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lordprettyflackotara · 6 months

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Mr.Right || Colby Brock

smut, 18+, minors dni | a/n: it’s about time i wrote about my bby colby. ps i got a new xplr hoodie today at zumiez, i’m so fuckin happy. enjoy lovely’s <3

You couldn’t do it anymore.

Ideally you had the perfect life. Perfect house, neighbors, job. You had more money than you knew what to do with, causing you to lose your passion to make a life for yourself.

You even had the perfect husband, Mr.Right. He was always attentive to you, worshipping the ground you walked on. You stared down at your wedding ring, the obnoxiously large diamond shining in the dim bar lighting.

You told your husband you were going out with your friends, but truth was you needed to get away from all of it. All of the glamour and flattery. This lifestyle was all you were supposed to want, the reoccurring thought haunting you.

Why didn’t it satisfy you?

“Come here often?”

Your gaze lifted from your glass, curiously landing on the man beside you. You were almost unsure of how he got into this bar, his leather jacket throwing off your response. Your eyes finally met his, his blue orbs practically absorbing you.

You cleared your throat, stirring your drink in a bored manner. “Thats a corny line you know,” You say dryly, looking away from the man. He pulled up a chair beside you, making himself comfortable.

“My name is Colby. Let me buy you a drink,”

You lifted up your hand, showing off your wedding ring.

“I’m married, sorry,”

Colby examined your wedding ring, the real authentic jewel not impressing him.

“Where is he?” Colby asked. You arched your eyebrows, finally looking at him again. “Where’s who?” You questioned. Colby smirked, gesturing to your wedding ring. “Mr.Right. I’d love to meet him,” Colby chuckled. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks, your eyes widening slightly. Colby called over the bartender, ordering two shots of one of the most expensive tequilas on the menu.

“You don’t have to say anything. I see. Mr.Right isn’t so right after all,” Colby said, purposefully waiting until the bartender was out of earshot. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at the cocky man in the leather jacket. “You don’t even know me,” You argued. The bartender gave you both a small smile, placing the shots in front of you.

“Put everything she’s had on my tab,”

You rolled your eyes. “What exactly are you playing at? How did you even get in here?” You spat. Colby shrugged, downing his shot with ease. He sat the shot glass back down on the counter, challenging your hardened gaze. You picked up your shot, downing the firey liquid as best as you could. Even after drinking the best of the best, alcohol never came easy to you.

“It’s the way he fucks you, isn’t it?”

You forced yourself to swallow the shot, coughing. You swallowed hard, trying to regain composure.

It wasn’t what Colby said that bothered you, it was the fact he was right. Your husband was vanilla, afraid of experimenting in the bedroom in any capacity. Your marriage was strictly monogamous, your needs never fully being fulfilled. You had cravings and desires he refused to meet, insisting they were foolish fantasies he ‘knew’ would fade over time.

It was the only aspect he lacked in your relationship and you just couldn’t get over it.

“You don’t have to answer me, I can tell by the look on your face you haven’t gotten good dick in a long time,” Colby smirked. You stared at him in disbelief, unable to form a proper response. This delinquent had somehow read you like a book, your eyes trailing down to his hands. Rings decorated his long, slender fingers, while his veins were prominent against his tan skin.

“So, what’s your point? You’re offering to fuck me? I’m not going to pay for sex,” You reply flatly. Colby leaned forward, his mouth next to your ear. You shuddered as his hot breath hit your skin, his fingers brushing some stray hairs behind your ear. “I don’t want your money. All I want is to hear you scream my name and beg for me. I have a place nearby,” Colby purred. Your thighs clenched, butterflies rummaging through your stomach. As if on que, Colby’s offer continued,

“You seem so eager, maybe we shouldn’t wait,”

You swallowed hard, his words alone causing your cheeks to flush red.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” You quietly agreed, thoughts of all the things he could do to you running through your mind. Colby smirked as he leaned away from you, tossing random bills onto the counter. He grabbed your hand, helping you off of the barstool and guiding you down one of many hallways that existed in this bar. You were surprised that for a bar so exclusive, Colby seemed to know exactly where he was going.

He pushed open the men’s bathroom door, revealing several rows of sinks and stalls. “In here? You can’t be serious. This is absolutely ridiculous-” You argued. Colby shut the door behind you, locking it with ease. In a swift motion he pushed you against the door, his arms pinning you against the cool metal. “No one’s going to interrupt us, trust me. If you want to cum I highly suggest you get on your fucking knees,” Colby said. His eyes studied yours intently, ensuring every move he made was something you could handle.

You slid down to your knees, cringing as your knees hit the cool marble floor. “Stick out your tongue,” Colby ordered, undoing his belt. You could hear the metal clinking as you maintained eye contact with him, doing as you were told. Your thoughts wondered off to what else he could do with that belt, the idea making you rub your thighs together. You flattened your tongue, Colby instinctively licking his lips as he took out his cock. “I assume you’ve had no throat training?” Colby asked curiously. You shook your head no, causing him to give you a playful smile.

“We’ll fix that later, now suck me off whore,”

You took Colby into your mouth, his size preventing him from fully fitting. You bobbed your head on his cock, using one of your hands to help jerk off the length you couldn’t fit. “Nuh uh, no hands. Put em behind your back,” Colby huffed. You slowly put your hands behind your back as instructed, continuing to suck him off as best as you could. The size of his cock was beginning to make your jaw hurt, his tip just almost hitting the back of your throat. Colby admired your efforts, his cock in your mouth one of the hottest things he had ever seen. But he knew you needed guidance.

He reached down, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Relax your jaw for me,” He muttered. You forced your jaw to go slack, Colby’s hips now bucking into you. You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat, Colby’s groans echoing off of the bathroom walls. You felt so filthy, on your knees in a public bathroom, letting a delinquent use your throat as he pleased. But you fucking loved it.

You felt tears flooding your waterline, the salty teardrops dripping down your cheeks as Colby continued using your mouth. “Fuck, you’re fucking hot,” Colby praised, removing his cock out of your mouth. You gasped for air, saliva beginning to drip down your chin. “Cmere baby,” Colby ordered. You grabbed his hand, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was ruined, your mascara trailing down your cheeks. Colby didn’t seem phased it, if anything he looked as if he thought you were prettier than before.

“Hi pretty girl, turn around for me,” Colby purred. He used his thumb to wipe away your tears, his other hand helping you turn around. Colby lifted up your dress with ease as you leaned against the bathroom counter on your shoulders. “I want you to watch yourself as I make you cum on my fingers. If you look away i’ll stop. Understand?” Colby asked sharply. He caressed your ass, tracing the sensitive flesh with his fingertips.

“I understand,” You whimpered, cool air rushing between your thighs as Colby slid your panties down. Your face was pink, your mouth forming into the shape of an O as Colby slid the first finger inside of you. He curled it, causing you let out a desperate groan. Your body craved more, your walls squeezing him, searching for friction. “You’re doing so good for me, good girl,” Colby praised, sliding another finger inside of you.

He curled his fingers upwards, causing you to grip the sink as you moaned his name. “I see, you like that huh?” Colby asked mockingly, before picking up the pace. Your husband had truly neglected you sexually, Colby had figured out that much. The way you looked as if you were in a state of bliss just from his fingers alone made him wonder how you’d react when he fucked you senseless.

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, the pleasure almost overwhelming. Colby’s fingers were fast and ruthless. He never seemed to tire, your legs beginning to shake as he added in a third finger. “It’s okay, look at me,” Colby told you, slowing down his pace. You looked up at him in the mirror, his ocean eyes absorbing every little detail about your facial expression. He was slowly curling his fingers inside of you, your walls clenching around him. “Does it hurt? We can stop-” Colby began, concern dashing across his face. His fingers had come to an abrupt halt, no longer hitting your g spot but instead staying still.

Your plea cut him off, your desperation to cum overshadowing any ounce of dignity.

“Please don’t stop, please, feels so fucking good,” You whined, pushing your hips against his hand. You weren’t used to begging, never having to ask for anything to be done for you. But fuck, you loved begging him like this. Colby smirked at your reaction, his fingers curling inside of your dripping cunt. His other hand flew to your hair, yanking it towards him.

You arched your back as he held onto your hair, pain shooting down your scalp and spine as he continued to abuse your g spot with his fingers. “You look so filthy like this. You’re such a dirty slut for me,” Colby muttered into your ear, his name leaving your lips like a mantra. You gripped onto the sink for support, babbling incoherent curses.

“What are you? Say it or i’ll stop,” Colby threatened, watching your expression in the mirror. You were determined to listen, what little consciousness you had telling you to focus on yourself in the mirror.

“I’m a dirty slut,” You moaned pathetically, the knot in your stomach forming as you spewed the humiliating words.

Colby smirked, sensing your walls clenching around him. You were practically begging for his cock.

He yanked your hair again, causing you to whimper.

“Whose dirty slut are you?” Colby countered, relishing in seeing you humiliate yourself.

“I’m your dirty slut, i’m gonna cum, please-” You babbled, unsure what you were even begging for.

Colby held you steady as you came, an unfamiliar euphoria blinding your senses. You gripped onto the counter so hard your knuckles were turning white, your thighs trembling as your juices coated Colby’s fingers. He admired them in front of you, releasing your hair and sucking them clean.

“You taste so sweet, next time i’ll have you cum on my face,” Colby purred. You chuckled as he turned you around, his lips meeting yours. His kisses were rougher than your husband’s, his lips never able to fully keep up with your desperate ones. Colby liked it rough and he knew without a shadow of doubt, you did too.

You could taste mint and the faintest taste of your juices on his tongue as he pressed you against the bathroom sink. Colby pulled away briefly, his eyes meeting yours.

“You want this cock baby?”

“Yeah-”

Knock knock knock.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clinging onto Colby as the bathroom door shook.

“This is a public bathroom! Get a room!”

You were stunned and silent, afraid the intruder would knew who you were once you left. Colby was quick on his feet, wiping away your ruined makeup and helping you pull your panties up. You were far from presentable, your hair messy, lips puffy, and cunt drenching your panties. Colby pulled your dress down, leaning close to your ear.

“When I unlock the door, leave, i’ll make sure the guy out there never saw you,” Colby whispered. The intruder continued pounding on the bathroom door, causing Colby to sigh. He redressed himself, running his fingers through his ruffled brunette hair.

“Hotel six on main street, meet me there Friday at seven. I’ll be in room 717,” Colby said, heading over towards the door. You nodded as confidently as you could, exiting the bathroom and brushing past the stranger. You could feel curious eyes burning holes into your back, guilt flooding you as you walked down the hallway.

Your mind swirled with thoughts as you called your personal driver to pick you up, exiting the bar as quickly as you could as to not be affiliated with Colby. As you stood outside and lit a cigarette all you could think was one thing: You needed to be at hotel six on Friday, no matter what.

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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traveler-at-heart · 10 months

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The Tooth Fairy

Summary: Your daughter gets a generous visit.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Sorry for the weird format, I’m on my phone. Also, fun game, drink everytime you find the word fairy in this fic 🧚

“Mom!”

Your daughhter’s scream puts you immediately on edge.

Her voice is quivering, as if she’s not sure she should be crying over what’s happening.

“What is it, sweetie?” you kneel next to her on the playground, mentally counting all her fingers and checking for injuries. You have to stay calm for her sake.

“My tooth fell off” Anya says, showing it to you. “Does this mean that I can’t eat chocolate anymore?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine” you pick her up and carry her to the park bench. “These are called baby teeth. They’ll fall off and then you’ll get your new ones. And those are for good.”

“Promise?”

“Well, yes. Unless you eat too much chocolate. Then you’ll get cavities”

Anya keeps looking at the tooth in her hand and then offers it to you. Closing one eye, you examine it as if it were a diamond.

“The tooth fairy is gonna be real happy with this one”

“There’s a fairy?” Anya perks up and you smile.

“Oh, yes. You have to leave it under your pillow with a small note and then they’ll pick it up. Leave you a dollar or two if they think it’s a good tooth”

“I wanna write the note, can we go home now?”

“Yes, sweetie” you carry her, relieved now that Anya seems happier.

—-

It’s not an easy task, but you persuade Anya to wait for her other mom to write the note. You’re sure Natasha wouldn’t wanna miss it.

After all, this is the same woman that almost cried when she was away on a mission and your daughter sneezed for the first time.

“I’m home” you hear the door open and close. Anya smiles, eager to tell her mom about the highlight of the day.

“Mama” she jumps to her arms, wavy red hair flying as Natasha catches her.

“Someone is very happy to see me”

“I’m happy to see you too” you say, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss.

“Then why aren’t you jumping into my arms?”

“Mama, I’m going to meet the tooth fairy!” Anya interrupts you, pulling her tooth from the pocket of her pants.

“Your first tooth? And I missed it?”

Damn it, she’s gonna cry again. You can’t have that.

“Baby, you didn’t miss it. Anya still has to write a letter. She’s been waiting for you”

“Yeah, come on” Anya bounces on her arms, encouraging Natasha to go to the living room.

“I’ll work on dinner while you two do that, ok?” you kiss Natasha’s cheek and let her enjoy the time with Anya.

From your spot on the kitchen, you can hear Anya asking all sorts of questions about the fairy lore.

She’s a smart kid, so all Natasha does is hand her the crayons she requests. Anya falls silent, and then begins to write the letter.

“All done?” your wife says and Anya covers the sheet of paper with her tiny hands.

“This is a secret letter”

Natasha looks at you, both struggling to hold your smiles.

“Dinner’s ready” you announce, serving pasta.

Anya giggles when the spaguetti goes through the whole her tooth left.

“Baby, don’t play with your food like that” you scold. Then you turn to Natasha for support, only to find her creating a spaguetti mustache that leaves her face full of sauce. “Honestly, Natalia”

“Mama is in trouble” Anya laughs.

“She’s doing the dishes, that’s for sure” you agree.

After dinner, Natasha prepares a bath for Anya while you clean the kitchen. You both know you’re too obsessive to leave the cleaning to anyone else.

You go to the study to write a small thank you note for Anya from the tooth fairy. You even add some glitter for extra flare.

Tucking it in the back of your pocket, you walk into your daughter’s room to wish her goodnight.

“Is it under your pillow?” you check and she nods, yawning.

“I wanna wait for them”

“Oh, the fairy only shows up when you’re asleep, darling. Like Santa”

“Are they friends?” Anya says, quickly falling asleep.

“Yeah, you could say they’re practically the same person” Natasha whispers and you nudge her with your elbow. Anya is already asleep, so it doesn’t really matter if she heard that last part.

Quietly, you take the letter from under her bed and place yours instead.

“Why are your hands all shiny?” Natasha asks as you’re getting ready for bed.

“Welll, I am a fairy, baby. Haven’t you heard?” you tap the tip of her nose, leaving some glitter on it.

“I’m happy I was here for this” Natasha says against your shoulder as you cuddle.

“Me too” you say, your eyelids heavy. “Oh, crap. I forgot to leave the money under Anya’s pillow”

“That’s ok, I’ll do it”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You’re the stealthy spy here” you smile when Natasha kisses your neck and leaves the bed. You’re so tired you fall asleep before she comes back.

—

The smell of coffee wakes you up.

Coffee and pancakes. Stretching, you get out of bed, feeling relaxed and happy.

“Hey, baby” you greet your wife, admiring her toned arm muscles accentuated by the white tank top.

“Morning, detka” she smiles, adding more pancakes to the plate next to the stove. “Breakfast is ready”

“I’m hungry for other things” you lift the edge of her tank top, scratching Natasha’s abs with your nails. She follows your lead, tilting her head and parting her lips to let your tongue explore her mouth.

“Mom, mama!” Anya says, running out of her room. You sigh against Natasha’s lips and step away. “They were here! I woke up and there was a letter with some glitter”

“That’s awesome, sweetie” you smile, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You turn to your daughter as you take a sip.

“And look! She left me this!”

Anya waves a hundred dollar bill in front of you, making you choke on your coffee.

“Wow, that fairy won the lottery since the last time I saw her” you catch your breath.

“Is this enough to buy a pony?”

“No, darling. Go set the table, I’ll bring you some juice and pancakes, ok?”

“Can I watch tv while having breakfast?”

“Fine” Natasha answers and you wait for your daughter to be out of earshot to talk to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, baby, did you leave all that money for Anya?”

“Yes, I didn’t know how much to put and you were asleep”

“Ok, for future reference, five bucks is more than fine” you smile, placing your hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she looks defeated and you try to cheer her up.

“Don’t be, it’s fine. We’ll use the savings we have for the rest of the teeh and then send her to community college”

“Stop!” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s ok” you kiss her softly. “We’ll tell her that the fairy had to pay her mortgage and is broke. I’ll even add less glitter on the next letter”

“You’re taking this glitter thing too seriously”

“Well, we have to rely on Alexei to play Santa. At least I get to have some fun with this”

—

Later that day, as your friends get together for a barbecue, Anya shows everyone the place where her tooth once was; luckily, she left the money at home.

That doesn’t stop Billy and Tommy from finding out. Pretty soon, they’re asking their mom about the tooth fairy and if there’s a special deal for twins.

“They left 100 dollars for Anya” Billy shouts and everyone falls silent.

“Oh, wow. Maybe the fairy can visit me as well” Sam smiles. You kick him under the table.

Unfortunately for Natasha, you have to explain everything when Wanda convinces the twins to go back to play.

“Don’t sweat it, Red. Everything’s so expensive nowadays, it’s only fair Anya starts saving now”

“Oh, you’re one to talk” Pepper points at Tony. “He left a blank check under Morgan’s pillow the first time she lost a tooth”

Everyone laughs at that, Tony adjusting in his seat.

“Would you like to adopt me?” Sam asks after a minute.

—

“I got the door” you whisper. Natasha is carrying Anya to her room. It was a fun afternoon of playing with friends and then doing the math on how many plushies she could get with all that money.

She’s fast asleep, and you wait by the door as Natasha tucks her in.

“You ok?” you want to double check, knowing she can be insecure about motherhood.

“I just wish I knew everything”

“Well, so do I. I wish I knew how to stay calm. Remember last week when she hurt her hand with the stove? I thought I was going to throw up and you handled it while I panicked”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s a lot, Tasha. We love you. And we need you” you kiss her softly and she smiles against your lips.

“Wanna read the letter?” you offer once you’re settled in bed. Your wife nods and you take it out of your nighstand. “Dear Miss Fairy - very formal. This is my tooth, it felll off while I was playing. Mom told me you take them and leave some money. My Mama helped me draw this. I love my moms and I want to buy them ice cream and chocolate with the money you give me. Hugs, Anya Romanoff”

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You both are” Natasha says as you cuddle, kissing her neck.

“We love you”

“So, what do we do next time?”

“We tell her the fairy is getting heer a car at 16 and hopefully she’ll forget about it by then” you smile, confident.

Of course, she doesn’t.

#natasha romanoflf x you #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader

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companionjones · 1 year

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Love is in the Air (Why Didn’t You Tell Me?)

Pairing: Beck Oliver x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Victorious (Nickelodeon)

Summary: Based on the episode of Victorious “Beggin’ on Your Knees,” where you take the place of Tori. Some things are changed.

Warnings: None that I can think of

Y/n=Your name

W/n=Wrong name

*******

Love was in the air at Hollywood Arts, and you absolutely hated it. You sat on the stairs in the main hallway and watched all the main couples of the school go about their day.

Trina came into view. She was running after Jade. “Babe! I said I was sorry!”

Jade’s jaw tightened as she turned back around to her girlfriend. “You walked in on my auditions!”

“I’m sorry! You know how I get! I see an opportunity and I just gotta take it. Y’know?”

Her words didn’t soothe Jade’s anger. “My audition isn’t your opportunity!”

Trina paused for a moment. “Well, yeah. I know that now...Listen what if I buy you those new scissors you wanted?”

That seemed to immediately resolve a lot of Jade’s resentment. “...The ones that are diamond encrusted?”

“The very same,” Trina nodded. “Do you like me again?”

Jade took a step up to Trina, took her hand, and kissed her cheek. “Maybe...”

The two walked off together.

“Whatcha doin’?” Beck was suddenly looming over you.

You turned around to look at him. “Wallowing in my loneliness.” You turned back around and rested your head on your hands.

“...That sounds like fun,” Beck responded, not knowing what else to say.

“Robbie!!! Robbie!!!” Cat burst onto the scene by running down the stairs and screaming bloody murder for Robbie. She reached the middle of the main hallway and released her loudest scream yet. “ROBBIE SHAPIRO!!!”

The boy came sprinting into view on Cat’s right. “What? What is it? Everyone’s telling me you’re looking for me, Cat. Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” Cat answered, much calmer than before.

“Then what is it?” Robbie asked, still very concerned.

Cat’s response was simple: “I missed you.” She then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Robbie’s torso.

Robbie let his head rest on top of hers. Probably to equally revel in her cuteness and insanity. “I...I missed you too, sweetheart...But next time, maybe try calling me on the phone...” His voice trailed off as he and Cat walked away.

“Hey, guys.” Tori approached you and Beck, hand-in-hand with André.

You immediately rolled your eyes. “Here we go. Yet another couple to rub their happiness in my face.”

“I’m sorry?” Tori wasn’t sure if she should’ve apologised for her happiness.

“What’s with the sour attitude?” André wondered. When he and Tori came to a stop, he traded holding hands with her with putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Nothing’s up. Right, Y/n?” Beck answered for you. Before you could respond to Beck, he asked the three of you, “You guys wanna get lunch?”

Both Tori and André nodded. “Sure.”

Beck grabbed your hand. “You’re coming too. C’mon.” He dragged you along with him.

Outside, you were mainly focusing on your food, which was why you didn’t notice, at first, a guy walk up next to you. When you did notice him, you saw that he wasn’t just a guy, he was Ryder Daniels, a senior. A really hot senior at that. He was talking to you.

“Hey. It’s W/n, right?”

“Y/n.” Beck corrected without looking up from his meal.

Ryder cleared his throat. “Y/n, right. How are you doing?”

“I-I’m doing okay...How are you?”

Ryder smiled at you. “I’m good. So, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?”

You felt your eyes widen. “With me?”

Vaguely, you heard Beck go, “With her?”

Ryder gave a weird look to Beck. “Yeah...” He turned back to you. “What do you think?”

“Uh, s-sure.” You had to physically push the word out.

“Great.” Ryder grinned and walked away.

“Great!” you called after him, then turned back to your friends. “What just happened?”

Tori was the first to answer. “What do you think just happened? You got a date!”

Your heart was beating out of your chest. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes!” André congratulated you. “Be happy, Y/n!”

You were pretty sure that was what you were feeling. Your heart wouldn’t slow down to tell you anything else.

That night, you had just finished a pretty fun night with Ryder. You couldn’t believe it, but you were pretty sure you had just fallen into your first relationship.

There was a knock at your door.

You walked toward it, confused. “Ryder? Did you forget something?” You opened your door to find not Ryder. “Beck?”

“I don’t like this.” He came marching into your home.

Your confusion only grew. “Don’t like what?”

He jumped onto another subject. “How was your date?”

“It went fine. We’re doing the Full Moon Jam together. Is this what you’re upset about?” you wondered.

Beck’s jaw clenched. “Maybe.”

“Why?” You were flabbergast.

He thought for a second. “I don’t-I don’t know, but I just don’t like the idea of you with someone else--”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shrieked. “All this time, I’ve been alone, Beck. So I swear to god, if you tell me you like me now--”

“I don’t like you!” he shouted back. “I just don’t want to see you with him! I don’t want to see you with anyone unless it’s m--” Beck immediately stopped talking as realisation dawned on his face.

“...Get out,” was all you had to say.

Beck hung his head as he followed your order.

And just like that, you were left alone.

The next day, you were excited to see Ryder again. You were excited to see anyone that could distract you from Beck. You decided to meet Ryder at his locker.

You were about to round the corner when you heard Ryder talking to one of his friends.

“Hey, Ryder. Congratulations! I heard you’re dating that one girl--What is it--W/n?”

“Yeah. Only until she gets me an A on this Full Moon Jam assignment. Then you can have her.”

That was all it took to have you booking it in the other direction.

You weren’t sure how many hours you spent in the janitor’s closet, but you were pretty sure you’d heard the bell ring three times. You weren’t willing to do the math.

Suddenly, the door to the closet burst open. “There you are!” Beck called out, relieved. “Jesus, I’ve got everyone looking for you, y’know...Y/n?”

“He’s using me,” you tearfully informed, “He’s using me to get a good grade on the Full Moon Jam assignment, then he’s gonna dump me.”

Beck didn’t know what to say, “Oh, Y/n.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You sprung to your feet.

He thought you were talking about Ryder. “I didn’t know--”

“Not about him. Why didn’t you tell me you liked me before all this mess?”

Beck was ashamed. “I didn’t know about that either until Ryder asked you out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me--?” Your sobs cut you off. You started crumpling into yourself until Beck enveloped you in a hug.

For some reason, life didn’t seem so bad anymore. You hugged him back. The tears kept falling.

“I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again,” Beck whispered, “Whether I have you or not. No one will ever treat you like this again--”

You kissed him.

It was an intense kiss. Beck roughly backed you against some drawers, and you forcefully ran your fingers through Beck’s hair.

Eventually, you two had to part for air, and you just smiled.

“What’s the smile about?” Beck asked. His expression matched yours.

“Oh, a few things,” you answered teasingly. You kissed him again. “I think I know how to get revenge on Ryder, and I’m gonna need your help.

“Anything,” Beck promised you.

“Good,” you grinned, and kissed him again.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you!

#beck #beck x reader #beck oliver #beck oliver x reader #victorious #victorious nickelodeon #avan jogia #companion jones #love is in the air (why didn't you tell me?)#love is in the air #why didn't you tell me

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importantgalaxyrunaway · 9 months

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the snap (Matt Murdock x fem-reader )

Summary: after the blip Matt was blipped away. But what happens when he shows up after everyone comes back?

Part 2 Warnings: angst, I mean it this time ok? I teared up writing this. But with fluff it has a happy ending trust me. Im dyslexic so there are probably/definitely going to be spelling errors. (I’m trying yall. Let me know how I did my first fic for Matt I think I’m going to make a part 2. Please comment if you can and reblog are appreciated if you want ❤️) mentions of pregnancy and childbirth and children

My eyes take in the childrens bedroom. It was small and quant but cozy. The nightlights lit up the room and my five year old daughter was layed down on the soft pastel blankets. I sit down on the side of her bed. She was so beautiful, her sweet brown eyes and brown hair. Her name was angel Murdock, She resembled Matt so much, sometimes it even hurt to look at her. It showed his best attributes on her. Even though she was only five years old she was already fearless, the teachers at the preschool always say she’s already getting in fights with the bullies in the class, no fist fights yet thankfully. It was her bedtime so you were finishing up reading a story to her about a princess and prince who fought a dragon.

“And they lived happily ever after the end” I kiss her forehead. And get up from her sleepy form.

“mommy, why do all the other kids have dads?”

Her question struck me in the heart. Leaving a wound size I couldn’t even patch up after patching up so many of Matt’s wounds. But I remain calm and collected like her words were just a simple question. Which they were, she’s just a curious child, there is no way that she knows how deeply I am affected by them. I twist my diamond ring on my finger and bite my lip trying to figure out how to answer this question without terrifying her. I can’t lie to her, I promised I would never lie to her.

“Angel, your father….went away. Hes gone he went with another half of the universe”

“will he be comeback?”

“no, no he won’t” I answered quietly trying to keep myself from sobbing. God I feel so weak, it’s been five years! Fiver years and I still can’t get over his death

“did he leave because of me?”

“no! No, he never knew about you sweetie. He was taken before he knew”

I take a shaky breath and kiss her on the forehead “goodnight” I leave her now asleep form and creep to the kitchen. I look down and the sink and I can’t take it anymore. Grief racks my body as sobs come out in waves. Why? Why did you have to leave I know you didn’t do it on purpose but why? It’s so unfair. Mathew I miss you. I know The city needed but mainly I needed you. I bring my knees up to hug my chest. I feel so weak, so fucking weak it’s been 5 years and I still haven’t recovered. I tpull myself together and wipe my tears mainly because I hear noises outside. A lot of noises. Screams, cries, laughter, sobs. I run to the window and open the curtain. Hundreds and hundreds of people are flooding the streets. Some are hugging, kissing, others are just staring in disbelief. Poeple are running in all directions and so so many of them are confused. Who are these people? Where did they come from? Could they he the ones who were snappe—

Knock! knock! knock!

the noise of someone at my door shattered my trail of thoughts like a broken mirror, breaking me of my trance. Who on earth. Or any planet for that matter would be calling to me at this hour? I tentatively get up. Cross the room and open the door, I was not prepared.

there. Right there stood my husband dead for 5 years after the blip. He stood in his lawyer suit in the doorframe. Just as he was before he left. He’s exactly the same. To him no time has passed at all. But I’m sure he’s heard it’s been 5 years on the streets. My body is rigid from shock utter shock. He takes off his red glasses so I can see his face again. A small gasp escapes my mouth as my eyes lay upon him again. Hes so gorgeous it actually hurts. Makes my heart ache. To say I felt conflicted would be an understatement I was downright a wreck inside. He so damn pretty. Was all I could really think. my shaky hand reaches up and caresses his face as if feeling he’s actually there and this isn’t some hallucination.

“sweetheart, I’m real” he smiles

“I-i Matt you were dead—you-you—oh!” I choke out in sobs

I seizes his head and he walks closer to me closing the door. I kiss him desperately like a woman starved. The kiss is searing and leaves us gasping for air. As soon as we break the seal we dive into it again and I let out a small whimper that allows him to slip his rougue into my mouth. I immediately submit to him and let him take the dominance. After sometime in a log swaying kiss. We stumble towards the couch where he tries to explain to me what happened but with me kissing his neck desperately it’s hard for him. In the five years he was gone I never took a lover. I couldn’t bring myself to. I was always thinking about Mathew even if he was just in the back of my mind. Especially as I walked down the more dangerous streets of Hells kitchen without him.

“sweetheart—sweetheart— “ he lets out a small groan that is music to my ears “are you going to let me know what happened or let me explain” he laughs.

I pull back and bip my lip “sorry”

”I know five years have passed someone on the street told me that after they did I ran to find you I’m sorry—“ his head tilts to the side as if he’s picking up something “there’s another heartbeat in the apartment”

I take his hands “Matt this is a lot to take in I know but….”

“y/n you can tell me anything” the way my name rolls of his toung sounds like honey. He runs his finger over my silk nightgown, his favorite fabric. He takes his time training my figure and them cup up to claps both my hands again “anything”

Reassured now I start my tale “the day of the blip was also the day I found out I was pregnant. Turns out half the universe was blipped away. You’ve been gone for five years now. The pregnancy was hard, half the doctors were gone, you were gone. Without many people to support it was hard but, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, who looks so much like you. I named her angel Murdock.”

he’s silent for a bit. I feel sorry I know how much it is to take in “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you sweetheart. I left you and everyone behind. God I feel so guilty.”

“Mathew there is nothing to apologize for! You couldn’t control it!”

We’re silent for a bit and I wonder if he’s listening to angel’s heartbeat. He beams “I can’t believe I’m a father.” He laughs “ironic isn’t it?”

“what is?”

“the devil is the father of an angel” he muses. His face is bright and happy

“I never thought of it that way” I ponder “she’s already fearless like you”

“Hm, maybe not a good thing. But she sure has the Murdock fighter genes. I’m just sorry I missed the pregnancy and everything”

“well we could always try again?”

“I’d love that” he purrs into my ear in his deep voice. And his head rests in the crook of my neck as he leans into my body. And I’m so so starved for touched after all these years I hold onto him like he’s the last thing in the world. I practically melt into his touch as I haven’t been intimate like this in so long.

“don’t leave me” i whisper

“no sweetheart” his strokes my hair “im never leaving you again”

it feels so comfy with his bodyweight on mine on the couch we don’t even bother to move to the bed as we fall asleep there that night not wanting for a second to leave each other’s arms. It would be hard to explain to to angel who this man she never met was will figure that out in the morning. Things are always better in the morning. No things are always better now that’s he’s back. Everything seems fixed, my whole world.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months

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“CHIAROSCURO” was very well-written! May I request a oneshot of Yuji Itadori within the recent manga chapters? Instead of Choso, the one to protect him from Furnace was the reader, and they have a final “date” in a innate domain of sorts and say their goodbyes before the reader is burned to nothing. Have a good day! 💝

── 1800 DEGREES

Synopsis: By some miracle, you are granted the gift of saying goodbye to Yuji Itadori, one last time.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Itadori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.0k

Content Warnings: jjk spoilers, angst, character death, nobara is dead fr in this, lots of talk about heat (literally not erotically), reader and yuji’s history is left very vague

A/N: it’s actually criminal how long this has been in my inbox omg i’m so sorry!! but i’m glad you liked chiaroscuro anon and i love your mind for angst HEHE i hope this fits what you were going for!! sorry again that it took a bit 😫 also 1800 degrees fahrenheit is the highest temperature that a typical crematorium’s ovens will be set at so uh reference ig 😓 if you were wondering why the title is so odd

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was hot — unbearably so. You could not even sweat, it was that level of scalding, and you knew that within a few moments, you would lose any ability to think, to reason or feel. That meant you had to act now and act quickly, before you lost your final hope at anything resembling a victory.

Yuji, dear Yuji. You had to protect him; it was the only thing you knew, the only thing you could concentrate on as the flames of Sukuna’s Domain licked closer towards you. You could not falter nor flinch. You could only think of him, though this, at least, was nothing difficult — because so many of your thoughts had been occupied by his presence throughout the past year that it was all but a habit at this point for your mind to linger on him.

He was shouting at you. He must’ve been, though you were hardly and dimly aware of it. He never raised his voice at you, but all rules had their exceptions, and this was one such exception, one such circumstance in which even the mild-mannered Yuji Itadori could be driven to screaming at you.

Only your technique could do it. No other would be of sufficient strength to protect against Sukuna’s fire, but this immense power came with a cost: it could only save one person. That was it. You could only save one person, and every other time you had been selfish and saved yourself, but not today. Today, when you cast that barrier, whose summoning was as learned as it was innate, the shimmering wall did not form around you but, for the first time, sprang up around another person entirely.

You wanted to look at him. You didn’t want to confront Sukuna and give him that satisfaction, and neither were you brave enough to stare at your impending doom with your shoulders squared and your head held high. Instead, you turned your back to it and kept your eyes firmly locked on Yuji’s, smiling in the face of his horror, trying to reassure him with your gaze if not your words that this was your decision, that he was the one who had to do it, because nobody else could. Because you could not, certainly you could not. This was the last thing you could offer him.

Reaching out your hand, you pressed it to the barrier, your fingers splaying against the cursed energy, which had coalesced into a form as solid as diamond. There, you waited, as his muscles trembled, as he shook his head, over and over in a firm denial, his mouth moving like he was rejecting what was happening though it was out of his power to do so. His hand moved despite his stubborn insistence, resting opposite yours in a clear farewell, forehead slamming against the barrier as he tried fruitlessly to get to you.

You wished that, in these final moments, there was not this wall between you. You wished that, if you had to leave him forever, you could hold onto him one last time. You wished that you could say goodbye, properly instead of through this impenetrable barrier.

Then a sensation engulfed you, warm and strong, not burning and anguishing as you had expected. It took you a moment to realize that you were longer in Sukuna’s Domain but instead in a different location, a sweet-smelling meadow dappled with sunlight and wildflowers, and that sensation which you still felt was the tenderness of Yuji’s embrace.

You wanted to ask him: where are we? How is this happening? Is it even real? Are you real? Have these past few months been nothing but a nightmare, and is this then the truth? But all you could do was sniffle, burying your face in his shoulder, pulling yourself closer to his chest and clutching onto him as tightly as you could.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking, one of his hands traveling up from your waist to the nape of your neck, clinging to you as tears welled in your eyes and splashed onto his skin. “Y/N, I—”

“I’m frightened,” you said. “Don’t speak about it. I’m very frightened, and I don’t want to — I don’t want to think about it or talk about it or anything. By some miracle, I have been given this last chance to see you, and I don’t want to ruin it by being frightened.”

His nose pressed against your cheek as he inclined his head, a small, choked sound escaping from him. Besides that, he was silent for a while, and then: “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“I didn’t hear it,” you said.

“I still did it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you,” you said, trying to laugh as best as you could. “Just barely.”

He let you go, though now his hands came to rest on your shoulders, and he was so gentle even when you knew he was falling apart that it brought tears to your eyes anew. You raised your own hand up so that it could trace against the scar by his lip, and he let out a shuddery, achy sigh.

“Is that the only thing you forgive me for?” he said.

“It’s the only thing that bears forgiving,” you said. “Nothing else you’ve ever done is something you should apologize for, so what more could I forgive? Let’s sit.”

Now that you were less bewildered, you took the time to take in your surroundings properly. The clearing you were in was composed more of white and pink than green, a carpet of blooms in many heights sprawling out until they hit the surrounding trees, whose branches arced up towards the sky like they were protecting the two of you. Somewhere in the distance, a creek bubbled happily, but that was the only sound, besides the breeze and Yuji’s soft breathing.

You leaned against Yuji’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as he nervously picked flowers, his fingers ever needing to remain busy, a companion to his racing mind.

“This is the last time I’ll see you, isn’t it?” he said, the rise and fall of his chest growing progressively quicker. “Because you…you know. It’s goodbye forever, isn’t it?”

“We’re luckier than most,” you said. “At least we get to say goodbye in the first place.”

“Not that lucky,” he said. “We still have to say goodbye, so how can we be lucky?”

“I never said lucky. Just that some people don’t get to say goodbye at all,” you said. “And here we are in such a wonderful place to get to do it.”

“Do you think it’s real?” he said.

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “Is this a trick being played by my mind? Or are we here together? For me it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help hoping that it’s real, or at least that you are. I want you to remember, too.”

“I’ll remember,” he said. “I’ll never forget it. Until the day I die, I’ll remember this. Remember you.”

“If you ever get married and have kids one day, will you tell them about me?” you said. “Not in the sense that you loved me before their mother, or more than her, or anything like that. Just that we were friends, and I saved your life once or twice.”

“We’re not friends, though,” he said.

“No, I suppose we’re not,” you said.

He nudged you in the side. You peered up at him, his shimmering eyes and the way his nose scrunched so that he could attempt to appear happy, and you raised your eyebrows. He lifted a garland of flowers up, like he was asking for your permission, and when you nodded he set it atop your head like a crown.

“You look like a princess,” he said. “So pretty.”

“I’m relying on you,” you said. “I can’t see myself, so if I look like a fool, then you have to be honest and say as much.”

“I’m telling the truth,” he said. “You’re as beautiful as the day we met. Or even more. I don’t know.”

“I want to go back to that day,” you said. “Go back and relive the past few months in an endless loop, just so I could meet you every time.”

“Even with everything else that happened?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “Even with everything else that happened. I’d suffer it again and again, just to experience the day I first saw you once more.”

He held your face still with his roughened hands, leaning down and pressing his lips against your own. You sought him out, your hands running through his hair, his rubbing against your jaw, the heat of his mouth different and yet so similar to the way you knew the fire of your death would feel. But this was a fire and a death you could choose, would choose, over and over until there was nothing left of you to burn away.

“It’s not fair,” he said when he pulled away. “Why do you have to leave? Why are you leaving me?”

“I just have to,” you said, fanning yourself as the sun beat down hotter than before. Yuji seemed unaffected, cocking his head at you for the odd behavior, but you only shrugged.

“Why can’t I go with you?” he said.

“You have to stay and protect the rest of the world,” you said. His brow furrowed, and you knew it was the same conflict that warred in him eternally springing to life once again. You did not want for him to be conflicted, though. He could not afford to be, not when everything was resting on his shoulders. “Yuji. Yuji, I’m so hot. Why aren’t you sweating? Why don’t you feel it?”

“What are you talking about?” he said in alarm. You stood, panting, pacing around to dissipate the blistering feeling crawling on your skin. “It’s the same temperature as before. It’s nice out, Y/N. Why are you acting like this?”

But it was not nice anymore, it was like you had been submerged in a vat of boiling water. Walking through the air felt like swimming, and in the corner of your vision, you saw something shimmer. It was a shade of red that you had not seen in so long; unbidden and despite your enduring discomfort, you grinned.

“Yuji,” you breathed. “Yuji, she’s here. It’s Kugisaki!”

“Where?” he said, head whipping about. You pointed at the visage of the girl, who was standing and waiting at the edge of the clearing, her hands folded behind her back and a placid smile on her face. “There’s no one there. Y/N, Y/N, please stop, there’s no one there…”

“She’s there,” you repeated, trying to tug him to his feet and finding that he was stuck by some invisible force. “She’s there.”

“Stop!” he said as you backed away, making his own effort to stand but finding himself unable to. You walked towards where Kugisaki was waiting for you, leaving the struggling Yuji behind. “Y/N, stop! Wait! Just one more minute, just give me that much!”

You turned to look at him one final time. He was reaching out for you, but you knew without really knowing how you did that it was futile. At least for now, he could not reach you. Kugisaki was beckoning you to a place that Yuji could not follow, a place that you did not even want him to.

He shook his head at you, one last, desperate effort that even he must’ve known was doomed to failure. “Please.”

You smiled at him. “Let’s not meet for a while, Yuji. Think about me every now and then, won’t you?”

With that, you took Kugisaki’s hand and allowed her to drag you somewhere far away, where you would never again know pain and the air was cool instead of searing, where you would wait until enough years had passed that you could see Yuji Itadori again.

#yuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuji x you #itadori x you #yuji x y/n #itadori x y/n #yuji itadori #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #canon au #jjk spoilers #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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imasoftieforbarb · 10 months

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(Sorry if it's to early to request, just a bit confused😅-) so here's how it goes: y/n had a massive crush on floyd since branch was a baby but was to scared and shy to confess it to him. Now in the present when floyd was dying y/n screamed to stop and everyone looked at her, even floyd(and also the star cameras lol) and once they were facing her she finally confessed his feelings to him(and he respond :"i..l..ike yo..u..too..)

Friends to Lovers

You’ve known Floyd since he was a kid

Childhood friends (with oblivious crushes)

You were always there to support him, every show you were in the crowd

Even the one that went terribly you were there to comfort him

He asked you to look after Branch

“I know I shouldn’t ask you to do these things but- I need you to look after Branch whilst I’m gone”

He was originally gonna ask you to come with him but- he knew how selfish that would be

You obviously agreed and gave him a letter professing your feelings for him, but told him to only open it when he got back

He agreed

You and Branch waved him off before he disappeared out of sight

You were diligent in your duty’s as a big sister to Branch

Helped him in every way you could

So when you saw him being manhandled by John Dory during the wedding

‘BIG SISTER MODE ACTIVATED’

You decide to go with Branch and Poppy, deciding that he’d need all the support possible

You seemed calm and collected on the outside

But on the inside?

You were upset, you were worried beyond belief and you were angry

Upset that Floyd had left for so long, angry that the reason was these two pompous siblings who wanted a bit of fame

But you were midst anxious about the letter you had given him

You still harboured those feelings that you had for him- you’d never managed to move on despite Branch encouraging you to in his own way

Throughout the journey, despite being happy to meet your friends again, everyone could tell that you were deeply missing Floyd

After Poppy, Branch, Tiny Diamond and you had made your way to Velvet and Veneers dressing room

You gasped- seeing Floyd looking so beaten down inside the diamond prison- tears gathering slightly in your eyes

You let Branch have his moment with his favorite brother before stepping forward

Floyd gasped before putting his hand on the diamond that separated you both- tearing up slightly as you put your hand where his was

“Y/n? You came all this way… to see me?”

“Not to see you- to save you”

You rest your forehead on the diamond

“I read your letter” Floyd said pulling a piece of paper from his pocket “it’s kept me going during the times I’ve had here”

You blushed slightly before looking away

“Do you still feel this way?”

You nodded sheepishly looking over your shoulder where Branch and Poppy were standing

Poppy holding back her teasing and Branch looking proud

“Yeah- I do”

He chuckled slightly before sighing

“I love you too- and I’m sorry I didn’t say so when I left”

#brozone #trolls band together #brozone x reader #trolls floyd #brozone floyd x reader #trolls floyd x reader

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thatgirlonstage · 4 months

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mermay prompt: JamiKali + gold?

I'm not entirely happy with the way I ended this one but if I keep picking at it I will run out of time to work on other prompts so I'm calling it good. Keep an eye on the Ao3 collection next year, I might put a revised version up once I've had longer to sit on it. I really like the worldbuilding concept I'm playing with, anyway :3

(also I hope you see this, nonny — sorry for taking most of the month to get to it!!!)

———

Mermaids cry pearls and their scales are made of gold.

Those are the kinds of myths that Jamil grows up hearing, circulating in whispers through the bazaar, repeated like a dreamy incantation by traders in their cups, posted in hashtags below visibly photoshopped images of supposed beachside treasures.

“If only they knew, huh Jamil?” Kalim giggles by his side, letting silk run over his hands like water. When his fingers lift away, there’s an embroidered pattern of fish leaping along the edge of the headscarf, flashing in the sunlight. Kalim’s smile is brighter than the pure silver of the thread, a searing thing, white teeth a slash in his brown skin. “I don’t think these people even believe mermaids really exist.”

Jamil bites down hard on the urge to tell him to shut up. Drawing any attention will only make Kalim’s remarks seem significant to anyone who already overheard them. He bites down so hard that his lip splits. He tastes iron. Kalim, brow furrowing, reaches up and swipes a thumb over Jamil’s mouth.

When mermaid blood is spilled on sand, it turns into rubies.

“Are you all right?” Kalim asks, popping his bloodied thumb back out of his mouth. “You’ve been so quiet today.” He spits a shard of something glittering and red into his palm, considers it, and discards it on the ground. A moment later, Jamil hears a muffled exclamation from behind them. He does not look back. Looking back will only draw attention. People exclaim in bazaars all the time.

“It’s too hot,” he says by way of excuse. “It’s making me tired.”

Kalim pokes him in the shoulder, a friendly reproach. “You should have said! I would’ve come on my own. It’s only the groceries.”

“Last time I let you go on your own, you left an entire frieze of the legend of Sinbad carved over the entrance of the fish merchant’s stall.”

Mermaids have sea silk for hair. I bet if you plucked a mermaid’s eyelashes they’d be made of saffron.

Kalim laughs, the sound high and bright and as bubbly as a stream. “I forgot about that! The poor man was so confused.” He trails just the edge of his pinky finger along a piece of pottery, and the mosaic pattern gains a thin golden outline. “I’m sorry I make you worry, but it’s just that your magic is so abundant, I’m overflowing all the time.” He leans up and presses his lips to Jamil’s cheek. “Take a little back, okay? It’ll help me behave.”

When a mermaid kisses you, forever after, every time you speak, gems will fall from your lips.

Jamil feels his own magic surge backward into his skin, electricity racing up and down his spine. It sits there, crouching in his nerves, making every hair on the back of his neck stand up, locked in his blood. He inhales sharply and lets the breath hiss back out between his teeth.

“Warn me when you’re about to do that,” he says. “It’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Oops.” Kalim looks contrite. “Sorry, I gave you back a little more than I meant to!” He reaches as if to take some of it again, but Jamil jerks his head away.

“It’s fine.” The magic pulls at his tendons, crackling with unreleased potential. He grits his teeth against the scraping, scrabbling, screaming need for release, the way it hits a wall at every turn. Kalim is at least no longer quietly turning every pebble he steps on into sea glass.

“Your magic really is just that potent,” Kalim tells him, settling back into his place next to Jamil, grin diamond-white in the afternoon sun. “I can make anything you want, Jamil.” He slides his hand into Jamil’s, interlocking their fingers. “Just ask. Whenever you want anything, just ask and it’s all yours.”

Jamil hopes the smile he gives in return looks less forced than it feels. He can’t bring himself to speak, to tell Kalim the truth. He only breathes and lets himself imagine the contact of their palms makes his magic trickle back into Kalim a little faster, that the pounding desperation in his skull to let the magic out of his skin is a little lessened, that the tightness of his jaw is due to sun and stress and hours spent with Kalim as company, and not a curse weaving its prohibition into his tongue and teeth, stopping any spell from passing his lips.

If someone asked Jamil Viper to tell them a story about mermaids, this is what he would have said:

It’s true, mermaids can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.

But they can’t do it alone. They have to borrow your magic.

If you wish, you can promise them magic in return for jewels, for gold, for pearls, for anything your heart could desire.

So go to the river if you want, trail a finger in the water under the full moon, and send out a spark to let one of them know you want to talk.

But be careful.

Once you’ve made a pact with one it cannot be undone.

They will stay bound to your bloodline forever.

———

Mermay prompts are open until May 31st!

#twst #twisted wonderland #jamikali #mermay #jamil viper #kalim al asim #my writing

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mermaidgirl30 · 7 months

Text

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Chapter 3: How Wonderful Life Is While You’re In the World✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I hope you are enjoying our Moulin Rouge au that me and @mountainsandmayhem have created! Cheers to another chapter and please let us know how you liked it ❤️

Chapter Summary: Your feelings for Joel are growing faster than you imagined, but you have to deal with Terrance. The man you can’t stand to be alone with. Will Joel be able to save you or will you have to suffer alone while he watches helplessly?

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Word Count: 10.2k

Chapter Tags: Reader buys a new dress, mutual pining, feelings, smut, oral receiving (fem), secret date, angst, desire, longing, Joel teaches reader guitar, reader shows Joel how to dance, reader is a sex worker who’s put in a position from Terrance and his friends that involves nonconsensual touching so please read at your own risk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Even though you’ve calmed down a bit, you practically stomp back to your room as your high heels dig deep into the floor. You’re feeling every single emotion that you can possibly feel right now. Obviously mad after the screaming match with your uncle, but also sad and scared about what you have to do with Terrance. Not scared in the way most would be, that some man they don’t know is about to own you and your body completely, but scared to lose Joel. That kiss is still burning on your lips and your body is aching for more of him. Worst of all, you’re scared for your heart. Your poor battered heart. You’ve ignored it for years, and right when you open it up it’s about to be absolutely obliterated.

When you open your bedroom door, you see Joel under your sink replacing the pipes. This might be your only chance to be alone with him again. A little voice inside your head tells you to be selfish, just this once. So you listen.

You saunter over to him and hover above him, one foot on each side of his body as you smirk down at him flirtatiously.

He turns his head slightly and smiles warmly as he sees you standing above him. “Whatcha doin’ up there, darlin’?” Joel asks, grunting as he tightens the pipes.

You slowly lower your knees to the ground, hiking the skirt of your dress up as you sink down to hover right above his lap. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you say seductively.

He glances out at you as his eyebrow raises high on his forehead. “I can’t, in good conscience, have you in a room without working water, baby.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” you giggle, “where did you even get the parts or -” You cock your head slightly to be able to see his face and wave your hand around under the sink.

His hand lightly circles your wrist and he moves it out from the cabinet chuckling slightly. “I’m working here, baby girl. There’s an empty room down the hall. I took them from there, and I’ll replace them tomorrow.”

You're silent for a while as you straighten your neck to look at the edge of your countertop. The bitter biting feeling floods your thoughts as no one has ever treated you like this, gone out of their way to fix something for you. But Joel does. He’s probably exhausted, but he’s here, happy to be here in fact, fixing something for you, so you can have basic comforts. Pushing his own comfort of sleep aside for you.

He puts the wrench down gently on the ground, keeping his eyes fixed on the pipes above him. “Everything okay out there?” he asks as he continues tightening the loose pipes.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You can’t be with him, but fuck you need him. You know he’d treat you properly, but you also know that as of tomorrow you belong to fucking Terrance. You bite your lip nervously and decide you can’t go the rest of your life not having this moment with Joel. He can’t possibly feel the same way you do, it’s illogical of you to say that you’re in love with a man you don’t even know yet. Joel seems level headed, he’ll just think he got a night like you give to everyone else. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he tried to pay you after.

You swirl your hips, just grazing against his hardening cock as you moan at the thought of having him. “Yes,” you whisper.

He sucks in a breath and moves his hands to your thighs as you feel his calloused fingers brush lightly over your exposed legs. “Careful, baby girl.”

You grind down harder, hands falling to the bottom of his shirt as you slide your fingers up along his soft, warm skin. You say his name with a moan. Joel lifts you slightly and slides his body down between your thighs.

“No,” you whine, already missing the feeling of his bulge pressing against your needy center.

Joel continues sliding down until his face is in line with your pussy. He looks up at you, his lust filled eyes blowing out as they meet yours.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.

“Don’t whine, darlin’. I got you, if that’s what you want.”

“Please, Joel.” It comes out airy and breathy, much needier than you intended. Your breaths are coming in rapidly as you cup one of your breasts in your hands, desperate for any sort of touch you can get.

Joel traces a thick finger up your inner thigh slowly as your body writhes with anticipation. “Sshhh, sweet girl. Relax.”

“I can’t,” you whine, your body twitching with every little touch he gives you. “Please Joel, I need you.”

Joel moves your skirt out of the way, his fingers finding the center of your wet panties, lightly tracing up and down your slit. The fabric is soaked and his touch is causing more slick to build between your thighs. Joel is growing painfully hard, the zipper of his work pants pressing into his cock that’s already fully hard for you. Joel Miller is a lover though, and that’s exactly what he plans to do. To love you, to show you just how a man should treat someone as beautiful as you.

“Relax,” he says with encouragement. “You can do it. Take a deep breath, baby.”

He continues his ministrations, adding just a bit more pressure as he slides his thumb against your aching clit. You cry out with a plea and then follow along with what he says. You close your eyes and take a slow, deep inhale, releasing your breath as everything seems to go quiet around you. You don’t have a single thought or any emotion, there’s nothing in this room aside from you and Joel but thick tension that sits in the air. As the trembling in your body slows, you soften around him, letting out a deep moan that seems to set you on fire.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praises.

You smile a look down at him, just able to see his blown out pupils from in between your thighs. You take another breath while holding his gaze, seeing his amber eyes start to glaze over into deep black pits. You’ve never been looked at quite like that before. It’s not lust, it’s something much, much more. You return the look at him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from breaking the surface.

“Darlin’?” Joel asks, his voice deeper now, more sensual.

“Yeah?”

“Grab onto the edge of the sink with both your hands.”

You keep eye contact, raising one eyebrow before reaching up and wrapping both hands around the sink. The steel of the sink is cold, it only helps draw you deeper into the heat of Joel’s body, his mouth just a hair away from your clothed core. Your panties are soaked through with your arousal after he teased you with his finger.

“Good girl,” he growls. The heat of his breath hits your clit and you cry out just a little, hips bucking towards his face as your clit drags against the edge of his hooked nose, causing you to cry out again in awe. You manage to regain your composure, Joel’s thumb hooking your panties and pulling them to the side hurriedly. “So gorgeous, baby. You tell me if you want me to stop, got it?”

“Oh my God, Yes. Yes, just please - please, I need it.”

“I’m gonna give it to ya, darlin’. Hold on tight,” he instructs with a deep growl.

Joel dives in like you’re his oxygen and he’s fucking drowning in your air. He has always liked doing this, making women feel good with his experienced tongue. It feels sensual and intimate to get to see someone like this, to have them trust him like this. But with you, he really fucking loves it. The feel and taste of your sweet arousal on his tongue is euphoric to him, angelic. If he was on death row, he’d ask for this for his very last meal.

You cry out loudly as his tongue expertly teases your clit, alternating between tight circles with the tip of his tongue to long, flat licks. Your arousal leaks down his throat, and he swallows you down eagerly as he tastes the honey-like flavor hit his tastebuds. He moans loudly as he licks and licks, sending warm sparks up your lower regions.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you repeat his name over and over like a holy prayer, and your orgasm builds faster than you thought possible. He pulls away for a second, bringing two thick fingers up to your wet folds as he slides them back and forth slowly. He moves them up and down teasingly, coating his fingers with your sweet juices.

“Can I put my fingers inside of you, baby girl?” His voice is full of lust. Hot, hungry, needy.

“Yes,” you say quickly, “yes, please, Mr. Miller.”

“Let me hear you say it,” he instructs, his deep breath coming out scratchy and so fucking hot.

You bite your bottom lip as you taste your cherry flavored chapstick. You’re good at teasing men, doing things for them, but not for you. And now Joel wants you tell him what you want, and it shouldn’t be so fucking hard.

“You can do it, just say the words.” His fingers are still lazily running along you, slowly teasing as he makes more slick run down your center.

“I - I want…” your cheeks flush and you throw your head back in mere frustration. Why the fuck can’t you just ask for what you want? Why was that so difficult for you?

Joel can sense your frustration, or perhaps discomfort with the situation. He stops what he’s doing and softly says, “Hey, look at me, baby.” When you look down his face is soft, big brown eyes staring up at you. “You don’t have to say it if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I pushed you, but you don’t have to hold back from me. Anything you want, ask. Ask and I’ll do it.”

You swallow hard. You’re in love, so very out of this world in love, and this is your only chance to do something about it. You can’t spend the rest of your life with Terrance regretting not saying a few simple words. You have to do this. Say it.

Your eyes dance around Joel’s face before you whisper, “I want your fingers, please. I need them inside of me.”

Joel lets out a deep moan and growls, fuuuuuuck.

He latches his mouth to your clit again, gently pushing his index finger into the sensitive entrance of your needy pussy as you writhe in pleasure. He pushes his fingertips slowly in and out a few times before pushing it all the way in, hooking his fingers up into that spongy area that sends you gasping for breath. You moan loudly, one hand falling from the sink to grab his tousled curls. The second you make contact with his head everything stops - his fingers are gone, mouth pulled off your clit with a loud pop.

“No!” you cry, needing him to continue as your insides ache for him.

“I said to grab onto the edge of the sink with both hands,” he demands, his eyes narrowing up at you.

You shakily move your hands back to the sink.

“Be my good girl and keep them there, understand?” The lust filling his eyes and deep gravel in his voice are almost enough to make you come.

“Yes,” you coo, leaning forward to get closer to his mouth.

“You let go, and I’ll stop.”

Your back arches more, trying desperately to get the attention that you think you might die without. Joel moves in again, lapping at your clit before sliding two fingers all the way inside you. You're tight and warm around his fingers and he has to remind himself to slow down, be gentle with you. He wants you to savor it just as much as he wants to savor you.

He curls his fingers inside you and he feels your pussy flutter slightly, he knows you're close. You squeeze your eyes tightly, gripping the edge of the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

“There she goes,” he says, “let me see it, baby.”

Your moans turn desperate, but you aren’t sure what you’re more desperate for. If you come he’s going to stop, you aren’t sure if you want him to stop, but fuck do you need to come. Your walls start to flutter around Joel’s fingers again, feeling that warm sensation building in your spine.

“Show me,” he praises, “be my good girl.”

That’s what does it, the sparks in your belly radiate out to every limb. The waves of pleasure weaken all your muscles. You feel your arms giving out, but there’s no way you’re going to let go of that sink. Screams and moans fill your room, “F-fuck, Joel. Oh, fuck.”

He praises you as you shamelessly grind your hips down onto his face. “You’re so fucking perfect. Take it, baby girl.”

Before the pleasure becomes overstimulating, Joel slows his fingers inside you and pulls his tongue away from your swollen bundle of nerves. He works his fingers slowly, placing an occasional light kiss to your pussy and slowly you start to come back down to earth.

You’re trying to catch your breath as Joel slides out from under you and then scoops you up into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, breathing him in as he walks you towards your bed. He places you down gently, one of his big hands coming to cup behind your head until it lands softly on your pillow, and he covers you with a soft fleece blanket. No one has ever tucked you in before, at least not that you can remember. A simple act, filled with so much love and tenderness. You reach out for Joels hand, and he doesn’t hesitate to grab onto you.

“Stay,” you whisper, suddenly desperate for his warmth.

“I’ll get fired, darlin’,” he whispers sadly, sitting down on the edge of your bed carefully. You roll onto your side and move close to him, reaching one of your arms out as you grab onto his wrist.

“Stay,” you repeat again, your eyelids starting to become heavier as the weight of your orgasm takes its toll on you.

He places a light kiss on your temple and whispers gently, “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

You melt into his kiss, lips tasting like coffee and sunshine. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

He brushes your hair back, and one finger trails down the bridge of your nose lightly. You close your eyes, a little smile lifting your lips. “I would love that, baby girl. You can teach me how to use that pottery wheel.”

A small ‘okay’ leaves your lips as he kisses your forehead again. “Go to sleep, my love.” And so you do, drifting off to sleep with the brush of his calloused fingers running along your upper arm and his smooth lips trailing kisses against your cheekbone.

You wake up to sunshine on your skin and the feeling of fresh slick between your legs. Dreams of Joel invaded your sleep last night, and all you could think of was his warm tongue sliding up and down your drenched center. You blush at the images that paint your mind and look over to the other side of your bed. You frown when you realize Joel isn’t here, but he did stay till you fell asleep. You wish he could’ve stayed the entire night, holding you in his strong arms, drinking up his mahogany scent that haunts your memories. You want him here, need him here, but he said he couldn’t stay. He said he’d be fired.

Why would he be fired? Your uncle said you could have anything. And you want Joel. You want him. He couldn’t be fired, he wouldn’t be. Unless…. unless your uncle gave him strict orders that he couldn’t touch the dancers, that he couldn’t touch you. Would your uncle really do that? You’re starting to realize he would.

A light knock on the door shakes you out of bed, and you pull on a long pink robe and tie it in a tight bow. You pace over to your large door and open it up to find your uncle leaning up against the doorway with a huge grin on his face. He barges right in and brushes past your shoulder as you close the door behind him and turn his direction.

“Today’s the day, petal!” he almost yells as his green eyes beam down at you with a stupid grin that takes over his wrinkled features.

“Today’s the day?” you ask confused, then suddenly realize what he’s so jolly about.

“Terrance! Remember? He’s going to be here this evening, and he expects to see you,” he replies, eyes gazing into yours as you nearly revolt against his wishes.

“Oh, right…” you say quietly as the weight of his words settle in on you. Maybe when you’re eighteen, you can join them. The words make you sick, make you want to push him in the chest and tell him no. You want to scream, throw your lit up lamp across the room and watch the glass shatter into a million pieces, but you can’t. You can’t.

Your uncle places his hand under your chin and lifts your eyes up to his. “Now, now. Don’t be like that, petal. He’s paying us well. The Moulin Rouge is saved. We don’t have to worry anymore,” he encourages as he smiles down at you with enthusiasm spilling over his tongue.

He’s paying us well. The words sound like long nails running down a rusted chalkboard, filling the room with a deafening noise as you cringe at the words. He was not the one being sold to Terrance, you were. You were the one that had to entertain this man for God knows how long. It was you that had to pretend, not your uncle.

“He’ll be here around 7:00pm sharp. I want you down there no later than that, understand?” he asks as he looks over you slowly, making sure you don’t make a fuss.

“I’ll be there, uncle. If I must,” you say with a slight huff, trying to keep your spirits up for him.

“Here,” he hands you a crisp one hundred dollar bill and places it in your hand as the material crinkles together under your touch. “Go buy yourself something nice. Maybe a pretty dress for Terrance. His favorite color is red.” He places a light kiss to your forehead then pads off to the door, leaving the room feeling hollow and empty as his footsteps trail down the hallway. You stand there gawking at his vacant shadow.

Go buy yourself something nice? His favorite color is red? Who the fuck does he think he is?

The words make you feel cheap, the money makes you feel used, dirty. You don’t want the money. You want to run out of the room and throw it back at him, make him regret ever selling you to a rich prick who only wants you for your body. You don’t want to fucking do this anymore! But what choice do you have? The deal had already been made…

You throw your hand out and hit the wall hard as pain radiates down your arm like fire running through your nerves. You wince and shake it out, letting the pain simmer away as you walk into your lit up pink bathroom and run the shower water, staring at yourself in the mirror until your face is lost in fog. How poetic, you think to yourself.

You peel off your robe and let it land in a heap on the floor, stepping into the heat as you let the scalding water cascade down your porcelain skin, washing away the scent of regret and anger. You lather the shampoo through your long locks, run the citrus soap over the entirety of your body until it drowns you, rinsing it off as you watch it run down the drain in swirling colors brighter than your own future.

After sulking in the shower for nearly half an hour, you dry your body off with a fleece towel and throw on a soft pretty flamingo colored dress. You dry and curl your hair, applying red lipstick to your soft lips and mascara to your long lashes.

You take a second to look at yourself in the mirror, examining every feature as you see sadness in the soft glow of your eyes, holding back tears as you hold your chin up and wipe away a distant tear. Time for you to take a walk.

You close up your room as you shove the hundred dollar bill into your scarlet purse, feeling dirty for even having it in your grasp. You shake your head and walk down the lit up halls of the Moulin Rouge, passing some dancers as you saunter out the front doors and into the sunlight.

You let the glow of the sun warm your cold soul, let it fill you with ease as you walk down the crowded streets to one of your favorite dress shops. As soon as you step in, you’re met with a busy seamstress and a batch of dresses that hang loosely over manicans and display on long hangers.

“Anything I can help you find, miss?” the petite blonde asks as you enter the store.

“Just looking around for the moment,” you say as you gaze around at all the colorful, fancy dresses.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” she says as she turns back to the cash register.

You pace around the room, trailing your hand on various types of fabrics as you circle the large shop. The colors go from deep purples to ombré to bright shades of yellow. Almost any color you can imagine fills the room, giving you a ton to choose from. It’s almost overwhelming.

You see a long, luxurious dress that sits in the middle of the room. It’s a deep crimson color, one that Terrance would probably kill to see you in. You roll your eyes and walk past it, you’re not getting that one.

You look through the rack of dresses, assessing each one as none of them stick out at you. You’re about to give up when you turn and see a deep blue colored dress that sits displayed behind a hidden curtain. You pull it back and gasp at the beautiful dress that seems to call your name.

The dress is as blue as the depths of the sea, the fabric of the skirt reaching the floor as a long slit divides the left corner of the dress, leaving an opening to show off your long legs in. It’s sleeveless, and the material making up the low cut front shimmers against the glistening sun. It’s absolutely perfect. You think Joel might love this, might run his fingers up the slit to feel the smooth skin of your leg, might lose his voice while he mulls over how it fits your curves, might want to rip it off you so he can see what’s underneath…

Without another thought you take the dress to the counter, taking out what feels like hush money and pay for the dress. The dressmaker wraps it in a nice box for you, and you grab the handle and step out into the sunshine. You know you should go back, but the walk here helped clear your mind and you aren’t ready to go back and face your future quite yet. You spin the opposite direction of the Moulin Rouge and come face to face with the one man you want nothing more than to be with. Joel.

“Hi,” he says, blushing slightly.

You bite your cheek to stop from smiling, he’s so fucking beautiful that it almost hurts. “Hi.”

“Whatcha got there?” he asks, nodding towards the box in your arms.

“Oh no no, the Sparkling Diamond never reveals her secrets,” you smirk, curling your red lips up into a playful smile.

“I’ll tell you a secret of mine if you let me peek in that box.”

You stare at him for a second contemplating. Joel Miller is definitely flirting with you.

“You go first,” you say with a giggle.

He steps into you, placing his large palm on the small of your back, his lips close to your ear and whispers, “You were beautiful coming apart on my tongue last night.”

You feel your cheeks and chest redden at his confession, and your clit twitches with the memory of how he felt lapping at your center. You’ve had all sorts of sexual experiences before, but he seemed to know exactly where to touch you without any help. That was the first time in a long time that you didn’t feel like you were going to have to fake an orgasm.

He steps back and taps the box, and you generously open it a little as his eyes widen. “Wow, that's, wow.”

You smile to yourself triumphantly. He’s already speechless, and it’s still in the box. “What are you doing here?”

“I just live right over there,” he says as he points to an old brick building. “I was running some errands before my shift tonight.”

“You’re coming to see me after, right?” you ask shyly, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him. He seems to melt at the weight of your eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darlin’,” he replies, lowering his voice and adds, “especially if you’re going to be in that fucking dress.”

You gasp at his words. That fucking dress. “Guess you’re going to have to come find me to find out then,” you wink, flashing him your best smile. He smiles back, and it sends warmth flooding through your lower regions.

“You busy now? I could show you my place, if you’d like,” he says shyly, running a hand through his tousled curls as crimson flashes across his cheeks.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

You flick your eyes up to the tall brick building and contemplate your options. You want to, you really want to, but you can’t. You need to get back to the Moulin Rouge and get ready to meet your awful date.

You sigh and shake your head sadly. “I’d love to, Joel. I really would, but I have to get back. I have a busy day.” You see his Adam’s Apple bob up and down, and you want so badly to run your fingers through his hair and press your lips up against his. Sooth him over. Not here though. Not where your uncle or Terrance could see.

“Another time then?” Joel asks with a hopeful glance your way.

You nod in response. “Another time.”

He grazes his hand against yours and discreetly entwines his fingers with yours. It feels so good, so safe, so right. You can’t wait till the night is over, until you can be in Joel’s arms again. That’s where you belong, where you want to be.

You slowly squeeze his hand and then let go, letting your fingers fall to your side against your silky dress. “I need to go. I’ll see you tonight, handsome.”

“Tonight,” he promises. With that you turn and go back to your demise, to the Moulin Rouge.

Joel arrives at the burlesque twenty minutes before his shift. He sneaks in the back door and tucks his guitar away in the maintenance closet and then goes to find Edward. He finds him at the front, in the same pressed, crisp suit from last night. He’s greeting men with enthusiastic handshakes and seems happier overall tonight.

“Joel!” He calls from across the hall, “great to see you, son.”

Joel gives him a tight lipped smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading over to Edward. The men who turned their noses up to him the other night glare sideways at him. He still can’t believe that he’s considered the scum in this place.

“We are using the VIP area tonight after the Sparkling Diamond performs. It hasn’t been used in a while. Can you go up there and check the lighting, make sure the tables and chairs are set up? Also need someone to help the bartender bring up everything.”

His throat tightens at the thought of you having to be up in that room with some of these men. He replies through gritted teeth, “Of course, sir.”

He wanders up one of the spiral staircases off the main dance floor, men clamouring around trying to get the best seat before the girls come out for them to grab at. The VIP area overlooks the burlesque, there’s a private booth along the back with a curtain that the guests can draw closed. Bile rises in his throat at the thought of you being back there, but he knows what you do for work, and even though he knows that he’s madly and wildly in love with you. But it doesn’t mean that you feel the same way. You invited him over tonight, you sat on his lap last night, so he’ll take this at your speed and maybe one day he can get you out of here.

The two tables along the shiny black railing have chairs tipped up on them, so he flips them and places them on the ground neatly. He tests to make sure the tables aren’t wobbly before moving over to the private bar and picking up a knocked over stool.

“Are there any thirsty gents out there tonight?” Edward’s voice booms over the burlesque. Men cheer and whoop in anticipation. “Get ready boys, a little teaser with the Diamonds before your - err umm - the Sparkling Diamond comes out.”

A bartender comes up with a big box full of glasses and alcohol. “Thanks umm…”

“Joel,” he says.

The bartender reaches out his hand and they shake. “Pierre. Thanks for this. Terrance is gonna be up here soon though so you better go.”

“Yeah, the light above the booth is out so I’m gonna change that.”

Pierre laughs to himself, “I wouldn’t bother man. I’m sure whatever woman he takes in there will want it to be dark.”

Terrance, who the fuck is Terrance?

Joel heads down to the main hall when he hears there’s an issue in one of the bathrooms. He sighs and then races off to assess the damage.

You slip the silky blue dress over your body and then slide your feet into sparkly high heeled shoes. The bedazzled strap of the shoe goes up your strong calf, and even though you’re nervous and shaky at the thought of being alone with Terrance in the VIP area tonight, you’ve never felt stronger or sexier than you do in this look. Joel’s flirtations from earlier wash over you and make heat rise in your cheeks. As long as you’re wearing that fucking dress.

You’re not looking forward to Joel seeing you with him tonight. Maybe you should have told him, but you’re just not ready for your time with him to be up yet. Just the thought of not getting him to your room again feels like someone is clamping clothespins along your insides as pain starts burning there.

You slide on some red lipstick and flick your eyeliner out in black sharp lines. As soon as you put the eyeliner down you hear your uncle’s booming voice on the microphone, asking the men to call you to the stage. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, but you don’t recognize yourself anymore. This painted woman, not even a name or a face on the other side of that curtain. But in your room with Joel, you’re his person. Someone he wants to cherish and care for. You’d do anything for him to feel the same way and take you away from here. Maybe one day he would.

The band starts your music slowly and you act almost robotic as you take the stage, a puppet on a tight string where the men call all the shots. You practically disassociate, letting muscle memory take over as you start to move. It brings you to the stage, pulling you into the bright lights of the large room as the men stand and wait. You point and flirt, spin and tease the men with the long slit up your leg, exposing soft skin that the men practically claw at. You bend and push your cleavage together towards the faceless men in the audience, hating that you have to do this night after night.

After your music ends, your uncle comes out with the other Diamonds. “This little petal is spoken for tonight, gents,” he calls. They groan as their hopes and dreams of getting alone time with you fly out the window. You can’t believe there was a time when that made you feel good about yourself, now it makes you feel cheap and used. “But I have some lonely Diamonds that could use some polishing, if you know what I mean,” he says with a wink as the men cheer at his announcement, already reaching for the other dancers.

Your uncle leads you off the lit up stage and pushes you towards the spiral staircase. “Make him happy, petal.” You groan as you climb the winding staircase, dreading what you know is about to come.

You didn’t look up during your performance once, not that you would have been able to see with the bright lights shining in your eyes, but when you reach the balcony you’re shocked to see Terrance with five of his friends. They whistle and catcall as you appear, and you feel hot bile rise in your throat.

“There you are. Gents, this is my girl. Give them a little spin,” he says with a greasy grin. You spin slowly, one of the men grabbing at your ass when your back is to them. You cringe at the unwelcome hands as they claw at your dress.

“Hey, hands off,” Terrance growls. For a second you’re grateful for him, until he opens his mouth again. “Unless you wanna pay me for her.”

His small, cold hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you over to sit on his lap. His leg is bony and uncomfortable, but he pins you to him. The men order more bourbon and talk while your mind wanders to Joel. He doesn’t have bony legs, no. They’re thick and muscular, filling out his work jeans nicely. You find your eyes scanning the Moulin Rouge looking for him. You need to see him, you need that reminder of what you have to live for.

That dreadful feeling hits you again, weighing you down as cold air floods your insides. You don’t want to do this anymore.

After what feels like hours, you finally see Joel coming out of the men’s bathroom with his metal toolbox in hand. You look away from him, scared that your gaze might somehow attract his, and you can’t bear the chance of seeing any sort of hurt in his eyes that you might be causing him right now.

The men around you have gotten increasingly more drunk and sloppy, hands reaching for you clumsily. Terrance’s hand roams up the bodice of your dress, and your stomach clenches as you feel a heavy weight in your chest start to burn. He grazes your breast slightly before pushing your hair out of the way and places a wet, slobbery kiss to the back of your shoulder. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to retch.

“So, we can pay you then?” One of them asks Terrance. They’re talking like you’re not even here, like you’re mute and unable to do anything of your own free will.

“I don’t like to share what’s mine, but look at her.” His hand comes back to your breast and squeezes hard, making you bite down on your tongue as you taste blood run down the back of your throat.

“Let me see her, decide if I want to get out my checkbook or not,” another one says raspily.

Terrance tries to lift you up off him. You stand begrudgingly as he shoves you towards his friend. The other man gropes at your waist and pulls you roughly into him. You stumble, ripping the skirt of your dress as you fall into his lap. You let out a little squeal at the impact, the slit of your dress falling open to expose your upper thigh.

“I think she likes it,” he laughs, one of his hands grabbing a lock of your hair as he takes a strong whiff of your citrus shampoo. The other lands on your soft milky thigh as he adds, “You definitely picked the best whore in the house, Terrance.” Whore. The word makes you tense up and makes you feel completely disgusting. He goes to cup your breast and slowly slides the top of the dress down, exposing your breast completely as he kneads at it while the other men howl like wild dogs.

You feel the sting of tears in your eyes, feel one roll coldly down your cheek as it splashes against the wooden floor. Terrance just sits there, marveling at your body as he watches his friend ravish your bare skin. You try to get up, but he holds you down. “Where do you think you’re going, gorgeous? We paid for you, don’t think you’re going anywhere else tonight,” he smirks, his lips running hastily down your neck as you cringe away from him.

“Alright now, that’s enough. Give her back now,” Terrance demands as he yanks you off his friend and sits you back in his lap. Now it’s his turn to pry his cold hands over your body.

He slides his hand up to cup your exposed breast, softly kissing your earlobe while his wet mustache tickles your skin. One of his other friends bends down and picks up your leg where the torn slit sits, running his hand up your exposed thigh. A second friend grabs your other leg, parting your thighs and exposing your lacy panties. You freeze, there’s no stopping it, this is what you must do to save the Moulin Rouge, so you just sit there and take it, letting another hot tear run down your face as it lands with a splash on your ruined blue dress.

Maybe when you’re eighteen you can join them.

The room seems to blur as your wet eyes gaze at the ceiling, looking anywhere but at the men that take and take and take from you without any say from you.

Joel… Save me…

Joel's eyes scan the crowded room, looking past flirtatious dancers as they flock around handsy men in expensive suits. When he doesn’t find you anywhere on the dance floor, he lifts his eyes slowly to the balcony, praying he won’t see you in that dark booth. His gaze stops cold as he sees just what’s happening. You are in the booth and there are six men feasting their eyes and hands on you, devouring you up as they take and take and take from you without any remorse on their sly faces.

He sees the way you close your eyes and look away, sees the hot tears that roll down your face as they paint the front of your dress wet. Something in the depths of his stomach snaps. Pure red hot rage blinds him as he drops the heavy toolbox on the ground, grabbing the hammer and clutching it tightly in his fist like a drawn weapon. He squeezes the metal handle as he flares his nostrils and clenches his jaw, snarling his teeth so tight that he swears he’s about to break them. He’s going to fucking kill every single man up there that has their grimy hands on you. He’s going to destroy every last one of them.

He takes one step forward and feels a hand pull him back into the shadows. He turns around as fast as lightning and finds one of the dancers shaking her head at him. “Leave it alone, Joel. Do not go up there and bother them,” she warns with red matte lips and purple eyeshadow that cakes over green eyes.

“What do you mean don’t go up there? Look at her, she’s crying and looks like she wants to die!” he yells, anger seething him as he looks back up to see your eyes open, staring at him as if you’re screaming for him to come save you.

He parts his lips and furrows his eyebrows together, watching the man who’s beneath you kiss down your neck with a sloppy tongue while his other hand kneads your exposed breast. It makes Joel sick, makes his hand tighten around the hammer that much more as he takes another heavy step forward.

The dancer stops him once again. “You don’t want to do that, Joel. That’s Terrance.”

Terrance. Ah. That’s who that fucking is. He wants to murder Terrance slowly and painfully, make him suffer for everything he’s done to his girl.

“Who the fuck is Terrance?” Joel growls as his teeth gnash together.

“Terrance is filthy rich. A powerful man you don’t want to cross. He’s given this place a lot of money, invested a ton in the Sparkling Diamond. Do not fuck this up, Joel. Leave it alone. Leave her alone,” she warns.

Leave her alone? He can’t, he won’t.

“Fuck that, I’m going to make him pay,” he growls.

“Joel!” She says his name loud and firm, digging her long nails into the skin of his wrist. He has no choice but to turn and look at her.

“Look, I can see what’s going on. I see the way you look at her. I saw the smile on your face last night when I caught you leaving her room. You need to be more careful. You’re not supposed to be seeing her, remember? If Edward were to find out you’d be…”

He cuts her off before she can finish her sentence. “What, fired? Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I don’t think about that every fucking minute of the day? But you know what? I don’t care anymore. Because I… fuck, I think I fucking love her.”

The words hang heavily between them before he continues. “No, I know I do. I love her, and if you want to tell Edward then be my guest. I’ll somehow manage without the job, but I can’t manage without her.” He points up to the balcony to make a strong statement and watches as you keep your eyes fixed on him. You need him. You need him.

“Joel…” the dancer says quietly. “I’m not going to tell Edward. She’s basically a daughter to me, and I hate what’s happening up there just as much as you. Just please, be careful. Watch your back and don’t get yourself caught. I’d hate to see what would happen if you did,” she says sadly, eyes gazing back up at you as Joel’s eyes follow.

They watch together as you get torn to shreds, your beautiful dress absolutely ruined by those starving pigs. Joel can’t remember ever being this angry, so very angry. He feels hot lava run through his veins, feels his lip quiver as he watches defenseless. He can’t save you right now and that alone kills him the most.

You nod slowly at him, eyes still wet with tears, but you tug a small smile on your face and mouth ‘it’s okay’ to him. But it’s not okay, it’s just fucking not.

His hand clenches around the base of the hammer, and he has to steady himself as he feels anger, sadness, and helplessness wash over him. He can’t do anything right now which makes him feel like he’s fucking drowning underwater. He hates this, hates you having to sit there and take it. He can’t watch anymore. It’s too much, this is too much. He bends over and picks up the heavy toolbox again and takes one more glance in your direction, eyes locking for a few seconds before he turns the opposite way and heads down the hall.

“I can’t watch this anymore, just tell me when it’s over,” he sighs as he leaves the dancer’s side and trudges down the dim lit hall, away from the men that paw you like starving animals. He can’t do this. He can’t do this. Not when he loves you so goddamn much. It kills him, this kills him. So he decides to go drown himself in work just so he won’t have to see it anymore, won’t have to see your pleading eyes as they stare at him helplessly, begging him to rescue you.

You sigh when you see Joel disappear down the hall, almost cry out his name as they continue to bleed you dry. You need him. You need him.

Come save me, Joel. Come back, come back.

Another hot tear falls and splashes to the floor as you turn your head back to the men as they have their fun with you. This isn’t worth the money, this isn’t worth anything. You’d rather be standing out on the streets than be ravished by disgusting men. You’d rather be with Joel in your room, getting lost in his velvety lips and soft brown eyes. After this you would, after this he’d be yours. You just had to hold on a little longer, give these men what they desired most, which was you. You just hoped Joel still wanted you after seeing you like this…

“More bourbon!” Terrance calls to the bartender as he watches his friends do vile things to your partially naked body.

“Sorry, sir, but we appear to be out.” The bartender says sheepishly.

The men groan, one of them saying, “Let’s go then gents.” Terrance and his disgusting friends grumble about the horrible service and leave you laying there, exposed and raw on the seating of the dark booth. Your body is slick with your own nervous sweat, as well as the clammy sweat of those men's hands and only God knows what else.

“Come on, kid.” The bartender says, helping you up and wrapping you in a silky red table cloth. “Let me take you to Edward.”

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head quickly. He's just as responsible for this as Terrance. You want to be alone or with Joel, not around money starved pigs. “I’ll get myself to my room, thanks.”

You walk quietly across the balcony, feeling like your legs will give out at any minute. You place your shaky hand against the stair rail and descend the curvy staircase. You see the men downstairs staring up at you, feel their eyes devour you as they see you wrapped in the red tablecloth. You know what they think of you, know what they’d like to do to you as well. You just gulp down a whimpered breath and continue on to your room, ignoring every catcall and question thrown your way. You just want to be alone, to be away from all this loud madness. You want Joel, need him like you need air to breathe.

When you open your heavy door, Joel is already there. Sitting at the small bistro kitchen table, elbows propped against the edge with his head resting heavily in his hands. You swallow loudly and clear your throat carefully. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly, fidgeting with the red tablecloth that wraps around your shoulders.

Joel’s head whips up fast, tears running down his face as his wide eyes lock on yours. “How? Why? I - I thought you weren’t… I didn’t know you were entertaining other men.” He looks so sad. So very sad, and it nearly shatters your heart into pieces.

“It’s complicated,” you say as you stare at the floor, tightening the table cloth around your body a little more.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut yourself off to me.” Joel gets up and walks over to you slowly, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your mascara is smudged, lipstick stained across your chin, and you’re sure your hair is a mess. “I’m not blaming you, just please tell me how this happened?”

You wet your lips nervously as he continues staring at you intently. It’s almost overwhelming when he’s looking at you the way he is now. All soft and concerned. The wet trails down his cheeks feel like a hot stake to your heart. “Edward sold me,” you whisper sadly.

“What?” he gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“He sold me,” you repeat as shame crosses your face.

“Why would he do that? Why!” His voice is angry, hurt. He doesn’t understand, so you’ll have to tell him everything.

As you tell Joel everything that happened the other night he leads you to your kitchen, pushing back a chair as he sits you down slowly. He crouches in front of you, rubbing his warm palms over your chilled skin, and it feels good. So good.

“That’s,” he breathes out in disbelief, “that’s awful. I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t deserve this, being treated like this by your boss.”

“My uncle,” you correct, eyes dancing along his concerned face.

“What?” this time it’s not a gasp, it’s anger. Pure wretched anger. “Edward is your uncle? Your uncle sold you? Your own family, someone who is supposed to protect you, sold you!” he asks angrily, eyes darkening as his nostrils flare uncontrollably.

He stands and starts pacing around your room, clenching his fists beside him as he can barely keep the anger in any longer. He’s going to fucking murder him, too.

“Please calm down, Joel.”

“Calm down? Calm down! This is vile. Cruel. Abhorrent. This is, there’s no words for what this is!” He’s raising his voice, and you start to feel yourself putting up your walls again as you jump onto the defense.

“Why did you even come here tonight if you’re just going to yell at me?” you ask shakily, standing up and dropping the table cloth to the floor as you expose your torn blue dress. The skirt of your dress is almost fully detached from the bottom of your hips and wet patches of spilled bourbon stick uncomfortably against your skin. His eyes widen as he takes in the torn dress, eyes turning to sadness as he sees the beautiful material ripped to shreds.

“I’m not yelling at you. I’m just,” he pauses, running his hand over his patchy scruff in frustration, the other falling to his side defeatedly. “I think I’m - well I…” He stops his sentence and drags his eyes over your ruined dress. “Baby, your dress…” he says quietly, eyebrows knitting together in full concern.

You lower your eyes and run your hands over the torn material of silk, see the way the sparkly material hangs like a ripped up washrag. This was your favorite dress, too…

“I know, I know. They just couldn’t help themselves, could they?” Your eyes flash up to his, and you see sorrow in them as soft brown eyes search yours carefully.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You sure did look beautiful in it, too. So very beautiful. My Sparkling Diamond…”

Both his hands fall to his hips as you walk over to him. You need to know what he was about to say before he changed the subject. Save me, tell me you love me, you think to yourself. “What were you going to say to me, Joel? You stopped your sentence,” you coo, eyes flicking up to his softly. Finish what you were going to say.

“Nothing. It’s not your fault, I don’t want to make you feel that way.”

“This can be our space, Joel. What happened tonight is part of my job, but I can endure all of that if it means that we get this. Can you?”

He looks at you carefully, weighing his options. But it doesn’t take him long before he pulls you into his arms, one hand landing on your lower back as the other cradles the back of your skull. You relax into his touch, sinking all your weight into him. You you can endure anything as long as it brings you back here. To Joel. To the man that you are sure loves you just as much as you love him, even if neither of you have dared to say the words yet. You know. This is it for you, Terrance or not, this is where you belong.

“Yes, darlin’. Even if it kills me to see it, I’ll always be here for you.” He presses his lips to the top of your head. “Go take a shower, baby. I’ll be right here waiting. I brought my guitar if you want to play?” he asks with hope in his large brown eyes.

You smile into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist tighter. “I don’t really know how. I only managed to learn a little…” you say quietly.

He laughs a little and pulls back to look into your eyes. “You have a guitar in the corner of your room,” he chuckles softly.

“I know,” you say, laughing back at him, “I want to learn more. Will you teach me?”

He lowers his head to press his lips gently to yours. “Go shower and I’ll teach ya.”

“Alright.” You brush past his hand and feel the warm heat inside you as you walk away towards your lit up bathroom with beads of pearls strewn across your wide mirror. You turn back to see him watching you, and you smile shyly as you close the door and disappear from his view.

You unzip your torn to shreds dress and let it fall in a heap on the ground, climbing into the shower as you let the warm heat rinse away the taste of regret on your sweaty skin. You take the dusty pink washcloth and soak your skin with vanilla soap. Making sure to scrub off every inch of bourbon and dirty fingerprints that those nasty men had left on you.

You watch the dirt fall down the drain, feel your skin come back to life as the clean skin seems to glow. This is how you’re supposed to feel, not like how you felt up there on the balcony with those savages. You felt used, like a dirty ragdoll that they could do whatever they wanted with you, but you wouldn’t let them do it again. You’d rather ruin your chances with Terrance and watch the Moulin Rouge fall apart than be back up in that dark booth again where no one could save you. Where your silent screams couldn’t be heard.

When you finish with your shower, you cut off the water and dry off quickly, wrapping a pink silky robe around yourself as you comb through your curls and put on fresh red lipstick. You pucker your lips together and spray a dash of sweet smelling perfume on your neck. As you take one more look at yourself, you pull the sliding doors open and walk back into the room to find Joel sitting on the window seat by the open balcony strumming along softly on his guitar.

You watch the way his thick fingers graze gently along each string, watch him hum to the beat of the song he plays quietly. He looks so good, so beautiful sitting there in the moonlight with his tousled curls falling gently over his eyes. You think you see heaven in those soft brown eyes of his, think you see the man you want to spend forever with.

When you pad across the wooden floors, he looks up slowly and smiles at you as his lips curl into an infectious grin. “There’s my girl. C’mere.” He curls his index finger toward him and coaxes you to follow. You do so without hesitation.

When you make it over to him, he puts his guitar to the side and spreads his thighs to make room for you. As you turn around, he pulls you up against his broad chest and places the guitar in your hands, hooking his arms around you as he puts his hands gently over yours and guides them to the strings. Your breath hitches at the contact.

“Is this okay, baby?” he asks. You nod your head before he continues. “Let me take you through all the basic chords, then I can show you a simple song or two.”

He grazes his calloused fingers over yours and slowly takes you through each cord, careful to explain each note and how to be gentle with it. It doesn’t take you long to pick up on what he shows you and takes less time to actually teach you the first song.

“Alright, go slow,” he instructs, keeping his hands on yours as he talks you through the notes. “Yeah, just like that. There ya go. Doin’ so good, sweetheart. You’re a natural,” he praises as he brushes his lips against your jawline, dragging it down slowly as he places a gentle kiss against your cheek. You about melt at the sweetness of it all, of him.

“You really think I’m doing good?” you ask with a giggle, feeling his right hand trace lines up and down your right arm as you continue to strum along the taut strings.

“Think you’re doin’ amazing, darlin’. Such a good little guitar player,” he praises as he places another kiss to your jawline. You nearly fall apart every time he praises you, kissing you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever planted his lips on.

When the song ends, he places the guitar to the side and wraps his arms around your waist as he entwines his fingers with yours. He makes an assessment of the bright walls that are covered with pink wallpaper and jewels and looks down to take in the soft pink robe that’s latched around you.

“You sure do love pink, don’t ya?” he asks with a soft chuckle that sounds like music to your ears.

“Mhm,” you hum as you lean against his broad chest and melt into his touch.

“That your favorite color?” he asks gently.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a playful smirk.

“Lucky guess,” he laughs as he grins down at you with soft brown eyes.

“And yours? What’s your favorite color?” you ask as you turn to face out the window, looking upon the lit up city as it sits below your view.

“Blue. Not just any blue. A deep navy blue, like the color of your dress. That’s my favorite color, the one you picked out at the dress shop. Thought I was having a heart attack seein’ ya in it tonight. You looked beautiful, just like a rare precious diamond. But you are a diamond, aren’t ya? You’re the rarest Sparkling Diamond I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he breathes out quietly as he trails a finger along your jawline, gently pushing a curl behind your ear as you turn around to face him.

You look up into his eyes and all you see are warm flecks of sunlight that shine down upon you, sinking into your eyes as you let your arms hook around the back of his neck. You think you see love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees it there in yours, too.

“Joel Miller, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met. The most handsome, kind, and gentle man I ever laid eyes on. You know that?” you ask with a smile as he cups your chin and raises your face to his, just inches from his lips.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asks with the corners of his mouth curling up into the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Mhm,” you nod as your fingers wind around the curls on the nape of his neck.

“Does that mean you’re mine?” he asks quietly as he traces his thumb against your lower lip, making butterflies flit down in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m all yours,” you answer. And that’s all the answer he needs as he falls into your lips and kisses you deeply as his fingers curl around your long locks and his other hand pulls you tight to his chest. He tastes like heaven, smells like his acoustic guitar, all woodsy and mahogany. And you think you want to stay right here in his arms forever.

“Good, I’m yours, too. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you again.” The two of you sit quietly, tangled into one another, almost as if you’re trying to become one. “So? You gonna teach me something now?”

You giggle into his skin, contemplating what you should show him. You don’t have any clay, but you planned to pick some up tomorrow on your day off. “Hmmm, we will have to get up if you want me to teach you something.”

He loosens his grip on you, wrapping his hands around your waist and helps lift you up. You spin gracefully towards him and grab his hands, tugging him up to his feet. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised as you place one of his large palms on the small of your back, your hand trailing up his strong forearm and bicep before finding a home on his shoulder. You place your other hand in his and hold it out to the side of your body.

“What are we doin’ here, sweet girl?” Joel asks, slightly nervous that you’re about to see him make a fool of himself.

You smile up at him, stepping in so close that your breasts are pressed up against his broad chest. “I feel sexiest when I’m doing the waltz.”

Joel feels his stomach drop. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” You giggle a little as he adds, “But anything for you, always anything for you.”

“I promise it’s easy, the tempo is slow-slow-quick-quick, you repeat it twice in the shape of a box.” Joel looks at you like you’re speaking a different language, confusion furrowing in his brows and you can’t stop the smile that lights up your face. “Just follow me.”

Joel can’t tear his eyes off you, trying to follow but bumps into you and presses his toes against yours instead. You carry out a loud laugh. “Joel, look at your feet until you get the hang of it.”

“Can’t,” he says, “you’re too pretty.”

You stop moving your feet and look up at him. “Kiss me then.”

His lips come down to yours gently and he brings the hand he’s holding to rest on his shoulder, sliding his hand down to your waist gently as he hooks his arms around you tightly. You hum into his kiss as he starts to sway from side to side. He might not be able to waltz but this feels better, so much better.

You break the kiss hesitantly and look back up into honey colored eyes. “Please, stay the night. The club is closed tomorrow, Edward is leaving for the day. Please, Joel?”

He kisses you again slowly as his lips graze softly against yours. “I can’t say no when you say please like that, darlin’.”

You kiss him again, curving your lips up into a tight smile as his lips mould against yours. “Then it’s settled then, tonight you’re mine.”

“Tonight I’m yours,” he whispers back as his forehead leans against yours and his fingers entwine around yours.

Minutes later you’re tucked snuggly under the fuzzy fleece blanket, laying against Joel’s chest as he wraps his arms around you and combs his fingers through your smooth locks. You sink into his space, feel yourself get lost in his savory scent as your fingers trail up and down his inner arm as you trace each vein like they’re the map to his heart.

You could stay here forever in his arms, get lost in each other as you both breathe each other in again and again and again. This is where you belong, in Joel’s arms. This is right. This is home.

You let your eyes fall closed as he continues to soothe you to sleep with his warm touches and gentle kisses. “Goodnight, sweet girl. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let his words bring you peace as you feel yourself fade off into the dark. The last thing you remember is him kissing the top of your head and whispering words you can’t quite make out.

Home. He’s home.

72 notes · View notes

multiversxwhore · 2 months

Text

Bayley x black!fem reader

Warnings: alcohol, under the influence.

A/n: I’ve been mulling over rather I should do any type of sapphic/ wlw fic for a very long while just never knew how to go about it. Plus the “BBL Bayley” line was the finale straw lmao. Anywho I just really wanted to have fun with this, the idea of Bayley being down bad for a plus size Black woman just make sense in my spirit. This is not edited like at all, I typed this whole thing on tumblr which is a risky move iykyk. I hope y’all enjoy, let me know if you want more. Reblog, and follow for more. ( follow my wrestling side blog for even more wwe fics @slutouttanowhere )

Spin

You typically wouldn’t be in the club till 3am, but it was Wrestlemania weekend, everyone was acting bad. Like on their worst behavior, there were three different hotel parties going on as the company had rented out the whole establishment. You, Liv, and Naomi, your inner click, was hotel room hopping. The last room you ended up in was the most unhinged, of course this happened to Damian, and company, hotel. As soon as you crossed the threshold someone was handing you a red solo, despite the fact you already had a mini, clear cup in your hand from Austin’s room you finished off the mini cup, then moved on to the red solo.

“Oh shit! The champs in the building!” Damian’s loud ass voice shouted over the music, everyone turned to us cheering, and raising their drinks. On cue Naomi and I raised our new shiny golden titles, a group of our colleges swallowed the three of us into the mix. ‘Aye, it’s 7pm Friday, it’s 95 degrees.’ GloRilla’s thick Memphis accent cut off any words you planned on saying. You were already too gone to care about acting professional, the liquor getting the best of you. You hopped into Damian’s arms, wrapped your legs around your bus waist, and screamed along to Glo’s lyrics. “I’m about to show my ass, these niggas love a freak!” You popped your ass while hanging off Damian like he was a jungle gym. Which you know he loved, he made a habit of him being one of the biggest men on the roaster his whole personality. And he was an attention whore.

The liquor was making the room sway, you hadn’t even noticed when you were out back on your feet, but when the music changed again your body moved accordingly. You stumbled to a near by couch and threw your title down, it being far to bulky for you to dance in, however Dolph made it look easy all these years you don’t think you could pull it off. ‘This type shit have you wildin…’ you swayed your hips, slowly twirling them in circles, and your hands caressing your body. Another pair of hands wrapped around your waist, they pulled you into them, you didn’t care who it was, as long as they caught your rhythm. That they did. “I thought I seen that ass walk through the door.” Bayley softly breathed into your ear, her lips pressed to your earlobe, a soft giggle came from her. Which isn’t too out of character for her, Bayley is known to be a bit of a goof, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice her going the extra mile to get more than a chuckle out of you. Your eyes slid down her body, you weren’t used to seeing her wear all black, but her one piece, black body suit accentuated her curves. The embellishments of lace detailing throughout the outfits added a sexy touch to it without doing too much. She had a diamond, Cuban link, a matching bracelet, and an expensive looking watch on her wrist. Her eyes caught how your tongue flicked out, and slid over your perfect white teeth. Your lips pulling back into a grin.

You leaned your body against hers, your outfit more than revealing allowing her to feel your skin with ease. “You’re so soft y/n.” She whispered, her hands pressing to your midsection, and gently squeezing your tummy. You reached behind you, and wrapped your arms lazily around her neck. You could feel her buzz cut from on the side of her head, you always thought Bayley to be pretty, beautiful even. As of recently though with her character change, her wardrobe, and the way she carried herself changed as well. It made you look at her with brand new eyes, she even started talking to you with more convictions as if she just knew she was gonna get you into bed with her…and she was.

You turned in her arms to face her, the pit of your stomach full of butterflies, the alcohol lingering, so you held onto that liquid courage as long as you could. “Kiss me.” You murmured under the blasting music, ‘we can’t just keep talking about, we think too often about it, we can’t just can’t be cautious about it. I wanna get wild.’ You noticed how she slowed her movements, Bayley knew you didn’t care too much about labels, or much about what others thought of you. However, dancing together was one thing, you and the other girls are usually touchy with one another, this was something else.

“You sure?” Her hands held you by hips, she didn’t make a move till you nodded your head. Her hand gently grabbing her chin, your gazes locked, under this lighting you couldn’t really tell what she was thinking. You let your bodies do all the talking, she pulled you into her, she isn’t the tallest, but she talk enough to tower over you. Your eyes fluttered closed as your glossed lips pressed to her, at first she kissed you back softly. The pulsing between your thighs caused you to become slick with your own juices, you had no idea how you were still standing on your own two feet right now. Between the effects all the shots of Cos Amigos, and the way Bayley squeezed your ass, all your coherent thoughts flew out the window. You and Bayley’s eyes fluttered open at the same time, a lustrous look in both your eyes. “You’re so damn fine y/n, you gonna let me taste you?” Bayley pecked at your lips, you stuck your tongue out, and she met you half way. Your tongues swirled around, slipping, and sliding in a wet tangled kiss…if you can even call it that.

“I want you to slurp it Bay.” You moaned out, your nipples twisted painful. The fabric of your shirt top making you regret not wearing a bra with it, it was too late to go back now. The two of you weren’t even dancing anymore, just slowly swaying as you held Bayley as close to you as possible. Her hands slid up and down your back relaxing you beyond what any nights sleep routine could.

“Mm, I bet your pussies so pretty too, I daydream about it. What you taste like, what you like between those beautiful thick thighs of yours…” Bayley went into detail about how your pearl is pretty and brown, and your plushie your labia lips probably were. At a certain point you didn’t have it in you to actually pay attention to because now all you could think about was how fucking pretty she looked. The lighting was purple, but it looked good on her tan skin. Her dimples pushing in on her cheeks every time she talked, and that fucking half shaved buzz cut was doing it for you more than she understood.

You pressed your index finger to her lips, “and you can show me all that in a little while.” You shushed her playfully, you thought it was cute when she rambled, but tonight wasn’t the night for that. “When we get back to my room…I wanna see all that shit you promised.” You purred, you pressed your lips to her again, this time you met each other in the middle of a deeper, hotter kiss. Reluctantly you pulled away, caught your breath, and looked around the hotel room. It looked trashed, the big crowd that was originally al in the center of the room had fanned out. A lot of your colleges were either passed out, on their way, or drunkenly chatting another persons ears off. You caught Liv and Finn off in a far corner damn near dry humping each other, his bucket hat clinched in Livs hand as he sucked on her neck. ‘I told him about that damn hat, it’s a hoe magnet.’ You thought to yourself, Naomi was no where to be found, but knowing her she was in the bathroom on the phone with Jimmy.

“You ready to go? I got your title.” Bayley wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you back into her side. You could feel yourself sobering up as the minutes passed by, but that didn’t disrupt your desperate need to have Bayley between your thighs.

You kissed her on the cheek, and took the title from her hands, then took her by the hand. “Yeah.” You spoke ever so softly, if it weren’t for looking directly at your lips you would have thought she didn’t hear you. Without anyone caring to notice, you and Bayley slipped out of Damian’s room, making the long journey back to yours.

#bayley x reader #bayley fanfiction #wwe fan fiction #black!reader #plus size reader #—tokio

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lichmyass · 3 months

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Yautja WIP - 18+ / Trigger warning

Will eventually be a romance...maybe. again, super long. NOT FOR MINORS. TRIGGER WARNINGS- ALL OF THEM. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRESION.

Flies buzz among the hides left to tan under the baking sun, drawn by minuscule fragments of fat. My mind lazily floats in a haze of childhood memories as my eyes stare at nothing.

Acrid air thick with cigarette smoke, the smell of overflowing trash bins, cicadas screaming en masse, and the summer heat distorting the air outside the dingy window visible beyond the nails driven into its rotting wooden frame. Muffled screaming from another room as my mother fights with one of the many men she dubs 'boyfriend.' Anxiety pulses through my body, matching the dull aches left from bruises and broken bones.

The throbbing pain from my early memories isn't too different from the numb pain radiating through me now. I shift slightly, and the heavy chain tethering me to the ground by the ankle clinks, drawing me from my thoughts. Sweat drips down from my hairline, dampening my brows. The heat from the cracked, baked earth rises, fading into my sore body.

I’m unsure what to feel in this situation. Initially, there was panic, fear, and icy horror at the surety of imminent death. I witnessed men torn apart in ways that made reality itself quake and tremble. These men, who seemed to be made of diamond and steel, violently broke my body as if it were made of paper.

The men shattered bloodily, as if by the air itself, until waves of their blood bathed the forms of invisible monsters before my eyes. It was over in less than a minute. When I blinked, the monsters became real, and I was circled by three titans.

I held my breath, awaiting the verdict of their silent judgment.

A full night and half a day passed. Now, I sit chained to the ground where they had deposited me before shimmering away into the ether. If they don't unmake me like they did the others, the sun will surely burn away what little life I have left. I’ll be little more than a dried-out corpse in no time, like a worm on a sidewalk.

Living in a rural township in Oklahoma, I was already secluded. Now, I've been carted off further into sprawling, long-abandoned farmland withering in the record-breaking summer heat. The only ones likely to find my body will be buzzards and coyotes.

My skin stings, and I know the burns will blister and scar. My throat feels as dry as the dirt I sit on. Wasps rise and buzz away intermittently from the cracking brown stalks of prairie grass around me. I hope to pass out soon, letting death overtake me as painlessly as possible.

I let my body slowly fall from my sitting position to lay belly-down, relieving my strained back muscles and letting blood circulate through my legs and rear. The dirt itself somehow smells like heat. I cast my eyes to the only shade around, the small puddles under the hides stretched over makeshift racks of bramble. I envy the insects that seek refuge there.

The hides, remnants of men who are now little more than muffled memories. I hadn't really known them, scarcely able to summon names to their faces. Only a familiarity from living in a small town, seeing the same faces from the other side of the register during my shifts at the local food mart. One might have been in my graduating high school class, but nearly two decades and evident drug habits had made that idea more a suggestion. Another wore the uniform of the local prison staff—the prison being the county’s only notable feature.

Their looks made me uncomfortable as I scanned their beer and cigarettes, but I maintained my standard retail employee fake smile and wished them a good day. Not long after, the store manager announced a prison break over the speaker, advising everyone to return home.

Prison inmates escaping wasn’t unusual. One or two managed every year. The news was more an annoyance. As I shut down my register and counted my till, I noticed more police officers on the streets than usual, several from other counties. That wasn't unexpected either.

What struck me as odd, as I walked through the store to the office and past the front windows, was the strained expressions and tense body language of the officers in the parking lot. They gathered and discussed something urgently. Typically, they got excited, even giddy, at such events. It was usually the most activity they got all year.

I clocked out and exited through the side door into the alley beside the train tracks, which I always followed for about a quarter of a mile home. I never made it that far. The men had been waiting behind an abandoned auto-shop, a blanket of empty beer cans and cigarette butts littering the eroded cement around them.

As a woman, I was aware of the statistics. But a tiny part of my brain had always assumed I wouldn’t contribute to them. Boys in school wouldn’t have touched me with a ten-foot pole and were vocal about it. A tiny reassuring voice always piped up, ‘oh, you won’t have to worry about all that,’ whenever a newscaster reported an attack on some poor woman. The photos always showed pretty little things a quarter my weight.

I thought I’d be safe from that particular danger, more likely to get bitten by a copperhead on my way home late at night than singled out by men with ill intent. I was wrong. It took me a shameful amount of time to recognize the threat as I walked past them with barely a second thought.

They followed me almost the whole way home. I didn’t notice until I smelled cheap beer on their breath and felt a grimy hand clamp down on my shoulder. One grabbed a handful of my hair at the base of my skull as another punched me so hard in the gut I threw up. I was dragged through a vacant lot into what had once been an RV park, where they started beating me.

Beatings weren’t new to me. Strangely, a part of me was resigned to lay there and let it pass. A morbid feeling of familiarity rustled inside my skull. It wasn’t until belt buckles clicked and wheezing chuckles filled the humid air that panic pricked at my skin. Two of them held me down, pressing my arms into the ground as gravel embedded itself into my belly. I began kicking furiously and screaming, my voice a death-rattle. The back of my head was struck, and I saw stars as my mouth opened and closed like a fish in desperation. I felt dirty fingers tugging at my waistband, and then everything stopped.

For a moment, the world froze around me. Then came the screaming and the blood.

And here I am, wondering if this situation is any better than the fate I would have had. I know I won’t last much longer, and every second I do will be hell.

Fractional relief comes once the sun sets, though the slightly decreased temperature and lack of sun exposure come at the cost of swarms of mosquitoes descending upon me, irritating my already blistered flesh. I close my eyes lightly, to avoid stretching my stinging skin. My head swims as pain throbs in my bones.

The insects abruptly silence around me. I crack my eyes open and stiffen. Somewhere to my right, something emits an ear-piercing scream that makes my hearing fuzz out. Suddenly, I’m on my feet quicker than I thought possible, crouched low and heart pounding. It’s not the sound of any animal I know, though it resembles a coyote’s scream. There's a quality about it that---

struck me as inherently wrong. Thankful for the small amount of light from the nearly full moon, I scanned my surroundings for something, anything, to defend myself with as the tall grass rustled before me. Gritting my teeth, I slowly crouched lower and began to wind the chain tethering me in my hands, stopping when it grew taut.

The grass stilled, and there was a low hiss, akin to a cat’s. I could just make out the moonlight glinting off something dark and smooth, coiling as if about to strike.

With strength I didn’t know I had, I strained my muscles to the breaking point and ripped the long metal spike pinning the chain into the ground free. No sooner had it come loose than the creature launched itself at me. Its body struck, and I hit the hard ground with a thud, the air forced from my lungs.

Sharp claws tore at my shoulders. Instinctively, my hand found the metal spike, and I drove it as hard as I could into the creature’s head—elongated and slightly curved, with no visible eyes. I wasn’t strong enough, a part of me noted grimly, as the creature screamed and flailed in rage.

Scrambling frantically, I managed to push myself out from under it as its long tail slashed through the air and its maw snapped shut. I rose to my feet as it hissed again. The bottom of my shoe found the head of the spike. With a scream of desperation, I put all my strength into it, dropping my body weight onto it. Relief flooded me as I felt, rather than heard, a sickening pop and crunch as the creature fell limp.

My brief victory was cut short when the bottom of my foot began to burn. I ripped my shoe off quicker than lightning, watching it melt away on the ground where I’d dropped it. Plopping down on my butt, I gathered my foot to inspect it, wincing when I ghosted my fingertips over the sole. Luckily, it didn’t feel worse than a slight burn.

I realized I was breathing hard, practically panting, my veins buzzing. I eyed the creature for a long, hard minute before letting myself fall backward with an exhale, satisfied it was truly dead.

I breathed in and out, closing my eyes for a moment. When I rose and pulled the chain, I found most of it dissolved like my shoe. The remaining length was awkward—too short to carry but long enough to trip me up or catch on brambles. With a huff, I removed my other shoe and pulled the laces free, wrapping the chain around my ankle and securing it with the laces. I didn’t want the chain making any unnecessary noise; not if I was going to try to make it back home without another one of those things finding me.

The terrain would be hard on my bare feet, but it wouldn’t be any worse than what I’d already suffered.

Taking a deep breath, I took a few steps in the direction of home, promptly hitting the ground as my overly strained muscles turned to jelly. My brain filled with curses as I balled my fist and hit the ground, letting out a growl of frustration. I got on my hands and knees and began to crawl. I didn’t care how long it took; I just wanted to get home.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t made it more than a few hundred feet—my knees already raw and bloodied—when rapid clicking sounded around me. I froze. I knew this sound. Them.

My eyes frantically darted around, but I saw nothing through the dry blades of grass I was hidden in. If I was lucky, maybe I could stay hidden and wait them out. I tensed and held my breath, heart pounding in my ears. The grass around me rustled softly. I felt like a fox surrounded by hounds, fighting the urge to bolt. I knew I wouldn’t make it far. I doubted I’d even get to my feet, let alone run. Even if I could, I wasn’t a fast runner by any means.

Abruptly, I was pulled backwards. I found myself huffing out and blinking skyward, my brain stuttering.

A large, masked form stood over me, chittering like an insect. In the moonlight, his mesh-covered scaly skin looked almost iridescent, like an oil-slick. His hair-like tresses, not dissimilar to dreadlocks, swayed slightly as he cocked his head. I tensed as he suddenly crouched, massive claw-tipped fingers reaching up to pull small hoses from his mask with a hiss before he removed it. My eyes widened.

Glowing orange eyes set deep within their sockets above a quartet of long digits growing from each cheekbone and either side of his jaw, connected by a thin membrane like a bat's wing over a wickedly sharp fanged maw. No discernable nose or nostrils. A large sloping forehead ending in a fanned crest tipped in subtle spikes. His mandibles spread slowly, only to close just as slowly as my eyes numbly took his visage in.

I emitted a sound, low and scratchy, like a brooding hen. He blinked.

Shimmering into my vision, his two companions stared down at me, their own steely masks affixed as the trio exchanged what I assumed must be words of some kind—a series of clicks and vowel sounds. The individual before me rose, addressing the one to his left and my right, moving his large hands expressly as he seemed to speak. I flinched as he gestured to my ankle, then back toward where I had been. The one to my left spoke, and silence fell as three sets of eyes focused on me.

I tried, and failed, to sit up. The trio cocked their heads. I sighed and closed my eyes. I didn’t have any strength left. None at all. Silently, I hoped they’d just leave and let me die in peace. No such luck. The unmasked one crouched again, grasping my upper arm and simply pulling me to my feet like a ragdoll. Once I was standing, he released my arm, and I gasped, clutching his hip—just under chest height for me—to stop myself from falling.

The creature hissed and swatted my hand away. I fell back to the ground with a hard thud and a groan before another repeated the first's action, keeping a firm grip on my arm to keep me steady. When it became evident I could only move at a slow hobble at best, I gasped again as I was swept up into giant arms, carried like a child, over-tired from play.

The rough texture of scales rubbed painfully against the burnt skin on my shoulder as I was awkwardly carried back to the site with the tanning racks. The one carrying me obviously wanted to minimize physical contact, one hand spanning my right shoulder and the other bracing my lower back from the left.

Back where I had been tethered, another interacted with a gauntlet on his right forearm. A structure shimmered into view—a large ramp descending silently. I distantly realized it was some sort of aircraft as I was carried inside and deposited roughly onto a large stone platform covered in animal pelts.

My eyes roamed over strange carvings on the metal walls, pausing on the far wall which displayed an armory of strange weapons—spears, knives, whips, and other sharp metallic objects. The trio exchanged more words as one rummaged through large metal crates and another exited briefly, returning with the head of the creature I’d encountered earlier. He strode across the room and behind a large partition made of hide. The unmasked one regarded me from where he stood before me, clawed hands on his hips.

The one searching a crate paused and lifted something out, showing it to the unmasked one, who simply nodded and stalked over to me, large hands pinning me down by the shoulders. I frowned and clenched my teeth as the other appeared to my left, brandishing what looked like the world’s biggest needle before jabbing it into my side without ceremony.

Pain unlike anything I’d ever known seared through my body. All I could do was gasp like a fish as my vision went white, too overwhelmed to even scream as massive hands kept me firmly pinned down. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted. Feeling nauseous sometime later as the white-hot waves of pain began to ebb, sweat slicked my skin.

I blinked rapidly up at the alien face regarding me stoically. Its molten gaze seemed almost…curious.

“Ouch,” I croaked out, surprising myself as much as the alien above me. I hadn’t meant to speak, but maybe the look he’d had inspired me to provide an unasked-for response.

The one who’d injected me made a sound then—a low, rasping series of growls that sounded like laughter. I glared at him for his audacity. Returning my gaze to the unmasked one, I lifted my brows at the mirth I found there as he slowly released my shoulders and took a single step back.

I sat up, mouth parting as I felt my strength returning. Slowly, I raised my hands to run my fingers carefully over my face, finding that my skin was smooth and unburnt. I turned my head to scowl at the one who had injected me, who only laughed more.

The unmasked one had scales composed of shades of black and gray, reflecting light and reminding me of a mythical dragon. The one who had healed me looked more crocodilian with dark green scales mingling with lighter green and pale yellow on his palms and exposed belly. The third one, who had disappeared across the room, had similar coloration but with more earthy brown mingling with his green, and the paler parts were more tan.

Faster than I could process, I was jabbed again, this time behind the ear. I squawked and clapped my hand over the newest injection site. My tormentor held his hands up in peace, what appeared to be a piercing gun dangling from one large finger as he continued to chuckle at me.

My ears rang, and I clenched my eyelids shut, letting out a hiss as the ringing slowly faded. I reopened my eyes to glare daggers at the needle-happy sadist as the unmasked one leaned forward with interest. Both he and the masked one stared at me, unblinking. I blinked back at them.

“Did it work?” asked the one who had injected me, in perfect English. I gasped, looking at him with my mouth open. “Ah! It seems to have worked,” he added, stepping back and tilting his massive head. The unmasked one crossed his muscled arms over his chest, fixing me with a slight glare of his own.

“Why doesn’t it speak?” he asked, his coquelicot eyes narrowing at the other, who merely shrugged. “Perhaps it is defective?”

At this, the other placed his talon-tipped hands on his hips indignantly. “Veidei, you of all should know that my technology is without fault, and I—”

Veidei silenced him by raising a hand. “No, you fool. I refer to the ooman. Perhaps it is defective,” he spoke, scrutinizing me.

I frowned as they stared at me, mirroring them as I crossed my own arms over my chest. “Maybe so, but I can speak,” I managed, my voice rough. “Why did y’all save me?”

They regarded me silently. The dark one—Veidei—inhaled deeply, casting a knowing glance toward the other.

“Routine planetary scans alerted us to the presence of Kainde Amedha here, and they are not permitted to be on this planet outside of a sanctioned Chiva. So we were dispatched to eliminate them and investigate the nature of their presence here. It seems that your governing body purposefully introduced them to your ‘prison’ in what we can only assume was some form of idiotic experiment,” the green one stated matter-of-factly. “We destroyed them, the site, and all involved. Except for the singular one that you yourself seem to have dispatched, somehow.”

I let this information sink in. The ‘Kainde Amedha’ wasn’t something the apparent translator implanted behind my ear could parse. Given what he’d said, it was obviously the thing I’d killed. The concept of more of those running rampant inside the prison made me feel queasy. I shook my head to rid the image of the creature from my mind.

"That's all fine and good," I began, leveling my gaze at him as best I could despite the metal mask he wore. "But that didn’t answer my question."

He cocked his head, and his mandibles clicked behind his mask.

“I will elaborate, Tho’ka. It was on my orders that we acted,” spoke Veidei, leaning down a bit to better catch my gaze. “We were scouting the area and noticed one of the males exiting the site. We followed him, thinking he might reveal more information. He did not. We watched as he and the two other males became intoxicated and were about to return to the site when they acted dishonorably. So we dealt with them.”

I furrowed my brow and shifted uncomfortably where I sat, my fingers finding a loose thread at the hem of my shirt and worrying it. “Dishonorably? So you killed them because they tried to rape me?”

Veidei and Tho’ka cocked their heads in tandem. “Of course. It was dishonorable,” stated Tho’ka, as if confused that I didn’t grasp the concept.

“But...you don’t even know me. You’re not even human,” I replied numbly. “Why? Why bother?”

Veidei reared back as if he’d been slapped and let out a rumbling growl. “We are Yautja. We have Honor. Do not think we are like oomans who would permit such acts to go unpunished. When you stand by and allow dishonorable acts to happen, you may as well be committing them yourself. We honor Paya by remembering this, as we honor ourselves by remembering the codes of our people,” he spoke, eyes burning with passion as he stood tall.

I blinked as Tho’ka nodded in agreement.

“So then you tied me up and left me to die of exposure,” I deadpanned. Just like that, Veidei looked like a kicked puppy so quickly that I might’ve laughed if my mood had allowed for it.

Tho’ka strode around the platform I sat on to reassuringly touch Veidei’s shoulder briefly before he turned slightly to face me. “We might’ve underestimated how long our hunt would take, a little,” he spoke, having the courtesy to sound a bit regretful.

“Fine,” I said with an exhale. “So, now what?” I added, brow raised.

Tho’ka removed his mask and clipped it to his belt, stretching his mandibles slightly and leveling a citrine gaze at me. I braced myself for what instinct told me would be bad news as he took a small step closer.

“Our laws prohibit us from leaving witnesses,” he began steadily, raising his large hands slowly in a demonstration of peace. “But you were unworthy prey—killing you would have been against our laws as well.”

I stiffened, my eyes darting around, looking for exits as Veidei shifted to block me in from the right and Tho’ka blocked me in from the left. My hackles rose as I realized that, at some point, the other one—whose name I hadn’t heard yet—had come to stand behind me without making a single sound.

“So...” I stalled, gulping.

“You dispatched one of the Kainde Amedha. Which means you now qualify as worthy prey,” spoke Veidei, his voice low. “However,” he added when my panic spiked, “if you were Yautja, it would mean you were now a blooded warrior.”

Silence fell heavily as my heart pounded in my ears, the air thick with tension.

“We can either hunt you, or...” spoke Tho’ka, casting his gaze to Veidei curiously, as if he himself were unsure what the final decision would be.

From what I could gather so far, Veidei seemed to be the de facto leader of the trio. My eyes scoured his for any indication of his intent.

“Clearly, it is ill-suited to be a sain’ja,” spoke the one behind me.

“Perhaps an ‘aseigan,’” he added.

“Nah’kou offers a viable option, Veidei,” mused Tho’ka, as Veidei tilted his head in consideration.

I had no idea what an ‘aseigan’ was, but it sounded better than dead. I bit the tip of my tongue between my teeth and awaited Veidei’s decision.

Veidei's eyes, a fiery coquelicot hue, studied me intently. His mandibles twitched slightly, indicating deep thought. Tho’ka and Nah’kou, the one behind me, watched their leader, waiting for his judgment.

After what felt like an eternity, Veidei spoke. “An ‘aseigan’ is one who serves the Yautja, often a mark of great dishonor or redemption. It is not a role given lightly.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “You have proven yourself resilient, if nothing else.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “What does being an ‘aseigan’ entail?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

Tho’ka stepped closer, his mandibles clicking softly. “It means you will serve us, follow our commands, and prove your worth over time. You will not be hunted, but you will not be free.”

Veidei nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. “Your life will be spared, but it will be a hard one. You will earn your place among us, or you will die trying.”

The reality of my situation sank in. Serving these alien hunters, living by their rules, was far from ideal, but it was survival. I nodded slowly, meeting Veidei’s intense gaze. “I understand,” I said. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Nah’kou let out a low, approving growl, while Tho’ka’s eyes glinted with something akin to respect. Veidei, satisfied with my response, straightened to his full height.

“Very well,” Veidei declared. “You will be our aseigan. Prove yourself, and you may find a place among us.”

With that, the tension in the room shifted. The immediate threat of death was replaced by the daunting challenge ahead. I knew my journey was far from over, but at least I had a chance to fight for my survival.

Tho’ka and Nah’kou began to converse in their native tongue, their voices a mix of clicks and growls. Veidei motioned for me to follow him. As I stood, I realized the gravity of my new reality. I was now part of their world, bound by their laws and expectations.

We moved through the ship’s corridors, the alien technology both fascinating and intimidating. Veidei led me to a small chamber, sparsely furnished but functional. “This will be your quarters,” he said. “Rest now. Your training begins tomorrow.”

I nodded, stepping into the room. As the door closed behind me, I felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension. I had survived the immediate danger, but my new life as an aseigan would be a constant test of my endurance and willpower.

I sank onto the small cot, exhaustion washing over me. The events of the past days played through my mind, a whirlwind of fear, pain, and unexpected allies. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself a moment of respite, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges and unknown trials.

For now, I was alive. And that was enough.

But as I lay there, the enormity of my situation loomed. What would this new life demand of me? Could I rise to the challenge and find a place among these alien warriors? The questions swirled in my mind, refusing to let me rest.

A soft hum emanated from the walls, a reminder of the ship's vastness and the world beyond this small chamber. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever lay ahead. This was not the end of my story—only the beginning of a new chapter.

Whether my future held redemption or further trials, only time would tell. But one thing was certain: I would face it head-on, with the same resilience that had brought me this far. As sleep finally claimed me, I made a silent vow to survive, to fight, and to find my place in this strange new world.

Whatever it takes.

#Yautja #predator #monster fucker #terato #terat0philliac #My writing

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