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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Note

congratulations! 📚 could you do promos 4 & 7 from the smut with Natasha Romanoff???

by the way, I hope you have a great day/night!

Brat

Relationship: CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, fingering, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I went a bit CEO!Natasha with this one - hope that’s okay, I thought it lent well! Also, thank you! I hope you're having a nice day/night as well :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You really didn’t want to go and Natasha knew this but she was also quite the persuasive one, having such a dominance to her that you could rarely, if ever, say no to.

So, that’s how you found yourself a bit grumpily sitting in the car passenger seat while your girlfriend drove you two to whatever charity banquet this was.

Natasha was constantly getting these invitations being the high-up, fancy CEO that she was and usually you were fine with them. You liked the little appetizers and flutes of champagne. You especially liked your girlfriend parading you around, showing you off to fancy city people.

But tonight just wasn’t the night for you. You had had a ridiculous day at your own job and frankly, you just wanted to lounge around with your girl, maybe order pizza, and have lazy sex. Natasha had shut down your idea, saying she already RSVP’d for you two. Grudgingly, you shoved yourself into a dress and let her whisk you away

Little did she know, though, that you weren’t letting down easily. You had some potential ideas for the night, hoping that maybe — just maybe — you can rile Natasha up enough to keep her focus just on you and not the millionaires trying to network.

Upon arriving at the event, you hunted down the first tray of champagne you could find, taking a swig of the alcohol promptly. Natasha followed your path, stopping every now and then to chat, but once she was free of the schmoozing, she marched right towards you. An arm made it was tightly around your waist.

"What is your problem?" She gritted in your ear just below a whisper so no one could pick up on the tension. Your eyes darted around the room

"Nothing," you responded, taking another sip of champagne.

Natasha scoffed. "Well, you’re acting like a brat." She grabbed your glass out of your hand. You gasped but before you could protest, Natasha asked, "Is this because I made you come here tonight?

You shot her a look before taking back your champagne and finishing it off. "I’m gonna go get another drink."

Before your girlfriend could pull you back to her, you were already on a rampage for the bar. Luckily, no one tried to stop you. Thanks to your relations with Natasha, you had worked up a bit of your own status but it wasn’t like anyone genuinely cared. You weren’t negotiating deals.

You leaned on the bar and signaled for the bartender. You asked for something a little stronger. He nodded politely and got to making the drink. You turned your attention to the freshly polished wood of the bar.

Running a finger over it carelessly as you waited, out of the corner of your eye you noticed someone approach beside you. It was a man you somehow didn’t recognize. He looked very well put-together, almost like he was trying too hard, with his designer pressed suit and hair that could go up in flames from all the product in it.

You tried to ignore him, turning your attention to the bartender who was still at work, but it was hard when the man was not-so-subtly inching towards you. This wasn’t going to go very well, you thought. But you weren’t stopping it.

"In need of something to get you through the night?" The man suddenly asked. Your gaze shot over to him.

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled, "I meant the drink."

As if on cue, a glass was placed right in front of you. You wrapped your hands around it, slowly bringing it to your lips for a sip as you eyed the stranger. He was watching you quite intensely.

You hummed, delighted by the cocktail. "These things can sometimes be…draining."

He sighed. "Tell me about it."

The conversation fell into a lull. You tried glancing around at the other patrons, all completely oblivious to the bar, but just couldn’t shake this man and his eyes which were still watching you. They shamelessly took in the curves of your dress and even lingered a bit on your chest.

Your stomach dropped as you suddenly saw him step even closer, his finger lightly brushing your arm in the process. You froze but still made no chance to dash away. Maybe your goal of annoying your girlfriend tonight was going a bit too far…

"You know," he began, his voice dangerously low, "if you wanted to sneak away for a bit—"

"She doesn’t," Natasha gritted as she suddenly approached you two. You just about let out a sigh of relief as her arm came around your waist, pulling you into her side. You yelped at the action, stumbling a bit, but she held you tight.

The mystery man looked you two over, a bit of a pleased expression graced his face. But he didn’t press further, probably very deterred by the daggers Natasha’s eyes were shooting at him. He collected his drink from the bar and raised it at you two as if in some awkward toast.

"Fair enough, ladies," he said, and then he was back in the crowd, lost in the sea of aristocrats.

You didn’t know what to do now, opting to stare down at your drink.

"What the hell was that about?" Natasha asked.

"I- He just came up to me," you pouted.

Natasha shook her head in disappointment as she began walking you two away from everyone else. You didn’t know where she was leading you until you were roughly pulled into the women’s restroom. It was empty, thankfully, and you heard the turn of the lock as you placed your drink on the counter.

"He just came up to you," Natasha repeated. She was sauntering over, looking very much more like some powerful CEO than your sweet girlfriend. You gulped and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink. "He may have came up to you but I didn’t see you making any moves to walk away."

"Well—"

"And you let him touch you," she scoffed. "Don’t think I didn’t see his fingers on your fucking arm." For emphasis, she gripped the spot he had brushed over. You yelped. "What made you think he could do that, hmm? What, did you forget who you belong to?"

"No, Natasha, I didn’t mean—" You pleaded but she wasn’t buying it.

"I’m not buying it," she said as she roughly turned you around, her back pressing your front into the bathroom counter. "In fact, I think you need a little reminder."

You held your breath in anticipation as Natasha began gathering the skirt of your dress. You knew what she was going to find underneath. And you certainly knew it wasn’t going to help your case.

Sure enough, once your lower region was exposed, Natasha let out a gasp. “No panties? Are you kidding me right now?!”

"Natasha, please—"

"You really are a fucking brat, aren’t you?"

You tried shaking your head but it was no use. Her mind was made as she pressed into you even more, her hand now coming to caress your inner thigh. You whimpered out your girlfriend’s name as her fingers began slowly circling your clit. She chuckled in your ear before collecting some of the wetness dripping from your folds and putting attention back on your clit.

"So wet for me," Natasha murmured. "It is for me, right? Or did that man out there get you dripping like a needy slut?"

You groaned, captivated by the action happening between your thighs. "Just for you," you said as your eyes slowly fluttered. Natasha picked up the pace adding slight pressure as well. You squealed.

"That’s it," she whispered, holding you tighter around the waist. "That’s my girl."

Suddenly, though, she moved her fingers back to your folds where, without warning, she shoved two fingers inside you. You yelped, twisting in her grip. She didn’t even budge. You cried out as the fingers flicked upwards, hitting just the right spots.

"If you want to act like a slut you have to deal with being fingered like one, got it?" Natasha said. Her mouth was practically on your ear, she was whispering so lowly it sent goosebumps up your arms. She was pissed and serious. You were loving it.

"Y-Yes, Natasha." You barely managed to get the words out but your girlfriend seemed very pleased. Her fingers picked up — significantly. A squelching noise now filled the bathroom, coming directly from your wetness which was not stopping any time soon it seemed. Natasha was also taking the moment to make sure her hand was hitting your clit. With every single pump. It was getting overwhelming very, very fast.

You spoke again, "Please, please… I’m gonna cum."

"Yeah?" Natasha mocked. "My little slut needs to cum?"

You nodded your head profusely. "Please, please." The begging was becoming second nature at this point, your only instinct. Natasha seemed very pleased with that.

"Fine," she huffed. "Cum all over my fingers you greedy little girl. And you better scream when you cum. I want every single person, especially that man, to know who’s treating you so well."

Her paced picked up even more (how that was possible you didn’t know) and your body reacted wonderfully. Within moments, you were crumbling like a house of cards. Your orgasm rushed over you as you cried out much louder than you had actually intended. You couldn’t stop as Natasha continued to work you through the orgasm. She didn’t give up until you were limp in her arms.

She chuckled, watching your body practically collapse from pleasure. "Was that good, honey?"

"Yes," you mumbled, leaning into her body. Natasha fixed your dress and brought her hand to caress your cheek.

"Good," she said and placed a quick kiss on your lips. "Maybe that’ll teach you to behave."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "Why would I behave when that’s what I get for being bad?"

Abruptly, Natasha’s hand came around your neck, forcing you to look at her. Her gaze was dark, her CEO stance still very much engaged. "Don’t even tempt me."

You bit your lip teasingly but nodded your head slowly. You certainly didn’t mean it, though, already secretly planning the next time you could ruffle her feathers.

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fandom-imagines · 3 years

Text

A bad case of jealousy

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Jealous!Hanzo x Jealous!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Like one swear word.

“Isn’t he incredibly handsome?” One of the new recruits whispered as three of them entered the room. “I mean even the way he dresses is handsome.”

“He really is,” another chimed in, a lovesick look gracing their features.

Y/N watched the group for a little while longer, genuine interest sparking within her as to who they were discussing.

“Hey, Genji,” she leant over to the cyborg, whispering in his ear so that nobody around the pair was able to hear her question. “Who are they talking about? Do you know?”

“I believe it to be my brother. They were swooning over him practicing his archery skills. It was quite amusing if I do say so myself.”

“Oh,”

Noticing the sudden change in behaviour of his close friend, he decided to somewhat comfort her. “I could be wrong though.”

Wordlessly, the girl nodded before standing up and leaving the room.

A tense feeling overcame Hanzo as the latest recruits, who he had not had the unfortune of speaking to yet, stood in the corner of the room giggling to one another as they stared at him yet again.

He had noticed them the first time they were there, inwardly rolling his eyes at their childish antics; it was almost as though they believed he did not notice their attraction to him and the way they would whisper compliments about him.

“I hear he’s single,” he caught the voice of the smallest recruit. “Maybe I should try and win his heart.”

“I heard he doesn’t get attached. Maybe I could change that?” Another said, shooting him a smile which he barely caught, attention being focused on the bow in his hand.

“No way! Surely it would be me,” the final girl spoke. “I hear he likes someone; it has to be me.”

Her final words shocked him, confused as to how somebody knew that he had taken a liking to somebody. Perhaps it was a mere rumour, or even a lie at that, but everything has some truth to it.

Too deep in his thoughts about the supposed rumour, Hanzo did not notice the girls gradually getting closer until one had their hand on him.

“Hello!” She said a little too eagerly, a bright smile on her face. “What is a man like yourself doing alone in a place like this?”

“Practicing,” came his curt response, praying that the trio would leave soon enough.

None of them seemed discouraged by his unwillingness to converse with them, however. In fact, they seemed delighted that he had even spoke to them.

“Well, do you need some help with that?” Another girl attached herself to the archer, reaching for his bow to ‘help’, but he moved it out of reach before she could touch it.

“I am quite alright, thank you.”

A look of excitement covered her face as she realised that he had said more to her than her friend, something that was an achievement to her.

As the flirting continued, Hanzo couldn’t help but notice a familiar bunch of Y/H/C-hair enter the practice zone, one he quite enjoyed seeing. However, she didn’t stay long, a shocked look filling her face at the sight of three girls clinging to him. He had never seen somebody leave so fast.

“Excuse me,” Hanzo quickly excused himself, brushing off their touch before leaving the zone in search of Y/N.

“Genji, have you perhaps seen Y/N recently?” Hanzo asked his younger brother as he seated himself opposite him.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Not since this morning. Why’d you ask?”

“No reason,” and with that Hanzo excused himself yet again to continue his search for the girl.

It didn’t take him long to find her. She was seated outside, leaning against a tree with her head rested on her bent knees, seemingly deep in thought.

“Y/N,” Hanzo’s deep voice caught her attention, pulling her from said thoughts.

“Hanzo,” she greeted with a polite, and forced, smile.

Hanzo hesitated for a moment, unsure as what to say.

“Forgive me,” was all he could think of.

His words confused the girl, her head tilting in confusion. “For what?”

“You should not have witnessed the scene in the practice range. It was irresponsible of me to allow it to him.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re together or anything. You didn’t want that, and I respect that. You’re welcome to flirt and see who you wish, Hanzo. It’s quite alright.”

Hanzo almost winced at the hurt in her words, guilt filling his body knowing that he was the cause of this. Both the hurt of telling her he did not wish to date her, as well as allowing the trio to flirt with him.

“I-“ Hanzo was cut off by Y/N standing up.

“Like I said, Hanzo. You’re welcome to flirt and date who you please. You rejected me, and that’s alright. I wish you the best with which ever of the three you choose.” And with that she left.

With a guilty look at her back, Hanzo regretted ever telling her he did not wish to date her. Not only was it a complete lie, but he also lost her friendship that day, preventing awkwardness and so.

“Genji, I have a mission with Hanzo and only Hanzo,” Y/N sighed, resting her head on Genji’s lap which was more comfortable than one could imagine.

His hand unconsciously lifted itself to her hair, running his hand through it which was common between them.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Y/N/N. What could possibly go wrong?” He replied.

“I suppose you’re right,”

“Of course I am,”

The trip to where Y/N and Hanzo were to go was an awkward one. Neither of the pair spoke to each other, silently avoiding looking at the other. It was painful.

Once they checked into the hotel, there was a short walk to the room, both ready to settle in for the night; it was freezing outside, a snowstorm taking place.

“Oh,” Y/N’s voice rang throughout the room. “There’s only one bed.”

Panic overtook both of them.

“I shall take the floor, it is not bother.”

Y/N shot him a look as though he was stupid. “Hanzo, it’s freezing. You will surely freeze to death before anything. It’s fine, we can share.”

A blush covered both their cheeks at her words, one they both desperately attempted to hide.

“I’ll go get changed,”

Y/N silently cursed herself for bringing only shorts and a vest. Had she known a snowstorm would be taking place, she would have taken something warmer. She was already freezing.

“Are you going to be okay sleeping like that?” Hanzo asked upon seeing her sleepwear. “Not that I was looking or anything! I just worry…”

Shivering, Y/N responded. “Hopefully I don’t freeze to death. Let’s just go to bed.”

Hanzo simply nodded in agreement.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed, only that they couldn’t sleep. Y/N was both too cold and nervous, and Hanzo was nervous.

“Hanzo,” her use of his name caught his attention. “This is really awkward, but can you cuddle me. I’m freezing.”

Hanzo, whose eyes had widened immensely, shuffled closer to her as he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body close to him in an attempt at providing some warmth to the freezing girl, something in which he succeeded. Within minutes the pair fell asleep, enjoying the others contact; the awkwardness of the following morning was something they hadn’t thought of.

Waking up tangled with Hanzo was something Y/N had imagined many times, but never had expected to happen. Eyes wide, she couldn’t apologise more.

“It is quite alright, Y/N. You most likely would have gotten sick otherwise,”

“I suppose that’s true. But I’m still sorry, that must have been uncomfortable for you.”

“Not at all,” he admitted with reddening cheeks.

“Welcome back guys!” Genji cheered upon the arrival of his brother and best friend. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” came Y/N’s awkward response, pushing past Genji with an apologetic look whilst Hanzo simply nodded in agreement.

“Did something happen?”

“It does not matter.”

Downing another shot, Y/N turned to her two drinking partners: McCree and Genji.

“I have decided,” she slurred. “I am going to get over Hanzo!”

“Yes you are!” An also drunk McCree cheered, patting her on the back. “What’s the plan? I’m always open to help.” He jokingly winked, stroking her hair.

“I will go flirt with the guy who has been buying me drinks all night.”

“You go girl!” Jesse cheered again as he watched his ex Blackwatch co-worker head towards another man.

“I think she may have forgotten we invited Hanzo to join us later,”

Hanzo, much to everyone’s surprise, did in fact join everyone at the bar an hour later. He had no plans of drinking, simply enjoying everybody’s company. But one was missing.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked, glancing towards the cyborg and cowboy who shared a nervous glance.

Both of them knew about Y/N and Hanzo’s feelings, but they also knew how Hanzo had rejected her, quite harshly at that.

“Uhm-“

It was then that Hanzo caught sight of the girl who was standing to leave with another man who had his arm around her waist, his lips on her neck as she giggled.

His two friends stared at him, searching for a reaction which they didn’t have the pleasure of seeing. Instead they witnessed him standing up, almost running towards the door which they had just left through.

“Y/N!” He called out to the girl who was about to climb into a cab. “Wait,” the desperation and determined look on his face was what made her stop in her tracks.

“What is it?” A wide-eyed Y/N asked, watching the man rush towards her.

“I must confess something,” he swallowed. “I am in love with you.”

“I’m sorry what?” She felt the mans arm drop from her waist, clearly getting angry at this strangers sudden confession.

“Look man, go find another girl to spout lovey-dovey crap too, this one is taken.” He snarled, too drunk to notice how easily he would lose a fight against Hanzo if it came to it.”

Hanzo simply brushed off his comment. “I said no out of fear of hurting you, but I seemed to do so by doing that. I never wished to hurt you, that is the last thing I would ever want to do. The truth is, I am too worried that you would not like me if you were to be in a relationship with me, it would hurt me too much to lose you.”

Frozen in shock, Y/N was unsure as to what to do, how to react.

“Hanzo I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It is okay if you do not wish to reply. I shouldn’t have said anything, I apologise sincerely.” He apologised, visibly deflated as he turned to leave.

“Hanzo wait!” The previous man was forgotten, her hand reaching to grab Hanzo’s own to prevent him from leaving.

“I love you too,”

A soft smile graced his lips as he took her hand in his own, attention solely on her.

“I am glad,”

His smile simply widened as Y/N raised a hand to his cheek, holding it in her hand as she placed a short kiss on his lips, pulling away to gaze into his eyes which held nothing but pure adoration.

“I love you, and I’ll always love you.”

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years

Text

Cariño (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 3 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2K Premise: After their confessing their feelings to one another, everyone can see something has changed. Set in book3, Chapter 11.

Author’s Note: More outsider POVs. This girl loved them and will probably never stop writing them.

* “cariño” just means “dear” or “love” in Spanish

Grace

The placid, teal waters of the lagoon glimmer like a cluster of diamonds, blending into a breath-taking gradient with the pink swirls of sunrise. Grace attempts to take a picture, but a measly phone camera will never be enough to capture the splendor.

Instead, she takes in a deep breath, convinced such a view is worth getting up early for after a late night of drinking and dancing.

“Nothing… is… worth this, Ethan,” a breathless voice says from nearby, interrupting the silence on the otherwise deserted beach.

“Doctor Allende, I am shocked at you,” a male voice responds. “You know the benefits of regular exercise as well as any other physician.”

It's a young and rather attractive couple jogging down the shore. At least, the taller of the two figures seems to be jogging. The shorter, curvier one is slouching over, dragging their feet against the sand.

“Try to keep up, Lilac.”

As they approach, Grace immediately recognizes them from the previous night at Ines and Angie's reception. Their attractive features would have been enough to make them memorable, but what Grace remembers the most is the long, lingering looks they would cast one another from across the venue.

Now, they move side by side, the tall, handsome man clad in only swimming trunks, his broad shoulders and toned muscles glistening in the first glimmers of sunlight. The pretty brunette at his side wears a bright one-piece that has no right looking so flattering, her dark hair swaying in a high ponytail.

“Jogging isn't exercise. It's a form of medieval torture,” the young woman returns, panting after every other word.

“And you say I'm the dramatic one,” he returns with a chuckle.

Lilac, not listening, slows her steps until she stops entirely, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ethan rolls his eyes but laughs nonetheless, retracting his steps to return to her side.

“Fine,” he concedes. “You win. No more jogging for today.”

At the words, the brunette recovers miraculously, straightening and shooting him a flirtatious smile. Her companion watches her, as though her unbridled delight is the most precious rarity in the world. When he seems unable to fight the urge any longer, he pulls her to him with a roguish half smile that has even Grace's knees trembling.

Without much preamble or regard for who might be watching, he kisses her, his hands moving to cradle her face.

Grace tries to glance away, giving them as much privacy as possible, but the stark difference from last night captures her attention entirely. At the wedding, there was something quiet and restrained about the way they longed for each other. Today, there is freedom and unabashed happiness in every movement, in every smile, in every small gesture of affection.

“Now will you take pictures?” Lilac asks him, adding a flutter of her lashes to plead her case.

“Was that your only motive for accepting my invitation to exercise? Pictagram worthy shots?”

“You're a Pictagram worthy shot,” she returns without missing a beat, pulling their bodies close again and sealing the coy statement with a kiss.

Ethan does not need much more persuading after that. Despite the groan he lets out, he agrees far too quickly for a man who spends the following two minutes criticizing social media.

At last, he willingly becomes the subject of many of his girlfriend's photographs, even following her directions of different poses. He visibly enjoys the role of photographer when it's finally his turn to take pictures of her. Grace doesn't blame him in the least since Lilac works that camera with captivating poses.

“Now us together,” Lilac says after a while. The words are rushed, as though knowing what the answer will be.

“Absolutely not. No more selfies.”

He takes many selfies with her.

“Excuse me,” Grace says after watching her struggle to capture the beautiful lagoon behind them. “Sorry to interrupt but would you like me to take your picture?”

Lilac appears delighted by the offer, accepting and smiling at Grace so brightly that she too would agree to arduous photoshoots if she asked.

“Alright, say 'cheese.'” Grace lifts the phone Lilac gives her, careful to include the beautiful scenery in the shot.

Ethan looks as though he'd rather be dragged off by a shark than to say the word.

A millisecond before Grace takes the picture, however, Lilac cranes her neck to kiss his cheek, murmuring something in his ear. Whatever it is makes Ethan's smile rival the rising sun on the horizon.

Tobias

Ethan peers down at the coral drink in his companion’s hand, his brow furrowed as though the mere existence of so much color in an alcoholic drink offends him. Tobias watches from the end of the poolside bar with interest, keeping his urge to laugh at bay. Such a visceral reaction to a fun drink is so characteristic of his ex friend that Tobias can hardly help his amusement.

“What the hell is that?” Ethan is asking her.

Lilac Allende is not as successful in biting back her own amusement. She laughs at once, as though she expected such a reaction from him.

“Sex on the beach,” she answers, her voice a husky little pronouncement that is meant to weaken the will of even the strongest of beings. Paired with a lazy, deliberate nail up his arm and the world renowned Ethan Ramsey doesn't stand a chance.

Tobias, still unnoticed by the couple, gives an impressed nod, respecting her game.

“I—” Ethan stammers.

He puts on a brave attempt at impassiveness after this but even Tobias can see the doctor’s ears brighten with color.

“You want to—” His voice drops an octave. “Again?”

“It's the name of the drink, Ramsey,” she informs him in a would-be innocent voice. It's promptly spoiled by her laughter at Ethan's utterly stunned expression.

“You're an unabashed tease, Allende.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

Tobias pauses at the word, uttered so confidently. He almost expects a grimace from his old friend, maybe a hasty change in the conversation. But Ethan surprises him thoroughly by smirking down at the brunette, an expression of pure adoration on his face.

“You're right,” Ethan whispers close to her ear. His voice drops so low that Tobias doesn't catch what he tells her next.

Much to Tobias's continued surprise, the usually confident and vivacious young doctor blushes.

The couple spends the following moments murmuring words that are too low for anyone nearby to hear. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the content of their quiet conversation ranges from nauseatingly romantic to explicit.

They are interrupted by the arrival of one of Dr. Allende's friends, a short and exuberant resident whose name Tobias hadn't learned yet. After Ethan's reassurances that he will catch up in a few, they depart toward the beach where a group of grinning young doctors awaits.

“Never thought I'd see the serious and private Ethan Ramsey engage in PDA.”

If Ethan is surprised to see Tobias occupying a seat nearby, he does a masterful job at masking it. Unfazed, he simply stares at Tobias, willing him to get to the point.

“I knew you two were together thanks to the rumor mill, but I didn't realize it was this serious.”

Ethan narrows his eyes, the only hint of a reaction from him. For all of Tobias's suave swagger, the mistrust he sees in the other doctor's expression stings more than he'd ever admit out loud. He shouldn't have expected any less after all the years laden with dishonesty between both men.

Still, Tobias raises his hands in defeat, letting out a laugh that is not entirely genuine.

“Just trying to make some friendly conversation,” he tells him.

Ethan turns away to face the glass of scotch before him, as though it serves as a more superior conversation partner than Tobias. Knowing when to throw in the towel, Tobias takes his drink and prepares to move away.

“Things are… different,” Ethan finally says before Tobias can move.

It's not much but for Ethan Ramsey, that is as good an olive branch as he'll ever get.

“Lilac is…”

“Different?” Tobias finishes for him.

Even as friends, they were never poetic or sentimental. But Tobias understands the depth behind the single word without further explanation.

“I can see that,” Tobias continues with a small chuckle. “It's obvious to anyone that knows you that she's special.”

Ethan looks at him then, a flicker of surprise on his otherwise impenetrable expression.

“It's nice to see you happy.”

The words leave Tobias before he has any consciousness of forming them. He is shocked—far more than Ethan in that moment—to find he means them.

Naveen

The spell cast by a vacation in a beautiful, faraway place comes to a close as their departure time trickles near. Lamenting this fact, Naveen rounds the corner of the unfamiliar hotel hallway.

He knows better than anyone of the challenges that lay ahead for them as they return to Bloom Edenbrook. He also knows that most of those challenges will be endured by his protégé. What worries him the most is how Ethan will face the strife that is still to come.

Naveen’s steps soon come to a halt a few rooms down when the door to Ethan's room opens.

“...that we got everything, babe.”

Lilac Allende emerges, unaware of Naveen and speaking over her shoulder as she hauls her luggage into the hall. She pauses in the hallway, rummaging through her purse.

“So you decided on 'babe' then?” Ethan asks dryly, appearing at her side with his own suitcase in tow.

“You decided,” Lilac returns cheerfully turning to face him.

“How do you figure I did that exactly?”

“Last night, before we fell asleep. I informed you we had a very important decision to make,” Lilac recounts quite seriously. “I asked you what you wanted me to call you.”

Ethan nods, playfully feigning interest as though they're discussing the specifics of a particularly difficult case.

“I laid out all the possible pet names and you chose 'babe'.”

“I have no recollection of doing that.”

“I told you it was down to 'bear', 'lamb chop', or 'babe'.”

Much to Naveen's amusement, Ethan grimaces at the list of pet names, his expression growing more horrified with each one.

“Just call me your usual ones in Spanish.”

“Oh, I will, cariño. I have a whole list of those ready. Lucky for you, I’m bilingual so you’re getting both. Babe was the one that got the quietest grunt from you, so I assumed that's the one you decided on. But if you'd rather I call you 'bear', then I have no—”

Ethan, who had been watching her with such a lovestruck expression since the word “cariño”, calls her bluff in the form of a kiss. All pretense vanishes as Lilac melts into the kiss, smiling blissfully against his lips.

“We should leave now if we want to make our flight,” Ethan says, breaking apart with a sigh. “Here. I'll take these.”

He grips the handle of her suitcase, ready to pull it along with his own.

“Thanks, babe,” she says with a wink, emphasizing the last word.

Ethan rolls his eyes but smiles—a rare, genuine smile Naveen only sees when he's around Lilac.

“It's growing on you, isn't it?”

“Perhaps,” Ethan concedes. “Or maybe I'd let you call me whatever you want.”

Lilac laughs, delighted.

“I'd be careful in awarding Dr. Allende that much power,” Naveen says to make his presence known.

The couple turns to look at him, Lilac with an amicable smile and Ethan with a resigned sigh.

“Too late for that,” Lilac responds brightly.

At that, Naveen laughs in agreement much to Ethan's chagrin.

“Is there something you needed or were you just prying?” Ethan asks though not unkindly.

It is a rare sight, though a pleasant one, to see them simply be with one another, all guards down. By Naveen's observations, they are always the picture of professionalism at Edenbrook—at least to the public eye. But now, as they stand side by side, fearless and unapologetic in their affection, Naveen realizes his concern for Ethan was in vain.

“The reason for my visit seems pointless now,” he admits with a small chuckle.

Ethan raises his brows, unconvinced.

“Forgive the interruption,” Naveen goes on. Before he turns to leave, he offers them a barely restrained grin. “And for the record, Ethan, I would have chosen 'lamb chop.'”

Author’s Note: I finally wrote in my hc that MC calls Ethan babe ironically (and to annoy him) at first but they end up liking it as time goes on lol.

Thank you so much for reading this!

Thank you @aestheticartsx for pre-reading!

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #Ethan Ramsey Fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #My writing

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

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The Gang Reacts to You Dressing Fancy for a Job

“Is it okay to ask for the RDR2 gang (or just Javier if it’s too much!) seeing their crush all prettied and dressed up for a job (like the riverboat or Bronte’s garden party)? Would they work up the courage to ask them out? your writing sustains me”

YAAALLLLL THIS LONG AS FUCK BC THIS! IS! MY! RASPBERRY! JAM!

In this imagine, you’ll be impressing: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones, Flaco Hernandez

ARTHUR MORGAN

Oh no. When you were volunteered for the job, he had a feeling you’d look charming in one of those big hooped gowns, but … this is like his heart getting hit by a train. The feelings are a little overwhelming, so while the girls add their finishing touches, Arthur tries to stand to the side and not stare. He wants to compliment you, because you look absolutely stunning, but words are completely failing him. Arthur manages to get a compliment out, but you’re totally occupied with how much you love or hate this get-up. Arthur doesn’t even care about what he was forced to wear; he could be in a paper sack and he wouldn’t notice. During the party, he’s distracted by how you seem to float around the room, easily joking with the guests as though you were one of them. Hosea has to knock sense into Arthur more than once, but how can he pay attention when there’s a literal angel in front of him?

When the gunfight breaks out, Arthur is at your side right away, pulling you into his protective embrace and trying to steer you out of the house. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good shot or not, that dress and corset are cumbersome as hell and he’s gonna stubbornly send you home. Arthur wants to be the one taking you back, but he has to stay and fight. He hands you off to Sean, warning him to be careful and get you back to camp in one piece. His tone is actually pretty scary when he says this. Arthur is beyond relieved when he finally gets back. You’re out of the dress, but you’re clearly safe and comfortable, not a scratch on you. He doesn’t care about his own injuries, but he’s pleased when you fuss over them.

JOHN MARSTON

No way John is gonna dress up like some goddamn banker, but he was totally ready to tease you about having to squeeze into a corset and frilly dress. The problem is, you’re gorgeous in it. He doesn’t know shit about women’s clothes or fashion, but something about the color and style just suits you so perfectly, like it was made only for you. He wants to give a sassy comment, but he just … can’t. John goes for a genuine compliment, but his cheeks and ears are tomato red as he mutters “ya look real nice”. If you hate the clothes, it’s a little easier for him to joke around with you, but if you love them and you’re twirling around, as happy as a kid and looking like an actual lady from one of those fancy paintings? He can only take so much sweetness before he has to duck his head and distract himself with something.

When the gunfight breaks out at the party, John is right by your side before you can blink. You don’t know how he moved so fast, but soon his arm is around your waist and getting you back to his horse. John isn’t the most graceful about this, and the dress is meant for dancing, not riding… so it ends up ripping as you two make your escape. Once you’re in a safe place and you can get out of the damn thing, John’s attention goes straight to the tears in the dress, specifically the one that’s showing the stockings and garterbelt you had to wear. The lingerie looks fantastic - it definitely awakens something in him.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

First off, he is not sneaky. Not at all. You know exactly why you were asked to play a role in this little con, and it was so Dutch could see you all dressed up. Now, either you’re totally annoyed by this because screw frills and lace, or you’re delighted because you can dress up like some fancy lady and rob rich folks. Also, it’s pretty funny how he pretends not to be interested in the sort of dress and jewelry you and the girls are deciding on. You know he’s trying very hard not to make a suggestion, and just to be a little mean, you made sure he was within earshot when you mentioned the matter of corsets and fancy undergarments to the girls.

Once at the party, Dutch plays at being some rich banker and you’re his young foreign wife. It’s absurdly easy to pull off, even with your terrible accent, and after each conversation you both are trying not to laugh. He’s definitely liking being able to have an arm around your waist and being able to lean in and whisper to you, but he won’t push his boundaries, especially if you’re already uncomfortable being all dressed up and powdered. While you two are dancing, he’ll whisper in that deep voice, praising you for how perfect you’ve been, or reassuring you that it’ll be over soon. When the shooting started, Dutch pulled you to a safe place you could lie low in, but if you bothered him enough he’d hand you a gun and let you join the shootout.

Back at camp, Dutch’s flirting hasn’t dulled in the slightest. He’ll sit close to you as everyone else celebrates, mentioning how wonderful you were and if you need help slipping out of anything. If you let him, he’ll help unlace those fancy boots, even massage your poor ankles and calves since you aren’t used to wearing tall shoes. Isn’t that thoughtful?

HOSEA MATTHEWS

Nearly all of this con was his idea, and you’re glad to help run it. Hosea is playing the part of some eccentric philanthropist and you’re a grand-niece or some relative. The two of you talk so smooth and fast, easily working off each other, that the hosts of the party don’t stand a chance. Hosea wants to avoid any sort of violence, but knowing the gang, who knows what will happen, so he wants you to stay close to him. During lulls in conversation, when you and Hosea are just observing the crowd and deciding who to speak with next, he’ll lean in and whisper something to you. It makes goosebumps break out on your skin, you can feel how warm he is and sometimes he’ll run a hand up your back as he compliments you on what a natural you are, or reassures you that it’ll be over soon. He’ll truly feel bad if you hate having to dress up and pretend like this; so he’s grateful you agreed to come along and help. If you’re thriving off the party and the trickery, he’ll give you knowing grins and winks that make him seem fifteen years younger. There’s a surprising amount of mischief in him.

When the inevitable fight breaks out (he totally called it), Hosea swiftly gets you to a safe part of the house he noticed earlier. From there you two snatch several stashes of jewels and cash and stealthily make your way out. Hosea had to be convinced to steal as much as you both did; he was terribly worried about you, since the dress would be difficult to run in. When you’re back at camp, Hosea isn’t shy about telling you what a great job you did, and how proud he is. He’ll give a kiss to your cheek and he’s very smooth about offering to remove anything that’s giving you trouble.

SADIE ADLER

Thank god she’s not the one in the fucking gown, that’s all she has to say. Well, that, and the jokes and snark she throws your way while you’re getting ready. If you hate the dress just as much, too bad, you were roped into the plan and Sadie is having lots of playful teasing at your expense. If you adore it and start modeling it for her, she won’t admit how cute you’re being… but she will consider wearing a tuxedo and being some “hoity toity” man just to make sure you’re safe. She doesn’t trust the “gentleman” at this party at all, and the closer you both get to the manor, the more antsy she becomes. All her previous humor is gone as she urges you to find her right away if trouble happens. Sadie is absolutely going to bring your favorite gun along and was trying to figure out a way to strap a revolver to your leg until Hosea pulled you away. You promise you’ll be alright, but she doesn’t look reassured.

The expected fight breaks out, and like you promised, you beeline for Sadie. She’s already on you - how the hell did she get into the manor so fast? - and she’s tossed your gun in your hands. Soon enough you both are blasting your way out of the manor. She gets impatient when you fall for the second time and rips the dress herself so you can run easier. It was your horse she brought around to escape, and Sadie hoisted you up, sat herself in the back and kept shooting while you rode to safety. It was… a hectic and messy escape, but neither of you had a scratch. Once you’re at the camp, she doesn’t feel bad for ripping the dress, even if you liked it. It was necessary, and besides, you can’t keep the frilly thing! Okay, she’ll apologize if you pout. If you hated it she’s more than happy to help you burn it.

MICAH BELL

How the hell is he supposed to respond to this? It would be one thing if you caked on make-up like a tart and strapped yourself into some circus tent-looking contraption, he could work with that. His brain just stops functioning for a few seconds when the girls finally unveil the work they did on you. If you hated the dress and it wasn’t something you’d wear unless a gun was pointed to your head, then Micah certainly had choice words to say, teasing and mocking the difference between this and your regular attire… except they were much weaker insults than he usually had. You were too distracted and uncomfortable to even care. If you adored all of it, practically buzzing with excitement as you turned and twirled for everyone, he might even try an attempt at a compliment, although it’d come out all jumbled and flustered. He decides to stay away and just watch you from a distance, both enjoying the view and trying to figure out this stupid knot in his stomach.

At least you two are apart during the party, so he doesn’t have to look at you enjoying yourself and swaying around in that dress. When the fight starts, he can finally have something else to put his mind to … until he sees you get caught in the crossfire. Micah would throw you a gun he pulled off someone, barking at you to follow him. Dutch told him to get you to safety, which he initially bristled at, but then he dutifully put you up on Baylock. He told you to keep shooting while he rode off - and he still got plenty of shots in himself. Once you were back at camp, he wouldn't apologize for dirtying the dress. It had to be done, and now the job is done, so you can get out of it…. and he would absolutely offer to cut it off with his knife. The whole thing, corset and all. He's gonna fantasize about it well after the fact, too.

CHARLES SMITH

If you love getting a chance to dress up and wear jewels, Charles can tell, and he finds your joy just adorable. If you dislike the idea of having to dress up for a stupid party, even if it’s a robbery, he’s very encouraging and reassures you as many times as you need. This kind of con isn’t really his scene, but he knows you’ll do well and he promises to look after you during the whole thing. He’ll even have you ride along with him on Taima if that'll settle your nerves. Once you arrive, Charles helps you down like a gentleman. If you’re still uneasy, he asks you to wait a moment and then comes back with a rose he picked from the garden. He places it neatly in your tied back hair. “Perfect. Don’t worry, you’ll do great, and when things go south, I’ll be there. Promise.”

Once the fight breaks out, Charles is true to his word and helps you escape in the chaos. You have no idea where he came from, but you didn’t refuse the help, or the gun he offered you - at some point he’d packed your favorite one - and you’re pulled up on Taima as gunshots go off all around you. Charles put you on the front of his horse to protect you better, even if it’s harder to shoot from there. It sort of makes you feel like a princess being swept away. When you two return to the camp, he tidies the rose in your hair and offers to help remove the restrictive dress or massage your legs if they hurt … casually, of course. Probably.

BILL WILLIAMSON

When the girls finally unveiled their handiwork, he thought his heart was stopping. You were so pretty - well, you normally were, but now more than ever. You looked like one of those porcelain dolls they put in music boxes. Bill didn’t even want to touch you or stand too close, worried he’d dirty you somehow. He couldn’t believe you wanted him to play the role of the bodyguard that would follow you around the party.... Though he played the part well, his silence combined with his big build made him seem intimidating. If you were clearly miserable in the dress and with the company, he wasn’t sure what to say to make you feel better, so he stayed quiet. If you were loving the dress and just thriving in the party, fooling everyone into thinking you were some high-class belle … Well, he was too distracted watching you, still not able to say much.

Eventually he had to split off from you to join the men, which he didn’t appreciate, but he made a point to bring your gun along with his. When the expected gunfight broke out, Bill beelined for you, practically tossing a man that was too close and handed over your gun. He didn’t expect you to be so grateful, it made him blush in spite of the gunshots going off all around you two.

The fight was more dangerous than expected, so Bill hoisted you up on Brown Jack without warning and raced off. Your dress ended up getting ripped from his haste, and if you really liked it, he feels bad for screwing it up. It’s easy to turn around his mood by complimenting what a good “bodyguard” he was. Just don’t flirt too much, he’s already had a mess of feelings today.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

He was trying to hide his excitement when he found out you were going to be dressing up and joining the others on this con. You’re already an angel, now he’s going to see you dressed in a beautiful gown and decorated with jewels? It fit so perfectly, too, like it was made for you. Javier wouldn’t hide his approval of the outfit, even giving you some suggestions on more comfortable shoes or a better hat. Mary-Beth thought it was adorable and left him to help you out - that made it much harder for him to hide how pleased he was with your outfit. If you truly hated it, he’d understand and would try to reassure you that not only did it look wonderful, you were going to pull the job off perfectly. His warm hands would sit on your shoulders as he said this, hoping you trusted in him. If you’re the sort who loves dressing up and conning, he shares your happiness and will even dance with you a little before you have to leave, relishing in your giggles.

While the party went off well, with you playing your part perfectly, chaos inevitably broke out. You have no idea where Javier came from, but you were damn grateful that he’d seen you and pulled you into a safe corner. Together you both snuck into the manor, stole as much jewelry as you could carry and easily slipped out the back, gunshots still echoing through the place. Javier grinned as he draped all the stolen necklaces and bracelets on you, asking you to keep them safe for now. You clasped your arms tightly around his torso when you rode away with him, resting your head against his back whenever you got tired.

SEAN MACGUIRE

He all but jumps out of his seat with delight when he spots you. Mary-Beth is still fussing with your hair, but the corset under your dress has already done all sorts of magic, and the dress itself hugged you like you were meant to wear it. Of course he can’t resist from fawning all over you. He wants to pick you up and twirl you like a princess, but Miss Gaskill scolds him for dirtying the dress and he gets dragged away by the men. For once Sean was wishing he was away from the action and complained enough that they let him accompany you on the carriage - that is, as the driver. Sean didn’t even notice if you were extremely uncomfortable, he was too busy gabbing about the party and saying what a natural you’d be. When you finally have to leave, he takes your hand and gives you a warm smile. “You’ll do great. I know it.” He didn’t realize how comforting it was.

Once trouble began, you were impressed how quickly Sean scrambled to your side, and with your gun no less. Before you could question how he did it, he was gleefully shooting and directing you away from the fight. As much as Sean wanted to stay and end it, he was far more concerned with your safety, you noticed. He swung you up on his horse with little grace, and even if your dress was ruined with blood and mud and your hat went flying off, you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his torso and listened to the wild man whoop and shoot through the escape. Sean would absolutely be the type to help you off the horse and insist on carrying you around camp, bragging about his “rescue” the whole time.

LENNY SUMMERS

God damn it, he already thought you were cute! Now you’re gorgeous and he’s way too bashful to say anything about it for a while. He’s thankful for the girls fussing over you and the boys dragging him off to discuss the plan, because being around you is too distracting and makes his thoughts short-circuit a bit. He’s normally fine with talking to you! And it’s just a dress, so what’s different? If you really loved the outfit, you’d be a natural in it, and Lenny would find your enthusiasm and confidence very attractive. If you clearly hated it, he’d want to comfort you somehow, but would worry about coming off wrong. It’s a shame you didn’t like the outfit, because you looked fantastic in it. Before he had to leave with the boys, he’d pay you a compliment. “You’re gonna do real well, miss. Um, you … you really fit the role.”

He has a good sense of when things will go south, and when Lenny felt the tension in the air, he made a point to find you in the crowd. Ones the bullets started flying, he found you before you even made sense of the situation. Lenny would rather get you to safety right away, but if you want a gun, he ain’t denying you. All his previous nervousness would be gone as you both would shoot up the place, then find a horse to escape on. Lenny wouldn’t feel that shyness again until you both got back to camp, when he had to help you off the horse. He’ll immediately start joking about your dirty dress and praising your gun skills to keep his beating heart in line. Lenny feels much better when you’re back in your old clothes.

KIERAN DUFFY

He was embarrassed enough watching the girls parade you around, pleased with their work, and they had every right to be - you looked even more beautiful than the women in the magazines. It’s like you walked right out of them. He felt bad if you were forced into the role, knowing you probably hated the whole get-up, but if you absolutely enjoyed it, he was enchanted by how you seemed to beam with happiness. He’d only seen you like that a few other times, and he was pleased to commit it to memory. When you’re getting ready to leave, he can’t help but give you words of encouragement. He can’t imagine you’ll do anything but shine at the party.

Kieran was tasked with staying behind at the camp, as he expected, but at least he was trusted to hold a gun and stay on watch duty. His thoughts often drifted to you, wondering if you were doing well and if you were sick of the party or having the time of your life. When he heard powerful hoofbeats, he snapped at attention, readying the gun and calling out... only to recognize your horse and your silhouette. Your dress was a torn mess, but it was still restrictive, so Kieran wasted little time in helping you down. “Miss, are you alright? You aren’t - is that your blood or someone else’s? Alright, good. C’mon, sit down here.”

You told him about what happened at the party, how things got out of control and you had to flee in a hurry. The boys were likely splitting up to shake the law off them. Kieran was so relieved you were alright, his heart was hammering but outwardly he was calm as he helped tie your sprained ankle and get you some water. He wasn’t his nervous self at all, tending to you and asking questions with confidence ... until you pointed out you needed help getting out of the corset and dress.

TILLY JACKSON

Tilly was initially in charge of “acquiring” the jewelry and accessories you’d wear, but she ended up shooing the other girls away when they kept suggesting ridiculous hair and make-up ideas. She didn’t care what lady’s magazine Karen read, Tilly wasn’t about to turn you into a side-show act. She was always helping you with this or that, you both relied on each other. She always knew how to reassure you, taking your face in her hands as she spoke softly. “Listen, it’s nothin’ you ain’t done before, just wearin’ somethin’ fancy now. And those boys will do their job right and keep you safe, I’ll make damn sure of that.”

If you hate this sort of thing - dressing up and conning others - Tilly would’ve tried to help you get a different role, but ultimately, you had to do it. She’d give you a softer version of her usual tough love. If you loved it, Tilly would be the one teasing you to get your head out of the clouds. Either way, when you were distracted, she’d threaten the hell out of the boys to keep you safe. Even Arthur would get an earful; if you so much as came back with a scratch, she’d have their hides. If you came back a muddy, bloody mess because you couldn’t resist joining in the gunfights, Tilly would have your hide, too. If you came back mostly clean because you avoided the fight, she’d just laugh and tease you for being so “fussy” - but she was relieved you came straight to camp. The dress and jewels are all sold afterward, but Tilly keeps some bits of fabric to sew you both something.

MARY-BETH GASKILL

You have a feeling she’s enjoying this ... a lot. While the both of you were cool as you acquired the dress and jewels to go with it, as soon as you were back at camp, Mary-Beth was giggling and going on about how to do your hair. Soon enough you were dragged off to a tent for privacy and she dressed you up, cooing over your figure in the dress and how nice you looked. She didn’t even notice how flustered you were getting - of course if you enjoyed dressing up, you could share in her enthusiasm and get her advice on how to style it. If you hated it ... Mary-Beth reassured you it looked wonderful, “just like a princess!” Well, that didn’t help, but her obvious swooning was pretty cute. Mary-Beth ended up coming along with the job, dressed up herself and playing the part of your “companion”, since all high-society ladies were about that. You’re pretty sure companions weren’t supposed to be as red-faced or affectionate as she was around their ladies, but you weren’t complaining.

At the party you two were naturals, and what little screw-ups were quickly covered up. If Mary-Beth didn’t know something, you did, and vice-versa. You two were actually quite a team, and you noticed Hosea winking at you in approval from across the room. When trouble was starting, you pulled Mary-Beth aside and you both hastily dug through the manor’s drawers and silver cabinets while the gunshots went off outside. If you needed to defend her, you would, but luckily it didn’t come to that. You were able to steal a horse from their stable and go riding off, Mary-Beth holding tightly and urging you to go faster. You both couldn’t resist keeping two matching bracelets from the robbery.

KAREN JONES

Karen may not be interested in passing as one of those hoity toity girls, but she’s absolutely gonna help dress you up as one. She’s laughing the whole time, throwing out suggestions and distracting the hell out of Tilly and Mary-Beth as they work. Karen was the one who found the dress, and you’re surprised at how well it flatters you and how the color suits you so well. “Didn’t I say I know how to pick ‘em? Now tighten up those laces! Society ladies don’t have fun!” Karen is quite pushy regardless if you want to do the job or not - if you don’t, she’ll all but drag you to the carriage the boys brought and force you in. It’s a hell of a chance to get a lot of money, and she doesn’t want you missing it. If you love it, that’s all the better! She teases you plenty either way while you’re trying to dress, and gives you a big kiss before you have to set out, not caring who sees. You were long gone by the time she turned on the boys and all but threatened them to bring you back safely.

The party was lonely without Karen, you wished she had been part of the plan so you both could talk together instead of mingling with these insufferable people. Sure, she may have been a little too loud and unladylike... but it would’ve been far more fun. You escaped on cue, making a point to steal a gorgeous stallion as you left the manor behind, listening to gunshots ring out through the night. The boys (and Sadie) were doing their part, so it was time to go home. You had not expected Karen to come riding on your horse with a gun. “Damn it, you were takin’ too long! I got worried...”

She tried to hide how worried she actually was on the way back. She helped you out of the infernal buttons, lacing and corset, and gladly snuggled your aching body. By the time the boys returned to camp, you both had fallen asleep in your tent.

FLACO HERNANDEZ

You’d mentioned the plan in passing to Flaco, and he was so worried for your safety he came all the way down from that forsaken mountain to make sure it went off well. He didn’t hide that he disliked you working with “that little gang” when you could just stay with him, but that was for another time. While everyone ran around preparing for the con, he watched with great amusement as you were primped and stuffed into a corset and ballgown, whistling at you and making plenty of jokes. You weren’t going to live this down, ever. Once your outfit and hair was mostly finished, Flaco patted his lap and you sat obediently until it was time to go. Even if you hated the dress, Flaco thinks you look beautiful and will tell you so, kissing your cheek and muttering all sorts of sweet things to distract your nerves. He really doesn’t care about showing you off, if anything, he’s amused by your friends trying to look away.

It was hard not to think of him as the party progressed. You played the role well enough, but soon you were itching to get back to camp. Who knew how long he would stay around before going back to that cold place? The expected gunfight broke you out of your thoughts, and as you made your escape ... you suddenly felt a pair of familiar, fuzzy arms wrapping around you. “I’ve got you now, princesa. Why don’t you come back with Flaco?”

He was able to get you back, but not to your gang’s camp. Flaco had set up his own spot, making a point to bring your horse and your things... the only way the gang knew you were alright is he left word with Miss Grimshaw (after she gave him a thorough ‘questioning’ about his relationship with you). You better believe he’d help you out of that fancy ensemble, but if you really loved it he’d urge you to dance and spin around for him. It’s a rare day when he sees you wearing something other than four layers, after all.

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #micah bell x reader #sadie adler x reader #hosea matthews x reader #charles smith x reader #bill williamson x #javier escuella x reader #sean macguire x reader #lenny summers x reader #kieran duffy x reader #tilly jackson x reader #mary-beth gaskill x reader #karen jones x reader #flaco hernandez x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 preferences #omg i love this prompt but i took forevveerrr es tut mir leid

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vaguely-concerned · 5 months

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Happy Grace/Pan Vibes For The Soul

"How can I, with you in the way?"/"(Laughs) The floor is yours!"

First of all I'm honestly just so charmed by how genuinely delighted Pan seems to be at watching Grace finding her voice and learning to enjoy using her power, I think that's where I started to take a shine to him. (also seems quite central to his character/romance in general because it's a thing that recurs through their relationship -- he tells her "I'm enjoying it if you're enjoying it" straight out at one point and that's definitely always there in the subtext). He buys a music studio for her just in case she ever wants to return to making music again even when she's not the muse anymore just because he loves her singing and has seen it make her happy before, how is that not the sweetest goddamn thing in the world??? Pan and Oracle in shared first place as stans for Grace musically

For real though, 'I Can Teach You' is sooo... even when you don't join forces with him Pan teaches Grace so many things in that song, it's a thematic tutorial as well as a gameplay one in many ways. For me I think the most impactful subtexts are 'This is a tricky situation, change is here and it's difficult, but you have more control and agency here than you think' ("You're in control!" "It's your song!"), and this sense that, y'know... there can be joy and playfulness and discovery in setting out into the unknown, not just fear and uncertainty.

dude... I wanna be in cahoots with & sing playful duets with you for the rest of my life bro (amorous intent)

Pros: Hell yeah look at her go! 🥰

Cons: Uh-oh look at her go! 😬

I love that Grace can bring Pan's motif into 'Challenging A Queen' and be called the fuck out by Persephone btw. why u keepin' your guard up girl uwu

'you gave up the only thing worth having -- for your little mortal friend' he says, giving up everything for his little once-again-mortal friend literally the next day fhsdkjfhsad who are you fooling buddy? not even yourself at this point surely??? (dialogue for if you save Freddie by giving up the eidolon)

my observations on the grace/pan dynamic across the different personality traits (yes I've done a run of each romancing him I am normal about it):

Clever!Grace: Pan seems to set out to be a trickster mentor of sorts, and Clever!Grace flips the uno reverse card on him and goes ‘Not if I trickster mentor you first bitch be honest about your feelings or perish challenge engage’. Probably the most birds of a feather combination (and indeed it’s the Blue version of the soundtrack that shows off his romance — also his tie and glasses are on the cover for that one :) ).

Charming!Grace: Performative puppy dog eyes-off whenever either of them wants to get their way. 🥺4🥺. Pan is provably a soft touch from the Charming option to find Persephone before Challenging A Queen so I feel he probably tends to buckle faster but it’s a close thing. Local trickster god completely disarmed by someone being nice to him.

Kickass!Grace: “Be real with me or Imma kick your ass”/”Promise? ;)”/"...>:)"

I am always thinking about the way he steps up in The Trial when romanced (and the way it's the only one where Athena is genuinely shocked and appalled fhskadj). there is something about him that's like... he keeps protesting against 'innocent' and he's probably right haha, but there is certainly an almost fundamental lack of any active malice there that he doesn't fully admit to himself or to grace until this moment. he is doing this for grace, but it is also a confession about something really deep in himself that seems to be very vulnerable for him in its sincerity -- that he really doesn't mean to or more importantly want to cause harm (I don't wanna dance/with blood on my hands). admitting to his own basically good heart finally seems to be the bigger, scarier thing for him, more than facing the prospect of dying. he's experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known and I for one am so proud of him

"I'm just here for the dance"

the way he sings that just to her and completely changes the meaning of it from what he said with it before, from using it to keep her out to inviting her in...

also can you imagine how badly the kill bill sirens must be going off in Grace's head in all variations of this scene no matter who steps up, considering what happened to Freddie just days before....... oof!

*incensed whisper* are you fucking kidding me with this what am I supposed to do with myself here

love these too

I really like the visual repeats of crossing the pond to the tree and back as a metaphor for them getting closer (or rather, him letting her closer, it is very much His Space). he retreats back there towards the end of 'Share This Dance', and that's the point where Grace puts her foot down and essentially says 'no. you come meet me honestly in the middle this time or this isn't happening'. and in 'The Trial' he does and then some!

I meant what I sang. I'm not a good man. If Athena had taken me up on my offer, the Idols would have been better off But I can try to be better. You make me want to try.

fun fact: if you break up with him after The Trial (YEAH you can still break off the romances at that point! it's wild honestly fsjadk), Grace tells him he should try to be better ‘for himself’ not for her... and he calls that (i.e. himself) ‘not much of an incentive’. My guy don’t make me break out the ‘Have you tried therapy’ prompt again. He takes it very calmly and gracefully under the circumstances but he's also like. quietly resigned and subdued. I tried it once for Science and never will again but there you go I bring my knowledge to this altar of sadness lol

you see the thing is I would forgive him for just about anything too I understand why so many of the characters in-game can't stay mad at him for any length of time

he starts the game by asking her to take his hand and he ends it on asking her to take his hand (and she does)...

:') let's share this dance

#stray gods #stray gods pan #stray gods grace #grace x pan #better late than never! I said I would make this post and by god I meant it I love these two with all my soul #stray gods meta

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cherienymphe · 4 years

Text

Unrequited (Thor x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity, side of Loki x reader, reader has it bad for Loki

➥ {page breaks done by @firefly-graphics }

summary: you, a servant, are in love with Loki, your prince. He’s never noticed, and while that’s unfortunate for you, it is much to Thor’s delight because he has noticed. And he can’t stand it.

You stood along the wall with the rest of the servants, waiting as patiently as ever. The other girls beside you had been fidgeting for a while, Ingrid huffing for the fifth time in minutes, and you supposed that you couldn’t blame them. The feast had commenced hours ago, and it seemed as if an end was nowhere in sight. You, however, were more than happy to wait.

A familiar hand lifted into the air, long fingers snapping to beckon you over. Without hesitation, you answered the dark-haired prince’s call, feet hurrying to take you to him. You knew what he wanted as soon as he lifted his goblet, and you were extra careful in pouring him more wine. You’d hate to spill any on him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he absentmindedly said, the words falling so easily from his lips.

You’d heard them probably a thousand times, and just like before, you always asked:

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my prince?”

And just like always, he said:

“No, that will be all.”

You kept your smile in place as he waved you away, heart sinking as you turned to join the rest of the servants on the wall. Your fingers scraped along the pitcher in your hands, and you let your eyes fall to the ground as a particularly loud laugh climbed out of the king’s throat. You cringed at the grating noise, lip trembling as you forced your beating heart to still.

Your eyes finally rose again, landing on the prince, and your heart clenched in your chest. His dark hair shone as it brushed along his broad shoulders, long fingers dancing along the rim of his goblet. He stood out amongst the rest of the rowdy guests, his quiet disposition a stark contrast in the rowdy room. He was always quiet though.

That’s what you loved about him.

Prince Loki didn’t care to be the center of attention…just like you. He spent his time reading and writing. Occasionally, you’d walked in on him drawing a sketch or two. On most days, he was subdued, preferring to observe those around him. You noticed that he took his time when talking with people, seeming to really mull over his responses before voicing them. He was such a breath of fresh air from-.

Your thoughts were cut short by that laugh again, and you winced. King Thor bellowed, completely tickled by something Hogun had whispered to him. You straightened and glanced away from him with a small sigh.

You had no ill feelings towards the king…none of consequence anyway. Everything about him just seemed to overwhelm you. He was too loud or too big or too abrasive. He was just too much. For as long as you’d known him, he was loud and demanding and a bit spoiled. Not to mention impulsive. He and Loki were so different that you often found yourself wondering how the two could even be related.

Fortunately for you, it seemed that Loki had finally grown tired of the antics, waving you along as he stood. You set the pitcher down and rushed to follow him, trailing behind him like a pet would. Sometimes you thought that you should feel embarrassed at how completely devoted to him you were, but you couldn’t find it in yourself too.

The prince was beautiful, and not just because he was a god, but because he was Loki. His green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and his pink lips had never once formed to say anything to hurt you, the opposite in fact. His voice could soothe even the crankiest of children. Prince Loki had never been anything but kind to you, even allowing you to borrow his books.

You were irrevocably in love with him.

You knew it was silly. He was a prince, a god, the highest caliber of royalty there was, and you… You were a servant. He would never look at you the way you looked at him, but you knew that his brother had a reputation for pulling servants into his chambers through all hours of the night. Heat settled into the pit of your stomach as you thought of Loki doing the same to you.

It became clear early on though that he was not like that. At first, you thought that it had just been you, and disappointment and sorrow had eaten away at you for weeks, but you soon realized that no one was warming his bed. You hoped that one day that would change. Even if that was all the prince wanted from you, you’d happily give it to him.

You’d do anything to please him.

“Draw me a bath,” he tiredly murmured just as you closed his chamber door behind you.

“Of course.”

You breezed past him, and through his bedroom, making your way into the bath. Loki didn’t like his bath water too hot, and you waded your hand through it many times to make sure it was just right. You added some soaps to it, grabbing the bowl of flower petals you’d placed beside the tub this morning. You were seated on it, tossing them across the water just as he made his way inside. You set it down, hurrying to help him undress.

“Thor was more energetic than usual tonight,” he said, sighing as he eased into the warm water. “How do you always manage to get it perfect?”

That last part was said so softly that you wondered if you’d imagined it, and you knew that it must have been said more to himself, not meant for you. You smiled anyway.

“Did you enjoy yourself, my prince?” you genuinely wondered, resting your arms and chin on the large bath.

His head was leaned back, eyes closed as he soaked. A small smirk danced along his lips, and you eyed it.

“As well as to be expected, I suppose. I’ll never understand why Thor demands my attendance to such trivial gatherings. Nothing more than a self-congratulatory circle jerk,” he sneered.

You swallowed a laugh at his crude language.

“Pardon my wording,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. Would you like for me to wash your hair?”

You were already moving as you asked the question, but his soft ‘please’ warmed your heart. Your fingers were gentle in combing through his locks, massaging his scalp. A low moan rumbled deep in his throat, and you ran your eyes over him as he relaxed under your ministrations.

When you were done, you cupped some water in your hands a few times before letting it run over his hair. You swallowed when he began to rise, and as much as you didn’t want to, you looked away.

“I’ll go turn back your bed,” you told him as you turned around to give him some privacy.

As you pulled his sheets and covers back, you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers over the cool material. You wondered how comfortable they were, how cool they’d feel against your skin. How cool they would feel while the prince had his way with you…

You snatched your hand back like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. You swallowed down your wanton thoughts as Loki exited, fully dressed for bed.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my prince?”

Your voice was soft as you asked the same question you did every night, hoping against hope that he’d finally say what you wanted to hear. That he’d ask you to stay, ask you to share his bed, ask you to please him…

He threw you a smile, so small it was barely there, but you knew him so well that you could easily spot the subtle change in expression.

“That will be all. You’re dismissed,” he told you.

With a shaky nod, you turned and left. The minute you were in the corridor, you pressed your back to his chamber door, tears in your eyes. The desire that coursed through you should have terrified you, but it only fueled the hope in your heart. You had to hope that he at least desired you half as much as you did him.

When you finally got your legs to move down the hall, you passed the king’s wing. A feminine giggle echoed down the hall, and you turned your head just in time to see his chamber doors slamming shut, the tail end of a flowy dress nearly getting caught.

You blinked, lips parting as your shoulders sagged.

Your fingers ghosted over the beauty products before you, brows furrowed in confusion. You knew that it was wrong of you to sneak into Ingrid’s room, but you were desperate. You only wanted to borrow a few things that she wouldn’t even notice were gone. She had so much.

You bit your lip, wondering if this was even the right thing to do. What if he laughed at you, thinking you silly for this? What if he didn’t take you seriously after this? What if he thought less of you? What if you were only making a fool of yourself? With a sigh, you dropped Ingrid’s rouge just as her door opened.

There was a frown on her striking features as soon as her eyes landed on you. It was late in the night, and her hair was perfectly mussed, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. You had suspicions that she was the one you saw going into the king’s chamber earlier.

“Never pegged you for a thief, Y/N,” she chuckled, closing her door.

“I wasn’t stealing…only borrowing,” you replied unconvincingly.

“Uh huh,” she brushed you off, nearing you to see what you had.

She took it and turned it over, a small smirk gracing her lips.

“…and…just who are you trying to get all prettied up for?”

Your mouth opened and closed, words failing you as you pondered over whether or not you should tell her the truth. Deep down, maybe a part of you wanted to get caught. Maybe you wanted to ask for her help? You doubted that she’d help you without the truth though.

“Don’t tell me… You’re trying to gain the king’s favor…?”

Her voice was colder, eyes hardening as yours widened.

“The-the king?” you exclaimed, eyebrows rising.

She scoffed, running her eyes over you.

“I already have to fight for his attention with just about every other woman in this kingdom. I’d hate to have to put you in your place because you got way in over your head-.”

“No, no, heavens no,” you said, frowning in disgust. “I am not trying to seduce the king.”

The thought made your stomach turn. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes on you as you slowly rose to your feet.

“Well, then who? Because a girl like you doesn’t go rifling through other people’s things just to seduce no one,” she argued.

“Well, trust me, it is not king Thor. He’s all yours. He’s not exactly my taste…”

Her frown deepened.

“Who is?”

A soft sigh escaped you, and again, you wondered if you should be truthful or not. Ingrid would probably press you for details, and you weren’t ready to embarrass yourself further by admitting you were hopelessly in love with prince Loki. Your eyes reluctantly met hers again, and her face evened out as her eyes lit up.

“The prince,” she whispered, a genuine smile on her face, a light scoff escaping her. “I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet… I am. You were right. The king isn’t your taste.”

You swallowed.

“Can you…help me?”

“You sweet summer child,” she tsk’d. “You do understand that while the prince is definitely no Thor, he is still a man. There’s a very high chance that he’ll only want one thing from you.”

You rubbed your arm, gently shaking your head.

“I don’t care,” you whispered. “I just…want him.”

She let out a long exhale, eyes softening as she eyed you.

“I see. How…cute, but I’ll help you.”

She grabbed your arm, pulling you along.

“You wait on him hand and foot. I always thought you were just being a dutiful servant, maybe even a bit of a pushover, but now it all makes sense.”

“You don’t have to tell me how silly I am,” you mumbled.

“I’m not,” she chuckled, placing a finger under your chin, lifting your head. “I’m commending you.”

You were sure the confusion was clear on your face.

“The prince has seen how wonderful a servant you are. I’m willing to bet that he has never had one complaint about you. He thinks you’re perfect, and now you will show him that you have even more to offer.”

Her smile grew, and so did your nerves.

The night was spent with Ingrid teaching you everything she knew. How to walk, how to smile, how to speak. You hadn’t realized that seducing required so much work, and you suddenly realized that it was going to take more than you thought to get what you wanted.

When morning came, she helped you dress, whispering words of encouragement to you. She assured you that you could do this, could have him right where you had wanted him for years, and with her guidance, you left to go down to the kitchens to gather his breakfast.

You breezed into the prince’s chambers like you did every morning. You walked through his receiving room and laid out his breakfast before making your way to the large windows on the far-left side of his room. You pulled the drapes aside, letting the sunlight in just as a groan sounded from behind you.

“Is it morning already?”

His voice was always husky in the morning, deep and groggy from sleep.

“Yes, my prince. Do not forget that the king requested you join him this morning for a meeting regarding the-.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” he sighed. “Heaven forbid Thor tend to his duties as a king should without me by his side to guide him.”

When finished, you turned to help him out of bed. All of his movements halted as you neared, and you avoided his eye as you went to turn the cover back. You could feel his eyes on you, and your body grew warm under his scrutiny.

Ingrid had lent you one of her dresses. It was the typical cream garment that all of the servants donned, but the neckline sat lower, showing off a tasteful eyeful of cleavage. Where your regular dress had loosely flowed around you like water, this one hugged you, accentuating your curves.

You were startled when Loki’s hand found your wrist, stopping you. You finally looked at him, brows furrowed ever so slightly as he stared at you, a small frown on his own face. Your arm trembled at the feel of his hand on you, and he noticed, quickly letting you go. Much to your disappointment…

“Thank you, Y/N, but I can take it from here,” he quietly told you.

You nodded, backing away.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

For the first time, his reply did not come quickly. There was a brief pause, hesitation that had never been there before, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. He cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“…no.”

Your heart sank, and you nodded, turning away.

As usual, the king was the last to arrive, everyone else having long taken their seats. Loki had been one of the first to arrive, and you had happily served him water while he waited. Thor strolled into the hall like there wasn’t a care in the world, taking his time in sliding into his seat before beckoning one of the servants over.

Your eyes did what they do best and fell on the prince. Other than his perusal this morning, nothing had changed. For a moment there, you had thought that he finally saw you as you saw him, but whatever you thought you saw was gone just as quick as it had come.

Did he hate the look of the dress? Your face? You had applied rouge to your cheeks and lips, keeping your hair simple. Ingrid had assured you that you looked ‘good enough to eat’, and yet… Your shoulders sagged as a stifling sadness fell over you.

What if it wasn’t a matter of getting him to notice you? What if he already did and simply…did not feel the same way? The thought of Loki never returning your affections because you did not appeal to him made your heart hurt, and you blinked back tears just as the prince beckoned you over for more water.

As you refilled his glass, you felt the odd sensation of being watched. Against your better judgement, you glanced over only for your gaze to connect with that of the king’s. You quickly looked away, topping off Loki’s drink just as the blond spoke.

“Brother, you do not think to introduce your servant to her king?”

You frowned in confusion, and so did the prince as you both looked to Thor. His blue eyes were on you still as a secretive smile graced his lips. You tilted your head at him.

“As many years as Y/N has served me now, you’ve never thought to formally introduce yourself,” Loki told him, frown deepening.

A spark of recognition flitted through the king’s eyes as he gazed at you, and a chuckle left him.

“That would explain why she’s looking as if I’d asked her why the sky is green,” he jested.

As he pointed that out, you worked to even out your face. You nodded at him before dismissively turning to Loki.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes. Stay close though. I have a feeling Thor will drag this meeting far beyond what’s necessary,” he complained.

You nodded at him, eyes lingering as you hovered for a moment before your feet reluctantly moved you back to the wall. Loki offered his input throughout the meeting, but it seemed that the king never liked whatever the prince had to say. You could see him growing more taut by the minute, and you longed to place your hands on his shoulders, easing his tension.

You wondered if this was all you’d ever be to him. A servant. The possibility of that seemed to be growing by the minute, and you started to feel so silly for thinking you could ever be anything more. You considered being bolder, possibly even just confessing to him, but you didn’t want to think about the humiliation if he rejected you.

Or worse.

What if he was so affronted that he dismissed you for good? You couldn’t truly imagine such a thing happening, but your mind was running wild with the possibilities. When you came back to the scene before you, Loki was rising, voice clipped.

He was angry, you realized, and you frowned. You took a small step forward as you eyed him, hating the way his face was twisted. He seemed to be scolding his brother, and when you looked to the king, you found his blue gaze already on you. Your frown deepened, and you hurriedly looked away just as Loki pulled away from the table, waving you along.

Without a second glance to the king, you hurried to follow him. He was grumbling to himself when you caught up to him, running a hand through his hair.

“What is my purpose of being there if he isn’t going to listen to a word I say?” he wondered.

“My prince, you know that your brother has always done what he wants to do,” you softly told him.

He slowed to a stop, shoulders heaving as he sighed. You reached for him before thinking better of it, pulling your hand back.

“You are right, but it does not mean I have to like it.”

You hated to see him so bothered, and you stepped closer.

“Would you like something to eat from the…?”

You swallowed the rest of your words as heavy footsteps approached, and you both turned to watch as the king neared. You took a few steps back to stand behind the prince, quietly acknowledging Thor. Your eyes landed on Loki again as his frown deepened at the sight of his brother.

“Loki, the meeting was far from over, and there is still much for us to discuss,” Thor boomed, a frown of his own covering his features.

The dark-haired man heaved a sigh.

“I’d hardly call it a discussion, brother if you aren’t actually listening to a word I say,” he complained.

Thor opened his mouth to say something when his eyes caught yours. He appeared to think better of it, blue eyes quickly running over you just as Loki turned to look at you as well. You frowned at the king’s perusal.

“Fetch something from the kitchens for us, and then bring it to my chambers,” he softly ordered, rolling his eyes.

You bit back a smile at his evident irritation with the king before nodding.

“Right away, my prince.”

As you walked past the king, you felt something catch along the fabric of your dress. You turned with a slight frown, but both the king and the prince were already walking away. You blinked, writing it off as you made your way to the kitchens.

It took you no time to put a platter together, grabbing some ale. When you returned to the prince’s chambers, he and Thor appeared to be locked in a stalemate. You set the tray down between them, filling their goblets as they glared at each other. You felt a bit awkward, so you touched Loki’s shoulder.

“My prince…”

He blinked, finally looking away from Thor before reaching for the platter with an angry huff.

“Thank you, Lady Y/N,” Thor said.

You sent him a quick smile in return, barely sparing him a glance before turning your attention back to Loki. His green eyes found yours, and they softened.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re dismissed for the rest of the day. Thor and I have much to discuss indeed it seems,” he murmured.

You bit your lip, and you could feel the king’s gaze searing into the side of your face.

“If you’re sure. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

He shook his head, and reluctantly, you stepped away. With a quiet sigh, you left his chambers without a farewell to the king.

The days that followed were…odd, to say the least. The king seemed to be around Loki a lot more, and by default, that meant he was around you more as well. You didn’t know how to feel about it, but you didn’t think you liked it. Not only was his presence upsetting the prince more than usual, and therefore upsetting you, but the king tended to stare a lot.

Having always been strictly a servant for the prince, you hardly interacted with Thor, but the few times that you did, you didn’t remember this being a part of his behavior. His ever-watchful eye unnerved you, and you soon started to wonder if he knew how you felt about the prince. You prayed not, because he didn’t strike you as the type to keep it to himself.

Unable to hold your tongue regarding his hard to ignore presence, you brought it up to the prince one night.

“It’s all rather tedious,” he sighed. “It’s nothing that I believe truly requires my input. That’s excluding his grand idea of me finding a wife.”

Your chin had been resting on the tub, fingers running along the smooth surface, when he spoke. You froze, feeling as if someone had taken a knife to you as you slowly lifted your gaze, eyes landing on him. He was leaning back with his eyes closed, the perfect picture of relaxation, a contrast to you at the moment.

“…what?”

Your voice was small, but the worry must have been evident, nonetheless. Loki chuckled.

“Do not fret,” he told you, finally opening his eyes. “No strange woman will be coming here to demand things of you anytime soon. I’m merely humoring him. Although, I will admit that he does seem to be rather persistent upon the idea.”

He moved to rise, and you looked away.

“It’s preposterous if you ask me. He suggests I began looking for a wife when he has yet to find a queen?”

You didn’t laugh along with him, knowing that the king had a rather annoying habit of getting whatever he wanted. The rest of the night was spent in silence as you helped Loki prepare for bed. If he noticed your strange behavior, then he did not comment on it, and for that you were grateful.

After quickly leaving his chambers, you found yourself amongst the rose bushes in the garden. Your shoulders shook as tears kissed your eyes, chest clenching at the thought of the prince binding himself to someone else forever.

A part of you had always known that this day would come, but you had never wanted to acknowledge it. You had hoped that something would happen before then. Of course, how could you expect that to come true when all you did was stare after him like some lovesick fool? A tear skipped down your cheek, and you hurriedly wiped it away just as you heard footsteps.

You thought nothing of it, knowing that many people ventured into the gardens throughout all hours of the day. However, when the footsteps stopped behind you, you had no choice but to turn. Surprise and confusion filled you as your eyes landed on none other than the king. Unlike before, you couldn’t get away with ignoring his presence.

“My king,” you greeted, standing.

You worked to school your features as he looked over you, a crooked smile on his lips.

“It is rather late for you to be frolicking about all by your lonesome, is it not?”

You frowned at his tone but brushed it off.

“I just wanted some solace and fresh air to think,” you told him.

He hummed, and you moved to leave.

“Goodnight, my king.”

He stopped you, and you looked to him with a small frown.

“It is late and dark. Allow me to walk you back to your chambers,” he offered.

You shook your head.

“I appreciate the offer, my king, but there’s no need. I’ve walked these dark halls alone many times before,” you replied.

You went to step around him, but again, he was there. You swallowed down your annoyance, biting your cheek.

“I’d feel much better if you allowed me to. I’d rest easy knowing you made it back safe.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you nodded, choosing to pick your battles with the almighty Thor. He rested his hand on your back as he walked you out of the garden, and you stepped out of his reach. The walk back to your room was filled with silence, but you were not bothered. Your mind was too crowded with thoughts of Loki.

He said that he was only entertaining Thor, having no intentions of taking a wife anytime soon, but that could easily change. The king had a way of getting what he wanted one way or another, and for some reason, he wished for his brother to be married. Your frown deepened.

“I’m sorry for my odd behavior at the meeting the other day. You did not look as I was used to seeing you,” the king said after a while with a small chuckle.

“It’s quite alright,” you sighed.

There was a brief silence before he spoke again.

“I do hope everything is alright. You appeared rather upset in the gardens…”

You shook your head, somewhat annoyed at his uncharacteristic behavior. You had never known Thor to be so observant of another unless it affected him. The only time you’d notice him pay so much attention to a woman was when…

Your lips parted, and you looked away as realization hit you. Your eyes slowly looked to him, and you found his attentive gaze already on you. You pursed your lips, annoyance filling you.

“If it appeared that way then I apologize. It wasn’t my intention. I merely have a lot on my mind,” you told him, voice clipped.

“Such as?”

“Nothing of importance.”

Your tone left no room for questioning, and you heard him huff. Relief filled you when your door came into view, and you bowed to him with a quiet ‘thank you’ before walking away. You felt him grab your arm, gently, but it still startled you, nonetheless.

You looked to him with wide eyes, brows furrowed. He stepped closer, and if it weren’t for his hold, you would have stepped back. His gaze was intense, sparkling with something you had seen all too often, and disgust filled you.

“If my brother is mistreating you in any way, you are always more than welcome to serve me instead,” he quietly said, voice thick.

Your frown deepened, and you pulled your arm away before stepping back, watching as his face fell.

“Why would the prince be mistreating me? He has never been anything but good to me.”

He cleared his throat.

“I just worry that your behavior might have something to do with him-.”

“As kind as that is, it is not necessary. As I said, I merely had a lot on my mind. The prince could never put me into a foul mood. Goodnight, my king.”

You swiftly entered your room before he could reply, and you placed your ear to the door. He seemed to stand there for a while before finally leaving with a huff. You only sighed in relief when he was gone, quickly ridding yourself of your dress.

You quickly slipped into one of the night shifts Ingrid had lent you, feeling naked in the flimsy fabric. You felt like you were crossing a line, but you couldn’t allow the king to get his way and have Loki married. The night air felt even cooler as you stepped out of your room.

You felt scandalous, but so many of the other women had done what you were currently doing a thousand times before. There was no need to feel ashamed or weird about it. Still, if anyone caught you, you’d have to come up with something.

The walk to the prince’s wing felt long. It wasn’t late enough for him to be asleep, that much you knew. He usually had his nose buried in a book at this time. You slowed when you got to his door, heart surprisingly steady in your chest. With a deep breath, you smoothed the fabric before knocking on his door. You could hear his footsteps approaching, but with a frown, you realized that his weren’t the only ones you heard.

You looked over your shoulder just in time to see the king approach, his wide eyes taking you in. Your own widened just as the door opened behind you, and you felt your body grow cold at the predicament you found yourself in.

“Y/N?”

You spun around, facing Loki as confusion filled his features. He ran his eyes over you, a myriad of emotions swirling in their depths just before he finally noticed his brother.

“Thor. What is the meaning of this?”

Your mind whirled, and you blinked.

“I…believe that I must have been sleepwalking, my prince. I’m so sorry-.”

“Nonsense. Here, the nights are colder these days,” he said, taking off the robe he was wearing before covering your shoulders with it. “What are you doing here, Thor?”

You too wanted to know the answer to that, and it was hard to keep the irritated frown from your face as you looked to him. His own eyes were on you, and you knew then that he saw through your lie. He cleared his throat.

“I came to discuss something with you, brother,” he said.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, surely it can wait until the morning. I must walk Y/N back to her chambers to ensure she makes it to bed safely,” he told him.

You smiled at him at him as he pushed you along.

“Thank you,” you told him.

You caught the frown on the king’s face, but you ignored it as Loki rested his hand on your arm.

“You’ve never been known to sleepwalk before,” the prince murmured.

“I know. Well, at least not that I know of. I’m not sure what happened,” you lied.

“Anything could have happened. You could have fallen down the stairs, or one of the unscrupulous characters who roam these halls could have happened upon you.”

You sent him an appreciative smile. His hand was warm on your arm, and you inhaled, breathing in the comforting scent of him. You basked in his presence, but all too soon, you reached your door. You took off his robe, handing it back to him, but when he grabbed it, you didn’t let go.

A frown was on his face as you tugged on the fabric, pulling him closer. You blinked at him, smile widening as hope filled your eyes, unable to miss the way he ran his eyes over you.

“Stay,” you finally whispered.

His eyes widened, face falling as you made your intentions clear. Realization bled into his gaze.

“You were not sleepwalking…were you?”

Reluctantly, you shook your head. He heaved a sigh, and your face fell.

“Y/N…you are my servant. A good one. I cannot use my authority to-.”

“Why not? The king does it all the time-.”

“I am not Thor! I refuse to be,” he said, and your lips trembled. “I will not take advantage of you.”

You grabbed his shirt, pushing yourself against him. You watched his throat bob, a look in his eyes that you had always prayed to see.

“I want you to,” you quietly said, hurrying to continue when you noticed that he was about to protest. “My prince, I would do anything for you. I would give you anything you asked of me.”

He exhaled, and it was shaky, and you smiled. He hesitantly leaned in, and your nose brushed against his. He whispered your name so softly, the sound going straight to your heart…and stomach.

He kissed you, and you moaned against his lips. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and one of his hands pressed into the wall, the other going to your waist. Your heart soared, and you felt like you were floating as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Take me,” you breathed into his mouth.

He froze, and you could have cried. Your heart sank as he pulled away, his chest heaving, and lips swollen and red. He smoothed down the fabric of your night dress.

“I…am giving you the day off tomorrow,” he murmured, and you frowned.

“What?”

Panic filled you, but he hurried to ease it.

“Do not fret. I merely have much to think about and…I cannot do so properly when you tempt me so.”

Embarrassment filled you, and you looked away as a deep chuckle escaped him.

“Things are starting to make sense, and I’m realizing that you have been tempting me for days,” he whispered.

“I would do it again,” you said, kissing him.

He hummed into the kiss before pulling away and opening your door. He gently pushed you inside, green eyes sparkling in a way you’d never seen before.

“Sleep well for I shall not abandon you.”

You smiled at him, biting your lip as he turned to leave.

“Loki…”

He paused at the use of his name, looking over his shoulder. You sighed, lashes fluttering.

“I love you.”

He blinked at your confession, lips parting. He took a step towards you and kissed you one last time. You watched him walk away, and when you closed your door, you slid down to the floor, the happiest you’d ever been.

Your happiness only increased the next morning when you noticed a folded slip of parchment that had been slid underneath your door. When you opened it, Loki’s handwriting greeted you, and your eyes widened as they skimmed over each line.

He wanted to meet you tonight in the master chamber of the abandoned wing. You briefly wondered why there, but his next few words informed you that Thor’s presence had been rather persistent lately, something you too had noticed, and he did not wish to be interrupted.

You spent your entire day off in a daze, wondering what tonight would entail. You remembered everything that Ingrid had told you, even some of the things that had made you squirm, and there was a very high chance that you would be doing those things tonight.

When the night finally came, you felt your nerves increase like no other. It was late, and the corridors were empty, bare feet walking on the cool floor. You wore nothing underneath the robe, body bare and clean from your bath earlier. You weren’t afraid. You trusted the prince more than you trusted anyone else in the world.

The room was empty when you entered it, but light was cast onto your features from the candles placed around the room. The bed was made, but you wasted no time in turning it back, robe slipping from you, a whisper of fabric in the quiet room. It fell to your feet, and you slid into the bed, pulling the sheet to your chest as you waited for Loki.

You didn’t wait long, and you sat up when you heard footsteps approaching. A soft smile danced along your lips, excitement filling you as Loki approached. You watched as the handle turned, but when the door creaked open, it was not his form that filled the entryway.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, a frown taking over as confusion and fear and anger filled you. Thor’s eyes met yours, and you felt your breath pick up, chest heaving as he shut the door behind him. Your lips were parted, at a loss for words as you fought to voice your thoughts.

“Well…this is a first,” his deep voice hummed. “A woman has never been disappointed to see me before.”

“…wh-what? What is the meaning of this? Where is Loki?”

He did not answer you right away, and your frozen frame finally moved as he took a step forward. You hurried off of the bed, clutching the sheet to you as you reached for your robe.

“I see the way you watch him. Such devotion in your eyes,” he murmured, almost in awe. “What man would not envy such loyalty from a woman such as yourself?”

You froze again, jaw clenching and fingers tightening as the truth hit you.

“You tricked me,” you quietly spat, glaring at him.

You didn’t bother to school your tone, king or no king. You were disgusted with him. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his features, and your anger grew.

“How else was I to get you alone? Your eyes only ever see my brother,” he said.

“So you take it upon yourself to use deception to get me alone with you? Because that’s the only way I’d ever do so.”

His own jaw ticked, and he narrowed his eyes.

“You practically fall on your face to get away from me, but him you throw yourself at like a common whore,” he sneered, finally exposing himself.

You surmised that he saw you and the prince last night, and your stomach turned. You took no offense to his statement for it was true. You’d do anything for Loki.

“It’s okay for women to act that way as long as its for you,” you said. “I would do anything for the prince…and you can’t stand it.”

You shook your head at him, watching his face twist into anger.

“You’re like a child,” you said in disbelief. “You get anything and anyone you want, and still, you know no satisfaction.”

“You will watch how you speak to me,” he ordered, taking another step forward.

“You have tricked me! And for what? Because I want your brother and not you? You’re despicable,” you threw at him.

“One more word of disrespect, and I shall have your tongue,” he threatened.

“The prince would never allow such a thing to happen,” you smugly replied.

He straightened, and he knew it was true. You threw the robe around you, only allowing the sheet to fall once it was secured.

“You do not spare me a glance,” he finally said. “It is as if I am not there.”

You snorted.

“What does it matter? I have always shown you the proper respect, my king, but you are angered because I’d rather fall at the prince’s feet than yours? There are lines of women in this kingdom ready to do your bidding. Leave Loki and I be,” you snapped, flurrying past him.

He stopped you, and you sharply inhaled.

“Surely you could be just as happy giving me what you so desire to give him.”

You frowned, offended. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Thor was hurt by your rejection. You shook your head at him, disbelief coloring your tone.

“You do not understand. I love the prince.”

You watched his fall, lips pressing together as he registered your confession.

“My loyalty and devotion to him is because of my love for him. I am in love with Loki. Do you get it now?”

He took a step back, letting go of you as he blinked, realizing that this was no matter of fleeting lust.

“That look that you envy so much is love, not desire. It angers you so because you have never known it,” you told him.

He glared at you, and you returned the look. You watched as he picked at a piece of lint on your robe, lip curling over his teeth.

“Then I will simply have to make you love me as well.”

He yanked you towards him, and you yelped, kicking at him. He pressed his mouth to yours, forcing a kiss on your lips, and you pushed your hands against his chest. He tore at the robe that covered you, and fear gripped you, a scream bubbling in your throat, but he swallowed it down.

You had always thought that Thor was too much, a list of things falling under the vague statement, and too strong was quickly added to it. He had you naked before him in no time, and you bounced against the bed as he threw you onto it. He fell over you, hands pinning your wrists down as he took his fill of you, eyes tracing every curve of your body.

“There is a part of me that regrets taking you away from my brother, especially like this, but the part of me that wants you all for myself already won.”

He kissed you again, and you only started to cry when you felt him moving to release himself. You had been prepared to ruin your reputation for the prince, risking the fate of marrying a second son or marrying no one at all. You loved him, but you would never risk such a thing for the king. Yet here he was, taking that choice away from you.

You screamed for Loki, desperate and afraid, but Thor’s lips covered yours once more, swallowing your cries. His beard tickled your skin, and his blond locks brushed over your face. You could feel the tip of him brush against you, and you trembled beneath him. He ignored your cries and your please, pushing into you so swiftly that the pain didn’t even register until moments later.

You yelped into his mouth, and he moaned into yours, trembling at the feel of you wrapped around him. Tears spilled from your eyes, anger and sadness paralyzing you. The king was in heaven…while you were in hell.

“Loki,” you sadly murmured, chest hurting at the thought of never being with him.

This angered Thor, and he snarled just before pulling his hips back and snapping them against you. You gasped in pain, nails digging into his arms as more tears ran down your face. His lips kissed at your cheek and neck as he thrust into you, low moans leaving him.

You turned your head away, anger increasing at the extent of Thor’s selfish nature. You hit at him, slapping his shoulders and face, curses flying from your lips. He quickly grew tired of your antics and grabbed your wrists, slamming them down beside your head. You sobbed in frustration.

His heavy breathing filled your ears as he slammed into you, every thrust making your heart clench in pain. You struggled to get your arms out of his harsh hold, but he only tightened them. You knew they would be sore in the morning.

Against your will, your core grew slick under his ministrations, the sound of his assault reaching your ears, making you cringe. He tried to kiss you, but you kept moving your head, refusing to give him what he wanted.

“You shall grow to love me as well,” he murmured.

You shook your head, and he pressed his lips to your jaw, groaning against your skin.

“I wish for you to show me the same devotion that you give to my brother.”

His thrusts grew slow, gradually pushing into your slick walls until you were forced to feel every vein and ridge of him. He moaned, a low sound from deep within his throat. You felt him shudder, and you did as well as warmth filled you, his cum slowly leaking out around his cock. He softened, but barely so, and fresh tears spilled.

He forced another kiss on you, grinding his hips into yours as he fucked his cum into you, the wet sound reaching your ears.

“I can give you the world too,” he groaned into your mouth. “I shall not rest until you look at me like you look at him.”

tags: @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin

#dark thor #dark thor x reader #dark fic #dark!thor x reader #dark!thor #thor odinson #thor x reader #marvel fanfiction

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time.

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that.

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now.

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays.

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise.

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?”

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever.

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper.

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk.

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.”

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound.

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her.

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together.

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own.

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower.

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).”

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.”

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself.

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.”

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing.

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working.

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back.

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked.

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life.

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?”

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly.

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious.

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head.

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.”

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?”

“Yes-why?”

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.”

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.”

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

#flip zimmerman x reader #reader insert #adam driver x reader #adam driver #fanfic #smut #multichapter #flip x you #Zimmerman x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #best friend #feedback appreciated #Fem reader #prologue

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enasallavellan · 2 years

Text

Chapter 160

After finally being introduced at the Winter Palace, Enasal must pretend to like people she would rather punch.

Feel free to click the links for ambiance while you read!

Baroque Noble Party

Krem found her after the dance, still scanning the crowd as he spoke. “Huh. Wonder why Solas didn’t teach you to dance… kind of mad to see he’s better than me.”

“I think he wanted to surprise people.” Enasal giggled, “He’s a little prone to dramatics.”

Her friends snorted.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get introduced.” She said.

“Don’t.” He said quickly, “Too embarrassing.” He grinned, “Plus, I’m not supposed to be noticed so much, remember? Need to keep an eye on your stupid self.”

She did her best to not glare at him. He smirked and moved away, standing at attention against a nearby wall.

Enasal thought about finding Cullen. She was having a harder time staying away from him here, as handsome as he looked in the dignitary uniform. Red looked nice on him, even though his grumpy face was on full display. But Josephine had made her promise to avoid spending too much time with him, that it would make her seem uninterested in the other patrons.

So instead she wandered elsewhere, looking for someone that looked friendly under their masks. But it wasn’t long before someone found her, instead.

“Lady Inquisitor!” Called a voice, “Lady Inquisitor!”

As she turned to the man she resisted the urge to correct him with her name, and instead smiled as the man and his companion walked toward her. With the practiced nod to greet them, she slipped on her court face. “Good evening, monsieurs. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

The man who had called to her was the first to speak. He wore a mask of black, obscuring his eyes and nearly blending in with his equally black hair. Blood red rubies set into lines of gold glittered as he spoke. “Lady Inquisitor, I am Marquis Audric Blanchet.” He gestured to the man beside him. He was quite a bit shorter than the first, with a violet mask and wavy blonde hair. “And this is my younger brother, Marquis Javier Blanceht.”

Enasal decided to give a small curtsy so she could stall while she tried to remember the proper way to address a marquis. Finally, it came to her just as she stood straight, “Your Graces.”

Audric continued to speak for both men, “I hope you will not consider it too bold for me to say how beautiful you are. I have heard the bards sing of you of course, but their words do not do you justice.” Without allowing her time to answer, he continued, “Such a lovely face, even underneath the tattoos.”

Enasal did her best to keep her smile in her eyes - slightly squinting as Josephine had taught her. If it had been any other person and any other place, the man would be on the ground after insulting her Vallaslin. But here, she was to ignore such statements - ignoring them apparently showed a lack of oversensitivity, which would surely put a target on her back. “I suppose I can allow such a bold comment to slide for now.”

He laughed, “Delightful girl, isn’t she, Javier?”

He silently nodded.

She was glad the Marquis kept speaking, it gave her more time to think of what to say. “I have heard whispers of your ascent into nobility?”

Enasal’s laugh was genuine, “Me? Nobility?” Remembering her fan, she flipped it open and lightly fanned her face, “Hardly, Your Grace. I doubt such a thing would happen to an elf.”

“With your charm and beauty?” Audric asked, “You have become well-loved in Orlais - I believe it is a possibility.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Audric turned to his brother, frowning and gently jousting him, “Forgive my brother’s silence. He’s a quiet man; shy. But I assure you, he has a sharp mind and clever wit.”

“I’m sure he does.” Enasal agreed. The conversation had taken a turn she couldn't quite place - and it was making her nervous. “I’ve been told some of the most brilliant people speak little.”

“And quite handsome under his mask.” Audric added, “And without a companion in life.”

Shit.

A cold stone of anxiety dropped into her chest, the paradoxical heat of it driving her heart to pound.

That was when Krem intervened. “Lady Inquisitor - Ambassador Josephine was looking for you. She wanted to introduce you to a member of House Campan. Apparently, they wish to speak to you about a possible alliance.”

Enasal nodded, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” She performed a small nod, “I’m sorry to cut the conversation short, Your Graces. Perhaps we can speak another time?”

By the mercy of Mythal, we won’t.

The younger brother finally spoke, “I do hope so, my lady.”

She kept her smile, departing with a nod. The swirling hot and cold in her chest leveled out and allowed her heart to slow.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“I sensed a proposal of a sort.” He muttered, “And trust me, everyone knows about you and the Commander.”

She felt her face heat up a bit - she knew everyone at Skyhold knew, but all over Orlais? “Really?”

He nodded, “Apparently a lot of the nobles are eating it up.”

She resisted the urge to rub her face, “I hope Josephine isn’t upset about it.”

“Doubt it.” He chuckled, “It only stirs the pot a little.”

Enasal finally cut sight of Josephine, standing with another woman, looking exasperated.

“Kind of strange.” Enasal whispered to Krem.

“What?”

She flicked out her fan again and spoke behind it, “That the Marquis acted like he was trying to match me up with his brother. I mean, I’m an elf. It seems like that could cause a scandal - and not the good kind, the ‘making you lose your title’ kind.”

“You’re the Inquisitor and Andraste’s Herald.” He said, “That’s high enough status that some would make an exception.” As they neared Josephine and the other woman, he saluted, “I’ve brought the Lady Inquisitor, as asked.”

Josephine wasted no time in her response, “Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll let you return to your duties.”

With another salute, Krem made his way to another nearby wall.

“Josephine, Josephine!” The woman gasped, “Is that her?”

With an irritated sigh, Josephine said flatly, “Inquisitor, please allow me to present to you my younger sister, Yvette.”

It was a relief to know she was Josephine’s sister - not some random noble. She smiled and curtsied, “I’m happy to meet someone who hopefully won’t put a knife in my back.”

The woman’s fan fluttered in excitement, “I have heard so much of you, Lady Inquisitor!”

“Please.” Enasal asked, “You’re Josephine’s sister - you can just call me Enasal.”

“Lady Enasal.” Josephine amended.

“Inqu- Lady Enasal.” The woman leaned forward with a grin, “I would love to ask you something -”

“Yvette.” Jospehien warned.

Her sister ignored her, “Is it true that Andrasee blessed you with a voice that can smite demons? That when you sing, demons are forced back to the fade? I hear that they fall to their knees like the bell of Chantry.

“Absolute nonsense.” Josephine said.

Yvette’s lips formed into a pout, “Everyone in Antivan says so.”

Enasal laughed and shook her head, “If I could do that, we would be at a much better place.”

Yvette looked disappointed at that.

“I told you.” Josephine said.

“Oh!” Yvette’s pout disappeared, “Is it true you and the Commander-”

Josephine shook her head, “No, Yvette.”

This time, her cheeks puffed out in the slightest, “You never let me have any fun, Josephine.”

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Josephine gestured for her to continue.

The woman wasted no time in continuing her question, “Is it true you and the Commander share a romance?” At the very least, she knew her ears had gone pink and Yvette gasped, “It is true? Josephine, why wouldn’t you answer me when I asked?”

“It is none of your business.” Josephine replied sternly.

Enasal laughed a bit, “They know about that in Antiva?”

“It is a tale often shared!” Yvette insisted, “A woman hand-chosen by Andraste and the Commander of her Inquisition, love blossoming despite the war surrounding them.” Her eyes had gone starry and she sighed wistfully, “Oddio, it is so romantic.”

“Yvette.” Josephine's voice was sharp, “The Inquisitor does not have time to answer such silly questions.”

Enasal shook her head, “It’s alright, Lady Josephine, I don’t mind.” She smiled reluctantly - it really was nice to talk to someone whose interests were relatively innocent. “Unfortunately, I do have to see to the other guests.” She couldn’t help but flash Josephine a smile, “But I hope you’ll write to me - I’d like to hear some stories about a young Josephine.”

“No.” Josephine said firmly.

“Oh, I will!” Yvette was deaf to her sister’s declaration, “Imagine, me! Writing to the Inquisitor!”

Enasal smiled, “I’ll take my leave. It was nice to meet you, Lady Yvette.”

It was then Enasal noticed a small book sitting on the banister. Curiously, she went over to it, swiping it as she went past. Scanning the area, she noticed a nook leading to a flight of stairs. Taking out her fan and fanning herself, as though a bit overwhelmed, she made her way to it, standing by the window and pretending to look out of it.

Krem must have noticed, coming to her and saluting. “What’d you find?” He whispered, turning to face the window as well.

Enasal frowned, “I’m not sure, I’m having trouble reading it. All this noise is making the letters really fly.”

Krem took it, skimming it. After a second he let out a puff of air, “Nothing useful. Just going on about Orlesian theater.”

She sighed in disappointment and put it on the windowsill.

“I’ll take you to her now.” He said a bit more loudly, this time escorting her to Leliana. “I actually was asked to come get you this time.”

Leliana was lounging in a chair, watching the people around her. She looked so relaxed, so effortless. Enasal wondered how she looked to the people around her. As they approached, she nodded to Krem, “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

He saluted and departed with no word.

“You and the Grand Duke spoke for some time.” Leliana said, “What did he say?”

“He thinks Ambassador Briala is the assassin.” Enasal said, “‘That elf’ as he called her.”

“I understand your instinct to protect one of your own.” Her voice had softened, “But she is up to something, that is for sure. But she can’t be our focus.”

She gestured to the chair near her, and Ensal slowly tried to lower herself into the chair, but it proved difficult in the tightly laced corset.

“Lift your dress a bit and lean slightly forward.” Leliana whispered, noticing the struggle. She watched with discerning eyes until Enasal managed to sit. She nodded in approval and continued, “The best place to strike at Empress Celene is from her side. It would seem she has an occult advisor - it would seem Her Radiance has developed quite the interest in such things.” She rolled her eyes a bit, “Foreseeing the future, speaking to the dead, that sort of rubbish.”

Enasal tilted her head, “That seems…. A little weird.” Noticing a few eyes on her, she crossed her legs and tapped her fan against her chin, “I’ve heard the Empress is very devout. It would seem that such practices would clash with her beliefs.”

Leliana shook her head, “Traditionally there has always been an official position for a mage, but before Madame Vivienne managed to turn it into a source of political power, it was nothing more than a form of entertainment. Silly little parlor tricks.”

“So it isn’t strange?”

“Not at all.” Her brow furrowed, “Her advisor seems to be an apostate… I’ve had dealings with her in the past. She is ruthless and will do anything for a grain of power.”

Enasal frowned, “How can she have an apostate in her court? Seems like that would damage her reputation.”

“Because she has attached herself to her.” Leliana explained, “An apostate serving the Empress is beyond reproach.”

Enasal nodded, “Sounds like something worth investigating.” She tilted her head, “Do you think she could be pulling some strings?”

“It’s more than possible.” She said, “She has no fear of blood magic.”

“Solas says that blood magic isn’t necessarily bad.”

“Until it is in the wrong hands.” Leliana insisted, “Then it can become more dangerous than a blade to your throat.”

That sent a shiver down her spine.

Leiana nodded, “All clues point to the guest wing. I suggest you investigate.” She said, “I’ll keep in touch with our spies to see if I can find any more leads.”

“Sounds good.” Enasal said, “I'll look into it right now.” She hesitated before asking, “Can I ask you for a little advice?”

Leliana sat back down, brow creased with worry, “Of course.”

“What do I do if someone tries to play matchmaker with me? Josephine said I shouldn't flaunt my relationship with Cullen.”

“Ah.” Leliana nodded, “Play along, but remain noncommittal.”

She had been hoping for an escape plan, but it would seem that wasn’t an option, “Okay. Thanks, Leliana.”

Krem joined her again, once again saluting as though on some sort of business, “Find anything?” Enasal nodded, “The guest wing. Leliana pointed out a place to start.”

“Good.” He followed her until she reached the hallway, where Krem posted himself at the entrance, “Got a couple of people in there - Blackwall and your sister, and I think the Chief is in there too. I’ll stay here to keep up the ruse.”

“Okay.” Enasal nodded, “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, saluting and posting himself at the entrance, “Be careful, En.”

Read the full from the beginning at my A03 here!

If you’re willing and able, feel free to my ko-fi here to help me keep the lights on!

#enasal lavellan #enasal tethras #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fic #dragon age fanfiction #dai #dai fanfic #dai fic #dai fanfiction #dragon age inquisitor #Krem #krem aclassi #josephine montilyet #Yvette Montilyet #Josephine #Leliana

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 11- At Last

Summary: Finally reunited with Geralt, the two of you attempt to avoid Nilfgaard and find a tavern for the evening, although it appears destiny has other plans.

Warning: angst, fluff

Masterlist

-last and final chapter my Witcher friends, that is until next season, and yes I will be continuing reader and Geralt’s story. There’ll be more monster slaying and adventures to come!

Within minutes after reuniting with your silver haired lover, did the two of you immediately find a spot elsewhere from the main trail for well...you know. A place hidden away from any unwanted prying eyes so that you both could show one another just how much you've desperately missed each other, in more ways then one. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so euphoric, perhaps that's just what making sweet love to your Witcher does to you. Even when he's pounding you against a tree while whispering the most dirtiest of sweet nothings into your ear.

You hadn't touched him like this in weeks, nor seen him for that matter, but he felt wonderful and seemed to be enjoying his time with you just the same. Though all too soon would your bodies have to part from one another's close embrace. All to your utter disappointment did the two of you end your hasty love making session, seeing as the land is closely crawling with Nilfgaard soldiers and who knows what else.

You got what you could get, and anyways, that won't be the first nor last time you two fuck in the woods.

The grass feels soft against your clothed bottom as you lace up your boot, your gaze set to the individual across from you as your eyes unbashfuly admire Geralt while he lays in the grass shirtless. His beautiful golden irises staring up into the tree tops as the wind sways the leaves every which way.

You pull at the leather strings, tying a confident knot with skilled hands while a small breeze blows your hair back, you're admittedly feeling quite delightful if you're being honest. Though when your crimson eyes glance up at the snowy haired man again, he's turned his head to you.

Your eyes meet at once, sending a blissful smirk upon your lips, "Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" You teased, narrowing your eyes in a playful manner.

Geralt's lips curl into a half smile as he lets out a small hum in reply. Setting your arms upon your propped up knees, you freely show him an eye roll. Earning a proper chuckle from the man, "Y/N I was simply cherishing your stunning appearance."

Shaking your head you smile, "Yes, of course you were. And I am simply looking at a shirtless man with the most utter respect and clean of thoughts in my mind." You casually shrug, "Nothing else going on in here, I promise."

Geralt raises a greyish brow, moving to prop himself up upon his elbow, "That sounds honest." He hums, "But you are no virtuous maiden my love, and by that telling look on your face only moments ago. I can only imagine what things you may have been thinking of then."

You let out a snort before deciding to crawl over to him, where he lets you push him back into the grass, "Indeed I am not." You whisper close, leaning on an elbow as your other hand caresses his cheek, "But I am undoubtedly in love with a Witcher of all creatures to walk this earth, so if we're using our heads, what does that truly say of me then?"

His golden eyes keep to yours as he brings a hand to rest over your arm, "I would say it means perhaps I am a fool to fall for one of my enemies' creations, my dear Y/N..." He pauses for a moment, taking this brief second to focus on you and only you as he holds you with the most care, "you are most cunning and beautiful."

Leaning into his small touch you grin blissfully, a feeling of ease and calmness setting over you as Geralt studies your face, "You are no fool my White Wolf. That I am sure of without a doubt in my mind, I can't seem to be able to even jest about it." You chuckle, "Though you tempt me at times." The smile that he gives you is the most precious thing your eyes could ever be blessed with, its warm and genuine, filled with the deepest and most purest of love for you. His lady of night, the one monster he could never slay, nor would he ever dare.

Though your heart fills with joy for him, a sudden sadness seeps into your soul, obstructing your happiness. Your eyes fall downcast as you move to lay yourself next to Geralt in the grass, he follows you closely, a frown displaying itself upon his handsome features at your sudden spurt of melancholy.

"What troubles you Y/N?" Wonders Geralt, shifting his body so that he can rest an arm over your chest, pulling you in close as he studies your face.

Resting a hand on Geralt's muscular arm, you frown once again, "I was brief about my short time in Aretuza and the Elven keep, I know I told you about all those bastard soldiers I killed and when I helped the mages the best I could.....it's just. I haven't told you everything." Your voice feels so small in the large forest, now since you think about it. You haven't had the time to completely process what happened at Sodden's Hill, with all those soldiers, the other mages, and especially Yennefer.

So much death.

His brow furrows in thought, unsure of what you're going to reveal next, all he knows is that he doesn't plan on letting you go for awhile longer. Your Witcher hums in reply, giving you a moment to find your words. Taking a deep heavy sigh you turn your head to look out at the clouds. "We tried to protect the North from Nilfgaard, those fuckers had their own spout of powerful mages to test against our own. For the whole day we all fought together...every man, woman, child, and mage. Fucking farmers and tired refugees, they weren't warriors, Geralt. None of them were."

You take another shaky breath as Geralt presses his head against your cheek, "I did what I could to save them. But I'm just one person, I couldn't save them all....though I must admit, those people fought braver then most royal soldiers I've ever seen. They have good heart in them....well, I guess did. Not many survivors I think, just the ones who had enough sense to get the fuck out of there.....and of course myself, Tissaia, Triss, and Yenn..." A small lump forms in your throat as you remember what happened, causing you to choke on your own words for a moment.

You bite your lip hard, your hand squeezing tightly onto Geralt's muscular forearm as you collect yourself enough to speak, though your voice is raspy and broken, "Yennefer, right. She fought valiantly like a true warrior, she was like a phoenix, like a raging mighty dragon of power and flame...Geralt you should have seen her." A tear falls down the side of your face as you smile into the cloud covered sun, your voice above a whisper, "I'd never seen anything like it....it was.....beautiful."

A light kiss is placed gently over your tear streak while his hand moves to find yours, "What I would have given to see you slay those dogs alongside Yennefer, Y/N. I'm sure she is proud to call you a friend."

"She's dead." Those two words leave your lips so quietly that Geralt almost doesn't catch them, but he does.

The heavy weight of this news takes him off guard, he did not expect you to just lay such tragic tidings over him like that, he may have been greatly annoyed by Yennefer but he did see that stubborn mage as a friend. Though his heart hurts for how broken and defeated you feel from the terrors you'd underwent only yesterday, the great loss you've experienced, all of your traumas crashing down atop your soul in this moment. He wants to comfort you the best he can.

He listens to the steady beating of your heart, understanding how sad yet angry you're feeling, "I'm sorry Y/N. Truly I am."

A tired smile forms at the corners of your lips as you turn teary eyes over to your Witcher, your faces mere inches from one another, "She was my first real friend you know, and I think I was hers. I'm grateful to have spent the last of her hours on this earth by her side then.....glad she wasn't alone. I just wish..." Swallowing the lump in your throat, you focus on Geralt's shimmering irises once again, "I just wish the world wouldn't take everyone I give a shit about, so don't plan on doing anything stupid, okay? I can't lose anyone else or so help me god or whoever is listening out there, I will slaughter the bastards who dare take you away from me."

"I do not doubt it my love, and don't worry Y/N. I don't plan on leaving you anytime soon." He speaks honestly before pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "You have my word."

——

Geralt holds tightly to Roach's leather reigns as he keeps a firm hand over your lower abdomen, a small content smile gracing over your features while you sit comfortably in front of him on the large mare. Just as you always have.

Your hands rest over his as you keep a steady lookout over the trail ahead, silently overjoyed to be leaning against Geralt and all of his godly body holding you up. A blissfully drunken grin keeps to your face while your mind tumbles and reels with everything that he's just confided about from the last four weeks, like what you'd done earlier after a fine quick session of love making.

Apparently he's been busy.

Though for the second time today, another troubling thought randomly pops into your mind as things tend to do, and now you feel this time is as good as ever to actually address it. Squeezing his arm a bit you let out a half amused huff, showing that you're about to speak your mind on something idiotic Geralt has done, and he knows it.

Your Witcher figured you'd eventually spill your two cents, as you always seem to do.

"So." You begin, slow and filled with something Geralt's not quite sure of, he mentally cringes as you squeeze his arm again, "you just told him to fuck off and that you'd prefer to never see him ever again? Just like that? To our bard. Jaskier."

Geralt pauses for a moment as you wait for an answer, "Yes." Is all he whispers, low and filled with regret. He told you all about Jaskier and himself hours ago, hoping you wouldn't bring it back up, but of course you would. He's never that lucky, there's nothing you don't ever catch.

You raise a brow and shrug, "Can't say I blame you. That idiot has gotten our asses in a lot of shit over the years." He lets out a breath, glad you're not fuming at his heated rash actions on the mountainside after you dramatically parted ways. Suddenly you grip his arm tight, enough to actually feel uncomfortable, he sucks in a breath as you squeeze, "Although, I don't believe Jaskier completely deserved that." You seethe through clenched teeth before letting go of your iron grip. So you are angry after all, thinks Geralt, funny way of showing it.

"I know....I was just....I'm sorry Y/N." He replies, his voice much softer then he'd intended.

Your face falls as you feel the hurt in his words for what he's done, "I know Geralt." You sigh, "Enough with the sorry's and regrets okay....what's done is done and there's nothing we can do about it now. And anyways, as I like to say "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so don't feel shitty about it now." He gives you a hidden smile as you chuckle to yourself, "You can feel shitty about it later."

Geralt lets out an amused snort, "Always one for wise words Y/N. What would I do without your kind intellect?"

"Dunno." You casually shrug, "Be a far less intriguing creature I suppose."

He tenderly kisses the top of your head, "I'd be a fool to argue against that logic."

"You're still a fool either way." You jest, cackling at your friendly jab at him, earning a gentle squeeze on your hip that sends butterflies into your stomach.

Gods the things he does to you.

For a couple more hours would you both ride Roach down the trail, past countless trees and a few streams until the sun would begin her descent over the land. Through this time you've been admittedly back to your old habits of amusing your Witcher to pass the time, mixed with seeing how long it would take to annoy him before he threatened to kick you off the mare.

It had been quite the eventful stretch of time before you caught the nasty pheromones of war seeping throughout the forest from some place close by, but not seen by your skilled eyes just yet. You held your tongue, not wanting to worry Geralt over something as insignificant as rotting corpses in the woods. But as Roach gets closer and closer, you begin to feel more strange, your scarlet irises suddenly catch a ripped tent behind a few trees.

Nilfgaard. Smell of death, more destroyed tents. Those bastards did this.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, the scent of freshly decaying corpses overloading your senses just about making your eyes water, you can't smell anything else but the stench of death.

"What I would give to be in a flower meadow right now." You seethe, blinking away the reactive tears in your eyes, Geralt looks down to you, unsure of what you mean considering his sense of smell is not nearly as prominent as yours. "I think Nilfgaard found a camp just over there, gods it reaks."

His grey brows furrow in thought, though he's left his words in the back of his throat as Roach walks closer to the carnage. Suddenly the three of you are face to face with an older man and his horse cart as he desperately and stupidly does his best to move the dead in piles for whatever it is that he's intended for them.

What a strange man.

Geralt shifts from behind you, tilting his head at the bearded man, "Ill winds follow grave robbers." States your Witcher as he hugs you closer protectively, or perhaps to keep you from doing anything destructive. The greyed man looks to the two of you, quietly acknowledging your existence before turning around to continue his doings.

"If I was a grave robber, I'd be taking their belongings, Butcher." He adds gruffly, squatting down to examine another slain body, "So best keep your beast with you." He adds, side eyeing you cautiously as he goes to move another of the deceased. Well, he knows Geralt's a Witcher and that you're not human. Maybe he's not that idiotic?

Geralt smirks, "If I was to let her satiate her appetite, you'd be amongst the corpses." The man falls silent, looking wearily between the two of you as your scarlet eyes trail over the nervous man.

He lets out a sigh, finally breaking under both your hard gazes, "I was goin' home to my family when I came upon these poor souls." He points towards the rotting bodies, "Cintran refugees. Dead at least a week. Now they're a feast for the crows."

"They're not for crows." You implore, shifting your ruby irises across the shadowy wood line while you listen to the buzzing of feasting flies. You had previously forgotten about what else may lurk in the shadows ready to feed, until now.

"Wolves?" He wonders.

"No."

Shaking his head, he ignores your odd wary vigilance, turning to glance at the two of you, "With more hands I could move quicker."

Yeah, fuck that.

"The only thing you should do quickly is flee." Warns Geralt, alert to the same understanding of what creatures may be hiding close by. The strange man grunts as he drags a body over the leaves, ignorantly discounting both your warnings.

With a click of his tongue, Geralt pulls at the mares reigns, "Come on, Roach, back to Kaer Morhen." You shake your head at the man as Roach begins to take a couple steps forward.

"Don't leave!" Pleads the bearded man, while dragging another, "Look at these people. Innocent people, killed for what?" He exclaims, sucking in labored breaths as he stands to look out over the mass of dead refugees, "So Nilfgaard can have more land? We owe it to 'em to do better."

"I'm not better." Mutters Geralt as he directs Roach away.

Always so dramatic huh.

You don't make it even three feet before your sensitive ears prick at the sound of crawling under the dirt. You know exactly what's now hunting the man, without a second thought do you break from Geralt's muscular arms to jump off of Roach.

Your feet move inhumanly fast as you race for the panicked man who's now scrambling away on the forest floor as two hungry ghouls claw for a taste. Realizing all too late that your silver dagger is lost to the ages you quickly adapt to instead aim for electrocuting the ugly fuckers.

Your palms spread wide as white hot lightening crackles and sparks in the misty night air, piercing the grotesque bodies of the living undead.

They screech in pain, giving Geralt just enough time to cut them down before they're able to recover, the man stops whimpering in fear as he turns his head up to you and Geralt. Who's now crouched a couple feet from the wide eyed man while he cleans off his sword, his eyes now two pools of glistening obsidian.

Sparks crackle in your palms as you huff in annoyance, "Go home." Your voice strong and steady.

The man snaps his attention over to you, "I can help." He insists urgently, causing you to roll your crimson eyes.

"One bite will kill you." Implores Geralt sternly.

The man turns to him, "Or you two." Then back to you again, his eyes fretful as you notice how he's just about shaking. He's terrified.

You let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm immune." You conclude gruffly, pointing to both himself and Geralt, "But not you two, so if you want to see your wife again...go home." The man stays still, breathing heavily as he sits on the soft ground, his mind swirling.

Geralt slowly stands, glaring at the man, "Go...home!" He snaps in that gravely voice of his, the petrified man stares at him before looking to your equally as stoic face. The blood red glow of your irises and the low crackling of lighting in your palm shifting his mind to a new understanding of his current situation.

He lets out a shaky breath, "All right..." Huffs the bearded man before scrambling to his feet, his boots carrying him over to his cart as he throws something into the back.

You ignore him and watch as Geralt walks slowly forward, his black eyes cautiously surveying over the land as you take a step, "Let me be the first to say, but I don't happen to feel very fond of what else follows." You whisper softly, your voice laced with concern as you sniff the foggy damp air, smelling nothing but decaying flesh as it wafts into your nostrils.

Geralt holds his weapon tightly, opening his mouth to answer, but before he's able to say anything a piercing screech breaks out from the woods. His sword flashes in the moonlight as he cuts down another hungry ghoul. Without warning another one breaks out of the earth to his right, dead in a flash as he slashes it across the throat.

The dirt bulges upward as another crawls from underneath the ground, heading directly for Geralt, the beast doesn't stand a chance as your Witcher stabs the soil directly in front of him. Killing the damn ghoul in an instant. Suddenly a black screaming flash races past you and tackles him to the ground.

"Oh fuck!" Unknowingly leaves you lips as you race to his aid, five of them have him pinned to the ground already as you pull his silver sword from the earth that he had left behind in the scuffle. These starving bastards don't see you coming as you begin slashing and hacking violently away at the ghouls. Trying your damn best to get them off of Geralt, they scream in agony as you end their half-lives.

More race out from the shadows to surround the two of you, Geralt pushes and punches more off of him as you slice through their grotesque inhuman bodies. So caught up in your own world that you don't have time to make sure if Geralt is all right when another one jumps for your arm, only to be greeted with a hard cut to its sunken in stomach.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you turn your head left and right, readying for anything else. When nothing appears to move you lower his sword to your side, turning around to give Geralt a smirk and no less a cocky comment.

Your face instantly falls when he whispers a harsh "fuck" while he leans down to look at something on his left thigh. He shakes his snowy mane, standing to his full height as he takes a limped step towards you. His obsidian eyes finally finding yours as he takes another troubled step forward, he looks like a mess.

Your eyes glance down at the bite mark revealing itself from an opened spot in his dark pants, you suck in a sharp breath, your face dead serious as you watch him with wide glossy eyes. His face looks rough and sweaty as he limps closer, suddenly falling to his knees as he stares at you, almost pleadingly, his dark eyes full of pain.

"Geralt?" You whisper, your nerves standing on end at the sight of him, no way he's just been bitten, it can't be.

Your lip quivers as you drop the forgotten sword upon the earth, taking hasty steps as he looks tiredly into your frightened face. You quickly kneel down to meet his eye level as he lets out a shaky breath, your hands gently touch his dirt smudged face as he wills his hands to grasp your arms.

His grip is unnaturally weak as you look deeply into his eyes, your voice shaky, "You're fine. You're fine, it's just a small wound nothing worth worrying over....it's just..it's nothing...you're fi...." His head falls downward in your palms as his hands slip from their place on your arms, "No, no, no, no....Geralt, love look at me! Look at me!" He answers back with a low groan, you swallow the building lump in your throat as he struggles to lift his tired gaze to yours.

The weakest of smiles displays over his handsome features as he lets out a tired sigh, "You're beautiful....you know that?" His voice is soft and broken as you hold up his face, biting your lip to keep from crying. He smiles sluggishly, "Thank you for loving me...I....Y/N...I...love y..."

Suddenly his eyes shut as he goes limp against you, you catch him and quickly move to gently position his body so that his head can rest in your lap, "Geralt no!" You exclaim desperately through tears that are starting to blur your vision, "Wake up! Wake the fuck up you dick...you can't leave me here!" You shake his shoulder but to no avail, "Fuck! No, no, no....I just got you back." Tears race down your cheeks as a sob racks through your entire body, you suck in a breath, trying to contain your pain.

This isn't fucking fair!

The old man hustles to your side, now made aware of the dire circumstances, "Ohhh, dear...Uh....we can take him to my house, if you will.....Just, keep him awake." Proposes the man, you hold Geralt closer, your wet cheeks glistening in the moonlight as your crimson eyes glow blood red.

"If you help me save him I won't end your pathetic life because of your stupidity!" You snap, making him flinch backwards as you glare at him, a low growl emitting from deep within your throat. If Geralt dies you might tear this man to shreds.

He quickly regains his bearings, now understanding that his life is at stake if Geralt dies under his care. The man walks around you, reaching down to pull Geralt from out of your lap. Once you're free he looks to you, "Miss he's quite heavy, this one. Could you lift his legs and help me carry him to...."

He's left with nothing but a genuinely bewildered look as you pick your sleeping Witcher up, holding him in both your arms while ignoring the mans shocked expression as you walk over to the large wooden cart. Setting Geralt in the back on a couple soft bags of goods.

Jumping in next to him, you kneel down by his side while the man quickly ties Roach to the back. It's going to be a long night. Until dawn broke out over the horizon, the great sun coating the land in daylight would you lay by his side as he slept through the multitude of hours.

Finally coming to in the late morning, looking more pale then usual and clearly disoriented, his golden irises trying so hard to focus on your blurry face. The man, who revealed himself to be Yurga, kept his horses at a fast trot while you continued to hold tightly onto your Witcher's arm, squeezing it every time he would begin to close his eyes. Just keep him awake.

"I don't know about you." Starts Yurga, "But I'm not liking the sound of those explosions in the distance....bloody Nilfgaard better keep themselves far away from here. We don't need trouble like that round these parts. Not after everything they've done."

Geralt stirs underneath your touch, snapping your attention back down to him, you watch as his eyelids open and close, his golden irises looking rather lost and hazy. He's so pale, too pale.

"Easy does it Butcher." Affirms Yurga as he turns his head to the side, "You got bit, best keep your sights trained on the pretty lady in front of you."

Geralt's brows furrow as he turns his own head to the side at the sound of the mans voice, confusion clear on his face since the poison from the ghouls has begun to mess with his mind. Seated closely on his right, his muscular arm on your left and his broad body on your right, his face is much more faded in color now. Too pale and sickly looking for your liking.

Reaching an arm out, you gently touch his face, turning his head back to you, "Geralt, keep those fine golden eyes on me, you gotta focus love....you're becoming delirious, but you're not dead. Just stay awake Geralt I'll be right here." He blinks hard, his face appearing dazed as he listens, suddenly trying to sit himself up.

You quickly react, leaning over him to grasp both his arms, stopping him from moving anymore, "Be still Geralt. You'll only make things worse if you try and move, your bite is spreading slowly but moving will only bring you more pain." His face grimaces in discomfort, you release your grip, sitting normally once again.

Oh Geralt, be strong for me.

Your face a mask of deep worry at his reaction, he may be a Witcher, but if his wounds are not treated properly he will die. Leaving you completely and utterly alone in this world whether you're ready for it or not. You rest a hand over his chest, listening to the slow thud of his heartbeat, he stares up at the sky, his gaze lost in the clouds.

You can tell he's probably watching some hallucination playing out before him, his gaze seems so far away while you sit here on this stupid hay covered cart pulled by the slowest two horses you've ever seen. He stirs again, his pale face trying to find yours as he focuses in on your worried appearance.

You can tell he's back, especially when his left arm quickly takes yours that was previously resting over his chest. He squeezes your hand, "My bag. Y/N I need my bag." His voice his gravelly and urgent, you quickly turn to look around, the pull of the cart jostling you while your eyes hunt for the bag.

"Yurga stop the fucking horses for a moment!" You yell, letting go of Geralt's hand as you grab the leather bag. Yurga directs his horses to stop, turning abruptly around to see what's the matter.

"The bottle....Y/N.....you know which one." Rasps Geralt as your eyes quickly find the small glass bottle containing some dark liquid, a type of healing potion for sure.

Handing the potion to your Witcher he hastily takes it, ripping off the cork with his teeth before making a face and chugging most of it. He groans, pouring the rest over his infected wound, more groans of pain sounding as you listen to the sizzle of flesh take to the healing mixture.

Gently patting his arm you hand him a small smile of reassurance, "You definitely need a healer, I'm afraid not even my blood can heal these wounds. Those fucking ghouls." You growl as Yurga urges his horses to begin trotting down the trail again.

His body rests against the piles of clothes and hay while his hand reaches out for yours, "I need to go to the Blue Mountains....Y/N...tell him I need to...." Mutters Geralt with tired eyes.

You squeeze his hand, "What? No, we don't have....you don't have enough time, Geralt you'll die."

"He'll heal me....I just need to go...."

"No!" You cry, there is absolutely no way you'd both make it to the Blue Mountains before his heart stops beating, "Stay awake you fucker, we'll heal you soon enough, just stay awake....we're almost to Yurga's farm. You'll get proper treatment there....just stay awake."

Until the sun would set and the darkness of night crept over the land would you constantly play as an ever continuous jostling annoyance to Geralt, doing all that you must to keep him awake and alive. Soon enough would Yurga have to stop and let his old horses rest for awhile. In the meantime, you'd help Geralt to lean against a tree as you went off in search of healing plants that could help to temporarily stop the spread.

With not much to give from your herb hunting, you walked forth from out of the bushes and into the grassy tree covered opening where you're greeted with the sight of a dark-red haired mage tending to your Witcher's infected bite wound. You immediately freeze, though she's too focused to even realize that you're watching her work. For a couple minutes would you observe her talents before blinking once and suddenly she's gone. Just like that, gone.

Well that was fucking bizarre.

Suddenly Geralt bolts upright, your brows furrow as he looks all around him, his wide eyes shifting right and left until they finally find your familiar form walking closer. He lets out an audible sigh of relief, before his grey brows furrow once again in thought.

"Where'd she go? The woman?" He wonders, confusion clear on his face as he watches you crouch down to meet his eye level.

You raise a brow, "Can't say I'd know, but I wish I'd have time to thank her for doing whatever magical mage shit she did to your infected bite mark." You reply with a chuckle, "Now you've gotten yourself a new scar added to the collection. Though still a very handsome work of art in my humble opinion."

His face softens at your relaxed tone, suddenly realizing that there's no need to worry anymore, "Thank you Y/N."

You laugh, "What for? I didn't do that much, I didn't even know how to properly heal you. And I definitely wasn't planning on turning you into a vampire just to have you around longer."

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you study his face, "For keeping me awake this long, no matter how much I wanted to shove you off the wagon."

"I knew you wanted to do it, I could see it in your face. That is, when you weren't staring off into nothing like a lost boy who had too many special herbs." You jest, earning a pleasing chuckle from your sweaty Witcher. You smile, "Now. Come on my love, let's go." You reach a hand out for him to take, without a second thought he accepts, letting you pull him to his feet.

He shakes his head, steadying himself as he holds your arms, "Geralt you're acting like you've just downed half a dozen mugs of ale, lets rest on the cart yeah? Yurga will take us to his farm where we can get some proper food and drink, and if we're lucky....you some new pants."

His smile is soft as he looks down at you, Geralt touches your chin affectionately, "That sounds rather lovely."

Before he can do anything else you grasp the hand that's touching your chin, "I know exactly where your mind is going next and all I have to say is you're getting a bit more cleaned up before those pretty lips of yours are allowed to kiss me." He closes his eyes, resting his head against yours as he releases his hand from your chin. Now pulling you closer with his large strong hands.

"I could have died." He mutters, his gravely voice laced with a friendly playfulness.

"But you didn't."

"I could have."

"I know." You finally sigh, "You're still sweaty and smell like a dog who rolled in cow shit."

He lightly chuckles, "That's rude." Before pressing a feather light kiss onto your forehead where he then pulls away after a moment, "Guess we should help the old man pack the rest of his bags away."

Gripping his torso tighter you lean in close, "I'm enjoying myself too much." You admit, "Even though you smell rather atrocious at the moment."

"Oh please Y/N." Muses Geralt, his face inches from yours, "You still called be pretty when I was covered head to toe in Selkiemore guts, if I do recall."

"Did I? Must have slipped." You mutter lowly, brushing your lips past his.

"Y/N." Warns Geralt, his hot breath fanning over your smirking face as your ruby irises flicker from his plush lips to his golden eyes.

"On second thought. Perhaps you do look rather lovely at the moment, I think I'll just have to..." He's left guessing what you would have said next as your lips press firmly against his, both your arms pulling one another even closer now. Despite all he's just endured, Geralt tastes quite nice, his muscular body feeling even better holding you so close.

His lips move with yours in some pleasurable heated dance, soon enough does his calloused hands reach up to place themselves on either side of your face, you smile into the kiss at his urgency to hold you close. A couple more lingering blissful moments are shared flush against one another before your Witcher inevitably pulls away, first pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your lips once again before finally pulling away to look into your glistening eyes.

His hands still gently holding your cheeks, while your own ones grip around his forearms, "I hope there's more of that for when we find a tavern later." You muse, biting your lip as Geralt's eyes stare deeply into yours.

"Y/N. I'll let you take me any way you want." Mutters Geralt in that low and gravelly voice of his, "Just me and you."

"I think I'd like that very much." His lips find yours once again as your fingers trail down his back, wishing so hard that you were both laying on a soft warm bed in some hidden tavern in the mountains.

While you're both unbashfully exploring each others bodies like it was the first time, a sudden cough is heard from behind you causing the two of you to abruptly pull apart and look in that direction, "Uh...don't mean to intrude, but uh.....could we get moving if ya both don't mind?" Asks Yurga politely, trying not to find either of your amused gazes as he looks at a stick on the ground.

Right, you'd probably want to get out of the woods first.

The merchant Yurga had been true to his word, he had finally at long last made it to his home placed in a great clearing within the woods. A comfortable farmhouse on an open spot of land away from the fighting and battles nearby. His cart came to an abrupt halt as his wife quickly opened up the door and raced out to meet him, excitement flowing through her veins as a huge smile graced her face.

"We're all okay. The war is close, but we're okay. I need to tell you something." Exclaims Yurga's blonde curly haired wife.

"Me too." Affirms the older man with a slight thrill lacing his words.

His wife smiles, "I met a girl. An orphan, I found her in the woods nearby." Geralt halts all movement at the startling words, you doing the same as both of your furrowed gazes find one another.

No way this is who you think she's actually talking about. Hundreds of girls have been orphaned by the war.

"I met a Witcher." Speaks Yurga with a nod, "And a dhampir, if you'll believe it." Without warning Geralt jumps down from the cart and begins walking towards the woods much to your confusion, "They saved my life. Now fetch 'em some ale before they go to Kaer Mor-somthing." Urges Yurga, while you jump down from the cart, making hasty steps in Geralt's direction as Yurga and his wife finally look over to watch as the two of you make for the woods, "Hey, Butcher. Butcher! Where you goin'?" Shouts Yurga as Geralt continues onward, almost caught in a trance as he ignores the rambling merchant.

"Y/N?" Shouts the older man, causing you to stop and turn to him, "Where you two goin'?"

Your brows furrow, not completely sure of yourself, "I don't know." You whisper, keeping your body still as you look out at the thick greenery where Geralt had just wandered into for some unknown reason. You can't explain why, but you feel as though this is a path that only he must take.

The girl in the woods will be with him always.

He walks through the forest, his feet taking him somewhere or rather to someone who's been hiding from him for a long time. He can't even fully explain it, the call he feels to find what he's seeking. He suddenly stops, thinking his thoughts must be false and this urge to find who lingers in the wood is simply horseshit as per usual. A false sense of destiny. He turns around, walking a couple steps further back the way he came before an undeniable urge to look back consumes him.

The girl in the woods will be with you always.

And there she is, Princess Cirilla of Cintra, a shining beacon of hope in the dull wet gloom of the towering forest.

Destiny has prevailed.

Your boots shift from right to left as you stand idly in the morning air, your thoughts swimming around in your head of what could be taking Geralt so damn long, even if it's only realistically been about three minutes. Your new friends from behind you have instead left you to yourself and decided to tend to their horses, much to your relief.

Hugging yourself closer, you shiver, though you're not cold. A kind of magic of sorts seems to catch you in the misty air, a feeling you haven't felt since that night at Pavetta's banquet pulls around you like leaves on the wind.

How odd it feels, yet this seems right.

Two heartbeats reach your heightened ears, one so slow. But the other, beats normally like that of a child's.

You take a step back, steadying yourself as you wait for who you're expecting to inevitably appear. Shoes move across earth and leaves, signaling their close arrival. Your nerves die as two shadows emerge from the bushes and into the sunlight, the two of them are talking, unaware of your presence in the yard.

The child suddenly looks, her enchanted blue green irises falling onto you as she quickly comes to a halt, her eyes full of wonder and nervous apprehension. Geralt's brows furrow as he stops as well, his face turning to find the source of the girls fear.

His golden eyes spot you in an instant, he finds you staring curiously at the small blonde girl, the tiniest of smiles gracing your lips as you fiddle with your hands. You can't help but feel ridiculous for how you've been feeling about meeting this Child Surprise after so long, she is just a girl, a survivor of the unspeakable. Though you may not be the best with children in general, you feel no ill will against this one, all those previous feelings of loathing and judgement are gone to the wind.

Geralt's eyes are kind as he gently rests a comforting hand over her thin shoulder, she looks to him now then back to you as he speaks, "This is Y/N of Alkatraz, the dhampir princess of the High Northern Kingdom. My uh, lover?" He says cautiously, a bit unsure of what to truly call you before he thankfully finds his words, "Well...uh, my immortal companion, and someone who I love very deeply."

Oh, Geralt you adorable idiot.

Ciri's brows furrow in thought for a moment as she finds her courage, "My grandmother told me of that kingdom, she said it is ruled by vampires. Are you one?" She wonders, her voice a small nervous whisper.

The corners of your eyes crinkle in amusement as you smile, shaking your head, "No my dear princess, I am of that blood and character, but a dhampir is what I am as Geralt said. It's someone who is half vampire and half human." You assure the small girl, "No need to fear me, I promise you princess that I would never harm you in any way, you have my word."

A small grin tugs at the corners of her lips before her eyes fall downcast, "That's very kind, most people I've met so far out here have tried to kill me." She hands you the flash of a smile, "Glad to know not everyone is like them." She reveals freely to you with her small voice, so this is truly the Child Surprise.

The princess of Cintra.

"With us, you will not have to fear the damned talons of Nilfgaard Princess Cirilla...I will protect you with my life now."

Her brows furrow in thought at your truthful words, "You know of me? But how?"

You smile kindly, your scarlet irises flashing over to Geralt for a brief moment, "I have traveled with this handsome Witcher for almost fifty years, I know everything he knows. Even who you are." You take a couple steps forward, kneeling down to face her sad eyes, "And I am truly sorry for your loss, no child deserves the pain and fear you have endured since Cintra's fall. No less the horrors you have witnessed since your escape, these lands are undoubtedly deadly."

"Thank you, Y/N." She looks from you to Geralt, "I'm glad to have found you both then." You smile, standing up fully to lace your arm with Geralt's.

"Now, I think these kind people here may have breakfast waiting for us and some ale if I'm lucky, so my small friend Ciri, would you join us for a decently peaceful morning?" Ciri gifts your ears with a small giggle as Geralt hums in amusement. Proud that you're taking so well to the newest addition to your group of two.

You turn around just as the curly haired woman waves, "Would you all mind joining us for breakfast?" She calls out as a satisfied grin breaks out upon your face, "Of course we would be delighted!" You shout back, probably with too much excitement but you're trying to look as non threatening as possible. Also you are admittedly very hungry.

The three of you begin walking toward the farmhouse, Ciri follows the woman and her husband inside as Geralt stops near the entrance, you turn a raised brow to him, "What is it now? You planning on finding another magical orphan in the woods again?"

He looks down at the muddy ground before finding your lingering gaze once again, "No, just trying to figure out what to do next." Grumbles your Witcher in that lovable gravely voice of his.

You gently squeeze his hand as a smirk plays at your lips, "How bout we think of breakfast first? Then we can set our sights on paying our friends at Kaer Morhen a little visit. Bet they'd love that." You add sarcastically, wiggling your brows.

Your Witcher finally gives you a small smile, "Oh, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you again." He jests.

Lightly smacking his arm you take a step into the doorway, turning back to look at him, "What? Am I not nice and lovable? Can't believe you'd even say that."

"Only when you want to be." Mutters Geralt before gently kissing the side of your head while walking past you, "Now lets get some ale."

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 of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #princess cirilla #roach the horse

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

Text

[OM!] Mother!MC with Demon Brothers + Luke Headcanons

Scenario: Instead of a younger human, the Devildom welcomes a mother (with a 3-year old son in tow) into the exchange program.

intro + headcanons about how the brothers would interact with her

no romance… just uwu

bonus how the brothers would treat the son (why son? Perhaps because I too want a son)

Female reader!! (MC is referred to as she in this post)

bonus character: Luke :3c

I JUST WANT THEM TO FEEL LOVED OK

Lucifer wasn’t prone to believe in fate-- and the beginnings of the exchange program was just another reason why he did not. He let the breeze-- the wind pick a human applicant for him; and if he had gone through every application (though he wasn't completely sure he'd be sane by the end of it all) maybe this situation wouldn't have happened.

"What do you mean you can't be one of our exchange students?" Diavolo inquired, more curious than anything, an amused smile gracing his lips.

"I have a son," she said hesitantly. And there he was, peering around at the assembly room in his mother's arms that were wrapped protectively around him.

A mother and her human child, Lucifer thought blearily. One could only imagine what would happen if both of them remained here. (Which is why he never cut corners in anything he ever did ever because the one time he does, things go to shit. Damn Diavolo for enabling him.)

Lucifer

disgruntled by the adjustments made to accommodate a human child and his mother; mf will he ever rest

probably has to worry about babysitting duties delegated to his brothers

however, pleasantly surprised by MC's calm demeanor and reliable personality; finally another competent person in the house he doesn't have to really pick up after

...actually adores her and her son

accidentally does things to please her without really realizing it and hates the slight disappointment or worry he sees when he goes through sleepless nights or lashes out from anger

doesn't remember the last time he's been chastised, but he's as embarrassed as he can be when she fusses over him

the hell coffee she makes for him every morning and the snacks she brings during his breaks makes him lowkey wanna cry-- he doesn’t know how to deal with a selfless, unconditional love

is used to being a single parent ngl so taking care of her son is kinda… easy especially if the son is compliant

finds himself pressing a kiss to his forehead absently and catches himself only after he's done it (bonus points if Barbatos takes a pic of it and sends it into their trio gc)

“Barbatos, please delete this picture.”

“Oh, are you sure about that?”

“................”

ah he's attached, and so are his brothers, which kind of perturbed him a little but he’s kind of in the same boat after a short week or so

(if there was one brother who had a chance of harboring feelings for a mother mc, it’d be Luciiiiiiii uwuwuwuuwuuw; what can I say? He can’t resist the milf)

eventually, he opens up to her about the war-- because if there was any human he’d trust with his secrets, it would be MC

Mammon

he's crying

he doesn't think anyone has ever talked or held him as gently as MC

similar to the game, absolutely adores her and can't even lie about it

ok jk he's still a tsundere, but blushes every time MC looks at him with a knowing look because he can't lie convincingly enough that no, the head pats dont feel nice and no, he's just eating the lunch she made because it'll be a waste otherwise, ok?!

Her son definitely thinks he’s related to Mammon

Definitely the first one to accidentally call her “mom”

But hey don’t blame him-- he’s weak to how MC looks at him endearingly as she brushes hair out of his face motherly, like he can do no wrong

Nothing can compare to how Mammon feels when MC tells him she’s proud of him

feels legit guilty when she calls him out on his habits of stealing things to the point he remembers her voice when he tries to do it again-- basically his conscience ngl

she's like a cold hand to his feverish forehead, a cooling balm to the burn on his hand

when she defends him from his brother's insults, swears he'll protect her and her son

on that note, adores her son too and her son adores mammon!

surprisingly (or not) good with kids and treats them well; plays with them, very lively and dynamic

takes babysitting pretty seriously-- makes him consider the fact that he might actually want to be a father in the future if possible

not that he doesn’t have reckless endeavors with her son... they just end up okay so no one is none the wiser until it shows up on someone’s devilgram or spoken about through Barbatos/Diavolo

Leviathan

Honestly doesn’t know how to to react

A little miffed tbh that he finds it so easy to talk to her about…. Everything???

When he enlisted her (and her son) to get his money back from Mammon, did he expect to rant to her about all his animes and gush about his figurines to her because that was one of the first time someone’s allowed him to indulge in his hobbies and listen patiently?

No, and now he’s crying

And the fact she gently addresses his self-deprecating comments and urges him to see how she sees him (smart, witty, forgiving)---

Will probably do anything for MC and anything she says at this point; the pact is just a formality LOL

Listens to her and genuinely thinks the things she does for him is in his best interest

Had a hard time knowing how to deal with her son for a while, simply because he doesn’t know what he could do to actually entertain the child

Then finds out he could literally put up TSL or any of his favorite animes and the kid will watch it-- and ABSORB

Levi might as well be the kid’s best friend at this point-- dubbs him ‘Henry’-- which is really the greatest compliment MC thinks her son can get from him

Honestly volunteers to babysit him and proceeds to spoil him rotten

Satan

Slightly annoyed at how motherly she is at the beginning-- he takes her care and actions as if she treats him like a child

Finds it frightening how soothed he feels when he’s around her

There’s something about an older, calming presence that saps the anger from him and makes him feel like he can be himself around MC

Surprisingly the second person to accidentally call MC by “mom” probably an hour after he makes fun of Mammon for doing it (lol karma)

isn't one to seek out her attention like with levi, mammon, or asmo but is pleased whenever he does have time to spend with her because she always seems to have insight on everything and a strange wisdom that all mothers apparently do

has a lot of late night talks with her about her life, her career, what it's like having a child

often finds himself asking her for advice, and even if she doesn't have the answer, he always comes out of it thoughtful and clear minded

always willing to take care of her son; delights in reading him his favorite books and enacting the exciting scenes

always treats him like an adult to the point that their conversations are really funny to listen to

"So would you say the author's intent of the blue door was to convey the agony of grief?"

"I like the color blue."

"As did the protagonist; hm, you bring up a good point."

the son is Satan's partner in crime against Lucifer

"It's better if we do this, isn't that right?"

"Yeah!" MC’s child says, happily chewing on his favorite snack that Satan always gives to him and honestly not caring about the conversation at hand at all

"See? He agrees with me!”

And Lucifer just sighs bc he always loses in these arguments and Satan is unbearably smug

Asmodeus

similar to Satan, finds her presence in Devildom to be very pleasant and calming

she never seems to be disapproving of his past times, and Asmo is endeared by the way she never fails to say "stay safe" or "have fun!" or even "do you want me to leave the front lights for when you come back?"

the little motherly ways in which she shows she cares makes Asmo adore her

loves taking her shopping; always has a good time just gossiping, trying new clothes, or having a girls night out with self careeeee

when her son tags along, loves to have him dress up too or try on make up and it's too adorable NOT to post on devilgram

pretty sure MC's son has trended on devilgram before-- but that was the first and last time because Lucifer yelled at him for advertising the fact there was a human child in Devildom

which Asmo thinks is silly because he's pretty sure the caption under the selfie of the three of them ("So adorbs! I've only had MC's son for a day, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in Devildom and then myself. Teehee!") would have deterred any demon from laying a finger on him

When Asmo has him for babysitting duties, always loves to bathe him and play with bubbles, morphing his hair into an afro or an equally fashionable hairdo

actually very attentive to the child!!

Beelzebub

Not much changes from how Beel treats MC, but does view her actions in a more motherly manner

I think one thing that would change is that-- considering MC is a mother of her own child, is actually very protective of the brothers and sensitive to their changes in moods

When Lucifer gets angry at Beel and Luke, MC is furious and furiously protective, not yielding one bit or hesitating to put herself in front of them because of her instincts-- Beel has never admired her more

Physical strength has always something he can easily understand, but it is the strength of wills and of bravery that surprises him every time

After Mammon and Satan accidentally calls you “mom” Beelzebub has no qualms with calling you by mom either-- I mean, what’s the shame in that? Everyone already thinks of you as their mother-figure anyways

MC helps him deal with the loss of his sister

With MC’s child… You know that one meme with the two ways dad deals with kids: one is softly kissing his child on the forehead as he sleeps and the other is carrying his kid by the leg with one arm

Both of them is Beel

carries the kid around in the weirdest ways sometimes, including on his head, in one hand like he's holding a trophy, upside down (dw the kid thinks it's funny)

main transport is on his shoulders though; thinks it's kinda cute how the kid puts his arms around his head

wouldn't love anything more but to nap with him, but Beel is afraid of hurting him when he sleeps

Is the softest with MC’s son--- he’s not used to being the older brother, so he takes this responsibility kind of seriously

Always makes sure the food that MC’s son eats is appropriate so he tastes/tries it first… and sometimes ends up eating all of it, but he always manages to succeed in feeding the kid so it’s all good

Belphegor

Wants to hate MC so badly the first time they meet when he’s in the attic

He’s supposed to HATE humans, damn it-- why the hell is MC trying to be so motherly and understanding, huh?? How dare she make him guilty after he lied to her like wlkjaflksjfkjasdlfj

Out of all of them, seeks MC the least; whether it’s from guilt or the fact that her presence reminds him of the things and resentment he used to hold against her

Takes a little more cajoling from MC to talk to her and explain how he’s feeling so they can move past it

He’d rather die than let anyone else know that he teared up when they talked about Lilith and how he felt about everything; urges Belphie to talk to Lucifer and seek reconciliation with him individually (because it may be a family problem, but the feud was between the two of them, don’t you think?)

Finally gets the redemption arc he deserves and feels a lot lighter knowing that everything that has happened is now in the open and he’s ready to start healing

In avoiding MC after the whole debacle, Belphie ends up spending more time with her son because he thinks Belphie is fascinating and Belphie has no clue why

Similarly to Satan, treats the kid like he would anyone else but does find it amusing if the kid chases after his tail like a cat

Always ends up napping with him whenever MC’s son takes a nap-- after all, what’s easier than looking after a kid if you’re BOTH asleep?

Keeps an eye on him by putting a hand on his torso as they nap together

Uses MC’s son as an excuse to not do something, especially when Lucifer tells him to do something he doesn’t like to do

Honestly the son is a part of his arsenal-- he knows how weak everyone is for this kid (and so is he tbh but more lowkey) so cute pics of him is like… currency (Mammon WISHES he thought of this first)

Bonus:

Luke

MC practically adopts him the moment she lays eyes on him-- how could she not? Luke may as well be her other son

Luke can’t say no, especially after she saves him from Lucifer

Definitely calls her mom by accident and the brothers tease him-- only for him to retort back that “don’t you ALL call her by mom?” and they shut up lol

Simeon still gets to tease Luke though heheh

Really really really tries hard not to refer to MC as mom, but it slips out sometimes and no one even bats an eye

Baking together is such a family bonding moment

Treats MC’s son most like his younger brother almost automatically and makes sure he doesn’t get into any trouble while he’s taking care of him (though he does anyways)

Kind of likes the responsibility of babysitting MC’s son; makes him feel trusted

(MC takes the cutest pics of them together when they fall asleep; starts thinking about maybe having another child wouldn’t be so bad)

#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me luke #shall we date? obey me!

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markoslostgirl · 3 years

Text

𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏' 𝑼𝒑 (𝑩𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑺. 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏, 𝑬𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒆)

Requested by: @ringa-starr

Pairing: Bill S. Preston, Esquire x fem!oc

Word count: 2,110 words

Warnings: none, I think? Unless you count fluff

Summary: Bill’s girlfriend, Deidra, is sick, so Bill takes care of her

Author’s note: I feel so honored to write this for my friend, and I had a fun time writing it since we love the curly-haired angel, Bill S. Preston, Esquire. I’ve been working on this for 5-6 months, but I honestly think I could’ve done a better job with it so don’t come at me. Deidra, I hope you love it, and that you enjoy reading it. GIF isn’t mine, and it holds no significance to the imagine. I just couldn’t find one suitable.

Deidra sat up in her bed, letting out a sigh as she glanced up at the ceiling in boredom. She was sick, feeling miserable beyond compare. It wasn’t allergies, or even the flu. No, it was just a measly cold. Okay, so maybe she had made the most foolish decision of falling asleep with her hair wet while the air conditioner was running full blast.

Saturday had been a particularly hot day in San Dimas. Of course, it was always hot, but the one day on the weekend was uncomfortable. So, Deidra, her boyfriend—Bill S. Preston, Esquire—and her best friend, Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan, went to Waterloo to beat the heat.

Bill and Deidra had been dating for months now, and it had gone incredible. The first time Deidra had met Bill, she instantly became captivated by his sweet demeanor and charismatic personality. She gravitated toward him as if it were like a magnetic force pulling her in. Deidra didn’t know what it was, but there was just something about him she found so...alluring. Bill was boisterous and endearing, as well as goofy. He never failed to make her smile or laugh at his goofy jokes.

Deidra also had become entranced by the way he spoke every word with such genuine innocence, and it made her heart flutter. His beautiful, forest green eyes held such optimism, always sparkling with excitement. He had incredibly golden, curly hair, and cheeks dusted with a naturally rosy blush. His bright, cheeky grin was adorable, and it made Deidra’s soul lift up out of her body every time he flashed his Cheshire grin whenever he spoke. She was convinced he was the Greek God Apollo.

Since Deidra had been holed up in her room for days, she was about to go insane due to the palpable tediousness. While she kept herself busy watching reruns of “I love Lucy” and “The Brady Bunch”, or listening to music, she could only tolerate so much in order not to grow lack of interest.

Deidra hadn’t been able to see Bill, since she spent half of her time with him at Ted’s house watching them practice. She missed hanging out and spending time with them outside of school. The trio were a tight knit group, always together as they kicked around having the time of their lives. Other than spending time in Ted’s garage, Deidra spent the other half of her time at her house with Bill or going on dates with him on their own time. So, the time she had to stay away from him was the most heinous thing ever.

Bill was incredibly charming—always planning the most creative, romantic gestures for Deidra in his own special ways with the help of Ted, of course. It never failed to make Deidra melt at just how much of a gentleman Bill was. He always took her on cute, simple dates—whether it’s to the mall, Waterloo, or even McDonald’s. They spent time together as much as possible since they always had the most fun of times.

Deidra let out a yawn as she laid back down, stretching her aching limbs out wide at her sides. A loud sneeze erupted from her nose, causing her to groan and let her head fall back on the pillow due to the heavy weight on her head from lifting it up. She reached over and grabbed a tissue out of the box on the nightstand, blowing her nose before tossing the tissue in the small bin beside the nightstand her mom had placed there.

Deidra sniffed, staring back up at the ceiling with watery eyes as Elvis played faintly in the background. The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, filling her with panic. Both of her parents were at work, and if they were home, they would let her know as soon as they stepped foot inside the house. All of the sudden, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway, filling her with relief.

“Greetings, my most bodacious babe Dee!” Bill exclaimed, his arms full of what appears to be food, games, and medicine. Bill had rushed over, filled with worry once he heard how sick Deidra was over the phone, and he wanted to take care of her instantly. “I brought some things I know you’d enjoy during your time of need.”

Her whole face lit up, her eyes twinkling. “Bill!” Deidra croaked, her voice raw from the amount of coughing she had been doing. “What are you doing here?” She asked. “I’m sick, which means you’re not allowed to be here,” she told him, a frown on her face.

“Dee, babe, I haven’t been able to see you for days,” Bill reminded Deidra. “I’ve really missed you, and I know you must be going insane trapped in your room. I figured I’d come cheer you up,” he admitted as he stepped inside the room.

Deidra smiled at his sweet confession. Bill always went out of his way to do things like this for the people he absolutely cared about, including Deidra and Ted. This was just the kind of guy Bill was, and it made her fall in love with him even more.

“I really appreciate it, Bill,” Deidra told bill, honesty in her voice. “I’m sick. I would hate to have you in the same situation, especially because of me. It’s most egregious,” she tried to convince him.

“I’m not going to get sick, you baby” Bill denied with a playful glare, causing Deidra to roll her eyes with a fond smile at his humor. “Just let me take care of you until you’re a hundred percent better again,” bill insisted before placing the items on the bed.

Deidra felt a stinging itch radiating from her throat, causing her to hack violently into her arm. The sensation of her throat feeling like it had been ripped to tiny shreds by a chainsaw was searing in waves of splitting pain. Once the coughing ceased, she squeezed her eyes shut as a sigh escaped past her lips.

Shrugging off his shoes in a lethargic way, Bill sat down beside Deidra, a concerned look etched on his face. He couldn’t help but notice her pale skin, the dark circles underneath her eyes, or her nose red with irritation. The look of pure misery vanished once bill placed a feathery, soft kiss on her forehead.

“Dee, you’re burning up!” Bill voiced as he pulled away, placing a cool hand on Deidra’s forehead, causing her to shiver due to how warm her body felt. Bill brushed the stray, baby hairs away from her forehead. “You stay here, babe. I’m gonna go and make you some soup,” he stood up from the bed with a smile before retreating downstairs to the kitchen.

A small grin graced Deidra’s lips, finding how adorable and sweet it was for Bill to become worried, especially whenever it came to her. Even at his own risk, Bill was a deeply compassionate person by helping when Deidra was in distress. She couldn’t help but feel naturally content, delighted, and safe in his presence.

Deidra crawled out from the warm cocoon of her bed, moving toward her record player and turning off the music of Elvis. She plopped back down on her bed and pulling back the covers closer up to her neck. It didn’t take long for Bill to finish making the soup, as he made his way back into the room, carefully holding a bowl of soup and a spoon. Deidra sniffed the air, the delicious smell of the soup wafting through her nose.

“Here you go, babe,” Bill softly spoke, carefully handing his girlfriend the bowl of hot contents and a spoon. “You need to eat a little bit so you can take your medicine.”

Deidra settled the bowl on her lap, the weight of the bowl full of soup feeling heavy in her hands. She placed one hand around the bowl, her index finger resting on the rim to keep it steady on her lap. Timidly, she took a spoonful of soup, bringing it up to her mouth and carefully blowing on it before taking a bite.

Deidra shivered at the warm feeling flowing through her body from the hot soup. Bill took his place beside her as he watched her continue to eat the soup. Noticing his beloved was almost finished, bill took the spoon and guided it to her lips.

Deidra blushed, eyeing the spoon bill was holding up to her lips. Bill often fed her from time to time, whenever they went on dates, but this time it was obviously under different circumstances. She was more vulnerable. Of course, neither of them seemed to mind, as it was a loving gesture bill did with patience.

The curly-haired angel pushed the spoon past the girl’s lips, letting her finish the last bite of soup. She leaned over, placing the bowl next to the cup of tea she had made a while ago, already sure to be cold now. Deidra glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, knowing it was time to take her medicine once again.

After she finished taking her medicine, Deidra grabbed the bottle half full of water and took a big sip of it to wash the horrid taste down. She eased herself back under the covers in order to lie down, sighing in content from the warmth the soup and the covers provided her with.

Bill outstretched his arms for Deidra to envelop herself into his embrace, causing fear to cross her face as she shook her head in protest. “Bill, no, I don’t want you to risk yourself more than you already have.”

“I don’t care,“ Bill excused. “Just let me hold you.” Deidra bored her eyes into her boyfriend, biting her lip as Bill fluttered his eyelashes with an expectant smile before shuffling closer to him and curling into his chest. He gazed into her eyes with such fondness, causing a flush to creep up her face as she knew he was thinking of her.

“I’m only doing it because you’re cute,” Deidra commented, causing bill to form a smirk on his lips once he took notice of her sticking her nose in the air.

A moment of silence passed before bill spoke up. “Do you feel a little better, Dee?” Bill asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. The warmth from the blankets combined with the heat from cuddling up to Bill enveloped her with a blanket of comfort. “Are you warm enough?”

The brown-haired girl hummed, nodding her head. “You’re soft and warm,” she murmured. “I don’t want you to move.” Bill did manage to make her feel a little better than how she was feeling before. He lifted her spirits once he showed up, so needless to say, she wasn’t feeling as miserable as she had been. “I’m so glad you came over. Any time without you is far too long.”

Her voice dripped with exhaustion from the medicine, the state of drowse sinking in as a side effect. Bill’s mouth lifted up into a smile as he played with Deidra’s hair, tracing through her long, wavy locks softly with his fingers.

“Don’t stop...” Deidra mumbled in a languid tone, causing bill to hum in question. “Your fingers in my hair,” the girl clarified. “Feels really nice...”

“You’re adorable,” Bill crooned, his mouth curving into a soft smile. “You know I’ll always be here, right?” Bill quietly vowed in a gentle tone, causing Deidra to hum in content. There were times where Bill struggled with expressing how he felt about the green-eyed girl, but they both knew he loved her so much.

As the day progressed, Bill made sure Deidra consumed her medicine regularly when she was supposed to. After watching Lady and the Tramp and playing board games, Bill and Deidra started reading together. Bill absentmindedly tangled his fingers through the dark tresses and down her back as he reads to her in a soft voice.

Bill peered down at Deidra, only to see she had dozed off once he noticed her eyelids flutter shut. The corners of his mouth twitched up as he gazed down at her, before closing the book and pulling her closer to him. He nuzzled his face into her hair, before placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head.

“I love you,” Bill whispered softly into her ear. “I hope you know this.”

“I love you, too,” Deidra declared, her voice just barely touched of a whisper. It nearly would have been too silent, yet bill had heard it loudly by the tiny grin curving on the corners of his lips. It just reminded how in love he fell with her more everyday.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

So, that’s it for this imagine! Bill is so cute, and as a Bill girl, I wish I lived in a universe where I was sick so he could take care of me! What do you think? Like I mentioned before, I really think I could have done a better job with this. I’m honored my best friend Deidra came to me to write this, and I hope I did it justice!

With love, from Audrey <3

#bill s preston esquire imagine #bill s preston esquire #bill s preston esquire x reader #bill and ted imagine #bill and ted #bill and teds excellent adventure #bill and teds bogus journey #alex winter

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