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#I HOPE ITS ACCURATE I TRIED SO HARD
helixcraft · 1 year
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Colouring practice using @promniight's design! I saw this and kinda lost my mind in the best way possible. I've been meaning to wanting to do a doodle with one of the designs but guess who couldn't decide, everything changed when I saw Croissant I kinda lost my marbles! Knew who to draw now :]
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assassinsblade · 4 months
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Forget Me Not | 6
You are awaiting Azriel's return when chaos erupts.
WC: 6.4k
Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Violence, death, blood, angst, feelings, and dare I finally say some fluff?
a/n: There will be one more part!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7
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Azriel never responded to your letter. You hadn't exactly expected him to, but you still couldn't help the pang of disappointment that settled in your gut when day after day went by in silence.
You hoped he was getting the healing he needed, the healing he deserved. The thought of your friend hurting because of your words had you itching to write another letter to him, but you knew to give him the time and space to map his feelings out. It would be better to say all you needed to in person anyway.
That didn't stop your heart from wandering each day though. You thought of his scarred hands and gentle touches. The way he had always been soft with you, as if he were nervous you would think him anything other than kind-hearted. The way his fingers would brush against the fabric of your shirt when passing by, letting you know he was there, letting you feel his presence, take in his scent, as he moved in your space.
You thought about the small smile he would give you during conversations both before and after the incident. The way his head would tip forward to show he was listening, the way his eyes twinkled with amusement at your storytelling, the curve of his lips as others laughed.
You thought of the times he had carried you to your room when you had fallen asleep on the couch, his comforting arms, his protective instinct as he locked your windows and pulled the covers over your chest and toes.
You thought of the heat that would rise to his cheeks when people would compliment him. The way the pink would dust his cheeks like a guide for your lipstick, his eyes averted and the subject quickly changed despite the passion he put into each and every one of his interests and talents.
You thought about his commitment and duty and strength. The way he held the weight of the entire court on his shoulders but still managed to make others laugh. The way he would suffer in silence, do the dirty work, but pretend like it was nothing to alleviate others' stress.
You thought about every bit of him, from the glow that surrounded his black hair against the backdrop of the sun to the way the grass curled around his feet, and you loved him with a fierceness that ached.
And you tried -- you tried so fucking hard -- to distract yourself from these thoughts in the days after you sent your letter.
You began training with Cassian again. He hadn't said anything despite how obvious your swollen and bloodshot eyes were, how your shoulders hung low with fatigue, the way your clothes were wrinkled against your thinning form.
He had given you kind eyes, though, and a soft smile that told you he was there should you need it. He often snuck bars of food into your training bag or left an "extra" tea out on the counter for you. You had even noticed him peeking his head into Azriel's room a few times at night to check on you, remaining quiet to not disturb your feigned sleep.
It wasn't until a week after Azriel had left that Cassian mentioned him again. You were strapping the weapons you had brought with you to training back in place when you felt his eyes on you. It was nearing eleven at night, and your entire body felt like it was going to fall to the floor underneath you. Your skin was slick with sweat, muscles burning, and your eyes felt (accurately) like your sleep had been fitful as of late.
Cassian was quiet until you finally met his eye and raised a brow, prompting him to break his silence. He nodded to the dagger strapped against your thigh. "I'm surprised Azriel has been letting you use that."
You looked at the dagger you had been using nightly when training, taking in its intimidating design and shrugging. "He didn't protest much. It's not Truthteller."
The dagger, in truth, had been helpful. Cassian not only helped you learn how to handle such a weapon better, but he did so in a safe space that allowed you to overcome any memories from that night surfacing. There were times when your movements and grip on the handle felt so similar to that cold moment in the alley, you would nearly throw the dagger from your hand in haste. But you were making progress, and those moments when blood tainted your vision were becoming few and far between.
Cassian continued moving throughout the space, putting equipment away and packing away his things. You could tell he was feigning being nonchalant from the way his hands fumbled and his eyes strayed away from your own.
"Truthteller isn't the only weapon Azriel has a special attachment to."
Your brows furrowed with confusion and curiosity. As much as you had come to care for Azriel, there were parts of his past he had always kept private. You knew some details regarding his history and what had made him into the male he was, but he rarely spoke to you about them.
He liked to portray the side of himself he could control, the side the victims of the Night Court did not get to see: his gentleness, his care for his family, his ability to bring joy to others. Never the past that haunts him or his actions that remind him of the evil in the world.
"Are you going to explain?" You decided on asking, mind already beginning to spin with thoughts of Azriel.
You were too tired for his vague comments, and really you just wanted to shower and curl back up in Azriel's bed. It was beginning to lose some of his scent and take on your own. You didn't know how low you would have to feel before you started digging through his closet and drawers for clothes of his wear and curl up in instead.
"Just-" he sighed, placing his towel in his bag. "That weapon holds a lot of weight to him. It's the one that was used against his brothers." His voice trailed off at the end with the secret.
His brothers. The males who had set fire to his hands. The males who had laughed as he screamed, who had treated him like a test subject, like less than an animal. The males who had enjoyed watching a young boy cry in pain, terror, fear, and confusion.
You swallowed back the horrid thoughts pushing their way into your mind. Flames licking up his scars, his hazel eyes drowning in tears. "He didn't tell me its history."
Cassian shrugged, turning to face you and crossing his arms over his chest. He was studying you. What for, you didn't know. "He just normally doesn't let that dagger out of his room. I've only ever seen it on him a few times."
Did Azriel give the weapon to you for the same reason he yielded it against his brothers? You remembered the placement of the dagger in your palms in his bedroom, the way the sharp edge faced his unguarded torso, as if he was standing at your mercy and vengeance, positioning his heart to be a target for your own pain.
Maybe he had seen your lashing out as inevitable, and he knew the very dagger he had used against his own brothers could also help you deal an angry blow in return. Did he know the dagger was going to be aimed at him eventually? Did he offer it, expecting that result?
You remembered the blood that fell from his bicep earlier this week.
"I noticed you've been sleeping in his room."
Cassian's voice was gentler this time as he interrupted your distracted thoughts, as if he was afraid his acknowledgement of what he had seen would spook you, cause you to shut down or leave. Instead, you just shifted your weight on your feet, trying to not look too embarrassed.
"Yeah. I don't know, it just seems to help. With the nightmares and stuff, I mean."
He continued to study you, and you felt yourself getting slightly uncomfortable and annoyed. He was obviously thinking something but was unwilling to say it, and you didn't exactly appreciate his quiet observations as if you were some sort of mystery or experiment to document hypotheses on.
"Just say it," you rolled your eyes.
"No."
"No?"
He gave you a half-smile, slinging his bag over his broad shoulder and taking a step toward the exit. "Some things aren't my place."
"Since when do you stay out of people's business, Cassian?" You scoffed.
"Since my brother-" He started, but suddenly his steps halted, body going rigid with tension. His eyes scanned the space rapidly, and within a moment his bag was dropped back onto the ground by his feet, and he was taking a step back toward you, eyes still tracking your dark surroundings.
Your breath hitched in your throat at his serious behavior. "Cassian, what is it?"
But he didn't respond. Instead, one of his hands reached for the knife on his belt, his other arm splaying out in front of you to get you to move back with him.
You followed his movements, stepping in tandem with him until you found yourself in the middle of the training ring once again. A breeze flowed up your arms and caressed the skin of your cheeks, causing shivers to run down your body and your hair to stand on edge.
Footsteps sounded from your right, and you whirled around in fear, gripping the dagger Azriel had given you with a tightness that hurt your knuckles. A shadowed figure was approaching, followed by four others. But you didn't have time to think of an approach before more footsteps sounded to your back and more appeared, their wings fading into the black sky behind them.
They were coming from all directions, all Illyrian males, all Illyrian warriors. Swords and shields glinted in the moonlight. Teeth sharp as they sneered.
"Cassian-" you whispered harshly.
"Gentlemen," Cassian interrupted, voice tight warning. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
There were about fifty of them, all nearly double your size. Illyrian males were already prone to being larger, all over six feet in height with intimidating wingspans and muscles, and for once you didn't feel safe around the form you so often associated with Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. Your fingers trembled.
Cassian still told taller than all of them, the general a fierce presence surrounded by enemies. He looked determined, but he did not look scared.
One of the males stepped forward from the crowd.
"My son was one of the many who died in the war with Hybern. One of the many who died because of you. Because of your half-breed high lord and his past-time of playing house with bastards." He looked to his companions standing in the shadows. "You all come here and condemn our way of life, of training, of breeding, and then punish us on the battlefield. We're not fighting for you anymore. We're fighting for ourselves."
You felt like you were in a fever dream. You hadn't even been in Velaris for that long, had never been around during the war nor seen the aftermath of the choices made. But you knew of Cassian and Azriel's power in the Illyrian war camps. You knew how Rhys tried to ban wing clipping, how they all enforced treating the females equally and fair, how the males were discriminatory toward others and often rageful and violent.
You wanted no part of this.
"No one is forcing you to fight on the front line." Cassian responded, barely flinching at the man's short speech. He was completely and utterly still, gauging each movement around the two of you. He was a strategist, and you could sense the gears in his mind turning.
"Maybe we want to fight. Maybe we are here to demand our rights back. Our superiority."
Cassian's hands twitched, his siphons gleaming. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
His cold voice was nothing like the jovial male you had come to know. This was the Lord of Bloodshed ready to split the males in front of him in half, a warrior basking in the calm before blood would rain down around him.
"And why not?" The male laughed. "It is only you here. You and this pet. When we are done with you, we will go for that bastard shadowsinger. How do you think almighty Rhysand will feel about that? Both of his brothers put down like mutts? Think he will be willing to listen then?"
Rage swarmed in your veins, warming your skin until you felt your cheeks and ears turn red with heat. They would not touch you. They would not touch Cassian, and they sure as hell would not touch Azriel.
Cassian sighed, as if he were experiencing only a slight inconvenience. As if he had just been interrupted from a nap with a chore he couldn't put off any longer.
"Alright," is all he said, and then his strong arm was pushing you back and out of harms way, the harsh sound of weapons clashing ringing in your ears.
You spun quickly, trying to take in the chaotic space around you. Males were moving in all directions, and before you could think, you were throwing your dagger at the closest body you could find. The edge hacked into the center of his pale forehead, his body crumpling to the ground immediately.
Dodging another male grasping at you, you slid on your knees to collect your weapon, gathering up the fallen male's sword at the same time. It was heavy in your grip, but it was better than only having one weapon to arm yourself with.
"Come here, birdy." A voice cooed.
You vaguely registered red light flashing in the corner of your eye, the color flickering and absorbing in the sky. It lit up the armor of the Illyrians, and despite the pounding heart in your chest, despite not knowing if you would survive tonight, you found the sight beautiful.
You faced the male, his rotten teeth dirtying his smirk as he took you in. A few others joined him, forming a line in front of you. Raising the sword in your grasp, you held your chin up.
"Don't call me that."
They took their time observing you, as if you were a mouse in their game -- a treat they had hoped would be present at their meeting.
"Bad timing, girl. We don't have to hurt ya, though. Why don't you just come with us, yeah?"
The male to his left winked at you, and you felt your palms become damp with sweat. No, you would not be doing this again. You would not allow another male to put his hands on you again.
"I'd rather the Cauldron boil me alive."
And then you were swinging, the sword coming down with a mighty clang against the male's own. The resistance reverberated up your arm, through your bones, and you gritted your teeth at the pain. But you pushed forward, attempting to unbalance him with your steady stance.
The male to his right went in with a knife of his own, and you ducked out of the way, instead swinging low with your sword and slicing the legs of the male you had been up against. He cried out in anger and pain, and you couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face at the noise. You wanted him to choke on that pain, on those cries.
As he fell and gripped his calves, you quickly made work of his throat, slashing through the skin in a swift movement, barely even taking the time to think before you flung the dagger with your other hand into the male to your right, the tip latching into his neck.
The last male roared, pushing you off your balance until you tripped and had to steady yourself, your sword pointed toward the ground.
He swung with his own, point aimed toward your chest, and you hurried to block the action. You had no armor to defend yourself, just your brief training and your will to live.
The male kept swinging, his strength and weight being thrown into each movement, pushing you back farther and farther. Each block you threw up only dug your feet deeper into the ground, only destabilized you, only made your arms sting with fatigue.
You were panting, grunting, trying to hold your own.
And then the male was half exploding away from you. Red light and energy threw his body from yours, sending him spiraling to the ground feet away. His armor looked melted, and you could only allow yourself a brief moment of relief before you searched for Cassian.
He was still fighting the other males. Plenty of other males, as the majority went straight for their target rather than you. Red surrounded him, his sword sparkling, dark hair gracefully blowing with each jab. He didn't even look winded. There were twenty males surrounding him, and about the same amount scattered on the ground limp and bloodied.
His movements were clean and precise. As if he were made to do this, his body glided in a beautiful dance that left males to drop before him. If blood had not been coating your vision, it would almost seem as if they were dropping to their knees in reverence.
You shook yourself out of your stupor, hefting up the sword and your dagger and moving forward again into the action.
You were steps away from another Illyrian, his brown eyes locking on your own, when blue blinded your vision.
Like lightning rocking the ground underneath you, a beam of cobalt shot from the sky, sending the earth trembling under your feet. The noise roared in your ears as you tried to keep your footing, blinking away from the bright light.
Your veins hummed, your skin tingled.
Because coming out of that bright blue light, eyes glowing like a god, was Azriel.
His wings were flared, taking up as much space as three Illyrians as he marched toward them, his towering form enough to make you want to fall to your knees in worship.
Light shone on his face, cutting his sharp cheekbones with the blue of his siphons. He looked angelic, and beautiful, and like the savior you dreamed about.
Your chest pulled you toward him, but your movements were halted by cold tendrils snaking around your wrists, pulling you backward.
You almost shouted, but then you realized as a grunt sounded in your ear what was happening. Azriel's shadows were back. They were back by your side and they were helping you. You could have wept with joy feeling the silky bands kissing your skin.
They pulled you out of the way of one of the Illyrians, his punch missing your head as you dodged. You didn't even have time to plunge the dagger toward his eye before the shadows were swarming the male, flowing into his nostrils, ears, mouth and eyes, until blood was flowing out of them, jaw hanging open and body going limp.
You gasped in shock as the male fell to your feet, choking and suffocating on his own internal bodily matter.
Trying not to gag, you pulled your gaze up to Cassian and Azriel fighting back to back. Flashes of red and blue lit up the sky, and you went to move closer, but the shadows held you back. They swarmed your ankles, your calves, and held you in place. Some lingering shadows skimmed the rest of your body, searching the open skin for wounds.
When the last of the males fell, the shadows released you, and you stumbled at the sudden freedom.
Then you were rushing toward your friends, sword falling from your fingertips to lay with the dead bodies in your haste. Cassian and Azriel were talking, but Azriel's body was turned toward you as if he was paying attention to you both at once -- and you supposed he was, what with his shadows monitoring your every movement and breath.
But then he couldn't focus on Cassian, couldn't say anything else, because you wouldn't let him. You didn't care if he shoved you off of him, you didn't care if he took both of your shoulders in his scarred hands and threw you to the ground, not as you flung yourself into his torso, the wind knocked out of your lungs with the force.
He caught himself with one step back, his arms going to catch you against him despite his shock. His body was tense with surprise, but you didn't care, not as you grasped his leathers, not as you breathed in the smell of him, not as you basked in the fact that Azriel was back after you were scared he would never see or talk to you again.
Your breath was shaky as you listened to his heartbeat underneath your ear. His arms tightened around you, and you felt as seconds ticked by before gentle fingers tangled in your hair hesitantly.
Still, he did not say a word.
You would take this moment, savor it, knowing it could be your last chance at any kind of intimacy, at any kind of care and love with Azriel before everything came crashing down again, before reality and all you had both said and done disrupted what could have been.
You could hear Cassian’s footsteps fading in the distance, but the sound was muffled as you attempted to get closer to the shadowsinger, gripping him tighter, burying your face deeper into his hard strong chest.
He was so warm against you, and the contrast of that heat against the cool shadows weaving around you had you nearly gasping.
Tears were in your eyes before you could control your emotions, knowing how embarrassing this was. You had pushed him away for months, made him crawl for your forgiveness, but as soon as you were the one to make a mistake, you couldn’t handle it. You were just so glad he was home. So glad he was here in front of you so you could apologize, and feel whole again with him near. You hadn’t realized how empty you felt with him gone-
“Are you okay?” His rough voice cracked above you, barely audible above the wind.
You nodded against him, trying to compose your feelings before reluctantly releasing him and taking a step back. His fingers trailed after you as if by instinct, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to distract yourself from touching him once again.
“I’m okay,” you reiterated, hands tangling together in nerves. He looked you up and down, brows furrowed as if he didn’t quite believe you, as if he needed to give you a thorough inspection. “Are you?”
“Fine,” he quietly spoke. And you could tell that he was. He didn’t even look like he broke a sweat going up against the remaining Illyrians, which made your worry for him even more embarrassing.
“I didn’t…” you swallowed, sorting through your jumbled thoughts. “What are you doing back?”
His gaze was soft but guarded. Your heart thumped in your chest painfully at the contrast to how he looked at you just a week or two ago. You had hurt him enough for those walls to go back up, and you also couldn’t ignore the hurt you had felt (even if you were trying your hardest to forget it).
Instead of answering your question, Azriel said, “We should talk. After I check in with Rhys.”
“Right.” You nodded, rubbing your palms on your pants, the fabric clinging to your thighs. “That’s probably more important.”
Azriel just looked at you though before muttering, “Not more important.”
You hated the tension, the uncertainty, and if not for the adrenaline in your veins, you were sure you would have started crying again.
“I’ll come find you after.”
You nodded, and he gave you a short one in return, sending his shadows to stay with your form once again. They twirled around you, as if to make up for their master’s lack of visible excitement, and you tried to let them warm the anxiety overwhelming you.
And then he was winnowing you back to the House of Wind, only allowing the darkness to envelop him again once you were secure behind its wards.
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You waited for Azriel all night.
The clock ticking on your wall seemed to mock you, and you wondered if he was already in his room hiding from you, or if he had decided to not return to you to talk after all.
You wouldn’t blame him for changing his mind, but the thought still caused your heart to twist in your chest. You had so much to say, so much to just let out into the open, that if he ended up not wanting to talk, you thought it would probably end up weighing you down to your grave.
Sighing, you wrapped a blanket around your bare shoulders to shield your nightgown-clad form from the cold, stepping out onto one of the balconies at the House of Wind. You couldn’t go lay in Azriel’s room, and you weren’t going to be able to rest in your own. So, you sat along the edge of the balcony, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping the blanket tight as could be around you.
Shadows rested on your shoulders and by your hips, silently keeping watch around you. Their presence was calming as you looked over the night sky.
You remembered sitting in this exact spot months before, smiling to yourself as you compared your life in the Hewn City to where you had come here in Velaris. So much had changed then, and even more now.
You missed the ease of being around your friends and around Azriel. And it frustrated you, because you knew you would be happier with him around again, but you didn’t know what was right to do. What was correct?
Your heart ached for him even more now than it did months ago, as if a tether was pulling you to him, begging you to become one as it was always meant to be. And you knew that feeling of completion in your soul would finally come when you two could move forward again, but you didn’t even know what that meant, if it was possible, if he’d want that-
“You’re going to catch your death out here.”
Your head whipped around so quickly at his voice, you were surprised he didn’t laugh.
“Azriel,” you breathed.
“Why don’t we go inside?” He nodded to your bundled up form. He made no move to help you stand, instead keeping his hands shoved into his pockets, body held tight with tension.
You stood in a hurry, clutching the blanket to your shivering form before making your way over to his tall frame and past the open door.
He followed you quietly as you sat down on one of the couches, shutting the door behind you two. He didn’t immediately take a seat, instead watching as you got comfortable (as comfortable as you could be with all of the anxiety coursing through you), before walking around one of the chairs and lowering himself down into it. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward, scarred hands clasped together and holding his attention.
He seemed much more unaffected than you. But you both had been affected by what had happened to you for months, and you understood he was probably exhausted, probably done putting energy into this situation, into you.
“I have so much I need to say.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice came out so insecure.
He only looked at you expectantly — not cold nor mean, but open and listening, his hazel eyes nonjudgemental.
“I want to tell you everything,” you started. “From before that night to what happened and how I was feeling after. But please, Azriel, please know I will never forgive myself for the words I spoke to you last week. I am so sorry. So so sorry. I meant none if it.”
Your voice shook with your tears, and you immediately wiped them away before they became too obvious to the spy.
He was silent, and you felt that thing in your chest crack further.
“You are the most honorable and lovable person I have ever known. Any words indicating otherwise were spoken from a place of hurt and anger and are completely untrue. You give your safety up daily to protect others, you have done nothing but try to make life better for those that you can. You have a good heart and a kind soul, and you are a way better person than the world deserves — than I deserve.”
Azriel shook his head at your words. “You deserved more than what happened to you. Than what I did.”
“I think we both made mistakes.”
His silence unnerved you, and you found yourself scrambling. “I understand if you don’t forgive me, if you don’t want to be around me anymore. I can find another place to live in Velaris… or I can go back to the Hewn City-”
“Hewn City?”
“This is your home— has always been your home. I’ve only been here recently. I can go wherever you need me to.”
“I want you to stay here.”
Your eyes met his hazel ones, and you could see a crack in the walls he had built up, the panic and emotion seeping through.
“I don’t know what I’d do if you left.” The words came out like a confession, like he hadn’t actually intended you hear them.
“I don’t want to leave you,” you admitted. “I hate this.”
“I do, too.”
Your fingers gripped the blanket tighter around you, pulling it until it held you with makeshift protection.
“I had never been more afraid than I was that night,” you told him, not able to quite make eye contact while talking about this. “But it was worse because it was you who forgot me, who didn’t think of me.”
He flinched at your words, and you hurried to explain.
“I’ve been in love with you for so long, Azriel. I put expectations onto you that you didn’t even know were there. It was unfair of me to put myself above Elain, to demand your protection and your thoughts as if I was entitled to them.”
“You are entitled to them,” he said forcefully, pulling your eyes up to his own.
You shook your head, giving him a sad smile. “I know you care about me. You’re a loving person. But that doesn’t mean I can punish you for not loving me as much as I wish.”
“Stop, please.” He squeezed his eyes shut as if he was in physical pain.
You waited for him to collect himself, to sort through his thoughts and emotions. His jaw was clenched, his fingers trembling, and you found comfort in the evidence that you weren’t the only one feeling nervous and uncertain.
“I never want to hear you excuse what I did that night again. Do you understand?”
He took a deep breath at your silence before continuing. “You are not someone to be forgotten, to be left behind. I will do everything in my power to convince you of that until I am dust to this planet.”
Your eyes watered with his words, but you let him keep going, getting the words off his chest.
“And you are entitled to my protection and thoughts. You are entitled to every part of me. You are my mate, and I will thank the Cauldron every day for blessing me with you even if you do not return the sentiment nor want to act on it any longer.”
Mate.
He was your mate.
Holy gods.
You thought of the pull you always felt toward the shadowsinger, the comfort you felt in his arms, the soothing scent of his sheets and clothes. You thought of the way he always seemed to know what you needed, how you were hyperaware of his presence and touch, the feeling of incompletion when he was away.
“Azriel…”
“I’m not sure where we go from here. I know that I will beg for you, on my hands and knees, daily for the rest of my life. I know that I will do what I can to help you through any trauma I caused, to earn your trust back. I know that I have fallen in love with you in the past few months, even before that without realizing. But I also know that I have done you wrong, and that I cannot change the past nor the hurt you endured.”
Your lips trembled, and you tried your hardest to keep looking into his hazel eyes, but you could feel it. The bond, the pain centered in both your chest and his own. The love and care he felt traveling into you, lighting that hallow space up and filling it until you felt him.
“Will you forgive me for the terrible things I said?” You asked, matching his own vulnerability. “Will you allow me to convince you of your worth and heart?”
Something sparked in your chest at the words, and his hopeful brown green eyes met your own.
“You’re already forgiven.”
You could barely hold in a sob at his words, and then he was slowly moving toward you. He let you see each of his actions, as if he expected you to shove him away, to have him give you space like you had the last two months.
But as soon as his hands brushed back the hair from your face, cupping your jaw, you were lunging toward him. Your arms encircled his neck, gripping tight tight tight, bringing him as close to your body as you could. His hand cradled the back of your head to his neck, his own nose nuzzling into the side of you.
You could feel his tears wetting your skin, and you knew he could feel your own cries against him, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to think about any more pain right now. Not about what happened months ago, not about what you said last week, not about Azriel’s week-long absence or the Illyrian revolt. All you could think about were his hands holding you.
“I love you,” you spoke into his neck. “I’ve always loved you.”
His fingers gripped you tighter, to the point of near bruising. And then he pulled back.
His lips brushed against your forehead, the soft gesture bringing more tears to your eyes.
“When I felt that fear go across the bond tonight, even through the walls I had put up, I thought I would be coming home to Cassian carrying you into this room bloody again. I thought I would be too late, again.”
But he had come for you. Even after everything you had thrown at him, he had been willing to put himself on the line for you and was still ready for your rejection.
You shook your head at him, your thumb brushing across his cheekbone. “I held my own pretty well actually.”
His eyes gleamed through the haunted look he had, a light of praise shining through, and then they were dropping to look at your lips.
Your skin warmed at the action, your mouth parting instinctually. His thumb brushed your bottom lip in admiration before his eyes moved back up to your own.
“We still have a lot to discuss.” His voice was quiet but rough, and you nearly clenched your thighs together at the sound.
He must have felt your body heat rising, the way you were tempted to squirm into his lap, to lean forward just a bit more, because his pupils dilated and his grip on you tightened ever so slightly.
“We have all the time now, right?” You asked hesitantly, his lips drawing you in as if you were in a trance. “And it’s late. It might be better to talk more once we get some rest.”
“Rest.” He repeated, his tongue testing out the word.
“I’ve been sleeping in your room,” you admitted, flushing with embarrassment. “Maybe we can both stay there tonight.”
“I’ll do anything you want.”
And you could hear the truth in the words, the desperation and vulnerability. If you told him to drop to his knees in front of you, he would do it. He would kiss the ground you walked on and look at you reverently while doing so.
So you led him to stand with you, dropping the blanket from your shoulders to fall back onto the couch, and grasped his hand with your own.
His eyes took in the light fabric hugging your body, and you watched them darken, his lashes fluttering and tongue wetting his lips.
“I want you,” you said.
The words were not necessarily ones of lust, but they were fueled in desire, in love and fire that had been suffocated for months. Letting them fall from your lips felt as cathartic as screaming.
“You have me,” Azriel said in return, his hand cupping your lower back and pulling you against him.
His body lined up with your own, but it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to feel inside of him, you wanted to pull on that bond until it glowed a blinding gold across your vision. You wanted to feel his skin everywhere, curl your fingers into his hair, and tell him everything you had ever thought about him.
You have me too, you wanted to tell him. So take me.
And as his feet slowly started moving you both back toward his room, your heart skipped in your chest. His answering smile at the feeling had heat rising to your cheeks and an embarrassed giggle erupting.
Take me, you thought again. Make me yours.
He scooped you up into his arms and your mind emptied. No more pain, no more confusion, just you and Azriel and the thrum of love in your chest.
You have me. I’m yours.
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ro-is-struggling · 1 month
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Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
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Requested by anon
Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 
Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff
English is not my first language
Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)
Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!
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The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.
You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.
"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 
Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 
"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."
"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."
"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."
"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."
"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."
"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."
Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 
Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.
"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 
You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.
"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 
But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.
"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."
Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.
“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.
"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."
"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 
"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."
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Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.
For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.
"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 
The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.
However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 
He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.
His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.
They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.
Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 
You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 
Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.
Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.
Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.
The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.
"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.
But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.
It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.
In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.
A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.
"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.
"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.
"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.
"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 
He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.
You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.
“Princess?” 
His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.
"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 
He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 
"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 
You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 
When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.
"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.
"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."
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A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 
Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 
"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 
"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."
"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."
"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"
"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.
"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."
"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."
"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"
"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."
Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."
"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 
After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.
The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 
Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 
Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.
"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."
You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.
"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 
"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.
"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."
The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 
Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.
"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."
It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.
Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.
"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."
"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 
Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 
"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.
Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.
When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.
The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.
"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."
Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.
Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 
Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 
He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.
Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.
"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 
"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."
You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.
"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.
"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.
You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.
“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.
"Or maybe you're being naively nice."
Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.
You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.
They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.
"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."
Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.
The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 
That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.
"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 
"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.
"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.
"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."
There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 
"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."
Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 
The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 
Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 
You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 
You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.
"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."
You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.
Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.
The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 
"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.
"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."
It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 
"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."
Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.
"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."
"Yes, Geralt, I will."
"Good."
Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.
He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.
"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 
"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.
"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."
"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.
"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."
Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 
"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 
It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 
Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 
"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.
"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."
Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.
It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 
And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.
"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.
The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 
"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 
Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 
After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.
Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.
"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 
You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.
"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."
"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.
"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."
"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.
"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 
His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.
"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."
It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.
"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 
Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.
"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.
"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"
His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 
"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."
His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.
Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 
You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.
"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.
"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.
Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 
You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.
"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.
"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 
Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 
You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."
Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.
Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.
"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.
You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 
"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.
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It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.
You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.
"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"
Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."
You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."
"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."
You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.
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itsphoenix0724 · 8 months
Text
Promises (Rhysand x Reader)
Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.
Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain
Word Count: 1.7k
Part 2
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3
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You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.
It’s been a long week. 
It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 
You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 
“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 
“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 
“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 
You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 
“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.
“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 
“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 
“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 
“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 
“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 
“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 
“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 
“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 
“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 
“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 
“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 
It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 
“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 
“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 
“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 
“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 
“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 
“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 
“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 
“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”
“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 
“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 
“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 
What the fuck had he done?
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springtyme · 2 months
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Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.
So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.
I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!
Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡
Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!
Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕
word count: 2.0k
a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.
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Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move
You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”
Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.
You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”
You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.
Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”
“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.
Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.
“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.
“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.
He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.
As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.
Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.
It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.
“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.
Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.
“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”
Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.
“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.
Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”
“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.
Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.
“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.
You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.
Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.
“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.
You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”
“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.
You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.
You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.
Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.
And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.
As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move
“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.
Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.
“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.
“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”
You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.
As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.
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sawbiter · 3 months
Text
a field of geranium - yuuji itadori
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summary ! you and itadori have been together since middle school. when he randomly breaks up with you and disappears from school, you're left heartbroken and completely alone.
warnings / tags ! angst to fluff , exes to lovers , non-sorcerer reader, hopeful ending! implied fem reader, written with a poc reader in mind (skin tone and race unspecified!), past bullying, yuuji is lowkey dumb, reader is stated to be intelligent, lonely reader .. lots of angst. probably not very canon accurate to how curses work but shush.. reader curses a lot lol.
a/n ! hope you guys like this! i loveee yuuji sm .. this probably isnt good i haven't written in a while ;;
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you remember a time when it felt like yuuji would always be around.
when he would kiss your forehead before classes and during lunch, hold your hand as he walked you to class and write you childish love notes during maths.
you never expected him to break up with you, let alone over text. you'd planned on confronting him at school after he had repeatedly dodged your frantic calls, but when you entered the school, yuuji didn't go there anymore.
it stung. yuuji had been your best friend since middle school, defending you from the bullies who'd pick on you for various things that'd later become insecurities of yours. (sometimes you wonder if those things are why yuuji left.)
going back to eating alone in the single stall bathrooms and having nobody to talk to during passing periods was a hard transition. your parents weren't any help either, telling you that high school relationships never lasted.
(you can't bring yourself to throw away the promise ring he gave you.)
you see him out one day, with a pretty brunette girl, carrying shopping bags for her. you go up to him; he's clearly moved on. (you can understand why. she's gorgeous.) he doesn't seem to notice you.
--
you're sitting alone the class garden for your botanicals class. you remember a time this was your favourite class (it was one with yuuji; go figure.)
now it's filled with bittersweet memories and the grief over someone you know isn't dead.
you're calm as a boy you've never seen before approaches you. your hands are gloved and your hair is a bit messy as you look up at him.
“be careful around here, please. it's class policy not to walk on the soil.” you scold a bit, his boots having crushed one of the plants.
he looks down at you, his face a bit stoic, “sorry.”
“it's alright- did you need something?” you smile at him politely.
he snaps his fingers, frowns a bit, then says “nope,” and walks off.
you'd never seen him before. he didn't even have the right uniform on.
--
“i cannot believe you just made me do that.” megumi rolls his eyes.
yuuji frowns a bit, “i'm sorry but- i can't go up to her.” megumi rolls his eyes as nobara fumes a bit.
“you broke up with her over text. no wonder no girls like you.” she snarks and yuuji just glares at her.
“i had just eaten sukuna's finger! i thought i was gonna die soon anyways!” he argues back,
“well then why haven't you tried to talk to her again? not that she should take you back- i pity the fact that she dated you at all.” nobara speaks as they walk away from the school.
“she probably has new friends anyways, plus she could get hurt, she's not a sorcerer.” yuuji says, his face looking almost like a kicked puppy.
nobara looks at him and raises an eyebrow, “didn't you say you were her only friend? that curse probably attached to her cause she's lonely.” she pops her gum after saying the last sentence.
“even more proof that me being around her is dangerous! plus- what if sukuna gets out around her while i sleep or something?!” he sighs, looking back and sneaking a peak at you in the botanical garden, “she's better off.”
megumi looks at him a bit, “i'm not surprised. you are the self sacrificing type after all.”
“i just think its rude to break up over text with no explanation, you guys were together for so long too.” nobara shrugs a bit.
“if i had spoken to her any more than that, i think i would've tried to stay.“ yuuji frowns.
--
two weeks after the boy approached you in class, your botany teacher dies in a freak accident, or at least that's what the police said. you aren't too sure.
ms. woods was a smart woman. you knew from the lunches you'd spend in her classroom to avoid bullies that she seriously loved plants.
so dying by ingesting a poisonous plant? out of character and frankly, insulting. you know that can't be the whole story.
that boy had something to do with it; it has to be. you look through your yearbooks after he had left; no sight of him. you go through all of your classes, all grades, you ask around. nothing. he didn't go to your school but he walked up to you during botany class and then two weeks later your teacher dies.
it can't be a coincidence. you go nearly crazy over it. you stay up multiple nights. you cry.
you remember when ms. woods called you smart, when she understood your grief over itadori and let you extend your onion cell project. you cry; something horrible happened to her, you just know it.
so, the night you stay in the school way too late studying poisonous plants in her room, you have a good excuse for why you see a huge monster in the hallway.
at first, you think you're seeing things from the sleep deprivation. you blink, rub your eyes and squint. it's still there.
“holy shit!” you jump out of your seat, going for the door to the garden before realizing they're locked, only able to be unlocked via a key- which you don't have.
the monster, a disgusting bipedal amalgamation of red roses, vegetables, cacti and other odd plants was slowly walking towards you.
“what the fuck.. oh my god- what the fuck?!” you shout, your hands shaking as you go to grab the nearest object to defend yourself as you press your body against the door. you grab a glass flask and hold it out as if it's at all a threat to the 8 foot creature in front of you.
the creature groans and you begin to tear up. this is it- you're about to die the same way ms. woods must have. nobody is going to mourn you besides your parents. you're going to die with people thinking you injested a poisonous fucking plant. you shut your eyes tight in preparation as it approaches.
it never does. you hear the creature use ms. woods' voice to cry out as someone attacks it. you peek to look.
its yuuji. and the girl from the mall. and the boy you thought killed ms. woods.
you gasp as they use all sorts of stuff against the thing and- are those bunnies?
“what.” is all you can gasp out as the brunette and the black haired boy run off, chasing the monster.
yuuji looks at you with his puppy dog eyes and you resist the urge to slap his stupid kissable face.
“yuuji, what the hell is going on.” you say, but it comes out as more of a statement than a question.
“i.. um..” he looks back at the two he came with who are now chasing the monster down the science hall, “that's the curse ms. woods left behind.. we're getting rid of it.”
“a curse? and- and you're fighting it?” you ask, puzzled.
“i promise i can explain but,” he pulls you into a tight, squeezing hug, “I was so worried. A special grade curse against you- I was terrified that we'd be too late. We didn't notice in time to get it before it tried to hurt you.”
“did it kill ms. woods?” you ask.
he shakes his head, “no- the grief from her death created that.” you gasp.
“I made that?” tears spill as the adrenaline settles.
“no!” yuuji pulls away a bit, looking at you put still holding onto you, “no. you didn't- it's not your fault. oh my god, it's not your fault- i love you please don't blame yourself!” he hurries to reassure you.
you sob into the crook of his neck, “yuuji- you.. why did you go? i was so lonely. it's been so hard.”
he can feel his heart break as he squeezes you once more in his embrace, “i'm sorry baby- i'm sorry.” yuuji soothes you, rubbing circles into your back, “i didn't want you to get hurt but- it happened anyways.”
after several minutes of silent comfort, you pull away, wiping your tears before giggling.
“where'd you get those face tattoos?” you sniffle and laugh.
yuuji laughs too.
“it's a long story.“
you smile, “tell me about it. i wanna hear.”
460 notes · View notes
rottenpumpkin13 · 28 days
Note
Sephiroth, Genesis, Angeal, and Zack take Wired’s Most Searched for Questions interview
How does it go?
Sephiroth
Is Sephiroth evil?
Sephiroth: Not yet.
Is Sephiroth gay?
*Sephiroth stares blankly at the camera with his mouth parted open*
Is Sephiroth left-handed?
Sephiroth: I'm ambidextrous, though I prefer using my left hand to write, eat and maneuver a sword.
Is Sephiroth part cat?
Sephiroth: Perhaps I would be happier if I were.
Why is Sephiroth shirtless?
Sephiroth: An excellent question.
Why is Sephiroth so attractive?
Sephiroth: I seem to have inherited my looks from my mother. She was very beautiful.
Where are Sephiroth's parents?
Sephiroth: Ah. I've tried looking this question up. It's ineffective and provides no answers.
Why does Sephiroth hate Genesis?
Sephiroth: That's absurd. I like Genesis very much. He's my best friend. He's a special person to me. If I were asked who my vest friend is, I would have to say Genesis.
Who is Sephiroth's best friend?
Sephiroth: Angeal! He's very dear to me. We have a good relationship and there is no one in the world who I like more than him.
Why does Sephiroth like pasta?
Sephiroth: I feel complete and whole when I eat it. I assume that's what being loved feels like.
Why is Sephiroth's hair long?
Sephiroth: Because it's not short.
Genesis
How old is Genesis?
Genesis: How dare you insinuate that I'm old.
Is Genesis gay?
Genesis: Hm. About 50%, sometimes it's 75%. It depends on the day and my mood.
Is Genesis shorter than Sephiroth?
Genesis, through gritted teeth. I am.
Why does Genesis like red?
Genesis: It's the most vibrant, eye-catching, attractive color of the rainbow. Like me.
Why does Genesis dye his hair red?
Genesis: Lies and falsehoods.
Why is Genesis obsessed with Loveless?
Genesis: And I'm expected to answer with one sentence? I need an hour at least to accurately describe how much it means to me.
Why is Genesis called Genesis?
Genesis: I'm sure Dr. Hollander was trying to be poetic.
Why is Genesis annoying?
Genesis: WHAT?
Why is Genesis shorter than Sephiroth?
Genesis: WHY DO YOU MEAN "WHY?"
Why does Genesis say his hair is red when it's brown?
Genesis: THAT'S IT. I'M LEAVING. SCREW THIS.
Angeal
Is Angeal related to Zack?
Angeal: Not blood related, but he's like my little brother. Don't tell him I said that though. He'll cry and hug me and then I'll be covered in Zack snot.
Is Angeal dating Sephiroth and Genesis?
Angeal: Simultaneously?? Dating one would be a nightmare on its own.
Why is Angeal so attractive?
*Angeal stares up at the camera blankly, blushing profusely*
Is Angeal single?
Angeal: Uhh...yeah.
Does Angeal have a girlfriend?
Angeal: No, I don't.
Why is Angeal single?
Angeal: Who's writing these? My mom??
Is Angeal dead?
Angeal: Only on the inside.
Is Angeal stronger than Sephiroth?
Angeal: I'm not sure. I can sit on him and he starts flailing and struggling though. That's very funny.
Is Angeal older than Sephiroth and Genesis?
Angeal: Believe it or not, I'm the middle child.
Does Angeal kill plants?
Angeal, tearing up: I—...No? Once...It was a sunflower. There's barely any sun in Midgard.... I learned that the hard way.
Zack
Is Zack alive?
Zack: Yeah I am! *finger guns*
Is Zack stronger than Sephiroth?
Zack: Not yet.
Why is Zack popular?
Zack: Uhhh.... because I'm a nice guy? At least I hope I am! I like to make friends, so maybe that's why.
Why is Zack called a puppy?
Zack: Because Angeal thought he was funny when he compared me to a puppy, so now the nickname stuck. I don't mind though! Although it'd be cool if I had a badass nickname like wolf. Or snake!
Why does Zack do squats?
Zack: Because it's fun! Plus, it's a great exercise. It strengthens your core and leg muscles. .....I also have a lot of energy and don't like being still for too long. It stresses me out.
Why is Zack so adorable?
Zack: Aww! Am I? That's just my natural charm.
Does Zack have ADHD?
Zack: The TV in my room is HD, yeah.
173 notes · View notes
woniverse-writes · 8 months
Text
"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 2)"
Bada Lee x Fem!Reader
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part 1.5 ⟵ part 2 ⟶ part 3
series masterlist
summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.
word count: 12.8k (i'm so sorry)
warnings: swearing, suggestive at times, both Bada and reader are highkey obsessed with each other, Redlic, reader is described as younger and small a lot, Bada is kinda confusing with her feelings, sometimes isn't very accurate to swf's actual plot, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!
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After heading back to their rooms, each team celebrates finishing the first mission. some are more excited than others, based on their ranking. Like Jam Republic for example, whose first thought is to shake some ass for their victory. Kirsten and y/n keep posing and dancing toward the camera, blowing kissing, and having fun again.
“I can’t believe we just did that” Audrey sighs out, flopping back on the couch. Y/n piles on top of her, causing the slightly older girl to dramatically huff out a breath as to tease Y/n for plopping on her. The younger adjusts quickly and stares at her friend with a glare that holds no real malice, but is simply another teasing moment between the two. Audrey laughs and squeezes Y/n’s face.
“Oh, angry bunny!” she shakes the girl's head from side to side, still holding her face. The younger whines out loudly in protest, quickly pulling herself away and running to the other side of the room. The other members laugh in admiration of their youngest members.
“I hate it when you do that!” Y/n continues to whine but she also laughs along with her crew.
“Oh, but if Bada did it it’d be fine, right?” Ling provokes, and all heads whip in her direction. She has a knowing smirk and all the members burst out laughing with wide eyes as their youngest stands there shocked beyond words.
“That- that’s not- that is absolutely NOT true.” Y/n tries to suppress her nervous smile, but her bright red face and inability to cohesively string a sentence along doesn’t help her case.
“Right… yeah okay we believe you…” Emma crosses her arms and relaxes, letting out the last of her chuckles. Y/n throws her hands up and nods about to move on before it all goes downhill again.
“Puppy” Emma finished off her previous statement, sending her teammates into an even more intense frenzy of screams and chaos.
“ENOUGH” y/n’s screaming and covering her face in embarrassment, falling to the floor and curling up in a ball. They’re all laughing so hard their faces are red, and some even have tears streaming down their faces. Kirsten is trying really hard to be a responsible leader and get them to pull themselves together, but every time she looks over and meets y/n’s panicked puppy eyes she can’t help but start laughing again.
“Okay, okay, we need to take a lap and pull ourselves together” Kirsten manages to get out as everyone has calmed down for the most part. Shortly after, an announcement appears on the screen and the host is back, beginning to explain the next mission.
After it’s explained how the competition is going to work, and each team has picked its members, the lineups are revealed. The rookie class is revealed first and every team just about loses their minds when they see y/n is put in rookie.
“Ugh, I knew she was gonna be here, but I was just really hoping somehow she wouldn’t” Redy whines into her hands, receiving a comforting shoulder pat from Harimu. When Bebe sees the lineup, they’re just as worked up seeing y/n as a rookie.
"How is this even fair???" Tatter whines in despair, throwing her head back and running her hands down her face.
"Oh girl… You better get to work NOW" Lusher adds in, leaning back in her seat, side-eying the blonde.
"Maybe she's not good at choreographing…" Bada tries to ease Tatters’s mind, but as everyone  turns to look at her, they can all tell even Bada doesn't believe her own words by the way she sinks into her seat
"You can't be serious right now." Tatter scoffs, covering her face and groaning.
"Yeah I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to say- I can't think of a single bad thing to say about that girl." 
"Yeah, we know" Bada's mouth drops open slightly at the jab from Cheche, who has a slight smirk on her face. To be completely honest, Bada didn’t know what to expect. It made the most sense to put y/n in the rookie class, as she’s the youngest in her crew and has danced less years than some of the others. BUT- she also has a ton of experience in different settings and styles, making her a versatile performer. Knowing her background, Bada can’t help but worry for her teammate as well as the others who have to go up against her.
The rest of the lineups are revealed and everyone gets working on choreography. Y/n is really excited yet focused as she works on her routine. The vibe of the song suits her style well and she feels confident that her choreography will at least be one of the top choices. She brings attention to every beat by articulating her movements and adjusting the strength of each one in accordance with the strength of the beat. The girl feels good about it, feeling her interpretation was executed well, but she wants to express the lyrics directly more. Having some basic knowledge of the Korean language was definitely helpful in times like this. 
When it’s time to present the choreographies, y/n is one of the last to show hers, and everyone is blown away. Most of them weren’t expecting her to directly interpret the lyrics as well as incorporate the beats. Her combination of straightforward articulation and usage of lyricism, on top of her naturally flawless musicality really drew everyone in and caused her to stand out. When it came time to decide the choreography that everyone wanted to do, almost everyone thought y/n’s was the best… but that meant nothing in this competition. 
"Y/n, I thought your choreography was amazing, and I'd love to dance it…" Redy starts, but a timid smile appears on her face. Y/n begins to smile gratefully before hearing the rest of Redy’s statement.
"After the competition… I think you'd be uneatable and no one else would stand a chance if we did this choreography. I'm sorry." She nods her head in apology, and y/n nods hers in understanding.
The time comes for them to all make their final decisions and Rena is the only one to vote for y/n, who happens to be the only one to vote for Rena as well. After Capri’s choreography was chosen, they all quickly conversed about when they would be back to start learning it, then went their separate ways. Along the way, y/n was stopped by Rena.
“They must be really scared of you” the Tsuba Kill member declares with a joking lilt in her voice as she walks up to match pace with the younger girl/ Y/n turns her head to look and Rena before grinning a little.
“I could say the same about you. We both got dropped for the same reason.” Y/n replies disappointed but not surprised. Rena ‘tsks’ and tilts her head, laughing off her annoyance.
“Ehhh, what can you do?” she shrugs before continuing, “We’ll just have to work even harder to prove why we’re the only ones suited for the main dancer position, right?” the older girl challenges raising an eyebrow at y/n. The younger girl raises her eyebrows in response, then sticks her hand out to Rena.
“I think we’re gonna make a good team.” She smiles and jokes slightly. Rena giggles and shakes her hand before they go to their individual rooms.
Yeah so Tatter comes back from the meeting and everyone can immediately sense her stress, so she explains how everything went down.
"I really loved y/n's choreography, but I knew she'd look best doing it, so I couldn't bring myself to vote for her" Tatter sits back and sighs, running her hands down her face. All of Bebe nods and hums in understanding. Not even Bada tries to counter the fact that y/n would look best doing her choreo, because it’s true, and she couldn’t bring herself to lie about that. 
“It’s okay, you made the right decision. It’s better for you to have chosen something you were confident in learning and executing, rather than something you wouldn't have been able to achieve in the short period of time we have.” the leader calmly reassures her member and pats her head, smoothing out her hair.
When y/n returns to Jam Republic’s hideout, she’s not as visibly as upset as she was before talking with Rena. 
“How’d it go??” Kirsten asked with wide eyes, seated and ready to listen. Latrice tuned in but continued to work on her own choreography. Y/n sighed and closed her eyes for a second.
“I did really well” she started with her eyes still closed. Kirsten straightens her stature and throws her hands up in excitement.
“That’s great!! And you must've done REALLY well for you to be able to say that yourself-” she praises her youngest dancer, excited to see her recognizing her own talent, but then Kirsten takes notice of the lack of excitement on the other end. Her face drops slightly and she lets out a sigh
“But…” Kirsten urges, and y/n takes a deep breath
“But they all thought I did too well… they all loved my choreo and wanted to learn it, but not for the competition. None of them want to compete because they think I’ll look the best doing it, and no one else will stand a chance.” she explains and looks even more disappointed than before. Kirsten clicks her tongue and stands to give her a hug. Latreice stops working on her piece and also comes to embrace the girl.
“That’s such a stupid reason not to vote for your choreography. They should be picking based on which one is the best, and if they recognized yours as the best but still didn’t pick it, it’s because they’re intimidated…” Kirsten begins to explain, tucking a piece of hair behind y/n's ear, and then petting her hair affectionately.
“Exactly, so now you just need to go out there and show them exactly why they should still be intimidated. Because no matter who’s choreography gets chosen, you’re gonna eat it up.” Latrice finishes, gently rubbing the younger girl's back. Y/n exhales and nods.
The next day of practice goes well and y/n feels confident with Capri’s choreography. It was easy, but she knew how to accentuate and execute each move to suit her style best. When they all finish learning their respective dances, the teams meet back the next day to battle for the main dancer position. They have a few minutes before they actually start shooting, so most dancers are getting some last-minute practice in or discussing with their team. Both Jam Republic and Bebe are working non-stop to perfect the pieces they’re about to compete. When y/n pauses to grab water, Bada sees this as an opportunity to quickly catch up, and maybe even an opportunity to psych her out a little in favor of Tatter. Did Bada feel bad thinking this way? Of course she did, but she held no ill intent, she just knew y/n would be amazing no matter what, so maybe just a little bit more pressure and it’d cause her nerves to hinder her a bit. Because at the end of the day, this was still a competition, and Bada was dedicated to winning.
The Bebe leader sauntered over to a focused y/n with a cool expression. The younger girl stood with her hands on her hips, head back and eyes closed as she caught her breath. Bada didn’t want to startle her necessarily, but we all know how she loves to tease. The older girl tugged on y/n’s beanie, pulling it down over her eyes, causing her to yelp in surprise and stand up straight, quickly pulling the hat off her own head. Her wide eyes meet Bada’s, who’s busy giggling at her shocked expression- but when she processes everything, her hands are back on her hips and she tilts her head with what’s supposed to be a stern expression.
“Hey.” is all y/n says and it has Bada dying laughing. Both of their respective teams are now subtly watching the interaction. 
“You should probably put your hate back on” Bada raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms as she recommends the younger girl. Y/n fakes pouts and crosses her arms as well.
“And why should I? Hm?” she questions raising her own eyebrows. Bad pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue and grins, pleasantly surprised at y/n’s lack of obvious nerves. She notices the girl’s slight blush, but that’s her only present giveaway.
“Because your hair is a mess” she states calmly but still teasing, and ruffles the short girl’s hair, messing it up even more. Y/n whines and moves her head back so it’s out of Bada’s reach. She pouts and tries to fix her hair by running her fingers through it.
“You’re so mean to me!” she pouts trying not to smile or laugh, the blush on her face becoming much more intense as Bada continues to laugh at her. y/n finally gives up on trying to fix her hair and turns to fully face Bada again.
“Fix it.” she demands, looking up at Bada, still pouting. It’s the older girl’s turn to be shocked, as her eyes widen immensely and her face goes red in an instant.
“Eh?” she tilts her head and giggles, only slightly confused. 
“You made my hair a mess, so you fix it.” The small dancer just continues to talk with a pout, still trying not to smile, waiting for Bada to do something. The older dancer hesitates slightly before sighing and pretending to be annoyed at the demands, before starting to run her fingers through y/n’s hair. The second Bada’s hand makes contact with y/n’s head, the pout from the younger of the two immediately dissipates into a gentle smile. She’s staring up into Bada’s eyes, who happens to be avoiding eye contact, opting to focus on smoothing out y/n’s hair. 
“There, you should be good.” Bada nods, still not meeting y/n’s eyes, causing a small pout to return to the younger’s face. She just takes the beanie that y/n is still holding and positions it neatly on her head, tucking her hair so it sits comfortably but still looks nice. Meanwhile, anyone who happens to look over right now would how lovestruck y/n is by the older dancer. Her eyes glitter and she’s trying so hard to suppress the biggest smile ever that she has to bite her lip- which in turn causes Bada to have to focus even harder on anything besides the girl in front of her. When she finally does glance down to meet y/n’s eyes, Bada’s breath catches in her throat, not expecting the look she was getting from the younger girl. 
“Alright, get out of here. Go back to practicing.” Bada turns y/ns by her shoulders and shoves her slightly back in the direction of her team. Y/n just laughs, feeling so at peace with Bada, not realizing the effect she has on her.
“You’re the one who came over here to bother me!” the younger of the two exclaims, still laughing and watching Bada retreat backward, still keeping an eye on her. The older waves a hand dismissively and shakes her head.
“No wayyyyy, that’s not what happened.” She elongates and smiles charmingly, still trying to tease and get a rise out of y/n. 
“Yeah?” y/n raises an eyebrow and Bada can’t help but think how attractive she looks when she’s confident. She’s only ever been shy around her up until a few minutes ago, and Bada can’t tell which she likes more yet. She shakes her head at the younger girl and continues back to her team’s area with a smile and blush painting her face. Bada was expecting to get y/n worked up before she had to go on in hopes of getting her nervous enough to slightly underperform, but she’s pretty sure that totally backfired, because now Bada herself is the one feeling flustered, and Y/n seems more confident than she did before. Once reaching her team, Bada doesn’t even go back to practicing right away, she just sits down and takes a large drink of water.
Y/n puts her earbuds back in and goes back to practicing with agrin on her face after watching Bada sit down.
“So she’s not even gonna debrief with us what just happened?” Emma questions from her seat near Latrice and Kirsten. Ling, the biggest y/n-targeter, glances at the girl again to see her marking the routine but with full facials and can tell her adrenaline is pumping even more now. She turns back to Emma and chuckles
“She’s on a different level right now- I don’t think we can disturb her even if we tried” Ling just laughed and stretched her arms above her head.
“It’s like Bada’s attention gives her energy” Audrey notes smiling at how focused her friend is on executing the routine diligently 
“Bada could probably spit in her face and tell her she’s the worst dancer she’s ever seen and y/n would just be like “I have to be better for her”.” Emma mocks in a dainty voice causing the others to laugh. 
“Oh leave her alone, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush.” Kirsten, ever the motherly type, gently comments to the rest of the team. She herself glances at y/n to see her taking another short sip of her water, eyes still sparkling, but also fiery with determination.
As the time arrives for the rookie class to compete for the main dancer title, all of the teams are hyping up their rookie. y/n is being shaken around by her members in an attempt to hype her up, which is very effective until she steals a glance in Bada’s direction to see her pressing her forehead to Tatter’s. 
"haha that was cute- I'm killing myself" Y/n fake laughs and the look in her eyes says “I’m fucking dying inside”. Her teammates panic for a second and whip around back to face her direction, then follow her line of sight. Emma tries to cover up her laugh with a cough.
"Don't worry y/n, I gotchu-" Audrey jokes around, aggressively grabbing y/n by the face and planting a fat kiss on her cheeks, making sure to cause an annoyingly loud 'smooch' sound. y/n yelps in surprise but then laughs and shoves her away, not even bothering to wipe away the lipstick stain on her cheek
Bada doesn't see the interaction but notices the lipstick print on y/n's cheek when she steps into the center, and suddenly feels bitterly confused. Now she can't even focus on the competition in front of her because she's so stuck on trying to figure out which Jam member's lipstick matches the one of y/n's cheek. After she realizes how obsessive she's being, Bada tries to solely focus on watching everyone perform
"Let's go, Tatter!" she's screaming and cheering for her teammate, but her eyes are mostly focused on the girl next to her. y/n dances the choreography as if it's her own, showing her truest self as a performer. Bada feels like it’s truly amazing watching her dance because it’s almost like the music lives inside y/n with the way she hits every beat and accent flawlessly and effortlessly. Every move she makes looks natural- like this is too easy for her. 
It comes down to the final four being her, Capri, Tatter, and Rena. They rematch and Bada is just happy Tatter made it that far- of course, she hopes the blonde is able to secure the main dancer title, but she’s pretty positive y/n’s had it secured since she learned the choreography. Watching the rematch only confirms Bada’s thoughts, y/n somehow executing the piece even more excellently than the first time. She cheers, albeit slightly resigned, already knowing the outcome. 
The judges converse for quite some time and then finally face the dancers.
“We’ve chosen this member as the main dancer based on the quality of their movement and their ability to flawlessly interpret the song’s vibe” Monika prefaces the reveal with their reasoning.
“Main dancer for the rookie class is…” Mike Song starts back up
“Jam Republic’s Y/n.” Her tense figure relaxes as she sighs and the rest of her crew comes running up to surround her in a hug. She’s grinning and giggling slightly as the mic is passed over for her to say a few words about getting the position. She can barely even bring the mic up to speak into it, as her members are still hugging her tightly.
“This really is an amazing opportunity, and I’m extremely grateful. I’ll continue to improve the performance and show everyone an even better version. Thank you.” she bows politely (or attempts to, still secured in place with the loving arms of her members). The other teams applaud her again and Jam Republic walks back to their seats, y/n is in the back of the bundle. As they walk past Bebe, Bada confidently shouts out
“Y/n-ie congratulations, you were amazing!” and the small girl whips around, confused puppy dog eyes quickly scanning and finding Bada in the audience near her. She smiles the brightest smile ever seen and her breathing quickens a little bit.
“Thank you, so much” she replies a bit breathlessly, bowing and then not even trying to suppress her girlish giggles when she turns away from the older girl. 
“Wow… she even got a recognized by Bada… y/n really is THAT good, huh…” Yeni Cho gushes, jealous of the praise and recognition the youngest competitor is getting. 
“Did Bada just compliment you?” Kirsten murmurs the question once y/n gets closer to her. The younger of the two just giggles again and shrugs her shoulders, trying to suppress her smile.
“I guess she did…” 
__________________
Next was the sub-leader battle, which let’s just say, did not go well for y/n. She was still riding her high from getting crowned main dancer, and she was so excited to watch Latrice perform after watching her choreography, but she was still mildly annoyed at the others for doubting her members. The judges ask about the process and hardships and Redlic begins to speak. She expresses an irritation towards Latrice’s apparent lack of professionalism, causing all of Jam Republic to prickle slightly, especially their designated hothead, y/n. She was able to control her distaste for a bit, but then Redlic started talking out of her ass again and y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes and scoff in irritation.
"I'm so fucking sick of her attitude" and Kirsten's eyes get so wide, she immediately turns to her and covers her mouth
"You really need to start remembering you're on camera," she says seriously but laughs a little. y/n doesn't even look pissed at this point- she's got this annoyed, almost disgusted look on her face.
"your girl is pissed off again"
Bada immediately turns to look for y/n, and Tatter throws her hands up in defeat. y/n keeps listening to Redlic complain, now with an exhausted glare, waiting for her to shut the fuck up
"I'm so tired of her shit-" she starts with arms crossed, "maybe if she was better she wouldn’t have to rely on making excuses as to why she couldn't pick up the choreo." y/n speaks evenly and surprisingly calm, but one look at her face tells everyone that her comment was a genuine dig intended to knock the blonde dancer down a peg. Members from both Bebe and 1 Million hear her, as they are the two teams sitting on the outside of Jam Republic, and can’t help but either laugh in shock or sit there with scared wide eyes.
“Waaaah y/n is so scary!” Redy exclaims hiding slightly behind Lia Kim, giggling nervously.
When it comes time for them to finally dance, y/n is already on her feet ready to cheer Latrice on louder than anyone has ever cheered. Although she’s ready to cheer, y/n still looks cold and scary with her arms crossed and the tired glare beaming in her eyes. The music starts and y/n is already screaming.
“Let’s go Latrice! It’s yours! TAKE IT!!!” her screams even had Bada raising her eyebrows in shock at the volume and continuous energy coming out of the small girl. She suppresses a smile and goes back to watching Lusher dance alongside Latrice. Once the music stopped, y/n was critiquing openly in an instant.
"She tried too hard to make it sexy, it ended up looking cheap" she states, cold eyes trained on Redlic.
"damn, you are RUTHLESS" Audrey comments, laughing at her friend's easy to activate temper.
The judges converse once again, and they seem to make a decision quicker than when y/n had competed.
“The dancer chosen to fill the main dancer position is Jam Republic’s Latrice.” they announce and y/n shoots up in the air like a rocket, screaming her lungs out. The relief she feels after hearing the news is very evident on her face. As the judges gave their opinions and reasoning behind their decision y/n felt herself finally feeling satisfied, a proud smile overtaking her features. Her peace is disturbed very quickly though by Redlic, who expresses how she thinks the decision was unfair, and that Latrice was only picked for her physique. 
Y/n had never felt more enraged at that moment.
“Is she fucking serious?” she outwardly and quite loudly questions, causing everyone to look at her, and Kirsten to put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a look as to say “watch yourself”. Redlic meets the girl's eyes and immediately regrets everything. Y/n has never looked more dangerous, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She’s got this angry, evil smirk- and she laughs when Redlic turns around and goes “sorry” while hanging her head.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought” Y/n crosses her arms and leans back in her seat, face still hot with anger, and eye trained on Redlic as she walks back to her seat. Kirsten sighs and massages her forehead, stressed because 1) why the fuck did one of her dancers just get talked about like that in the grand year of 2023, and 2) she doesn’t know how she’s gonna deal with little-miss-attitude-problem. Even after putting her rage aside for a moment to congratulate and celebrate Latrice, y/n is back to glaring at Redlic, unable to pay attention to anything else, until it’s time for the leader lineup to compete.
The leaders all step away from their crews and into the fight zone, preparing to battle. Audrey, wanting to cause some mischief and tease her friends some more, turns to y/n with a look that can’t mean anything good.
“So who do you want to be the main dancer y/n? Are you still our team member or has Bebe won you over?” the short-haired girl ponders sarcastically.
"What kind of question even is that? Of course Kirsten- she's my mom, Bada is just my girlfriend." y/n answers sounding fully serious, but obviously joking when she shares the second half of her response. Emma ‘tsks’ and looks over at the two of them with a strange look.
"Why do you always have to say stuff that's gonna get you canceled when there are cameras around" the oldest of the three asks jokingly, causing the youngest’s jaw to drop in confusion.
"Why would I get canceled??"- "BECAUSE YOU AREN'T DATING HER????" Emma and y/n go back and forth just like siblings. Audrey laughs at the chaos she caused, Ling sighs- disappointed but not surprised with the banter, and Latrice minds her own business- focusing on Kirsten and the competition.
"I just wish for one day of peace where y/n isn't saying weird shit and being delusional-" "DID YOU SEE THE WAY SHE LOOKED AT ME BRO???"
yeah…
It’s officially time for the leaders to battle and, y/n is sat, ready to go. Bada and Kirsten are in separate groups, much to y/n’s satisfaction, as she can freely watch both without having to worry about missing the other. y/n tries to control her awe while watching Bada, but she gets a little too excited and ends up outwardly cheering- and she panics and laughs when Audrey playfully side-eyes her. She sits back down and tries to suppress her excitement, but Bada is just too good to be real. It’s not a style that y/n would be able to pull off unless she was 100% confident in knowing the choreography, but watching Bada do it so effortlessly made her want to learn it too. When she does the final ‘lighter’ pose at the end, Bada comes back to reality and can feel eyes on her, which makes sense since everyone was watching, but she still shifts her eyes slightly to meet with y/n’s. Y/n, who is holding her breath, covering the lower half of her face (hiding a blush). Y/n, whose eyes widen about three sizes when she realizes Bada is staring at her. The girl fumbles for a second but then moves her hands away from her face to give Bada a double ‘thumbs up’ and frantically nods in approval, revealing a blush in the meantime. Bada just smirks and turns to exit the floor in order to make room for the next group.
When she's watching Kirsten though- it's a shock how y/n hasn't passed out yet with how much she's screaming and cheering. Bada’s eyes are going back and forth between Kirsten and y/n. She’s surprisingly able to focus more on the leader’s dancing, rather than the younger member’s cheering. Either way, she’s irritated. If y/n were on her team, would she cheer for her like that?  Does she truly think Kirsten is better than her, or is it just because they’re on the same team? Bada’s head is full of questions, but she forces herself to push them aside for right now, putting her full focus back on the competition.
When they rematch the first time, y/n controls her emotions even less. Again, Bada and Kirsten are in different groups, allowing y/n to enjoy both of their performances. Then when they rematch the third time, all her restraint is out the door. She’s screaming and cheering as loud as ever, and everyone just assumes it’s for Kirsten- which most of it is! But occasionally y/n will react to something Bada had done, and nobody even questions it.
The two finish dancing together and everyone can admit that they’re untouchable.
“Can’t they just both be the main dancers?” Y/n groans and whines in anticipation as the judges take their good ‘ol time deciding the main dancer. When Bada is announced as the winner, y/n claps respectfully with a disappointed but somewhat satisfied smile. Of course she’s extremely happy for her, but it’s still a loss for her team. So the young girl stands up and claps slightly more enthusiastically, just happy to have been able to witness such an insane performance.
Bada is feeling unexplainably proud. She falls to the ground and thanks the judges. Kirsten did such an amazing job and Bada truly felt honored to have been able to dance with her. She really did have a better understanding now why y/n admired her so much. 
Then Bada kisses Kirsten on the cheek, and the young girl stops smiling and clapping altogether- she just kind of freezes, her mouth slightly hung open. With her body still frozen mid-clap, y/n just slowly turns her head to Emma who's already looking at her with an amused smirk, trying not to burst out laughing at her younger teammate's jealousy.
“Why is it everyone BUT ME???” y/n snaps out of her frozen frame and dramatically crumples to the ground.
___________________
On the day of the video shoot, everyone is getting their hair and makeup done. Bada is sitting away from the rest of the leaders when she feels her phone buzz. She picks it up to see a text from y/n, and when she opens it, she's met with a selfie of her and Tatter. It's the two of them making scrunched-up faces and pouting playfully at the camera. They're both holding onto a ribbon-tied strand of the other's hair, pretending to tug on it. Bada smiles subconsciously and hearts the message, saving the picture. She then aims her camera at the mirror snapping her own selfie and sending it. She’s honestly really glad y/n set that because the two hadn’t texted since Bada first got her number a few days ago. 
Y/n’s phone pings twice and she opens it, only to slam it back down. It wasn’t even that serious but Bada looked way too good in that picture for y/n to think rationally. On top of that- she didn’t really want her stylist to accidentally peek over her shoulder and see that she was texting Bada. So she waited for the stylist to walk away for a second, before opening her phone again to heart the message and reply with ‘stooop, you look so good😩’. She hesitated for a second before ultimately deciding to save the picture to her camera roll, smiling then placing her phone back down on the counter as her stylists came back. 
Bada opens her phone again, smiling at the message. She types out ‘call me on your break’ but decides to change it to ‘text me when you guys get a break? I wanna talk to you<3’ then presses send. Y/n receives the message and turns her brightness down to make it harder for anyone else to see. She bites her lip to suppress her smile and replies ‘ofc!!’ with a heart emoji.
The shoots begin and everything is going moderately smooth until it's announced that people have the opportunity to switch parts, but only the main dancer can make that decision. y/n groans and throws her head back while covering her eyes. She starts laughing in disbelief and looks around at the other rookie members
"Let's just have fun, please. Obviously- work hard and strive for your best, but just have fun when you dance cuz that'll make all the difference to me" was what she told everyone when she was asked how she felt about it. 
The rookies were all laughing and having a blast, especially Redy, y/n, and Rena- the other two shared the center with y/n a lot, although they often alternated with Tatter and Gooseul. Gooseul, trying to get on y/n's good side, always comes to find her on breaks and takes lots of selfies with her, making sure to compliment every aspect of the girl. Redy, who actually has taken quite a liking to y/n feels a little defensive and worms her way into any conversation Gooseul tries to have with the main dancer. So now Gooseul and Y/n selfies are Gooseul, y/n, and Redy selfies, which eventually just become Y/n and Redy selfies.
Now THIS catches Tatter's attention- and Tatter is making a move to start conversation with y/n- asking her about certain moves and how she wants the quality of a specific section to be portrayed. She has to stay on y/n's good side because 1) she knows this girl is ruthless and will easily tear her apart if she needs to, and 2) Bada would probably die of heartbreak if Tatter and y/n didn't end up on good terms.
The go on a quick break and y/n thinks about texting Bada, but she worries she won’t have much time to talk. Instead she just reviews the notes she made for the shoot regarding what she wanted to do with the concept. 
“I wish we could do an outfit change” y/n express with a slight pout.
“You’re the director- you can make the call do have an outfit change,” the staff tells her. They had prepared multiple outfits in case some hadn’t ended up blending well with the others, so it wasn’t a problem.
“REALLY???” She gets so excited and runs to tell the other girls her idea. y/n explains how she wants them to do the final chorus in different outfits that are a bit more girly and cunty to bring the vibe together more, to which they enthusiastically agree. Y/n keeps sharing her ideas, and making changes to better the final product, and surprisingly no one is complaining about it- or ar least not to her face.
“I want the second verse to be all small groups or duos” She shares her next idea, which everyone agrees with in a heartbeat cuz they all want more screen time. She organizes it so that Yeni Cho and Buckey take the first chunk of the second verse, and Rena and Capri take the latter half; leaving Tatter, Redy, and Gooseul with the build-up to the chorus; and y/n coming back in as the center for the chorus.
As they practice the blocking for this part, y/n works with the groups one-on-one and the others continue to practice, except for Yeni and Buckey who are trying to figure out a way to make their screen time last longer.
Ultimately Yeni and Buckey try to get y/n to make their part longer, but she politely declines saying she choreographed each part for a specific reason and it wouldn't make sense with the music to elongate their part-
“Try not to worry please because the camera angles will capture you- I promise you’ll have other opportunities to be seen” And they’re obviously not happy. Yeni kind of just resigns in defeat after trying and failing to get more screen time, but Buckey’s attitude is a little less cooperative now. As they continue the shoot, Buckey’s not really being a team player because she’s trying too hard to stand out, and causing it to look messy. Y/n keeps monitoring and asking to redo shots because Buckey isn’t blending well with everyone
“Buckey please try to blend better- maybe relax your movements a little here-“ she starts but it cut off by Buckey
“Why would I want to blend in with everyone?” She questions irritated. Y/n’s eyes just widen in gentle confusion, because why is she suddenly upset?
“Well you need to blend but not necessarily blend IN- you stand out too much right now” the main dancer tries to explain calmly and evenly while still genuinely trying  to appease Buckey’s stress
“Y/n I think I look fine, You have to realize I’m competing to win too, so I have to do what I can to catch the judges' attention” It’s silent among the girls as they all stand baffled by mannequeen’s dancer. They turn their glances towards y/n who’s standing firmly with her arms crossed, looking eerily calm, her eyes starting to have the daring glare that only appears when y/n is so angry that even she knows it’d be bad for her to speak before thinking.
“Buckey I want everyone to stand out, but as of right now, you’re only doing so in a negative way. I understand you want to catch the judges’ attention, but this is the wrong way to do it…” she takes a deep breath
“And if you continue with this current attitude, you’ll end up placing last by the judges and be voted worst dancer.” Y/n’s firm statement sent a chill down everyone’s spine. She cracked her jaw and then let out a heavy sigh
“Let’s get back to the shoot.” she directs loud and clear and turns around to head back towards the set. Everyone glances around at each other, then discreetly at Buckey, before following y/n
"She's so scary when she's upset" Gooseul whines in a whisper
"Yeah and that's exactly why you shouldn't make her upset-" Redy whispers back
"just don't do stupid shit around her and you won't make her upset- y/n seems to be really chill unless you cross a line with her, which makes sense." Tatter joins the conversation with the other two who nod and hum in agreement.
After the slight incident, the rest of the shoot went really well. Buckey got it together but still had a sour attitude, yet everyone looked amazing. Y/n felt really proud of them and honestly wished to work with them all again. They wrapped up the shoot by filming the final chorus in their new outfits, in which they all made sure to take plenty of selfies in. When they finally finished everything, all the girls went to their dressing rooms to take off their makeup and put on their regular clothes. Y/n had been so focused on directing the video, that she totally forgot to text Bada on her break.
She whipped out her phone and typed a quick ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t text you when I had a break- I was so focused on perfecting the project that I didn’t even have my phone on me’, feeling stupid for already screwing things up. Bada didn’t respond for about 45 minutes because the leaders were still shooting, and when they finished up they had all done the same as the rookies and immediately washed off their makeup and put on comfy clothes. When Bada saw the message, she felt bad for leaving y/n on delivered but quickly rationalized that she couldn't have helped it. 
‘It’s totally fine! I completely understand- we actually just finished filming so that’s why I wasn’t able to respond right away.’ The older girl replies to her text, and receives an almost instantaneous response of ‘oh okay! How was it??’ and they discuss how each of their days went. The two continue talking for the rest of their way back from their shooting sites, and even after they’ve both showered and changed into their pajamas. 
‘I’m honestly obsessed with the outfits we had today’ y/n texts. ‘Oooh do you have pics?’ Bada replies. ‘Of course I do! But…’ ‘...but what?’ y/n debates on whether or not she actually wants to send Bada all the cute pictures Redy took of her, but she ultimately decides against it for now.
‘But I want you to see them tomorrow and be surprised 😋’ the younger girl finally responds, feeling like teasing a little bit. Bada smiles at her phone but acts annoyed over text- ‘Ugh you can’t be serious’ she replies then adds on ‘Not even one picture? :(‘And of course y/n can’t help how fast her heart beats and how much of a loser she is for Bada, so she gives in.
‘Fine, you can see ONE picture, and it’s not even gonna be my full outfit cuz I still want you to be surprised- so just makeup and the top half!’ the young girl offers, to which Bada likes the message and hits her with a ‘yes, of course, I promise I'll still be surprised’, just excited to see her again. Y/n giggles and sends her one of the mirror selfies she took after changing into her second look. Bada was absolutely speechless- the girl had her hair in two high pigtails with a few wispy pieces left out and had in blue contacts with pink makeup- pink eyeshadow, strawberry gloss, rosy blush, and of course glitter. Along with her makeup, y/n’s entire outfit (from what Bada could see) was pink and glittery- she truly looked like a Barbie. What really secured Bada’s astonishment was her expression- y/n’s plump and glossy lips were ever so slightly parted and her eyes (accentuated by her makeup making her look more cat-like than the usual puppy-eyes-girls that Bada was used to) holding a sultry, seductive stare. Bada didn’t hesitate at all to save the photo and expose herself by immediately sending it to the Bebe group chat with the text ‘I can’t do this anymore’, to which Lusher responded with ‘my gf is so fine🤭’ and the leader’s immediate response was ‘muting the group chat now and blocking your ass’. 
She was about to continue her argument with Lusher until she got another text from y/n. ‘Uhm okay yeah just beg me for a fit pic and then leave me on read, okay🙄 jk lol’ and Bada panics for a second realizing she did in fact open her first message and not respond. ‘Sorry! I’m gonna be totally honest I was literally left speechless and didn’t know what to say’ and when y/n read this, she laughed slightly in disbelief ‘ohhh okay, suuuuure’ she types out and presses send with a relaxed smile overtaking her face. The feeling y/n has whenever talking to Bada, whether it be in person or over text, is just so indescribable that she doesn’t even wanna think about what that could mean for her. Bada reacts to the message with the ‘haha’ button and continues to try and defend herself. She and y/n joke around some more before talking about how excited they are to see each other’s videos, then saying goodnight and falling asleep shortly after.
The next day all the main dancers are called in to help edit their videos. Y/n and Bada pass by each other exchanging quick ‘good-mornings’ and shy smiles before heading their separate ways with blushes already painting both of their faces. 
A few hours of editing go by and they all go on break, getting up and walking around to get some air. As Bada walks out of her designated office space that she’s been working in all day, y/n comes bounding up to her with a gentle yet vibrant smile.
“Hey!” she stops in front of her and stares up at Bada with bright eyes. The older of the two suppresses a giggle but smiles endearingly never the less.
“Hi, y/n” Bada greets her in a soft, some could say “loving” tone, with that same gentle, endeared smile that seems to have become her default when seeing the small girl.
“Sooo I was wondering…” y/n starts by elongating the first word of her sentence and looking around, dramatically avoiding eye contact, causing Bada’s smile to grow at the girl’s silly attitude.
“Would you maybe wanna get lunch after this? Or- I guess dinner depending on when we get out- either way, it's whatever… but… yeah!” she tries to finish confidently but gets tripped up once she realizes he doesn’t know exactly when they’d both be free during the day. The smile on her face, when she concludes sharing her idea, makes Bada feel so terrible knowing she has to decline. The older immediately sighs and her face drops, causing y/n’s to do the same and Bada feels even more guilty seeing her sad, wide puppy eyes.
“I’m so sorry y/n-ie, but the rest of the team and I made plans to go out to eat tonight since we haven’t had much time to actually talk to each other with filming and all…” Bada explains and it genuinely pains her to have to decline y/n. The smaller girl just furrows her brows and shakes her head quickly dismissing Bada’s apology.
“You don’t have to apologize at all! It’s totally fine, really I promise!” y/n smiles reassuringly, even though she’s a little crushed. Bada still has this regretful look in her eyes and the younger girl giggles when Bada’s frown turns into a full-on pout.
“I promise you, we will go out soon. The two of us.” she assures, looking into y/n’s eyes. The girl couldn’t look more in love than she does when staring into the older girl’s eyes. y/n just keeps smiling and the feeling of warmth and happiness is so intense even she herself is sure her eyes are sparkling. 
“Promise?” y/n asks softly, trying to suppress the giant grin that she knows would be taking over her face if she wasn’t trying as hard as she was now. Bada has a similar look on her face- a gentle smile and soft eyes.
“I promise.” she confirms with a nod. There’s a short pause as the two just look into each other’s eyes before y/n breaks eye contact. She looks down and finally stops suppressing her smile, letting herself giggle a little bit before looking back up and trying to retrain herself again.
“Okay.” she replies softly and nods, then turns to walk back to her office space. She looks over her shoulder to glance at Bada, then turns around fully to walk backward while talking to her again
“You should probably get back to editing your video so you can go enjoy free time with your team” the younger teases a little with a smile. And Bada’s slightly knocked out of her lovestruck stare, scoffing and rolling her eyes playfully.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever- and you should be doing the same thing” she starts walking in the same direction, as both of their respective spaces are on the same side of the building.
“Actually, I have all night. I don't have plans, remember?” y/n teases again, raising her eyebrows at the Bebe leader, causing her to throw her head back and groan. The smaller of the two laughed quietly watching the other.
“I’m sorry- I feel awful, I really do want to go out with you!” and even though y/n knows she didn’t mean it in that specific context, her heart still picks up the pace and she flushes a little, once again suppressing a grin.
“I’m totally messing with you… ya know- like how you like to mess with me” as they reach y/n’s office space she finishes her teasing by coolly crossing her arms over her chest and leaning on the door frame, looking at Bada once again. Bada makes eye contact with her and holds her breath for a second. She sighs and then chuckles softly.
“Yeah… I guess I do like to tease you…” she avoids eye contact, standing with her hands in her pockets, but still smiles knowingly. Right as she’s about to leave she flicks the brim of y/n’s cap then pulls it back down over her eyes,
“But I guess we’re even now” She shrugs and and walks off after teasing the younger girl, leaving her to groan and laugh in annoyance.
___________________
After editing and such, the day ends for the main dancers and they prepare for the following day, which is when each video will be shown to the rest of the dancers. When they all arrive at the studio that day, everyone is excited and chattering. After a while of setting, everything is ready and it’s time to watch each group’s music video.
The rookies go first, and y/n feels like electricity is shooting through with how excited, yet nervous she is to see the final product on a big screen. When y/n appears for the first time- everyone is once again in shock at how different she looks. The professional hair and makeup, along with the outfit she had on, turned her into a totally different person. The charismatic, alluring girl on the screen was definitely not the same as the excited baby girl who was currently hiding behind her teammates, shyly peaking over their shoulders to watch the video
The video is playing about 30 seconds in, everyone is losing their shit. Why? Because Rena, Tatter, and y/n are already a powerful trio that no one knew they need, but on top of that- them shaking ass on each other like their lives depended on it in the first 30 seconds of choreography was just too much to handle for some people. 
Some people being Bada Lee- who was so baffled that after she screamed probably the most fangirl-esque scream ever, she didn't know what to do with herself. Her jaw just dropped to the floor, and her eyes slightly glazed over as she hyper-fixated on the screen in front of her. She only came back to reality when y/n was no longer on the screen for the moment, and Redy and Gooseul took over briefly. When y/n repapered, she was doing partner work with Tatter, and Bada's excited smile and cheers made a comeback
"Ugh, I love my girls" she gushes, staring ahead affectionately at the screen. Bada is just so blown away by the music video as a whole. She’s mainly focused on y/n and Tatter, very appreciative and thankful to see how much screen time her teammate got. But besides that, Bada can’t help but mentally praise y/n for directive skills. The set and concept suit every member so well, and when the bridge arrives Bada can feel something the tension rising, and anticipates whatever creative decision y/n made.
As the final chorus arrives, the camera transitions from just y/n in her main outfit to the whole group in their matching pink outfits, per y/n’s request. Everyone flips again, surprised by the full outfit change and slight alterations in set design. 
Bada screamed and clapped, totally forgetting that this was the outfit y/n was talking about yesterday, still just as surprised, as she promised. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty though, as now she found it absolutely impossible to focus on anyone else in the video, even her own teammate, since y/n’s full outfit was revealed. Bada’s face got red and her eyes slightly glazed over again as her face went serious trying to erase the thoughts of y/n dancing confidently in a tight top and mini skirt, with her thigh highs and ribbons. 
The video ended and the studio was filled with applause and screams from everyone, including the judges who all stood and cheered just as loud as the rest of the girls. 
Bebe’s leader sits there with her jaw dropped and her hands on her head, just absolutely astonished by the final product of the rookies’ video. The rest of her team is still cheering and clapping, and once Tatter notices Bada’s frozen figure, she starts laughing and playfully shakes her by her shoulder out of excitement. Bada turns slowly, smiling lightly, still in a daze
“Tatter, you might have to start planning my funeral” she informs her jokingly in a soft tone, but in all honesty, Bada feels dizzy still.
After everyone settles, middle-class and sub-leader-class videos are played, both getting similar reactions to the rookies’. Once both have been viewed and gotten their respective reactions and attention, the leaders’ video is the last to be played.
“Why am I actually so nervous…” Bada anxiously laughs and sighs rubbing her hands together. Tatter leans her head on her shoulder and glances up at the leader
“Because you want y/n to like it.” the blonde states matter-of-factly, not moving her head off Bada’s shoulder, but turning her attention back to the screen where the video is about to play. Bada huffs out a laugh and nudges her slightly, just enough to disrupt her peace, but not too much to knock her off.
“I want everyone to like it.” Bada clarifies, even though everyone knows how much more she seems to value the Jam Rrepublic dancer’s opinion these days compared to other dancers.
The video starts and the cheers for Bada start from the second she appears. When she takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair, everyone is going feral, obviously including y/n. 
“A MOTORCYCLE???? SHE HAS A MOTORCYCLE?????” The girl is screaming and then she pretends to faint onto Audrey who just laughs and shakes her out of excitement and adrenaline. y/n’s next cause of heart failure is when Bada holds up the lighter and then blows out the flame before everyone starts dancing. 
"Kirsten I love you so much, but I think I might have to leave with Bada after all this" “Y/n it’s been 40 SECONDS- please have some decorum…” Emma, ever the y/n-delusion-destroyer, sighs out, shaking her head, but still managing to laugh. It’s no use, Emma, this girl is red in the face already, and definitely not thinking tv-appropriate things.
Variations of the same situation continue to happen throughout the viewing of the video, except y/n gets even more excited when Kirsten and Bada appear at the same time, sharing the spotlight. The video ends and y/n just stands up and claps while shaking her head in astonishment.
“I’m never gonna move on from this…” She sounds worn out and by the way she was screaming and freaking out, it made sense.
Since all of the videos had been viewed, it was time for each main dancer to pick the worst dancer from their mission crew. They end up going from bottom rank, therefore starting with the rookie class. Y/n’s mood has totally changed, and now as she walks to the center of the fight zone, her bright smile and confident aura nowhere to be seen.
"I really didn't want to pick anyone as the worst dancer, because I sincerely enjoyed working with each and every one of them…" She starts holding the mic with both hands (Bada's beginning to think this is a nervous habit of hers)
"Even when there were some issues, I was still very proud of everyone and felt very lucky to be able to create such an amazing project with these people…" y/n bites her lip and looks up, blinking fast, feeling tears start to build up. The mood in the studio was completely different than it was only a few moments ago.
"Ah poor y/n, she really did have such a good time with everyone" Rena expresses, frowning along with her team, nodding her head in pity.
"Oh no, this must be so hard for her" Sayaka sympathizes, pouting in understanding of the young dancer's distress. Other teams shared similar looks and small conversations. Y/n took a deep breath and held the air in her cheeks, causing them to puff.
"AWW I'M GONNA CRY WITH HER-" Mannequeen's Yoonji expresses as she feels for the girl in the middle of the dance floor
"Oh my god- how can she still be so cute even when she's crying" Yeni Cho comments with an endeared smile directed at y/n's small stature settled in front of them all, cheeks still puffed up. The young dancer finally lets out a big sigh and lowers her head for a second, letting a tear fall
"DON'T CRY BABY- IT'S OKAY!!" Lusher shouts over her teammates' heads trying to reassure her friend, and giving her a big comforting smile and a thumbs up when y/n meets he eyes. Y/n laughs a little, wiping her tears and then tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat.
"I'm sorry- ultimately I made my decision based on the fact that there were some points when professionalism was sacrificed for the sake of wanting to gain attention, which in turn put the quality of the project at risk… and for that reason…" she lets out a shaky breath, tears building up quickly again.
"I choose Mannequeen's Buckey as the worst dancer" she finishes in a choked voice. Holding the mic away from her in one hand now y/n hangs her head and covers her mouth with her other hand as she cries silently. She heads back over to her team, sniffling and they all immediately hug her, causing her to burst into full-on sobs
"This is so much harder than I thought it was gonna be." She looks up again, trying to get the tears to stop flowing. From across the room, team Bebe is just about as worried as Jam Republic, seeing as y/n is practically an honorary member now.
"This is the most heartbreaking thing I've ever seen." Bada stares directly at y/n's distressed frame and feels herself sink into her seat, the sadness of the whole situation getting to her. Or rather- the sadness of y/n is getting to her. Bada feels her own tears beginning to prick in her eyes.
"I know… poor princess" Tatter shares the same expression of sympathy as the rest of her crew, wishing she could just go and give the girl a big squeeze and tell her she did a good job.
"It's sad, but at least it wasn't you" Lusher points out, still just as somber as her teammates. They all nod and Bada's focus is only on y/n until the next class is announced. She doesn't pay attention as the main dancers for the middle class go up, too focused on making sure y/n is able to calm down. The Bebe leader made a mental note to go right to her when they went on break to make sure she was okay.
When it’s Bada is picking the worst dancer for leader class, y/n seems more nervous than Kirsten
"I think she might pick me" Kirsten calmly admits
"Don't say that, I'll cry. If she picks you… I don't think I'll be able to recover from that heartbreak" y/n expresses in a daze, genuinely starting to worry about the results. Then Bada declares Mina as the worst dancer, causing everyone to let out a sigh of relief, except deep n dap of course. 
y/n's eyes are trained on Bada with a worried look mixed into her signature puppy eyes. Once she sees a tear roll down her face, y/n has to turn away or else she knew she'd start crying again too. She could already feel the pressure building in her eyes and heart. She hugs her leader and looks up at her for a second, silently communicating how proud she is of her, before leaning her head on her shoulder. Kirsten hugs the younger girl back and rests her head on top of y/n's, letting out a sigh.
"I hate when people cry, but it makes me especially upset seeing Bada cry" y/n whispers, a tear escaping down her face, while still clinging to Kirsten, who pets her hair and nods.
"That's because you're an angel, y/n. you care so much about the people in your life, and can't stand when they're sad…" her leader declares gently.
"You also are pretty much in love with Bada, so she's been subconsciously added to your mental list of people whose emotions you pick up." She finishes with a little bit of teasing in hopes of brightening the young girl's mood. Luckily it works, as y/n glances up at Kirsten once again, with a playful pout before huffing in faux-annoyance and letting her head fall somewhat aggressively back onto the leader's shoulder causing her to let out a gentle laugh
All the main dancers have picked the worst dancer, meaning it’s time for the final mission ranking. y/n is so excited that Bebe goes from sixth to third- once they're announced, she shoots up out of her seat with wide eyes and jaw dropped, her hands go straight to the sides of her head as she stands there in excited shock. When everyone's individual scores are shown, and it's revealed that Bada got a perfect score, y/n isn't shocked at all- in fact she expected it and was satisfied with the result
"waaaaah…as expected of Bada Lee…" she expresses proudly, staring up at the screen in admiration.
"She's so much more than a dancer, like- she's just absolutely insane… wow" This is the calmest y/n has ever been when talking about Bada, and her teammates almost feel like her lack of panic is somehow worse than the girl's usual blush and frantic expression. They all just look at her and while some smile along with her, others chuckle at the girl's proud lovestruck expression.
"We've officially lost her…" Emma jokes, shaking her head, purses her lips, and then lets out a sigh
"Please take care of our y/n, Bebe" Audrey joins in, wiping a fake tear from her eyes
Other teams are announced and once the girls realize Jam Republic made it into the top two they all start lowkey freaking out. they are announced as the first-place team and all celebrate respectfully making sure to hug each other. Their scores were revealed and the cheers got even louder. y/n had gotten a perfect, same as Latrice and Bada. 
The girl just about collapses to the ground in a ball, covering her mouth in shock. Bebe applauds and cheers loudly, especially Lusher and Tatter-
"LET'S GO Y/NNNNNN!!!" the blonde screams alongside Lusher, both happy to see their new friend succeed. The younger smiles brightly, now standing again with the mic held in both hands as she expresses her gratitude, with beautiful sparking eyes
"I'm honestly a little shocked with myself, because of how many great dancers I had the opportunity to perform alongside with." she begins, looking around the room at each of them. Her smile somehow gets even bigger
"Thank you so much for making this such a wonderful experience, and I'll work harder to show you an even better version of myself, as well as Jam Republic. Thank you" she finishes elegantly and bows before handing the mic to Latrice.
"Wow… she really is a princess." Bada mumbles, dazedly gazing at y/n with what could only be explained as the same lovestruck look the young girl had earlier. The leader smiles softly in adoration at Jam Republic's youngest member. And Bada's members don't even tease her, they just smile and Tatter pats her on the shoulder, as they all agree- Y/n is definitely a princess
The small but mighty member of Jam Republic sits elegantly admiring as Latrice gives her speech. No one could deny that when y/n wasn't performing (or being pissed off) she looked like an actual angel- a beautiful angel fairy princess that definitely doesn't seem like the type to have such a temper as she actually does
Once everyone finishes their speeches, the next mission is announced- Kpop choreography mission
Everyone freaks out and starts excitedly chattering. But mostly, everyone is talking about the songs, or more specifically who’s already choreographed/danced to them. A lot of the teams start mentioning Bada, especially seeing next level as one of the song options
But then they do the same with y/n mentioning her since she danced center for "Not Shy" and "Kick It" at k-con, as well as choreographing a cover for “Eve, Psyche, and the Bluebirds Wife”, and went viral all three times. 
Everyone is a bit worried about competing against Bada and y/n specifically, even if they won’t admit it. Some are still underestimating the teams, saying how Bebe is only Bada and her students- and how Jam Republic is less skilled because they have less experience in kpop style dance. None of them wants to recognize that the rest of Bebe is just as talented and charismatic as Bada, and that Jam Republic is able to adapt and adjust quicker than any other team.
"y/n's known for her dance covers, but she's the only member of her team with experience in this setting…" Yoonji comments looking in the direction of the pink team.
"She's gonna have to carry the members" Funky Y added
"We're getting a lot of side-eyes" Ling points out her observation, and y/n surprisingly responds pretty calm
"Probably because they're all expecting us to do badly since we don't have much experience with the style" the youngest member responds maturely, nodding and observing the room
"Well you have plenty of experience, and we're all fast learners, so I'm not really worried" Kirsten coolly states, giving her members a confident smile
The dancers are given a break and teams begin to separate and head back to their rooms to decide which company they want to go for. Y/n starts to hop down the bleachers and stretch her arms above her head.
“This is just too much right now” y/n whines, pouting while she stretches. Her members look at her with adoration
“You’re such a cat…” Latrice comments, causing y/n’s pout to turn confused and the others to giggle
“No, she’s definitely more of a puppy” Kirsten counters ruffling her hair causing the pouting girl to whine at the older members’ teasing. She’s never gonna live that down.
From across the room, Bebe is discussing a strategy already, not paying any mind to the fact that they’re on a break right now. That is until y/n comes bounding over, with her signature smile.
“Congratulations Team Bebe!!” she cheers and throws her arms up in the arms. All of their serious faces immediately soften and Lusher hops off the bleachers to throw her arms around the younger girl
“My baby! You’ve cried so much today, are you okay?” she asks and frowns while holding the smaller girl's face in between her hands to dramatically look into her eyes and make sure she’s okay. Y/n laughs and lets the sub-leader pat her head and coddle her.
“I’m okay! I’m just very emotional…” she finishes softly, almost a little shy. Bada, not even caring about everyone else being around right now, holds her hand out. once y/n grabs it, the older pulls her towards her seat and sits her down next to her. Bada puts her arm around y/n’s shoulder and pulls the small girl in even closer, resting her head on top of y/n’s. All of Bebe is shocked, as well as y/n herself. Lusher and y/n share a wide-eyed look, causing Tatter to burst out laughing. 
Shortly after, Audrey and Kirsten make their way over as well. Audrey sneakily has her phone out and snaps a candid picture of y/n and bad that she’ll be showing the girl later. Bada makes eye contact with Kirsten and doesn’t even bother to lift her head off y/n’s all the way
“Do you need her back now?” Bada asks with a slight pout in her voice, but it’s so subtle they almost didn’t catch it. Kirsten smiles and Audrey giggles behind her hand.
“No we just wanted to come join the party.” the Jam leader explains shrugging her shoulder. Kyma is the first to enthusiastically agree, having gotten along with Audrey pretty well when they worked together on the middle-class mission.
“WAIT- that actually just reminded me that I never showed you the pictures I took the other day!” Y/n excitedly recalls, sitting straight up as she stares at her best friend and leader with wide eyes. She unlocks her phone and opens her camera roll, scrolling through he pictures and showing her teammates. Bada just stares at the side of her head, with her own puppy eyes now, hoping y/n will show her too and she won’t have to ask.
“I can finally show you know” It’s like y/n was reading Bada’s mind or something, because right as she was about to complain about y/n not showing her the picture, the younger girl turned her full attention to her and started scrolling from the beginning.
The pictures had Bada mesmerized- y/n looked fucking amazing. Some were cute, while others were sexy and Bada couldn’t help but think about making some of them her wallpaper, but then she realized how strange that would be. 
One of the pictures caught her attention in a not-so-good way though. it was a mirror selfie of y/n and redy- y/n was leaning on the table and redy was posing directly behind her, holding onto y/n’s hips, both of them sticking their tongues out and looking cute and sexy. Bada tried not to be jealous and rationalize that it was just a normal thing for girls to pose like that with their friends. Was she upset because it was Redy and not her? Or was it specifically the position you were in? Was it both?? Bada didn’t know, but she also didn’t seem to realize it was bothering her so much- as she unexpectedly commented out loud on it
“We should recreate this one” she swipes back to the picture that was pissing her off. Y/n couldn’t even hide her shock if she tried. And since none of the others could see her phone, they had no idea which one Bada was talking about- and were only left to imagine what it could be after seeing Bada’s teasing smirk and y/n’s astonished, very red face.
y/n laughed out in shock and just closed her eyes, nodding her head. She opened her eyes again and Bada was still smirking, leaning back on her hands.
“Sure… sure we can recreate it” y/n massages her forehead and sighs trying to regain a normal pace of breathing, as well as her natural skin tone instead of burning red. Bada’s smirk shifts more into a teasing smile and she leans forward to throw her arm around y/n again
“But for real- send me the ones of just you…” The older girl starts focusing on the phone in y/n’s hand. 
“You look extra pretty in them, and I wanna stare at you some more” Bada shifts her gaze to look y/n the eyes with a darker look that she’s only ever received two other times. At this point Audrey and Kirsten have begun to converse with the other Bebe members, leaving y/n and Bada in their own little world. Their faces were so close, y/n felt like she was holding her breath.
“Okay…” she whispers and nods slightly, not wanting to disrupt the peace, even though the situation made her feel far from peaceful. She looked back at her phone and started selecting which pictures to send to Bada, whose arm was still wrapped comfortably around her shoulder. She leaned her head on the shorter girl again and began to tell her which pictures she wanted. y/n giggled a little at how serious and demanding Bada was being over some selfies.
After all the pictures were selected, Kirsten and Audrey finished up their conversations with the other members and began to descend the bleachers. Once they reached the bottom, they looked and y/n and she lifted her gaze to meet Kirsten’s
“Time to get working?” the youngest questions. 
“Unfortunately, yes. But don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time afterward.” The Jam Republic leader reassures, and y/n stands up and stretches. She turns back to wave at the Bebe crew members then looks at Bada. She smiles a different smile than the one she had towards the rest of the members- this one being shy but knowing.
“I’ll talk to you later!” she tilts her head waiting for Bada’s response. The tall girl nods with a smile and leans back on her hands again to look up at the girl standing in front of her.
“Maybe we’ll be seeing each other sooner than we thought- we might pick the same songs and get to compete against each other” Bada tilts her, raises her eyebrows slightly, and smirks at the idea. Y/n’s face says it all, as that idea actually sounds quite terrifying to her.
“Please don’t manifest that” She laughs but is very serious, causing the other girl to laugh as well, knowing she also wouldn’t be able to survive competing against y/n.
The trio from Jam Republic meets up with the rest of them and heads up to their room, ready to start discussing the next mission. Audrey and y/n are at the back of the group as they walk down the hall, a bit of space between them and the older members.
“So…” Audrey starts with a knowing smile- y/n’s eyes widen, nervous for what she’s about to say
“Oh no… what now?” y/n variously laughs and Audrey chuckles 
“You and Bada??” “I KNEW THAT’S WHAT YOU WERE GONNA SAY”
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notes: i really did NOT think this part was gonna be as long as it was. also-it's 2 am here and i'm falling asleep writing this but i had to get it posted, so i'm sorry of the end is kinda shitty lol
taglist (open): @tinybada @angel-hyuckie @violetinferno @jesuschrist2006 @1luvkarina @uwulyn @justandloyal2961 @deadgirlwalking3 @heeheemich @squidvoldyvoid @vivzyo @ouhaika @jksjx @ocyeanicc @idontknownemore
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xratwriterx · 1 month
Text
A Story For Monster Fuckers
NSFW 18+
Synopsis: What starts as a classic horror story about a terrifying beast eating you alive becomes something far sluttier.
Word Count: 5000 (give or take)
Kinks/Triggers: wendigo(?) x female reader, NOT a lore accurate wendigo, monster x female reader, hell of a size difference, tongue fucking, multiple orgasms, breeding, it's a love story kinda but you're also silly and delulu.
Note: This is NOT an authentic wendigo. You're getting the stereotypical deer monster, not the humanoid cannibal creature from actual legend. I feel it's important to mention this, because the stories of what wendigos and skinwalkers are and such have been tainted by modern American culture, and deserve to be appreciated for what they are. I take LOTS of creative liberties in this story, and I just wanted to make sure y'all were aware. ;D
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It was supposed to have just been a regular stroll through the woods.
You were lost. Of course you were lost. You had known from the start that this whole thing was a wretched and horrible idea. But oh, you just had to listen to your friends didn't you? It wasn't like you had anything better to do…
Your buddy Benjamin in particular had made you feel somewhat comfortable with the whole idea. He was a massive man whose facial hair made him look far older than he actually was. He liked to go hunting around here, and he even brought his hunting rifle with him before coming to pick you and your friends up, more so to make you feel safe than anything else. “I've traveled through these woods for years now. I know every nook and cranny, ain't nothin gonna hurt you out here,” he had spoken as if the whole idea of your fear was annoying, though you knew he meant no harm, “Those stories you hear are just told for the fun of it. Those old geezers yapping on about cannibal cryptids just get a kick outta scaring you.” It was hard to not feel safe around him. He'd made himself very clear that he wasn't interested in you, (frankly, he didn't seem to have an iota of desire for a partner in his body), and he'd always been there to pick you up when you fell down. So when all of your friends were gonna go with him down some new and obscure little trail he had found just for the hell of it, it wasn't too challenging to egg you on to just join in.
Now you were really regretting listening to him.
You couldn't pinpoint when it was exactly that you had gotten lost. You were never all that good at paying attention, and you normally liked to just go nonverbal and let your friends do all the yapping while you were out and about. You had gotten caught up in the forest's beauty, staring up at the leaves and how the sun shot its rays of light between the gaps. It had been like walking underneath one enormous painting, filled with random and intricate layers of dazzling greens and soft browns. It was remarkably beautiful, so much so that by the time you stopped to look around again…
You had tried calling out for somebody, but nobody had come. You had tried backtracking, but everything looked the same, and there were a lot more diverging paths than what you had remembered. Worst of all, the sun was going down, and you knew once its light was gone that you wouldn't be able to see a thing.
You tried to take a deep breath. It was difficult not to panic, especially because of the sheer unfamiliarity of it all. It was like the entire layout of the forest changed every time you blinked. The very air you were breathing seemed to be tainted. It was like that feeling you get whenever you walk into a place and just know there's something paranormal about it. These woods were more than just haunted. It was almost as if you had been placed under some kind of curse.
Just as it was really getting dark, you saw a large field through a thicket of bushes. You hesitated for a moment, before finally deciding to go off the trail completely. Maybe a helicopter could see you better from a big open space like this, though you hoped it wouldn't also make you more visible to anything that wanted to eat you…
The sun was just about gone now. Great. At least there were some large rocks near the center of the field that you could hide by. They leaned on each other and were shaped in a way that provided minimal shelter, but it was better than nothing. You huddled up and decided to just keep your mouth shut until you heard something that sounded friendly…
As time went by, you checked to see if your phone had any signal for good measure. Of course, it didn't, but that little box of light and colors was your only piece of familiarity in all of this. You took a moment to look through your photos, clearing some unnecessary clutter while thinking back to all of the memories you had before this.
You weren't gonna die out here. You were scared out of your damn mind, but you knew in your gut that this wasn’t how it was going to end. You couldn't have been THAT far from home, and even if you were, you were in a spot that must've been easy to find from the air. Maybe tomorrow you could even grab some rocks and spell out the word “help” or something. If anything, this was an opportunity to collect some crazy new y/n lore.
You turned down the brightness on your phone and looked up at the sky for what was supposed to be a moment, before becoming completely entranced. You had never seen so many stars before, and the moon was casting its light down on the soft grass that surrounded you. You had never seen something that managed to be so simultaneously beautiful and creepy. It certainly wasn't helping that everything had just gone utterly silent. You could've sworn you had heard birds chirping before, but now there was nothing. When you finally took a moment to acknowledge your surroundings again, you felt your heart sink. There was something in the woods looking back at you.
You could barely make out its figure, but it was standing right at the forest edge, and it did not look normal. It wasn't moving at all, but you knew it wasn't just an oddly shaped tree. You could feel its eyes on you. A cool rush of adrenaline had shot out from your spine through your entire body. You refused to blink, because you knew the moment you did it would be gone. Sure, seeing some beast in the distance was frightening, but it was better than knowing something was out there without knowing its exact location. You sat completely still, hoping it wasn't looking at you, even though you knew it was. This was definitely the most intense staring contest you had ever been in.
You could feel your eyes starting to burn and well with tears, but you just couldn't bring yourself to blink. You did your best to keep an eye on the thing as you slowly opened your phone and pressed the button for the flashlight. With a triumphant movement, you raised the light to see what was there and…
There was nothing. The light didn't reach. In fact, the bright light caused your eyes to adjust, and now you couldn’t see the tree line. Not only that, but you had also just confirmed to this creature that you were in fact present. You quickly turned the light off, and of course by the time your eyes had adjusted again, the creature was long gone.
Cursing yourself for making such an idiotic move, you tried to huddle closer to the rocks, as if they'd protect you at all from whatever was out there. You knew you had seen something. This wasn't your eyes playing tricks on you, as much as you wished that were the case.
Every second felt like a minute. The tension was so thick it could've been sliced with a disposable plastic knife that you’d find at a birthday party. You were frantically scanning the tree line in front of you, but the rocks you were hiding behind blocked any view of the woods behind you, and you didn't dare try to look around. You were just waiting for something to slowly peek its head around. Your brain kept conjuring up worse and worse ideas of what you had just looked at, making this living nightmare all the more unbearable, and that wasn't even mentioning the regret you felt for pulling your damn phone flashlight out.
The woods began to speak again. Whatever had been looking at you was gone now. You nearly screamed when you saw something trotting across the field in front of you, but you let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was a deer.
A few more followed, and they moved with purpose, almost as if they wanted to get through the field as quickly as possible. You didn't blame them, but you weren't about to join in. This field was your only chance of rescue, and you weren't about to let some spooky cryptid fresh out of a shitty YouTube analog horror video scare you off. You triumphantly smiled and almost laughed, more out of the insanity of it all than anything else, but you didn't dare make a sound. You had no delusions about the fact that whatever the hell was out there was absolutely real.
You tried to conjure up from memory what exactly those old men in town had said in those tales about the forest. It was a legend that had been passed down through the generations, one of a great beast that was once the most handsome man in an old native tribe. He was an arrogant man, and a cunning warrior, who through his strength and charm had become the leader of his people. But when this had happened, he only became greedy for more. He started to attack neighboring tribes, and he started a unique tradition of feasting on the captured leaders while they were still alive. This displeased the gods, and the more he did this, the more corrupt and insane he became. One day, the nearby tribes finally banded together as one and managed to capture him. It was then that he was banished to roam the woods until he died, never to be seen again…
But, while his mortal punishment had been given, the gods were still not satisfied, and so they cursed him with eternal life, a twisted form, and a permanent, insatiable hunger for human flesh. Rumor has it that he roams these woods to this day, looking for his next victim. His original name has long since been forgotten. Only the word “Wendigo” remains…
Before, you had at least felt comfort in knowing these stories weren't true, but now that you had seen that thing, you couldn't think up a better explanation. Maybe you wouldn't make it out of here alive after all…
No, the minute you started to think like that was the moment it was all over. This was a prank, some cruel stupid prank your so called “friends” were playing on you. So what if they had always been extraordinarily kind and understanding before, and had never pulled something remotely mean on you before. It was a better explanation than being hunting by a mythical creature, right?
You took a deep breath, and called out into the woods, “I'm not scared of you!” The woods went quiet again the moment you finished speaking. You could almost feel the trees around you calling you a dullard. “Th-this is all just a stupid prank! And it's NOT funny! So- just come out RIGHT now! Or I'll-”
Something in the forest screamed.
You nearly squeaked before going silent. That sound you had heard was not human. It sounded like a mixture between a howl and a screech, something along the lines of a dying bovine. It had come from behind the rocks you were hiding in.
A few moments passed, and another sound came forth. This time it was a low growl, accompanied with the sound of claws on rock. You knew it was doing this on purpose. If it wanted to be silent, it definitely could've. It was slowly making its way to your left, coming around to reveal itself to you. There was nothing you could do to stop this creature.
It started with a hand, covered in a thin layer of black fur and tipped with sharp claws. Then came around the rest of the creature. It must've been at least 8 feet tall, though right now it was crouching low to get a better look at you. Its waist was deathly thin, its skin gripping around its ribcage. Despite its humanoid shape, its head was completely foreign. Its face took the form of a deer’s skull, with a set of antlers coming from atop its head. Most apparent of all was a pair of dimly lit red eyes...
There was no way this was some kind of prank. It would take a level of coordination that you knew your friends couldn't pull off. You were certain you were looking at that beast of legend the locals talked about so much. You were face to face with the Wendigo.
It let out another low growl. You desperately wanted to move, but fear had paralyzed you. It moved with surprising grace, leaning its head forward to give you an almost curious look. “A-are you gonna eat me or what?” you barely managed to whimper out. The creature simply stared into your eyes for a moment before… shaking its head.
“Wh…what?” you gawked in disbelief, “Can you… understand me?” The creature slowly moved its head up and down. You laughed. How else were you supposed to react? Not only had you just met a supernatural creature, it wasn't trying to kill you.
“So… you can't talk, but you can- okay, there aren't any mushrooms in this forest that can mess me up, right?” The creature nonchalantly shrugged in response, backing up slightly and looking around before looking back at you. “That… isn't helpful,” you sighed. Suddenly, the creature grabbed your ankles.
“Hey! What're you-” it pulled your waist out from under you, dirtying up your jeans as it began to sniff you all over. You giggled and kicked your feet, trying to tuck your neck away as the creature smelled you, “Heheheh- h-hey! Cut that out! That tickles-” What started as short sniffs turned into a deep inhale. The creature lifted its head back a bit, as if relishing in your scent before leaning forward again as it pulled your waist closer to… his.
Yep, it was very apparent now that this was a boy. There was a massive piece of evidence now throbbing between his legs to prove it. You blushed at the sight before quickly looking back up the monster, “Y-you’re joking. Awwww great, you're telling me I got a HORNY forest monster?!” The Wendigo responded by bringing his hands to your hips, grasping them with shocking gentleness as he purred in your ear. The worst part was, the whole thing was turning you on.
The beast brayed with what sounded like slight desperation, but oddly enough, he wasn't advancing things any further. The tip of his fat monster cock was already starting to ooze with precum, but something was holding him back. You looked up to see the Wendigo was staring you down, almost as if he wanted something…
“N-no way- are you asking me for my consent?” you spoke in utter shock. The creature simply groaned, letting out a short and frustrated huff before nodding. “Okay, first of all. I don't appreciate your sass. Second- hey!” The creature had gently begun dragging the tip of its tongue from your collarbone to your jawline, eliciting a slight moan, much to your embarrassment. The beast’s chest rumbled and jumped, a deep, powerful laugh coming from behind its exposed jaw. “H-hey. None of this is funny. Okay mister? You need to- hhhhah…” The Wendigo lightly flicked its tongue along your neck as its knee pressed up between your legs. You tried to close them, but the monster responded by grabbing your knees with his hands and easily prying them open. The monster growled at you again, refusing to take things any further.
You took a moment to catch your breath and think. Maybe this creature could help you? It certainly didn't seem like anything in the forest wanted to mess with it. Even so, you felt you were perfectly capable of handling things on your own. You still liked your little plan with the helicopter and the rocks.
No, there was something else now. Morbid curiosity. You were curious as to what it would be like to let this thing fuck you. The monster certainly seemed like he had the capacity to be gentle…
“O-okay… I-I'll let you do it… but you have to follow my instructions. No funny business, g-got it?” the monster slowly nodded in understanding, backing off slightly and bowing his head.
“Okay… u-uhm… do you have a name?” the beast looked up at you before shaking its head. You found this to be strange. Maybe the legends had gotten some things wrong? Surely a former human had a name. “Hm… how about… Wendy?” you smiled sheepishly. It was an odd (and frankly slightly childish) name to give him, but he didn't seem to mind. “Alright…” you mumbled awkwardly, sitting in silence with the creature and not knowing exactly what to do next.
Thankfully, Wendy seemed to be willing to take some initiative. He leaned forward and began grinding his knee up to your crotch again. You let yourself breathe freely now, relaxing as he brought a hand up to your chest and began to massage one of your breasts. “You seem- nnghh- awfully experienced for a forest monster. N-not that I've ever fucked one before. This is definitely- hah- a first for me,” you tried to speak evenly between your little mewls of pleasure, as you let the beast start to help you out of your clothes.
Despite his massive hands, Wendy was extraordinarily careful with you, helping to make sure you didn't tear any of your clothes. He even knew how to undo your bra. As you laid on your now bare back in the cool forest grass, you blushed as the creature took a moment to look you over once more. “Do you like what you see?” you nervously squeaked out. Wendy chuckled and gave you a slight nod, before bringing his hand down between your legs.
He started with a gentle touch, slowly slipping his fingers up your folds before finding your clit. You whimpered and seized up a bit from how sensitive you were and he quickly pulled his hand away, purring in your ear as if to reassure you and giving you a small lick on the cheek before trying again. He went even slower this time, and when he found the sweet spot again he simply held his middle and ring finger there. You took a moment to breathe. It all felt so fast paced, but the more you looked at Wendy, the more you wanted him to fuck you. It was the dirtiness of it all that was really getting to you, allowing this savage beast to have his way with you. You heard a questioning grunt come from him, and you nodded in response, “Yes, I'm ready. J-just start slow…”
Wendy did exactly as you wished, rubbing slowly as he began to place little licks along your cheek and neck again. This seemed to be his way of kissing you, since he didn't have any lips. He grumbled something unintelligible in your ear again, nuzzling his bony face up to yours in an affectionate manner. It was difficult to get a read on his face, since he couldn't exactly make facial expressions either, but his body language certainly implied that he was into you. If he was a human once, you reckoned it somewhat made sense. If anything, it explained why he was so pent up.
He began to move his fingers a little faster now, and you were both settling into a steady rhythm. The creature leaned in closer to you, grunting with arousal and letting out hot breaths of air. He was surprisingly gentle for such a large thing. You could feel yourself melting to his touch, relaxing your muscles as he silently guided you closer and closer to finishing.
“F-fuck Wendy- whoever taught you knew what they were doing- h-hahh-” you could barely speak between the relaxing waves of pleasure, “You're gonna make me cum..” Wendy wasn't speeding up anymore. As you bucked your hips from the pleasure, he simply grabbed you and held you in place, forcing you to hold still and take what he was giving you. It was almost terrifying how easily he could manhandle you. Despite his somewhat slender and unnatural appearance, he was leaps and bounds stronger than anyone you had ever been with before. “F-fuck Wendy! Nngh!-” you squirmed and moaned in ecstacy as you approached your peak, hearing the beast on top of you let out a gentle groan of satisfaction as your orgasm finally arrived. Your entire body shuddered with delight, your head lolling back as you took a moment to recover…
But Wendy wasn't done with you yet.
Now he had slipped lower on your body, prodding your entrance with his bony snout and braying something you couldn't understand. He took a moment to sniff you, before deeply inhaling and embracing your scent. “Hey!” you tried to scoot back, but he easily pulled you back closer, reaching down with his other hand and grasping his massive cock. You didn't know if you'd even be able to handle the thing, but Wendy seemed to have other ideas in mind.
That was when you felt his tongue starting to push inside of you. It was slick and warm with his saliva, and you gasped with surprise at the feeling of it. “Slowly, please,” you squeaked as you felt like you were starting to be stretched. Wendy did as you asked, but he certainly wasn't stopping. He buried his unnaturally long tongue deeper and deeper inside of your pussy, wiggling it around slightly to get a feel for you. It wasn't as thick as his cock was, so it felt a lot easier to handle.
He then began to make his tongue ripple. It felt a bit odd at first, but each ripple pushed right up into your g-spot, and you were quickly finding that you liked it. It was a completely unique sensation that you had never experienced before, but in a way it made sense. Having a long, powerful, dexterous tongue probably helped to break down food, since chewing is difficult to do without a mouth to hold all of that food in. Wendy had begun to stroke himself faster, groaning with delight at your flavor as he tasted your insides.
You tried to match his rhythm with your hips, grinding along with him so that he pushed into your g-spot a little harder. He settled his weight comfortably into his knees, freeing a hand from supporting his weight to hold onto yours. His thumb lovingly rubbed the back of your hand, and you could already feel yourself building up to another orgasm. “Damnit Wendy- f-fUCK you shouldn't be this good- you're gonna make me cum again!” you spoke with a pleasure riddled tone, but you knew it wasn't just skill that was getting you so turned on. You had never done something so deviant before. A one night stand was already a new experience (if you could even call this a one night stand) but you weren't just getting busy with some random guy. You were getting busy with-
“H-HAHH!!” your thoughts were interrupted as you got swept up in an orgasm. Your body shivered and shook as Wendy worked you right back into place with his strength, quickly yet smoothly easing off from working his tongue before gently retracting it from inside you.
You took a moment to breathe, and as you did, the beast slowly clambered his way back to being fully on top of you. You could see his tip was leaking with pre, to the point that a droplet dripped right onto your bare cunt. “W-wait,” you thought out loud, “This couldn't get me pregnant, could it?” Wendy didn't respond. “W-wendy?” you tried to reason with him, “Hey, y-you said you would listen to me, right? Wendy?!” You felt his strong grip on your thigh as he laid his cock out on your stomach, showing you with a seemingly amused expression just how deep inside you he would be going. You gulped nervously, whimpering in terror, “Please.. j-just don't hurt me…”
Wendy's hand then came up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he leaned forward and purred into your ear. You knew he was trying to comfort you, but the fear of pregnancy was still a very real thing.
But… fuck. Wouldn't it be hot to just let this beast have his way? You could just imagine the feeling of him dumping his hot, sticky load inside of you, fertilizing your womb with his seed. You could live a simple life out here in the woods. There would be no more societal pressures or worries. All you'd have to do was take monster dick and learn to live this new life. It didn't seem so bad the more you thought of it…
Wendy interrupted your thoughts once more with a gentle little lick on your cheek, followed by the feeling of his tip pressing up to your folds. He brayed with what sounded like desperation, the muscles in his free hand tensing as he closed it into a fist. He was struggling to control himself.
“Hey, shhhh…” you took Wendy's hand in yours, looking up at him with a gentle yet sheepish smile before saying, “Give it to me… pl-please…”
For a moment you both were locked in that moment, gazing into each other's eyes. Wendy let out a long winded exhale, as if he had been holding his breath. Then, with a deep throated growl, he began to push into you.
You winced. It hurt. You had expected it considering his size. But it also wasn't as bad as you had expected. You realized that him using his tongue earlier had not only felt amazing, but it had also primed you to take his cock instead of just going with that first. You assumed it was purposeful anyway. Reading the creature's thoughts was anything but easy.
He started with small thrusts, with each push stretching you a little more and allowing him to go a little deeper. He took his time, encouraging you with small “kisses” and gentle touches until he was finally fully submerged inside of you. You were soaking wet at this point, your slick fluids lathering up Wendy's dick as he began to get more assertive. He wrapped his arms under yours and held onto your shoulders, and you wrapped your arms around him to start to dig your nails into his back. “Oh god- W-wendyyyy,” you groaned in ecstacy, “You're sooooo big… mnngfff. Ddddon't stooop.” You were beginning to slur your words, your brain shutting down and going foggy as Wendy began to pick up his pace. Now that you had adjusted, his cock felt absolutely amazing. You never knew before that there was so much space inside of you to stimulate.
It didn't help that Wendy was getting more and more vocal with each thrust. What had started as gentle purrs and groans had turned into louder and louder animalistic roars, something like a mixture between a human and a deer. He certainly wasn't ashamed to speak his mind, grunting and growling unintelligible things in your ear that you could only assume was his way to dirty talking. Without context it might have even been comedic, but in this moment it felt all the more attractive to hear him desperately trying to communicate how turned on he was, and it wasn't helping that each thrust was bringing you closer and closer to the brink. You looked in Wendy's eyes. He was getting close too. You could just feel it.
You then wrapped your legs around him, refusing to let him pull out, even if he had been planning on it. You couldn't let this desire go now. You needed to feel him cum in you. “That's right. Fucking christ- pleeease cum inside me! Fill me. Fire that potent sticky load inside my fertile little womb and get me pregnant. I want it- no- I need it, so give it to me big boy! Knock me the fuck up!”
Wendy let out a final triumphant howl as you squealed with overwhelming pleasure. He pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could as you both reached your climaxes. It was timing made into perfection. Of course you were cumming at the same time. Your bodies were made for one another. That's what made doing something so wrong feel so right. You could actually feel his cock throb and pulse with each rope of semen that shot out from his tip, filling your guts more and more. It felt satisfyingly heavenly, like you were comfortably full from a full course meal…
He then slumped forward, nearly crushing you before barely catching himself. He huffed with exhaustion, his eyes blinking as if he was dazed. He didn't pull out, keeping his cum plugged up inside you as he began to lay himself down with you at his side. You allowed your bodies to wrap around one another's, the cool grass making for a surprisingly comfortable bed as Wendy cuddled you close. You snuggled up to his furry chest, listening to his lungs rhythmically fill and empty themselves of air.
You could feel your eyes starting to flutter. This felt oddly comfortable. The bright moon above was sheltered from your eyes by Wendy's arm, and he protectively held you close. Maybe the plan with the helicopter could wait a while. Maybe everything had worked out just fine already. Maybe you were exactly where you needed to be…
Whew! This one took me a while. It was my longest and most arduous project here yet. I'm taking a much deserved break. Expect shorter stuff for the time being. If you've read this far, I'm genuinely honored. To even reach one person and give them something to enjoy like this is enough to make it all worth it. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3
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fiapartridge · 2 months
Note
💌can I suggest this with Jack Hughes? (Could really use maybe a comfort as reader has a panic attack?)
jack hughes x fem!reader
warning(s): panic attack, feeling suffocated
summary: waiting for jack after electric games had never been this hard before...
fia's notes 💌: hii! i've never written about panic attacks so i hope i wrote it as accurately as i could've. these things are different for everyone, so i just tried to write from my own experiences with them. if you get triggered by these things, maybe skip out on this one <3
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The Prudential Center was alive with the echoes of the final horn, the crowd erupting into a thunderous roar as the game reached its end. Amidst the jubilation, you stood in the lobby, your heart racing with a different kind of intensity. You scanned the crowd anxiously, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of fans.
You had always met Jack near the locker room after games, but this time, it felt packed and crowded. You felt suffocated and tossed around like a meaningless entity. 
As the noise engulfed you, panic tightened its grip around your heart. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, your chest constricting with each passing moment. You stumbled, your legs threatening to give out as the world spun around you. Pushing through heavy bodies and shouting fans, you held your shaking hands against a cool wall, turning around and sliding your back against it and down to the ground.
You couldn’t see straight, your eyes were clouded with tears, and your chest couldn’t stop heaving. It felt like a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. Without looking up, you heard a worried voice from above. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Nico’s voice ripped through the chaos. He bent down a little ways away from you, too scared to touch you in fear of making things worse. “Hey!” he yelled at someone you couldn’t make out. “Go get Jack right now!”
You pulled your knees tight to your chest, your forehead resting against them as you shook uncontrollably, your sobs growing more intensely. You gasped for breath, reaching for air like it was some sort of reward that you had to compete for. Still shaking and trying to calm down your body, not wanting to make a bigger scene than you already were, you didn’t notice the large hand gently placed on your knee. He sat close but not too close that you would be overwhelmed.
"It's okay, you’re okay, Y/N,” he spoke softly. "You're safe. You’re with me—Jack," he whispered, his voice a beacon of calm in the chaos of the lobby. "I'm here with you. Just focus on my voice, okay? You're okay."
Hearing his name was like seeing a small island in a raging storm. It was there, and you felt a moment of peace, but the storm was still pelting down on you as you clung to him desperately, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his hoodie as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "I-I can't... I can't breathe," you panicked.
Jack held you gently, murmuring words of reassurance as he stroked your hair in soothing circles. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “Can you breathe with me?” he asked, not getting a response back. These moments always scared Jack, and you were always scared that these episodes would be too much for him; that he would leave you because of it, but that’s not why he was scared. He was scared that he couldn’t get you out of it; that he wasn’t what you needed. Boyfriends were meant to be protectors, they were meant to keep you safe, but if he couldn’t do that, then what good was he? Despite these fears, he was always the only one that could bring you back to shore. “Come on, baby. Can you breathe with me?”
You nodded weakly, trying to focus on Jack's voice. The lobby was almost cleared out by now, just a couple stragglers left, watching the scene from a distance. The moment was sure to be blasted on the internet later, but that was the least of your problems right now. Right now, you just had to get through this, one step at a time. 
With each shaky inhale, you attempted to match the rhythm of his breathing, drawing in air in sync with him. "That's it," Jack encouraged. "Just focus on your breath. In... and out...You're safe," he whispered again. “You’re with me. You always have me.”
Slowly, gradually, the frantic pace of your breathing began to ease, the tightness in your chest loosening as you followed Jack's lead. His presence beside you was a comfort, grounding you in reality amidst the whirlwind of panic threatening to consume you.
As you continued to breathe together, the panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of calm born from the safety of Jack's embrace. You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you sought refuge from the storm raging within your mind.
"Better?" Jack asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he gently brushed a stray tear from your cheek.
You nodded, your breathing steadier now, though your heart still raced with the lingering effects of the panic attack. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.
Jack leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Don’t thank me. I'm always here for you," he murmured.
Your lips curled up softly, your head resting against his chest as he pulled you in closer. Despite it all; despite the fears and the panic and the intensity, you were never alone. You always had Jack.
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onskepa · 9 months
Note
You know the Mother Moat X reader I requested a while back?
Could you please make one of Ronal X adopted human daughter reader?
Random: (probably not accurate)
Ao'nung: Look at them, they're all freaks!
Y/n: ...Brother, am I a freak too?
Ao'nung: That's different. You're my sister. I don't care if you're a human. You're an exception-
-Death
Okie dokie! I tried my best not to make it nearly identical to Stxeli so I did some change for this one. Hope you all enjoy this one!
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Pahem
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"The sea gives, and the sea takes"
That is the motto, the rule, the statement, the saying in amongst the reef clans. It is the cycle and the rule of the ocean. It is beautiful as is deadly.
To receive, you must give.
Ronal and Tonowari. The Olo'eyktan and Tsahik of their clan has given so much to the sea. To Eywa. They expect nothing in return only to live in their peaceful island.
Their hard work and dedication were noticed. And Eywa believes it was time to give them something special.
It was another day in the island. Everyone is doing their duties, others relaxing among the beach, children playing around. It was just another day.
Except for Ronal. As Tsahik, it is her duty to hold her connection with Eywa and to interpret whatever Eywa is telling her. And today, ever since she opened her eyes to a new day, she cant help but feeling something big is going to happen. Yet cant seem to know if it will be a good thing, or a bad thing.
At the same time, something small was passing the walls that protects the island, it was making its way to beach.
Word quickly spread of an odd floating object getting closer to the beach. Many gathered to see what it was, it even caught the attention of ronal and tonowari.
Both were at the fore front of the gathering crowd, warriors close should the item be seen as a threat. But as the item got closer, the less threatening it looked.
The item in question was made of demon metal. Round and reflective. Ronal felt a pull to the item and went to get closer. Tonowari was right behind her making sure she was safe.
All it took was a touch of the item and the top slid back to reveal...
A human baby girl.
Ronal was shocked and confused. What is a human child doing this far at sea? As far as Ronal remembers, what humans remain have settled with the forest na'vi. And that is days away from where they are.
The human child in question was sleeping peacefully. Only little snores escaped her tiny lips. Gently picked up the child into her arms, the child snuggled against ronal's chest.
Tonowari looked down at the child, feeling just as confused. "A human child? Where are the others?" He looks back at the sea, seeing no ships or other form of demon aircraft.
Ronal looks down at the sleeping child as she answers, "I am not sure...but she was out there all alone. No mother, no father....tonowari, what if they left her to die?" the more she questions the girls arrival, the more scared she thinks about it.
The sea is large, and full of dangerous things. Anything at anytime something could have harmed the child. And no one would have known.
Tonowari holds ronal as reassurance. "Perhaps it was the will of Eywa that protected the child. To bring her to us". It made sense in ronal's mind. All day she couldnt shake the odd feeling. And now she knows why. Eywa has guided the lost child to them. To be found.
Taking in the child was a choice that took time for the people to adjust. Tonowari and Ronal took in the little baby as their own. Naming her Pahem.
And Pahem was a dear treasure to Tonowari and Ronal. While small, she has a big personality. Would laugh and smile a lot, and even got along so well with ao'nung and tsireya!
Both children loved their new little sister and would play games with pahem at the center. Like any child, pahem was no different in crying or being fussy. All it takes is a small pile of seashells or having her ilu toy and she is calm as a clam.
Pahem fitted well into the family. Ronal felt like she birthed Pahem, that she was there since day one. However, time to time, Ronal would look back at the sea and wonder where she came from. Or if her original mother lost her at some point. But Ronal tries her best not to think too much on it.
As time goes on, Pahem began to show interest in anything that has to do with physical activity. Swimming of course is essential to pahem. Has become an excellent diver and can hold her breath for a long time. An astounding professional at such a young age.
She even began to teach the young children and has the patient of infinite stars. She was calm, sweet, but isn't afraid to stand her ground.
Pahem loves her siblings, but, she mostly views ao'nung in high regards. She will follow him more than she would with tsireya. Pahem would copy how he talks, walks, and even eat ao'nung's favorite foods, pahem would try to style her hair like ao'nung.
Ao'nung felt very happy and proud that his little sister would look up to him. So he tries his best to be a good example for her.
Tsireya on the other hand, loves and adores her cute little sister. Would style pahem's long hair into different ways and put cute little décor. Would also enjoy sister time with pahem as much as she could.
Pahem has a soft side for tsireya as she cant handle her sisters cute blue eyes! Tsireya would also scold ao'nung for teaching pahem something that is rough or not lady like.
Rotxo has would tease pahem, often calling her "little nung" and would try to pull little pranks of her. He likes to spend some time with pahem and would show her some tricks of his own. Even share secrets of how to prank ao'nung really good.
Tonowari on the other hand, he is proud to have pahem in his life. She is very small but her heart beats like a tulkun. He would often train her to be a hunter like how she desires, to fight and to train to be the mightiest warrior the metkayina has ever seen. Of course not to push his child to the extreme since her stamina is lower than that of a na'vi her age.
Both ronal and tonowari love pahem for how independent she is for someone so young. Yet they cant help but feel protective of their little girl. So small and anything can hurt her. So when she goes out, there is always someone watching over her from a distance. Making sure no harm comes in her way.
Everything was fine. Everything was perfect.
Until the sully family came.
That day, ao'nung and rotxo took it upon themselves to see who arrived on their island. Them and many other clan members gather to see. Tsireya also came to see to see who arrived, and felt fluttery when one of the newcomers said "hey" to her.
Ronal and tonowari came and greeted jake sully and his family. When uturu was asked, ronal was the first to point out their flaws and distinct traits they have.
"they have demon blood!" She shouts for everyone as she holds one of the children's hands as they have an extra finger.
"mother wait!!" a voice was heard amongst the crowd. The people made way to show pahem. The sully family were very shocked to see a human living amongst the reef people.
"sister, not now" ao'nung stepped in front of pahem as means to stop her from getting closer to the outsiders.
"please brother" she smiles and went around him. "mother, you say they have demon blood, but they are not different from how I look. They have an extra finger, eyebrows, yet I have them too. Let them in mother, they look tired from a long journey" pahem pleaded.
Ronal took in her daughters words and held a silent conversation with her mate. After what felt like long minutes. Tonowari granted uturu. And the sully family were welcomed.
The first few weeks were awkward and odd as the sully family were trying to understand how a human was living in a na'vi clan without being outcasted or anything. And even more confusing as pahem is the chiefs daughter.
When their training took place, pahem became more of tuk's personal teacher as with tuk it took a lot more patience and using different form of teaching methods. Tuk became close to pahem quicker than her siblings and came to love her like a best friend.
the other sully children got to know pahem in different paste. Lo'ak was the slowest one to getting to know pahem as pahem was always with ao'nung. And lo'ak isnt so keen on getting along with the brat.
However one day, lo'ak was doing his own thing when he noticed ao'nung and his goons bullying kiri. A fight ensued making tonowari and jake having to confront the boys.
Lo'ak was angry when jake told him he had to apologize to ao'nung. "just why should I say sorry!? he called my sister a freak!". Pahem was hiding behind the tent when she heard what lo'ak said. Made her feel a bit disappointed towards ao'nung. Her super awesome big brother.
Later, when the sun was setting, ao'nung was sharpening his blade when he saw pahem sit in front of him. "That is a nasty bruise" she pointed out. Ao'nung huffed. "Its fine, doesn't hurt".
Pahem took a moment before sayings what she needed to say, "brother, am I a freak?". That made ao'nung stop at what he was doing and look into his sisters eyes. "What? no no, why would you ever think that?" he moves to sit beside her. Pahem rubs her arms and continues. "You called kiri and lo'ak a freak. Its not their fault for how they look like. They have similar features to what I have. And you called them a freak. How are they different from me brother?" she looks up at him, wanting to know the answer.
Ao'nung felt stuck. He gulped down his nervousness and tried his best to answer. "They are not us, they are not you. You are not a freak. You are my sister, a metkayina. You are one of us. Born and raised here. They dont belong here".
That answer didn't seem to satisfy pahem. "but isn't that the point? They came obviously knowing they have to change everything, leave behind all that they know. So clearly brother, they are struggling, yet they are learning. There is massive progress with them. And it is YOU who doesn't want to see the change! Metkayina or not, my blood is closer to them than it is closer to you. If you continue to bully them then I will get mad and....and.....!! I will hang out with lo'ak over YOU!".
When pahem said that, it felt like a newborn tulkun was laying on his chest. Air left his lungs, and unable to process the threat. Pahem? Leaving him over the baby tail freak? Never!
"ok ok, I promise! I wont bully lo'ak or anyone else of his family. I promise." he pleaded with pahem. "you promise promise?" pahem leaning in. Ao'nung nodded fast. That answer seemed to please pahem and smiles. "ok!" and she sat on his lap and began to chat like she didn't threaten him.
For the moment. All was well in pahem's life.
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Aaaaaaaaand that is all for this one! This was cute to write! Until next time! see ya!
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Pahem = Arrive
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daisies-daydreams · 11 months
Note
Hi! I hope you're having a good day. I wanted to ask if you could please write a fluffy/angsty scenario where Alejandro Vargas comforts his wife whose having anxiety about being a first-time mom? Thank you!!
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Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x Pregnant!Wife!Reader Category: Fluff/Angst Warnings: Mentions of Morning Sickness, Pregnancy
Word Count: 987
A/N: Hello! Thank you for your lovely request! I’m a sucker for domestic scenarios. 🥰 I apologize, my Spanish is pretty rusty but I tried to be as accurate as possible. I hope you enjoy!
Warm sunlight poured over your face and cascaded down the soft fabric of your maternity dress. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. You swayed back and forth in your rocking chair while rubbing your swollen belly. The deck creaked below you with each sway of the chair. Your eyes snapped open when you felt a small kick below your palm.
“Hello, little one,” you whispered with a smile. Another kick reverberated against your hand as if they were answering. You grinned as you continued to rub your abdomen, taking in the sound of the summer breeze rustling the nearby trees. Heavy footsteps thudded behind you. You turned your head to see Alejandro smiling warmly. He carried two glasses of horchata in his large hands. You returned his gentle expression as you took the beverage in your hands. He kissed your lips softly before sliding into the chair next to yours.
“¿Cómo te sientes hoy, cariño?” he asked sweetly. You sighed, taking a small sip of your drink. Notes of cinnamon and vanilla coated your tongue, blending pleasantly before you swallowed.
“Estoy muy cansada,” you replied with a weak laugh. “It felt like I didn’t get any sleep at all last night,” you continued, eyes watching the hummingbirds flick back and forth around the nectar-filled feeder that hung nearby. Alejandro nodded, recalling how he helped you wash your hair after you threw up several times throughout the night. He set his drink down on the side table and took your hand in his, stroking your knuckles with his thumb.
“Lo siento, mi amor,” he apologized. You smiled at him as he massaged the back of your hand.
“Thank you, Ale,” you sighed. He nodded. Your heart melted when he brought your hand up to his lips.
“I’m sorry it’s been so hard, mi corazón,” he whispered. You smiled, bringing his hand down to your tummy. He gasped when your baby kicked again, this time much harder. You winced at the harsh, internal impact. “Ay, te comportas,” Alejandro clicked his tongue playfully. You quietly laughed, shoulders bouncing before you took another slow sip of horchata. You smacked your lips, drawing out a heavy sigh as a hummingbird drew closer to you. You held your breath as its wings buzzed quietly, its small, emerald head tilting as it observed you. The bird’s ruby throat puffed out before it quickly zipped away into a nearby tree.
“Magnífico,” Alejandro murmured, his lips cracked into a wonder-struck grin. You nodded, watching as more of the tiny birds dipped and swerved around. He squeezed your hand, drawing your eyes to him. “(Y/N)…I want you to know that I’m so amazed by you,” he breathed. You tilted your head. He clasped his other hand above yours, his thumb still stroking your soft palm. “You’ve been so strong through all of this, mi vida. I know this is our very first child, and-” his words halted when he saw tears well in your eyes.
“¿Cariño?¿Qué te pasa?” he asked, his brows knitting together as he wiped a tear that rolled down your cheek. You released a shaky sigh as you sobbed, the waterfalls ceaselessly pouring from your eyes. Alejandro frowned, patiently waiting for your response.
“What if…What if I’m not ready, Ale?” you cried. Your husband reached over, taking your cup from you and placing it next to his.
“Not ready for what, (Y/N)? To be a mother?” he asked. You nodded and sniffed. He hummed, his hands coming up again to wipe the wet stains on your face. “Ven aquí, bebé,” he murmured softly while patting his thigh. You wiped your eyes before he helped you onto his lap. You sat on his sturdy thighs, his hand bracing the outside of your leg. Your face crashed into his shoulder. He stroked your back and whispered sweet words as you soaked his shirt with your tears.
“I’m so scared,” you confessed with a shaky breath. Alejandro pulled back to look at you, his eyes studying your worn features. “Th-There’s just so many unknowns. What if the baby doesn’t latch right away? What if something happens in the middle of the night? When I’m not around?” you rambled. You swallowed a lump in your throat, your husband’s eyes steady on you. “What if I…I just can’t do it,” you shook. Alejandro was silent, his hand pressing on the small of your back. Your bottom lip trembled, pain and exhaustion ricocheting through every bone in your body.
“Hey, look at me,” he commanded gently. You slowly tilted your head up, his hand on your thigh coming up to cup your chin. You blushed as he captured your lips in a deep kiss. You melted into the tender embrace, your hands coming up to stroke up his chest. Alejandro’s thumb caressed your chin before he pulled away. “Cariño, this will be a first for both of us. Will we make mistakes? Sí, all parents do,” he said firmly. You sighed, your body sinking into his hold. “I believe in you, (Y/N)-I believe in us. And we’re going to raise this baby the best we can,” Alejandro said with a sturdy resolution. Your frown slowly shifted into a small grin. You nodded.
“Te amo, mi corazón,” Alejandro whispered gently, his words falling over you like the calming breeze. You laughed quietly, his hand coming up to swipe at the small waterfalls cascading down your weary face.
“Te amo, Ale,” you said, nuzzling your cheek against his. You felt him smile at his nickname, his arms coming to squeeze you tightly as he planted small kisses over your face. Both of you remained seated on your porch, holding each other tenderly. You soon nodded off in his arms, head rolling into his chest. Alejandro smiled, brushing hair out of your face before he too slipped into an afternoon nap.
————
Thank you for reading! ❤️
Translations:
¿Cómo te sientes hoy, cariño? - How are you doing today, honey?
Estoy muy cansada - I’m very tired.
Lo siento, mi amor - I’m sorry, my love.
Mi corazón - My heart
Ay, te comportas - Hey, behave yourself.
Mi vida - My life.
Magnífico - Magnificent
¿Cariño?¿Qué te pasa? - Honey? What’s wrong?
Ven aquí, bebé - Come here, baby.
Sí - Yes
Te amo - I love you.
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yourlocaltreesimp · 1 month
Note
Could you maybe write the chain + koridai and courage (and maybe mask) reacting to a guide with self harm scars.
I know it's a tall order and a bit of a controversial ask but it would make this former self harmer quite happy. And if not thanks for taking the time to read.
^⁠_⁠^. ^⁠_⁠^. ^⁠_⁠^ ^⁠_⁠^
Only wrote Courage, Koridai and Mask, but i would definitely expand this to the rest of the chain if that’s what y’all would like! Please please let me know if any part of this is insensitive or tone deaf.
@triplecatattack come get your boys.
tw: self harm/self harm scars, familial abuse mentioned, sexual abuse loosely implied, physical abuse mentioned
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
The scars never truly stopped hurting. The blood would stop, a scab would form, the scar wouldn’t be as tender, but it still hurt to look at. It didn’t matter whether it was from the perspective of a picture or the reflection in the mirror— it didn’t change the mournful cry in your chest that always threatened to bubble out.
Still, you sat with your tunic looped through your forearms while your eyes remained caught on the old wounds. There were days they were easier to ignore. Days it didn’t matter who you were at your worst. But in the days you find yourself reminded that the you of the past lives living within the you of the present, they’re a little harder to leave be. It’s a just little harder to not wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to console that aching bit of yourself.
At some point, each memory finds its way swimming to the surface all at once. It’s uncanny, how accurately the mind can recreate the sensations of memories and pain it once tried so hard to surpress. All at once you’re reminded how it feels to hold your life in your hands, your nerves suddenly back to raw and frightened. To be left with only your sorrows and the hope to carry through. That primal part of your mind, in its panic, telling you to hide as the door to your inn room opened. It urges you to cover your wounds— lest someone see the most fragile parts of you and decides they are simply too much.
Courage’s hands ached with the heavy bags of equipment and boxes the inn keeper had requested he help with. A day's worth of walking up and down stairs and monotonous lifting meant that he’d gotten quite… grimey. But despite the hard work, even he could admit, the nicer room and sauna were perks worth his work.
Sure, he was no smart man. There weren’t any schools for miles around, and even then he doubted his family would have the money to spend his and his brothers’ education.
But for what he lacked in scholarship, he made up for in strength. Not in the simple manner of labouring like his father— no. He was proven to be far, far beyond that. He could finally fight back.
To the world and its cruelty.
To his father and his drunken swings.
To his brothers and their torment.
To evil as it was.
He counted it as odd— the glassy look of your eyes as you stared at the mirror. But as soon as your trance was disturbed, it was broken. You offered a small, gentle smile to him in your reflection as you fiddled with the towel around your shoulders. You seemed ok, not perfectly content, but nothing that raised alarm bells. Your worries tugged at his nerves, but the last thing he’d ever choose to be towards you is overbearing.
He loved that small upturn of your lips, something so soft that it couldn’t be fabricated (such a detail he learned during his time as a knight, smiling is the mask of any good wealthy person). He had been so out of touch with genuine endearment during his time as a decorated knight, flirting with whichever noblewoman draped herself over his shoulder, that he wouldn’t be all too surprised if he’d fallen head over heels for you right then and there. He’d lived his life in a daze up until the, playing to his strengths within the court. He’d almost forgotten such a sense of genuine attraction.
He’d made it a point after you to not flirt with you— or not in the same manner he did with the noble folk of the court. You deserved far more grace and honour than lewd innuendos and wandering hands. Someone who stirred such a pure sense of hopeless romance in a heart as beaten as his deserved only his best treatment.
He gathered his swimwear and led you down the halls to their hot springs, keeping close watch for any prying eyes or wandering hands that may find you as their target. His most beloved deserved his protection. It didn’t matter if his blade had shattered and his bones had splintered, he’d fight to his dying breath if it meant keeping you safe.
Which is why the sobs from the adjacent row changing rooms were so concerning.
“My love?” He knocked softly on the door, not wishing to escalate the situation if it didn't call for it.
“Are you alright?” The weak hiccups and strained breaths only increased. His brow furrowed as he felt his heart squirm beneath his ribs.
“Dearest, what’s wrong?” There were only a few small shuffles before the lock clicked open. You looked at him through the crack with a level of concern that mirrored ashamed. He feels the way his face softens and he has to try and stop his hand from reaching towards you. Your hands cover your arms as your shoulders curl inward to appear small and shrunken.
“I-“ You choke on the syllable as you force words out, “I look horrible” You shuddered as you exhaled, the sound morphing back into your cries.
He can, at first, only manage to hold you as you cry. If he cannot rid the pain from you immediately, he can at least kiss each tear so they’re welcome. He would not let you believe your emotions are anything but beautiful. Because they are an extension of you and your life. How could anything of you not be beautiful?
When he gives you space he can see the irritation around the scars, scratch marks overlaying the fragile skin. Blood pokes through in a few of the less healed areas, and all at once he gets it. He nods wordlessly, embracing you with his own scarred arms.
“You’re so beautiful” His voice is filled with such awe and splendour you can’t even consider if they’re anything aside from pure candor.
“All of you.” His lips press against the inside of your wrists, right where your veins are visible.
“And you’re so sweet” He speaks into your skin as he works his way toward your elbow. Through his lashes you can see him looking up at you as he snickers at his own joke.
“And My, how I'm so lucky to love you.” He kisses where your scars end before diving back up to capture your lips.
You two aren’t so different, he thinks. You suffer similar demons. But if there’s anything that he can do to ward them off, it’s tell you all the things you make him feel. That life is worth living. That people care about you. That it’s ok to cry. That you’re worthy of love— in all its facets and forms.
۵♡۵
If there was any way to describe the way Koridai would present his affections to you, it would be through finery.
Many say that most people choose to interact with the world in a similar manner to the way they wished the world would treat them. He was no such exception.
Sure, while he certainly was held to a standard of respect and dignity, he wasn’t as much a fool as he pretended. He could tell that he was, no matter how much heroics he did, an outsider. Where we saw his livelihood spent protecting them, they saw a jester of sorts.
His service to them was expected.
There were days he wished that he were born into that life. That he could understand their intricacies when interacting and that perhaps, with prestige he could prove himself more than just a performer.
He wished he had such finery as a good and simple life. But, he could not so simply provide that to himself. He had not the money nor the means. The wealthy wanted their entertainment and it wasn’t easy to leave them unsated.
Where he could not provide for himself, however, he provided to you. Full meals, fine jewellery and clothing… his pockets were lined, but he’d empty them for you. The shine in your eyes as you opened a gift from him was far better than any rupee.
It had taken an only slightly embarrassing amount of time to get your ring size discretely and find a jeweller he thought fit for the job.
Even then, there came the incredibly precise matter of picking out a style for both yours and his own engagement ring. The styles had to complement one another without forgoing the practicality of something that would be worn on one’s hands. Not too fragile nor bulky, not overly simplistic nor egregiously bold- You get the deal.
Then, obviously, came the matter of finding a wizard to enchant the ring (because of course it needed enchantments) for which was a task he found to be needlessly difficult. But with careful management and months spent stealing books from the castle’s library, a wizard was found and an inn booked and the travel started.
He didn’t want to leave you in the room while he added the final touches to the rings, but he’d be damned if he didn’t propose to the culmination of his joy at the perfect place. So he left you to ‘get ready’ as he hiked up a comically large mountain towards a tower surrounded by swirling clouds and crackling lightning.
Some six or seven odd hours later, he was back down said mountain and incredibly fortunate to see both the sun and his sun again. He was light on his feet, gliding through the flow of people with an unfamiliar grace. He’d gotten a few odd stares regarding his soaked clothes and dopey grin, but it didn’t matter to him. It didn’t matter so long as it was the same smile you kiss before bed.
Now, it’s not that he was expecting any sense of divine perfection when he opened the door. You already embodied that to him, no matter if you walked the span of the world or fell down a cliff.
But it was concerning to see you crying.
It was more so to see how you tried so hard to cover it up.
His smile was wiped off his face as he moved with the same speed as before to your side. His hands cradled both of your shoulders in an attempt to block out whatever harmed you. But of course, he cannot easily block out what’s already inside.
“Hey hey hey- what’s wrong, pretty?” His voice must’ve been around as fragile as you felt, your head shaking no as you tried to pull back. He retreated slightly, granting you space if that’s what you wanted.
“D- I- Don’t. I’m not-“ You could hardly cough up the words. He reminded himself to breathe, forcing shaky lungs to draw breath.
“Not ok? Tell me what’s wrong lovely, I want to help” There was some crazed fear in the way you looked at him, like you’d been caught in some trap. Foxes and the like in similar situations would knaw their legs off if it meant escaping.
He hopes you know there’s alternative options.
He can save you too, if you’d let him.
“How could you say I'm beautiful when I look like this?” Your voice is hoarse. Instinctively, he goes to grab a glass of water, but he freezes in the motion. He swivelled to look back at you as you shrank away, your hands haphazardly moving to cover patches of cut skin.
“My love-“ He doesn’t quite intend for the way his own voice sounds strangled, but he never intended for you to be in pain. Even if it were from before he could’ve helped you, he could only wish that in the fire you’d know you wouldn’t be condemned to suffer alone. Not so long as he’d be there to hold you as you cried and begged for forgiveness from a sin you didn’t commit. Not if he were there to kiss every inch of skin if it helped with your discomfort.
Not so long as he loved you.
Not so long as he breathed.
۵♡۵
Bonus!
The door opened too quickly for you to tug your tunic back on. Much to your relief, you were only met with the eyes of the youngest hero. You flinched slightly in shock before settling back down where you sat.
He haphazardly climbed up onto the bed to sit by your side as you continued to get ready for another long day fighting. Your shoulders only ached familiarly as you tugged on your pack.
“Ready Kiddo?” He replied only with a nod and a grin lacking a few teeth.
It wasn’t until well past noon that you could find a moment to sit down and eat. You savoured the cold breeze as it ruffled the grasses and trees. You did, admittedly, savour it less when it covered the sound of Mask creeping up. Smaller hands seized your tired shoulders in an attempt to tackle you. His ambush was ultimately unsuccessful, warranting him air jail. He crossed his arms in unamusement before turning his attention to the handful of yellow blooms in his right hand.
“And what exactly are those for, mister? Poisoning?” You asked, bemused at his little smirk. He shook his head, extending them out to you.
“For me?” He nodded enthusiastically. “Why thank you, my knight”
“For your injuries.” His tiny voice corrected.
“Injuries?” You looked down to double check that you weren’t, in fact, bleeding.
“Your arms. They’re scarring.” He stared at you blankly. Your arms? Oh. That makes a little more sense now.
“That’s right, I forgot” You treasured the bright smile on his face, a sight that didn’t often greet you.
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normspellsman · 1 year
Text
To the Ends of Pandora
Alternative Ending to “Secret”
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part one | part two
pairing: neteyam x fem!human!reader
genre: angst (at first), fluff, reunited at last, making up, & mentions of neteyam being a lovesick fool for the reader (as he should)
word count: 1k+
warning(s): talks of self isolation, suggestion of neytiri not approving relationship, talks/mentions of self deprecation, briefest mention of the thought of sex (you’ll miss it if you blink), & neteyam crying (mentioned)
word bank: sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, tsmukan — brother, tsmuke(s) — sister(s), ikran — winged creature that the na’vi use for flying & hunting, yawntu — loved one; lover; beloved person, neteyamur — nickname / term of endearment for neteyam, oel ngati kameie — i see you, & great mother / eywa — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in
request details: “hello <3 aw, i loved your neteyam x reader angst, it was so good! i was wondering if you could write some fluff too, like maybe neteyam x human!reader getting their happy ending and grow old together or something :(”
note: this was requested by anon! i’ll make sure to link this post to their request after i publish it. thank you for requesting! i hope this what you had in mind & enjoyed :)
You had spent weeks upon weeks holed up in your room after the departure of the Sullys and the kidnapping of your dear friend, Spider.
Norm and Max had repeatedly tried to coax you out of it, offering you your favorite types of food or one of their shower times in hopes of getting you out of your room for once.
Nothing had worked. You stayed in your room for hours on end and never left the comfort of it, except to go to the bathroom but even then, it was barely a handful of steps away from your bed that you wouldn’t consider it to be leaving your room.
The argument you and Neteyam had before he left had impacted you, severely.
It was hard to look back on the memories you two made during the short amount of time you were together. Even though he hurt you and broken your trust, you still found yourself yearning for him and wanting to forgive him for what he did. Neteyam wouldn’t keep just anything away from you. He had to have a good reason.
The letter he left at the foot of your door had explained everything to you, but you hadn’t read it until weeks after the Sully family left the Omatikaya clan.
Once you gathered enough strength to pull yourself out of bed and actually read the messy handwriting on the piece of paper, you began to cry but even then, you wasted all your tears during and after your argument with Neteyam. Your tear ducts could no longer produce any of the watery substance that you desperately craved to run down your cheeks.
You felt empty after reading it. You felt as if your world stopped on its axis and everything stood still.
He tried so hard to accurately portray how he felt about you. How much he loved you. How hard it was for him to keep the secret from you. How hard it was to hide you from his loved ones. How he didn’t care that you couldn’t make tshaleyu with him or even bare him children. How all he needed was you and that would be enough for all his lifetimes.
You were the only one that he could see and you let him walk away without saying goodbye. Without touching him last one time. Without kissing his soft lips one last time.
You wished you had just sucked up your pride and hurt and opened the door when he pleaded for you to the day he left.
What would’ve changed? What would’ve happened? Would he have stayed? Would you have gone with him? Did his parents know about your relationship? What would Neytiri think of it? Of you?
So many questions ran through your head during your weeks of self isolation and even after. It hurt to know that Neteyam was out there and you had no idea how he was doing or even what he was doing.
Did he find another? Someone who was actually Na’vi and a suitable partner for him?
No. It wouldn’t have made sense if he did. His letter was proof that you were going to be the only one he’d ever love the way that he did. So deep. So unique from the other types of love he experienced within his life.
Neteyam only ever experienced familial love. That kind of love he had with his Sa’nok, Sempul, Tsmukan, Tsmukes, Grandmother, and even Spider and the other human scientists that were allowed to stay on Pandora.
But the love he experienced with you was different. He experienced it more intensely. Neteyam often found himself thinking about you in the ways only a significant other should. Of how soft your lips felt. Of how your soft, delicate hand felt in his large rough ones. Of what it felt like to have your hands run through his braids and lightly pull at them. Of how it felt to have his head in between your legs as you called out his name in pleasure. Of how it would feel to have your chapped lips on different parts of his skin. His thoughts consumed him wholly. All he wanted was you and it will only ever be you.
You experienced the same thing as Neteyam. You could feel how deep your love and affections ran for him. It consumed your whole being.
That’s why when you saw the familiar earthy colors of a certain ikran, your whole world began to turn on its axis again after being still for so long.
The whole ground seemed to shake upon the arrival of Neteyam, him quickly dismounting his soul companion before rushing up to the lab doors and repeatedly knocking on the cold metal doors.
Neteyam would’ve never thought he’d miss the sight of the humans lab. He was never too fond of it even after getting together with you, but it was your home so it was going to be his too.
Butterflies swarmed within the teen boys stomach as he, not so patiently, waited for you to open the door so he could gather you into his arms and hold you close and tight to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and kissed whatever exposed skin he could. He couldn’t wait.
After spending months away from you and nearly dying at the hands of Quaritch’s soldiers that one fateful night, Neteyam had found a new vigor within himself to come back to you.
Shortly after his recovery, Neteyam had told both of his parents of his affections for you and how much he loved and cared for you. Jake had already had a suspicion, catching early on to his sons frequent sneaking out escapades. Neytiri was furious at first. How could he love someone of a different species? The ones that put his home and own species in so much danger and through so much grief? But, then again, Jake was human at one point and his soul always will be one. She too fell for a human at his age. Her anger towards her son, and ultimately you, faded away once she saw that look of pure love and adoration on his face when he talked about you. She couldn’t deny him of that. So, she bit her tongue and kept her thoughts to herself.
Both Neytiri and Jake had decided to allow Neteyam to leave a day earlier than the rest of the Sully family regarding their return to the Omatikaya. It wasn’t a permanent move, at least for now, so they still had the potential to go back to Awa’atlu. It was just a visit.
You would have forgotten your mask if it wasn’t for Max throwing one your way before you opened the only barrier that separated you and your lover.
Once you had secured the mask onto your face and waited a few seconds for it to begin working, you ripped open the door with as much strength you could muster, a huge smile on your face as you did so.
Neteyam didn’t hesitate to bring you into his arms and spin you around, yelling out in joy once he had you in his embrace after so long. You squealed out in delight as he gently spun the both of you around, your arms tightening around the expanse of his neck.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he exclaimed, burying his face into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent that he dearly missed, “I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you”.
He kept repeating the phrase against your skin until it finally settled into both of your brains.
He truly was sorry for hurting you the way he did. He should’ve never kept that big of a secret from you. Should’ve never kept you a secret.
“I’m so sorry for everything, yawntu,” Neteyam croaks out, fresh tears running down his face as he kneeled onto the ground with you still in his arms.
He wanted you to know that he was sorry. That he regretted what he did, but didn’t regret you or what you did together.
“I love you so much. I understand if you no longer feel the same. I know I wouldn’t if I were in your shoes. But I need you to know that I do,” he continued, rubbing the side of his face into your hair as you sat perched on his lap, raking your fingers through his braids.
You shook your head, pulling away from the blue boy.
Of course you still loved him. You wouldn’t be in his arms if you didn’t.
“Neteyamur,” you started, delicate hands resting against your lover's damp and tear stained cheeks, heart wrenching at the sight, “I love you. Oel ngati kameie. Always. I understand why you kept me a secret and why you did what you did. I still love you, even after.”.
Your words struck a chord in Neteyam’s heart strings. He for sure thought that you’d still hate him for what happened. Hearing those words come out of your mouth made Neteyam fall even deeper in love with you, if that was even possible.
“Oel ngati kameie, yawntu,” he whispered in response, forehead resting against the glass of your mask.
You smiled in return and stroked Neteyam’s soft and damp cheeks gently with your thumbs.
Everything in your world felt complete again. No matter what happened in your relationship or where it’d lead you, both of you knew that you’d follow each other to the ends of Pandora in a heartbeat. Nothing could stand in the way of your love. Not even the two of you.
After the events occurred, Neteyam had, yet again, proclaimed his love to you underneath the Tree of Souls and made you his once again, but for all to know.
Years passed and the both of you lived long, healthy lives together, only leaving each other once the Great Mother called for the both of you to return to her warm embrace. Even then, you spent every second of your shared afterlife in each other’s arms.
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sugoi-writes · 15 days
Text
Nun!Alastor x Reader - The Confessional - Part 1
It's 1 AM, and @st-alastors-confessional has me foaming at the mouth. I wrote this far-too-long drabble based off of the MOD's Nun Alastor. Please please enjoy!
Warning: Not proofread in the slightest, with implications of sacrilege and sinning behavior. You've been warned! I might do another part with more debauchery down the road hehe
The sermon was going swimmingly, all things considered. The Pastor and Priest, St. Vox, lead with a soulful, boisterous tone. Albeit, he had always led his sermons with a strong, charismatic energy. He left the congregation absolutely enraptured, waiting on hand and foot for him to speak again.... You, another sinner among the crowd, tried to absorb what you could from his ravings and ramblings.
Clearly, when you wound up in Hell... you found out the hard way that God was, indeed, real. You had long been a on-Christian, and even if you still weren't... you couldn't look the facts in the face and say they weren't true. It was a simple notion:
God was real. You were not a loyal believer. You did a bad thing or two, and now you're in a church in the heart of the Pentagram, seeking answers.
You were hoping to find a way to get into Heaven... St. Vox's approach was very traditional, almost 'Dark Ages' approach. A phrase you heard once or twice rung through your mind, clear as the morning church bells:
" When a coin in the coffer rings, a soul in purgatory springs..."... no, was it sings??? That, you werent sure... either way--
Many wealthier, gullible sinners would shove money towards the Church, desperate to buy their way out of Hell. The more meek, kind hearted sinners would often throw money to the offering plates to prevent their love ones from suffering the same fate... Whether their monetary sacrifices were successful or not... well, that's yet to be seen. And no one truly know where that money goes...
And so you searched and listened in the pews patiently, hoping that something would reveal itself to you... Would living justly get you out of here? Would denouncing sin in its entirety get you the ticket out of this hellhole? Hell, did you need to declare yourself celibate? You certainly wouldn't be opposed, after some of the shit you saw on Day One...
In all honestly, you'd be willing to throw a few dollars in the pot on the off chance your gut was wrong about St. Vox's approach. As you know, your intuition had led you astray before...
You were five Sundays deep in this contrived drivel, and yet, you still had questions... The questions that plagued your mind could only be answered by the Priest, ideally during Confessional tonight... But, as you tried your best to stay awake through another biblical tangent, you were startled by a choral uproar. The choir, made entirely of clergy, was the closest thing to Heavenly that they, or any sinner, could hear in Hell.
Honest efforts were being made to sing the hymns and profess the Gospel accurately. The pitches and incantations were perfectly admirable, even enjoyable... and surprisingly, all of this was all done in Latin. It was nearly enough to raise goosebumps across your flesh, your senses pleased by the perfect, harmonious progressions.
One among the nuns who sung, with strong, crimson features, met your gaze in the middle of the refrain. You felt the gaze burrowing into you deeper, trembling subconscious as the song made you sway along.
A pointed, yellowed smile graced your eyes as the deer demon sang along. The overall tone of the higher melodic line had felt like cashmere; it was refined and soft due to their(?) unique voice texture. It was a tone that you felt was familiar... a comforting one. You couldnt put your tongue on it, squinting slightly at the demure nun. They(?) seemed to notice your infatuation, their hands folding neatly together and clasping a fine, ornate rosary. Their hands were elegant, long and thin, reminding you of a Royal... surely, those hands were used for more than empty prayer?
You felt your mind run to impurities and sin almost instantly, panicking as you tore your sight away from the Nun. You felt your throat running dry as you shook your head in shock. You couldn't be thinking this way about a nun-- a NUN? Quite literally, a celibate being, devoted to God and His work. This felt... wrong. So wrong, even for a sinner like you.
Your legs brushed tightly against one another, hoping to stiffle the feeling that pooled in your core. You watched the way that the Nun's chest rose and fell, how the angular jaw was complimented by the small, bobbed tufts that framed it. Your eyes became lost in the visual stimuli as you pondered just how demure and sweet this Nun must have looked under the habit...
You bite the inside of your cheek as you felt the Nun's eyes still looking to you, as if they KNEW exactly what you were thinking. 'If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I might catch a cold,' your mind mimicked in their voice.
You felt indecent, completely exposed to someone who you should be regarding as an example of purity and devotion...
As the hymn finally concluded, the Priest dismissed the clergy. He was swiftly wrapping things up as the coffers and offering plates made their rounds around the room. The nuns assisted, coming row by row to collect generous donations and desperate offerings. You felt yourself stiffen as you noticed the red and black demon making their way closer to you, voice teeming with a startling sweetness.
"Blessings unto you, dear Sinner. Many thanks. ...Blessings unto you, dear. How has your mother been fairing--?"
As the velvety voice grew closer to you, you felt yourself unable to move, paralyzed with fear. What if they knew you were lusting over them so superficially? Would they be able to tell?
You nearly fell into the aisle as a sinner slammed into you from behind, thrusting money towards the chaste nun," Pl-Please!!!! Please, this is all that I have!!! Sister Alastor, Sister Alastor!!! Bless me!!! Bless me, Sister!!!"
The Demon nun took pause at your row, noticing you struggling under the weight of the sinner on top of you. Your lungs felt like they were being squeezed shut, unable to expand in their efforts. You pushed with all of your might, eyes closed as you fought back," W-Watch it, you f-- Ugh, you putrid FUCK!!! Get off me!!!"
Swiftly, Sister Alastor's hand was on the neck of the sinner, squeezing tightly as he gasped and gurgled. The nun simply smiled, head tilted," Dear sinner! Your penance is null and void if you cast discomfort and pain upon thine neighbor!" The nun's neck practically snapped at velocity they cocked their head up, looking downcast at the panicking demon. Unable to look up, you missed the smile Alastor wore, threatening to tear the demonic face of the nun in two.
"Take your vile hands and cast them into the River Styx... for your blood money is not welcome in these halls... Now leave this scared place. "
The sinner gasps, coughing and sputtering as he scrambles away, causing you to fall forward out of your pew. Just when you think you're about to eat shit: two large, taloned hands delicately hold you aloft.
"Are you unharmed, little lamb?" You blink for a moment, looking up slowly... only to find Sister Alastor's face an inch from your own. You stuttered as your hot breath fanned against his face, your legs threatening to give out under you.
"Y-Yes, Im-- I'm quite alright. Thank you, Sister..." You allow Alastor to place you back onto your feet, the hands of the docile-looking demon smoothing out your outfit and brushing off imaginary debris.
"I apologize for making you intervene. Thank you-- I would've been trampled to death, were it not for you." The deer Demon's smile could have made the devil tremble... but to you, it seemed entirely sincere," Thank me not, dear Lamb. For the Lord always calls upon his disciples to help those in need." Alastor takes a step away from you, bowing their head and giving you a polite curtsy.
"Alas, I must be away. But, should you need to seek council... the Lord always has room to hear out your wayward strifes and confessions." You reach out and almost touch the Nun's habit, sheepishly blushing when you sense the farmer's flinch.
"A-Actually... will the Priest be seeing anyone for Confession tonight? I... I have concerns. Concerns I feel like he could help me through... Im troubled, and just..." Your eyes are downcast, unable to look at the devilishly handsome demon," Im... concerned about my salvation. And need advice on how better to achieve it... or, if its really too late for me now."
You feel your heart leap into your throat as the Nun's head pulls off a complete 180° spin, the body following suit a moment after. Alastor clasps both of your hands in his own, smile wide and full of glee," But of course! Our hallowed halls could never deny such an honest soul seeking the Lord's guidance!" Alastor's head grows closer to yours, voice hushing. You're forced to lean in too, his voice hardly above a whisper.
"However, he will be unable to see anyone just yet. Return at the Witching Hour... he will have an audience with you then." Your eyes widened as you smiled back, eagerly shaking the nun's hands," O-Oh thank you-- Thank you!!! I appreciate that! I'll be back soon, then. Bless you, Sister Alastor! "
You nod and bow back to the nun, who regards you evenly but warmly, before watching you leave. You did not see the smirk that spread across Alastor's face... the glint of excitement that lights up his candy red eyes.
Oh, he knows damn well that Vox will not seek an audience with you that late in the night... who best to stand in for the Priest other than himself... the Mother Superior?
His mind festers with demented excitement as you stumbled out of the church, looking like a scared, timid doe... Oh, how he would enjoy seeing you again. He would need to prepare for your visit... after all, you would be doing your fair share of confessing AND atoning for your sins... your eyes hid nothing from him. And he was going to enjoy seeing them well up with blissful tears, a wanton expression gracing your cheeks...
The click of the nun's shoes echoed as he followed the other clergy members elegantly, his face not giving anything away. Oh Lord, how you've blessed him with a most delightful pleasure... he'd be sure to repent for his indecency later.
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annasinterests · 7 months
Text
going out, she's getting into something
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|| main masterlist ||
a/n: here's my contribution for the season, witches! i had SO much fun writing this piece and i hope to get out more for this month! i definitely didn't think it'd be this long but i absolutely loved where it went. also ten points if you could tell when the tone shifted because i started listening to mitski LOL
the dividers are by @saradika — be sure to check them out! 🤍
word count: 10.4k
pairings: arthur morgan x f!reader
warnings & tags: minors dni, halloween time!!! tried to be historically accurate but then again this is fiction y'all, readers having the time of her life honestly, pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, perhaps some errors??, and some wholesome moments here n there :) — please tell me if i missed anything!
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“I already told you girls, the answer is no.”
She didn’t look up from her washing basin as she gave a firm response, her voice tinged with fatigue from the relentless persistence on this matter.
Miss Grimshaw– the unyielding matriarch of the gang– always looking out for the best interest of the camp, even if it meant extinguishing your hopes of a joyous venture beyond its confines.
Normally, you’d accept the answer and move on. But this time, that wasn’t the case. No, you’d been going at it all this week, employing every conceivable tactic to sway her decision– most of which involved volunteering for additional chores atop your designated ones already– because today wasn’t just any other day.
It was Halloween.
And you were damned if you weren’t going out to celebrate it in all its glory.
“Ms. Grimshaw, please,” you continued to beg, “I won’t ask for a thing more!”
The ceaseless scrubbing paused, her hands moving to wipe across her skirt before pressing them against her forehead, muttering words only audible to herself. You stood before her eagerly, hands folded neatly over your apron, shoulders squared– striving to project an aura of innocence that might influence her.
She shook her head as her hands fell hard on her lap, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “Go ask Dutch. If he says it's fine, then you girls can go.”
The elation you felt at her response made you want to dart away before she could have second thoughts, yet your feet remained in the same spot of the muddy grass your heels slowly sunk into. She eyed you as she stood up, your presence a mystery even though she’d already granted your request.
Even though she kept you all on a tight leash, her actions were rooted in sound judgment.
The whole reason there was any stability at camp at all was because of her, no matter how long or short you stayed in some places. She possessed an innate sense of what needed to be done, always placing the welfare of the camp, and more particularly, her girls, at the forefront, even if she had a funny way of showing it sometimes.
“Won’t you come out, too?” Maybe it was naive of you to ask, given she almost never step foot outside camp unless absolutely necessary.
Her hardened stare softened for a moment, peering behind you at camp momentarily as if she really were contemplating it. Her gaze returned to you, her eyebrows drawn together with the faintest curl on her lips.
“What happened to not asking for another thing?”
With a small smile and nod, you excused yourself and set out to find Dutch.
Much to your surprise, he wasn’t in his tent, and a lack of an answer of his whereabouts from Ms. O’Shea didn’t help. Nor did one from Javier out on the post claiming that he hadn’t seen him ride in or out today. And through your thorough search around camp, none revealed a trace of the man you eagerly sought.
On your way back to his tent for a second try, you recognized a figure donning a signature white shirt and black vest standing at the far end of camp, where the view was best of Horseshoe Overlook.
Your smile grew wider with each step to approach him, only calling his name when you were within a few feet.
“Dutch! Can I-”
While your voice caught his attention, it had also gotten the man who stood just nearby him, concealed by the trees until now. You came to an abrupt stop, flickering your widening gaze between the men, feeling hot embarrassment creep onto your cheeks.
It’d been Arthur.
He’d only looked over his shoulder to you, still facing the canyon with his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. The brim of his hat rested just above his eyes as he appraised you, running his eyes up and down your figure.
“I’m sorry..” Your hands instinctively folded against your stomach, “I didn’t realize you were..”
A low chuckle rumbled from Dutch’s chest as he approached you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Nonsense, Miss. Arthur and I were just enjoying the view. Why don’t you join us?”
Your gaze shifted from Dutch’s to Arthur’s, who maintained his position with his chin tucked over his shoulder. He gave no indication as to whether or not your presence affected him, and a slight unease settled in as he was usually quick with a polite comment or sarcastic remark, but he did neither and continued to look at you.
Returning your attention to Dutch, you found him patiently waiting for your response– one hand lingering on your shoulder while the other was outstretched in an invitation to join them at the plateau.
Your lips curled up into a small smile as you walked forward, Dutch appearing to your right and Arthur to his.
The view was nothing short of breathtaking. Below and in the distance, dense forests and mountain ranges stretched for miles, a white veil of mist shrouded at the peaks, and the Dakota River flowed through the canyon, its waters reflecting the brilliant blue of the sky.
What made the scene even more enchanting was the weather– the sun shining bright with barely any clouds to obstruct its rays, its warmth a delight on your skin. The air was crisp in a way that each breath rejuvenated your lungs, a cool and fresh quality trademarked by the fall season.
“What do you think, Miss?” He asked without averting his gaze.
You turned to him, stealing another glance before you, “Pretty as a picture, Dutch.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he softly echoed your sentiment. “Indeed it is.”
For a moment, your eyes fell to Arthur. Like Dutch, he made no move to look away, fully immersed and reveling in the simple pleasures of the moment. His hat still lowered over his eyes, shielding sunlight from those bright blues that could be the sweetest or most intimidating sight. His facial scruff was perfectly tailored for the season– substantial yet manageable, complementing his rugged appearance.
Even in his relaxed stance, you could see his clothing fighting to fit around his muscles, especially in the shoulders and arms. The cuffs of his sleeves clung snugly to his forearms, the contours of his strength evident in raised veins and muscular definition. His thumbs remained tucked into his belt, his large hands lazily curling over it, an embodiment of quiet strength and presence.
A flurry of thoughts swirled in your head– the loudest among them an undeniable realization of just how incredibly attractive this man was.
And how this definitely wasn’t the first time you were thinking this.
You hadn’t realized that you were looking right at him while your thoughts were running wild, and immense embarrassment hit you like a freight train when your eyesight focused on him staring right back at you.
To compound your mortification, your initial reaction was to smile– a smile that aimed to conceal the fact that you had been thoroughly checking him out. You tried to maintain some air of sweetness and innocence, but you knew he could see right through it.
It faltered when he broke contact and looked down, his hat serving as a convenient shield to hide his face entirely. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip, cursing your own lack of composure. It was painfully obvious. You’d gone ahead and made a fool of yourself in front of the man.
Dutch’s voice interrupted your thoughts and commanded you to pull your attention back.
“Camp’s in mighty fine shape thanks to the help of you women here,” he remarked, finally looking at you. “Your contributions are always valued.”
You smoothed out your skirt, a chuckle leaving your lips. “Wouldn’t be as good as it is without Miss Grimshaw. That woman is the glue that keeps us together, I swear by it.”
“That she is.” He agreed, “But with all the effort you ladies put in, I ought to say that you girls deserve a little time to yourselves. Not in camp, that is.”
Your jaw slacked and eyes sparkled with excitement. Barely able to contain the thrill that coursed through your body, your hands began to gesture emphatically as you started up.
“Actually, that’s why I was looking for you!” A grin spread on his face as he took notice of your demeanor, “The girls and I have been dying to go out!”
You caught Arthur lift his head to you, but continued on.
“We would love to go out to town,” you reached out and grazed his arm as he listened, “pleeease, Dutch. Just for tonight?”
He nodded, that reassuring hand finding your shoulder again. “Of course, how could I say no to that?”
You beamed at him, buzzing with even more excitement.
“Where would you ladies like to go? Valentine? Perhaps even Strawberry?”
You bit down on your lip again in a futile attempt to suppress the wicked smile that grew on your face, sheepishly shrugging your shoulders. “Saint Denis?”
“Saint Denis?” Arthur interjected before anyone could speak, stepping in front of Dutch and briefly glancing at you, “Dutch, that’s–”
“Quite alright if that’s where they want to go,” Dutch smoothly derailed his refute, “Arthur.”
But Arthur, being the obstinate man he was, didn’t heed the cue. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head, “That's far, Dutch. Too far.”
Dutch fell silent for a moment, drawing a hand to his hip and shifting his weight to one foot. You wanted to say something to counter Arthur’s point, but you knew his standing with Dutch, so contradicting him could jeopardize your argument, especially after Dutch had already expressed his approval.
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we’ll all be going to Saint Denis tonight.”
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Dutch’s ability to orchestrate a plan that convinced everyone to head down to Saint Denis was a mystery to you, but the best part was that you had absolutely no responsibility in their efforts to move camp for a night.
Because the only thing you had to focus on was having fun.
After Dutch’s final say, Arthur grumbled, shook his head, and retreated back into camp. It likely didn’t improve his mood when you broke the news to the girls and you all erupted in joyful shouts and jumped around, clinging to one another out of pure delight.
Or when you all approached Lenny and Javier in front of him to ask if they’d take you to town and they agreed without putting up the slightest fight.
Or when you couldn’t resist teasing him by suggesting that he wear his best costume for the evening ahead, earning you a glare that you couldn’t help but smirk at.
You hadn’t even had the chance to get out a proper goodbye to the boys as Tilly grabbed your hand and practically dragged you off the wagon to emerge yourselves in the scene of the town, disappearing into the crowds on the paved streets and dodging the ever flowing trams.
Jack O'Lanterns adorned nearly everywhere you turned, perched atop picket fences that lined the slums to the mansion district. Hay bales, while adding to the festive atmosphere, served as a dual purpose as both sustenance for horses and a playground for children to climb upon– an amusing sight that elicited giggles from you.
Karen had led you all into the markets where several vendors hunkered down for the long night ahead, selling various treats and services from harvest foods, to jewelry, to fortune tellings. They all beckoned and invited you over with their expert sales tactics, and usually you would be able to just ignore them, but given today, you gave in to a woman at a jewelry stand.
You and the girls encircled her table and ogled at all the shiny pieces before you, your hands hovering over a splendid array of rings, earrings, and necklaces. With the utmost care, you picked up a ring to examine it further, capturing the saleswoman's attention.
“Oh, that’s gorgeous.” Mary-Beth leaned in to admire it with you, “I’ve never seen somethin’ quite like that before.”
She was absolutely right; it was one of the finest pieces you’d ever seen, far surpassing what you’d observed other women wear. It was a tri-colored gold ring– a dainty gold rose in the middle, flanked by a pink and green leaf to each side, all set against a band crafted with a delicate weaving pattern.
“Would you like to try it on?” The woman offered with a kind smile. “See how it fits?”
You slipped it on your ring finger with ease, gently turning your wrist to admire it from different angles. It hugged against your skin like it was meant to be.
But when you looked down at the price tag, you quickly changed your mind.
“This is a very lovely piece,” you took it off and placed it back on the table, earning a raised brow from Karen, “but it’s more than what I can offer.”
The woman simply nodded at your honesty. You were well aware that most items in these markets were overpriced, with prices inflated to maximize profit, but you felt that this one was truly worth it’s value. With a polite smile, you stepped away from the table and began to walk off with the girls, your heart feeling a little heavy but knowing it wasn’t the end of the world.
But a gentle hand on your elbow caught your attention, pulling you away from the group– the woman.
She took your hand and cupped hers over it, feeling a small object fall into it. Silently, she observed as her hand revealed what she’d given you.
The ring.
Your mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape and your eyes widened, quickly covering it with your other hand.
“Ma’am, I can’t possibly– I don’t have enough–” Her hand on your arm again made you quiet.
“You could’ve easily stolen it from me, but you told the truth and walked away.” Her smile was warm as she plucked the ring from your hand and slipped it on your finger. “Not many people do that here in Saint Denis.”
You looked at her sympathetically, holding her hands in your own, “How can I repay you?”
She grinned and leaned in to whisper, “Come back if you wind up stealing from anyone else.”
You muffled your laughter with a hand over your mouth, giving her a knowing look as she playfully shooed you off with a wink.
You were certainly going to pay her another visit.
Rejoining the girls, you discreetly but excitedly displayed your new possession, allowing each of them to take a turn at holding it up to their faces for a closer look, their voices filled with admiration for its beauty.
Moving out of the markets, you came across the park of Saint Denis. A massive tent had been pitched across the field with people busy setting it up for the evening’s events, clearly designed to cater to a younger crowd. Beneath it were several rows of seats arranged in front of a stage that featured a couple of large basins evenly spaced apart– instantly recognizing it for apple-bobbing. Taking notice of the flairs of red gingham about the area, it made you smile with the detail put into celebrating the day.
The girls had been chattering excitedly about something you hadn’t been fully tuned into, but you snapped back to attention when Karen seized your hand and urged you to run.
Spinning around, Mary-Beth and Tilly were a few paces ahead to your right while Sadie came bolting closer from your left, a wicked grin spread on her face as she pointed towards the other two girls.
“Jump on that trolley!”
Without a second thought, you began weaving in and out of the crowd, your knees kicking your skirt up with each leap. Laughter escaped from you as you heard the startled cries of townsfolk being pushed aside in your hasty getaway, though you really had no idea why you were running at all.
You grabbed Tilly’s hand and hauled yourself up as Mary-Beth did with Karen, whipping around and sticking your hand out for Sadie who was too far away for your liking. Your heart was pounding as the men behind her were catching up, your smile from the adrenaline dropping and turning into panic.
Glancing back, you saw the trolley was due to turn a corner, inevitably too quick for Sadie to keep up with. Your panic escalated until you spotted a way to effectively cut off her pursuers– a tall stack of hay bales just waiting to be tipped over.
Swiftly, you sat on the rail and leaned back with the three girls holding your legs and waist, giving you the ultimate leverage.
“Sadie!” You shouted. “Cut the corner when I say!”
A thumbs up from her was good enough for you. You quickly alternated your gaze between her and the approaching corner, slowly leaning back and stretching out your arm until you couldn’t anymore, your adrenaline pulsing through your entire body now.
With one last look, you yelled your cue, and at the last moment threading your fingers through a band of twine and yanking with all your might.
Slowly, then all of once, they came tumbling down like you intended, fellow townspeople causing an even bigger commotion– or distraction, for your case. The men had no choice but to stop, tripping over the bales and crashing into other people, your plan executed perfectly except for one crucial detail– Sadie.
Frantically, you scanned the crowd, gripping the rail so hard that you were sure to put a dent in it. Shit– Had they got to her after the cut?
Before you could conjure a series of worst-case scenarios, she came sprinting from your right and jumped on to the trolley with ease, all of you ushering inside and taking a seat to catch your breaths.
“I keep tellin’ ya' to trade that skirt for pants, girl.” Sadie smacked your knee, “With quick thinkin’ like that, it’s a waste you don’t get out more.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. The thrill of doing jobs got you antsy, seeing it was something that you could seriously enjoy once in a while, but being a caretaker was what you were at heart. You liked providing stability in a different way.
“What in the hell was all that about?” Karen asked before you could while fanning herself with her hand, “You’re supposed to save the mischief for later, ya’ know.”
Sadie smirked and raised her hands defensively, “I may have miscalculated some things, but–” she dug into her pockets and revealed two handfuls of money, jewelry, and pocket watches. “I think it was worth it.”
You sighed back into your seat as Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen hovered over to get a better look, “I say we take that and go straight to a saloon.”
Sadie shot you an incredulous look, “I just worked my tail off for this, and you wanna spend it already?”
“No–” You dragged a hand over your face and huffed out a laugh, “For bets, idiot. Take more from their pockets, but the fair way.”
She contemplated for a moment. “I ain’t very good at table games.”
“I am!” Karen perked up.
You shot a sly look at Sadie, the dots connecting immediately. And just as you found your new activity for the next couple hours, the trolley slowed to a stop, and you all quickly hopped out the back and right into Doyle’s Tavern.
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Hours in, Sadie was racking up more cash and treasures than all five of you could even carry.
It’d been more packed than when you first entered, the festive spirit flourishing through the establishment. On top of all the autumnal decorations already in place, skeletons dangled behind the bar and burning candles littered about to give the right impression of mischievous yet inviting. Round tables were busy with patrons, some full of drinks, others invested in rounds of poker or dominoes– like your own. And when you weren’t glued to a game, you were at the bar flirting your way for a free drink or charming men just to get close enough to discreetly pilfer valuables from their person.
Now, you sauntered over to Karen’s side after taking a brief stroll and glance at Sadie’s hand from the opposite side of the table. While you weren’t intimately familiar with poker, you knew what constituted the best possible hand, and it just so happened that your dear friend held that in her fingers without even knowing it.
You could see the men at the table underestimating her, their smug smiles stemming from her being the lone woman and their belief that they held the winning hand.
But none of them came close to a royal flush.
Nudging Karen, you whispered your observation, a smirk appearing on her face instantly. She shot Sadie a wink– the cue to let them have it– and watched the scene unfold as she splayed her cards across the table.
Their smug smiles dropped to open-mouthed astonishment and disapproving grumbles, slamming their hands down on the table and begrudgingly pushing their bets towards her. She kept her head down in a noble act, but it was really to hide the shit-eating grin on her face as the table cleared and her opponents drudged to the bar for another much needed drink after losing their fourth consecutive round.
Sadie joined you at the side as you all began to leave with the earnings. “God, why don’t we do this more often?” She mused while placing a chunk of wealth into your hands, “Better than the guys doin’ busted-up, ass-backwards jobs if ya’ ask me.”
Mary-Beth spun around and walked backwards as she received her cut, “Well we would if Miss Grimshaw wasn’t such a damn witch.”
“Mhm,” Karen agreed over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw her ridin’ a broom tonight.”
Amid their hearty laughter, you quietly chuckled. You knew that despite her being a hell-bound handler, she loved you girls more than anything.
“Y’all are terrible,” you playfully chided while poking them in the back, “both of you!”
The sun had set as you entered the streets of Saint Denis again, now lit up by streetlights, candles, and Jack O’Lanterns. Your eyes twinkled at the sights, the town completely transforming for the night life. Children roamed the sidewalks in noisy groups, no doubt ready to wreak havoc and fully embody the spirit of mischief. Townsfolk flooded in front of every tavern, saloon, and vicinity that promised alcohol, money, and a good time.
But what really caught your eye was the other women– more precisely, their attire.
Left and right you spotted the most beautiful Victorian dresses you’d laid eyes upon– rich in color and carefully designed with the best materials money could buy– and as well as soft and colorful medieval gowns that fluttered and flowed in the gentle breeze. You couldn’t help but stare in awe of their beauty and how well-fitting they were for the evening.
Sadie saw your hands curl around your money as your eyes flitted around and a sly smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Ya’ know, there’s a boutique just around the corner.”
You shrugged at the idea, but she insisted. “Don’t give me none of that– Go on, go get yourself somethin’ pretty,” she bumped you with her elbow, “I know you wanna.”
You bit your lip as a smile crept on your face, glancing down at your hands and back to her while slowly backing away.
“Give me five minutes.”
It was a lie.
Five turned more into twenty with trying on several different dresses before finding the one.
Initially, you tried on the first dress you saw in the window of the shop, a gorgeous navy dress with an integrated corset between the flared skirt and puffy sleeves. However, the bustle was more than you bargained for, and you certainly didn’t fancy the look of having a shelf on your backside. The mirror in the fitting room let you know that the ‘regal’ look was something you weren’t interested in.
The second was a significant improvement from the first. It leaned toward a more gothic style, featuring a mix of black and red satin, as if the red were a robe draped over the black gown, yet both were stitched together seamlessly. Strings criss-crossed over the bust and torso, giving it a unique backward corset appearance, and the sleeves were long and chinched near the elbows. It even came with a hood adorned with black lace trim– a distinctive feature compared to most gowns you had seen. You loved how it looked and felt, but there was a persistent voice in your head that told you it looked too cultish, especially with the hood. In the end, your conscience had guided you out of the fitting room and onto the next.
Picking through the collections had consumed more time than you had anticipated, and your impatience grew as you felt your precious night slipping away.
Nothing was catching your eye and you just wanted something.
You looked out the window to all the bodies strolling through the streets– laughing, smiling, talking– while you were wasting time away finding a silly dress to wear.
The sound of the bell above the door ringing brought you back as a couple customers entered the store, a trio of young women in animated conversation about accessories and making a bee-line for the displays. But as you eyed them, your gaze shifted to just the right of them, falling on exactly what you were looking for.
There it was– a long, crimson floor-length skirt cinched at the seam under the bust, paired with a striking black blouse. But this wasn’t just any black blouse. No, it had balloon sleeves with exaggerated cuffs adorned with buttons that matched the body, and a stunning combination of lace and mesh on the collar that extended gracefully from shoulder to shoulder.
Not wasting another second, you swiped it and practically flew in and out of the changing room, taking a look in the mirror afterwards and absolutely falling in love with how it looked on you. It was comfortable and conventional with a dash of sexy– a match made in heaven! You slid a wad of cash across the counter to the gentleman in exchange for a paper bag for your other clothes and were quickly out the door.
Clutching the bag, you navigated the labyrinthine alleyways and main roads of Saint Denis in search of your girls, thinking just when you found them, it was just another bunch that looked similar from afar. Head on a swivel, you did your best to avoid getting distracted by the lively celebrations around you, despite your strong desire to join in.
So set on your mission, you didn’t even think to look both ways before nearly stepping in front of an oncoming trolley– being saved by a large hards on your arm and waist.
“Oh!–” You palm flew over your chest as you gasped, “I– Thank you! I didn’t even see where I was going!”
“Quite some timing there,” the figure chuckled, “we just got here.”
We?
Looking up, you were met with Charles looking down at you with a kind smile, putting you at ease. In the not-so-far distance, you saw Dutch, Jack, and Kieran hitching their horses and making their way over to you.
“I see you girls have been busy!” Dutch declared as he grandly gestured to your new clothes. “Having fun I hope?”
You nodded politely. Fun and causing trouble, but who were you to spill about that?
A satisfied grin crossed his face, “We’re off to meet the others at Mayor Lemieux. Care to join us, Miss?”
Reuniting with the rest of the gang? Say less.
Before you could answer, you remembered the bag in your hand and looked down at it, your thoughts not lost on the men around you. Not that your old clothes were worth much in a town like Saint Denis, but they were still yours.
“You three go on, we’ll meet you there.” Charles insisted to Dutch, then turned to you as they walked away. “You can leave your stuff with me, it’ll be safe.”
You smiled as he just knew what to do, the protective side of the men you always appreciated. A short walk over to the stables, where he insisted on keeping his horse rather than in the open, and stowing your things later, you were back on track to the mansion district– after some jokes about all the wealth you’d been carrying, of course, and keeping a couple pieces on you for when you saw your market friend.
You marveled at the increasing crowd in the town– kids’ laughter echoed through the streets that mingled with the roars and singing reverberating from every saloon, and occasionally, there were startled shrieks of terror caused by juveniles of the night. You made comments about the atmosphere and were very careful to stay out of the way of the ongoing trolleys, a small inside joke brewing between you both.
In Charles, you felt a strong sense of safety and trust. He was one of the few men you believed to be genuinely good, his only flaw being part of a criminal gang, but even that could be justified with loyalty. He was kind and respectful, not just towards women, but towards everyone. He was someone to have on your side, always.
“So, is everyone really out here?” You inquired, “I didn’t think that Dutch could really rally everyone up to come into town.”
“For the most part,” Charles shrugged, “a couple of them wanted to stay and watch camp. Said they weren’t too big on celebrating.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Who decided to hang back?”
Charles chuckled and glanced at you, teasing, “What’s got you so curious? Expecting somebody?"
Your cheeks burned at his question. You hadn’t been thinking of him until this very moment.
“Maybe I was praying for a miracle that Micah didn’t come.”
He laughed louder this time, “Well, it was answered.”
You cracked a smile at your banter, but now your mind was totally elsewhere and remained that way well into the district, the buzzing of your thoughts stopping at the front entrance of Mayor Lemieux’s estate.
Before you was a huge mansion, white with pillars supporting the sprawling balcony that extended to each side of the house and a wide staircase that led up to an opulent wrap-around porch. From the outside alone, you could tell that every inch of this property was occupied between the amount of people and staff.
Charles led the way into the estate, making sure you didn’t lose him along the way as you looked about. You thought the exterior was grand enough already, but the interior proved to be much more. The flooring in each room varied, from carpet, to tile, to wood– all extravagant. As soon as you stepped inside, a staircase greeted you and split off into two more on each side for the second level, all lined with a rich red and gold carpet. The walls were lined with exquisite light fixtures and portraits of people you couldn’t even begin to name, and an enormous chandelier hung over the center of the entrance, adding to the luxurious ambiance.
Making your way to the back, you grabbed a drink and some hors d’oeuvres off a tray from a nearby server, nursing the drink and nibbling on the food a little bit at a time. As if you thought the place couldn’t be anymore rich, the gazebo and water fountain in the backyard told you otherwise. It was also now that you noticed that the estate had been on the water which reinforced its extravagance. Every single detail had been thought out to make this place the go-to spot for the people of Saint Denis between the assortment of food and beverages, games, decorations– everything.
Your favorite part, though? Finding your people again.
The girls cheered as you locked eyes at the same time, flocking to you and immediately forcing you to spin to show off your attire for the evening. Charles rejoined Dutch, Jack, and Kieran again as they watched you five with amused expressions.
“Next time, we’re comin’ with,” Sadie raised her glass to yours, “five minutes my ass.”
You sheepishly smiled at her and clinked your glass against hers while looking around, “Where’s everyone else? Charles said-”
“There she is!”
Your voice froze as you heard the familiar sound of a particular woman, turning around to meet them.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d show up.”
Your face dropped.
“Miss Grimshaw?”
She took complete pleasure in your utter surprise, sporting a smirk as she sipped from a glass of dark liquid. You approached her, gesturing to say something, but words eluded you, earning a chuckle from her. She savored her drink and waited patiently, her smug expression unyielding until you finally found your voice.
“I didn’t think you wanted to-”
“Celebrate the Day of the Dead? I don’t.” You raised your eyebrows at her bluntness. She took a few steps towards you, “But it beats bein’ in that camp for once. And free drinks ain’t so bad either”
There’s the Susan Grimshaw you knew.
You were quiet as she surveyed your attire, ruffling your sleeve from awkward creases and smoothing it afterwards. Her gaze drew up to your face, looking everywhere but your eyes, making sure all your hairs were in place and that you didn’t just walk straight out of a barn. She placed her fingers under your chin and tilted up to her.
“Don’t be dumb. Don’t be stupid. And don’t go diggin’ up graves. Ya’ hear me?”
You smirked. “No promises.”
She rolled her eyes as her hand dropped, smacking you on the shoulder. “Lord, y’all are the reason I have all these grays.”
She winked at you as she moved on from your conversation, and when you turned back to your friends, they had vanished.
Again.
You let out a suppressed laugh at the circumstances. Of course– if you weren’t glued to their hip, you were bound to lose them. And with as many people there were, finding them again wouldn’t be easy. So, you chose not to.
Swiping another drink from a passing server, you wandered about the property and drank while you observed the various scenes that played out. Suited men overindulging in beers and politics, staff lingering in the corner and gossiping in hushed tones, and young women trying to appear more desirable by loosening buttons or letting a sleeve slip off their shoulders.
The further into the night, the more increasingly bold and uninhibited people became, embracing the wicked and mischievous aspects of the holiday. You noticed it more as you went about the district, slipping in and out without attracting much attention– a level of anonymity you found strangely enjoyable.
The only interruptions were the occasional sightings of familiar faces when you were least expecting them– like Lenny and Kieran on the corner of a saloon, or Karen and Sean talking it up on the staircase of another mansion. Despite their lack of acknowledgement, you still grinned towards them and continued your exploration.
As you came across one of the last estates, you’d barely stepped foot on the property before hearing your name shouted out, causing you to jump.
“Over here, Miss!”
Realizing it to be Dutch beckoning you over, you relaxed and crossed the yard to join at his side, accompanied by a few unfamiliar men. You graciously made their acquaintance and accepted a drink offered by Dutch.
“Gentlemen, this here is one of Van Der Linde’s finest.” He bowed to you, eliciting a shy chuckle out of you, “Truly, she’s one of a kind.”
“You don’t have to tell us twice,” the man to your left winked in your direction. He extended his hand to you, “It’s a shame we haven’t met earlier.”
He was conventionally attractive; kept hair, clean shaven, chiseled features, well dressed. His accent you couldn’t particularly place but found it interesting nonetheless– carrying a definitive air of sophistication.
Taking his hand, he brought it up to his face and kissed the top of it– an act that normally would be acceptable, but you got an icky feeling from him. You bowed your head only to be polite, finding words unnecessary.
“What do you say, dear, let me take you for a drink and have the privilege of getting to know all about Van Der Linde’s finest?”
The bold request had you raising your eyebrows and an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You flushed with embarrassment, was this really happening right now, especially in front of Dutch? It felt so wrong. You didn’t realize how long you’d been silent until another voice interjected.
“She ain’t interested.”
Your eyes widened and back straightened at the deep drawl.
Arthur.
His imposing presence settled beside you, taking the opportunity to steal a glance at him while he was focused on the gentleman before you. It turned into a double-take once you realized what he was wearing.
His hands held his trusty gun belt over a pair of dark pants– jeans, maybe, but it was hard to discern in the dim light. He swapped his typical suspenders for a ragged dark brown leather belt, a unique change yet fitting one. And his shirt– God, his shirt– a white and red gingham button-up that he filled out perfectly with cuffed sleeves. Now that was different, and probably not his preferred style deep down, but you loved it. Even his hat was different, trading his father’s for a much fancier one with a wide front dip and roll, as well as the band featuring brass rifle bullets.
You couldn’t help but gawk. He looked so damn good, and also the only one out of the gang that actually dressed up for the occasion.
“Last I checked, I was speaking to the lady.” The gentleman puffed his chest a bit, elegantly gesturing to you.
Arthur chuckled lowly, his demeanor remaining cool, “Yeah, well, last I checked the lady wasn’t talkin’ back.”
The gentleman, clearly insulted, narrowed his eyes on Arthur as his fingers pinched the stem of his wine glass– the difference between their behaviors clear as day. During their small exchange, you kept your eyes on your hands that held a drink, though you weren’t interested in it much at the moment.
“It’s clear you’ve made her uncomfortable with your poor manners,” the irony of his words made the faintest smile curl on your lips.
Arthur laughed louder, turning to you and draping a hand behind your back while the other settled on his belt still, “Miss, have I made you uncomfortable with my poor manners?”
You met his gaze with a knowing look, biting your lip to fend off the smile that was deepening at him fucking with the man. You knew the answer, and so did Arthur, and you got a kick out of his way of making him look like a fool.
“What poor manners?” You raised your drink to your lips to further conceal your amusement while maintaining eye contact with Arthur, a smirk appearing on his face.
“See? She just ain’t wanna talk to you.” Arthur’s hand pressed against your back, directing you to move, while he tipped his head and gestured a farewell, “Now, you gentlemen have a fine night.”
As you walked further away you could hear bits and pieces of Dutch attempting to soothe the situation, which, to you, sounded like a lot of ass-kissing to salvage whatever relations he had built with those men before suffering a blow from Arthur.
Speaking of him– your skin was warm where his hand touched and guided you, steady as he maneuvered you both through the crowds. It was reminiscent of the feeling you’d had with Charles earlier, but with Arthur, it was different– more intense. Even from behind, you could sense his frame towering over you, feeling a warmth in your cheeks just at the thought of his broadness alone. He mumbled a series of ‘excuse us’ and ‘watch out’ as you moved along into the backyard, the scene nearly the same compared to Mayor Lemieux’s, of course the obvious difference was the actual yard itself.
It was only when you were nearly at the back that his hand dropped from you as he rested against a pillar, his eyes carefully scanning through the sea of people before returning to you.
“M’sorry about that,” his sincerity was evident. “Dutch’s been with ‘em all night, and I ain’t got a very good feeling about it.”
You appreciated his apology though it wasn’t really necessary. His intent was clear, and you admired him for it.
“Well, I’d say you’re my knight in shining armor, but it’s looking more like..” Your eyes danced around his attire again with a hint of a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he shook his head and put his bottle to his lips, giving you a fine sight to see. “S’your fault I’m wearin this get-up, by the way.”
He pointed at you while leaning back, shifting his weight to one foot with the other crossed in front of it. His arms crossed against his chest in a way made his arms look ridiculously big, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this man didn’t have women lining up for him around the block.
“Oh, you say it like it’s a bad thing,” you retorted, taking a sip from your glass before gesturing to yourself. “And you’re not the only one, see?”
With a graceful twirl, you spun around, allowing your skirt to flare for a flashy effect. Arthur couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you.
“Are you supposed to be somethin’, or?” There was a genuine curiosity in his tone that had you raising your brows, which caused him to stutter. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It looks, you look–”
A laugh from you calmed his nerves, “I’m not, I just wanted to be festive, is all.”
He nodded and shifted his weight to the other foot, casting his gaze towards the crowd again. An awkward silence filled the space for a moment.
“What about you? What’s your get-up?” You grinned as he rolled his eyes at his word choice for costume. “And don’t say a cowboy.”
He fell quiet.
“An outlaw?”
Your laughter mingled in the air with Arthur’s, seeing a dash of red spread across his cheeks. It was exactly the kind of answer you had expected.
As it died down, his attention returned to the yard, and you couldn’t help but look at him. With his rugged looks, quick wit, and heart of gold, it was hard not to feel something for him. And for how much you were having a good time in the short duration you were with him, you couldn’t believe he ever protested coming out here.
Your heart fluttered for him. He could’ve been anywhere else right now, either at camp or drinking and getting into trouble, but yet he stayed with you, and it didn’t look like he was leaving your side anytime soon.
“Arthur–”
“We gotta move–”
The sudden urgency in his voice caught you off-guard. He stood from the pillar and a protective hand was on your back again, preparing to lead you away once more. Both of your gazes were fixed on several unfriendly-looking staff members who were combing through people with lanterns– grabbing them by the shoulder, holding the light to their face, then carelessly throwing them aside when they weren’t the face they were looking for.
Just your luck.
Quickly, Arthur guided you down the steps and to the right to what you assumed was a storage house. You kept an eye out while he found a way in, though your panic rose as they kept sweeping the yard and moving closer.
“Arthur, any day now would be gr–”
He pulled your arm into darkness and swung the door shut, immediately blocking it with an object that was too dark for you to see. The space was much smaller than you imagined and quite stuffy, the music and conversation muffled to your ears now.
Your heart hammered in your chest, surely this wasn’t because of a bruise to the ego? But then again, these rich folk seemed sensitive. You joined Arthur at the small window, just peeking around the curtain to watch the unwelcomed company grow closer, “Some staff this place has.”
“This place belongs to Angelo Bronté. And that ain’t staff.”
You scoffed, “Who?”
“Somebody we ain't need to piss off.”
You faced him, “And let me guess, you pissed him off somehow?”
As he turned to you, you became acutely aware of the lack of distance between you both. Just the slight inch forward and–
No– now was not the time to lust over him, even if your body was giving you all the telltale signs, especially the fire that burned in your core. But it didn’t help when he smirked at you for an answer, the dim illumination of half his face making him look criminally more attractive. You groaned at the overall situation– grappling with your desires and figuring how it wouldn’t be a true Van Der Linde outing if someone didn’t cause trouble.
Your fingers curled around the curtain as you watched them gather near where you’d been standing no more than ten minutes ago. Glancing back, you noticed another window that would lead just over the wall– your escape.
“Hey, there’s a–”
“Where'd you get that?”
You knitted your brows in confusion at him, letting a beat pass before seeing where his eyes had been glued to– your hand on the curtain.
The ring.
The dim light from outside still made it twinkle in the darkness of the room, catching his attention. You glanced at it before redirecting your gaze to the henchmen that had now come down the stairs and searched the opposite side of the patio behind some barrels. It was only a matter of time before they came looking where you were.
“Someone gave it to me, but listen–”
“Who gave it to you? His voice was insistent as he stared at you intently.
You stared back dumbfounded. Between wanting to have him right in this storage house and your pursuers less than twenty yards away, you couldn’t comprehend he was pestering you about this right now.
Letting out a huff, you blindly reached around for anything to give you a boost, finding your footing and hoisting upwards to reach the higher window. With one arm supporting yourself, the other made work with the pane, pushing it up little by little. It proved to be more difficult than you expected from its old age and scarce use. Your heart raced when you heard the twisting of the door knob and voices from the outside congregating around it.
Shit.
With a final push, you opened it all the way, whispering urgently, “C’mon!”
Arthur followed swiftly after you, his plunge to the ground a bit more graceful than yours, but certain he wasn’t looking anyway. Just as hit feet hit the ground, you heard the door bust open from inside, followed by several heavy footsteps and angry voices.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the right to run down the street, bumping into townsfolk along the way and hearing their unpleasant words go in one ear and out the other. But they weren’t the only ones disgruntled– so were more henchmen that were right after you. How many people did this guy have?
Your muttered profanity let Arthur know that trouble was on your tail, tightening his grip on your hand and looking for any way out.
An intersection was coming up as you ran further into Saint Denis, which meant more people, more places to hide, and more–
“Trolley!”
You pointed at it as it was approaching too quickly for your liking, hoping Arthur would see and redirect your route. But instead, he tugged for you to run faster.
“We’re not gonna–”
“Just trust me!”
Your eyes darted from the street ahead to the trolley, panic at an all time high as you were essentially running to your certain death.
You squinted as the bright lights blinded you, your legs pumping as fast as they could, and your shriek swallowed by the horn of the machine– you accepted your fate as an oversized bug smeared across its windshield.
You felt your body jerked to the side and slam against concrete. You were disoriented, your senses in chaos. This was it. The afterlife already– dark, cold, and full of..
Ragged breathing?
“Goddamn...” Arthur’s voice reached your ears.
You shot your eyes open at Arthur’s rasp, your heart painfully thumping in your chest and lungs aching with every breath. You heaved and peered around the corner to see Bronté’s men grouped in the street looking for a sign of either of you, but their efforts yielded nothing. WIth an angered look of defeat, they turned back towards the estate, and you let out a deep sigh of relief.
When you turned back, Arthur stood close to you, his gaze drawn to the men then falling to you after.
“You,” you poked at his chest, “are absolutely insane. Never make me do that again!”
“Remember,” his hand reached up for yours, “I’m an outlaw, not a liar.”
You shared a soft laugh, captivated by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and the soothing timbre of his voice. Your gaze shifted down to your conjoined hands, appreciating the gentle way he held yours despite his larger and rougher ones. His skin was warm against yours, and although you expected fireworks, it was more like a softness, surrendering to its familiarity despite never having experienced it before.
Lightly, his thumb grazed your palm and stopped at the band around your finger, gently turning your hand over so that the design was visible. He examined it closely, tracing the delicate details with his thumb.
“A woman in the market here gave it to me... Told her I couldn’t afford it, but she wanted me to keep it– insisted on it.”
He continued to look at it, taking in all the tiny details as best as he could in the dark alley. A faint smile appeared on his lips as his thumb ran over it, “Sounds like it was meant to be.”
His choice of words resonated with you, reaffirming the same feeling you’d had when you first tried it on.
A chuckle and grin from you caused him to tilt his head with a playful expression, slightly leaning closer to you, “What?”
You glanced at the ring and back to him, briefly holding your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. Your gaze flickered from his eyes, down to his lips, and back up again.
“You believe in fate, Arthur Morgan?”
His smile faded and eyes slightly widened, but your soft gaze remained steady on him. Your hands left his and traveled to his shoulders, carefully smoothing out any wrinkles. His breathing quickened, especially after the sudden touch. He stared deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that would tell him it was all in his head, but it wasn’t. You knew what you were asking.
He lowered his head for a moment, his expression softening under your touch and drawing closer to you. When he met your eyes again, a fleeting look of sadness crossed his face as his hands found themselves under your elbows.
Being involved with someone like him came with hardships for both sides– a lifestyle that one had to keep and the other suffered because of it. It wasn’t fair, eternally caught in moral dilemmas and forever denied the chance to settle down. There wasn’t the luxury to cherry-pick from life’s offerings, to have it all. This was his life, and he carried the weight of it heavily.
“I don’t believe in a lot of things,”
But you didn’t care. You had embraced a life similar to his, akin to that of the Van Der Linde gang. If you hadn’t, would you all have winded up together anyway?
You understood the unconventional life you all led, far from the standard, civilized existence that others pursued. But it worked for you, and you had each other to rely on, and that’s what truly mattered. You saw beyond the surface, beyond the cold outlaw label that clung to him, a man with flaws and virtues. Maybe he lost his temper too quickly at times or wielded a sharp tongue, but beneath it all, there was love, kindness, and a sense of honor that ran deep within him.
The world may have painted him as the Devil incarnate, but you knew him differently. He was a good man, capable of both selfless kindness and quiet introspection. In your heart, you held this belief, and nothing could change that.
Life had conspired to bring you together. And in that union, there was fate.
“But I have my exceptions.”
He pressed his lips gently against yours, his arms snaking behind and around as yours curled over his shoulders.
It was slow and sweet just like how you imagined he would be– taking his time to know your body and touch. His hands spread along your back and held you protectively, your bodies melting into one another. The breaks between were short, too focused on the fact this was happening to pay attention to anything else but each other. Your hand moved to his cheek and ran your thumb along his beard, earning a hum of pleasure from the small act and had you smiling against his lips.
When you finally broke, you rested foreheads together, pushing up his hat slightly in the process. Even in a dark alley, you could still make out his bright blue eyes and a deep shade of red gracing his skin. You couldn’t even begin to conceal your toothy grin, nor could he.
“I have my exceptions, too.”
His hand reached up and curled around yours, “Hope I’m the only one, then.”
You pecked his lips before stepping back and lacing your fingers with his, gently tugging to walk, “I’ll think about it.”
He rolled his eyes at your wink but still grinned, happily following you around wherever you dragged him to. Slipping between alleys, you merged yourselves with the lively nightlife again– the same sights you saw during the day looked even better now.
As you strolled through the town hand-in-hand, a sense of domesticity settled upon you. Tonight, you weren’t part of a highly wanted gang, you were just another pair in the streets of Saint Denis– clinging to his arm, catching snippets of entertainment through saloon doors, and getting the other’s attention when something of interest was spotted.
One of the things you enjoyed most was Arthur’s reactions to when kids jumped out to scare you both, a prank played on anyone who dared to walk the particular stretch of the street. The younger the prankster, the more dramatic Arthur’s responses became. He would place a hand over his heart and tightly cling to you with feigned disbelief, saying things like “Haven’t been scared like that in years!” or, “Never even saw ‘em comin!” before saying some words of encouragement that fueled the next scare.
Teenage boys who attempted the same stunt received a more wary reception from Arthur, recognizing their motives often stemmed from a desire to appear cool in front of friends or impress girls, and that their pranks were much more juvenile. In most cases, his glare and sheer size alone were enough to send them fleeing, but those who dared to persist were subjected to his quick tongue and left them retreating like chastened dogs with their tails between their legs. Your laughter always followed the encounter, adding to the lingering sting of Arthur’s verbal reprimand.
Eventually, your route had led you near the markets again, and you eagerly pulled Arthur along to find your favorite stand. He chuckled and followed your lead as you navigated through the crowd, your excitement palpable.
“Oh please tell me you stole him!” Came a familiar voice around the corner.
You smiled at the sight of her and approached, seeing that her table had been decently cleared, a sign of a good night for profits.
Arthur politely tipped his head towards her with a shy smile, “Afraid it’s the other way around, ma’am.”
You felt a warmth on your cheeks at his answer and gently squeezed his hand before letting it go to dig out your promises tucked expertly within your clothing. “But I do come bearing gifts!”
Her playful frown turned up into genuine surprise at your reveal of assorted jewelry and trinkets– indeed impressed with your take as it was more than she anticipated. Carefully, she examined each one before placing them with her own wares for sale, whispering a praise about the item while doing so. As she spoke, her eyes flitted about her table, her gestures revealing a hint of embarrassment.
“I apologize that I don’t have more to offer, dear,” her eyebrows furrowed apologetically, “but please, do take whatever you like.”
You glanced over the table, hesitating as you hovered a hand over an item before retracting it, shaking your head slowly. The woman and Arthur exchanged puzzled glances, the woman’s expression now tinged with concern.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight, I’ll be here–”
“It’s quite alright,” you replied sweetly, though the confusion was still apparent in her expression. “I just wanted to repay you.”
She layered her hands over her chest in gratitude, and you felt the act of pure kindness from one human to another to be worth more than any dollar bill or piece of gold.
You also knew that besides the girls, each member that was out had surely pickpocketed or gambled their way into getting a cut for themselves and camp.
Her eyes peered over to Arthur for a moment, his posture straightening when she pointed a motherly finger at him. “Don’t let this one go, you hear?”
You giggled at her demand, and another wave of red kissing his cheeks only added to your amusement as he tipped his head at her once again.
Slowly, you exchanged goodbyes as Arthur placed a hand on your lower back and subtly scooched you along– only for it to be an excuse to slip a wad of cash towards the woman without you noticing. Her hands were quick to replace the cash in his hands for something small and delicate into his, darting her eyes between your turned figure and him before shooting a wink. Without looking, Arthur knew exactly what she gave him, and placed it right in his pocket before giving you his full attention as you continued through the strip.
A warm smile graced your lips as Arthur’s arm wrapped around your waist and he planted a gentle kiss on your head, feeling a tiny swarm of butterflies in your chest. His attention made you feel important with the way he had to touch you, like he needed everyone to see you on his arm, proud to have you by his side.
As the night wore on, you couldn’t suppress the heaviness of your eyelids. You tried to hide your yawns that wouldn’t stop coming after the initial one, but Arthur noticed after the second one. After exploring nearly all the sights of Saint Denis, with the exception of the mansion district, of which you had wisely avoided for the rest of the evening, he convinced you to rest at a hotel for the night. You protested at first, but another yawn and knowing look from him persuaded you to give in.
He’d slipped the clerk a little more than the average room cost, wanting you to have the best possible after such a physically taxing day. The clerk, more than willing to oblige, had graciously handed over the keys.
While the lofty bed and opulent room details were certainly appealing, you immediately took to the private balcony that gave the perfect view over the town, allowing you to continue enjoying the night from the comfort of your room. Your skirt fluttered in the breeze, mirroring the movement of the curtains as you leaned against the iron railing. A soft, ambient glow illuminated your figure, creating a picturesque scene that Arthur couldn’t help but admire– a sight he would undoubtedly sketch later.
He joined at your side, his presence reassuring as he brushed against your shoulder. You continued to gaze down at the bustling town below, the sounds of murmured conversation and laughter from the open buildings– mostly taverns and saloons– filling the night air. You rested your head against Arthur’s shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
“I know I acted like I didn’t wanna come out here tonight,” he mentioned as he looked down at you, meeting your gaze that reaffirmed his statement that pulled a smile from him. “But I’m glad I did.”
Adjusting to face him properly, he snaked his arm around you as he did the same, drawing you closer to him with a soft, affectionate look. You brushed noses as you settled in his space, your lips mere centimeters from his.
“I’m glad you did too.”
Your lips locked in a passionate embrace, and the cheers and woos from below had reached your ears, causing both of you to break into smiles at the unexpected audience. But he paid no heed to the commotion as he pulled you in for more, his hands finding your face to deepen your connection.
In a brief moment of separation, you took the opportunity to give him a suggestive smirk and nod to the room that told him everything he needed to know– quickly peppering kisses along your jaw and neck before swiftly sweeping you off your feet and right into bed.
If tonight proved one thing, it was that you needed to get out of camp more often.
Especially with Arthur.
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