#dances and daggers chapter 12 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meshlasolus · 1 year

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What Once Was Mine

Chapter 12

Summary: Locked away in a house her entire life, she always dreamed of exploring the nearby kingdom for just a day, believing it could make the rest of her days in solitude bearable. What she was unaware of, was the real reason she’d been hidden away for so long. Changes comes swift like a flying dagger when a thieving bounty hunter seeks solace in the old home.

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: okay so there’s one more part after this and then Ima start posting more indy stuff…

Warnings: Heavy fluff, angst if you squint, Bo being a little bit weird ig… Oh and smut (18+)

He was strong enough to ride a horse, that was his argument.

“I had to walk you down those steps to get to the stable,” you countered, a chuckle within your tone as you tried to reason with your mandalorian hunter. He was being so stubborn about his healing process, and even now, while strolling through the gardens, he had an arm hooked around yours for safety.

“You didn’t have to, you wanted to,” he emphasized his point by stepping away for a moment, walking on his own and without a limp in his footsteps. You could acknowledge that there was quite a bit of progress since he had been injured, but you wondered if he was fully recovered or just pretending to appease you. “See? I’m fine.”

You shook your head and rejoined your arms, linking together at the elbow as you continued your stroll. You still had to have a chaperone present on your day walks, as until you were married, it would not be appropriate for other court members and such to see you alone together. She followed behind at a close distance, but she minded her own business enough that you both felt comfortable to express yourselves freely.

“If you are in fact fine, you wouldn’t mind dancing with me in the hall this evening?” You let your voice grow softer, leaning into him a small bit when you spoke. It was innocent enough, but unfortunately something as simple as this may be looked down upon by royal standards. You were new to the life of monarchy, and still didn’t know the rules of what was tolerated and what wasn’t.

“Walking and dancing are two separate things,” he chided, trying to still seem confident about his progress while also making it known that he hadn’t quite made it that far.

“Then I will postpone the planning further.”

He huffed a sigh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at your antics. Oh how he loved you, but sometimes you were more stubborn than he was, and that in itself was an accomplishment.

“Lady Bo Katan said the planning would take a fortnight, I’m sure I’ll be fully recovered by then,” he argued yet again, and you would admit you were getting closer to folding. He turned to you, stopping in the walkway on the cobblestones and taking your hands in his own. The look in his eyes as he took in your every feature… those eyes made you a victim, willing to comply with any request he may ever present. It’s not like he was asking anything bad of you, quite the opposite, actually. “I just want to be married to you.”

With a hand placed at the side of his face, you leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the nose. There was still a chaperone behind you, after all. “Only if you’re completely sure you can dance with me by then.”

“I promise, I will dance with you until your feet give out.”

You chuckled timidly, a blush spreading across your cheeks from the smirk forming across his.

“Then I’ll tell Bo this afternoon.” With a nod, and a sweet smile, the deal was sealed. It was all done in perfect timing, too, for the royal child nurse, Peli, came rushing up to you both with your lovely green bundle in her arms.

You reached out to take the baby into your possession, his tiny hands reaching out for you in return.

“Good morning, bright eyes,” you said, bouncing him a few times before pulling him close to your chest for a hug. “How’d he sleep?”

“Better than me, I imagine,” she chuckled, but you knew it was all in good fun. She would have the rest of the day off until the evening, now, as Din usually took the time to bond with him while you slowly integrated yourself with meetings again. Peli was only there to make sure he was comfortable during the night. She did a wonderful job as far as you were concerned, and Grogu loved having her nearby. “Ate a hefty breakfast, too.”

“Hungry little boy,” you cooed, letting him play with your fingers the way he always used to in the old house. These moments were precious, as until you’d been married and taken residence in the King suite, you all would be forced to endure separate living situations. Hopefully, since you’d finally agreed to plan the wedding, things would be easier afterwards. “Thank you, Peli. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, I know you do so well with him.”

“All part of the job, your highness,” she bowed slightly, and you gave a slight one in return, as you hated the way others lowered themselves for you. It was only right that you return the favor, a show of your respect. “I was told to pass on the message that Lady Kryze awaits you on the second balcony for tea.”

“Of course, I’ll be right on my way.”

With that, the royal nursemaid returned to her chambers, probably to get some much needed rest and sustenance.

You turned to Din with the child, whom now reached out for him with a tiny squeal of excitement. This had been the first day he was able to spend with him since the incident, other than a few minutes here and there of just a visit while he was recovering.

“I probably won’t see you until this evening, but I’ll make sure my advisor sends for you as soon as I’m through with everything,” this time you ignored the fact that there was a chaperone, and leaned upwards to peck his lips once before retreating quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you, mesh’la.”

The tea was nearly cold by the time you’d found Bo Katan. She didn’t mind, as she learned not to wait for you in these situations. You both were complete opposites, as her being the logical and precise one, and you being the free spirited and poetic one. Even still, with these differences, she considered you her closest ally, a true sister. Though you never met Satine, you believed she was probably like Bo Katan, strong and unwavering. Bo missed her other sister, but having you back was like filling an emptiness that had been there for so long.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you nearly tripped over your gown, your bare feet doing there best to recover your stance before you sat across from her. Being queen meant making your own rules. You didn’t need to wear the gaudy and dramatic outfits everyday, that was the first thing to go. Regular gowns like the ones you used to wear would do just fine for everyday life. “I was taking a stroll with Din through the courtyard.”

“I expected so,” her little slanted smile meant she hadn’t been too upset about your absence. “He seems to be well on his feet, now.”

You nodded in agreement to her statement. He was almost completely healed of his injuries, barely a scratch remained.

“He says he will feel at his best in a fortnight,” you knew she wouldn’t catch on immediately, though you didn’t want to sound too brash… perhaps you should just tell her of your plans. “I remember you said it would take that long to plan-“

“A wedding?” Her brows raised as she turned to you, not truly surprised, but a bit intrigued by the fact that it was the hunter’s suggestion. “I assumed your marriage would not take place for at least a month’s time.”

“We wished it could have been sooner, actually.”

“I see,” she responded, giving you a sideways look over her cup of tea when she took a long sip. You didn’t understand the meaning in those strange glances she would sometimes give you, but she usually explained her thoughts after giving them. “I dare to ask if consummation is the main priority?”

“Pardon?” You didn’t understand that word, and she recognized your confusion immediately, feeling the need to go further in her questioning.

“I know I could perhaps be wrong, but I figured you’d have already laid with him before.” Her glance shifted away from yours for only a moment, knowing that even though you were very different from the proper royalty she’d been raised to speak with, it may still have been a forbidden topic.

“I don’t understand your meaning,” you paused, furrowing your brows as you racked your brain for what she could possibly be saying. You were smart, you were quick on your feet, but sometimes your innocence was too much for your own good. “I laid with him at night when we slept, or I did until he had to return to his room. I don’t understand what that has to do with marriage?”

The dumbfounded look on her face would have been funny, had anyone else seen it but you. It was unassuming to you and honestly made you feel like the butt of a cruel joke. Was she really so surprised? You’d grown up in a hidden part of the forrest, living mainly on your own for eighteen years… it was bound that you weren’t going to know of all the things other children were taught of.

“You can’t be serious,” she all but muttered, trying to hold her reaction to a minimum while still being in disbelief. Never in all her years had she encountered someone so untouched by the world and yet so formed by it. You had brutally killed a man, taking his head from his shoulders and not even batting an eye… but you didn’t know what sex was? “You really don’t know?”

“Pardon me, sister… but I didn’t have the most well rounded education,” you tried to keep your anger inside, for you knew it was hard for others to come to terms with the way your mind worked, or rather, the lack of information it held sometimes. You tried your best to absorb everything at all times, but there were some things that hadn’t ever been introduced.

“I apologize, I don’t mean to mock you… I’m only surprised,” she paused again, taking a sip of her tea and gathering her thoughts. “Has you hunter not made more physical advances to you before?”

You shook your head, unsure of the full context in what she was asking, but knowing he’d never do anything to you physically or otherwise, that you were not certain of.

“He’s a good man, whatever this act is that I’m unaware of, I know he would never force it upon me.”

You spoke with such diction, with such poise. Of all the books you’d read in your lifetime, with all the fancy and refined words that were used… never had they described something known as consummation. Perhaps your kidnapper was opposed to you knowing such things. It would have made sense.

“He’s one of few, I’m afraid,” she acknowledged, heaving a deep breath and then finally meeting your eyes again. “I will not speak of this, now… but you will need to know what you’re going into before it happens.”

“I understand.”

“As for now, I need to speak with a few people, first of all Mayfeld. He will begin preparations as soon as the order is given,” she stood from her seat, her navy gown falling in billows around her feet and making her look like a goddess. “You will meet with the dress maker, a design will likely take the most time of anything.”

You followed her to the entranceway of the hall, careful not to trip again on your skirt that was flowing around you.

“I know that it’s your decision to set in stone old and new traditions for Mandalore… but in the past, the wedding gowns have always been blue, so if you’re open to suggestions, that one would be at the top of the list.”

You’d always read that wedding gowns were white in your stories… once in your favorite fairy book, there was a golden gown, worn by the fairy queen herself. You never pictured yourself in a wedding gown before you met Din, but now it was all that filled your mind. Something beautiful and romantic, and… blue. Like the sky, and the ocean, and the stunning sapphire stones on the exterior of the castle. You were sure that a blue dress would look stunning, and it went rather well with your complexion.

“I would love to wear a blue dress.”

Bo Katan had spoken with Mayfeld, along with a few of the other castle staff, before making a beeline for the library. She knew Din liked to take the child there and read most afternoons, since you weren’t able to do it with him as much these days. He was such a good father figure to the little one, as you were a good mother. Bo was certain neither of you would have any issues in raising an heir. The problem would be conceiving one, as you were so unfortunately uneducated to the point that it could hurt you.

She entered the place with a smile, greeting all those who passed her by, acknowledging them with a nod for every bow she received. She couldn’t reach her destination soon enough, as she ventured though all the booths as well as the rows and rows of books.

The hunter and the child were both sat in the very back of the library, leanings against the ornate walls while turning though the pages of a Mandalorian history book. It had years of knowledge dating all the way back to the first King of Mandalore, Tarre Vizsla. She would admit she saw the effort he was putting in to learn everything about this place. She nearly admired the way he took the time to read something of the sort. All for you, no doubt.

She cleared her throat once, causing them to both look up in unison. Din placed the child down, along with the book, and stood to his feet. His bow of respect was cut short by the hand she held out to stop him.

“I need to speak with you, alone,” she gestured to the child. He was none the wiser anyways, but still she insisted, as the subject would be rather mature for little ears to hear.

“I’m not supposed to leave him by h-“

“He will be fine, I only request a few minutes of your time.” Her voice was firm but gentle, as it most times was. Din looked back to Grogu, who had already busied himself with the task of turning to another page of the book. As far as anyone could tell, the child couldn’t even read, but enjoyed books nonetheless. Probably a result of spending hours with you while you read.

He nodded in response to her, following after her footsteps and turning into an aisle a few rows down. It was further away from any other occupants, so hopefully no one else would be listening to the conversation.

“You seem tense,” he noticed, leaning against the book case and crossing his arms. He hadn’t gotten to know the Lady Bo Katan as well as he meant to, and he had hoped he could trust her, she was after all going to be his sister in law.

“This matter is unconventional, I would rather not speak of it.” Her voice didn’t waiver, however, she made a distinct point to avoid his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should take it as a slight or if she was genuinely uncomfortable by the subject.

“Then don’t.”

She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, opening them and finally giving him a single glare as she began speaking again.

“Unfortunately, it is a matter of importance concerning the one person we both care about,” she uttered, completely and totally set on telling him. She wished she could have just checked out a book about human anatomy and given it to you, that would be far less painless… these were but mitigating circumstances. “I suggest you let me finish and do not interrupt me.” Then came another pause, and he nodded in understanding. His face seemed more softened towards her, now. Only after hearing this pertained to his fiancé, of course. “She doesn’t understand the process of consummation. I’m not even sure she knows how her own body works. She’s well aware of her cycle, but other than that, she seems completely in the dark.”

She looked to him for a reaction, but he did not have one. She thought he might be surprised or even a little peeved about the situation, but he stood still with the same dulled expression.

“Did you hear what I sai-?”

“Yes,” he stopped her, rolling his eyes and chuckling lowly under his breath. “And I know.”

“You know?” She puzzled curiously, her brows lifted as her head shifted to view him from a side angle. This man was truly a contradiction to the others she’d met in her lifetime. As far as she was aware, men were only after a woman’s virtue, her most intimate offerings and her body as well. It did not make sense that the hunter know about this innocence and keep it intact… much less try and preserve it. You were young, you were naive, and though you were smart you were also a hopeless romantic… he could have easily tricked you into letting him have his way with you, but he didn’t. He instead pushed away the thoughts of his own mind and kept you as pure as he’d found you. “How long?”

“Since the beginning,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t something to make a big deal over. He was more relaxed now that he knew he wasn’t in trouble, and that you weren’t in any danger. “When I found her, she’d never seen a man in her life… you could just look at her, and know.”

Once she gathered her bearings, and moved past the fact that he was more than aware, she stood straighter, coming up with a new topic that still related to the old and needed discussing.

“Even still… she must learn what is to happen if you ever plan on laying with her.”

Of course he did, and he’d thought about it several times before. That being said, if you weren’t ready to take that step of intimacy even on your wedding night, he would wait, and ease you into it for however long you needed. Since that first day in the woods, and then the second day in the kingdom, he knew the way with you was always going to involve baby steps. He’d never complain, nor would he try and speed the process along. Anything he had with you was worth it, even the first kiss, though clumsy and short, made him feel more than he’d ever felt for a woman he’d been with. It was because you were of pure intentions, and always were. He wanted you, badly, but whatever you chose to do with him would suffice.

“Look, I knew what I was getting myself into. I can explain it to her when-“

“No,” she cut him off immediately, as if he’d uttered a curse and she was scolding him for it. The look on her face showed her disgust, and she had to take a deep breath to help her not lash out. “That would be the most improper thing I’ve ever heard. If anyone is to tell her, it would most certainly not be you.”

He wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that she had called him out, because though he regrets a great portion of his past, he wasn’t ashamed to come from lesser circumstances, neither was he self conscious about the way he spoke so plainly. He was from a different world, but he would not be made to feel as though he didn’t belong in a place such as this, with people such as herself and you.

“Then I suppose you’ll be the one to tell her,” he sighed out, leaning forward as he stopped supporting himself on the shelf behind him. This conversation was coming to a close, and he figured the kid was probably eating the pages of that book by now, so he turned to leave, only looking back over his shoulder to give her a few last words. “Try not to make it sound like torture, alright?”

He knew that you may want to wait, or that you may not be quick to learn on what this act meant, but he sure as hell did not want you to be afraid of it, or of him. He’d never hurt you, never. The first day in your house, with your back against the wall and his arms on either side, trapping you in… he was still gentle when he touched you, unwilling to leave a mark on that lovely soft skin.

When he found the child, he was surprised to see him continuously turning the pages, landing on a space about the armor of the mandalorians. The beskar which weighed almost nothing, but was impenetrable to almost all weapons. The portrait in the book shown a tall King, one who wore the most beautiful set of silver pieces. It adorned him well, and the helmet, though confining, seemed like an honor to behold.

The child turned to him, having seen that he arrived, and pointed to the man on the page, gurgling some gibberish as Din sat back down with his small green companion.

“I gotta get me one, huh?”

Every turn you took down the halls for the next week was surrounded by preparations. All the beautiful decorations in the colors of blue and purple with hints of silver. A traditional Mandalorian wedding had not been held since your mother wed your father… that’s what everyone said, anyway.

You were sometimes sad when people mentioned your parents, only for the fact that you never knew them. You mourned over them in a different way than most did, differently than your sister did. She had told you a few stories, mostly just things her youthful mind remembered. The beautiful strawberry blonde hair of your mother, and the piercing eyes of your father. It wasn’t enough to feel a connection to them, but you tried your best to picture what they might have been like now.

Bo Katan also told you that they were brought into their marriage as an arrangement, only growing to love each other after the first year together. She explained about the expectation for rules to produce an heir, something you would have to do.

“Does this have anything to do with consummation?” You whispered until you walked through the doors of her chambers, as though you weren’t aware the contents, you figured she kept it as a hushed topic for a reason.

��It has everything to do with it, actually,” she paused, turning to her desk in which held a few books she was browsing in the past day or so. She preferred more logical books, filled with facts and reasoning, ones that could give knowledge of the useful sense. You wondered why she did not have a single story amongst them, for surely imagination kept people like her from going mad. “Speaking of which, I know you like to read. This will tell you everything you need to know.”

You received the small book with open hands, looking down to read the cover. You furrowed your brows a bit at the strange imaging they placed with the title, but kept your mind open, since you really had no idea about any of this. You would learn, though.

“Human Reproduction,” you read, raising your brows and giving a slight chuckle. She nodded, opening the cover and sifting through a few pages until she found the correct section. “Male anatomy…?”

You knew very little of this topic, but you weren’t stupid. You understood the difference between a man and a woman by all the small marble statues your kidnapper used to bring home to decorate the house in the woods. You had a very good idea of what men looked like before you ever saw one, the only problem was that Din had far exceeded your expectations… which is why you were afraid of him at first. The look you shot her made her believe that perhaps you weren’t so naive that this would all be shocking to you. It was almost a weight off her shoulders, really.

“Alright, then start here,” she flipped to another section, pointing to the page and letting you glance over it.

“Process of begetting, and the seed of life.” You would admit this was a new one. You always wondered how women came to be with child, and how you might possibly one day as well. The first page seemed filled with information, along with some helpful images to help explain. You looked back to her with a smile and a short nod before taking the book and walking towards the door.

“Oh, and one more thing?” She called to you, and you turned back around, awaiting her final words before you walked out into the castle halls once more. “I want you to know that I think greatly of your hunter, and I’m glad he found you.”

You smiled to her, unable to stop the wide spread of your grin as Din was mentioned. Someone of high status, a true royal raised and taught what was proper and what wasn’t. She thought well of him, someone whom others might see as that which is beneath them.

“Thank you, sister,” you spoke, addressing her by the title you’d taken to calling her lately. You practically skipped out of the room, turning down halls and running barefoot through the castle until you found the large window nook, with a comfortable seat and a fantastic view. Other than the beautiful couch in your quarters, this had become your favorite place to read.

The introduction was short, and this specific chapter simply dove right in to the act itself. The next page was rigidly long, and had several drawings to help your mind understand… though it was all very frightening to grasp at first. Your eyes widened and you had to drag them away from those pictures and back to the top of the page in order to read what you were supposed to.

“Sexual Intercourse is the basis for all human reproduction,” you read off the first sentence, sighing in defeat when you realized what this meant. That scary drawing on the page of a man entering a woman was something you would have to recreate if you were to get pregnant and produce an heir. It frightened you, and you started breathing heavily while thinking about it until you slammed the book closed, taking some deep breaths and focusing on looking out the window. You could even see Din on his way back from the city, walking though the gates with Grogu in his arms. They had been doing so well together, and you knew that should you ever become pregnant and have a child, Din would make an amazing father… it was only the process of conception that was making you feel eerie.

Why couldn’t Grogu just be considered the heir? You claimed him as your son, and so did Din… so why was there going to be pressure on you to have a baby when there was a perfectly good one in your possession. True, he was of a different species, and true, he aged far slower than that of a human… but in the future he could eventually learn the ways of the kingdom.

You hated that this act of sexual intimacy scared you, because the book had called it something of a miracle, a process of which could bring actual life, and yet? You wanted no part of it.

Perhaps it only seemed scary because of the way it was shown to you, and maybe if Din could tell you more, you would feel better. He had surely done this many times, and could help you come to terms with all the aspects. You wondered why you did not just go to him in the first place. He knew you were innocent, he wouldn’t have judged you or made you feel foolish for not knowing of such things. He’d always been so patient to show you everything before.

You reopened the book to the page you were on, leaning back against the window and using the light to read more. You would do all the reading just to make sure you understood it correctly, then tonight you would ask Din. You only hoped you would be able to sneak into his room, as guards in the castle have been stationed closer to your room at night than usual.

Once you finished the section, you went on about your day, trying to keep everything but the welfare of the kingdom pushed to the very back of your mind.

It was all a haze of rushed meetings, people wanting or needing to be in other places throughout the remainder of the day. You met with the dress maker, too… but she was certain you had become distracted only minutes into sitting down with her. Your eyes kept traveling about the room when she spoke, and not because you were ignoring her, far from it actually. You wished you could listen and hear of all the plans she was making for the gown you both had discussed. The beautiful design had been sketched onto parchment for you to view, and looked exquisite, but she could tell your mind was elsewhere when you complimented her work, normally you were much more enthusiastic and excited.

“What troubles you, your highness?”

You looked up at her from the page to see her concerned gaze. You weren’t sure if this was a topic you should share with just anyone, as Bo Katan had been so hushed about it prior to giving you the book.

“I’m just nervous, I suppose,” you began, an anxious smile forming to try and deflect from your actual stress over the matter. “I’ve never been married before.”

She chuckled, nodding along as she realized what you must have meant.

“Being a young bride such as yourself, it’s perfectly normal to experience cold feet.”

“Cold feet?” You slanted a brow, tilting your head to convey that you didn’t understand.

“It’s just an expression, darling. It simply means that you are frightened about something before it happens… but have no worries,” she took your hand, giving it a small squeeze of encouragement before letting it go. “I can tell you are in love with your intended, it’s that special shine in your eyes.”

You breathed out a soft laugh, smiling with a red glow on your cheeks. Oh, did you love him, but that was not the problem in all of this. You could not wait for your duties to be completed, the anxiety was built in the pit of your stomach.

“I am in love with him,” you responded gently, handing her back her sketches to pin up on the board beside her. It also had a few fabric swatches, and tiny gems that you assumed would be attached to the dress in some way.

“Then all will be well.”

You certainly hoped so, it was circling your mind on a loop that never seemed to end, even later that evening after everything had been completed, and the royals parted off to their rooms. You were sat at your vanity, whilst your favorite handmaiden Elise tended to your hair, raking through it with a comb to rid it of all the tangles provided by the long day. She sensed your tense nature, and you could tell, as she gave you slightly concerned glances in the mirror from time to time. You were only happy that she did not ask about anything, for that would only make it worse. Every person who tried to make you feel better about this upcoming union had inadvertently stirred the pot of your emotions further.

Once she left you to your bed chambers, you waited as many minutes as you could, for though you knew it was risky to leave early, you couldn’t help yourself but leave. You wrapped yourself in a thin dressing gown, tucking the book under your arm before carefully heading out into the halls. You were never heard upon the marble floors, as you were the only royal who refused to wear shoes all hours of the day. It made for an easy journey, uninterrupted by curious guards or even others who heard racket outside of their rooms.

The moon was high in the sky, shining through the stain glass windows and creating brilliant colors to be painted upon the ground. The ambience of the castle late at night was something so pleasing, so soothing, and the cold marble beneath your feet helped to cool off whatever heat you’d retained from your overwhelming stress. You reached the door quickly, laying two soft knocks on the wood and backing up to wait.

Din had been with Grogu until nightfall, handing him off to Peli before heading back to his living space. It was well known by now that he had been the thief to steal the darksaber, and though it now rested in the hands of the rightful ruler by his doing, he still got quite a few stingy looks here and there by staff and other court members. There were a lot of people that had come to love you as Queen, but they were very weary of your choice for a partner. Some couldn’t even bare to think that he was actually going to receive a consort title.

He bore all the hateful glares within the castle willingly, because to him, things hadn’t changed much since when he was only a commoner. People passing him by on the streets, seeing the infamous masked figure roaming about their town, they would send the same looks his way as these pristine upperclass living castle dwellers.

He hoped that it might wear off eventually. It never bothered him, but he didn’t want to live his whole life as an outcast. He had every right to be here, just like all the othe just like you. You’d told him so time and time again, that he was as princely as it could possibly get. He was so handsome, with a rugged charm that could get him out of anything. His eyes were like entire galaxies, darkness in the irises, but with hints of light reflecting off them as stars. These were the descriptions of him from your eyes, and he’d like to believe they were true. He loved to know that even if he didn’t see himself this way, someone did, and loved him all the same.

He sat back onto his bed, his back hurting suddenly as these thoughts racked through his brain. He wanted to seem perfectly fine, like his healing was complete and this wedding could happen even sooner, but he could not lie. His bones still ached, and his muscles felt weaker than before. He reached up behind his head, yanking his shirt off before standing again and going to the mirror in the corner of his room. He never had a mirror like this. Never was he concerned with his looks or even how others perceived him. He had always worn a mask, anyway. Now that he had a looking glass in his room, he always felt more self-conscious about what stared back at him. In comparison to you, he felt he was but little. Especially now that he could see clearly all the scars on his body. Someone so tainted as himself didn’t deserve to be with someone so pure, so perfect. Your skin was untouched, clean of any altercations.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the most meek sounding knock at his door. It rung only twice, and he rushed over to answer it knowing who had come so late.

There you stood, looking so soft and angelic. Your dressing gown was almost sheer, and the nightgown made of silk left little to the imagination, but he caught the look of uncertainty in your eyes and was instantly more concerned about what you came for than how you came dressed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to send for you earlier, I skipped dinner in the great hall to meet with the dressmaker,” you explained, hoping he would understand and that all was forgiven. He didn’t even see any wrongs in what you’d done, though.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, sweet girl,” he opened the door further, allowing you to step inside. He did notice the glazed state your eyes held when you glanced down at his chest. It was much easier to see his body in this lighting than it had been in the dungeon. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

You smiled, waiting for him to shut the door and meet you on the bed, where you so conveniently took your place up by his pillows. He had yet to notice the book you came accompanied by, and now that you were here, you were worried to even bring it up.

“Din?”

He nodded in response, letting you know he was listening to every word, and sat beside you atop the duvet. His skin looked so warm and inviting in this light, it was almost straining you to keep from laying a finger upon his shoulder and dragging it down the expanse of his chest.

“I just,” you couldn’t find the right words, and also had a bit of trouble in meeting his eyes. It was only when he brought his thumb to your chin, lifting your face until you met his eyeline. “I have a few things to ask you, about this book.”

He furrowed his brows, finally realizing what you’d clutched tightly to your body this whole time. He held his hands out to take it, and you willingly handed it over, feeling good to be rid of it for once this day.

He read the cover and immediately let out a sigh. Bo Katan had taken the easy route, not even trying to sit you down and explain it in her own words. No wonder you looked so scared, the words in this book had probably already planted a bad image in your mind about what this act was, and how it was to be done. He was quite furious at the fact that Lady Kryze had one job to do, and she shoved it off on a book.

“How much did you read?” He turned back to you with a soft gaze, unsure how he should go about this. There weren’t exactly instructions for this conversation.

“Almost all of it,” you admitted, your voice was unsure, and the inflections told him you didn’t like what you read. It was clear on your face, you despised the book he held. “I came to you because I wondered if perhaps you could tell me more… like if it will be painful, or if I need to do anything to-“

“Slow down, mesh’la…” he trailed off, bringing his hands to your shoulders and trying to help you calm yourself. You hadn’t realized how much you breathing had changed in only a second.

“I’m afraid of it,” you let out, being able to take slow breaths now and focus on the way he held you steady, keeping you grounded.

This was what he had been scared of in the beginning. If only he had just ignored Bo Katan’s wishes and told you after she approached him, you probably would view everything differently.

“It’s okay,” he nodded, acknowledging your fear before scooting closer to you and doing his best to fix what has been done. “I know it looks scary, and you don’t need to feel pressured to do anything until you’re ready to do it, I promise.”

“But I have obligations, we have to produce an heir.”

This sentence worried him. Not only were you so scared of having sex that you didn’t even want to do it for the reason it was intended, but you already felt pressured by others to conform and go through with it. You already felt like you would be a disappointment if you didn’t.

“We don’t need to worry about that right now. Listen to me, alright? It’s up to you to set boundaries, and it’s up to me to make sure those boundaries are upheld, understand?” His hand had found its way to your cheek, and your nod gave him a bit of peace, knowing there was still more work to do. “And I know that it seems like torture, I’ve seen books like this, they take all the good parts out and only leave the stuff that scares people.”

“It just seems like a horribly painful thing to do,” you opened the book, unashamedly showing him the drawings you’d been flipping to all day. The page was well worn by now, and easy to find. He wasn’t surprised by your openness to look upon such things with him, because he knew you were unaware of the proper standards of them.

“Yes, well I can understand why you would think that,” he gave a face of disgust to the poorly done drawing, the basic positioning of the people in it and the awkward way they were entangled. The look on the woman’s face didn’t help, either.

“You’ve done this many times, haven’t you?” You weren’t concerned with the other women who may have been in this position with him, only because you knew that he was no longer in connection with them, only you.

“Not like that, no.”

You furrowed your brows, waiting for him to explain. He seemed to have a much different view, and you hoped you would have a chance to see it his way.

“I won’t lie to you, sweet girl… it might hurt the first time.” He avoided your eyes, because just thinking about causing you pain, even inadvertently, didn’t feel right to him. It twisted his stomach, to think that in order to pleasure you, he would first have to hurt you. “But it can feel really good, too.”

“It can feel good?” You almost looked shocked. You glanced back to the book and then to his face, almost cringing at the drawing that was forever burned in your mind. “I just… don’t know how it could. Even the precautions taken for my monthly cycles are painful.”

He nodded, trying to ease this idea into your mind as gently as possible. He cursed Bo Katan for ever giving you that book. She knew you liked to read, but this wasn’t information that should have been passed along through pages.

“I know, but there are ways that I can help you relax. I can even go down on you, if you want,” he said, but knew as soon as the words left his lips that you would have no idea what he was talking about. Your tilted head while looking at him with slanted eyes told him to try again, in different words. “It’s something else that I can do to make you feel good.”

You wondered if since this wasn’t technically part of the sexual reproduction process, that he might be able to show you.

“Can we try it now?”

His brows raised and he dropped his jaw momentarily before shaking off his initial shock and looking back to your innocent expression. He took your hand in his, holding it tightly and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m not sure if we should, mesh’la.”

He wasn’t repulsed by the idea, and he knew that since everyone was in bed this was the perfect opportunity. He was however afraid of what volumes may be heard from the room.

“Please?” You practically begged, looking at him with the purest expression on your face. “If there’s something I can do for you, too, I’ll do it. I want to learn how…”

Several months ago this would have been like a dream to him, having a willing girl who wanted him to show her all that sex had to offer. Now, though… in this very room where you both sat so close together on his bed, he was nervous. He’d never been nervous to have intimate relations with someone before, and he realized it was because he cared so much. He didn’t want to do anything wrong and make you resent him. He loved you to the moon and back, and though he longed to please you, he was hesitant.

“We’ll be married in a few days, I promise I’ll show you then, alright?”

“Alright.”

You flipped up the covers on his bed, sliding in on the side you most preferred, looking at him to do the same. Sleeping beside you was one thing he’d never object to, and he knew that since the death of Gideon, there was no need to hide the fact that you were together in the night. You were queen, and could do as you wished. He pulled your body close to his once he’d gotten settled, and kissed the crown of your head. The best thing that had ever happened to him was you, and of course, the kid. He can’t even imagine having a life without you in it, because it would probably only be more hunting and thievery, his old ways that he hoped to forget. You were his everything, you had saved him from an eventual death sentence, rather it be by Gideon or others, he knew if you hadn’t been there, he would have at some point been killed.

He let these thoughts circle his mind as you both drifted off into slumber, forgetting all about the horrid book that fell on the floor.

The afternoon of your wedding, you paced back and forth around the room, complaining about the rules that had been set in place ahead of time. You wore a chemise and corset, waiting for the rest of your dress to be brought to the room. Your hair and face were done earlier, and having to wait long periods of time in between made you even more nervous.

“I don’t understand why I’m not allowed to see him,” you ranted on towards Bo Katan, sitting in the corner of the room, already wearing her silver gown and trying to take a sip of her tea. “Only a few minutes would help.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to keep them on the small tray of good brought to the room a few minutes prior. You hadn’t stopped moving the entire day, a relentless ball of energy that bounced like rubber.

“It’s a tradition to keep the bride away from the groom until the wedding. You yourself thought it would be a good idea as of yesterday,” she reminded, noting the conversation of how everything would go. Yesterday was the last of the preparations, and this morning you awoke with nothing to do… that was part of the problem. You didn’t have any way to keep busy and now your feet were getting cold… literally. The marble beneath your bare feet felt like ice at the moment, hence your constant movement. “It’s only going to be another hour or two, so sit down and breath. You’re giving me a headache.”

She wanted to act like your behavior annoyed her, but even you caught the slight smirk on her face when she spoke to you. She was enjoying these moments, together as sisters, but more importantly, as friends.

“He’s probably doing the same thing I am, and Grogu won’t exactly help him calm down.”

She set her tea cup down on the small circular table, and stood up from the seat. She wanted to keep everyone’s composure, but you seemed to be falling apart right now, as it were.

“Do you love him?”

You furrowed your brow, unsure of what she was getting at, before nodding rapidly. “Yes, of course I do.”

“And do you want to marry him?” Her next question made you even more confused. What did this have to do with your nerves?

“More than anything.”

“Then keep your mind on that. Keep thinking about how excited you are to see him when you walk down that aisle.”

It was sound advice, and while thinking about it, you noticed you’d finally stopped pacing around the room, stood in one place. A knock sounding on the door brought you out of your thoughts, and you raced to open in, mindless of who might be standing there.

“Your highness, I was-“ Advisor Mayfeld stopped his words short upon seeing your current state of dress, eyes widening and wandering before he snapped out of it and lowered his gaze to the ground. It was widely known around the castle that you did not carry a sense of modesty when it came to things such as this. You thought of it as silly that a woman need cover up even more than you were now, unless she really wanted to. If you didn’t love galavanting through the castle halls in the flowing skirts and dresses, you would probably live life in your undergarments, or they were really all you needed. Mayfeld took in a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of what he’d seen. “The dressmaker is brining your garments, I told her I would make sure you’d been prepped… and as I’ve already seen, you are in fact prepped.”

You chuckled, taking the dressing robe from off the chair and wrapping it around your body for his sake. He was rather shy until you did so, and now that he saw the fabric swinging by your feet, he was able to finally look up.

“Thank you, Miggs… I have appreciated all your service today. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” you told him, a sweet smile appearing on your cheeks. He was so kind to do so many of the things he did for you, and you felt in his debt for it all.

“For me? I couldn’t ask for anything, your highness. Only that you are happy on this day.”

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, pulling away for see a blush spread across his face. He looked as if he wasn’t sure what to do, now. You thought you would spare him from having to figure it out himself.

“How is Din? Has he been anxious like me?” Your tone was rather playful, but you were very serious. You hoped he was alright, that there was no chance of him backing out. Truly, you knew he would never do that… but the doubtful part of you remembered his past, free of commitments and with the ability to go wherever he wanted.

You watched as Mayfeld’s face turned comical, and he almost laughed if it weren’t for the fact that he had an answer on the tip of his tongue.

“Anxious is not a good enough word, I’m afraid,” he bit his lip between sentences to keep hold of the laughter. “I’ve never seen the poor man so high strung.”

You understood now that Din was not nervous about commitment, or being with you, but about the anticipation of it all. Just as you were having to reel yourself into reality one moment at a time, you thought that maybe Din would have to do the same. You only hoped that Grogu was being helpful and not a tiny terror for him to deal with additionally.

Since the door was already open, the team of dress handlers and the maker herself walked through and into the room. They all marveled at you for a few moments before shooing Mayfeld into the hall and closing the door. The dress was in so many pieces, it was hard to keep up with what they were showing you.

You tried to nod along as if you understood half of what they were saying, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. Bo tried to keep her giggles of amusement to herself, but even she couldn’t help it… it was too happy of a day to keep everything inside for once.

The order of the dress layers went as follows: A small crinoline with scalloped ruffles hanging off the ends, a giant elliptical caged hoop-skirt, three layers of floor length petticoats that featured over two hundred yards of gathered flounces, two white underskirts, a mystical pearlized skirt layer, a lilac silk layer, a teal silk layer, and a soft transparent blue layer, topped with the shiniest, smallest gemstones you could ever imagine. Lastly came the beautiful bodice, of which had a narrow waistline, and a beautiful soft bertha across the shoulders to broaden your frame. It had tiny butterflies hand sewn into each tuck of fabric, and looked absolutely exquisite.

They ushered you towards the mirror, making you to look at yourself in the full wedding day glory they had achieved. You were speechless. You grew up reading fairytales about princesses and fairies, magical beings with dresses unlike no other. They always seemed like radiant angels when you read about them, you pictured them that way, too. Now, you couldn’t even believe your eyes. You had become a real life fairytale, in every way. This would be your magical wedding day, and the prince on the other side was your dream come true. He was beautiful, and held so much gentility in his large and capable body. You’d never know the things he was capable of by watching him, for his acts of sweetness were like that of a young school boy. You loved him so, and hoped he would like this dress as much as you did.

“I’ve never felt more beautiful in all my life,” you nearly cried, a small bit of fogginess coming to your eyes. “I am certain I will wear this dress until the last possible second.”

“We are so glad you’re pleased, dearest,” the dress maker came to you and took your hand into her own. “Your hunter is sure to be astonished.”

You smiled at her statement, and otherly at the way she mentioned Din as the hunter. Everyone still called him that, even though after today he was a prince consort. He would wear the title of royalty, and be your right hand at the throne. He would help you through all the trials of being a monarch, and he would do good for the people of this kingdom, you were sure of it.

You took a trial spin around the room, catching the beauty of the dress in the mirror. It sparkled like diamonds and moved like a watercolor painting.

“Your highness, we must be leaving soon, your carriage has arrived.”

You turned to the woman with a smile, nodding and beginning to follow her along with everyone else down the halls. It took two people to load you into the carriage once you got to it. The only other person allowed in was your sister, and even that was frowned upon, but by no means were you going to arrive by your lonesome. You were already as nervous as one can possibly be, and being alone on the journey to the grand church would have been all too much.

Looking out the window, you could have sworn you saw the outline of another carriage identical to this one, which was parked in place outside the grand entrance. Din was already here, and would be waiting at the altar for your arrival. Given the amount of other transportation outside, you were positive that the number of guests was rather large…. But the anticipation of finally being here, so close to seeing your love. It was as exciting as it was calming, and you prepared to disembark from the carriage as the doors were opened. “Watch the step, your majesty,” Mayfeld came to your side and met you by the opening, giving you a hand as the dress came spilling out of the carriage. He hadn’t seen the dress until now, and with you wearing it, he was entranced for a moment. “You look lovely…”

“Thank you, I feel lovely,” you spoke through a wide grin, feeling as though it was going to be a regular occurrence throughout the night. He had a red tint to his cheeks while interacting with you, and you weren’t sure why, but he seemed happy to be in your presence at least.

“It’s just right this way,” he offered his arm, but Bo Katan jumped in front of you, and you realized you’d forgotten something.

“Our florist would be in shambles if you left these in the carriage.”

Of course, your bouquet of white roses, the tips of the petals dyed blue to match your dress. Everything had been orchestrated so well, and you were in awe of everyone’s wonderful talents.

“Good luck,” she murmured, going on ahead of you and entering first.

Walking up the steps to the door, you heard the music begin to play. It was melodious and welcoming, and the second you were to be seen, everyone rose from their seats. It was intimidating as first, and made your blood run cold… until you saw him. Standing at the end of the pathway, all decked out in princely garb. He was stunning, but in your eyes, he always was. You locked eyes and from that moment, everything melted away. The people were gone from the room, and the music was only a faint echo in your mind. There was nothing now that could separate the two of you, and as you reached the end of the aisle you understood why. Your connection was strong, stronger than the force you held, and stronger than the past that kept you apart for so long.

He had tears in his eyes, and tried to blink them away as he took your hands in his. You handed your flowers to Bo, who’d stood beside you to your left.

“You’re so beautiful, sweet girl…”

You tried your best to keep yourself composed, as tears would surely ruin the hard work that was put into your face today… but you should have known you couldn’t help it when it came to him.

“And you look so handsome, my love,” you responded with, though it turned into a whisper at the end. He gave your hand a squeeze and and raised it to his lips for a kiss.

You both turned to face the front, and the minister began his long spiel.

“Marriage! Marriage is what brings us together today…”

After the service, everyone returned to the castle to retire for the evening. As per Mandalorian tradition, it was custom for the reception of the wedding to happen the day after the ceremony. It would then last a duration of two entire days while the newlyweds accepted gifts from neighboring kingdoms. Though tired from the day, you excitedly dragged Din by the hand through the halls to your new living quarters.

The King’s suite was even more magnificent than you imagined it would be, with the elaborate decor that well reflected the culture of this kingdom while also being comfortable and sooting. It was a beautiful blue and gold combination, the contrast in color was strong but it suited the beauty of the room.

Your dress was chasing behind you as you ran to the center of the suite and tossed yourself onto your back, sprawling out across the feather soft bed. You barely took up a quarter of the mattress, even with your monumentally sized gown. Your fit of giggles and love-crazy sighs were heard echoing across the room, and as Din closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but smile at his beautiful, happy girl.

“You look comfortable,” he chided, sitting down onto the bed beside you and leaning over to stroke his fingers through your hair. You beamed up at him, your husband, the man whom at first had just stumbled into the worst possible hiding place in the entire world. Now he calls you his wife, and there’s nothing else you’d rather be.

“I would be if I could get this dress off. It’s gorgeous, but I don’t think it’s the best attire for bed.”

You sat up and reached behind you to start taking off the layers, but your hands couldn’t even reach the hooks on the back of the bodice. Damn be the beautiful, puffy bertha, which stood in the way of your shoulder’s full movement.

“Can you help me?” You turned to him, his face was hiding a smirk, and you could tell he found your struggle amusing.

“I think you almost had it,” he chided, a chuckle evident in his tone. You stopped what you were doing and faced him, moving the layers of your dress aside to sit partially on his lap. His expression changed almost immediately when you took his hands in yours, placing them on the back of your bodice. You looked him straight in the eyes, wanting him to understand your meaning in ridding yourself of the dress.

“Take it off.”

He hesitated… he’s never done that before.

“Mesh’la, are you sure?” He was so unsure of himself, afraid to make a wrong move or to scare you somehow.

“I am, I promise,” you whispered, leaning close to him and capturing his lips with your own, just like you’d done a hundred times before.

It was passionate, but it was easy after that… he slowly and expertly stripped away each layer, going back and forth and allowing you to do the same for him every time to make sure everything was comfortable for you. You misunderstood why you’d been so nervous in the days before, as now this act of love felt like it would be the best part of your life together… and oh how simple it was coming to you, the feel of him was something foreign but somehow familiar. Like you’d done it before, although you never had. Once you were bare of everything but your corset and chemise, he took his time in gently unlacing the material at your back, loosing it enough to unclasp the busk at your front. He tossed the corset to the ground with everything else, and one by one slid the straps of your chemise over your shoulders. He’s seen you in multiple states of undress before, but nothing could have prepared him for what you body looked like in its purest form.

He laid you back against the bed, being careful to maneuver himself around you as he removed his final undergarment. You spared only one glance downwards, trying to keep your eyes with his. They calmed you, and made you feel at peace.

“Can we try what you mentioned before?” You asked curiously, your mind wandering back to the conversation of a few nights prior. It was something he’d not soon forgotten, and it would be his pleasure to give you what you wanted.

“Of course, my love,” he leaned down and stole a quick kiss, before trailing his lips down the expanse of your body, the touch ever so ghostly and light. “Tap my shoulder if you want me to stop.”

You wondered why there could possibly be a reason to stop. Everything he’d done so far has given you the best feelings in the world.

Lowering his head closer to your heat, he exhaled, the warm wind of his breath shooting a tingling sensation through you. You instinctually wove your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep on. He went on to slowly lick a stripe up your center, and instantly you were on cloud nine. You were helpless to stop any sound that escaped you from now on.

He held a gentle hand over your hips, to stop them from bucking unintentionally, then he went back again, more ferociously this time. He used his mouth and tongue to further your pleasure, using his other hand to introduce a finger to your entrance.

“Din,” your sigh of his name was like a melody in his mind, and he used it as motivation.

You were so sensitive, it was unreal.

“Tell me how it feels, mesh’la..”

“Feels..” you momentarily trailed off, trying to grab ahold of any words that you could still speak. “Feels amazing.”

When he felt you begin to clench around his finger, he continued faster with his pace, ready to see what it was like when you let it all go. He was addicted to hearing you, and feeling you in this state. So angelic, so perfect, and all for him.

You squeezed the fistful of his hair in your fingers, feeling it all become undone within your body, with a wave of relief and a sensation of bliss washing over you.

Immediately he was back over you, watching with intent and helping you to ride out that luxurious feeling. It was something you felt like chasing again, but this time you needed him to feel that same ecstasy, needed to see him in this blissed out state you felt surround you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back for a kiss that tasted ever so slightly like salt.

His hold on you was so gentle, so delicate. He knew for a fact that you were not made of glass, but his subconscious may have lead his hands to believe that you were. He handled you with such care and utter devotion. This was his way of showing your effect on him… the way you made him lose his aggression and rough exterior, call it weakness, or call it true strength.

He positioned you in a way that he thought would be the most secure, your head resting on his forearm which he’d slipped beneath. He kept the other hand against the bed to brace himself, finally resting his hips between your spread legs. He was careful not to make any sudden movements, as now when you got close to the act itself, you seemed to show how anxious you really were over it. He wasn’t by any means a small man, and that fact alone was scary to think about. Your arms, though still wrapped around his neck for warmth, had nearly begun trembling against him.

“Tell me to stop, Mesh’la…”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I need this… need to do this with you.”

He wasn’t sure if there was a pressure you felt, and he wanted to know if perhaps that was the case. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to him in this sense. This was something he craved for you to enjoy, and if you couldn’t, then he didn’t want any part in it.

“You don’t need to,” he paused, taking a breath and trying to calm himself down from the daze you’d put him into only moments ago. “Not if you don’t want you.”

Without missing a beat, you used one of your hands to make him look at you, to have him focus all of his attention on your eyes.

“I do want this, only with you.”

He saw that glint of sincerity in your eyes, it told him you were in this the whole way, and you were only nervous of how it would go. Truth be told, he was, too. He wanted nothing more than to make love to you all through the night and into the morning, but the speed of which it would have to take place could not be rushed.

He nodded, looking back down to where your bodies were almost joined, using his hand to guide himself towards your heat. You had ached for him by now, but once he stretched you open even the slightest bit, you squeezed your eyes closed, letting one hand befall the bed to clench the sheets in your fist. Of all the physical pain you bore in your life, you didn’t expect this to be as bad as it was.

Din stopped his movements and whispered soft words to you.

“Hey, open those eyes.” His voice was quiet, and soothing, “just look at me, alright? Keep those pretty eyes on me, sweet girl.”

You forced your gaze to his, focusing on the dark brown pools of bliss you’d fallen so deeply in love with. You were able to even your breathing, though it wasn’t until now that you realized it had been out of sorts. You reached the hand that had fallen, placing it at the side of his face. It was a grounding action, and helped to numb the slight pain that still pulsed. He turned his head to kiss your palm, his eyes closing as he savored the small and seemingly insignificant moment in all of this.

“Take a deep breath in,” he instructed quietly. He was so good to help you find the best way of experiencing such a thing. Though he regrets all of the meaningless conquests of his past, you were quite thankful for them, now. It was through his years of experience that you were now being well taken care of. “Breath out.”

As soon as you exhaled, he gently slid in further, nearly bottoming out within the pit of your stomach. He was restraining every muscle in his body from giving even the slightest thrust, because you just weren’t ready yet. He had to bury his face into your neck, softly biting the flesh to try and keep a sense of control. You whimpered at the feeling of his lips on your skin again, as well as the feeling of fullness you’d yet to experience until this moment.

“Keep breathing, love,” he staggered out into the spot behind your ear. He was well on his way by now, and the little sounds you made while he simply laid here with you like this, not even moving yet… it was driving him crazy. He’d had dozens of women in his chambers late at night, but never did he love them, and that was the difference. That was the reason he was so hellbent on making you feel everything good, and to hell with whatever he got out of it.

“Kiss me?” You asked him sweetly, eyes trying to meet his, though his face was still nestled into the confines of you shoulder and neck. He did not let your request go unanswered. Kissing you was one of the things he liked doing best. His lips were so swollen, but then again, yours must have been, too.

He couldn’t help the small movement of his hips retreating and sinking back in, it was too natural of a movement, and you felt so good around him. He was a victim of remaining still for too long.

You tensed up, slightly unsure of the unexpected movement, and he backed away several inches from you in fear that he may have caused some pain unintentionally.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking aside and holding himself still once more for a time indefinite. This was supposed to be slow, and he felt that even just rushing one part of it could ruin everything. He wanted it to be perfect, because you were perfect… damn him if he should tarnish that.

“Do it again.” Your whispered command hit his ears like music. He focused back on your face, seeing the lust form in your eyes. He’d never seen that glaze before, but it looked good on you.

Who was he to deny you? He slowly withdrew once before he gave a slight thrust this time, testing the waters of what you could handle. If your heavy breathing was any indication, only being interrupted by little noises of pleasure, he’d say you were taking it very well. After a few more slow movements, he found a rhythm that seemed to have just fallen over his hips naturally. He had never known pleasure like this before, where all he had to do was look at you and it spread through him like wildfire.

He escalated his pace only slightly, taking note of every expression change on your face. When he noticed the blissed out look wash over you, he understood how good he was making you feel, and that drove him closer to a high he had been building up to for weeks, now. He captured your lips in a kiss that lasted only a second, and pressed his forehead to yours thereafter.

“You’re doing so good f’me, mesh’la,” he choked out, leaning on his one arm while moving the other down by your hip. He massaged the skin slowly, kneading it and letting it slightly redden beneath his fingers. He wanted to touch you everywhere, all at once… to feel your entire being and to worship it in its entirety.

He didn’t even realize how fast his speed picked up until he could hear the sound of his hips repeatedly hitting yours. It wasn’t rough, and it wasn’t hard, but it was fast, and getting faster. Your cries of needing release were left from your lips, though you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on the sounds you made, only the grunts and groans and whispers falling from the mouth of your lover.

“Taking me so good, sweet girl… so good.”

“Din…” You were like putty in his hands, and the knot in your stomach that was closer to unraveling was making you feel like you were at the edge of another release. You wanted it, needed it, badly.

“I know you’re close, my love.”

He was on the verge of his own high, but chased yours first. He gathered your knee into his hand that straggled down by your hip, hoisting it up and over his back in order to give you a new sensation, the angle he thrusted into now caused a shaky whimper to leave your parted lips. Your lower half started shaking, and your hips involuntarily bucked into him for more. You weren’t even sure you had control over it, but it helped to get you even further towards the release.

It was like fire burning in the pit of your core, aching and begging to be extinguished. He leaned back down towards your ear, and you could hear every little sound he made. Every little grunt or gasp or breath was right there, and it caused something in you to snap.

All at once you felt a relief in your body, washing over you in the most pleasure you felt you could ever know. It was euphoric, and purely bliss. You clung to Din, digging your fingertips into his back and shoulders while you breathed shakily on the way down from the elation. Not long after did he jerk his hips forward once more, spilling out a warmth within you that felt heavenly. He held you like you were his lifeline, the very air that he breathed.

He’d never been so satisfied before. This was everything he ever needed and more.

“You’re amazing, y’know?”

You looked to see his smile, and by chain reaction, you began to smile as well. He was so pretty like this, his tan skin all covered with a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was messy and curls hung down in his face. He was a vision of loveliness, and he was all for you. Your husband, the wonderful treasure of your life.

”I love you, Din Djarin,” you spoke with just a breath, removing a curl from his eyes.

“And I love you… the most beautiful girl in all the world.”

Tags:

@i-ameri-cant@littlemisspascal@fanfics-toread@icanbeyourjedi@castleallherown@mysticalgalaxysalad @princess-prettyy @67impalagirl13@agingerindenial@childrenofthewatch@insomniac-nerd-posts-things@marjoherbo@juletheghoul-main@tiredbuthappy@themand0lorian@janebby@goldielocks2004@yuiopiklmn @oh-no-who-am-i @appleejuice @luxmundee @belovedadam @seninjakitey @harriedandharassed @notsosecretspy

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin royalty!au #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x princess!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #grogu

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lana-llama-in-pajamas · 27 days

Text

Your not 12 anymore

I know it’s a sus title you’ll get it Jebus.

Chapter 1

Cameras flashed as you smiled and posed, distant pop played as more people joined you holding you close and sticking their tongues out and laughing. It felt like a dream hazy and euphoric, a gorgeous woman pulled you away holding you close as she lead you to a room full of dancing and the pop music you heard getting louder “damn, I think the coke is getting to you” she yelled “next time don’t let Lana pressure you too much ok?” She held you close again making sure your body movements matched hers, she was right but that’s the life of a pornstar no?

“What’s your current body count?” A bald douche asked waiting to make a point stared at you and a few of the girls that were at the party a few days ago “maybe we should start with how much you paid all of us to be here. Since you lied about not having to pay for women” you said blank faced as the girls giggled making him stare daggers at you “listen here FEMALE. Your low value and that’s the only reason you’re being paid” he lowkey yells trying to control the narrative and himself “next time pay us more than 500. Byyee” you got up, the other girls followed as a hurl of insults were thrown by the red pill and his goonies.

“Omg I’ve never walked out of one of those things before” one girl laughed hugging her friend “his fault for paying us first” you explained walking to your car “dumbass” jona yelled back towards the dinky office were the podcast was held, you and jona got in your car still laughing and waving to the others before driving off “wanna go eat?” You asked focused on the road while jona turned up the speakers “ugh I wish but I have a shoot tomorrow so all I’m eating is salad, tell you what when it’s over let’s gorge on sushi” she said excitedly clasping her hands together “I’m down. I gotta do a video tonight actually” you sighed.

You finally got to the rented mansion getting out with a duffle bag “y/n! You made it!” A muscle bro went to hug you, “names chad, been in the game 4 years” (haha funny), the ‘game’ was what everyone called the industry. It made it less awkward, . You walked in together Chad going on and on about whatever, you genuinely didn’t care you saw him as a check and he probably saw you as the same. The mansion was amazing, the ceiling was so high you had to turn your head all the way to see the top. the front door lead to the living room where you could see cameras wires and boom mics, an old man walked over in a baseball hat, matching shirt and jeans "ah the stars, heres ya scripts. go get ready and come down so we can talk more and start, bathrooms upstairs are all yours" his voice was gruff as he winked at you, you nodded not wanting to give him any indication that you hated or enjoyed it. chad turned to you happy as can be "you wanna brain storm ideas while you do your makeup?" you turned and walked up the stairs sighing "sure chad" he followed like a puppy setting his stuff at the door as you walked in placing your makeup bag down "your gonna..sit on the floor?" you asked sitting at the vanity seeing chad avoid the inside of the bathroom as he sat at the door "just wanna give you space" he looked up from his script, it almost made you smile but you turned back to the mirror "theres specific positions but other than that he wants me to be flirty and you oblivious, think you can do that miss tutor?" chad chuckles drawing on his paper. you looked at the script reading the title:

hot innocent tutor gets dominated by jock staring- y/n L/n chad lexing mostly improve. actors can create story that must last 10 minutes before actual porn scene.

you scratched out 'innocent' with a eye liner before going back to your lips "wanna be funny and see if he catches on?" you asked hoping chad would get your mean

"this isn't a beach this is a bathtub lady!" chad immediately blurts out making you laugh "ooh pretty laugh" he wiggled his eyebrows "shut up!" you said between breathing "but yeah that basically but reversed" you explained now smiling at him "great! imma go shave and change" he grabbed his duffel bag and rolled away on the floor making you laugh again, now you kinda felt bad for being cold, but it seems hes used to that. soon you were finally done and put on your outfit, pulling your skirt up you could feel eyes on you so you quickly fixed it and glared at the door....to see nothing, you looked around and yelled for chad but only got the shower running as a response. the 'eyes' felt like daggers to you, almost supernatrual. your heavy breathing turning into a mini panic attack as you walked around the hall opening every door and looking into every corner you finally walked back into the bathroom closing the door and locking it, hoping you were just getting withdrawals or just nervous,

You could hear your own heart in your ears.

Your breathing.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You shrieked looking out to the window to see a figure for a split second before it disappeared. Chad ran in a towel trying to open the door “y/n?? You ok?” You turned to the door scrambling to open it “the window! Chad look!” You pointed and in your fear opened the window to see…nothing just a tree “it’s just shadows” he chuckled closing the window “it’s ok” he held out his hands to you and you obliged hugging him, he patted your back like a friend before you both let go “you look good” he winked “come with me to change and we can head downstairs, no scary monster will get you” he held out a hand that you took. You were starting to really like Chad, even if he was calling you crazy.

The scene went as expected, one minute your insulting this ‘jock’ the next he was holding you up like a pretzel. And yes you both had to cut a few time to laugh at your improv. In the end you both laid in an Alaskan king bed blinded by studio lighting and an ugly middle aged man clapping “beautiful! I like the bit there with the tongue” he wiggled his eyebrows as you and Chad just side eyed, Chad getting the hint you were uncomfortable “awesome man, we’re gonna go shower” he slapped his sweaty, fluid covered hand on the man’s shoulder before gesturing you to go first, “gross lexing” the director slapped his hand away “my wife bought me this shirt” the director deadpanned “your checks will be in the kitchen. My assistant will escort you out.” He huffed motioning everyone to wrap up and go home. You leaned your back up against the shower wall as the water hit you, Chad used the other shower so you were alone. You heard the door and remembered chads bag was in the room so you weren’t alarmed, until you could hear the door creak as you were covered in shampoo “Chad? I don’t think your stuff is in here” you yelled out wiping off your face about to scream before your mouth was covered by a dirt covered hand “boo.”

Y/n:

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby #creepypasta s/o #creepypasta fanfic #proxies #creepypasta slenderman #ticci toby x reader

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bearbluebooks · 7 months

Text

Chapter 15 - Autumn Recomposed

What happens if the Yule Ball meets Acotar? We get another girls getting ready, an alcohol raid and a protective Azriel. Who will get the iconic Ron get-up?

Read on AO3 or under the cut :)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

I tried to time the music with the passage, start the song at "With one swift movement" and get the full experience!

Gwyn POV

Otherworldly music moved through the corridors. Finding its way into every room and all the ears gathered there- urging them to listen, to dance, to come alive.

Gwyn could almost see the strings of melody dancing in the empty space.

The air seemed different too, it was filled with notes of excitement and expectation.

The Blood Rite was one of the biggest traditions of Helmerra. News reporters and officials came from faraway lands to observe the competition firsthand.

Ever since the draw, Gwyn’s days were filled with anticipation of all that was to come. She tried to prepare as best she could, but textbooks and stories could only limit the uncertainty so much.

All other time was spent preparing her body and mind as much as she could before she entered the unknown brutality that awaited her.

Her magic was useful and powerful, but also greatly unpredictable. Unlike hand-to-hand combat or weapons, both of which could be mastered through technique and strength.

Devlon granted them extra training time but it still wasn’t enough. Especially if they wanted to train as a team, something that Devlon highly discouraged, exclaiming in his stern voice ‘What use is a team, if you can’t even defend yourself’.

That’s why Gwyn spend most of her time training for battle on the secret roof together with the other Valkyries. Their nights were filled with one-on-one fights, strength training, and weapons practice. Archery became one of Gwyn’s preferred skills, next to the dagger for closed combat. Azriel loved her proclivity for the dagger. He even gifted her another dagger, which he strongly suggested she keep under a pillow.

Through repetition, repetition, repetition, Gwyn learned to use her weapons as an extension of herself. Her previous disbelief in her strength and skill was an extra barrier that disrupted the flow of force. She finally realized that it was all connected, that the fluidity of movement depended on her trust in the weapon and her skill as the wielder.

At night, Azriel made it his mission to give Gwyn private lessons. He experienced the competition firsthand and knew better than anyone which trials and tribulations were in store for her.

After a week of training, she could already feel all the training taking effect- her body reacted so much faster than she ever held possible, she even misjudged her strength a couple of times, and Devlon complimented her on her dagger skills.

With only three days left until the first trial, she wanted to make the absolute best of every day. Sleep was for the amateurs, that’s why when Azriel went to sleep, she read up on poisonous plants, dangerous animals, and Valkyrie fighting techniques. After all, brain was just as important as brawn.

But not tonight, tonight was for dancing and drinking.

For the very first time, she would be able to drink the notorious golden brew.

She could still see her mother drinking the sun-colored liquid with other villagers.

Once a year they would sit around the fire they built to honor Minera, their sun goddess, whilst singing songs and telling tales deep into the night.

Her mother seemed less constrained by the worries that always seemed to plague her eyes. To Gwyn, that alone made the drink seem like a magic potion. Unfortunately, alcohol was almost as rare as magic in Sangravah, there was no brewery and the only way to obtain it was through travelers or trade.

When Gwyn turned 18, her mom promised she could try the golden brew whenever it became available. Unbeknownst to either of them, that time never came. Until now.

The old promise hurt. She always imagined her first drink to be with Catrin somewhere in an inn, or the library. If she was honest, the place didn’t really matter as long as it was with her.

Even though she wasn’t here tonight, she promised herself to keep Catrin’s memory alive in whichever way she could. So tonight, she would drink for Catrin, as if she was there with her.

-----

Azriel POV

Gwyn’s first taste of beer would not be that watered-down golden brew bullshit, they usually poured at those sorry excuses for a party.

Last week, she mentioned it, and he vowed to have her first be something better than that.

Luckily, Rhys, Cassian, and him had a different tradition before every party. One hour before the lame party started, they would sneak out to the Busy Willow, the local bar just outside of Helmerra, to steal one keg of their finest drink- the Salty Hell.

Azriel already had his first taste of the dangerous liquid when he was twelve. At the Willow they didn’t care how old you were, as long as you had the gold coins to back it up- thanks to his shadows and Rhys’ allowance, they always did.

Their first encounter with the S.H. ended in a different kind of hell, bent over the toilet, sitting on the cold floor, praying to all the Gods that never listened to please take away the pain.

That didn’t stop him from repeating everything one week later, he just made sure to drink more water.

Nine years later, the trio had a lot more experience, but not necessarily wisdom, as they found themselves in the same bar, on the hunt for the same dangerous liquid, the Salty Hell.

Rhys came up with the plan last week. In those nine years, they had to become more and more creative. Sundamar, owner of the Willow, and smart son of a bitch, became more and more aware of their tactics. At first, he laughed it off, they were just children, and more than anything he was impressed. As the years went on, the repercussions became more severe- from slaps on the wrist to full-on bans.

This year, would top them all.

The plan was masterful because of its simplicity.

A diversion would be created by Cassian, who would kick in the door, concentrating all attention on the front of the bar. In the meantime, Rhysand would distract Sundamar with tales from Helmerra, the old gossip loved younglings' tragedies, the more sensational the better. Rhys’ power could be invasive and annoying, but as Azriel navigated his way into the locked backroom, he couldn’t be more grateful.

He could hear the steady heartbeat of the guard out front, and the smell of gunpowder hit his nose the second he stepped foot in the cramped space. Light was limited, there was one small window at the back of the room which was barely visible in the rows of barrels that lined the walls. Fortunately, his Illyrian senses helped him identify the different liquids contained in the chestnut kegs.

Making sure he kept his wings tightly pressed against his back to not knock over anything, he navigated the small space until he smelled that unmistakable wood odor, jackpot. After he deposited two barrels in his shadows, another chestnut container caught his eye.

The weathered label informed him of its contents, ‘Melon Stardust’. When he crouched down to smell the mysterious liquid, he was hit in the face with the sweetest fragrance that had no place in a bar, Gwyn would love it.

Shouts loud enough to reach the backroom suddenly erupted from the bar. Then a smack was heard, and a slamming of chairs. With one quick grab, he threw the Melon atrocity in one of his shadows as he stepped into another one to the source of the noise with two of his daggers ready in hand.

The whole bar was engulfed in a fight, not tonight, he thought to himself as he hit a man in the face. Another dagger flew towards the hand that was about to slap Cassian, who was surrounded by three males, in the face. “I think we’re about ready here”, Rhysand’s voice said in his mind, “Grab Cassian and let’s get out of here.”

With two sweeping motions, Azriel pushed two males out of his way and forcefully grabbed Cassian by the shoulder, he could faintly hear some argument “Buy me dinner fir-“

In the blink of an eye, all three stood in the Illyrian common room. Blinking to the new reality they found themselves in. “Let’s get dressed brothers”, Rhysand exclaimed.

-----

Gwyn POV

Catrin loved to dress up. Their mom had an old chest with dresses tucked away in her bedroom that they would often plunder when they were children.

The beautiful garments made her feel like a gorgeous princess, or a brave knight, or a scary pirate- everything was possible with a good imagination.

Gwyn didn’t mind dressing up, but it didn’t have the same effect on her as it had on Catrin. She transformed into a whole different person, like magic. Gwyn could still see her dancing around in the small bedroom with her small hands on the flowy gown, spinning, spinning, spinning, until she was so sick she would have to sit down.

Tonight, Gwyn would also be a princess, for Catrin.

By the Acheron sisters, Gwyn could once again share their collective closet.

It was no easy feat, with so many options, all the beds were covered in garments, skirts, tops, and shoes. So many shoes.

In the background, daylight slowly made way for the luminescence of evening. The soft light covered everything in a cozy radiance that only existed in one small time frame.

Gwyn felt like a doll, so many gowns were tried on until they unanimously decided on a long emerald green gown.

The elegant garment had a voluminous skirt with a singed waist. The open back showed much of her pale skin and freckles, whereas her chest was completely covered in a flowy horizontal fabric. The dress was held up by two thin bands, leaving much of her shoulders bare. Nesta let her borrow two stunning diamond earrings and a matching thin diamond necklace.

Elain urged her to wear one of her emerald high heels, proclaiming in that convincing way of hers “They match too well for you not to wear them tonight!”

All Gwyn saw were two deathtraps that would surely be the end of her before she ever stepped foot in the Blood Rite. Her first steps resembled a newborn fawn, who just learned to walk. When she finally started to gain some confidence she fell flat on her face.

She almost gave up, what was the point, nobody would see it under the dress anyway but then she reassured herself that she could use Azriel as a walking stick.

Gwyn felt beautiful and expensive.

“You look stunning, Gwyn.” Nesta said from behind her, as she put the necklace around her neck and then sternly “If you lose that necklace, I know where you live.” Gwyn hoped that she was joking, just to be sure, she said an extra prayer to the Mother.

Looking around the room, she tried to imprint the memory in her brain forever. The friendship gathered in the room and the love they all shared for each other.

Gwyn had lost her twin, which was a loss she would carry with her forever, a piece of her soul died with her on that day. But looking around the room, she felt like she wasn’t alone anymore. Their grace, generosity, and open arms filled her with so much warmth and gratitude, that she choked up a little.

Feyre, who spend a lot of time with Rhysand, but was always there for her if she needed it. Tonight she wore a blue gown that resembled the night’s sky, with small silver stars adorning the layered skirt. The heart-shaped top was separated by a silver belt that created a beautiful shape.

Her best friend, who was the biggest reason for her dorm being a home, wore a tight red dress that skillfully showed all her curves. There was a black sheer fabric layered on top of the mahogany garment, with black sheer gloves that gave the overall apparel an elegant but sharp look.

And then there was Elain, who was as wonderful as she was kind. Their relationship could have become awkward when Azriel and her started dating, especially when they started to share a room and he would come over. Although it took some getting used to the new situation, from both sides, she never made Gwyn feel unwelcome. And for that, she would always be grateful. Tonight she looked ethereal in her purple fairytale dress. The sheer sleeves matched the fluidity of the star-studded skirt perfectly.

Mor and Emerie went on a date beforehand, but their clothes remained a mystery until they were reunited at the Starfall ball. Emerie did tease that she would be wearing a suit, and Gwyn couldn’t wait to see it in person.

One more person was missing, everybody knew Amren preferred to collect treasure instead of wearing it. She did make an exception for the Starfall ball and reassured them she would join them later.

The Starfall Ball was an ancient tradition as old as the Blood Rite and Helmerra itself. Tradition was marked by rules, and there were several, as Gwyn and all other students were informed by several teachers, in multiple classes.

The most important rules were that dress robes were mandatory, the ball would start at 8 p.m. sharp, and there would be wine. Several times, they emphasized for everybody to be on their best behavior, or else...

The mysterious threat left too much to the imagination and scared most students enough not to try anything.

The end of the night was signaled by a yearly migration of stars. When the sky was painted in light, and spirits found their way back home.

One quick spell by Professor Helion turned all other lights off, to ensure the stars could be seen in their full glory.

During the spirits migration, silence was mandatory, to commemorate all fallen Blood Rite students that perhaps colored the sky that night.

Gwyn wondered if she would be one of the lights in the sky next year.

A stern knock on the door brought her back to reality and Nesta rushed to the door to see the cause of the intrusion.

“Hello beautiful”, the deep voice said from the door opening. He already barely fit in the doorframe, but now he had to walk sideways because of the huge barrel he held under his arm. With one kiss Nesta urged Cassian inside. When he put the barrel down, the two locked arms and walked toward Nesta’s bed.

“Feyre darling.” Rhysand greeted as he elegantly walked into the already cramped space to kiss Feyre on her cheek.

Elain’s date, Lazarus, was running late and would pick her up whenever he could.

She deserved so much better. She knew Lucien had a small crush on her and she couldn’t help but wish he was here right now. During Royals class and group reflectionism, the two of them had grown close. Someone she could rely on. Someone she considered a friend. Tonight she would help her friends, even if they didn’t know it yet.

The last male to enter was more silent as he walked towards his destination. Words seemed to escape his mind, as he didn’t utter a single word until he reached her side. “You look- you look gorgeous, Gwyn.”

His hand caressed the naked skin on her back, as if he was mapping every piece of her with his hand. Small points of electricity erupted at the innocent touches and Gwyn cherished every second of it. She did not make a move until he was satisfied and it was her turn to admire what stood before her.

Tonight, he wore a suit that seemed to be tailormade to his body. The black blouse and classic jacket fit his muscular arms in an almost magical way. The matching black trousers showed his powerful legs in an almost obscene way. To not stray from the theme too much, he wore black oxford shoes which finalized the overall grand attire.

Gwyn couldn’t help but chuckle. She made a mental note to inspect his closet the next time she was in his room- to go on a mission to find at least a white shirt.

With a quick movement, Gwyn took his scarred hand in hers and guided them towards her bed opposite where Nesta and Cassian were sitting.

Cassian and Azriel continued a conversation they seemed to have started outside, she could faintly hear ‘next time be more subtle’ when Nesta smiled at Gwyn. Gratitude and something else colored her blue-grey eyes. Someone less familiar would have missed it, but Gwyn could swear it was sadness that shone through her eyes.

Gwyn couldn’t help but share the feeling. The easy companionship, the family they created with each other. All of it could be taken from them in a second, and both of them were all too well aware of it. On instinct, Gwyn grabbed Nesta’s hand and hoped it reassured her enough to let her enjoy the evening. One squeeze of her hand back told her the answer.

That muscular leg she was just admiring moved closer and closer, and when it finally touched her, it sent a little shockwave throughout her body. The touch made her wish they were alone.

One of his shadows suddenly dropped another barrel onto her desk, “Melon Stardust” he whispered in her ear, “I didn’t want your first drink to be fairy wine, so we got you something else.”

The corners of her mouth smiled before she realized the incredibly thoughtful gesture. Did she want to know how he got it? She opted for the simpler question “What is it?”

Another smile adorned his face as he said in a hushed tone “Melon Stardust. It’s very sweet, you’ll love it.” A glass appeared in everybody’s hands, and although she recognized the red color, it smelled so sweet she was sure her nose got cavities from just the smell.

Cassian’s voice filled the room as he exclaimed with a raised hand “To a great night and even greater friends.”

“Hear hear” Rhysand answered, and in unison, all seven raised their glasses.

One taste was all Gwyn needed to understand the absolute danger of heaven and hell that the drink contained. It was the promise of an uninhibited existence in the form of liquid candy.

After she finished one glass in what couldn’t have been more than five minutes warmth engulfed her body, her fingers felt tingly and her head began to feel lighter.

Azriel laughed “You like it then?” to which she answered “Very much. Too much.”

Groups mixed and drinks flowed until Azriel found his way back to Gwyn’s side, and she finally had the chance to say “Thank you for getting it, Azriel” and she placed one chaste kiss on his lips. To which he softly licked the sweetness off her lips and whispered “Anything for you.” One scarred hand caressed her exposed back and found a resting place on her leg.

If it was the alcohol, his words, or the lingering touch, her heart spread warmth throughout her body.

Suddenly she felt like standing up, moving her body, DANCING.

“Guys let’s go!” Nesta ordered as if she read her mind.

When they walked out hand in hand, his wings seemed to splay even more proudly than normal. Protecting her from the slight chill that always stalked the corridors. His shadows trailed behind them, and Gwyn thought she saw pride radiating from their little bodies.

Once they reached the hall she already spotted that familiar red-headed male standing with his back towards the stairs.

Gwyn asked Lucien to meet them at the entrance, to combine both friend groups and enjoy the ball together. Next to Lucien stood Jurian, a human reporter who was allowed to visit for the special occasion, and a beautiful female with reddish-gold hair.

Wasn’t that the female she saw in Koschei’s dungeon?

She vowed to ask Lucien about it later, she didn’t want to ruin anybody’s night, and Koschei was sure to have that effect.

The best-dressed male in all Helmerra was wearing something that looked like it was as old as the Starfall ball itself. The pants and jacket were made of a color brown she had never seen before, and it resembled something she could only describe as molding brown. His white blouse had so many frills it took away all attention from the strange color, but not in a good way. His shoes were dark brown and elegant?

She would love to know what happened there. Did he lose a bet or something?

When she looked behind her, to make sure everybody was still together, she could swear she saw jealousy in Elain’s brown eyes. With a quick shake of her head, the emotion disappeared too quickly for anybody to realize it was there in the first place.

“Hi, Lucien. You look… unique,” to his credit, he did make it work in a way nobody else would have been able to. “No need to lie Gwyn. I know I’ve looked better” he responded with a smile.

Suddenly, an audible laughter could be heard. The soft voice behind her took the words right out of Gwyn’s mouth when she asked, “What happened?”

Lucien seemed surprised at the interest but gladly took the opportunity when he answered “It’s an old family tradition, I’m her last chance to carry it out.

“And if one of the Vanserra’s can pull it off, it’s me don’t you think?” he said with a wink.

A red flush washed over Elain’s face, and joy seemed to color her eyes. “I wouldn’t say that. I think Eris makes a strong contender.”

“Oh, you do? I don’t think I’ve heard a worse insult in my life.” As the words left his mouth, one hand covered his heart in pretend anguish.

Gwyn smiled and spotted another reflectionist member standing just behind Elain and Lucien. With a quick wave, she greeted Elly, who was wearing a purple dress that brought out her eyes.

Elly looked away nervously, instead of waving back.

Maybe she wanted to keep her spaces separate. Unfortunately, reflectionism was still surrounded by a lot of stigma. Gwyn felt a slight pang of hurt, but it was quickly replaced by understanding- not everybody had the support system she had. She could give her all the space she needed.

Unlike Lazarus, who suddenly stood way too close for her liking. “Where are the other smut sisters?” the last two words were spat out with a disgust Gwyn was not used to hearing.

“Far away from your petty insults. What do you want Lazarus.” She crossed her hands in front of her body in an attempt to distract her body enough not to roll her eyes.

“I just want to talk, is that not allowed anymore? I’m not the one who permanently scarred the other one, am I?”

He was right.

The black-haired male moved in front of her. A smile adorned the face that still carried a permanent reminder of their last encounter when Gwyn punched Lazarus and accidentally left a handprint on his face.

The memory gave her slight chills. Although all her training provided a semblance of control, her power had grown immensely since that night.

Who knew what hurt she could cause now?

That didn’t mean she had to stand there and listen to him taunting her.

One had to be the bigger person, and it was not going to be the one standing in front of her.

“Have fun tonight, Lazarus.” She said as she whipped her hair around and walked straight into the biggest person in the room.

“Everything okay?” Azriel asked with slight worry in his voice and anger in his eyes.

“Just Lazarus.” She answered, before adding “I handled it.” She didn’t want him to get caught in Lazarus’ stupid games.

The best way to win was to not play at all.

“I know,” He said into her hair. “I know,” a soft added whisper.

Azriel walked back behind her and asked “Ready?”

With one nod and a deep breath, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided them toward the gathering of people.

She still wasn’t used to this many people in one place, her heartbeat quickened, and all sorts of thoughts popped into her brain- where are the exists, what if the Sun Sages invade the school, what if a fight breaks out, what if the punch is poisoned?

The large hand that covered almost all of her back seemed to feel her worries because he placed reassuring circles along her skin. All tension escaped her body at the loving touch of his hand.

Slowly he guided them both inside, where the absurdity of magic was revealed. All light seemed to have vanished to create tonight’s spectacle.

Dusts of silver fell down the ceiling in repeating motions, creating the illusion of falling stars. All tables were removed in favor of one big dancefloor that was barely visible in the darkened space.

She could barely distinguish the statues that she knew adorned the wall.

Did Azriel have better sight? He seemed to navigate the space without worries, whereas Gwyn was increasingly worried she would trip and fall.

Suddenly Professor Helion stood in front of her as her eyes snapped up to meet his he asked “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what professor?” she inquired slightly worried.

Gwyn was nothing if not prepared.

Not having an answer made her palms sweat and drench the hand she was currently holding.

In a quick movement, she retreated her hand and rubbed it on her emerald dress.

Azriel eased both worries as he joined hands again and confidently said “We are. Watch and learn Helion.”

Ready for what? Gwyn said still worried as she was twirled into the darkness.

-----

Azriel POV

Are you ready?

What kind of question was that?

He was born ready.

All his mother’s dance lessons prepared him for this moment.

“Do you trust me?” was the only warning he gave before he softly but confidently pulled her towards the dancefloor.

When he found the perfect spot at the outer ring of the ballroom, he made sure to keep both feet together, as they faced each other. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind, strong eye contact makes the dance sweetheart.

With one soft movement, he placed Gwyn’s right hand in his left, as the violins introduced the new symphony of sounds and movement.

With one slick turn, he swept Gwyn and him along the outer side of the ballroom.

Slowly more instruments joined the quick melody.

His expert gaze spotted empty spaces to ensure safe and fluid movements along the crowded space.

His right hand moved towards her waist with the change of melody as more instruments joined in.

His stead and quick feet never missed a beat.

More instruments joined and the music influenced his movements. He felt it in his bones. He closed his eyes and felt the soft breeze of the wind that signaled his safe space. He could hear the humming of his mother, and how it beckoned the muscles in his body to move to the music.

The familiar moonflower, juniper, and vanilla scent brought him back to the present, and the beautiful female in his arms.

He could see the initial surprise in Gwyn’s eyes that was replaced with pure happiness. Turn after turn her smile brightened.

He needed to have her closer, and he wanted to memorize the magical sight in front of him.

His hands decided for him, as they grabbed Gwyn closer and moved her body flush to his, “I think we showed them enough, don’t you?”

Gwyn was speechless as he guided them both off the dancefloor and into a dark corner in the hallway.

With one swift movement, he softly pushed Gwyn against the wall, his enormous body covering her from sight.

His shadows felt protective, as always, and added an extra obsidian shield to obscure them from any drunk onlookers.

“You look stunning, my moon.”

She gifted him a smile again, as she playfully pushed him away exclaiming “You already said that.”

He would never tire of the sight- of her vibrant copper hair that always stood out in every room, of her teal eyes that reminded him of home, of her freckles that were even more Gwyn than her stubbornness.

All he could think to say was, “And I will until the day I die.”

The words caused a beautiful redness to erupt all over her face.

Without thinking, his mouth moved to cover hers in a passionate kiss.

It started gently, he didn’t want to scare her with everything he wanted to do.

How he wanted to kiss every freckle on her body, how he wanted to discover just how much he could make her blush. What he could do with his tongue. With his cock- which was already achingly hard in his pants.

Before he could deepen the kiss, she already opened his mouth with her tongue. One of his hands moved to her hair, which he softly pulled before he caressed the thick strands.

“Nesta spent hours on it” she managed to say in between kisses.

“Do you want me to stop”, he teased into her mouth.

One movement of her hips into his groin answered his question for her.

With one movement of his hand, he cupped her ass and pulled her flush to his body. Gwyn wrapped her legs around his hips and he made use of the movement to turn them around so he could give her stability.

He briefly touched the tip of her tongue with his, before he deepened the kiss.

Pleasure erupted all over his body, as he got lost in the sensation of her mouth.

She got skilled, and there was no place he would rather be.

Hours or minutes passed, as time was lost, and happiness was found.

---

Helion needed Gwyn for some a speech and found them in the hallway after who knows how much time had passed.

Alone again, the earlier anger reappeared.

Lazarus.

His shadows already whispered where the shady asshole was hiding.

In one swift movement he was in front of the black-haired coward, no words were wasted when he said “You pull that shit with Gwyn again and I’ll make you regret it, you hear me.”

The little shit was speechless.

“You hear me.” He repeated with even more ire in his voice.

He didn’t seem at a loss for words when he spoke to Gwyn, little did he know she was the one he should be scared off.

“Just nod asshole.”

One quick reluctant nod told him all he needed to.

Now he could get back to what was important. She should be finished by now.

Gwyn was already standing outside, under the sky painted in pure starlight. Nesta and Emerie stood next to Gwyn, with Cassian taking up his usual spot behind Nesta.

Rhys and Feyre were somewhere in a dark corner according to his shadows, and Lucien and Elain were standing in the front near the ledge overlooking the forest.

Lucien’s bigger body engulfed Elain’s smaller frame in an embrace that looked as if they had done it a million times before.

Lucien and Elain? His eyes quickly roved back to two, his shadows had not given him any indication of this new development.

Maybe it was new, or they still kept their distance.

Either way, he was glad Elain found someone who could give her the love she deserved.

Just like he had in Gwyn. His eyes quickly found her again. Despite the magical sight, her eyes were closed, perhaps she was saying a silent prayer for the safe return of her mother and sister.

Suddenly, the sky was filled with red smoke of a red skull with a sun coming out of it.

Screams erupted amongst the students.

It was the sign of the Sun Sages. They were here.

He could see Gwyn, yelling his name into a crowd that threatened to swallow her.

The peacefulness that enveloped the school moments before was now overtaken by utter chaos.

“GWYN.” He yelled with more desperation than he ever felt in his life.

All of his shadows moved towards her in a flash. He didn’t even need to give them the order.

With desperate hands, he moved people out of the way.

He needed to get to Gwyn.

They would take her from him again.

His feet weren’t quick enough, but his shadows were.

His eyes never left her sight, and he could see the black shield forming over her.

Two more steps and he could envelop his arms around hers.

With one strong movement, he pulled her up and wrapped her in his arms.

“Are you okay?” He pleaded into her ear, more of a wish than a question.

“Are you?” She answered before words appeared in the sky and a shiver ran up his body before pure anger took over.

“She’s mine.”

#gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #acotar #a court of silver flames #acotar alternate universe #ao3 fanfic #gwynriel fic

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harlot-of-oblivion · 6 months

Text

The Devil's In The Details

You get ready for a night of fun at the local bar, but you didn't expect to face temptation when a certain devil hunter comes to play.

Things are starting to heat up, but it's not explicit...yet 😏

Enjoy!

Chapter 12: A Devil Walks Into The Bar

Take some time off…and that’s an order, Detective.

The Lieutenant’s concerned voice rings in your mind, stirring the boiling anger in your gut as you stare at the various crime scene photos pinned to a cork board. You came home a couple hours ago and immediately began to set up what you call your “investigative nook”: a corner of your living room dedicated to your current cases so that you can continue to work in the comfort of your flat.

But you haven’t been able to focus. You’ve just been staring at the grisly photos while the ever-present anger simmers beneath your skin. This isn’t the first time that Hard Ass has ordered you to take time off…but it still feels like gasoline has been thrown into the fiery pits of your temper whenever he pulls his rank on you. You know that you’re not equals anymore, and you still respect your former partner…but he can fuck right off if he thinks that fighting a few demons would shake your resolve.

You’re getting too close to seein’ those ghosts, Hot Head.

You tear your tempestuous gaze from the cork board of grisly crime scene photos to check the time on your cellphone. It’s a little past 5 o’ clock, and if you want to make it in time for some good food, strong drinks, and some dancing with your closest coworkers…you need to start getting ready. So, you step away from your investigative nook and push your buzzing anger down as you make your way to the bedroom.

Carmen always suggests a night out when you’re at your angriest, so close to tipping over the edge before exploding in a fit of rage. So, when she texted you earlier about a night at the cantina you instantly accepted. You’ve never shared your furious feelings about being benched by the Lieutenant, but she’s picked up on how much you hate it. And she never fails to suggest a get together with Graves at the cantina to unwind and work out some stream in a “more fun way” as she puts it.

And you appreciate it since Fuego del Diablo is a damn fine bar with a vast dance floor for salsa dancing. You always want to take out your anger with your fists or daggers, but when you’re at that cantina…you can take it out with a salacious swivel of your hips and the confident steps of your high heels. And if you’re lucky…with a mysterious stranger in your bed.

The image of a flirtatious smirk surrounded by a scruffy fuzz of white hair suddenly enters your mind. Your thighs clench at the thought of…you throw out that notion of spending a night with your current partner with a shake of your head as you enter your bedroom and stride straight into the adjacent bathroom.

But it’s easier said than done. Thoughts of how his lips would feel against your skin, his hands roaming your body, his tongue licking your…you shake your head again as you turn the shower on in your bathroom. Then, you get undressed and step into the hot spray with a relieved sigh, savoring the feel of hot water beating against your skin as it eases the tension in your body.

Your mind is blessedly silent as you take a shower. You wash your hair, your body…and since it’s a night at the cantina, you shave your legs and make sure your armpits are smooth before moving onto the apex of your thighs. You reach out of the shower curtain to grab the slim trimmer on your sink and begin to shear the curly hair between your thighs. Then, you take your razor and drag it across the sensitive skin with care, slowly shaping the short hair into a pleasing sight that you hope will entice anyone who’s lucky enough to see it.

Perhaps a certain devil hunter with white hair and an annoyingly irresistible smile…

You cut that line of thought out of your mind as you turn the shower off. No, no…anyone but him, you chastise yourself while shoving the shower curtain to the side. Sleeping with my partner is out of the question, you continue, trying to convince yourself as the old and bittersweet feelings towards your previous partner dampens the desirous thoughts churning in your head.

Instead, you think about what happened between you and Jayce as you step out of the shower. Both of you were good together for a while, always butting heads and getting into heated arguments but there was an unspoken attraction. But it never led to anything…both of you knew that sleeping with each would just complicate things. And after what happened…you’re very glad that you kept your distance because it would’ve hurt worse if you didn’t, especially when he turned his back on you after…

You glance up at the foggy mirror above your sink. Your bittersweet feelings turn sour and regretful as you stare at the ugly scar on your left breast, an eternal reminder of that fateful case. The very helpful consultant for the police turned into a malevolent demon when you and Jayce confronted him with the evidence of his vicious crimes. Your scar burns as you remember the impact of his sharp talons slamming straight through your chest, barely missing your heart as Jayce unloaded a full clip at the fucker in a desperate attempt to save your life. You survived but…you lost the respect and trust of everyone around you.

All you had in the end was this hideous scar marring your breast like some mark of failure.

You clench your fists before snatching up the nearby hair dryer with a determined scowl, refocusing on getting ready for a night of fun. Once you’re done drying off, you leave the bathroom and take a look in your closet. You eye the small collection of dresses before pulling out a sexy red one that reminds you of…

What do you wanna do to me, Honeybee?

“God fucking dammit!” you berate yourself while glaring at the dress with an irate scowl.

But you still slip the dress on, refusing to think about that heated moment down in the abandoned station with your insufferably handsome partner. Dante has a knack for wriggling his way through the icy cracks of your control, but you won’t let it get to you tonight. I just need a night of drinking and dancing…and maybe a one-night stand to distract me from him, you thought, fully adamant on keeping your partner at a professional distance as you continue to get ready.

You brush your hair and apply your makeup with meticulous care before taking a good look in your bathroom mirror. And you smile at the saucy image that greets you. The dress hides the nasty scar on your breast, but it still shows just enough cleavage to entice anyone brave enough to approach you. And when you turn around to inspect the back, your lips curl into a smug grin at the sight of your silky-smooth legs that instantly brings the eye to your ass thanks to the short cut of the dress. Your back is bare, but the scar that you got from the demon’s talons is faint and not as noticeable as the one on the front. It’s easier to ignore and so long as you keep the dress on…there’s no way that your one-night stand will be ruined by the uncomfortable questions.

Your brow furrows as you walk out of the bathroom to check the time on your cellphone. Then, you send a quick text to Carmen before slipping into some strappy high heels. You grab a small clutch purse and dump your cellphone and wallet into it before making your way to the front door of your flat and walking out with a confident stride. It only takes a few minutes until Carmen pulls up on your street in her car. You open the passenger side door and hop in an excited huff before she drives off.

“Hey, Quickdraw! Lookin’ good!” she comments with a bright smile.

“I really needed this…thanks, Sandiego,” you murmur with a grateful smirk as she steers through the streets towards the cantina.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all!” she replies with a cheerful shrug of her shoulders as she weaves through traffic with an intense focus.

Carmen doesn’t talk much along the way, which is really abnormal for the sunny crime scene analyst that you consider a friend. You squint at the subtle curl of her lips that depicts her usual happy smile, but there’s something more to it. But you don’t get the chance to question her unusual demeanor as she swings her car into an open spot right at the corner of the cantina.

“Time to get our margarita on!” she exclaims with an excited wiggle of her brow before stepping out of the car.

You open the passenger car door and follow her along the sidewalk in front of Fuego del Diablo, glancing up at the flashy red sign of a horned man engulfed in flames as both of you enter the lively cantina. Carmen greets one of the busy servers with a friendly smile as you scan the bar, the dance floor…before pausing on a familiar face at one of the tables in a secluded corner. You pat Carmen on her arm and nod your head in that direction before leading her through the crowd of servers and excited patrons towards Grayson.

“Hey there!” he greets with a small wave as you and Carmen take a seat. “Already got the drinks for ya!” he exclaims while gesturing towards the large pitcher of margarita in the middle of the table.

You give him a thankful smile as you reach for the pitcher. “You’re the best, Graves,” you murmur while pouring yourself a glass before handing it off to Carmen. “What’s the special today?” you ask while raising your glass for a sip.

“Besides this pitcher of salty sweetness,” he begins with an excited smile. “It’s homemade guacamole and scrumptious tacos with an endless supply of tortilla chips.”

You grin at the promise of a delicious meal as you swallow the first of many sips of margarita. Carmen flags down a server and requests a tray of chips with homemade guacamole with a cheerful smile before taking a sip of her freshly poured margarita. Then, she smacks her lips and begins to chatter with you and Graves with her usual bubbly fast pace.

The first hour of this night of fun passes as all of you engage in carefree conversation with the occasional tortilla chip being dipped into the delectable guacamole. You savor the chips and dip along with the companionable company of your coworkers and friends, basking in their support despite the reputation you gained down at the station. After what happened a couple of years ago, many of your fellow officers just kept their distance in case it would compromise their position in the department.

But Carmen and Grayson never backed down, and it’s at times like this that you truly appreciate them for having your back when your previous partner deserted you for a promotion. I should let them know how grateful I am, you thought while chucking back your third margarita. And you’re about to say that thought out loud when Carmen and Grayson turn towards the entrance of the cantina with excited glee.

You turn your gaze in that direction….and your eyes widen as Dante looks in your direction. Why is he here? What the fuck? you thought as you hide your surprise with a generous sip of margarita. Your eyes flit between Carmen and Grayson before focusing on Carmen’s delighted expression, still very genuine with a hint of devious intent.

God fucking dammit, you curse internally as you realize why she was so tight lipped on the way here…she invited Dante and didn’t tell you!

Your partner strides up to your table with a confident swagger. “Mind if I join you?” he asks while his brilliant blue eyes flicker between Carmen and Grayson before honing in on you.

“Not at all!” Carmen insists with an enthusiastic nod towards the empty chair right next to you.

Fucking traitor, you seethe as Dante settles down into the chair and reaches for the nearly empty pitcher of margarita.

“Might need a refill,” he suggests with a flirty smirk while checking you out.

You keep quiet but agree that you need more drink…much more drink now that the object of your desire is sitting so casually beside you as Carmen requests another pitcher. Your eyes flicker over of their own volition towards him as you raise your glass to your lips. He’s still wearing the same clothes, but you notice that his white hair seems more lustrous in the low light of the bar. And the short and scruffy hair around his chin and smirking lips has been trimmed, showing off more of his handsome face.

Did he do all that for me? you wonder, quickly looking away before he notices your subtle staring.

You finish the rest of your margarita with a hearty gulp and sit rigidly in your seat until the server comes back with a full pitcher. Then, you give the waiter your order of tacos and tortilla chips with the spiciest salsa, and since both of you came to agreement…you order the house pizza for your partner before nodding towards Carmen and Grayson to put in their orders.

“Another non-traditional pizza, huh?” Dante inquires close to your ear as the server scurries away.

“You’ll see,” you provide with a confident quirk of brow.

The flirty curl of his lips stokes the embers of your ire and desire as all of you refill your glasses with more margaritas. Then, all of you just continue the casual flow of conversation. You listen to the woes and hilarity from Carmen and Grayson while Dante offers his opinion that gets a good laugh out of them. But his eyes keep finding their way towards you, making your skin tingle under his blatant focus during this friendly conversation.

You avert your gaze, trying your hardest to not give him any ideas about what you really want those smirking lips to do between your legs. The food arrives soon and you feel relieved as everyone digs into their meal. You bite into your taco and moan happily while glancing towards Dante from the corner of your eye.

“What’s the matter?” you ask while leaning in close. “Afraid of having a taste?” you suggest with a quirked brow as he stares hesitantly at the large tortilla covered in delicious meat and toppings.

Dante looks down at you and your skin bursts with goosebumps as that flash of red sparkles within his gaze. “Oh, I’m not afraid…far from it.”

His purring response makes you feel like he wasn’t talking about the pizza before he looks away and picks up a slice. He looks at it intently, and you know that he’s searching for olives…which you could tell him that there are none. But you stay silent and secretly admire the subtle shifts of his handsome face, honing in on his lips as he finally bites down on the tortilla slice of pizza.

“Mmm hmm!” he moans while giving you a wink. “You never disappoint, Honeybee.”

“Told you that I knew the best places for pizza and uh….this isn’t beer but maybe you’ll make an exception?” you ask while refilling his cup with margarita.

Dante leans in close and whispers by your ear. “Only for you.”

You glance up and see a fire behind those striking blue eyes. But the light and easy conversation of your closest coworkers and friends tears his gaze away from you, leaving you feeling…no.

Hell no.

You shouldn’t want more of his attention. But something in your gut wants those striking blue eyes on you, and despite your better judgment along with the first couple pitchers of margarita…

“Let’s dance, Sandiego,” you demand while rising from your seat with a confident tilt of your chin.

“Uh, yeah sure!” she responds with a cheerful grin before looking between Grayson and Dante. “Sorry, boys…girls only,” she claims while leaving her seat with a playful wink before following you on the dance floor.

Your lips curl into a smug smirk as you and Carmen walk onto the dance floor. The previous song ends but another track with an upbeat rhythm plays through the speakers. Fucking perfect, you thought as the pounding drums urges you to finally let loose.

You and Carmen flit across the dance floor, smiling broadly while quickstepping around each other with a lot of hips shaking and flashes of leg. The buzzing anger in your gut is replaced by the thrill of dancing with no care in the world. And the eyes of many patrons on both of you stirs something more hot and primal deep inside you…but you yearn for the striking blue eyes of a certain devil hunter, longing to see that spark of red igniting in his hungry gaze as they watch you.

Your head turns toward your table before you can stop yourself. And you almost lose the rhythm of your steps as the blazing heat in your partner’s gaze rocks through your body and straight down between your legs.

“Holy shit,” you softly gasp, actually feeling his eyes on you.

His shameless eyes leave a trail of lustful fire upon your skin as they roam every inch of your body. And you suddenly want to give in to this sizzling attraction between you two. You need to feel his hands snaking around your hips, you ache for the taste of his lips on your tongue, and you crave the explosive pleasure those striking blue eyes promise as he watches your every move.

Oh, no…HELL no. No, no, no, no, you fret silently while looking away from your table with an exasperated flick of your head. What the hell is wrong with me? you wonder while stamping the desire for your devilish partner out of your mind.

You refocus on your dancing, vigorously channeling the conflicted frustration muddling your mind into every step and swivel of your hips. Carmen struggles to keep up but manages to hold her own and matches your fire until the song ends. Both of you smile and collapse into a spirited hug, but the thought of going back to your table to face those piercing eyes that threaten to break through your icy resolve…

“The margaritas are gettin’ to me,” you murmur by her ear while turning your back towards your table. “Wanna hit the bathroom before going back to the table?”

Carmen nods. “Yeah! Gotta follow the girl code!”

“I just need to pee,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

“That may be, but there’s strength in numbers!” she exclaims with a cheery grin. “Besides, we both know that it’s a great place to have girl talk!”

You exit the dance floor in a rush with Carmen in tow. She pauses for a moment to look towards your table and gestures between you two and the corner of the bar with a wave of your hand. Grayson gives her a thumbs up and continues to chat with Dante as both of you head to the restrooms. You avoid glancing back at your table, but you can still feel your partner’s eyes on you along the way.

Carmen opens the door in the corner and steps aside as a couple of ladies leave before leading you into the small dimly lit restroom. “Hot damn! We set that dance floor on fire!” she exclaims while both of you enter separate stalls.

“We’ll burn it down if we’re not careful,” you reply with an amused grin.

“Totally worth it!” she quips back through the thin wall of the stall. “I don’t condone arson, but the way that everyone was staring at us…talk about an inferno!”

Only felt one set of eyes on me, you thought before shaking your head in frustration. You remain quiet while both of you finish up and flush the toilets before exiting the stalls. Your body is tense as you approach the sink to wash your hands. Carmen joins you and keeps glancing your way with concern gleaming in her eyes before speaking.

“Hey, so uh…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I invited Dante.”

You flick water from your hands with a curious quirk of your brow. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because…I just knew if I told ya, you wouldn’t show up looking like a total snack!”

“Damn right, I wouldn’t!” you fume while ripping a towel from the plastic dispenser. “He’s my partner and I’d never-”

“Dante isn’t like Jayce, Quickdraw.”

Your angry words dry up as Carmen turns the sink off. “I know that, but still…” you trail off while vigorously wiping your hands with the paper towel.

“Oh, c’mon! He’s not even part of the police force like the Lieutenant!” she rebukes while ripping her own square of paper towel from the dispenser. “So, if something were to happen…”

You throw the paper towel into the trash bin with an exasperated huff. “It will only distract us from solving the case.”

“See, I think that’s bullshit!” she exclaims, quickly drying her hands before chucking the crinkled square of paper towel into the trash bin. “You sacrificed so much and…why should you give up the chance to be with a hot devil hunter who looks at you like you’re his wet dream come true?”

You’re taken aback by her sudden ferocity for a moment. Then, you turn your conflicted gaze towards the mirror above the sink. “Yeah, but I’m sure he’s staring at all the other pretty ladies in this bar as we speak,” you argue while checking your makeup for any smudges.

“Uh, no…I can say for sure that his eyes never left you while we were dancing.”

You wipe your head towards Carmen as she moves in close to check on her own makeup. Both of you are silent for a few moments while both of you fix yourselves up until you can’t stand it anymore and have to ask about more details.

“Really? He didn’t even…”

“Yeah! He looked like he was in some sort of sexy trance or something!” she reveals with an excited grin. “I even saw a few ladies pass by the table, but he didn’t even glance their way…just kept on staring at you.”

You remain quiet and turn back to the mirror, running your fingers through your hair to untangle some knots that happened during your spirited dance session while your mind processes Carmen’s words. It pleases you to hear that Dante only had eyes for you, but it also terrifies you.

Of all the women in the city…he just had to notice the detective with a lot of baggage and a controversial reputation that still haunts her every day. You thought that he was just playing with you since he definitely knows how to get under your skin, and you always got the impression that he takes some kind of twisted pleasure out of pissing you off. But after seeing the way he looked at you on the dance floor, the unbridled yearning and the promise of satisfying your every desire in those devilish eyes…

No, no, no…don’t think about that, you chastise yourself as you focus on the ramifications.

It’s true that Dante isn’t part of the force, so it wouldn’t be such a big faux pas if you two were to…but the press would have a field day if they found out! The detective who cried demon hooking up with the most notorious devil hunter in the city…that would be a juicy scoop. And you know that if the Lieutenant found out, the tiny shred of dignity you’re clinging to would snap and you’d find yourself on suspension before getting the boot later.

You open your mouth and plan to wholeheartedly shut down the idea of being intimate with your partner…but you find yourself more hesitant than assured as you speak.

“It’ll complicate things, but I…” you trail off, unable to translate your rational thoughts into words as painful memories and feelings choke your lungs in a vice grip.

Carmen has always been really good at sensing people’s feelings, and she doesn’t disappoint when she takes one look at your face and knows the turmoil brewing inside you despite your best efforts to hide it.

“Yeah, it probably will,” she agrees. ”But it’s obvious that Dante believes you and will have your back this time around,” she assures with a comforting shove against your shoulders before looking towards the mirror with a devious grin. “Plus, the fiery chemistry and banter between you two…I like this ship more!”

“Oh, my fucking god,” you mutter while pinching your furrowed brow between your fingers. “Not this again.”

Carmen giggles. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for workplace romance!” she admits while flipping her hair over her shoulder. “But this is totally different from what you and Jayce had going on, always dancing around each other but never…but I’m really glad that nothing ever happened,” she discloses while meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Cos I thought you’d find a slice of bliss with him, but he just…” she pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. “You deserve just a lil bit of fun and happiness, and that handsome devil hunter out there is the crack in the case of your lonely heart!”

You laugh softly under your breath. “Not many can put up with my bullshit,” you remark while turning to her with a thankful smirk. “You’re a really good friend, Sandiego.”

“Of course I am! I give the best hugs!” she claims while spreading her arms wide.

You’re not one for touchy feely emotions, but you never ignore one of Carmen’s infamous hugs. It doesn’t happen often with you, but you know that she’s very perceptive to your testy mood…and she’s gotten really good at knowing when to pull a hug out on you. So, you step into her embrace and wrap your arms around her gratefully as she squeezes you in close.

“I know that you find it difficult to open up, but I’ll always have your back,” she murmurs while drawing back from the hug. “And Graves too in his own weird and awkward way,” she adds with a soft and charming giggle.

You clutch her arms for a moment before breaking away from her friendly and supportive embrace. Everything she said about your rational objections to finally giving into the desire for your partner lessens a little, but you’re still apprehensive…mostly because you know it’ll still complicate things, maybe lead to losing your job. But as you look over your shoulder to gaze at the faint scar on your back in the mirror…you wonder if the spark of passion in his eyes will remain when he…if he…

“You don’t think that he’ll…” you trail off, looking away from your reflection while palming the deformed breast beneath your sultry dress.

Carmen looks at your reflection in the mirror and understands your unspoken question. “Oh hell no…I’m sure he’s seen his fair share of battle scars as a devil hunter,” she explains with a reassuring nod of her head. “But if you don’t feel comfortable…you don’t have to show your boobs to have a good time!” she suggests with a playful wiggle of her brow before scrunching her brow in defiance. “And if he makes a big deal of it, I will personally march right up to him and give him a stern talking to cos dammit I want this ship to sail!”

You laugh softly at the image of a pint-sized Carmen railing into a tall and intimidating Dante. “Never change, Sandiego,” you murmur with an appreciative smile.

“Back at ya, Quickdraw,” she replies, smiling warmly while pulling you in for a quick side hug.

It’s the third hug of the night, but you let it slide since you know that’s just how Carmen expresses…well, everything. Her support and friendship has always been a blessing, so you give in to the hug for a few moments before turning back to the mirror. Both of you finish touching up your hair and makeup before leaving the restroom with excited smiles.

Your chat with Carmen has softened your icy resolve, but you still feel hesitant about letting go of your control. The steely mask you wear has helped you get through some of the shittiest moments of your life, and it kept everyone away so that you’d never have to feel so betrayed ever again. It was necessary to keep that mask up just so you could go on living without fear of getting hurt while protecting others from your vile temper.

But as you weave through the crowd of patrons and approach your table, the sight of your partner turning his heated gaze towards you shakes that hardened mask out of place. It infuriates you that this dangerous and foolhardy devil hunter has somehow gotten under your skin and knows exactly what buttons to push to make you fly off the handle. And yet, a part of you likes that he’s been able to wriggle past your mask and see the deep-seated anger constantly raging inside you…and he’s still here looking at you like you’re the sexiest woman in the bar.

He's fucking crazy, you thought as your icy resolve melts a bit more.

Carmen glances at you with that See? Told ya! look as both of you make it back to the table. “Hey guys! Sorry to make ya wait!” she exclaims while taking her seat.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” Grayson responds with an amused smile. “Me and Dante here were just talking while guarding these drinks for you two,” he explains while waving towards an array of drinks on the table.

“Offers from interested patrons?” you inquire while taking your seat.

Carmen claps her hands excitedly. “Wow! We really made an impression, Quickdraw!”

You smirk at her enthusiasm but quirk a brow at the various fruity cocktails in front of you. There’s one that catches your eye…not flashy at all, but the deep reddish tint of the drink sticks out among the bright and colorful glasses.

“Ugh…not interested in these,” you grumble while pushing the fruity cocktails away with a disgusted grimace before grabbing the dark horse of the bunch.

Dante chuckles beside you. “Oof, that’s cold, Honeybee.”

“They took a gamble and lost,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders. “But this one…hmm,” you hum before taking a sip of the more simple cocktail. The richness of a decadent fruit, the spiciness of ginger, and the subtle kick of lime and tequila bursts on your tongue. You moan softly as it settles down in your gut and you nod your head approvingly at the drink.

Carmen’s mouth drops into an astounded gape. “Oh my god…someone finally got you a drink you like!”

“I know, right?” you quip with a soft chuckle. “Just wonder who-”

“Glad you like it, Honeybee.”

Your head whips around to glare at Dante with a suspicious squint of your eyes. “You ordered this drink for me?”

Dante leans forward with a pleased smirk. “The free drinks kept rolling in and the ones meant for you…I just knew you wouldn’t like all that sweet frou-frou crap,” he explains with a casual shrug. “So, I went up to the bartender and ordered something that fits you better,” he admits while meeting your eyes. “Something sweet with a kick of spice that keeps you coming back for more.”

Your thighs clench beneath the table at his suggestive words. But you manage to keep your face composed despite the giddiness of receiving the perfect drink from the irresistible devil hunter who seems hell bent on using every advantage to break through your cold façade. Your eyes never stray away from his pleased gaze as you take another sip of your drink, honing on how his eyes dip down low as your tongue peeks out to lick your lips.

“It’s pretty damn good,” you murmur with a satisfied smirk.

Dante smirks back with a flirty wink. “I aim to please, Honeybee.”

You rub your thighs together to ease the pleasurable ache between your legs as you struggle to steer the conversation towards a more lighthearted topic. But the overwhelming need and desire brewing in your gut takes the reins, wrangling control and directing you towards the fastest route that will bring him even closer.

“Do you know how to salsa?” you ask before taking another sip of your drink.

Dante furrows his brow. “Never taught, but I’m a quick learner,” he reveals while turning his head towards the dance floor. “I’ve been watching for a while and taking in the steps, so I think I can handle it.”

You glance over at the dance floor and back at him before chugging the rest of the drink with a satisfying sigh. Dante’s inquisitive gaze meets your blazing eyes as you slam the empty glass on the table. Your lips curl into a sultry smile as you get up from your seat and extend your hand to him.

“Wanna dance?”

Dante takes your hand and rises from his seat with a smoldering smirk. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The warmth of his hand on your skin sheds another layer of your icy resolve as you lead him onto the dance floor. A part of you thinks that this is absolute madness and clamors to get away from this precarious situation as soon as possible. But your simmering desire spurs you to push that part down as you press your body against him.

“Let’s see what ya got,” you whisper close to his lips, raking your hand along his arm before linking your fingers together and gripping his shoulder with your other hand.

“Careful, Honeybee…you’ll burn down the bar if you keep this up,” he murmurs with a husky chuckle while wrapping his arm around your waist.

You smirk at his compliment, but instantly straighten your stance as a fun and playful salsa beat starts blaring through the speakers. Then, you wait for him to take the lead with a challenging quirk of your brow. Dante grips you tighter as both of your feet fly across the dance floor, meeting each other’s fiery steps along with some improvised flair. You have to admit…he’s not too shabby after only learning the steps from observation alone. And the way he flings you away with a passionate flick of wrist before reeling you in closer, staring down at you like you’re the only woman in the bar while dancing among a gaggle of scantily clad bodies…it’s too good to be true.

“You might get some drinks yourself after this,” you comment over the music.

Dante chuckles as he directs you to take a sharp turn. “Maybe…but I don’t want them.”

You quirk your brow as both of your bodies meld together. “Really? Why’s that?”

“Not interested,” he replies while leading you into a wide step before bringing you in close. “Especially if all it gets me is a bunch of frou-frou fruity crap.”

You laugh softly as your hand on his shoulder moves up to his neck. “I wouldn’t buy you one of those kinds of drinks.”

“Oh really?” he questions with a playful quirk of his brow. “What would you get me?” he inquires while turning aside to let you improvise some moves.

You smirk as your leg kicks high before spinning away from him, winding back and wrapping your leg around his waist. Then, you lean closer to his face, barely touching his lips as you utter the answer to his question.

“A whiskey neat.”

“Damn,” he whispers as your leg drags down against his leather pants. “You’ve seen right through me.”

You shrug your shoulders as he leads you into a series of fervid steps. “I just noticed the empty whiskey bottles littering your office,” you admit with a smug grin. “Just a lucky guess,” you add before he’s spinning you away and bringing you back into his embrace while pressing his lips against your ear.

“We both know that you don’t need a drink to get my attention.”

Your body shivers as his candid words tickle your ear. You laugh softly under your breath and glance up at him, wondering if he really means it. The tantalizing smirk on his lips along with that spark of red glimmering in his eyes as he squeezes you closer, pressing that shameless bulge between his legs against you…

Oh yeah, he definitely means it, you concede, subtly swiveling your hips against him as you wonder how much he’s packing down there.

Both of you continue to touch and tease while holding each other’s desirous gaze throughout the fervent salsa until the energetic music ends. Then, you lead him away from the dance floor by the hand towards the bar and get him a whiskey neat. He gives you a grateful smile and takes a hearty sip of his drink as you order the same cocktail he got you earlier, which is actually called El Diablo.

“Why am I not surprised?” you murmur with an amused roll of your eyes before taking a sip of your devilish cocktail.

Dante chuckles. “What can I say? Couldn’t resist getting a lil devil in ya!”

You lick your lips with a suggestive quirk of your brow. “Just a little?”

That irresistible spark of red flashes hotly in his striking blue eyes as he leans in closer. “Think you can handle more?” he asks with an enticing smirk.

You chug the rest of your drink before turning your sultry gaze back on him. “Fuck yeah.”

Your heart pounds faster at the sound of his deep and sensual purr of approval. Dante quickly finishes his whiskey in one smooth gulp before offering his hand with an eager grin and a wiggle of his brow. You roll your eyes at his shameless enthusiasm, but your lips curve into an excited smile as you grab his hand and return to the dance floor.

Both of you dance for what seems like all night, but you know from experience that time passes differently on the dance floor. Everything and everyone fades away except for you and Dante. The steely mask you wear like armor has been lifted fully off your face with every spin and turn while holding each other close. You can’t remember that last time you had so much fun…and you never would’ve guessed that you’d be sharing this rare moment with the notorious Legendary Devil Hunter that annoys the fuck out of you, but somehow still manages charm you with his devilishly rousing antics.

After a few salsas and a fiery samba with a lot of shaking hips, the mood suddenly shifts as a more sensual beat plays through the speakers. You quirk your brow at Dante questioningly as couples start dancing to the slow and smooth music. He studies the small crowd for a few moments, taking in their steps with an intense concentration that you don’t see often on his handsome face. Then, he turns to you and offers his hand with a confident smirk.

Well, he did say he was a quick learner, you thought while taking his hand with a curious tilt of your head. But can he really learn a new dance after only watching for a few seconds?

It only takes the first four beats to get your answer. He easily matches your own subtle swivel of hips before leading you in the smooth steps of the rumba. You thought he was a natural at the salsa because it matches his own level of fiery and flirty fun, but you have to admit that he does this dance justice too. Your eyes stay on his face, but the slow sway of his hips beg for attention as both of you glide across the dance floor.

“Damn, you’re really good,” you remark with an impressed smirk.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” he quips back with a teasing smile.

“Not so bad?” you repeat with a disapproving quirk of your brow. “I’m a fucking great dancer and you know it!”

Dante chuckles softly. “Oh I know it, Honeybee,” he reassures while leading you into a spiral turn before facing you again. “You’ve got the moves to keep up with a devil like me!”

Your lips curl into a proud smile. “And we make a pretty team off the dance floor too…it usually takes me a while to put my full trust in a new partner,” you admit with a thoughtful tilt of your head. “But somehow you…” Your words trail off as he spins you around to face away from him, still holding your hand as your hips swivel with your improvised steps that exude sensual anticipation.

“You feelin’ it too?”

The soft and hopeful tone of his whisper by your ear urges you to be honest. “Hate to admit it…but yeah.”

Dante hisses playfully as he wraps his arm around your waist. “Oof, you never fail to sting me so good, Honeybee!”

“I didn’t mean…I’m not good at…fuck,” you stammer with a small sigh before spinning around to face him again.

“Hey, it’s okay!” he assures with a soft smile. “I’m just teasing ya…but I gotta ask,” he begins while staring down at you with an uncharacteristically serious gleam in his eyes. “Is it me?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

“Being a half devil and all,” he clarifies with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Can’t really blame ya for not giving whatever’s going on between us a chance.”

“Fucking really?” you growl as that ever-present anger bubbles up in your gut. “You think-” you cut yourself off while turning your furious gaze away from him with sharp snap of your head. Then, you take a deep breath and turn your fiery gaze back towards him as the slow and sensual steps of the dance eases some of the tempestuous fire surging through your body. “I don’t give a damn about that, Dante.”

“Really?” he questions with a skeptical snort. “Most people would be wary.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” you retort before wrenching yourself from his lead with a sharp twist of your body.

You back up a few steps from him and pin him down with your savagely ardent gaze as you move to the seductive beat of the music. Your body sways slowly with every step, the alluring twirl of your hips flashing your upper thighs with a teasing flick of your dress as your hands caress your neck and chest. Then, you spin back towards him gracefully and press yourself against his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Dante wraps his arms around you with a pleased purr. “No, you’re definitely not.”

“I know I can be a raging bitch sometimes,” you admit as both of your hips sway together. “But I’ve never had a problem with you being a half devil.”

“But if it’s not that…what’s stopping you?” he asks while gripping your hips tight.

You remain silent while collecting your thoughts, basking in the closeness of your bodies as they sway against each other before speaking. “It’s just…all I have left is my flimsy career and a battered reputation that’s hanging on by a thread,” you explain with a concerned furrow of your brow. “I’m on thin ice and giving into this might…I’m nothing without my badge.”

“Not so sure about that,” he counters as his adoring gaze makes you feel like you’re dancing on airy clouds. “I’ve heard some amazing stories about what you’ve done from people who remember how you helped them,” he adds with an admirable smirk. “Pretty sure that has nothing to do with your badge,” he points out before leading you down into a simmering slow dip, never taking his eyes away from you as your legs spread out into a side split. “Besides, I’m just a consultant,” he adds before scooping you back up into his arms.

“Yeah, a consultant who’s infamous for being a devil hunter and the Son of Sparda, which will get the attention of the press who have no problem throwing someone under the bus for a juicy story,” you argue with a vicious growl as both of you fall in line with the sensual beat of the music.

Dante stares down at your conflicted face. “Alright, I’m startin’ to get the picture, and I get it,” he agrees with an understanding nod of his head. “But that just means we’ll have to keep it quiet.”

You quirk your brow skeptically. “You? Quiet?”

“Yeah, I know…but I can keep a secret!” he promises with a charming smile. “Especially if it lets me be with you.”

You want to believe him…but there’s still a stubborn part of you that refuses to think that he wants a temperamental detective who had no qualms about sticking one of your many hidden daggers deep into his gut just a day ago.

“Still don’t see why you’re so insistent,” you claim with a challenging tilt of your chin. “You could have any woman in this bar without any hangups.”

Dante just smirks and pulls you closer. “But they’re not you,” he murmurs while leading you into another low dip. “So fiery and feisty when you let it show,” he continues as you arch your back and lean down before stopping just above the dance floor. Then, your hair drifts through the air as you shift your body to the side, displaying your cleavage to the surrounding patrons and your devilish partner before popping back up into his steady arms.

“And you’re so smokin’ hot that it sets the devil in me on fire whenever I’m near you,” he admits with a fierce purr while his hands roam your curves.

“Dante,” you gasp, shivering under his touch as the last shred of your control gets blasted to cinders.

Dante clutches your hips and grinds his crotch between your legs. You thread your fingers through his white hair as your dance becomes more…sexual and needy. Every swivel of his hips brushes against your own as he grinds against your soaked panties. And your icy resolve melts away completely as he rests his head between your brow.

“I can smell how wet you are for me,” he whispers with a husky groan.

Your body ignites at his words, both riled up and exhilarated by the arousing thought of him knowing how fucking turned on you are. You moan softly while staring into his striking blue eyes, relishing the gleam of red-hot desire sparkling in his hungry gaze. His fingers dig into your hips as you draw even closer, no longer fighting the headiness of your dance and the scorching attraction to him. The feel of his warm breath brushing against your mouth goes straight between your legs, making you even wetter as both of your lips linger…so close that all you have to do is tilt your head and beckon the devil closer with a fiery kiss.

But the sensual music suddenly ends and the rumbling chatter of the patrons come rushing in, instantly shattering the intimate and intoxicating moment into pieces. You draw back but keep your arms around him as a more upbeat and vibrant song starts blaring through the speakers. Dante closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh but makes no move to let you go.

That makes two of us, you thought morosely as a crowd of people surround both of you.

Your head swivels around to look at the lively patrons flitting across the dance floor and you suddenly feel…really pissed off. You know it’s not their fault, but you resent them for breaking the intense and blazing hot moment between you and your partner. Normally, you’d be thankful for the distraction from giving into this searing attraction. But now that you’ve had a taste, you crave more and there’s no way in hell that a bunch of drunken patrons will stop you.

So, you turn back to Dante with an inviting smirk. “I need some air,” you murmur with a breathy sigh while meeting his disappointed gaze. “Mind giving me a ride?” you ask while grinding against the hard bulge in his leather pants.

Dante moans softly as his eyes light up with a renewed spark of fiery red desire. Then, he leans down close with a devastating smirk that promises to go a lot further than your dance as he stokes the flames of your desire with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“It’d be my pleasure, Honeybee.”

🔪❤️‍🔥🔪

#dante x reader #dante #devil may cry #dmc #detective reader #murder mystery #the devil's in the details #we're getting so close #I can taste it #harlot writes

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1-sasha-stuff-1 · 5 months

Text

The Hunger Games: The Rise of the Phoenix

A/n:

Sorry I haven't posed on either story; I'll start writing for the other story soon enough. But I hope you enjoy the new chapter for this one!

| | | | | | |

Y/n sat quietly in her compartment, the clatter of the train blending with the distant hum of conversations that Effie was having with Mineta.

Gazing out the window, she watched the landscape as they left District 12. The trees merged into a continuous green blur, and her eyes caught sight of a figure, shrouded within the trees.

Sitting up straighter on her bed, she focused on the figure standing behind the tree.

They wore vibrant dresses. The skirt was a cascade of ruffles, boasting hues of raspberry pink, royal blue, and sunflower yellow. The bodice resembled a corset, adorned with a blouse underneath. Their dark curls danced in the breeze as they seemed to lock eyes with her, beautiful brown eyes meeting Y/n’s own.

Noticing movement behind the mysterious woman, Y/n saw other faces—some younger, some older. As she leaned towards the window for a clearer view, a knock interrupted her, prompting her to pivot towards the door and invite the visitor inside.

Effie entered, striding towards Y/n’s closet and flinging open the doors as she spoke.

“Oh, why haven’t you changed?! You need to be ready for the Capitol, darling. You can’t present yourself in…um, that.”

Looking down at her attire, Y/n saw nothing amiss with the faded colors and the slightly frayed edges of her clothes.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong?!”

Effie stared at her as if she had seen an apparition. Composing herself, Effie smiled at Y/n and gestured towards her outfit.

“What you’ve got on, young lady, is—no offense—horrendous! The Capitol won’t approve, and I certainly don’t! Come here; I’ll fix you right up!”

She grasped Y/n’s arms and guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. Effie then rummaged through the closet, muttering her thoughts on each garment she examined. “Too dark, ew, too mucky, mmmmm…. that’s not bad, but it isn’t you…”

“Effie, it’s fine. I can keep wearing this—”

“Ha! I found the perfect one!”

Effie produced the ideal shade of f/c dress from the closet, presenting it to Y/n with a beaming smile. The f/c silk flowed through Y/n’s fingers like water, devoid of any wrinkles or creases.

“Well? Try it on!”

Effie encouraged as she headed for the door. Opening it, she stepped through and offered a few parting words before closing it behind her.

“I’ll be waiting in the main area.”

As the door shut, Y/n proceeded to the bathroom to shower. It took her a moment to figure out the shower’s mechanics, but once she did, she never wanted to leave.

Immersed in the shower, Y/n’s thoughts drifted away from the figures in the forest. But unbeknownst to her, they hadn’t forgotten about her—and they never would.

| | | | | | | | | | |

“Oh, darling, I told you you’d look beautiful!”

“And hot! Oh, I would give anything to have a peek underneath that—”

“I will kill you right here, right now if you don’t shut the hell up, Mineta. I don’t care if the games haven’t started yet.”

You sat in an empty royal blue armchair with gold lining, crossed your leg over another, and glared daggers at the boy as his face had gone white and he had started to shake uncontrollably. You guessed it was a good thing that you wore black leggings underneath the dress after all.

“Oh, honey, those shoes? Out of all the other ones, you chose those?”

“Yeah, I like them, and I’ll die in them too.”

The shoes you wore were f/c Converse. Like hell you would change into those uncomfortable high heels. And besides, you always dreamed of these shoes since you first saw them on some random tribute who had gone into the Hunger Games a couple of years back.

“Well, at least they match.”

Effie smiled at you, and you returned it, now turning to stare out the window. You noticed a tunnel coming up ahead, and once the train entered, everything turned pitch black.

In the dark, you could hear a door open and close as someone seemed to have entered. Mineta gave a small squeak, and Effie gasped as you all heard something shatter on the floor.

Suddenly standing, you grabbed the nearest thing within your reach, which happened to be a lamp, and gripped it in your dominant hand, pulled back and ready to throw it at the mysterious person in the dark room.

You walked silently towards the person’s silhouette, wondering who it could be—a guard? Another tribute you had yet to meet. You didn’t know, nor did you want to wait around and find out. These were the Hunger Games, after all, and like hell you’d die before they even got to the Capitol.

Now walking right behind the person, you raised the lamp and bashed it on the person’s head. Their hands flew up to their head, and you prepared to bash it once more, but they whipped around and grabbed hold of the lamp and threw it across the room, causing a few dishes or something to crash on the floor and shatter.

Mineta was now fully crying, while Effie was shouting.

“What is going on?!”

“I don’t wanna die! I promise not to say those words again, Y/n! Don’t kill me!”

The mystery person was now walking towards you as you started to back up. Desperate, you grabbed something (a wine bottle, if you had to guess) and swung it at their face, the sound of glass shattering was heard.

What seemed to have been hours, the train finally came out of the tunnel, and the light flooded back into the room.

As you looked around the room, you saw that Effie was slightly shaken up, while Mineta was still crying and hugging Effie’s leg. You looked in your hands and saw the remains of a wine bottle, blood slowly dripping from the glass edges and onto your hand.

Looking up, you saw that the mysterious person you had hit was a middle-aged man. His hair was a dark blond color, with streaks of gray. His gray eyes bore into yours, and the room became quiet. Effie, seeming to recognize the man, gasped slightly, but cleared her throat.

“Mineta, Y/n, he’s your mentor—”

“Haymitch.”

The man, Haymitch, said as he finished Effie’s sentence. He brought his hand up to his cheek and touched the wound that you had just given him. Blood trickled down his face, staining his stubble.

“Great, you just gave me a new scar, kid.” He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He glared at you, as if daring you to attack him again.

A surge of anger and fear flooded into your mind as you glared back at Haymitch. You knew who he was, everyone knew him. He was the victor of the 50th annual Hunger games, and a drunk man who wasted his life away in the victors village, drinking his life away with every bottle of alcohol he could get his hands on. You felt anger because he’s glaring at you, but you also felt fear. Fear because this sad excuse of a man is supposed to mentor you and teach you how to survive. Somehow, you don’t think that’s going to be happening anytime soon.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was you,” you said trying to sound calm and collected. “I thought you were someone else, an intruder.”

“Intruder? On a train full of guards and cameras? Don’t be ridiculous kid, you're lucky that I didn’t kill you right there on the spot.” Haymitch said as he grabbed a nearby napkin and wiped off the blood from his face.

“You must have been really brave, or really stupid to have attacked your own mentor.”

He was getting on your nerves, so you decided that staying quiet had lasted long enough.

“Well at least I’m not some drunk guy wasting my days when people are dying out there.”

“Excuse me?” The older man said as he took a couple more steps toward you, but before anything else could happen Effie interfered, placing herself in the middle while holding a hand out at Haymitch and taking the broken bloody bottle out of your hand and placed it onto the table.

“Now Haymitch, she didn’t know any better, she’s only a child.”

Haythich snorted, as if he found what Effie had said amusing.

“A child? She’s a tribute, Effie, and a good one that is. She’s a fighter, she’s no child. And she’s a weapon, a damn good one too.”

He looked at you once more, a hint of admiration in his eyes. You felt a curiosity and confusion rise, why did he switch up his attitude and opinion on you so fast? You didn’t have time to ask as Haymitch continued.

“But she’s reckless, impulsive, and naive. Why? Because she didn’t think twice or about the consequences on what would’ve happened after she attacked me. I’d be lying if I said she wasn't something I needed to see one day.”

“Haythich, I don’t know if that’s you really saying those words, or just the liquor talking.” Effie said as she now stood beside you so you and Haymitch now faced each other and he answered back to her.

“It’s not the liquor or I’d be saying all sorts of shit right now.”

He then gestured towards Mineta, who was still sobbing on the floor. Y/n felt a pang of disgust and pity for him. Haymitch looked at the younger male, he was there when they picked the tributes. He knew right away -and the events that had just occurred confirmed it- that he was nothing like you. He was weak, cowardly, and not to mention perverted.

“That boy, he has no chance of surviving my training. And if he can’t handle me, then he has absolutely no chance of surviving the Hunger games.”

Effie slightly tried to stutter out a response while Mineta stopped crying and was now sniffling as he talked.

“I’m not gonna d-die, right? I-I want to go home!”

Haymitch raised his hand and Mineta stopped talking, he then pointed at the purple headed boy with slight disgust in his eyes.

“Why would I train and waste my energy on someone weak like you, when I have this,” He grabbed onto your shoulders and pushed you in front of him, shaking you slightly as if showing off a new toy he received for his birthday.

“A monster in the making?”

Mineta looked heartbroken, but it was true, all of what Haymitch had said. He was weak and useless. He had no muscle whatsoever, no skill, always relying on others, and just plain out useless. There wasn't even a slimmer chance that he was going to get at least one sponsor to help him out in the games.

Effie hadn't said anything more as she looked at Haymitch, a questioning expression on her face.

“Then what are you going to do with him?”

Haymitch laughed.

He really just plain out laughed and it unnerved you, you tried to move away from him but his grip on your shoulders increased and held you in place.

After a few minutes, he finally settled down and stopped laughing. Sighing, he looked at Effie.

“Oh Effie, Effie, Effie, I’m not going to do anything about him. He’s all yours, train him how you like. But this one,”

He gestured at you as he patted your shoulders.

“I’m turning this one into a killing machine.”

| | | | | | A/n:

I actually felt bad for Mineta for a second 💀.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I had to run this thing through AI so it could detect any words or phrases that didn't make sense so I could fix it and suggest some tips on how to improve my writing, since I'm a newbie at writing. But I also started journaling in a notebook I had laying around so that should help me a little. I also just got off for winter break at school, thank god for that 🙏🏽.

I hope you enjoy your winter break and have a good rest of your day!

#for you #bakugo katsuki #hitoshi shinsou #fanfic #mha #mha fanfiction #dabi #mha x reader #all for one #all might #the hunger games #thg series #thg fanfiction #platonic haymitch #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #gale #hunger games

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abbatoirablaze · 7 months

Text

The Girl With Two Dragons, Chapter 12

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: rape, noncon relationship, mentions of violence, daggers, mentions of character death.

“You’ll never see him again,” he moaned, his hips thrusting hard against her core. Daemhyra sobbed, her arms pulling the ropes until they were rubbing her already raw wrists and ankles. He groaned once more as he felt her getting wetter, “is the idea of me keeping that monster away from you getting you wet, princess? Is the thought of me emptying my royal seed into you turning you on, you whore?”

“Stop, Aegon. Stop!” she begged; her attempts to fight him off for nothing while he continued to mock her, "p-please...I-"

"Shut up, whore!" he spat, his hand lashing out and catching her lip, "when I want you to open your mouth I should put my cock in it!"

“Now that my brother is leaving for Lord Borros’ territory….you and I have some unfinished business that we really must attend to. It's been far too long, and I've waited much longer than necessary,” he began, opening the door to his chambers. Nearly half a dozen of the king’s guard filed into the room, making Daemhyra feel on edge, “Daemhyra…if you follow my orders, this will be very easy…get on the bed.”

“W-what is going on?”

“Your king commands you to get on the bed, whore!” one of the guards barked, causing her to jump.

Daemhyra looked at the guard, shocked to hear him speaking to her in such a manner.

“Get on the bed, Daemhyra. Lay on your back.”

“You cannot force me, Aegon!” she growled.

Aegon chuckled and snapped his fingers, causing the guards to fall into a cadence as they made their way towards her.

“Let me go,” she begged as he emptied himself into her for the umpteenth time that night. Her tears were slipping down her cheeks as she fought the ties which kept her in place, “AEGON! STOP!”

Her throat felt like it'd been rubbed raw with how much she'd begged him to stop already, but she continued on, her voice hoarse.

“I will go as long as I wish...and with you, my sweet, fertile whore...I feel as though I could go for days. Your pussy is so tight...did my brother really have that small a prick that he couldn't loosen your cunt? No worries cousin...I'll take my time and loosen you up with my royal cock,” he growled firmly as his hips stuttered to a finish, “oh, Daemhyra!”

His fingers trailed over her lip which had split, then up to her brow. He frowned.

He was gentle in the way his fingers danced over the bruise that had started to form over her brow, “they shouldn’t have struck you…that guard will pay for what he did to you. I can tell you that now, Daemhyra. I'll put his head on a pike for that.”

“Because only you can bruise me up, right, Aegon?” she taunted tiredly.

“You are my property, Daemhyra…”

“I am no such thing," she disagreed quickly, "I belong to Aemond. I am your brother’s wife.”

“And we’ve gone over how you are lucky in the fact that I will not simply force you to drink the tea, or cut his spawn from your stomach!” he growled in response, “be happy in the fact that I show you that kindness, Daemhyra. You’ll have your reminder of your time with Aemond, and I will have you every night, as my second queen. It all works out for the best.”

Daemhyra spat at him, “I will never be yours.”

“It has been two days since I wrote my treaty to Lord Borros,” he reminded her softly, “two evenings I have enjoyed the carnal nature of emptying myself into you. Two nights since I made the priest complete the rites of the new gods and married us. You may say that you are never going to be mine, but I’ve already had your body, Daemhyra. I’ve already claimed your spirituality when I wed you.”

“You will never have my heart!”

Aegon chuckled, “I don’t need your heart to put a child into you once this one is born! All I need is your pussy!”

“You are nothing but a spineless quim,” she retorted, spitting at him once more, “you’re no king. You’re not even a man. You’re just a spineless, scared little boy who stole his brother's wife, because he'll never be loved in the way that he was.”

He was quick to slap her. Her head snapped against the pillows, “do not forget your place, Daemhyra. You are not my first wife. You will be my second. Which means you should be grateful for every time I choose you to lay in my bed with me.”

“I am not a bed warmer, Aegon!”

“Oh, but you are. And you are also my wife now!” he growled, grabbing her jaw once more, “you are my bed warmer. My whore. My wife. YOU ARE WHATEVER I SAY YOU ARE TO BE! IF I WANT YOU BEGGING ON YOUR KNEES TO BE SUCKLING ON MY COCK YOU WILL DO SO! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

“Let. Me. Go!”

The rage that had filled him once more faded as he let go of her and rolled away from the bed, “I’m going to bathe myself…after that, I expect you to be on your knees.”

“The only way I will be on my knees is if you have cut off my head and I can no longer stand.”

“That would be far to easy, my unofficial, secret queen!” he taunted, walking towards the copper tub in nothing but his birthday suit. He grabbed a simple tunic and threw it on before starting towards the door. Opening it, he started addressing the guard, “find one of the chamber maids. Alert them that my wife and myself would like a hot bath drawn.”

“I’m not going to bathe with you, Aegon!”

“You will do what I say,” he reminded her, “now…do you wish to lay naked, tied to the bed when the chamber maid comes in, or are you going to be civil? Because if you can promise that you will be civil I will allow you to throw on one of my tunics for modesty’s purposes.”

She looked away from him, unwilling to answer.

“Well?”

“I do not wish to be exposed.”

“Good,” he nodded. He reached towards the bedside stand and reached for a dagger. Tucking it underneath the rope, Daemhyra didn’t move as he cut away the bondage and turned towards the closet once more to grab her a tunic, “all it takes is for you to-“

“Not another word!” Daemhyra uttered.

In the simple time that it had taken him to put the dagger back down and turn to grab a tunic, Daemhyra had grabbed it and was now pointing it towards Aegon.

“You would really kill your king?”

“You are not my king, Aegon!” she said firmly, “and I am no queen. I am a warrior who was forced to marry a sniveling baby!”

“Be careful with your words,” he answered, “wife or not, if you cross some lines it could be considered treason!”

“Oh no, cousin,” Daemhyra replied, with a shake of her head, “you had your chance to kill me and you refused to take it…I know where your priorities lie...they lay with you and wetting your pathetic cock”

“What about Aemond?” he asked, knowing that it was a sore subject for her, “are you really going to leave him behind to run off to Dragonstone? I assume you're heading to Dragonstone to be protected by your father? He's the only one that is stupid enough to take you in once word is received around the realm that you are a traitor.”

"Go to hell..."

"You know, I should think that right about now, Aemond must have gone along with my letter and is promised to one of the lord's daughters," he taunted, "I think as though he might be relieved when he finds out just how much of a whore his wife was when she married me and took my cock for nearly a week before running away!"

“He made his choices, Aegon…and now I must make mine!”

He went to step forward, and she whipped the blade around, catching his arm and slicing it open. Aegon wailed out in pain, and she whistled.

Shaedowir appeared at the window, his large eyes looking into the chambers to see his rider in distress.

“Stay!” she commanded, running towards the window as the guards flung the door open.

“DON’T HURT HER!” Aegon commanded throughout his pain as she managed to make it out the window and onto her dragon’s back.

Daemhyra could make out the crown even before she had managed to land.

Outside in the courtyard, she could see her birth mother staring at a pyre.

Instinctively she felt her stomach turn.

Someone was already dead.

The people of Dragonstone looked up to the sky as she came into their line of vision. Had she not had both Shaedowir and Wynstrun, she was sure that they would have attempted to shoot her down. But her dragons made everyone aware of who the rider in the sky was as she started her descent.

A shiver ran down her spine when she caught the sadness in everyone’s eyes as she slid off of Shadeowir’s back. She’d reached for her satchel and held it close to herself, feeling for the two eggs that were warm.

Her father stood stock still, not daring to step towards her.

Even her grandmother, Rhaenys stood with her other granddaughters.

But it was her birth mother who made the first move, running towards Daemhyra.

"My child!" She broke down into tears, sobbing as she wrapped her arms around her own first born, "oh Daemhyra...my child. You are alive!"

Daemhyra didn’t know how to react.

She and her mother were never really close.

But she could tell that she needed her.

"Wh-what's going on?" she asked gently, looking at the somber expressions of her family, "who is that pyre for? I do not see a body."

“Your brother, Lucerys, is dead, Daemhyra.”

The cement that felt like it was in the pit of her stomach suddenly disappeared as she pulled away to look at her mother, “Wh-what? Lucerys is dead?”

“Prince Aemond and his dragon Vhagar killed him…just a few hours ago. Vhagar swallowed him and Arrax whole,” she admitted, “Aemond killed your brother, Daemhyra.”

Her lips parted, and she didn't know what to say. Rhaenyra gave her a solemn, but relieved look as she took her hands in her own, "we have lost your brother...but I was worried when I received word from King's landing of your status. Rhaenys said you helped her escape, and I feared that your head might already be on a pike..."

"I-I'm not dead," she mutterred quickly, exposing the swell of her stomach and the eggs within the satchel that had been hidden beneath her thick winter cloak, "Aegon forced me to marry him...but I'm carrying Aemond's child...because he and I wed of the old rites...I-"

"You're carrying his spawn?" Jacerys scowled, glaring at his elder sister, "and you came here? To Dragonstone?"

"Jacery-"

Her younger brother unsheathed his sword, his nostrils flaring as his rage unwound. Off in the distance Daemhyra could hear his dragon bellowing, "cut the bastard from her belly and send it back to him in pieces...make an examp-"

"She is your sister!" Rhaenyra growled, immediately holding her daughter close to herself, "you will not harm any member of our family that is here."

"She let him fuck her!"

Daemon stepped forward, unsheathing his own sword, "put away your weapons, Jacerys...I will not tell you a second time. You will not raise a sword to my daughter."

"Please..." Daemhyra begged softly as she stepped out from her mother's shadow, "I have no ill will towards you Jacerys...I came to the one place that I know I can count on everyone."

"And what of your precious husband?" he growled, "the one that killed Luke?"

"As far as I'm concerned, he made his choice when he went to Lord Borros on Vhagar and he left me and our babe behind. Ancient rites or not...I have no husband now." she answered firmly, looking at her younger brother. When he didn't respond she turned towards her mother and father, giving them each a firm look, "tell me how I can help. We're going to destroy that usurper and everyone that stands in our way..."

Daemon nodded to his daughter, putting his sword up in the air, "all hail Queen Rhaenyra. The rightful queen of the realm!"

"All hail Queen Rhaenyra!" everyone chanted over the roaring pyre.

#the girl with 2 dragons #the girl with two dragons #rhaenyra targeryan #queen rhaenyra #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #house black #daemon targeryan #jacerys targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen

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whataphantasia · 8 months

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oog i keep forgetting to post here,,, i did a really big oc x canon promptlist on my alt twitter acc like, last year, and i like the stuff i did for it so im posting it here :3

day 1: dancing

needed to draw this for the fic where they dance at prom and a destroyed universe respectively ^_^

day 2: stargazing. the thumbnail image at the top :D

day 3: phone call

day 4: (not so) sneaky glances

ely sits inbetween these two in class. they have to deal with them staring daggers at each other. very stressful sorry ely </3 here's the doodle from like 2019 that made me wanna draw this

also like there's this moment in the fic where eadr is watching mysterious mysteries together and..... HSHSBDHSHDGDHDHS

day 5: "i'm proud of you"

THESE TWO NEED VALIDATION SO BAD RAGHHH don't @ me about the lighting on zim IK ITS REVERSED,,,

day 6: music/playlist. i didn't make any art for this but i did show off my playlists for zaeadr :D i will not elaborate here bc I Don't Feel Like It.

day 7: whispers

this is actually a redraw... :3c specieswap eadr! so cute :)

day 8: closeness

ok i didnt actually make any new art for this i just posted two old ones from 2021 LOL

day 9: protectiveness (CW blood)

dib and zim r dangerous to have as love interests come on ely 😔

day 10: "how was your day" (CW blood as well)

ely needs to tell him to stop tracking blood into the house.....

day 11: one wish

WOW something NOT ely related?! anyways ana and ad's whole love arc is kinda like... they both have responsibilities and unrequited feelings. moreso than my other oc x canon pairings. i think them a lot

day 12: matching accessories

cove jumpscare. IDK I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE MATCHING KEYCHAINS HE BUYS FOR MC... this is reiner btw i was playing as xim in my like 3rd playthrough >_< xe's fond of spoiling him with gifts, more than my other mcs...

day 13: nightmare

it took me 13 days to break and make sans x shelby art SJWKDJWJ anyway. shelby doesn't meet him pre-corruption but whatever i think they're cute

day 14: makeup

I HATE THIS DRAWING RAAAA but ely likes asking to do his nails ^_^ even tho theyre terrible at it but he doesnt mind :3c

day 15: "you are my happiness"

ok uhh my bad this isn't oc x canon LOL. but... erfi and ana... have a lot of angst like halfway/early in their arc bc erfi sees her as a beacon of light/savior, especially due to her current relationship with the ppl in her life.................... they get better dw!!! ad goes through a similar arc so i think that was how i tied it into the oc x canon promptlist LMAO

day 16: indirect kiss

SODA BOTTLE... IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW. i've talked about this scene in the fic NON STOP to my close friends.... its when dib realizes he has a crush on ely...... i drew this like in 2021 SHWJSJW

day 17: morning cuddles

SORRY i just think it's a super funny possibility that zim becomes domestic. idc if it's out of character thats why its funny U_U!!

oh and uhm yea i have a fankid 4 these guys... have i talked abt her... i dont think i have... but ive drawn her a lot... maybe ill post more art abt her later...

day 18: photoshoot

uhhhmmm im gonna crop this for my tumblr.... yea.... anyways i love the possibility that when they're adults they become super popular, like in dib's wonderful life of doom X)

day 19: voicemail. THAT ONE THING I POSTED!! yes it was a shelby x error thing. i was listening to pick up the phone by fir at the time, which like, its not the errorshelby dynamic at all they're not toxic, but. the vibes... in the fic after shelby leaves the anti void he has a massive crisis... thats what the drawing is...

day 20: "what happened to you"

BRO I HAVE SO MANY IMAGES RELATED TO THIS FOR ANA AND ADAMAÏ... the images explain everything idc read them instead

day 22/23: hand made gift, late night drive

ummmm sooooo theres this chapter in the fic where they go to an echo flower field on the surface at night........ this is that.... DIES

that last one i never posted on twitter :0c and uhm thats all i did of the 30 day promptlist! it was fun! i got to draw so much... yay :3 thats all. explodes in embarrassment

#ph_art #ph_ramb #ph_iz #ph iz:ss #ph_ut #ph_wakfu #zaeadr #phoc_elycrowe #phoc_reiner #phoc_anastasieteilun #phoc_shelbyquill #phoc_erfi #ah yes ive madeANOTHER long ass post my FAVORITE

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

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Dances and Daggers

Summary: The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 12: The Letter

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Word Count: 1,582

Chapter Summary: The events of the Games have Teki’s head spinning.

A/N: This is the calm before the storm.

Thanks for reading!

TW: Mentions of child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Teki picked at the sash of her dress as she sat in her seat on the podium. Before her, the Games continued in all their raucous glory, but she barely registered them. Odin hadn’t spared her even a passing glance when he returned to his seat. Frigga had given her a reassuring smile, but there was a tightness in her face that blocked any comfort she may have intending to bring. Her mind was racing.

What are they thinking? Are they angry? Am I in trouble? Are they going to tell Osvald? Does he know what happened?

And then there was the other thing. The thing that Loki had said just before she went rushing from the tent.

I don’t want you to marry my brother.

Teki didn’t even know how to try to untangle her thoughts on that.

The words still rattled in her head even as she readied for bed that night, once she realized that Osvald was far too drunk to remember whether or not she stayed in her seat the entire day. After helping Brant into his nightclothes and tucking him in, Teki returned to her room in a pensive silence.

I don’t want you to marry my brother.

A secret, selfish part of her had always wanted him to say that. It had been easy to deny when it was hidden away, out of sight. She could ignore the butterflies that fluttered to life every time he smiled at her when it seemed she was the only one who could feel them. But Loki had released them into the wild, and now they were impossible to corral.

I don’t want to marry your brother either.

Tears prickled across her vision. Teki wiped at her eyes in frustration. None of them wanted it. Loki, Thor, Sif, herself—none of them wanted this engagement. And none of them mattered.

She dug under her mattress for her father’s journal. She wasn’t certain that even the familiar script would be enough to soothe her jumbled thoughts tonight, but still she flipped through the pages in search of comfort. The search for her father had been put on the back burner while Loki prepared for the Games, but Teki hoped to continue it as soon as possible. Running her hands down the leather spine, she closed her eyes and imagined him walking through the door for the first time in years, imagined showing him how she had taught herself the pieces he was able to play for her, imagined him meeting Brant, meeting Loki…

Her daydream abruptly stalled when her fingers slipped into a split in the back cover. What? Teki glanced down in surprise. Had she torn the book?

No. There was a flap on the inside cover, a pocket that she had never noticed before. What the Hel? She pulled it open, peering into the grimy leather cavern. It was empty, save for a tiny piece of paper, folded into quarters and yellowed with age.

She recognized her father’s handwriting immediately, although it was a bit more polished than the hurried scrawl she usually found in his journal. It was an unfinished letter, she realized dimly, dated the week before he left, addressed to her mother.

Áslaug—

I understand your frustrations, and I realize your father has put you under considerable pressure. But I beg you to examine why this proposal is so important to you and ask yourself what you hope to gain from it. It’s become alarmingly clear to me these past few months that your highest priority lies in increasing your own social stature, and I fear that you have signed off on this marriage agreement only because of the benefits it would bring you and without a thought given to how it may effect Tekla. I know you argue that it would be good for her in the long term, and perhaps it would, but neither of us can know that with certainty. And in your greed, you would take away her right to choose her own destiny. I cannot allow that. I will not consent to my daughter being used as a bargaining chip for your family’s schemes.

Teki reread the words several times over, their meaning not fully dawning on her for a bit. I will not consent to my daughter being used as a bargaining chip for your family’s schemes. They were talking about her arranged marriage, obviously, but this couldn’t have been her father’s true thoughts. A marriage agreement could not be made official without the wholehearted approval from both sets of parents. He had to have agreed.

Although…

Her father left only a few days before the arrangement was made public. Actually, now that she thought of it, Osvald and her mother’s engagement was announced before her own. She remembered her mother’s frantic insistence that she accept her stepfather into her life as quickly as possible.

We have Lord Osvald, Tekla. He’s your father now.

If he believed Steinn would no longer be in her life, would Odin have accepted Osvald’s word as her paternal consent? Possibly. Probably.

That must have been convenient for her mother.

She remembered Völundr’s hazel eyes, how somber they had grown when Loki asked him if he had heard from Steinn.

I don’t know what happened that night, but I know there’s no way in Hel he left you of his own accord.

Teki closed the journal in a fog, tucking the creased letter within the pages. All at once, she felt as if she was going to be sick.

…

She had hoped for a chance to talk to Loki at some point during the night-long feast that followed the conclusion of the Games. The Great Hall was booming with boisterous celebration. Prince Thor had been crowned champion yet again, the perfect excuse for everyone to get wildly drunk. He certainly was making the most of it—in between overflowing mugs of mead and garbled chants with his friends, he pulled Sif across the dance floor and planted his lips firmly on hers in front of all to see. Teki pretended she didn’t notice the whispers, the scandalized glances as people turned from the Crown Prince to his would-be bride. She waited patiently in her seat for Loki to ask her to dance, fiddling with the sash of her crimson dress.

He danced with other girls first. That bothered her more than it should have. Teki knew of course that she had no claim on the younger prince’s company, but that didn’t quiet the feral growl gurgling in her chest every time she watched him bow to another. Mine. He’s mine.

It didn’t help that for the first several dances Loki didn’t even as much as look in her direction. At first, Teki bristled. Why was he avoiding her? Was he angry? Did he… did he regret what he said to her after his duel?

But as the night went on, Teki began to worry that there was something else going on. His frame was stiffer than usual. His quiet conversation somehow carried over the clamor of the Great Hall. The boy who usually preferred to remain hidden in the shadows seemed to be making a point of emphasizing his presence. She was relieved when he finally made his way over to her seat.

He bowed. “Lady Tekla.” Teki barely masked a frown. Tekla? Yes, something certainly was off.

Still, she stood and curtseyed as if she thought nothing of it. “My prince.”

“Would you honor me with the next dance?” Loki’s voice was loud, and oddly stilted. Again, Teki felt as if he was putting on a performance. She nodded, allowing him to lead her to floor.

“Is something wrong?” she whispered as they navigated through the throng of merrymakers.

Loki shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “My father,” he hissed under his breath. “He’s had his eye on me all night.”

She glanced back towards the podium without moving her head. Odin sat back in his throne, his disapproving glare fixed solidly upon the two of them. Teki gulped.

“Are you in trouble because of me?” she asked. She thought of the tent, how she had fled first chance she got and left Loki to defend himself alone. Guilt festered in her heart.

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he said quickly, pulling her farther back across the dance floor. “He’s just… concerned. That I’m getting in the way.” He grimaced, scanning the crowd surrounding them. “You need to dance with Thor tonight.” The words came out stiffly, as if merely voicing them aloud pained him.

“I can’t!” she hissed. Thor was in the corner, surrounded by a group of people Teki didn’t recognize, chugging a goblet of something as they chanted excitedly. “He never asks me.”

Loki followed her gaze, sighing. “He’s a fool. I’ll make sure he asks you.”

The song was nearing an end. She still hadn’t told him about the letter. Teki pulled his arm.

“Loki, I found something else in the journal,” she whispered. “About my father.”

The prince’s eyes widened. “Really?” But the dance was coming to a finish. Loki led her back towards the platform, the two of them wilting under Odin’s stare. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he murmured as he bowed, giving her hand a slight squeeze.

Teki nodded. “Goodnight.” She sighed as her prince disappeared back into the crowd and returned to her seat, resigning herself to a night of waiting for Thor to remember her.

#loki x ofc #loki marvel #loki fanfic #dances and daggers #dances and daggers chapter 12 #the letter #cozy writes

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lin-nin · 3 years

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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 11

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 11: All’s Fair In Love And War

< | Previous Chapter

You excitedly trailed after Techno as he led you towards the courtyard, grin splitting your face. He looked back at you and chuckled, head shaking. You probably seemed like a whole different person, but you were full of a childlike giddiness you didn’t normally carry. The worn out area was a little disturbed from Wilbur and Tommy earlier, but you didn’t pay it much mind. You were just excited to have the chance to learn to fight.

“How much combat knowledge do you have, exactly?” Techno asked as he came to stand on the flattened grass. He unbuckled the belt holding his sword, tossing it towards the side. Out of the way, since there was no way it would be used now of all times.

“Absolutely none, I have my instincts,” You mumbled sheepishly, offering a grin as you came to stand across from him.

“Alright, put your dagger with my sword. We’re gonna focus on hand-to-hand first.” He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, watching you take the dagger away from your waist. You sat it atop his sword, fidgeting nervously. You were vastly inexperienced, especially when compared to Techno and you knew that. This was going to be a mess.

“Where do we start?” You looked to him for guidance, feeling lost as you stood across from him. He watched you for a few moments, before motioning you towards him.

“Come at me.” His voice was flat, and he didn’t even seem to be taking it seriously. Then again, you weren’t much of a threat. Taking it too seriously might end up hurting.

“What?” You stammered, tilting your head. You eyed him up, trying to find something to go on. It wasn’t exactly easy.

“Try and hit me. I’ll correct you as we go.” Just like that? Just hit him? You chewed your lip, eyebrow furrowing as you tried to figure out what the best approach would be. You didn’t know how to do this. This was going to be so embarrassing. You pushed the stress aside. You wouldn’t learn if you didn’t try. Your gaze focused on his side, and you darted forward. You raised a hand to hit his side, only for him to entirely sidestep you and smack your hand away.

“Don’t be so obvious,” He stated, an eyebrow raising. You gave a frustrated huff, turning on your heel to swing on him again. He dodged once more backing away from you. He didn’t smack your hand away this time, prompting you to keep pushing forward. You swung on him a few more times, finally prompting him to widen his stance. He began countering the swings easily, eyes flicking over you rapidly.

“Better. Fast is good,” he began. He caught one of your hands, simultaneously kicking your feet out from under you. The wind was knocked out of you as your back collided with the ground, a groan shortly following. That was definitely going to hurt in a few hours time. “Speed is nothing without a proper stance and posture.”

He leaned down over you, offering a hand and pulling you up to your feet. You grunted with the effort, stumbling ever so slightly. “You never said we could use our feet,” You grumbled, shaking your head.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he mused, putting his foot between your own. “Come on, fix your stance.” He positioned your feet as needed, before coming around you. “Center your weight, and stay grounded. Don’t put all of your weight to your feet, though. It’ll only slow you down and make you an easy target.” As he spoke he positioned your shoulders slightly, making sure everything was proper in your stance.

“You’re smaller than most people you’d spar with here, so use your size to your advantage.” He rounded back to the front of you, staring at you for a few moments. He gave an approving hum, and no sooner than that were you launching yourself at him. You took the words to heart, trying to keep yourself light on your feet. Fighting was much harder than you had originally anticipated.

You did manage to land a few actual hits on him, though it was nothing compared to the number of times he countered you. It was only a matter of time before he was grounding you again, making you groan once again. That was going to do more than hurt in the morning. You were going to be so sore, but you had a feeling you would need to get used to it. Techno didn’t strike you as the type to have a day off when teaching something like this.

“Don’t fall into a routine, it makes you predictable and easy to down. You need to be spontaneous,” He was lecturing you again, only to lean down and offer his hand to you once more. You warily eyed the hand, reaching up to grab it. However, instead of letting him pull you up, you tugged down. You used your leg to kick at his feet, grinning successfully as it knocked him off balance. He lurched forward, falling onto you and only managing to barely catch himself on his forearm.

“Spontaneous enough for you?” You taunted, giving him a shit eating grin. He blinked down at you, as if processing what had just happened. At the same time, it really seemed to click what you had just done as well. Heat rushed to your face, your stomach flipping slightly. His ponytail was swung over his shoulder, hanging beside your face. The necklaces he wore brushed against your chest, the chains on his glasses mere centimeters from your face. You were close. Too close. He furrowed his brows, eyes darting nervously to the side. The faintest shade of pink dusted the apples of his cheeks as he moved, pushing himself off the ground and away from you.

“Perhaps a bit too spontaneous,” He murmured, hesitantly offering his hand again. You took it, letting him pull you up to your feet again.

“All’s fair in love and war?” You managed, offering him a feeble smile. He huffed out laughter, shaking his head and taking up his stance again.

“So it seems. Come on, we’re not finished.” You were quick to fall back into the pattern of striking at him, taking care to not get too into a routine. You tried to not think too hard, attempting to rely on instinct. You did note he was more wary in his movements, seeming to hit harder and not give you a chance to wind up in a compromising position again. You didn’t mind, though. It was almost embarrassing to think about, you weren’t too sure you could handle another moment like that.

----

Dream Focal Point

The commons of the capital weren’t entirely unknown to Dream. He had spent quite a fair amount of time here, even if he stood out. He was set out for one place, a house down a beaten path, away from the rest. He didn’t bother knocking on the worn door, simply pushing it open. It creaked to signal his arrival, thumping shut behind him. The house was small, dimly lit. A rickety table was off to the side, and behind it was a figure running a stone over a sword. The figure glanced up at Dream’s arrival, raising a single black eyebrow.

“I have a job for you,” He stated, pulling out a bag. He tossed it onto the table, where it landed heavily. A gloved hand shot out, pulling on the strings to look inside. The figure whistled, looking back towards Dream.

“You’ve never paid this much before, Dream. Let alone up front. What sort of suicide job do you have me on?” They leaned back in the seat, light from the dusty window illuminating his face. Stubble lined his jaw, a white strip of cloth seared at the ends was tied around his forehead, black bangs spilling over it. Brown eyes were full of curiosity, no doubt intrigued by the amount of money being presented to him.

“I want you to come with me to the wedding, as a guard,” Dream started slowly, gauging the reaction.

“The wedding? George’s little sister’s wedding? The love of your life’s wedding?” He clarified, making Dream grimace. The dagger hit the table, the man clearly growing more interested.

“Yes, Sapnap. That exact wedding.” Dream increasingly grew frustrated, far from fond of the words. He hated when things were put so bluntly, but his friend never cared to dance around that fact.

“As a guard? Are you worried they’re going to hurt you?”

“No, it’s just a disguise. I need you to get her back to me, no matter the cost. She said she’d come back if anything happened.”

“Even if it means hurting her or putting her in danger?”

“I would prefer she didn’t get hurt, but if she has to be, she has to be. I need her back.”

“You claim to love her but you’d just let me hurt her to get her back. You’re fucking crazy, man,” Sapnap laughed humorlessly, head shaking.

“All’s fair in love and war, Sapnap. Are you in or not?” Dream placed his hands on the table, fully prepared to take the gold back. He could do this on his own, but it would be so much easier if he had help from someone who was unrecognizable.

Sapnap thumbed through the coins in the back, sighing and shaking his head. “I’m in, but you’re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that? This better be fucking worth it.” He snatched the bag closer to him, and Dream only grinned.

“If you’re successful, I’ll pay you more,” Dream promised, green eye sparkling with an almost sadistic joy. “Just make sure your parents don’t find out.” With the words, he turned on his heel. He walked out of the house, a smug grin on his face. Finally, maybe he could get what he wanted.

Next Chapter | >

#dream team #dream smp #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #reader insert #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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curiousconch · 3 years

Text

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 2)

Part 2: Before I dive right into you

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of their pretend wedding in Las Vegas, Gabe begins to unravel his growing feelings for Alex. But as he attempts to bring his past to light, someone from Alex's previous life casts a shadow on the future.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 2.4k+ (sorry 🙈)

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, some swears

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

A little after 1 AM, Las Vegas

Gabe can't help but smirk at the look of mischief in Alex's eyes as they stood by a quiet spot in the middle of Las Vegas. With her in that glittery dress, he somehow can't bring himself to part from her yet.

He knew it wasn't only him who felt that tingling in his fingertips when he brushed her cheeks, her breath smelling strongly of martini. He was very aware that Alex felt the same when she stared back at him, standing at that cramped cheap chapel while an Elvis impersonator stood nearby. The moment she stepped away when he said that it's just all pretend made Gabe's heart ache with regret.

So here they were, standing awkwardly after he shot down her advances again.

But he was sure he didn't want the night to end here.

After calling for a car, he shoved his phone inside the pocket of his slacks and turned to Alex.

"I was serious when I said I wanted a celebratory drink," he glanced apologetically to his side where she stood. "Our hotel bar offers my favorite scotch."

Alex raised her head, smiling. "Knew you had it in you, Gabe."

A car ride and a couple of glasses of Lagavulin later, there they were, lounging on stools at their opulent hotel bar, warm lights and jazz music providing a backdrop on the casual atmosphere.

"And I could not believe the rat thing worked! Who would've known they kept a rat in there as a pet? Like really?" Alex raised her glass to her lips, as Gabe sat on the barstool beside her, cradling his own drink.

"Beginner's luck, I would believe," he chuckled in reply, leaning forward, tie loosened and his coat hanging at the back of his chair.

"I am so offended," Alex gasped as she shoved her hands flat on her chest in mock disbelief. "I'm not only the boring nerd when I was in high school, Gabe. I was that nerd who sang and dance at the drama club!"

Gabe shook his head, his lips pursing. "That makes so much damn sense, Alex." He took another swig of his third shot, fighting for dear life from laughing his heart out. Not wanting to give her that satisfaction, he threw a sarcastic dig at her remark. "That's so believable, seeing you could snatch an Oscar from Meryl Streep herself and the no one wouldn't even bat an eye."

"Ah, law was plan A, sir." she saluted, placing her empty glass on the bar counter. "Acting was a fallback in case it didn't pan out." she giggled.

Gabe grinned as he rolled up his sleeves, beckoning the bartender for another round. "You should have made it your plan A, seeing how you turned out," he teased, bringing up the fun bit they did to retrieve a copy of Lydia Rothswell's marriage certificate. The very same act that almost made Gabe kiss Alex in the middle of The Strip.

"Aww, Gabe, finally found a better lawyer than you? Feeling threatened yet?" Alex leaned in, snickering as their glasses were refilled. "Don't worry, I' ll settle for being a Junior Partner for now," she said as she reclined, before throwing in a playful wink.

"Well someone's head just became bigger," he gave her a smug look.

"Just trying to keep up with all the cockiness in the room," she smiled coyly, watching Gabe's stupefied expression. It was clear then that she scored a slam dunk at the championship of comebacks, laughing at his astonishment.

Gabe finally gave up, joining Alex in her laughter. As their joy receded, he let himself take in the sight of Alex without any inhibitions. What he was beginning to see was the extent of her wit, her ability to keep her cool, and the sharp humor that matched only his.

Under the warm light of the lounge, she brilliantly shone. He couldn't focus at what she was now saying as he danced at the appeal of them becoming more than colleagues. Perhaps he resisted his own feelings long enough that he was past the point of denial. Or simply because he was starting to get drunk.

Though before he can even begin to consider that, he was still sober enough to know that he first needed to tell her the truth.

The truth that sometime long ago, their paths have already crossed. And that he did something very horrible.

Call him cynical, but he wasn't kidding when he admitted he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And that meant laying down all his cards on the table. Because for him, Alex was more than the occasional one-night stand. And he can't be certain of how long he could keep himself from his budding feelings, all stakes be damned.

What better time to be honest when there was enough alcohol in his system to prevent all rational thinking? It's now or never, he figured.

"Alex, I -"

"Alessandra? Alessandra Keating?" a deep voice came from behind him, interrupting Gabe. He cocked his head to get a clearer view, as a man with slicked back blonde hair approached from a private booth nearby.

Without hesitation, the tall stranger in the dark suit stepped forward, his striking features Gabe would have easily recognized anywhere. That face was almost in every blockbuster movie in the last five years.

"Julian? What are you doing here?" Alex asked, as abashed as he was. Gabe saw how she clammed up the very second she recognized the man.

"Oh my, it really is you!" the man stopped beside Alex's bar stool, welcoming himself to their company. The way he was looking up and down at her made Gabe's jaw clench so hard, his teeth gritted. But the man's next movement stunned him all the more. In front of him, the man embraced Alex, making Gabe suddenly want to combust. His tumbler could've shattered if he tightened his grip on it a little more.

"Uhm, Julian, hi," Gabe surveyed Alex as she writhed within the man's arms, waiting for any signal from her so he could do something, anything, to make this man go away. But she assured him with one look, shifting a little, making the man who wedged himself between them release her.

"It's been so long! When was the last time I saw you, like, 12, 13 years ago?" the man exclaimed, his annoying smile making Gabe want to slam his fist somewhere. And it wasn't on the bar counter.

Gabe heard Alex scoff, fighting hard to regain her composure. "Yeah, high school," Her icy demeanor took over, one that Gabe only saw in the courtroom. She brushed her dress as she tilted her head to Gabe's direction.

The man turned to Gabe, the surprise evident as he acknowledged Gabe's presence behind him. The two men sized each other up sending an undercurrent of tension between them. Before Gabe could even consider acting out of impulse, Alex cleared her throat to diffuse his temper.

"Julian, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is Julian, my -"

"Ex," Julian interjected, before turning his attention to the lawyer. Apparently, this guy had a habit, Gabe observed. "We were together senior year. Alessandra, my angel, we had the best time together, didn't we? We looked good together, at least after Alex thought to improve her image here. Sadly, we had to break up. Teenage romances, you know?"

The picture couldn't be any clearer; this was the person Alex was speaking about during their dinner back in New York. And hearing the way he talked, no wonder Julian got under her skin. He was a damned manipulative pretentious liar. Gabe could hear the dishonesty between the words, not an ounce of authenticity in sight while the blonde hotshot rambled on.

Alex wasn't showing any sympathy either, her brown eyes staring daggers at him, as he went on about his monologue, emphasizing on how she was his back then. She was clearly infuriated by his attempt to own her, as well as his lack of shame. As Gabe quietly considered her reaction, he deliberated on a strategy to put her out her misery. The moment an idea came to mind, he gave Alex a subtle look asking her to back his play.

Alex nodded, sitting a little straighter. Finding the instant shift in her, Gabe made his move.

"Sweetheart," he slowly raised his voice as he said the endearment, enjoying the contempt from the other guy when he was interrupted. "You never told me Julian Wintour was your ex."

Alex smiled smugly, appearing pleased with the nickname Gabe chose, a clear pun on the whole high school sweetheart trope. "Never crossed my mind, babe. It's such an unimportant detail in my past," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Ah, nonsense," he finished his drink and gestured for the bartender to clean up. "Mr. Wintour's history would have made a good conversation starter." Gabe straightened his vest and stood, collecting his coat. He sauntered towards Alex, circling around the now speechless Julian. He draped his jacket over her shoulders, clearly making a statement before he reached for her hand, wrapping it in his.

"Why? Isn't the shiny nameplate of Senior Partner not good enough?" Alex expertly rode along, locking eyes with her former flame before gazing back at Gabe enticingly. "Forgive him, Julian. My lovely boyfriend here has a bad hobby of underselling himself," she smiled warmly, the irony of her statement eluding her ex. Gabe was about to smirk with her ingenuity, stopping when he felt her arm slowly wrapping around his waist. He barely stifled a groan at the intimacy of her touch.

The other man went beet red at the gesture. For embarrassment or infuriation or both, Gabe didn't fucking care. All he cared about was for Alex to slap this douche's face, metaphorically speaking.

"Anyway, Julian, it's been a pleasure. It's been a long night, and we're about ready to retire at our penthouse suite," steadily, she got up from her seat. The command in her was undeniable, forcing anyone to feel nothing but regret the day they decided Alessandra Keating wasn't good enough for them. Then with a flourish, she turned around as she let Gabe take her away from her past lover's scrutinizing gaze.

Inside the elevator, Gabe caught Alex's exhale of relief, probably thankful that Julian was out of her sight. Gabe still held onto her hand, though Alex didn't seem to notice. As they began their ascent, he waited for her to break the silence, deciding that the questions running in his mind can wait.

"I would have traded my rankings for the look of disbelief in Julian's face," Alex said turning to him, to which Gabe arched his brow.

He smirked devilishly, knowing Alex could take the hint. "I believe I could offer a sight better than that."

She grinned at the innuendo, further lightening up the mood between them. "One day, Gabe, I'll take you up on that," she said, crossing her legs as she leaned on the polished wall behind her. "Though I'm sure you're dying to know... How did I end up dating the Julian Wintour?"

Gabe pondered before answering. "Hmm, actually not the first one that comes to mind, no." He tapped against his temple. "I doubted you would ever bat an eyelash to his direction."

Her eyebrows rose. "Ah, you think so highly of me." She chuckled, shaking her head at his reply. "But yes, he was my ex. And yes, he was the red on my ledger. He was my first love," she admitted. "That ideal, once in a lifetime, true love everyone's talking about? Julian was it, or at least I thought he was." she sighed, glancing at her reflection on the polished metal panel beside her. "But when things started to go downhill for me, he was the first one to walk out," she paused, taking a deep breath. "By cheating on me."

Gabe's body went rigid, clenching his fists so hard until his nails dug unto his palms. What the fucking hell? I know I should have punched that guy's perfect teeth! He decided against airing his vengeful thoughts, staying quiet as he glimpsed at her image on the walls.

"Joey reminded me how Julian made me doubt myself. If I'm really over what he's done to me, if he's still in my head," she continued, rubbing at her nape. Gabe felt her gaze fall on him, which he reciprocated. "But after walking out from him tonight, I am much more certain that I made it out, after all."

Gabe felt her squeeze his hand as she said those words, and his heart somersaulted inside his chest. "So thanks. I needed that little nudge," she said in finality.

He turned to beam at her as he relished the triumph in her words, hoping that it was enough to convey that he was proud of her. And to be part of that discovery about herself, about who she always was in his eyes - someone who was his equal.

When they arrived at her floor, she gently freed her hand from his grasp invoking a sharp exhale from him. She stepped out of the elevator, her gait as undeterred as ever. But then she turned, her soft expression dimmed by the lack of light. "And while we're on the subject of appreciation," she uttered, before dropping one last revelation.

"Thanks for that save you also gave me ten years ago," Alex glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, her words laced with meaning.

It took him a few moments before he could even comprehend what she was trying to convey. He searched her eyes for some explanation but found none. "What do you mean, Alex?" he said, managing to find his voice.

"I know exactly who you are, Gabriel Ricci."

With that, the doors slowly closed in front of him, her sly smile fading from his sight until he can only see his own reflection. He examined her last sentence, repeating the words over and over in his head. There was only one plausible explanation: she only knew half of the truth. His body sagged against the wall as he shut his eyes, angry at himself.

No Alex, I think you really don't.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your continued reading! As some of you may have already noticed, this part was written purely in Gabe's POV because I wanted to expose his conflicted feelings for Alex. It's probably my own version of revenge, with PB stretching that slow burn as much as they could 🤭 Share your thoughts in the comments, I'd really appreciate it! 💖

Taglist: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer

@choicesficwriterscreations

It's my first time tagging a couple of folks, so please inform me if I missed including you. Also, want to be added or removed from the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊.

#choices laws of attraction #laws of attraction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #laws of attraction fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #gabe ricci x mc #gabe ricci

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

Text

it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing - chapter 8

Warnings: Depression, meltdown, disordered eating, self harm

Summary: Weeks go by and he feels himself deteriorate, feels the thread he’s hanging onto begin to split and fray, and he starts to wonder how this is going to end for him. At what point enough will be enough.

or,

The one where Spencer goes to the psych ward.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.3k

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 - The Enemy Within Chapter 2 - Errand of Mercy Chapter 3 - Dagger of the Mind Chapter 4 - Where No Man Has Gone Before Chapter 5 - The Galileo Seven Chapter 6 - This Side of Paradise Chapter 7 - The Man Trap Chapter 8 - And the Children Shall Lead Chapter 9 - Mirror, Mirror Chapter 10 - A Private Little War Chapter 11 - Wink of an Eye Chapter 12 - That Which Survives Chapter 13 - The Empath Chapter 14 - Let That Be Your Last Battlefield

Spencer has just finished breakfast when a tech comes to let him know he has a phone call. He takes the phone to the end of the hall and answers - it’s Hotch, calling to let him know the team has a case.

“I think it’s going to be a pretty quick one,” Hotch tells him. “We’re not going far, and there are already some good leads. But it messes up Garcia’s visiting schedule a little bit, and I wanted to run something by you.”

“Okay,” says Spencer, already preparing himself to hide the disappointment of knowing no one will be coming to see him that evening. Sometimes seeing his friends feels like the only thing that keeps him going.

“How would you feel about Jess bringing Jack by for a visit tonight?”

“Wait, really?” Spencer breathes. “I mean, that’s-- you’d-- Jess would be willing to do that?”

“Yes,” Hotch says. “I already asked her. And Jack has been asking about you ever since he got home the other day and you were gone.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth. That you’re not feeling well, and you have to stay in the hospital for a little while to get better. I think it would put his mind at ease to see you and know that you’re okay.”

“I’d love to see him,” Spencer says. “I really, um....” He wonders when he started being so emotional all the time. “Thank you, Hotch. You’re an amazing dad.”

“I’m not sure where that came from, but I’ll take it,” Hotch laughs.

“Growing up in my family, we lived with mental illness every single day,” Spencer tells him. “And even then, it was this horrible taboo subject that everyone danced around. When my mom was in the hospital, my dad would tell anyone who asked that she was ‘out of town’ or ‘on vacation’. No one was allowed to know that she was sick, until my dad left and I went to college and I had no choice but to ask my neighbors to check in on her.

“Her schizophrenia was treated as a source of shame, not just for her but for the whole family. And no one should have to live like that, not ever, and no kid should be raised to look at someone in their family that way. And I know I’m not, like, a part of your family or anything, but I do care about Jack very much, and the fact that you aren’t raising him with that stigma is just… really important, I think.”

He’s a weepy mess by the time he finishes speaking, but thankfully Hotch doesn’t comment on it.

“I trust you to be as honest as you want with Jack,” he says. “He’s smart for a six year old, and you’re good with kids. I have to go, but Spencer -- take care, okay? I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Go catch some bad guys,” Spencer says, and tries not to be jealous.

He meets with the doctor a little later and agrees to try an antidepressant medication, one he’s thoroughly researched and feels optimistic about its potential. It seems like such a small thing, one pill a day to start, but it feels huge, gigantic, overwhelming. The nurse brings his pill in a little plastic cup exactly like the ones they use for his mother at Bennington. He knows medication is hit or miss for his mom, but when it works, it works. He hopes this works for him, too.

Spencer spends most of his time before lunch rocking back and forth on his bed, running his hands up and down his arms, wishing his hoodie still had it’s strings so he could chew on them, a weird habit he has despite what his friends lovingly calls his ‘germ thing.’

At lunch he eats half of his sandwich and pours his meal replacement shake into a cup with ice and a straw, making it easier to stomach, and vows to finish whatever his dinner is tonight since he likely won’t be getting coffee.

He introduces himself to the people he sits with as he eats - Susan, Melody, and Dale. Susan is quiet, and she seems sad like him. Melody is clearly in a manic episode and doesn’t stop talking, but she’s sweet and funny, and if anyone can be understanding about a person’s need to ramble, it’s Spencer Reid. Dale doesn’t say much, but he reminds Spencer so much of his mother it’s almost eerie, the way he talks about certain things and glances around the room. Spencer finds it oddly comforting.

After lunch he meets with Wendy, the occupational therapist. She’s got enough energy for both of them, and she’s friendly and enthusiastic and ready to help. The first thing she does is get Spencer a weighted blanket, which he can keep on his bed or take with him to therapy, although once she sees Maurice the Stingray, she agrees he’s probably more portable than the blanket.

The next thing she does is set him up with some therapy putty, something Spencer has been missing terribly, and a small box with a smooth-cornered rubik’s cube, a puzzle ball, and a few other stim toys. There’s a larger box in the activity room, but Wendy lets him keep these in his room since they’ve been recently sanitized and he won’t have to worry about anyone else touching them.

The last thing she does with him is some yoga. She explains that it’s good for his proprioception, his body’s position in space, which is something he struggles with. She goes through some basic poses with him and shows him how he can do them on his own when she’s not there. She also tells him she does a yoga class on the unit once a week, so if he’s still around on Friday, she’d love for him to take part.

Overall, it’s an incredibly productive day, which is why the meltdown after dinner seems to come out of nowhere.

It’s not really out of nowhere, though - nothing ever is. It’s the feeling of dinner in his stomach, the belief that he’s taking up too much space, the knowledge that his team is out doing what they do best, and he’s failing them because he can’t help. It’s the smell of the soap in the bathroom and the frustration of only being able to write with a four inch pencil, the lack of his books, his routine, his friends. It’s the staff who rotate every day, each tech and nurse following slightly different rules than the last one and expecting him to read their minds. It’s the way today’s nurse shakes her head after weighing him, but she won’t even tell him the number on the scale.

It’s nothing, but it’s everything, and Spencer finds himself on the floor of his room slamming his head against the semi-soft plastic of his bed frame, pulling on handfuls of hair and whimpering, eventually collapsing on the floor as a nurse comes in to help him calm down. She brings him an anxiety pill and talks to him in a soothing voice until he starts to relax. She helps him up to his bed and wraps him in the heavy blanket, and he starts to recite poetry in his head, and that’s what he’s doing when a tech comes in to tell him he has visitors.

---

“Hey, Jack, what do you think about going to visit Spencer tonight?”

“In the hospital?” Jack asks, putting down his toy truck and looking up at Jessica.

“Yup,” she says. “Since Daddy and the team are on a case and can’t go visit, he thought it might be nice for Spencer if we came to see him.”

“Do you think he’d wanna play trucks with me?” he asks excitedly. “Or read something?”

“You know what, I’m not sure if you can bring your trucks, but I’m sure he’d love to read with you. Do you want to pick out a book or two to bring?”

“Yeah!” Jack scurries to his bedroom and picks out two of his favorites, then lets Jess help him into his booster seat in the car. On the way, they stop at a drive-thru so they can pick up coffee for Spencer - Aaron made her promise - and she gets a hot chocolate for Jack, too.

When they get to the hospital, they check in, Jack with his two books and Jess with her two drinks, and they’re led to a small room with a few chairs and a little table in the middle. Jess puts down the cups and Jack sets down the books, then hops up on Jess’s lap.

“Where’s Spencer?” he asks. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“I’m sure he’ll be here any second,” Jess assures him. Sure enough, a moment later the door opens and Spencer enters, dressed in pajamas and a sweatshirt, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Spencer!” Jack shrieks, and leaps at him before he can sit down. Spencer smiles and picks Jack up.

“Wow, you’re even bigger than the last time I saw you!” he exclaims.

Jack giggles. “That was a couple days ago!”

“You must be growing fast, then,” Spencer says. “Probably eating your vegetables and everything, huh?”

“Yeah!” Jack says, and Jess narrows her eyes, but smiles.

Spencer sits down, but Jack stays sitting in his lap, and Spencer wraps his arms around him, holding him close.

“We brought you something,” Jess says, holding out the coffee, and Spencer’s eyes light up.

“Thank you, Jessica,” he says sincerely. “And thank you for coming, and bringing Jack.”

“It’s good to see you,” she says. “Everything going okay?”

“Okay enough,” Spencer says, which Jess takes as code for, I don’t want to discuss it, but no need to worry.

“Spencer, how come you don’t hafta be in a bed?” Jack asks. “With the machines, like on TV?”

“This is a little bit of a different kind of hospital, Jack,” Spencer explains. “You know how sometimes people go to the hospital because they have a tummy ache, or a cough, or they have a broken bone, or they need surgery?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, this is a hospital for people who are having trouble with their mind, and their thoughts. And they might be acting a little differently than normal, and they just need some help to feel better, just like the people getting surgery need some help to feel better. But since my body isn’t the part with the sickness, I don’t always have to stay in bed the way some people do. Does that make sense?”

“So the sickness is in your brain?”

“Yeah, it is,” Spencer says. “And it can be confusing, because you can’t see it, right? It’s invisible! And that’s why sometimes it takes a long time to finally get medicine for it. But luckily, that’s what I’m doing now.”

“Is it, um,” Jack says, scrunching up his face as he tries to think of the word. “Can I catch it from you?”

“Nope,” Spencer promises. “It’s not contagious. You’re safe, don’t worry.”

“Is the brain sickness the reason you got all skinny and your eyes are red and sad all the time?”

“Jack!” Jess scolds. “That’s not a polite thing to say.”

“Sorry, Spencer,” Jack says.

“No, it’s all right,” Spencer says. “Yes, that is the reason. But I’m working on getting better. And Jack, you can ask me any questions you want, okay? I don’t mind.”

“What’s it called?”

Spencer tilts his head to look at Jack. “What’s what called?”

“The brain sickness that you have.”

“It’s called... depression,” Spencer says, and Jess gets the feeling that he’s leaving some things out, but that’s probably for the best. Jack is only six, after all.

“Can you read even though you have depression?”

Spencer grins. “Absolutely. Did I see you brought a couple of books with you?”

“Yeah!” Jack says, reaching for one and handing it to Spencer. “Would you read to me?”

“I would be honored,” Spencer says, and opens the book.

Two books, one cup of coffee, and one cup of hot chocolate later, it’s time for Jess and Jack to be on their way.

“Hey Jack, can you throw these cups out in the garbage over there while I talk to Spencer real quick?” Jess asks.

“Yup,” Jack says, picking up the empty cups.

“I hope I didn’t screw that up too bad,” Spencer says immediately, wincing. “I just wanted to be honest--”

“You did amazing,” Jess says. “Really, honesty is so important to us -- all of us -- and I appreciate that you were willing to be that open with Jack about what’s going on.”

“I meant what I said - if he has other questions, he can always ask. I didn’t think we needed to get into the PTSD or the eating disorder or the autism, but as he gets older, if he ever wants to know more… I’m here.”

“He’s lucky to have you, Spencer. We all are.”

“Thank you so much for coming,” Spencer says. “Seriously, I had a bit of a rough evening and this just… it made it so much better.”

“I’m glad. You just keep getting better, okay? We’re thinking of you. All of us.”

Suddenly Jack runs up and jumps into Spencer’s arms again without warning.

“Goodnight, Jack,” Spencer says. “Thanks for coming to see me. It was really nice.”

“Thanks for reading to me,” Jack says. “I hope your oppression gets better soon.”

“Depression,” Spencer corrects, holding back a laugh. “And, thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Bye-bye!” Jack waves, and Jess waves along with him.

“Bye, guys,” Spencer says, and that night, he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

#it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing #maya's fics #spencer reid #maya's spencer whump collection #cw depression #cw trauma mention #cw ed #cw meltdown

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 12- Till Death Do Us Part

Summary: The battle for Sodden Hill is not over yet, your forces are almost all dead and the Nilfgaardian army is close. Things have been better, maybe by destiny they will?

Warning: blood & gore, feels, angst, fluff

Masterlist

You scream in fury as hot white lighting sparks from your opened palms and into the bodies of countless Nilfgaardian men, they fall in agony, their bodies twitching as they quickly meet a violent and painful end. You've been in battle all day, the forces of the enemy holding much better then you'd anticipated, nonetheless you've held your ground the absolute best you can.

You will not fall.

The sun has long abandoned the land and let darkness consume her whole, the woods around Sodden Hill on the other hand have been alive with the sounds of screaming and swords clashing. In the jumble of bodies and angry soldiers had you unfortunately managed to misplace your dagger, while also getting yourself sliced by a silver blade across your collarbone and left rib cage. Resorting your self defensive weaponry to the use of your destructive dark gift. And now more then ever have you been glad to make use of it.

It feels not enough.

The opened wound adorning your collarbone is small enough that it's not much of a bother for the time being, but the slice to your rib cage burns and seeps with hot wet blood as you move through the brush. You're certain that the leaves you part away are leaving a blood trail when you skim past them as you walk through the woods.

You wander though the thick underbrush in search of Yennefer and Tissaia, you've made sure to keep yourself hidden from Nilfgaard for as long as possible as you hunt for them in the darkness, also considering you're injured and bleeding, better to not draw any attention to yourself.

A few stray droplets of shining red fall to the forest floor while you stumble across a small downed log, praying that they're still alive in the woods somewhere, they have to be, your numbers are already dwindling every minute as Nilfgaard progresses.

Your eyes scan over the near distant patch of evergreens weeping low to the ground as a sudden flicker of light catches your attention, your eyes keenly follow as a torch and many soldiers charge through the thick conifers in the opposite direction of you to your great relief. They are oblivious to your existence as they hunt relentlessly for any sign of movement in the forest. Suddenly your ears prick to the tell tale individual beats of the heiress' and Yennefer's nervous hearts, walking further, you emerge from some bushes to find Tissaia and Yennefer on a grassy hill. Tissaia's hands outstretched as she casts some type of defense spell while Yennefer clutches her arrow wound, breathing heavily in the night air.

A feeling of great relief washes over you as a tired smile breaks out upon your dirt smudged face, "You're alive! Both of you!" You cry, sounding the most eased of your problems in quite some time. Yennefer finds your eyes, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as you shuffle closer to the two of them, your ribs hurting with each step.

Tissaia slowly turns, her face is an absolute mess, her clothes dirty and her hair a disordered nest upon her head. She smells of sweat and blood and fear as you catch her tired blue eyes with your crimson ones, "Y/N." She rasps, reaching a hand out to you, you take it, keeping the other pressed firmly against your opened flesh.

You take a heavy breath, "Sabrina needs your help. Yennefer told me, she probably said...why are you not...where are..." You pause for a moment to take another breath and regain your words, it even hurts to breath, they notice your discomfort as an explosion sounds from the near distance, "We all do."

She lowly smiles before her face contorts into a pained expression, a whimper escapes her lips as she clutches the side of her stomach before falling to her knees. You quickly kneel down, a look of deep worry upon your own bloody face as you gently touch her arm, "No! No! Not now Tissaia, the Northern Kingdoms are close..." You plead desperately, she stares back at you through dazed eyes as Yennefer joins your huddle upon the dewy grass, "We can't give up." Your voice a rasped whisper.

Gods my throat is dry.

More explosions sound in the far distance as you grasp her shoulder, her face is sad with defeat and fear as tears fall down her sweaty blooded cheeks, "We need you, what do we do now?" Your voice is shaky and desperate, a frustrated tear falls down your face as you feel more sticky blood oozing out from your fresh wound.

Tissaia says nothing, her eyes taking in everything you're saying but looking rather vacant at the same time, you nod in understanding before releasing her shoulder. She sits down and turns to stare off lost into the far off firelight flaring through the thick woods. Understanding her exhaustion you move away from her to seat yourself atop the grass as you grimace in pain. Gods your deep battle wound hurts like a bitch, the fucking skin not immediately healing due to the silver. This may suck but in retrospect you've done one-hundred times more damage to Nilfgaard then a simple slash to your ribs.

You can be an optimist Y/N, but you know they hit bone. It bleeds too much.

Yennefer takes your once close position next to Tissaia, she looks desperately into the blue eyed mage as she grasps onto her shoulder, "You...you saved me. I won't ever forget that." Says Yennefer, her voice breaking as tears well up in her violet eyes.

Tissaia smiles a pained one, touching Yennefer's cheek before letting her hand fall, her blue eyes playing downcast as she looks out into the exploding woods. Yennefer's head falls as her lip quivers, her lavender irises trailing over to you in a last hopeful effort to find help. She kneels down by your side, her face expectant as you stare up at her, feeling almost in a blurry daze.

Yennefer blinks, her voice but a determined whisper, "Y/N, we have to fight. I can't do this without you, I can't." You breath through heavy painful breaths as a small trickle of your own blood trails out from your mouth, her brows furrow in deep worry as she finds your bleary eyes, "Y/N?"

Your breathing is almost ragged now as you gently reach out to touch her arm, "It's your turn...to save the people, this Continent. This is your legacy."

Her face is pained, "How? I can't!"

"You can!" Your voice is stronger now, "Everything you have ever felt, everything you've buried..." Your free hand softly touches her cheek, a small smile upon your lips, "Forget the bottle, forget the djinn. Let your chaos explode." She looks deeply into your shimmering crimson eyes, not an ounce of falseness lacing your words. She furrows her brows as the two of you lean your sweat covered foreheads against one another in a comforting manner.

"Be a dragon."

She slowly pulls away, rising to her feet as she parts from you, knowing exactly what must be done if you're all to survive this night. You watch as she slowly stumbles over across the grass, standing in between two large boulders, she faces the Elven Keep that is currently aflame. She pauses for a couple long moments before turning and climbing up the giant heavy stone, a small stream of blood drips out of your nose as you keep your eyes on Yennefer the whole time.

You feel so tired.

Tissaia gently touches your shoulder as she wills you to stand, rising to your feet the both of you wait in anticipation for what she's about to do next, her vessel atop the highest rock, she looks down upon the grassy woodland valley. Mages fight close by as you ignore their hardships and the terrible sounds of Nilfgaard soldiers as they charge in your direction. You ignore them all as Yennefer makes eye contact with you, she nods before thrusting her hands down, a scream of fury erupting from deep within her lungs.

Fire emits from her opened palms like a fearsome dragon throwing her wrath across the land, the bright hot flames dance in your direction as you and Tissaia fall to the ground for cover. Though you know better, it's no use, the fire will certainly end your long life in an instant.

I'll miss you Geralt. I'm sorry.

You cover your face in dreaded anticipation as the hellfire of heat passes you and Tissaia without giving you so much as a burn. You can hear the piercing screams from the nearby soldiers as they burn in agony from Yennefer's grand display of chaos. Your glistening eyes look around you, nothing but a hot orange glow surrounding yourself and Tissaia as you suck in astonished ragged breaths.

Yennefer you amazing woman. Burn those fuckers.

The flames consume around you, hot wind brushing past your face and conveniently drying away all the sweat as you let the blaze swallow whole the forest full of soldiers. Then just like that does the fire end, the spewing wrath of Yennefer going almost as suddenly as it had come. Your eyes lock with Tissaia's as she helps you stand, your sights finding nothing but charred ground and smoky ash in the aftermath.

You take a small step forward, you can't hear her heartbeat anymore, she's gone.

Nothing.

"Yennefer." Whispers Tissaia, unsure of where the violet eyed mage has gone, she suddenly walks past you in search of the missing sorceress, "Yennefer!" She shouts again and again while looking all around the scorched field.

"Yennefer!"

A couple stray tears fall down your ashen cheeks as a quivering smile forms across your face while you fight the urge to laugh at how terribly everything has gone, dried blood cracking on your skin as you grin, "We're alone Tissaia." Your voice is hoarse, the blue eyed mage turns to you, her eyes wide.

"No. We can't b...she can't....she can't be gone." Her eyes are sad with fearful grief.

"I can't sense her near." You shake your head, "No heartbeat but yours and mine. She did the most bravest thing she could have done, there is nothing more we can do now..." Your eyes fall to the smoking grass, "I don't know....I can't sense her anymore...she's just....she's....gone..." Tears fall freely now at the loss of your friend, heavy breaths hurting your rib cage as you try to stop yourself from sobbing.

Not another friend, gone. Not her too.

The hollow and empty feeling of loss consumes your entire vessel as you stand among charred Nilfgaard soldiers and fallen mages, you take another step forward, your face downcast with sadness and anger.

Your fist clenches, pain and anguish coursing through your heart, "It shouldn't have ended this way!" You shout in a fury, your ribs falling into agony as you start to cough.

Tissaia casts her eyes away from your fuming desperation, "No, it shouldn't have."

Taking in ragged breaths you look out into the scorched forest, "I guess now I'll truly be alone forever. How terribly sad." You snicker though there is no humor in your words, "Huh, I should have never left Geralt." More tears and blood patter to the charred grass as you hold your side, "Tissaia, go back to Aretuza. Leave this mess, go before it's too late. She may have killed everyone in the woods, but more still live beyond her flames. I can't have you dead either."

"Where will you go then?" She wonders, glancing down at your sliced flesh hidden behind your fingers, her voice laced with concern, "Y/N, if you stay you'll die."

"I know." More blood patters to the ground, "I need to feed, human blood is the only thing that can heal this type of wound." You grimace in pain once more, "I can't help what I am, it's the only way I will survive this."

She nods in understanding, "Be careful Y/N. It is not safe."

You lowly chuckle despite the pain, "Thanks for the forewarning, hopefully any surviving soldiers know that. Because I don't intend to keep a single one of them alive if we cross paths."

She hands you a small smile in return, "Till we meet again."

"Goodbye Tissaia."

She watches as you trudge into the burnt and smoky forest, out of sight in an instant as you wander into the night. She stands alone atop the singed earth as you wander through the blackened trees, letting the scent of Nilfgaard soldiers lead you to your first victim, if any are still alive that is.

Hopefully soon, gods this knife wound hurts.

Your eyes adjust perfectly to your surroundings as they had in the beginning of the night, all colors now of dull greys, blues, purples, greens, and black. No one but a Witcher could see as well as you. For some time do you stumble through the charred trees and logs until finally have you made it to the other side. You walk out into a grassy opening, the air is fresh and cool as you scan the area in search of life.

You walk forward and notice the tell tale signs of Nilfgaard, they were undoubtedly here, the grass is matted and horse shit wafts into the air. They are still very close, you can almost....suddenly a stick cracks from your left alerting you to a new sound.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Two heartbeats. Hooves thudding against the dirt.

A slender faced man appears from the tree line atop his steed, his face dirty as his piercing blue eyes squint at you in curiosity. He is without a doubt from Nilfgaard, his strange black armor giving him away instantly, a crest of the golden thin star marked on his chest. Oddly enough he still looks rather attractive, in a sadistic cold hearted kind of way, Geralt would without a doubt be making fun of you if he was here to read your facial expressions.

You and the blue eyed stranger make eye contact as he leads his horse closer, once he's close enough to better see your face does he click his tongue signaling the horse to halt. If he's nervous he sure doesn't show it, most men would either cower away or immediately show aggression once they've glanced at your ruby irises.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Another heartbeat. Another man.

An armored soldier breaks from the tree line and stops, staring at the two of you, unsure of what's to happen next. The first man eyes you suspiciously as he lays a careful hand atop his sheathed sword.

"You are not human?" He wonders in a questioning statement, eyes trailing up and down your body in a cautious way rather then anything else more sinister. You stare up at him through irritated eyes, a hand still covering your wound, as your free one taps the side of your thigh.

"I am not the only monster to stand upon this land. You inbred Nilfgaardian cocksucker." He grimaces in disgust, clearly not anticipating that kind of blatantly bold answer, nonetheless he stares on still unsure if you're a true threat or not.

The other soldier takes a couple proud steps forward, instantly his ragged sword is out in an act of dominance, "You foockin' bitch, how dare ya call The Black Knight Cahir aep Ceallach by such a derogatory name." Huffs the loyal soldier as he spits in the direction of your feet, his black sword flashing in the bright moonlight.

You tilt your head to the side, a fangy smile stretching across your ashen face, "Oh, forgive me then. But as it would turn out, I don't give a fuck." You sneer with hatred, Cahir's eyes darken at your words.

Oh, you've got him now.

"Sebastian. Kill her." Commands The Black Knight with a simple nod, his loyal man smirks before raising his sword and charging at you like a wild animal.

Cahir watches in anticipated curiosity from atop his horse as his devoted soldier makes quick thunderous steps in your direction like a raging blunderous fool. You take one last even breath, enjoying the dull throbbing of your wound before you send it into agony once again.

You steady your feet, staggering them as you turn your shoulder so it faces the charging man, when your scarlet irises catch the brown of his bulging eyes do you launch yourself over his head swifter then he's able to comprehend. Flipping in the air above him you quietly land upon the soft earth once again before using all the strength you have left to throw yourself atop the man. His sword is ripped from his hands as you pin him to the ground in a fury.

His glossy brown eyes lock onto your flaming red ones, he shakes in fear before you push his neck to the side and bite down hard into his soft warm flesh. His scream pierces through your ears for a few seconds as he struggles underneath you, a moment later all goes silent as his body turns limp in your grasp. His blood is warm and absolutely delicious as it pours down your throat and seeps into your system, you can already feel your silver inflicted injuries healing as you drain the life from the soldiers body.

Once all his satiated and you feel one-hundred percent you again, do you release him, standing to your full height you turn around to face the wide blue eyes of Cahir. He quickly pulls his sword out as his horse neighs in nervousness underneath him.

"My god you're a vampire." He reveals astonished, swallowing hard as you study his fearful expression.

Blood trips down your chin and onto the grass below as an amused smirk plays at your lips, "A dhampir my good knight, sorry to disappoint." You chuckle, "Now I must be off, your friend was all I needed and now I am satisfied." He stares intently as you continue, "From here I plan to leave this fucking place and I intend to do so in peace. So I warn you, if you try and stop me I will end your pathetic life, you can try to slice me from atop your weak legged detestable meat-bag of shit. But if you dared raise that filthy sword at me, you will lose."

He blinks, thinking over your threatening proposition, just then he slowly brings the sword to his side and carefully sheaths it, his eyes never leave yours, "I will accept these terms." His hands tightly grip the leather reigns of his nervous horse. His face stoic as he clenches his jaw, he doesn't appear to appreciate being told off.

"Good." You smile politely, your face falling in an instant, "Now fuck off."

His face is stone as he clicks his tongue once more before kicking the sides of his steed, you watch as he hastily gallops on past you from a safe distance and out of sight into the thick brush.

This is a Knight of Nilfgaard, interesting.

——

After cleaning yourself up with crystal clear water from a nearby stream did you begin your search for a trail, anything that could take you to some kind of civilization or a fucking tavern for that matter. You wandered in bored frustration for almost the entirety of the day, your vampiric stamina keeping you awake and on guard as you trudge your way through the woods.

Your stomach growls, you haven't had a proper meal since Aretuza, and right now you're honestly desperate enough to take a bite out of anything. Though with the gracious scent of a deer wafting into your nostrils, your more primal instinct kicks in, your eyes narrow as you stalk your way through the bushes. The scrawny bastard stands near a tiny stream, you take another step and crack, a damn stick, the deer finds you standing in the greenery and books it away in the opposite direction.

Letting out an annoyed "fuck" you make good use of your legs by racing after the doe, your chase is short lived when she runs out of the wood line and closely past a horse and it's rider, though you're moving so fast that you don't have time to register what's in front of you until its too late. With a thud do you smack right into the front of the powerful mare, she neighs loudly in alarm while you stumble clumsily into the dirt.

Letting out a breathy huff, you inhale sharply, your sights fuzzy and spotted as you blink hard, trying to collect your bearings once again. Holding yourself up by your elbows you try and shake off the whiplash you've just received when the rider suddenly speaks in confused astonishment, "Y/N?"

Raising your head to the gruff voice your crimson eyes go wide in shock, your heart practically catching in your throat as you stare, "Uh, Geralt?"

His big beautiful golden irises trail across your disheveled state as you continue to stare, mouth a-gap, before he quickly jumps off of Roach and takes swift steps to your side, looking rather concerned. He reaches a hand down for you to take, that you willingly accept without a second thought he pulls you to your feet, quickly letting go of your hand, his brows furrowing as he tries to find his words.

"Y/N. How are you here...I though that you were....well, uh....where did you come from?" He questions, just about tripping over his words he's so confused but also incredibly relieved to see you nonetheless. It's been weeks.

"I...was hungry." Immediately slips out, nice one you idiot. His brows furrow once again, unsure what to do with that information and honestly taken so far aback by your random intrusion in the middle of nowhere.

He finally sighs, his eyes finding yours, "It's been almost four weeks."

You swallow, "Oh.....Has it now? Didn't notice." Your voice is smaller then you'd intended, but he can see right through your nonchalant answer. He knows you.

Clearing his throat he look to the ground then at a bush to your left, awkwardly avoiding your gaze as he thinks of what to say next, "Uh...I went to Cintra, and well, um....I didn't get the child surprise...the kingdom, it's gone to..."

"Shit." You nod, "Yeah, I know. I uh....went with Yennefer to Aretuza and uh.....happened to learn about Nilfgaards reign of terror from Triss." He looks at you with a puzzled raise of his grey brow, you give him the tiniest of smiles, "Long story." You shrug, "Even longer one if you really wanna know how I got here." You add with a familiar tinge of humor lacing your words that he's always loved.

His smile is small, but you catch it all the same as he finds your eyes once again, "Guess we both have a lot to catch up on. Although you might laugh when I tell you this," You raise an interested brow as he continues, "Calanthe wasn't very fond of my arrival in the slightest, so she had me set behind bars....and well," His eyes falling downcast, "I couldn't do anything to stop Cintra's destruction...."

"Sounds about right." You remark with a humored snort as you attempt to lighten up the mood once again, he lightly chuckles while you let a couple more friendly laughs slip out before falling into an awkward silence.

He looks to the ground as you shift your eyes to the trees before whispering, "Okay fuck I can't do this." He immediately snaps his attention over to you looking a tad bit afraid, shaking your head you shrug, "I'm skipping the heartfelt shit because Geralt, I wanted to shatter your kneecaps on that mountain...but, stay with me here...leaving you alone for a couple shitty weeks seems like enough of a fuck you." A small grin tugs at the corners of his lips as you break out into a smirk before your face falls once more, "But I am...Geralt I'm sorry for just leaving you there and I just...."

You let out a breath, yours eyes darting around his face as you try and figure out what he's feeling, he takes a cautious step forward, "You had every right to hate me, and even now. I can live with that and I can live without you by my side if that is what you choose." He says, not a shadow of falseness in his gravely voice.

You shake your head, blinking tears away that you didn't even realize started to form, "I could never hate you. Not now, not ever." A small grin tugs at the corners of his lips at your heartfelt words while you grace him with an affectionate smile, "I love you too much, you fucking idiot."

He takes another step closer, "I don't deserve you." Is all he's able to say as he gently opens his palm for you to take.

Slowly reaching out, you take his calloused hand, placing it upon the side of your cheek as you blissfully lean into his familiar touch with a warm smile adorning your features, "You definitely don't deserve me." He wraps his other arm around you, a genuine laugh reverberating from his strong chest as he presses himself against you.

Your foreheads pressed comfortably against one another now, "I've missed you so much." He whispers gently into the breeze.

You move your arms to hug him even closer, "I've missed you more then the moon and all the stars combined," You kiss the tip of his nose, "Though I won't hesitate to break both your legs and leave you a crippled man if you ever do that shit again." He chuckles at your passive aggressive yet loving threat, before pulling away to stare adoringly into your eyes.

His big golden irises shine like shimmering coins as he studies every inch of your face, his own one hides nothing as he shows pure love and admiration for you through his beaming grin, "I love you Y/N. Please never doubt that." He speaks softly as he presses his head flush with yours for the second time.

You chuckle, "Then never doubt this." He doesn't have time to reply as you hastily pull him in for a heated embrace, his lips are gentle and warm as you taste him. He's the same as you'd remembered. Full of fiery passion and feather light care all at the same time as his lips move with yours, hands trailing your sides as you feel him up just the same. Making sure to fully memorize each and every curve of one another that you'd both desperately missed from your time apart.

You slowly pull away, he follows your lips for a second before turning his head to find your scarlet irises, "As much as I'm wholeheartedly enjoying this, and much anticipating how you're going to make everything up to me later. I think we should get-a-riding before I decide to eat Roach."

He shakes his snowy mane, chuckling at your innate ability to always make him laugh, "You wouldn't dare." He jests, mock serious.

Gently squeezing his muscular bicep you eye him real close, your noses just about touching, "I would. And I bet she tastes, delicious." You add with a dramatic shift in your voice for humored emphasis of course. You'd never really eat Roach, well unless you happened to be desperate.

He suddenly hugs you even closer, his lips brushing against yours, sending shivers down your spine, "I know what could satisfy your hunger, my love." He whispers darkly, shifting the mood to your surprised enjoyment.

You lightly kiss his bottom lip, "Oh please, you may be a Witcher but there's no way you could handle me when I'm starved."

You can feel the electricity in the air, his scent and aurora shifting to that of lust, "I wouldn't mind your beautiful face as the last thing I see before I fall into darkness, never to wake again." Muses your Witcher with a small grin, "Sounds rather pleasant."

He bites his lip as you study his alluringly handsome face, "Too bad." You smirk as he watches your lips, "I'd miss your annoyingly attractive face and that ever enticing body of yours way too much to discard you like a forgetful rotten apple tossed to the side of the road."

In reply Geralt presses his plush inviting lips to yours, sending a pleasurable warmth beginning to blossom from deep within your chest, you can't help but to tug him even closer now. He's missed you a thousand times more then you'd first realized, and he is not disappointing with making a fraction of it up to you.

Roach snorts impatiently in the background causing you to laugh and Geralt to sneakily stick his tongue in your opened mouth.

You enjoy the surprisingly delightful sensation before a sudden thought sparks into your mind, pulling away from his enticing lips do you look up at his pouting face, your brows furrowed as you tilt your head at him.

"Where's Jaskier?"

Tagged: @seninjakitey @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work) @a-girl-who-loves-disney

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #of monsters and men fic

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 9/9

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89

Notes:

I can't believe this is the end of another story! I truly hope you enjoyed this odd little world I put them in. It was a joy to write something different and share it with all of you. I want to thank my husband for supporting me in all of this weirdness I write about and helping me with the creativity process.

Chapter 9: Merlin

Killian felt like shards of ice had punctured his chest the moment he breached the water, desperately reaching into the depths for anything he could touch. The water was dark, his eyes could barely see in front of him as he swam through the current.

Ahead of him a flash of white tumbled before him, he reached out, his fingers clutching for anything he could grab onto. He yanked the material closer to him only to find the blanket empty. He released it, diving deeper until he saw him sinking below him.

He desperately reached out, grabbing the boy, and pressing him to his chest, he waved his other arm to propel him back to the surface. As soon as he breached the water, he looked down at the infant’s ashen face, his eyes closed, his body unmoving.

He climbed onto the metal landing, the child in his arms. “You just won’t fucking give up, will you?” He looked up to see Neal standing a few feet away, a dagger digging into the side of his captor.

Emma.

He looked down at the boy in his arms, his son. Henry. He wasn’t breathing, lying almost peacefully at his side.

“Don’t move.”

Killian ignored the order, instead lying the boy on his back on the ground, rubbing his palm against the boy’s chest.

“I said don’t move.”

“Sod off.” Killian yelled.

“I’ll kill her.” He growled and he heard Emma squeal in pain, causing his hands to freeze as he looked up to see the blood on the dagger, a cut against Emma’s neck.

“You hurt her, and I swear to you Neal, I will kill you.” He said angrily.

“Save Henry.” Emma shrilled as Neal yanked her against him. She didn’t need to ask him twice, he continued his work on the boy, desperate to hear his cry again.

Killian breathed into the boy, sending all of his care and devotion for the child into his lungs.

Breathe, please breathe.

He could hear Emma’s sobs across the room, further away than they had been previously, his eyes were watching the tiny boy laying lifeless in front of him. He pressed his mouth against him once more, breathing as his heart pounded. “Please, Henry…”

A soft sputter caused his eyes to open as he looked down at the boy, his eyes suddenly open. Killian tilted the boy to his side allowing the water to flow from his mouth as the boy started to cry weakly. “Come now lad, get it all out.” The child squirmed uncomfortably in his wet clothing and Killian cradled the boy against his chest, looking up to reassure Emma only to find her gone.

Ruby came rushing into the room with David hot on her heels, covered in a dark ooze. “I don’t ever want to see what one of those things looks like from the inside ever again.” He complained. When they saw Killian they both ran forward.

“What happened? Are you ok? Is Henry….” Ruby asked without waiting for any response as she looked around. “Where’s Emma?”

Killian pressed his lips to the boy’s forehead and handed him to the woman. “Look after him. I need to go after Emma, Neal has her.” Ruby took the boy and David followed him as they both rushed toward the pier on the other side of the large opening.

“What happened to you, Mate?” He asked as David got closer and the stench of whatever remained on him reached his nose.

“Regina.” He said disgusted. “Or whatever the hell that thing was that looked like her.”

“Up there.” Killian pointed, as two figures moved in the fog. “That has to be them.”

“Be careful.” David warned as they rushed forward.

They approached the end of the dock just as he heard Emma’s angry voice. “If anything happened to my son, I swear to God Neal…” She screeched in pain.

“I said stop fucking talking, dammit why do you always have to talk.” Neal growled. Killian leapt onto the boat, landing with a dull thud. “Is that you lover boy?” He heard Neal taunt from the front of the vessel.

Killian stilled his movement, crouching behind the open door to the bridge.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Neal sang.

Killian waited in his spot as the man’s footsteps approached. “How’s that bastard kid doing?” He sneered just as Killian rushed forward from his spot, colliding with Neal’s body as they crashed to the deck.

Rolling on the ground, he grabbed the man by the collar, smashing his head toward the wooden planks. Neal kicked his feet, catching Killian off guard as he was pushed toward the wall. Killian grasped for the man’s arm that held the blade, lunging forward and sinking his teeth into the skin at his wrist causing the man to release his hold on the blade and dropping it to the ground with a thud.

The man’s eyes widened, the fear of losing the upper hand overtaking him as Killian’s fist landed punch after punch against the man’s face. “Stay down.” His voice growled in a tone that he didn’t recognize as his own. The man beneath him had tried to take away everything he loved, Emma, Henry, who he was. He had tried to destroy everything simply for power.

“You’ll never win.” The man taunted. “My father will destroy you all.”

Killian stilled, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him toward him. “We’ve already won.” He smirked. “You’re over. You’re nothing.”

Killian pulled the man to his feet, yanking him toward the front of the boat to find Emma. She was tied to the mast, tears pouring from her face. “Killian.” She cried, hope seeping through her desperation.

“Isn’t this heartwarming…” Neal started beside him.

“Would you bloody shut up.” He hissed and Neal smiled.

“You really think you can just move on now? This town is doomed. The plague will spread and destroy you all.”

Killian turned and punched the man square in the jaw, sending him spiraling backward against the wooden planks. Killian turned back to Emma, untying her hands, and pulling her into his arms. “Henry?” She pleaded.

“He’s with Ruby, he’s alright.” She sighed and closed her eyes, tears still falling against her cheek.

“I thought I had lost you both.”

“Haven’t I already told you love, I’m a survivor. It appears the lad gets that from me.” She laughed against his chest, leaning heavily against him. “Come now, let’s get back to our boy.” She leaned back and looked at him, a smile on her lips.

“Our boy. I like that.”

“Aye, me too.”

She started to walk away before her eyes got wide. “Killian…”

Before he could turn he felt pain in his shoulder, turning to see the end of a dagger and Neal’s face in view. He shieled Emma, taking the brunt of Neal’s body as the man crashed into him, slamming them against the wooden mast. Killian kicked with his feet to bring him crashing to the ground as he reached behind him, yanking the blade from his skin with a haunting howl.

He brandished the weapon in front of him as Neal stood once more, dancing from one foot to the other. Suddenly there was a crash as Emma sent a crate smashing against Neal’s body and he turned with a murderous glare at the woman on the other side of the boat. Killian watched in horror as he advanced on the woman he loved, a fist catching her across the face and Killian rushed forward, the blade in his hand.

Neal was on top of Emma, his hand pulled back to strike another blow when Killian plunged the dagger into the man’s back causing him to arch into him, a scream leaving his lips. Killian pulled him backwards, away from Emma and onto the decking. His eyes were open, staring at the fog lit moon, but there was nothing beneath his pupils. Blood was dripping from the sides of his open mouth. Neal was dead.

“No! My son!” A shot rang out causing Emma and Killian to freeze in place, the ricochet of the bullet sparking just at their feet. Shadows exiting the fog approached as Mr. Gold drug a limping David beside him. “You killed my son, you stupid bastard.”

“I’m sorry…” David began as he got closer, but Killian brushed off his guilt, it was not his fault that these men were here.

“You will all pay for this. This town is doomed, all of its people will beg me to save them.” He raised his gun toward Emma and Killian stepped in front of her, his arms pulling her back behind him as he closed his eyes and waited for death to come.

A shot rang out and he clenched his fist against the fabric of Emma’s jacket, but when the pain didn’t come his eyes sprang open. Mr. Gold lay at his feet, red spreading across his back.

“You must be Emma Swan.” The man approached the boat, a gun smoldering in his grasp.

Emma stepped out from beside him, cautiously glancing in his direction. “Who are you?”

“Why dear child, I’m Merlin, I believe you summoned me, did you not?”

~*~

Emma paced the room as she waited. “It’s been hours.” She complained as Ruby looked on nervously. “Shouldn’t we have heard something by now.”

“It takes time.” Killian reassured from his seat in the corner. “We don’t even know if it’s going to work yet.”

Emma groaned in frustration and David stood to place his hand on her shoulder. “Whatever happens, she’s very proud of how you fought for this.” Emma smiled at him, an offer of reassurance that she appreciated his words, but so much was riding on this experiment.

It had only been 12 hours since Merlin arrived outside the walls of Storybrooke, saving them from Mr. Gold and bringing their group back inside to the laboratory held within the bowels of their underground headquarters. If Henry’s blood could be used to cure J2, his people would be able to use it to save Mary Margaret and Will.

If.

The word stuck in the roof of her mouth as she ran over the events in her head. They had no idea if the fact that Emma and Killian had both survived the plague, meant anything for their son’s chances at having what they needed to cure it from their world. It could be a game changer, but it was a dangerous vision.

Henry had given The Resistance something they had been seeking since they began.

Hope.

And Emma dreaded what would happen if that tiny piece of sunshine turned out to be nothing. Just a light that burned out before it could destroy the darkness.

The doors opened behind her, and Merlin stepped into the room.

“The boy is remarkable, truly a bundle of joy.”

“Did it work?”

He laughed. “It’s too early to tell. His blood does show signs of reducing the cells in the J2 variant, we won’t know more until tests can be done back in Camelot, but…” He turned toward David. “Your wife was insistent that we test it on her. As was the stubborn man that accompanies her in that room.”

Emma laughed at the mention of Will, her indeed stubborn friend.

“When will we know something?” David asked.

“In a few hours, we will retest, determine if there has been any change in their situation. You should all get some sleep; we will wake you in the morning.”

“What about Henry?” Killian asked anxiously.

“Ah the boy, yes, he was quite tired, you are free to retrieve him from our nurse.”

Emma grasped Killian’s hand and drug him past the group into the wing behind him, searching for their son. Her heart sped up as they reached his room, stopping in front before it swung open, and the nurse met them at the door. “He will probably sleep most of the night.” She offered before wrapping him in a blanket and passing him to Emma.

Her smile grew when she gazed at the sleeping boy’s face, peaceful and unaware of the events he had just experienced. They returned to their room and Emma carried him to her bed, lying him down as she snuggled in beside him, not wanting to keep him from her sight for a moment. She felt the bed move as Killian flanked the child from the other side, his hand brushing the boy’s cheek.

She looked up and met his eye, a soft smile residing on his lips. “Survivor.” He whispered and Emma felt the tears release from her eyes.

“I’m never letting either of you go, ever again.” She cried.

“Aye love, you won’t need to.” He clasped her hand in his and rest it atop the small boy’s body.

“My boys.” She said softly, watching as Killian kissed their child’s forehead and then rest his against the pillow.

~*~

Killian chased Emma through the halls, cradling his son in his arms as he rushed after her. “God’s woman, he’s not going anywhere.” He joked, but she simply continued her pace until she reached the door.

She pushed through the door, entering the room with nervous anticipation.

“Will!” She said with a smile, seeing the man sitting up in his bed, a bandage around his waist but a smile on his face.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Emmie. Have you been sleeping alright?” He teased.

“You know damn well I haven’t.” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she attacked him on the bed. Killian felt as if he were intruding on the moment, his eyes focusing on his son instead, the soft smile of the child staring up at him.

“I’m fine, woman. You can stop inspecting me.” Will complained and Killian couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Can’t you keep her occupied?” He snorted. “I expected the two of you to be still locked in a bedroom as you…Ow.” He winced as Emma pinched his bicep.

“’Fraid there was no keeping her from you, Mate.” He winked stepping closer to run his hand against Emma’s back.

“There he is.” He said with a smile as Henry was brought closer to him. “My hero.” He reached out and Killian lay his son in the man’s arms, stepping back to watch them. “Always knew you’d be special.” Will cooed to the giggling child.

“How are you feeling?” Emma asked.

“Like I could run a marathon.” He paused. “I’m not, because that sound bloody awful, but if I wanted to, I think I could.”

“Merlin’s team is working fast to prepare all the supplies. The Resistance teams are heading out into the foglands to deliver as many crates as they can.”

“How’s it feel to be the bonafide savior of Storybrooke?”

Emma laughed. “Stop. I didn’t do anything.��

“Emmie, you risked everything for this whole town, to get the truth out. That makes you a savior to a lot of people.”

Emma chuckled nervously. “You helped too.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Will grinned widely. “And this one.” He gestured toward him. “Well, I guess he had somethin’ to do with it.”

“Thanks, Mate.” He said sarcastically.

“I mean besides making a baby that saved mankind.” He said with a shrug.

“William.” Emma slapped teasingly at her friend.

“How’s Mum?” The man asked of the woman who had taken them all in.

“She’s already up and about, working with Merlin to organize the destruction of the wall.” Killian responded, thinking of the way that the woman had refused to rest, immediately started planning and working to gather her troops to ensure that everyone was accounted for and ready to help.

“Yeah and all while you’ve been sleeping in this bed.” Emma smirked.

“Cheeky git.” Will swore.

After the wall came down, the town nervously reunited with loved ones who had been exiled beyond the wall, mourned those who never returned, and celebrated a cure to the disease that had caused so much destruction in its wake.

Remnants of the Hive, lost boys who followed Gold beyond his demise were slowly being brought in by the Storybrooke PD, Killian and David fought tirelessly to ensure the safety of the town and its people. Merlin remained long enough to ensure that they could rebuild on their own, returning to Camelot once the new Mayor had been elected.

“Have you seen Henry’s blue shirt?” Emma asked from the other side of the apartment. “I can’t find it.”

“Aye, it’s on the bed.”

She walked into the room with a flustered look on her face. “How did I miss it; I was just in here.”

He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his lap. “Perhaps it’s time to take a break.”

She laughed. “You just want to make out with me.”

He bit his lip and his brow raised. “You’re not wrong, love.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she squirmed on his lap.

“I have to dress Henry.”

“Is the lad even awake yet?”

“Of course not, you know he sleeps like you. I need to wake him so that we can get ready to leave, otherwise we are definitely going to be late.”

“Mmm.” He grinned, brushing her hair from her neck. “While I do enjoy it when we’re late, I generally prefer the act of making you come on any occasion.” She blushed red.

“Killian.” She slapped playfully at his chest as he gripped her hips with his fingers, pulling her against him.

“Yes love?” He questioned with a smirk. “There are many ways I enjoy hearing my name fall from your lips, perhaps a tour of some of my favorites is in order.”

Her teeth nipped at his lips, a soft moan escaping her lips as she ground against his hips.

“Minx.” He teased, flipping them over on the bed as she giggled in excitement.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Jones, it’s 9:30 am, pollution level 15%, you have an event at 10:30 am today.”

“Not now.” He groaned, lifting Emma’s shirt to expose the skin as her waist. “I have my own event to tend to right now.”

“We’re going to be late.”

He lifted his head, locking eyes with her. “Mrs. Jones, your body is like an expensive watch. He pushed the material at her waist further up her body, exposing her bare breast. He slid his hand against her flesh, pinching at her pert nipple. “A few twists here,” He pinched, and she moaned appreciatively. “A tweak there.” Her head fell back against the bed. “I know this body better than anything in the world, I’ll have you singing with time to spare.”

“Then why are you wasting so much of it.” She smirked.

Killian lowered his head, his hand roaming his wife’s body, worshiping between her legs until she screamed out his name, the satisfying smirk remaining on his face as he plunged himself inside of her, causing his name to fall from her lips over and over again in a way that he would never tire of.

“I told you we would be late.” She complained over an hour later as they arrived at the station.

“I’m not the one who insisted that we shower.” He grinned.

“Did we actually shower?” She teased.

“I seem to recall there was water. And a very enticing sexy vixen who was worshiping at my feet.”

“Stop that, we’re in public.” She blushed. “And he’s listening to everything you say.”

Killian stared at his son in his arms, the boy giggling and gurgling as he grasped Killian’s chin with his tiny fingers. “Aye, your mother is a marvel lad, very talented indeed, one day you’ll understand.” Killian said in a soft voice, almost singing at the young boy as the child grinned.

“Oh Lord, you’re impossible.” Emma said, rolling her eyes before she was wrapped up in strong arms as Will met her at the door.

“You’re late.”

“Blame him.” Emma thumbed toward him. “He needed a cold shower.”

“Cold and bracing.” He winked.

“I don’t believe either of you. Now get in here, it’s about to start.”

Killian followed them into the hall, nodding to David who was standing near his wife. The man smiled appreciatively as his wife was sworn in as the new mayor of Storybrooke. A large photo of Regina Mills hanging on the wall behind them.

“Our town has faced much darkness in the last few years, a time where hope was far from our sight. But we never gave up, we climbed back to the light, and now together, we face a strong and prosperous future. Regina Mills gave up her life in protection of this town, for her people, and today I am proud to continue that fight. Storybrooke stands today because of family, triumph, and love and I intend to ensure that it always will.”

The town erupted in cheers and Killian proudly stood by Emma’s side, his son in his arms, and hope in his heart.

#void of extinction #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #captain swan

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