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tornado1992 · 3 months

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Sonic and The Black Knight AU in which Sonic’s from that world, he’s an explorer of some sorts and he does technically live in Camelot with his brother Miles, but he spends most of his time traveling around and getting new stuff for his brother to weld and forge with.

One day while returning to Camelot and looking for minerals or cool rocks he finds a sword in a stone, great! New materials for his brother! he can surely make something better than this old blade or upgrade it.

He takes the sword out effortlessly. The sword can talk. Great(?

He brings the weapon to the town, people start to notice the obvious magical artifact and voice goes around about “the legend being fulfilled”.

Oh, that legend. Yeah, no.

He just wants to show his little brother a cool sword, not become ruler of a whole kingdom thank you very much, it doesn’t matter if he “fulfilled the sacred prophecy”, it’s just a rumor until he decides it isn’t. And he doesn’t want it to not be a rumor.

Rumors travel fast, but he is faster.

The talking sword started doubting if he was worthy of the throne after spending no more than an hour around him, not shutting up about how “you’re already running from your kingdom and you haven’t been crowned yet”. Good. Maybe he could convince the sword to tell the people he would make a terrible king if the disdain in its voice gave anything off.

They arrived at the blacksmith’s shop, his brother’s shop, he shush’s the sword down as his brother runs to hug him, instantly pulling away at the sight of the weapon, his twin tails happily wagging gentle circles behind him as he asks Caliburn (what a name) anything and everything that there is to know as a talking sword. Caliburn just asks him why does Sonic call him “Tails” (nice try of a joke mate).

The very rude sword being perplexed about how someone as “reckless and careless” as him has “such a brilliant child in his care”.

Well, not a pretty mineral or shiny rock, but a talking sword seems interesting enough to make his brother happily ramble almost all night long, taking karma in his name as he wears Caliburn’s ear(?) off as he did with him.

Well, he could tell the kid all about his latest adventure in the morning, right now he could focus on cooking his brother a new dinner dish with spices from his latest travel destiny. A small bedtime story (about the knight’s of the round table by Carliburn’s request) and a few ear scratches later and you got a snuggled sleeping fox kit ready for the night.

The sword stays near them, looking at every move Sonic made, as if analyzing him in confusion. What a rude weapon, he might not be good king material but he’s peak big brother material.

He might not have enough on him to give his brother a bigger workshop or expensive materials, but he will give him everything he has if it means keeping him happy, they may not live in a big castle or have fancy dinners every night, but he swore from the moment he met the fox that he would do everything in his power to keep him safe.

As long as his big bro was around, he would never go hungry again, he would never sleep outside again and no one would hurt him again. He won’t ever feel unloved again.

Sonic might not be able to give him the world, but he’ll give him everything else.

His little brother’s sleeping form slightly trembles in his tiny bed, curling himself in his small blanket, covering his body with his fluffy tails, (sometimes Sonic thinks he’s more “Tails than “Miles”, pun intended). it’s been kinda cold lately, their humble home not making much favors to keep them warm even with the forge still on, but he doesn’t think he’s trembling because of the cold.

It’s okay, he didn’t wanted to sleep in his makeshift bed today anyway, he’s been away from his brother for enough time and he doesn’t mind staying right beside him to fight the little fox’s nightmares away and sharing their warmth for comfort. He nuzzles beside him, the kit instinctively moving to hug him and hide his face on the crook of the hedgehog’s neck, gentle purring and soft humming filling the silence of the night.

The next morning Caliburn greets him loudly “Good morrow, king Sonic”

Hell.

He doesn’t know what could’ve changed Caliburn’s opinion on him from one moment to another, but now thanks to that he has knights kneeling before him, the royal wizard offering him their nation’s secrets, a talking sword lecturing him all day long about “a king’s duty and heart”, and the whole kingdom practically demanding him to rule.

It’s not a very tempting idea to say the least. Organizing diplomacy gatherings, hosting balls and knighting warriors is not really his thing, and hell, the kingdom wants it to be his thing.

He offers the throne to whoever wins a crusade? “the winner must defeat his majesty first”. He tries to put back the sword in the stone? “The sword chose you, my liege, it is your destiny”. He tries to show the high commands how bad of a kind he would be? “His majesty is such a humble king, even in all his might”.

So, so eager to make him king. They tried to drag him to the castle so he could “know his new home”. They offered him to make changes to royalty’s way to make it “enough of his way”. They showed him the perks of having power, “a king does as he pleases”.

But what could he really offer them as a king? He can fight bad guys and make allies for sure, but even if he wanted to, would that be enough?

He kinda regrets not spending enough time around the kingdom before, maybe if he did and the people actually knew him they wouldn’t be so insistent on him of all people being king, talking magical sword be damned.

His brother knows what’s going on, he keeps mostly quiet about it, not wanting to disturb the hedgehog with the subject when he actively is trying to avoid it, his only opinion about it being shown a few nights after his return to their home. He’s tucking the fox in for the night, Caliburn silently watching them from the other side of the room, a sleepy squeaky voice fading with a yawn in a last effort to reassure his big brother while he runs his finger’s trough the fox’s bangs.

“You could give this kingdom anything… you already gave the world to me”

That’s all it takes.

Alright, he’ll be their king, but he will not sit on a fancy chair all day, won’t have a personal army following him around and definitely won’t be educated in “proper royalty manners”, you want him to be the king? The king does as he pleases.

The high council or whatever can take care of the bureaucracy, alliances and all the boring stuff, they’ll have the control over most of the kingdom (just how they like it, right?)

His first decree? Right after his coronation, the only time he actually stays in the throne room longer than five minutes, he actually wears his crown, he’s bearing the sacred sword when he calls his brother to the center of the room “I dub thee Miles “Tails” Prower, the crown prince of Camelot”.

He’s the king now, it’s only logical for his little brother to be the prince, the crown prince, direct heir to the kingdom’s throne.

He’s the prince, and the prince can get whatever the hell he desires, so bring him all the minerals and heavy armory, and show him the secret library! Little bro needs stimulation and there’s only so much he can do with a blacksmith’s mediums. His room? Bigger than the king’s! His food? Get him all the neighbor kingdom’s candy if he asks for it! His education? Give him all the books known in the world, get him all the minerals and bring his workshop inside the castle!

What he had was enough for his little brother before, but it might not be enough for him just yet. Time to give him the world that he already promised him.

Prince Miles does have a nice ring to it.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #they are cosmic truth #they’re brothers your honor #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #Prince Miles AU #theyre brothers your honor #sonic fanfiction #caliburn saw this punk ass mf and said nope #and then saw how he cared about that little baby fox and said yeah that’s the king #and lil tails being so happy because Sonic returned and now he can sleep beside him #and don’t worry the king’s schedule will always have time to read his brother a bedtime story #Sonic just wants to give his brother the world because that’s what he deserves no less #and now he will give him everything #not that Tails needed it #his brother was enough #but the castle and the toms of books are a nice plus #and don’t worry they won’t be cold at night anymore #the nightmares might still make miles tremble but his brother will scare them off

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starbanmk · 5 months

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Something Stupid - Frank Sinatra

(a little blurb to go along with the animation under more)

This world was colder than Ashswagg would've liked it. He supposed it made sense, though, he should've seen the low temperature coming. This world was primarily covered in oceans, and he and his teammate had holed themselves up in a secret cave base deep under the water. The air felt wet, the stone walls and floors cold to the touch. It was bearable when Ash was wearing his armour, layered and less susceptible to the cold air touching his skin. When he took off his armour when he was trying to sleep, though, the hair on Ash's bare arms would stand on end, his skin prickling in the cold. Ash curled into himself, careful not to take too much of the blanket he was sharing with his business partner, Reddoons. They'd pushed their beds together in hopes they'd be able to keep eachother warm, but Ash had found Red too hot to touch. He found himself avoiding physical contact like the plague, which was hard when they'd been sleeping inches apart for the past couple of nights. Ash could either be too hot or too cold. It was easier to be cold. In the mornings, Ash would wake up before Red, inching quietly out of bed to go manually mine some more trash. He needed to feel busy in this world. He was there to work, not to complain about the temperature or snuggle up with his business partner. Ash and Red didn't talk about their sleeping arrangements during the working day. It didn't fit the puzzle of who they were, here, now, in this lifetime. Their allegiance was strictly professional here, they were only working together to make money and raise charity for the very seas that kept Ash cold at night. It wasn't professional to sleep in the same bed. But it was necessary so they wouldn't freeze to death. The lack of warmth was killing Ash. Ash closed his eyes and hoped he'd stop thinking. He needed to ignore the cold, ignore how Red was right there, ignore what they were in other worlds so he could focus on what they're supposed to be in this one. Ash's eyes were shut, tight, in the way that took effort, in the way that wasn't relaxing, in the way that was more for ignoring what was in front of you than for sleeping. Red's warm breath on his face tickled Ash's eyelashes. Ash almost missed the whisper. It didn't sound real, it didn't sound tangible. Ash thought he might've imagined it, it didn't sound like it had come from right in front of him. It sounded far away, like a call from the end of a tunnel, a tunnel that led to another universe, different from Ash's own. Warmer than his own. I love you. Ash had to stop himself from choking. That's not how they were here. It ached, but that wasn't how things were. The three, simple words hung in the air, and Ash's body flushed as he suddenly felt very warm. Too warm. It wasn't a sensation he'd felt yet in this world, it didn't belong here. His eyes flew open, ready to do.. something. Yell at Red? Make fun of him? Say nothing? Say it back? What was professional? What was allowed? Ash found he always felt this way when worlds were new. He was still trying to understand the rules, and how he fit in. His eyes finally focused after he'd opened them, which took longer than he would've liked. He realised he'd been closer to sleep than he had thought. Red's eyes were closed. He was asleep, carefully inches away from Ash. Close, but never touching, the ghost of Red's breath was the only thing caressing Ash's face. He hadn't said anything. Ash relaxed back into the mattress, only then realising he'd tensed up. It was nothing. Maybe it was a memory.

#swagdoons #reddoons #ashswag #ashswag fanart #reddoons fanart #animation #team seas charity server #swagdoonsverse #something stupid #frank sinatra #multiverse #theyre so #i cant with them #flipaclip #rocco art #rocco writing

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clover0feild · 6 months

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A man or a monster?

Bertholdt Hoover X Male Reader

Warnings: very little- AND I MEAN VERYYYY LITTLEE- suggestive theme which will be explained later, I promise. Some cus words, nothing too bad tho:]

Part.1.

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Normally when people fall in love the only thing they truly worry about is losing that person, normally through death or unforeseen titan attacks- never that the person they love is the titan…. Unfortunately that’s what’s Reader was dealing with. He and Bertholdt had gotten close during their cadet years, and it only grew from there.

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During their cadet trading years they had originally started talking during one of the many sparing sessions they would all go through, after Annie had beaten the crab out of Reiner and Eren.

“They were stupid to try and fight her, especially thinking they would win” Reader had said to the guy next to him, which just so happened to be Bertholdt.

Bertholdt had been sorta shocked that this random cadet was talking to him, yet it wasn’t unwelcomed. “Reiner isn’t the smartest….” Bert had said back, yet using a much quieter voice than Reader.

/|||||\

This had been the first of many words between the two men, yet this conversation would be one of the shortest. It was around their second year of training that things between their platonic relationship had turned not so platonic.

It had been a freezing night and with no heat and a very thin blanket and a hard stone like mattress, it sucked even worse than normal. Reader had a bottom bunk, which he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad think right now. As he laid there freezing his ass off and curled closer to the wall than a painting, a felt a small dip in the bed right behind him. Reader swiftly turned his head behind him, and right there frozen in his track he saw Bert climbing into his bed.

“Bert… are you climbing into my bed?” Reader had whispered to him, a confused expression quickly covering his tired face.

“It’s cold” Bert said quickly while he still stood there frozen, and he could feel his face beginning to heat up. He didn’t know what compelled him to get up from his bunk and try to climb into bed with Reader- sure it was cold, but that didn’t give him the right to climb into bed with one of his closest friends. Sure his friend was very attractive, and maybe he thought about them in a more romantic sense than a platonic one, and maybe just maybe he would try and take a small little peak where they were in a the community showers….. But that still gave him no right!!

“True….” Reader had said while yawing, which caused small tears to prick the corners of his eyes. Quickly Reader lifted up the blanket enough for Bert to climb in, and he gave an inpatients look while waiting in Bert. “Hurry up- you’re letting all the warm air out….” Reader whined slightly.

“R-right” Bert said while quickly climbing under the covers with Reader. Due to the small bed size Bert and Reader were rather squished, but they were far warmer than before. Without any warning for poor old Bert, Reader had quickly began to snuggle closer to Bert and soon ended up lying right up on him.

“Your so fucking warm dude, can’t because you was- *YAWN* -keeping all this to yourself…” Reader said while resting his head against Bert’s chest. His eyes had been closed for a few moments now, and just about every inch of his body was now touching Bert someway or somehow. They stayed that way for the rest of the night, the only thing that changed was Bert relaxing and snuggling back, and Bert’s sleeping position every now and then.

PART.1. ENDED

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#x male reader #xmalereader #aot x reader #male reader insert #male reader #bertholdt hoover #aot x male reader #attack on titan #attack on titan X male reader #Bertholdt X male reader #Bertholdt Hoover X male reader #first time writing #first time writing and posting it

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prolix-yuy · 11 months

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For the Bangathon: Snuggling spoon with Javi G or Oberyn?

Ahhhhh we love ourselves a little snuggly sexxin'! Oberyn was calling to me for this one, but it may be a little more tense than we think...

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x OFC

Position: Snuggled Spoon

Word Count: 1419 (see how these get longer the more of them I write? I have no self-control)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), fingering (f receiving), allusions to public sex, cum tasting, hate sex, Oberyn is an affectionate bastard.

Notes: A follow-up to this drabble, because I wanted to see how it all panned out.

“How are your accommodations, little scorpion?”

The infuriating voice of her captor (and failed assassination attempt) drifts through her cell bars. Remaining on her side on the floor, only a few crumpled blankets to soften the uncomfortable stone, she ignores his question.

It wasn’t the first time the Prince had visited during her imprisonment. She’d screamed and railed against him the first time, tried to claw at him the second. Every spitfire reaction left him with a smarmy smile, standing just out of reach. He pulled little bits of information out of her each time - who sent her (a prominent family tired of the house leaders), what her plan was (to poison him and flee to Westeros), if she’d ever cum that hard with a lover she chose (silence). The game was more intriguing to him than she’d hoped, praying for his attention to drift so she could devise a way to escape. But every passing day he visits, and every day she grows wearier of her predicament.

Today, she’s done with this game. Her stomach is empty yet again, body aching, and hope waning. Her employers feign ignorance of her plan, abandoning her as she should have guessed. There was no one coming to reward her for her loyalty.

“Oh come now, has all your fire finally burned out?” Oberyn purrs, but she doesn’t rise to his challenge. She’d overheard the guards speaking of an execution date, fast approaching. What does this sparring matter when she’s about to be erased from history? A blip only in the mind of a small few, forgotten when larger matters loom.

Oberyn hums, then calls to a guard. Her interest piques for a moment, the rusty clank of keys and the creak of her door opening urging her to roll over and watch. The Prince, in his fine mustard robes and heavy jewelry, steps into the cell. The door closes behind him, even though the guard’s wary face hovers nearby. She sits fully, glaring up at her captor. He only chuckles, leaning back against the bars.

“So I have your attention finally,” he drawls, crossing his arms and raking his gaze over her body. They’d swapped her gauze and silk for a rough shift, the fabric barely keeping her warm in the night. The vulnerability makes her skin crawl.

“If it pleases the Prince of Dorne,” she spits, turning to lay back on her side. Her hands itch to press her thumbs into his eyes, but what good would it do? Speed up the sentence from days to minutes?

“Oh come now, little scorpion, I’ve already commended you on how much your subterfuge entertained me,” he tuts, steps light and cat-like approaching. “Easily the most fun I’ve had in months. And all our sparring over these last days. Don’t let your current state tamp out your fury. It’s the most beautiful thing about you.”

She stays firmly turned to the wall as he sits beside her, the heat of his body melting the ice along her spine. Denying the satisfaction of her relief, she bites down on her lip.

“I’ve never had such a…” he begins again, trying to win her attention for some mystifying reason, before he stops. His fingers brush against her bare arm. “You’re freezing.”

She snorts, very unladylike. “Maybe I’ll perish from the cold before my beheading.”

Suddenly she’s surrounded by warmth, eyes shooting open. The man she was conscripted to kill is now draping his robe around her, bare expanse of his chest snug to her back. His breath dances along her cheek, and try as she might a shudder loosens her limbs.

“Little scorpion, I would not have you suffer,” he says, and the somber tone drips wonder on her skin. Perhaps ill-advised, but she presses back against his blazing heat, wondering if all desert men are this scorching or if it’s only Oberyn. His palm comes up to her arm and warms her skin. A reedy sound of relief catches in her throat.

Before she can protest his hand travels over her stomach to cup her sex. Such boldness would normally result in the loss of a hand, but at the barest brush her core aches. Much as she hates to admit it (and never would to the Prince), she had dreamt of his touch more than once.

“I can warm you much better than this,” Oberyn purrs in her ear, his wicked fingers already creeping below her shift.

“What makes you think I would want your touch, my Prince?” She tries to hold her voice steady but his fingers are already swiping at her folds.

“This,” he gloats, bringing his soaked fingers to her face. Her arousal gleams thickly. “I think you would positively gush on me again.” Without pretense he drags his fingers into his mouth, sucking indulgently. She turns and watches him, pure sin and infuriating charm. His eyes open, and by the gods, they’re ravenous.

“Will you take what your Prince gives you, little scorpion?” he demands, and every fiber of her being is screaming to deny him, but her parted lips and slow nod betray her. He smiles wickedly, tugging his cock from his pants to slide between her clenched thighs. Passing over her weeping cunt, he props himself up to closely watch her face.

“I have dreamt of this cunt since you gave it to me, fucked my fist at the memory of you clenching around me,” he spits out, notching his blunt head at her at her entrance. “And now, I’ll do it again. But this time, you’ll scream my name.”

With a forceful thrust he buries himself inside her, the blinding sensation of fullness and sharp pleasure driving her to tuck into herself. He tuts and yanks her back against his chest, hand loosely around her throat as he sets a toe-curling pace. His teeth scrape her ear as he pants.

“Tight, wet, perfect little thing. Did you think your beauty and wiles would keep me from seeing your true nature?” he hisses, plunging his other hand between her legs to pinch her clit between his fingers. All she can do is wail and rock against his hold, hands scrabbling back to grip his pounding hips. “I’ve had many a pleasure, indulged all my vices, but making you cum on my cock as you tried to kill me…now that was a new experience.”

Her breath whistles out through clenched teeth, wishing her body didn’t mold to his so readily. Nails digging into his hips, he growls and nips at her skin. Her orgasm is fast approaching, cursing and praising his skill as he pointedly strokes her clit and pounds into the perfect place inside.

“Yes, my dangerous little scorpion, all glittering and deadly, cum for me a second time. I want your cunt to only desire how well I fuck it.” A quick strum of his fingers and her body traitorously snaps around him, only held in check by his grip and the roar of his snarl in her ear. When her body laxes he manhandles her to her back, lifting her hips off the ground as he slaps into her with reckless thrusts. A few more and he pulls out, fisting his cock and mashing his lips to hers as he cums in the palm of his hand.

His lips are full and soft, the scratch of his mustache and beard burning against her skin. He sweeps his tongue into her mouth, full and domineering, but when she presses back with teeth and a lap of her own his hips stutter between hers. They kiss messily, licking and biting and panting against each other’s mouths until he finally lifts up and looks down at her. The Prince of House Martell, flushed and satiated, eyes just as dark and promising.

“I stand by what I said during your arrest,” he says lightly, standing and shrugging off the floor-length robe. He drapes it over her body, sauntering to the cell door with only low-slung pants and the golden expanse of his back. She sits up, clutching the robe to her chest still warm. “You may beat us all to the Iron Throne one day, with that tenacity of yours.”

One hand pulls the door shut…but not quite. Not enough for the latch to catch, but enough for the guards to believe so. Her eyes snap from the door to Oberyn’s eyes, challenge and conquest pooling in them.

“Come try and kill me again if you can, little scorpion.”

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#oberyn martell x oc #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martel x reader #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x ofc #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction

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dathomirdumpsterfire · 6 months

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Chat writes the plot! Time for more 👑🐲🐟 KotD!

🔥🔥 don't forget to reblog tysm! 🔥🔥

~King of the Dragonfish: Chapter 13 (NSFW!)~

It is the shivering that wakes him. Such a small sound, cloth scratching against the stone floor, rasping against itself... and yet something about the tremor niggles at the predator in the back of his mind-

Maul chuckles as he wakes the rest of the way, stretching languidly. There is no back or part to the predator in him. He is all predator, a king of the dragonfish.

Luminous yellow-green eyes land on the source of the shivering, finding a chilled jedi having moved away from the heat of the deformed magma ball the sith had generously provided for warmth.

Fool.

He rises from the floor and sways that way, curving over Kenobi like a vulture, leaning down until he is inches from the man's face. The jedi's whiskers vibrate from his tiny shudders, a lock of his hair wavering as the root of it moves. Maul touches it, eyelids drooping at the softness.

Such a soft, fragile jedi. With little bits of glowing moss still caught in the strands of him.

Maul flutters his claws in the air out, then curls them in, and lifts. His force signature wraps around his prisoner, and raises the man a scant few inches. The sith pushes, and returns Kenobi to the warmth he needs.

As soon as the near-human feels the heat he rolls toward it and settles down. Maul smirks, pleased with his success, and curls up nearby to think.

His thoughts wander, from recalling the strange mood he had been in last night, to pondering how better to jail his captive. The sith is so entrenched in plotting and mulling that he misses it entirely when the useless jedi escapes the dwindling radiance zone of the magma yet again.

Maul doesn't notice until the shivering returns. He hears it start up, and huffs.

“Kenobi~,” he calls, propelling himself closer and calling to the man. The jedi's eyes move under their lids. He is dreaming, far and away, mind disconnected from body. Enough to leave comfort behind, but not so separate that he remains motionless in a safer place.

Ridiculous.

Once again Maul returns his jedi to the place he is meant to be, but this time he pools himself on and around the man. Kenobi sighs in his sleep, melting submissively under the weight of his tail. The sith preens, pleased by this.

He returns to plotting, sometimes idly touching the soft hair of the man's face. Maul finds himself compelled to reach down and pull the jedi's tunics aside, to touch the hair that he knows spreads down his chest… but it seems… Mnh… he will simply wait until Kenobi is awake, and contrive a way to steal his clothing then.

There is no point to clothes down here anyway. They only kept cold, wet things in a state of cold and wet, and that was not what the other man needed to remain hale.

The jedi master shifts in his sleep, like he's trying to move away again, but Maul keeps him pinned. He is allowed to roll in place, but that is all.

All of the sudden Kenobi turns into him, throwing a leg over his hip and snaking an arm around Maul's neck. The sith blinks down at the change. Pale fingers spread out across his chest, smoothing over the nightbrother marks on his right pec.

“Kenobi?” he asks, uncertain. Is he still asleep?

The jedi noses in close, and startles him with a bite on the chin. Maul grabs onto his shoulders, hissing, nipping at his face in return. The other man makes a huff, like the faintest laugh, and bites him again, but it is decently less startling this time, and significantly more... intriguing.

Soft flat teeth get ahold of his chin, bite and pull on the skin, just enough to sting.

Maul's eyes widen. His lips part.

His jaw is released, the trace of pain replaced by a warm tongue.

“Ah,” he says, a bit dazed as fingers start playing gently over the delicate skin of his gills.

This… this is… different. It feels…

Maul reaches for the jedi, tail shifting with pleasant agitation. Hips rock into his, and he moves with them, then presses back. The jedi begins kissing him, down his neck, down his chest. The rocking continues, and the sith notices for the very first time just how the fusion of his new and old forms had resolved the quandary of his cock. He had a length, like a man, that fell from a sheath in his hips, already slick and full.

Maul realizes he is neither like a zabrak nor a dragonfish. He is his own recreation, remade through the darkside into something more.

He laughs, dark and low and oh so pleased, reveling in the jedi grinding himself needfully on Maul's scales. Begging for him with his body.

They roll and Kenobi ends up on top, kissing his skin, mouthing at the tender spots on his chest. Kissing, and kissing, and the sith roils underneath him. Teeth nip and tug at his nipples, creating a sharp pain-pleasure that he hasn't known before.

He holds Kenobi to him, moaning, inviting. Yes yes yes, this was so good. Keeping him, having him…

If he was a king, then perhaps he needed a queen.

Could he remake Kenobi as he had been? Would his tail be pale as his skin, or would the natural tones of a dragonfish paint him black? Would his spots be red? Or ginger like his hair? Blue like his eyes?

Oh. He would be so beautiful.

Those same blue eyes open above him, soft and hazy. Lips run red from their use, pulse quick in his throat. Maul pants, staring up at his jedi with a rising need that ravaged his sanity in it's own wild, freeing way.

They stare at each other, both men struck by their own moment of epiphany.

“Kenobi…” he says, licking his bottom lip, trying to figure out how to ask for more.

More of all of that. He wants to fit them together and-

The jedi yelps, scrambling off and away from him until his back is to the wall.

No! Distance? That would not serve.

“I apologize!” the man swears.

For what, he wonders? This was right.

His eyes drift downward to the jutting proof of it.

The jedi's gaze follows his, widens, and then the man hides from him.

Kenobi clears his throat, face flushed as he presses back into the stone. “That was completely inappropriate, I do apologize. I'm not sure what happened, I was having… ah, pleasant dreams, and then… did you come near me in the night?”

Maul rises on the coils of his tail, and stalks towards his future queen. “I did. You had rolled away from your lava, so I put you back and pinned you down.”

Kenobi retreats as he approaches. Afraid. Yes, the jedi fears what is to come. He does not yet understand that it is good.

It will be so good.

The jedi's hands pat along the floor as he shuffles away.

“Thank you for your consideration then, so sorry for the trouble. Shall we go back to bed? Separately! I mean. You… over there. Me, over here,” the other man rambles, quailing even while he stares at the shine of slickness on Maul's cock. Those blue eyes are riveted to it, his body flushing with need.

He will take such care of his jedi.

Kenobi licks his lips, skittering further away. “Maul…”

The sith smiles, exultant.

“Maul,” the jedi says again, “I just want you to know…”

“Yessss?” he croons, coming ever forward, intractable.

“...that this is not an escape attempt, I am merely in dire need of a bath. Immediately.”

He has no idea what those words mean, until the jedi is dumping himself into the water, giving himself wholesale to the ocean.

The sith laughs wildly, and dives in after. The bubbles clear to reveal Kenobi floating there, treading water with his head and shoulders above the water line. Maul slides through the sea like a knife, under and around, coming up in front of the other man and winding their limbs together again.

“Jediiiii,” he purrs, then steals a proper kiss, mouth to mouth with a thrusting tongue.

Kenobi makes a high pitched whine. It only grows louder when the sith presses close, his tail flowing off between the other man's thighs. They rock, frotting their hips together.

“Mnnnhhh!” one or both of them cry out at the friction.

Maul pulls away to nip at the jedi's chin. “Remove these robes, jedi mine, let me have you. Forgive me my promise not to bite at your neck, and I will suckle marks into your skin, beautiful blooming bruises to complement your lovely eyes.”

“Oh ye gods,” the man whispers dizzily, gripping his shoulders.

“It will so good,” he entices.

Kenobi curls inward, hiding his face in Maul’s neck and stilling the motion of their hips by clenching his legs and core.

“Maul,” he says, like a gasp for air. “No, we… we can't. I can't.”

The dragonfish sith growls softly. No? Why.

“Maul I'm your prisoner, we can't,” the jedi tries to explain, but it doesn't make any sense.

“You want me,” he accuses, frustrated.

Kenobi shudders like the truth is too much to bear.

Maul noses into the side of his neck, and tries to bring him back from this foolishness with kisses. Soft and sweet, as tempting as he can make them.

The jedi's head tilts, just a hair, permission for this much, at least.

Careful of thin hide under his many excellent teeth, the dragonfish sith nibbles his way down the other man's body. He paints the flowers he'd promised into the pale skin beneath the jedi's ear. Gentle, then soothing the ruptures with his tongue.

He slides from neck to chest, biting over the cloth on his way down to stomach, nuzzling the jedi's core where's it's relaxed from his prior tension. Maul finds the jut of him, trapped beneath his pants, and mouths at it under the water. Kenobi's thighs quiver, calves flexing. His fingers dig into Maul's shoulders.

He can taste precum through the cloth as he sucks.

Suddenly the target of his fixation is gone, the body under his hands is further away. The jedi is gone back to the shore, climbing up into the air. Maul scowls and surfaces, only his eyes and horns above the water line as he watches Kenobi retreat.

Sopping wet, the man flops onto his back, chest heaving as he looks over. He remains erect, even still. “You... are a very hard man to say no to.”

The sith swims closer. “And yet,” he snaps through clenched teeth.

to be continued...

Want to be on the tag list? -> Comment with 'tag me!' Have an idea for next chapter or clicked the wrong option? -> Reblog about it! Check the bottom for the Ao3 link. 🔥

-Tag list-

@obimaulartfire @savageopressbignaturals @icequeen8043 @moonsickvampire @maulish @milkcioccolato

New? Start from Chapter 1! 👇🏽

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annas-hair-donut · 6 months

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Bundle Up, Scooch In

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Frozen (Disney Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anna/Kristoff Characters: Kristoff, Anna, Bulda, Elsa, Honeymaren Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Colonial America, 18th Century, Love at First Sight, (sort of), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Family Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In, Cuddling & Snuggling, Awkward Sexual Situations, Clothed Sex, interruptions, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, Kristoff Needs a Hug, Minor Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney) Summary:

Anna, a woman Kristoff just met that day, allows him to sleep in her bed so he doesn’t have to go home in the middle of a blizzard. Will he overcome the pain of his past and open himself up to the possibility of true love? Or will he walk away, lonely and cold in the dark? 18th Century, Colonial New Arendelle AU.

Written for the Frozen x Beauty and the Beast Yuletide Exchange

@kristanna-days

“When will we get to Living Rock Township?” Kristoff’s passenger Anna was only talking to him because he was there and she was bored, which was almost worse than ignoring him.

He wasn’t in the habit of conversing with strangers, especially pretty, high-born women who were cheerful even when there wasn’t a reason to be. He didn’t see the point.

“When we get there.”

He wasn’t trying to be funny, but Anna laughed anyway. Rather than ignore the daggers he shot at her, she laughed even more.

“I’m sorry!” she said as she caught her breath. “It’s just that, well, are you always this talkative?”

He answered her with a smirk. This was why he bought a wagon and not a carriage: he’d have rather delivered parcels and mail than people any day.

But Mrs. Stone, the pastor’s daughter and one of the only nice people in Living Rock Township, had specifically requested he be nice when he collected Anna at the harbor, so he attempted conversation, though it didn’t help much.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I beg your pardon?” Her wrinkled forehead didn’t dampen her bright eyes. “That attitude is completely unnecessary.”

Kristoff whistled and his horse Sven stopped. Then he turned on the bench to face her. “You had to have a good reason to leave your family and probably very comfortable life in Arendelle to risk crossing the ocean. Especially alone-”

Then he remembered there was supposed to be a man with her.

Anna scooted away from him on the bench and folded her arms. “That’s none of your concern.”

Kristoff rolled his eyes when she lifted her nose in the air like she wanted an apology.

Instead, he said, “Fine,” and told Sven to walk on. So much for his attempt at friendship.

Then it crossed his mind that perhaps she had lost her companion on the voyage so he swallowed his pride. “It’s just unusual, that’s all.”

She let out a deep breath instead of crying and Kristoff relaxed. “My fiance was supposed to come with me.”

“I guess things didn’t work out with Prince Charming, there?”

Anna shook her head and added, “Well, see, I met him at a ball.”

Kristoff rolled his eyes. He already knew where this story was headed.

“It was amazing and magical. He was dreamy and divine. And he asked me to marry him that night! Of course, I thought it was true love so I-”

“You agreed to marry a man you just met? That day?”

Anna stopped talking and glared at him.

“I mean, sure. Yeah, that sort of thing happens all the time,” he said sarcastically.

“Anywho, my sister lives at North Mountain and I haven’t seen her in years—she got accused of witchcraft and had to leave in a hurry, long story-”

She said it so casually that it almost didn’t register. “Wait, what!?”

“How far is North Mountain from Living Rock? Do you know how to get there?”

“You might not want to talk about that kind of stuff too loudly here. Personally, I think it’s a bunch of hogwash, but other people seem to take it pretty seriously.”

It almost seemed like she was mocking him when she said, “Anyway, we were going to join her at North Mountain. My parents actually passed away a few years ago-"

"You lost your parents?"

Anna paused and smiled at him. "They were trying to find Elsa, but their ship never made it. That was about three years ago or so."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

She smiled again. "Well, obviously I wanted my sister's blessing since I couldn't get my parents. So I made all the arrangements and wrote to her. But I don’t know if she even got the letter-”

“So she doesn’t even know you’re coming?”

“Well, no…” Anna twisted her mittened hands in front of her and she looked off to the side. “Maybe. But I also wrote to Mrs. Stone gave. She gave me an open invitation when she and her husband left Arendelle. So I thought at least we’d be on the right continent.”

Then her voice dropped. “At least, I’m on the right continent.”

Kristoff pursed his lips. He hated to ask, but he was invested in the story. “So where’s your handsome prince now?”

She folded her arms again and spoke softly. “I guess he didn’t love me enough.”

Unfortunately, that tugged on Kristoff’s heartstrings and he couldn’t tell her what he really thought.

“I don’t believe it was love at first sight, in case that’s what you were thinking.”

Kristoff didn’t mean to snort.

She narrowed her eyes. “It was blind attraction, which can be even more problematic.”

“Not exactly the best way to start a life together.”

Not expecting silence, Kristoff turned his head. She was biting her lip, but he knew it wasn’t supposed to be suggestive. Or endearing.

Then she peered up at him, eyes blue-green like the sea, but constant, unwavering. “I still believe in love at first sight, but I’ve learned my lesson.”

He desperately wanted to look away from her but he couldn’t.

“Next time I’ll take a closer look.”

Kristoff’s heartbeat quickened until she wrinkled her nose and giggled, finally looking away.

“I’ll know him when I see him! And when I find him I’m going to hold on tight and never let go. True love is worth it.”

Kristoff turned his head again. The huge smile plastered on her face locked him in the moment, even though stared far into the distance.

But then he shook his head and remembered the last time a woman looked at him as closely as Anna had. That had been some time ago, and she hadn’t offered him a passing glance since then. There was no reason to believe Anna was any different.

Continue reading at AO3.

#frozen #kristanna #frozen fanfic #kristanna fanfic #new arendelle colonial au #18th century au #bundle up scooch in #kristanna days #frozen yuletide exchange

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winterwitch-trash · 6 months

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“A moment of peace…”

Author's Note: My apologies for the delay in this second chapter. Things are a bit hectic as we draw closer to the Christmas Holiday. This story will be more frequently updated over the Christmas break! And honestly? I'm getting more excited for what's to come. I don't want to spoil much, but it will feature smut, fluff, and angst (lots of it, be prepared!!!). Finally, some chapters may contain dark and graphic elements, so I will make sure to add warnings!

Summary: After a night of passion, the couple spends a few quiet moments, trying to relish in their love. But business doesn't take care of itself...

Word Count: 600 words (Short! I know!) Warnings for this Chapter: None, just a whole lot of fluff!

The next morning found the two entangled together, Bucky’s arm draped over her lithe body as if it was shielding her from the world. Both were blissfully asleep, and it was like nothing could disturb their little bubble. However, the alarm had different plans. Its angry blare was more than enough to awaken the mobster who smashed it onto the wall with a frustrated groan. He was nice and cozy in bed with the one he adored and he wanted no interruptions. Oh well. So much for a peaceful sleep. At least he would get to admire the sleeping beauty that was snuggling up at him. After a while though, he decided it was time for a shower, so he pecked her cheek softly before slipping out of bed.

His wife let out a yawn, stretching out her limbs, trying to feel for her husband but she was only met with an empty bed. At the beginning, she thought he was already tending to business, but then she heard the water running from their bathroom. Without making noise she tiptoed inside, arms snaking around his waist, kissing his back, causing a smile to creep on the mobster’s face before he turned to face her.

“Mmm… Good morning sweetheart. “ Came his hushed voice before he captured her lips once again grabbing the sponge so he could spoil her a little. “I missed you in bed earlier..” She mused humming in contentment as she wrapped her nimble hands around his neck, pulling him closer. “Can’t blame me for giving you some time to sleep in... You looked so peaceful…” He replied resting his forehead against hers. This man never ceased to amaze her. He could go from stone-cold, deadly, and fearsome Mobster to the most loving husband in a matter of mere seconds. Of course, he was a man of honor as he promised her that all the orphaned children of this city would be safe from any harm that came with being the leader of the Mafia. From the moment they met each other, he told her of his line of work but that wasn’t enough to keep her away from him. She loved him either way. Bucky noticed how she was zoning out. Apparently, she was lost in her thoughts and it made him curious as to what she was thinking about. “… Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?” He asked poking her side playfully, eliciting a melodic giggle from her. “ I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you by my side. That’s all.” She trailed off kissing him briefly when she felt a towel being wrapped around her body.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t stay like this for the rest of the day. He would have to oversee various operations and meetings. As for her, she would spend the day working from home. Pretty mundane things. But she would also have to head out into the city in order to meet with representatives of various charity organizations that she was cooperating with. Bucky insisted that she took a bodyguard along with her, but she kept refusing; every time she would have to persuade him that she would be just fine. And every time, he trusted her. Why wouldn’t he? She was strong, and she was definitely not one of those damsels in distress that always needed saving. That was another reason that he adored her.

But in a few hours, everything would change… Neither of them knew it though. They just went through their routines blissfully unaware of the hell that was about to break loose…

@world-of-aus And here... we... go! I hope you like it <3

#fanfiction #my writing #never mess with a mafia lord

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mlmxreader · 1 year

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A Pilot's Work is Never Done | John Price x m!reader

@guardkeywolf asked: Male Reader X Price where Price tries to get Male Reader to take a break from his work (dudes a workaholic) and uses his "puppy dog eyes" and the male reader just cant say no to him because he's so deeply in love with Price...

"And don't you dare try and give me the puppy dog eyes"

summary: Price hates seeing you overworked, he hates seeing you exhausted and tired and not being able to speak to you for more than five minutes.

tws: smoking, swearing

When Cohen first assigned you to filling out the squadron's reports, you tolerated it, as you knew that Cohen liked all RAF records to be neat and tidy and to be as professionally filled out as possible; Bashar and Perveen had already done their share, so all you had to do was yours, as well as filling out some other field reports and the reports on the state of the planes. It wasn't as much fun as flying, but it had to be done, and you tolerated it as much as you could; besides, it gave you an excuse to stay home. A pilot's work was never done, anyway... but you couldn't deny that you preferred working at home. At home, you could stay nice and warm, not having to worry about some young recruit running in and asking for advice on dog fighting or providing air support to the soldiers in the ground. At home, you could sit back and relax while you worked.

It was better that Price was home, too, with the task force on leave, you had him entirely to yourself, well, mostly anyway. There had been a few phone calls from Soap asking for help with cooking and cleaning, and a few from Gaz just checking in. Gaz even popped over a few times, just to stop for a quick cup of tea and a smoke; Ghost came over here and there for the same reasons, although never announced when and never contacted you or Price by phone either.

Working at home, though, you didn't have to miss it, and nor did you have to miss how it felt being around Price so much; cups of coffee made exactly how you liked them, cigarettes rolled for you every time he smoked a cigar, a nice soft bed to snuggle up in as he watched the football - always promising that you could watch EastEnders right after and never breaking that promise. Listening to him snore softly at night and being woken up by his gruff and hoarse voice in the morning as he kissed your neck oh so gently. Hearing him tell people on the phone that he was actually spending time with his husband, even though you had not yet had a nikkah ceremony; seeing that, in his contacts on his phone, he even had you listed as such.

Not his boyfriend, not his partner, not his significant other, his husband. It always made you smile when he did that, and you were pretty sure that he knew.

You weren't sure how long you had been working today, though, cans of Red Bull littered the kitchen table and the ashtray had been emptied multiple times, an empty plate sat behind the ashtray stone cold even though you could have sworn you had eaten not that long ago; an ache settled in your neck, and your wrists were hurting from how much you had written down. But you weren't about to stop. You had far too much paperwork to get through to even think about stopping; but Price had noticed, and he wasn't exactly happy about it. He never wanted you to be overworked, and even fought with Cohen a few times about forcing you to take holidays even though you said you didn't want to; you worked too much as it was, and Price wasn't about to let you work yourself into the ground when you were at home.

"C'mon," Price said, tugging at your chair and leaning against the table, blocking your view of the papers. "Take a break now, baby."

You shook your head, making an effort to get up when he gently pushed you down and shook his head, forcing you to glare at him for a moment. "John, I have work."

"You're home," he growled, folding his arms across his chest. "You ain't working, not if I can help it... besides, it's nearly tea time and you've had bugger all since dinner."

"Has it actually been that long?" You furrowed your brows, looking at the clock beside the fridge for a moment, chewing at the inside of your lip. "Oh, fuck me..."

Price licked his lips, sighing as he looked at you with worry; sure, he knew it wasn't easy to be part of the RAF, he knew that you and your squadron had a tough time and that paperwork was especially a bore and that record keeping had to be done a lot more formally and professionally than his task force did, but he hated seeing you so wrapped up in it. Edging towards being overworked with every passing second. He grabbed your empty plate, and took it to the dishwasher. "You're gonna work yourself to death, (y/n)... gonna get carpal tunnel in both hands at this rate, in all."

You rubbed the back of your neck, your knees clicking when you dared to get up, only to roll yourself a cigarette and sit back down at the table again. "insha'Allah, I can get it all done today."

Price shook his head again, wondering what the fuck he could do to make you actually stop working for just a moment; he considered asking Laswell to get Cohen and to give him an earful about giving a Flight Lieutenant the job of a Air Chief Marshal, but then he remembered that you had agreed to take on such a job, and he grumbled. That wasn't going to work.

Besides, Cohen was off for the next two and a half weeks so that he had enough time so that he could celebrate Chanukah with his family back in Llanfairpwllgwyngyll as well as to actually see them and be with them before the eight days; Cohen always took extra days off for religious events and days, even the less significant ones like Chanukah, and Price couldn't blame him. It was difficult to spend time with family when one's job was to be halfway across the world most of the time.

Perveen was about, as Guru Nanak Jayanti had been a while ago now and he didn't have any other holy days or events coming up; but he had gone to Punjab with his father for a few days to spend some time with family over there. So he was ruled out, too.

Bashar was back in Saudi Arabia, as well, as he was visiting some of his uncle's side of the family in Qaisumah; even Pahwa had taken time off and had gone home to West Bengal for a while.

Price was at his wit's end, and wasn't entirely sure what to do as he watched you for a moment; the stress and exhaustion on your face so clear, and Price really did wonder, if only for a moment, if he had actually talked to you for more than five minutes that day. He realised that he hadn't, and when he looked at the clock again, slowly starting to approach seventeen hundred hours, he had decided that he had had enough, and settled on using the one weapon against you that he only ever pulled out in emergencies. He made his way back over to the kitchen table, put his hand on your shoulder and cleared his throat.

"(y/n), look at me."

"I'm working," you grumbled. "And don't you dare try and give me the puppy dog eyes, I know your game, old man."

Price smiled, leaning over slightly and gently grasping your chin between his index finger and thumb, forcing you to look at him as he raised his brows a little, and did the unthinkable: flashed the puppy dog eyes. You didn't want to, but you caved almost immediately, daring to steal a quick kiss as you put your pen down and instead laid one hand on his chest, the other on the back of his neck as you let him kiss you so deeply; but then he pulled away, licking his lips as he damn near grinned. "Stop working."

You nodded, putting your hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, you got me. I'll stop - for now."

"Stop for a while," he grumbled. "No more work until Monday."

You couldn't help but to obey such an order, letting him gently coax you away from the table and over to the kitchen side; he waited for you to sit up on it before he stood between your legs, his hands on the sides of your thighs as he hummed in approval at how you rested your arms on his shoulders and chewed at the inside of your lip. "Actually, I am kinda hungry..."

"We're having tea in a bit," he reminded you. "Cheese toastie?"

"Blue cheese," you corrected. "I don't want any of that cheddar shit."

Price smiled as he nodded. "Of course, Flight Lieutenant, how could I forget? I'm sorry. Do you fancy a blue cheese toastie?"

"Yeah," you smiled back, nodding slowly. "If you would, greybeard."

"Don't call me that," he said lowly, his grip in your thighs tightening slightly.

You tilted your head to the side, narrowing your eyes at him as you did your best not to laugh. "Or what, Captain? You gonna force me to shut my mouth?"

"I just might," he warned playfully. "Behave yourself, Flight Lieutenant, you don't wanna see what happens when you disobey."

"I might," you hummed. "Y'know what they say about curiosity."

Price couldn't hold it back, laughing softly as he dared to steal a kiss, fucking grinning when you smiled into it and tried to pull him a little closer by the back of his grey shirt; the one that was tight around his arms and chest and that you always stole if you wanted to wind him up. He deepened the kiss, though, making you gasp softly before you laughed and eagerly returned it; Price was a damn good distraction, you had to admit, as the second he had flashed you those puppy dog eyes of his, you couldn't even bring yourself to think about work anymore.

When he pulled away, all you could do was breathe out four little words that always made him feel giddy, "I fucking love you."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

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kentoberry · 2 years

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QUIET NIGHTS — kento nanami.

pairings ⭒ kento nanami x gender neutral reader.

summary⭒waking up to cold sheets is never nice, but when you do locate your husband, you couldn't be happier.

content ⭒ daddy nanami ⭒ no mentions of birth/pregnancy ⭒ pet names ⭒ established relationship.

as soon as the bright beams of sunlight danced their way through the tiniest gap in the curtains and fall directly onto you eyelids, your first instinct was to reach over and snuggle closer to your husband. the limb colliding with an empty bed wasn't exactly what you were expecting. ususally you would think that nanami was just awake before you, and was off making some coffee or getting a start on breakfast before your little bundle of joy woke up. however, the sheets were stone cold, as though nobody had slept in them for hours.

cuious as to the whereabouts of your husband, you prised yourself out of bed. the first thing that you did was roll over and check the baby monitor on your bedside table. you had to squint a little, because you couldn't actually see your baby in their cot. ah, so that's where kento was. instantly you felt a little bit guilty, because he'd been working a late last night (not by choice) and was likely up early with his daughter. you pushed yourself to detangle from the sheets and tidy yourself up a little before heading to locate the pair.

you didn't make it all of the way to the living area before light snores creeping out of the ajar nursery door caught your attention. trying to be as silent as possible, so as not to wake anybody up, you sought after the source of the noises. in the little nursery was indeed your husband and daughter, both sound asleep. kento sat in the rocking chair that was a gift from his mother, a blanket draped over both him and your daughter, who was curled up on his chest.

throughout all of your memories, you couldn't recount ever encountering something so serene. simply perceiving the room allowed you to feel extremely at peace, as though everything in your life had been leading to a moment like this. you wanted to etch every miniscule detail into your mind in order to never forget it.

kento looked so relaxed, his mouth slightly agape and his glasses falling from his face. his golden hair was a little bit ruffled from all of the sleep (and likely the grabby hands from your baby) and he was dressed in only a pair of dark sweatpants. one of the library's worth of parenting books that he read before the arrival of your daughter mentioned the importance of skinship, a piece of information that had always stuck with him, therefore he didn't worry about putting on a shirt to soothe your daughter back to sleep.

you debated going and getting a start on some breakfast for the two of you and a bottle for the baby, or basking in the moment for a few minutes more. however, your decision was made for you as kento started to stir from his slumber.

"what time is it?" he spoke in a hoarse whisper, a morning voice that made your knees weak. you glanced at the clock in the nursery, doing your best to make out the positioning of the hands in such low lighting.

"almost eight," you replied. kento then looked down at the little bundle of joy wrapped up on his chest, a tender smile instantly breaking out — god, the sight made your heart lurch with overflowing adoration.

"apologies, love. i didn't mean to doze off in here," kento began, but you were quick to brush it off, instead fawning over the view of your little family for a moment. you made your way over to the rocking chair, giving your husband a quick kiss and holding your baby's tiny, outstreched hand. the two of you exchanged 'i love you's', both gazing in awe at your daughter for a while longer.

#kentoberryposts #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #nanami headcanons #nanami kento fluff

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hinatastinygiant · 5 months

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25 | Carding Mill

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Serpents and Roses

Late that night, you climb into your bed and look up at the dark ceiling of your room. It's so quiet now, and you find yourself missing the sound of the other girls talking. You're so glad to have the castle to yourself, even if it's only for a short time. But also, it is quite lonely. Especially since you're the only girl in your dorm room.

You let out a sigh and close your eyes. But after some time of trying, you roll over and turn your light back on. There's no use in trying to sleep if you know you're not going to be able to.

"Shit, this sucks," you grumble as you wipe your eyes with your hands. You can feel your body begging for rest, and it's driving you crazy.

"Why am I still awake?"

You decide to then sit up and get out of bed. Maybe a walk around will do you some good. There's technically no curfew anymore, so it's not like anyone would mind.

Once you make your way out of your dorm room, you're immediately met with a cold breeze that causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. You follow the dimly lit candles along the wall, going nowhere in particular, until you find yourself right outside the Slytherin dorms. It surprises you for a moment, because you didn't even realize where you had been heading, but you shake your head and turn to keep walking. However, before you can get far, something tells you to turn back. Perhaps if you stay with Ominis you'd be able to fall asleep.

As you approach the correct wall, you think back to the time Ominis had let you sleep over and try to recall how he got into the dorms. However, you had been so beat that night that you don't remember a thing like a door password. However, there was a time you had overheard Ominis saying something in parseltongue after being begged by Sebastian, so you decide to give that a try instead.

"Ayaeeh aaah ssss seyythaa," you try to say as clearly as possible.

"Welcome," a snake-like voice replies, and the stone wall disappears, revealing a door instead.

You smile to yourself and step through, finding yourself in the main room. Ominis really is the descendant of Salazar Slytherin after all.

You make your way over to Ominis' dorm and quietly open the door just a crack, peeking inside. "Ominis?" you call out, and are met with a snore in response.

"Ominis!" you say, louder.

"Hmm?" he hums, sitting up a bit in bed. "Who's there?"

"It's Y/N," you tell him as you allow yourself inside.

"Y/N?" he repeats. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"Doesn't matter," you answer, shutting the door behind you. "Sorry for waking you."

"It's alright. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you tell him as you climb into bed next to him. "I just couldn't sleep."

"Oh. Well, did you want to talk about it or..."

"Not really. I just wanted to be with you. There's not much to say I just couldn't sleep. It's too quiet. The girls usually have their lights on and talk to each other."

"I see," he hums, and places his hand on your cheek.

You lean into his touch and shut your eyes, enjoying the warmth.

"You don't mind me staying here, do you?"

"Of course not," he whispers, his thumb caressing your cheek. "If anything, I'd be worried if you were wandering around the castle alone."

"Well, I kinda was before ending up here," you smile softly.

"Then I'm glad you found your way," he replies, pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours.

You kiss him back, smiling into the kiss, and place your hand on his chest.

"What time is it?" he then questions you.

"Uh, I think around midnight," you reply.

"So it's not that late. Do you want to go back to sleep?"

"I could use the rest," you nod.

"Good," he smiles. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and places a kiss on the top of your head.

You gently shut your eyes and snuggle closer to him, taking a deep breath and enjoying the feeling of him next to you. "Thank you," you whisper.

"You're welcome, Y/N," he murmurs.

With a smile, you press another kiss against his lips.

"Goodnight," you say, and rest your head on his chest.

"Goodnight, my darling."

***

The next morning, you wake up to find yourself tangled in Ominis's arms. You can hear him snoring quietly and feel his chest rise and fall. You glance up and see his face is peaceful, and the sight has a smile creeping across your lips. You really don't think you'd have been able to sleep if he wasn't around and you're so glad he let you stay.

A moment later, Ominis begins to stir and wakes up. "Good morning," he murmurs.

"Morning," you smile.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks.

"Better than I would've without you," you answer, shutting your eyes again to relax into his embrace.

"Good," he says and kisses the top of your head. "I'm glad I was able to help."

"Me too," you smile.

After a few minutes, the two of you get out of bed and make your way out into the great hall. Together, you sit at the Ravenclaw table and enjoy a feast meant for just the few who stayed behind.

"I could definitely get used to this," Ominis chuckles, reaching for a piece of bacon.

"Me too," you grin. "The castle's so quiet."

"Yeah," he nods. "Though I'm sure it'll be more fun once everyone comes back."

"But I quite enjoy having the whole room to ourselves," you smirk, glancing over at him.

He smiles, though he does try to hide it. "Yes, me too."

Serpents and Roses

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lovehugsandcandy · 5 months

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withdraw

Pairing: Aerin x f!MC, Blades of Light and Shadow

Ratings: M (blood, injury)

Word Count: ~1,250

A/N: MC saying that they would retire was so funny to me (sorry bby, I know you deserve it, but we got book 3 coming). Title from dictionary.com, which has a line about the origin of the word 'retire' being to ‘withdraw to a place of safety or seclusion’ and man, dictionary, why you gotta go so hard. Also, thank you to @choicesficwriterscreations for putting my work on your archive!

Summary: Eventually, all heroes retire (and, fortunately, our hero retires with her world at her fingertips).

“I’m going to retire.” Aerin's chest pillows her head as they bask in the afternoon sun. For once, the realm is quiet and secure, and she realizes she could quickly get used to lazy days in the heart of Deadwood.

He huffs above Raine, his jaw tickling the hairs atop her head. “Really,” he drawls.

“I am. The next time the world needs saving? They just need another hero.” Her hand tightens in green fabric; where their legs tangle, she gives his calf a gentle kick.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do!”

He chuckles softly, arm tightening around her waist. The grass is soft below them, the sweet scent of green and lavender about, and the clouds seem frozen in time, stuck in an elysian sky. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I mean it; I am going to retire.” She turns to nudge her nose against his collarbone, kissing the sliver of scar tissue that emerges from his tunic. “I am, I am, I am.”

~~~~~

“I want to retire.”

Aerin raises an eyebrow, barely visible in the flickering torchlight. “Uh, huh.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” She snuggles closer, but his warmth can’t keep the chill at bay; even the bedroll underneath them doesn’t stop the cold stone from leeching its frigid tendrils into her bones. “No more sleeping in grimy caves, risking our lives all the time. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

He rolls his eyes. “And, pray tell, what would you do with your time?”

“I can think of many things I could do with my time.”

He needs to muffle his laugh so their friends don’t hear, scattered and dozing around their temporary domicile. A night of safety after unceasing nights of terror. “You wouldn’t get bored?”

“You wouldn’t entertain me?” Her lips turn down into an exaggerated pout as she bats her eyebrows.

He leans down to lightly nibble on her lower lip which, of course, turns into their lips melding warmly, hidden by darkness and their bedroll. His cheeks flush as he pulls back to whisper, “I would entertain you until the end of time.”

“It’s settled then.” She rests her head against his chest. “I really am going to retire.”

~~~~~

“I am really - ow - I am really going to retire.”

“Would you. Just. Hold. Still.” Aerin grits his teeth as he pulls the bandage tight against her forearm.

“I’m trying-” Raine cuts off with a whine. “I am trying, but it’s a little difficult right now.”

“I know.” His voice turns into liquid patience, sympathy and fear darkening the hazel in his eyes. “Just hold on.” Behind him, dark shadows flare malevolently as the battle continues. As much as she tries to look away, she can’t help but watch the black in her vein slowly make its way up her skin. Aerin finally pulls his hand from his rucksack, a vial of gleaming gold cradled between two fingertips. Quickly, he bites at the cork stopper and sprinkles a few grams into the festering wound on her palm. The burning subsides immediately and her shoulders sag as her skin fades into a normal hue.

“Really, Aerin, I’m going to retire.”

“Sure you are.” His smirk belies the concern in his eyes. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.” Her unblemished hand finds the hilt of her sword.

“What happened to that retirement?”

She clenches her teeth as she unsheathes her weapon, metal reflecting the surrounding flashes of magic in an ominous gleam. “It will have to wait.”

~~~~~

“Aerin. I promise, this time…” Raine clutches his tunic tighter while he shakes underneath her. Sweat pours from his clammy skin, but she doesn’t care, grasping him with all she has. “This time, I will retire.”

“You won’t.” Aerin’s teeth chatter as he grits out the words.

“I will.” Tears mar her vision. “Aerin, I promise this time-”

“You don’t need to-” A sharp inhale cuts out his words as his teeth clench.

“Raine, move out of the way!” Nia’s careful hands come to her shoulders, but she can’t move - she won’t - not when Aerin lies injured - nay, dying - beneath her. “Raine, move!” There’s a golden light behind her and the lines of tension ease in his forehead, but it doesn’t stop the blood from pooling on the ground below. The wound is severe, she can tell by the pallor of skin, and her breath comes in frantic, choking sobs.

“Aerin. Listen to me.” There’s the clanking of battle behind her, metal crashing and incantations hurled, so she leans over to hiss in his ear. “Listen! You’re gonna be fine. Nia’s gonna fix it-” somewhere above, there’s more golden light flashing through the tears blurring her vision- “and we’re gonna go back and live with the goblins-” at this, a pained smile flits over bloodied lips- “and it’s going to be fine.”

“It is fine, Raine.” His uninjured arm twitches, as if he is reaching for her, but the effort is just too much. “It is fine. Ever since you allowed me a chance at redemption, ever since you allowed me to be by your side, it has been fine. Thank you for-“

“Don’t you dare.” She leans forward and their foreheads touch, so she can glare into his eyes. “Don’t you dare say something that sounds like goodbye.”

“I’m not. I said I wouldn’t leave your side…” His eyes flutter shut and Raine cradles his chin, fingers digging into his cheekbones until his eyes meet hers again. “Unless… unless you ordered me to.”

“I order you to stay.” She spits the last word, holding his face and his gaze until the sound of battle ceases, until the flares of golden light slow, until the hastily prepared compresses have eased the worst of the bleeding.

Finally, when some color has been restored across his features and the terrifying trembling of his limbs still, she exhales.

“I really…” She sinks against his chest as the adrenaline seeps from her body, leaving only gratitude and relief in its place. “I really am going to retire.”

He weakly kisses her forehead, the barest wisp of lips against her skin. “Uh, huh.”

~~~~~

“I’m going to retire.” Aerin stills beneath her, his hand pausing its gentle circles at the base of her spine. “I am. I’m… I’m done.”

He shifts, carefully, unsteadily, turning so he can see her face where it rests on his chest. His left hand is still healing, fingers curled into an unnatural shape, and they tremble as they sweep against her cheek. “Raine? What are you…?”

“I’m going to retire. I can’t…” She breaks off before forcing the words out from her tight chest and clasped lips. “It’s just… watching everyone dive into danger. Watching you-“

“Don’t stop on my account. I know the risks and I accept them every time.”

“Well, I don’t. Not-” Her breath shudders as she remembers his blood flowing between her fingers, the terror winding up her spine. “- Not anymore.”

He must hear the gravity in her tone, the certainty in her words. “Won’t you miss it? The traveling, the helping others? The saving the world?”

A flock of birds soars overhead, their joyful caw filling the sunlit sky, and the giggle of goblins can be heard in the distance. Underneath them, the grass is soft, a suitable bed for lounging at the lakeside, and the trees twinkle as the breeze flits through them. “I would miss this more.”

Aerin doesn’t speak for a while, letting the lapping of the shore fill the silence as he cradles her close. “You really… you really mean it this time.”

Raine smiles and, for a moment, there is only his heartbeat in her ear, his hand at her back.

Her world is here.

“Yes, I really mean it.”

#aerin valleros #aerin x mc #amy writes

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infraaa · 2 years

Text

『I write for espresso too yk, why y’all leaving him in the dust? that’s not very nice! 🥴』

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓!

yandere!espresso x fem!reader

tw// yandere themes, kidnapping, training, extreme monopoly (control of time and the reader’s schedule,) stalking, gaslighting, light aspects of a student/teacher relationship, light nsfw in some parts, implied cnc, orgasm denial

baker’s notes // I recommend that you listen to the playlist I made to go along with this to elevate the experience. This is also mostly written from third perspective and provides little to no physical description to make this as personalized to the reader as possible.

SOME MAY FIND THE CONTENT BELOW TO BE DISTURBING. READER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED UNDER THE CUT.

Parfaedia was normally a quiet place when night hit. Everyone hit the hay, golden lights illuminating the town’s streets. It was as though peace had covered every house in a warm blanket.

safety ・　・　・

s a f e t y ・　・　・

A word in everyone’s heads as they snuggled into their blankets. Not for everyone however, unfortunately.

A dainty looking cookie, crust once bright and crisp, now talking, walking, acting with unneeded and rather forced grace. They adjusted their hair to be as perfect as possible, as they dared not break his expectations. Clothes always neat, tidy, never wrinkled and always smelling like the finest coffee known to cookie kind. However the only thing that wasn’t class about them was their eyes. Lifeless— lifeless eyes with no light, no shine or glimmer of hope. Just the orbs of a cookie lost in limbo.

A girl that lost her life, her dignity, and her independence. Truly tragic.

How did we get here? To this point?

How did you get here?

How did he find you? Why did he find you?

let’s go back.

You, another student under the guise of dark magic, wanting to learn how to perfect coffee magic, and your use of it. However not at the level of passion of another certain professor, who, albeit was rather dry and only taught on commission, saw you in a different light than all of his other students. He saw uniqueness in you, a kind of zest he had yet to see. You were the only reason as to why he held onto teaching, not because he wanted to share wisdom but because he wanted to see you. Hear you. Touch you.

You began to warm up to him over time and eventually you… took a liking to him. And everyone knew it.

He would always say to you, however, that you were his favorite student, then when he was teaching, he would say that he doesn’t do favorites. He would say he loved you in a platonic way, admiring your sense of dutifulness and knowledge, then when you would give him that look he’d scoff at you, saying he doesn’t remember saying that. That’s a lie; you knew that. But, you still digressed and nodded your head with that embarrassed look on your face, red face package with bleated eyes.

He’s trying to make you desperate. He’s trying to twist you in circles like a dog toy. He wants you to question yourself, your sanity, your perceptions of reality. It makes him smile…..

…makes him believe you’ll come crawling.

It was his way of telling you he wants you— by making you think, wonder, maybe even fear your feelings for your professor. Sooner or later, he went full on stone cold, not even acknowledging you. You pushed and pushed and PUSHED for him to at least give you a word or even a sound of gratitude and yet/m… nothing. That was, until the end of the semester. You, as well as your class, had finals coming up and like any other star student, you were determined to get the highest grade. So much so that you studied your ass off. Pulling all nighters wouldn’t help you in accomplishing your goals, may just leave you sleep deprived, but that’s what energy drinks and coffee are for. And when the time came, some passed the exam, some failed under Espresso’s watchful eye.

“Erm… doctor?“ You called out to him in a hushed voice. It nearly sent shivers down his spine knowing you sounded like that. Vivid memories went by of him getting your address through the institute’s files and finding your home. He has a small pocket watch of yours in his desk drawer. He has heard you sleep before, hearing your soft voice fall in and out from dream to dream, bringing a dreamy smile to his normally calm yet stoic face, and hearts to his reddened eyes.

“Doctor?” He broke out of his reality of twisted splendor back into the real one he was already in and turned to face you, clearing his throat of his fantasies. “Tell me,” he started turning his body around fully, “why don’t you join me for lunch? I can go over your test results with you if you’d like.”

Why did you agree?

At this point you meant everything to him, this was all just a ploy. And even you, gaslit to the point of no return and you still cling to whatever can make you smile again— just trying to piece together what really has happened. You want this to be real. You want him to be your prince. And he does too, not only just as bad as you want him if not more. Which is why he brought a special concoction with him today. Don’t worry, just some nice sleepy liquid to put you out. He hopes you don’t mind, of course. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to his newfound angel. You felt sleepy by the end of lunch, and as soon as you got up you felt too weak to stand, collapsing into your professor’s arms. He carried you off, back to his home in Parfaedia, where you shall forever remain. Not another class was held after your sudden disappearance. The previous students who passed the final exams showed up the next day however there was no professor there to either greet them or scold them for being two minutes late. All one student noticed was a flower on your desk, where you used to sit. A white mum, sitting in the center of your oak desk, right in the front of the class.

Speaking of white flowers, you woke up in a place where he had personally went out of his way to make sure it welcomed you. Tons of white flowers of different genuses, as well as heavenly light cascading through light curtains. It looked just like heaven— white walls, tile floor, everything was lightly colored, never straying past white or crème, all to contrast with his dark color scheme, like an inkblot on white paper. When you awoke, you had no recollection of what happened prior, yet you could kind of figure out how you got there. Perhaps you followed him home? No, you fell unconscious. Did you subconsciously agree to come here? Did he have other plans with you? He walked in the room with a small silver tray and the most pristine white coffee cup atop a saucer, steaming with hot coffee inside. Soft lofi music can be heard in the background as he walks in, does he have his phone on in his pocket? Regardless, he has a wonderful music sense.

The smile he had on his face… how come you’ve never seen that smile before? He has smiled at you before, don’t catch yourself wrong, but this one is… different. It seemed… sick. Like he was mental— as though he had succumbed to the darkness in him. You accepted the coffee from him, and he went over to open the curtains, letting the light from the sun flood into the room from that gorgeous window. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us, dear.” He said, his smile evident in his tone. He turned to you, chocolate brown eyes agleam, “We must be out by eleven am, no more, no less. We have to get your new wardrobe started, we have to get your hair trimmed, we have to—“ “Doctor.” You interjected, while drinking your coffee you looked him in the eye. “Where am I?” You asked. His smile suddenly grew a bit in size and he began to giggle to himself quietly, putting a hand to his mouth to stifle the noises of his happiness. “What’s so funny?” “Oh, you! We’re home, silly! You are home.”

home ・　・　・

h o m e ・　・　・

That word never felt more incorrect in your head. This isn’t your home. This isn’t your bedroom. This is not your place of residence.

He set this up.

He set this up to kidnap you.

“This isn’t my home, doc-“ “Oh, but it is!” He interjected, “this is your new home. Your new home where you will stay.” His tone at the end of that sentence made your skin almost crawl, yet the heat in between your legs betrayed that grossed out feeling you felt. Why was your body feeling two completely different emotions in this situation— arousal and confusion? That’s strange.

“Anyway,” he took a moment to creep over to the side of the bed where he took his seat, weight slightly shifting to the left side of the bed. He crossed his leg over and leaned closer to you, putting a hand to your now blushed face. This was all so confusing for you, why is this happening? Why is he touching you again? His touch felt different as well. It had a possessive tinge to it that made it feel wrong, yet it was soft and caring, almost feather like against your skin. “I cant wait to decorate you, my darling.”

Decorate? What could he mean by that? Decorate via clothes? Decorate via accessories? Jewelry? Marks…? Bruises? Hickeys? He sighed and kisses your cheek, followed with him humming to himself. He got up and started to head towards the door. “Get dressed, my darling, we must be out shortly—“ He turned to look at you, looking up at him with those confused doll like eyes that were red and glossy, like you were about to cry. He sighed through his nose, you could see his chest going up and down with the inhale and exhale. And then he sighed audibly, walking back towards you and crawling back onto the bed by the footboard, getting closer to you, touching the nape of your neck with the tip of his nose, taking in your sweet scent with a sickly smile on his face before he put the nape of your neck in his mouth, biting down almost aggressively. This automatically caused you to inhale and then yelp, resulting in a stifled laugh to come from the darker cookie above you. He grabbed hold of your thigh and placed it with on his side, holding it there, squeezing at it tenderly. He continued to suck on your neck, either going up your neck or down, onto your shoulders leaving small peppers of bite marks. Your hands didn’t know what to do, so they just found themselves to be in Espresso’s short hair, entangling themselves. It felt good, almost like a surge of exhilaration going through your body, the heat of the fire going through a fireplace. The heat of your body increasing higher and higher, you catch yourself panting. It almost feels like a wet dream. In well pressed black slacks did he take his knee and push his kneecap in between your legs as he sucked away at you, pushing at you to release more of your intoxicating voice that he forced out of your lungs with each breath and action. It was his now.

He wanted to claim you.

He kept grinding his knee into your soaked cunt protected by your undergarments, making you cry out in ecstasy. You put your other thigh up on his other side so that he could have more leg room, so that you could want more. So that you could have more, you with your selfish mind in your selfish fantasies. This is what you’ve been dreaming about yet you never thought your dreams would come true—all the gaslighting he did during the two semesters left you down sighted, almost with no real close reality to follow by. However, you were sure that he meant what he was doing.

He licked up at your neck, a long thin train of saliva coating the front of your throat. You laughed and moaned and squealed, feeling your orgasm building up from his constant demand. “D-D-Doc-ctor! I… I-I’m-mm cl-o-o-se! Eee..!” You squealed in your aching breath. He chuckled as he kissed up your neck, nearly sending you over the edge. When you were sure you were about to cum, he pulls away and looks at you, wide eyed by his actions. He chuckled darkly at your facial expression as you felt your orgasm peak away, shaking a finger in your face. “I had to, you’re so cute… but sadly you won’t be getting all the glitters yet.” He said with a sultry smirk before crawling off of the bed and walking towards the door. He turned to look at you, you wore the same for eyes as you had on before his ministrations. “Get cleaned up now, darling. Cover your neck with some color corrector and get dressed. We have a long day ahead of us, remember?” He walked out, shutting the door behind him.

You never felt more used in your life.

You eventually went out with Espresso, but no had set up ground rules for you when you both go out in public. They sounded obscene, however you kind of understood them. “Wherever I go, you go. Be calm, be polite, and be courteous. Do not speak unless spoken to. You must always refer to me as Espresso.”

You learned something about him very quickly: Espresso is extremely controlling.

Every time something caught your eye, he would immediately drag you back to his side. He would always hold onto your hand, never letting go. He had a specific set time for every little thing. He would take at least ten minutes with you browsing, and then, to the fitting rooms you two went. However, he would let you pick out half and half— things you liked, things he liked. Casual versus dress. He liked the clothes he chose better, they made you look more doll like, more pretty and clean, crisp and perfect.

One that he specifically liked was a crème colored dress with brown trim. Floral embroidery at the bottom hem and frills around the sleeveless sweetheart neckline. It made you look like a waitress at a German bar, but nevertheless, he liked it, very much so. From then on he worked to expand your wardrobe, slowly changing his mind on the clothes he wanted you to wear. No longer did he really seem to care about your fashion tastes, he wanted you to wear what he wanted you to wear and that would be the end of the discussion. From the crown of your head to the heels of your feet— you would be dressed to his design, from formal clothes to casual to even pajamas— would you believe that all your pajamas were made of that satin like silk and were all lightly colored? So comfy? You’d think he was doing you a favor at least to allow you to live in some kind of comfort, although we digress that it’s rather short lived.

Each morning there was a set ritualistic schedule that he implemented. Every morning, after getting showered, teeth brushed, hair blow dried and makeup applied, you are to meet him in the kitchen no more or no less than nine thirty. He would place a mat on the kitchen floor, and while he sat in front of you, sitting in a pale oak chair facing you, you sat on the mat, sitting in your knees. At first, you thought this was ridiculous. You would often refuse him in the beginning. Espresso was first gracious and patient in the beginning, offering to coach and coax you down into doing what he wanted you to do, but soon that faded. When he wanted you down, he wanted you down. “Sit!” He would yell at you as though you were a dog. Out of fear you would automatically do as you were told. Espresso wasn’t known by name to be aggressive, however, that doesn’t mean he can’t get that way. You’ve seen that he can and will use either words or certain items against you to get you to do what he wants— he owns whips. That’s not surprising to most, and he has come close to using them. When he talks, he expects you to give your undivided attention to him and failure to do this will result in a harsh, condescending scolding.

“Hasn’t your mother taught you to look people in the eye when being addressed? What is wrong with you anyway?”

He would start with a calm smile and a quick correction of his glasses sitting on the brim of his nose.

“Now… what are the rules?”

“Rule one, wherever you go… I also go..”

“Go on…”

“Rule… rule two… I must be calm, polite, and courteous.”

“Good, try not to stutter too much, love. What’s rule three?”

“Rule three is… I… I must not speak unless spoken to.”

“And rule four…?”

“I… ah…” you always panicked here. It’s not because you didn’t remember because he always made sure you remembered this rule specifically, but you hated it. You now hated his name more than anything. He scared you, he’s too domineering, too dark minded, sick, twisted, lovesick…

He’s like a disease.

“What’s rule four, my darling? Come on now.”

“I… must always re-refer to you as… as Espresso.”

With that he would praise you and allow you to stand, not letting you leave yet however, he still wanted something from you. At the end of that session, every single morning, he wanted you to tell him that you loved him and for you to give him a kiss. At first you didn’t mind this, simple enough right? Just tell him you love him and kiss his cheek, right? Simple. No. He didn’t want you to do it like that. He wanted you to smile, show him your shining eyes, he wanted a proper kiss, in his head that would be to the mouth. This soon began to grow ill on you and you soon began to detest this part. Of course, like eating your vegetables or paying your bills, you had to get it out of the way in order to continue with your day. But this isn’t the only thing that was scheduled by him.

Let’s not forget the fact that he made you quit your job, if you so had one, to keep a better eye on you and to get a better hold on your time. He wants you bound to his house and if that means taking away your source of income, he will do that. In turn for this absence of funds, he gives you monthly allowances that come out of his paychecks. Five hundred dollars a month, for you to use as you need to. But, in the end, you barely ever use this money since he buys everything for you.

So what’s the point?

What is the point?

Lunch came at noon sharp. He expected you to attend. This means that you had to drop whatever you are doing to meet him back in the kitchen to once again, go over the rules, and end it off with an “I love you, Espresso,” with a kiss. He does this multiple times a day. If any outings are to occur, he has a set time for them as well. Dinner is at six, and you are expected to clean up for bed no later than ten thirty, and to be in bed no later than midnight, which is rather hypocritical of him considering the fact that he barely sleeps, and you didn’t mind to call him out for this. “Why do I need to go to bed at a certain time when you yourself won’t sleep for days?” His only answer is “because I say so,” and that will be the end of it. You talk back, he gets mean to correct you. To make sure that you followed this time schedule, he would often feign sleep, in your bed, abandoning his own bedroom during most nights, to ensure you were doing as you were told. Not that he didn’t have a problem with that, he would much rather lay with you than alone.

This is your new life, your new ordinary life. Now let’s ask ourselves: Why didn’t she say no? Why didn’t she resist the offers he made, his silly little mind games? The taunting, the teasing, the gaslighting, the brutal words behind him sweet smile… well…

There’s some things in life one just can’t resist. We always seem to let curiosity and desires get the best of us, don’t we? You walk with him, arm in arm, dull eyes with a pure fake smile, silent as a doll. You played the part as a doll quite well under his gaze, and you were always under it. He’s covered every bit of your clothes in his cologne, the savory smell of gourmet roasted coffee beans. He’s not going to let you was it out either, he’ll just cover you back up in his scent again, just like a disease that you can’t rid yourself of no matter how hard you try.

#infrawrites #infra@212!#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #yandere crk #crk espresso cookie #espresso cookie #espresso cookie x reader #tw smut #tw yandere #yandere #x reader #yandere x darling

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astridhoff03 · 2 months

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Siege & Storms - chapter 2 Astrid & Hiccup

-However, before Astrid could close the door behind her, Valka raised her voice. “Astrid, if you want to talk. I’m always here.” Astrid smiled, brushing a strand of her long hair out of her face. "Thanks, Valka."

The stone was cold and wet beneath her bare feet, icy rain wet her heated skin and let the thin fabric of the tunic stick to her skin, exposing her nipples. Her gaze slid to the sky, which was covered in thick black clouds. The raindrops flowed down her chin like a small torrent. "Oh, Hiccup, where are you?" Raindrops continually rolled off her glowing skin, she closed her eyes, her hands clenched into steel fists. Her heart burned with desire and longing. He was alive, he was alive, she continued to tell herself in her mind, fighting the urge to burst into tears. Astrid saw something blue come into her field of vision out of the corner of her eye and suddenly the rain above her stopped. Stormfly's golden gaze collided with hers, a faint smile playing on Astrid's lips as she stroked her nadder's lower jaw. "Thank you." Her pulse calmed again and the tears in her eyes dried up. She was a warrior, a general for Thor's sake. Hiccup was alive, she knew it, deep in her heart. It was enough for her. She would look for him alone and not rest until she found him. "Come on, Stormfly, let's go." Astrid ran back into the house, threw on her clothes and grabbed her axe. She also packed a bag with water, provisions, bandages and fresh clothes. She left a note at the dinner table for Valka. Saddled up, Stormfly was already waiting impatiently for them in the pouring rain when Astrid closed the door behind her. With quick movements, Astrid secured her ax and bag to the saddle before she sat down. Cold wind mixed with icy raindrops fell on her face as they took off and flew away from Berk.

The waves surged like high mountains over the sunken city, lightning broke through the night. The massive shadow of the Phantomfin glided majestically like a great cloud of black smoke over a hidden grotto in the ruins. Toothless grumbled and snuggled against the legs of his best friend, the person who had never given up on him despite the unforgivable act he had committed. Hiccup gently stroked his dragon's smooth scales on his head, which glowed silver in the light of each lightning strike. His chest rose and fell with every heartbeat. He heard the blood rushing in his veins with every wave that surged, with every drop that fell from the onyx-colored rocks of the cave, with every heavy step that echoed off the cave walls. He was there immediately. It could only be a matter of seconds. Hiccup looked into his best friend's big green eyes, which reflected his own fear. “Don’t worry, Toothless, we won’t die today. We won't die today. We will fight for our people, for our friends, my mother, my father." He paused briefly at the painful memory of his father's dead body, who had sacrificed himself for him and Toothless. Hiccup gritted his teeth, trying to push away the memory, the thought that he was about to come face to face with the man who was the real reason his father had to die. "Hiccup, you're much stronger than you think," he suddenly heard a very familiar voice in his head. The memory of his father instantly blurred with the sound of love in Astrid's voice. She stood in front of him, her delicate, soft fingers sliding over his chest. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a loose braid that evening, Berk was still in ice and destruction, his childhood home was one of the few that had been spared. He looked down at her, how could she stay so strong while the house she grew up in was in ruins again and her own father had only escaped death with serious injuries. He took her hand and kissed her palm. "Astrid, how do you manage to stay so strong all the damn time?" A sad smile played on her beautiful lips. "Hiccup, I'm not always strong either and you know that. Should I tell you a secret, sometimes I scream inside because I don't allow myself to cry, I don't allow myself to deviate from the ideal that I'm supposed to represent in my clan, my family . I am strong Yes, but I am not invulnerable. And do you know what has kept me alive in every single battle we have fought so far?” Tears gathered in her fathomless eyes. "You. Hiccup, you are my gravity, the driving force that drives me forward in every battle. Never in my life did I think that I would love someone as much as I love you. I love you, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third, with all your flaws and the qualities that make you so special. I love you." "I love you too, very much," he whispered back, his finger wiping the one tear from her cheek. “And I thank you for always being there for me, my rock, my partner not only in battle but also in my life, for choosing me of all. And I promise you, you can cry at me, scream at me, kick as much as you want. I will never love you less because of it.” “We stay strong for each other,” Astrid finished, her voice broken. He would fight to get back home to the woman he loved and desired more than anything. Hiccup looked down into Toothless' green eyes and he would fight for his best friend. A deep voice snapped Hiccup out of this wondrous memory, he jumped when the shadow of Drago Bludvist appeared on the cave wall. "Hiccup, come out and finally fight like a real man."

#httyd fanfiction #httyd the fire tides #the fire tides #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #drago bludvist #httyd #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #httyd franchise

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pacifymebby · 2 months

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t r o u b l e / chapter thirty three

Sonya

Despite their disbelief, and perhaps in some ways despite my own, when my brothers raised their brows and smirked down at me like we were all in on some kind of in-joke, I remained determined. Standing in front of them with my arms crossed over my chest, tears streaking my cheeks and brimming in my eyes as I looked up at them both with a fierce kind of defiance. It was a look that had they been asked they'd have said they'd not seen from their other sisters. Only me.

"Sonya love, have you ever actually cooked breakfast before?" Chuckled Arthur not realising the cold glare he would receive from me until it was too late. Until the steely look in my eyes had left him swallowing a lump in his throat whilst Tommy laughed at his sudden shyness.

"Fen no one's asking you to cook breakfast eh, we've not got the time anyway... If you want to help why don't you go put the kettle on, nice strong cup of coffee will see us right." Said Tommy, his own expression a little softer though he was still smirking too, still laughing at me quietly, thinking I couldn't tell that he was laughing at me quietly.

So I fixed him with the same determined glare and I tried my best to strike the same icy warning into his heart. But his had always been impenetrable and so he didn't flinch. Only patted me on the cheek and let his lips tug into a small closed lipped smile before sending me on my way.

And because I wasn't Sylvie I did as I was told. Stormed through the hallway and into the kitchen, feeling the cool of the stone floor on my feet, wishing it would cool the humiliation burning inside me and on my skin so that no one else could witness my childish temper. The tears which had flushed my cheeks the way they would have done a little girl.

I put the coffee pot on the stove and lit the gas burner watching it with determined eyes. I held myself with my arms around my body, fingers grazing my shoulders, trying to hold myself together and soothe my wild emotions. It all felt so tight, so overwhelming, this choked up feeling in my chest and in my throat as I tried to hold back the tears.

They'd laughed at me, I'd wanted to help and they'd chuckled and dismissed my concerns the way they always had ever since I was a little girl. Me and Sylvie had always been those sisters, the ones who couldn't possibly understand, the ones who were too sweet for their own good and so we're affectionately smirked at and dismissed with ease.

Even now when it was Sylvie we were all so fucking concerned for. They still couldn't spare me a shred of seriousness.

I flinched when I felt hands on top of mine over my shoulders. A startled breath escaping me as my body stiffened.

"Use the cafetiere," Aunt Pol's voice was husky but warm, she sounded like she'd spent the night out in the gardens and when I remembered what Bonnie had told me the night before I couldn't help but smirk. "That's how I like to slow them down when their reckless schemes start running away with them." She rubbed her hands over my shoulders, holding me back against her in a motherly embrace. One which didn't help me hold back my tears. "Now, what's this I hear about you spending the night snuggled up with a gypsy lad eh?" She asked with a teasing light in her eyes when she spun me around to face her, trying to distract me by painting a blush on my cheeks.

I'd hardly thought of Bonnie since my brothers had returned to the manor covered in blood, that wild murderers look in their hollow features. Now that Polly had reminded me of the way I'd spent the early hours of the morning cradled in his gentle arms, it was hard not to think of anything else. Hard to ignore the twinge of guilt the butterflies in my tummy evoked.

So I looked at her with my head cocked and smirked.

"Could ask you the same question..."

And when I said that her eyes went wide and her smile grew to a grin of disbelief, her laughter a low chuckle as she feigned spanking my cheek.

"Cheeky little girl!" She laughed, though she didn't deny my suggestion and her smile told me everything I needed to know.

That Bonnie had been telling the truth. But more than that, she was happy. Really happy.

"You look so shocked Pol," I said slyly, my smile teasing now, my blush faded at the sight of hers, "don't you know no one gets to keep secrets in this family..."

I hadn't meant to wipe the smile off her face or leave her with a guilty shadow in her eyes. I'd only been teasing, thought we were in on the joke together but when I saw the way her face fell I felt another shard of guilt through my heart.

"Oh Pol I'm..." I began but she shook her head, smile twitched in the corner of her mouth.

"Don't be sorry love," she said, "I'm as sure it's true as anyone else..." she said taking the pot of the stove and filling the cafetiere. "There's a trolley love," she said, "and a tray... The trick is to force them to slow down... You want them to eat when they're in this state? You have to trick them into it... Fuckin thick headed cunts the lot of them..."

"Men in general or just my brothers?" I asked dryly as I arranged a vintage tea set and placed the cafetiere at the center of the tray on the trolley.

"There are some..." she mused, that twinkle in her eyes as she looked at me, "and when you find one you make sure to do much more than cuddle up on the sofa for the evening my girl..." she winked before sending me on my way.

I rolled my eyes, kept the thought to myself.

That I already had found one. That I already had done more than cuddle up on the sofa for the evening. That the evidence of that was growing in my womb cradled inside me. Terrifying me.

"Well well," chuckled John when I disturbed the peace in the dining room with the rattle of the trolley. "There was me thinking we'd spoiled you so much you didn't know where the kitchen was..." he teased, leaning back in his chair, his legs kicked up on the dining table as he scrolled his phone.

The kids were in the living room and the sound of cartoon network could be heard through the open doors. The television turned up a little too loud, probably on purpose.

I knew what they were like my brothers see, turn the TV up and shut the kids in the living room out of the way, let the kids think they're pulling one over on the adults by staying in there quietly, watching the TV all morning instead of going outside or doing their homework. They'd probably feel so proud of themselves, so mischievous and clever. Really it was just their dad's wanting them out the way for a few hours whilst they ironed out the details of their next dark deed.

"Ain't for you..." I narrowed my eyes at him but the smirk on my lips was enough to let him know I didn't mean it.

"Don't know if you've noticed Fen but I'm the only one here..." he grinned, the kind of shit eating grin he'd always been able to piss me off with. More so that morning because I knew he was right, I'd noticed Tommy and Arthur's absence the second I'd walked in.

The fact that I'd been breaking silence was enough to tell me that my brothers had once again tried to manipulate the situation, even if only so they could sneak away without so much as a coffee. So that they could push my concerns and Pols concerns to the side. Carry on charging ahead as if they were the only people in the world that mattered.

But whatever they'd been planning they'd failed. That much became apparent when Arthur came stumbling through the door, arms raised above his head in surrender ducking out the way of a whipped tea towel.

"Now you fuckin get in there, sit yourselves down and drink your sodding coffee! Your sisters been thoughtful enough to brew it so you'll bloody well sit down and enjoy it!" Scolded Polly following him into the room, turning with her hand on her hip to Tommy who stood in the doorway watching as his brother fell into a chair at the dining table. His freshly washed hair still dripping wet onto his new shirt.

Tommy chuckled, stroked his chin as he took in the sight of his defeated brother, as he looked between me and Polly and shook his head.

"Fuckin women..." he shook his head, a smirk on his lips which didn't fly with our aunt.

"Fuckin women are the only reason any of you daft cunts are still alive!" She said sharply, "now sit down Thomas..."

"Alright, alright.." he chuckled pulling a chair out from the table, sitting down slowly, too casually. Pols scolding leaving no mark on him as he folded the collar of his shirt down and finished doing up the buttons.

The two of them had clearly been so much determined to leave before we could notice, that they'd barely dressed themselves, shoes on before their shirts were tucked in or their watches were set.

"Alright," sighed Tommy, "we'll drink the fuckin coffee... " He sat back in his chair, arms resting on the arms, looking up at Polly with that quiet, smirking sort of challenge in his eyes. Like he was laughing at us both quietly. But he wouldn't dare laugh at Polly.

"Thank you Fen, you shouldn't have..." nodded Arthur a little stiffly, his voice gruff as he raised his empty mug in my direction awkwardly.

Tommy watched me as I reached for the press, pushing it slowly with a trembling hand. I couldn't tell you why I was so nervous but in that moment I felt all the weight in the world pushing down with me, felt like everyone in the room was watching me. Like the rising tension was dependent entirely on me. If I made one wrong move, pushed the press a little too quickly, if I spilt any when I poured them each a cup, the whole thin conversation would tear in two. I felt the words rush from me before I knew what I was asking or why I was asking it.

"You said he hasn't hurt her?" I asked in the same moment Arthur opened his mouth to break the silence too. We'd always been the same side of nervous.

"No Fen, he hasn't hurt her." Said Tommy calmly. It was unnerving the way his expression didn't change.

"Good," I said, I could hear the slight rattle of metal on metal as my trembling fingers hovered over the cafetiere. Knew I was only talking now to drown it out. "That's good."

"Thomas..." started Pol, she hasn't sat down, had remained standing there in my periphery, in shadow. When she spoke now it was with conviction, a desperation she was trying to hide from me and me only.

And then Tommy let out a sigh, one of those long drawn out sort of sighs. The kind I knew would be followed by a question. The kind of question I knew was going to start another fight. I just hadn't expected his question to be directed at me.

"What are you doing making us coffee for Fen?"

"Just drink your fucking coffee Thomas for fuck sake..." started Polly, the roll of her eyes enough to leave Arthur smirking like a naughty school boy. But Tommy didn't seem to notice at all.

"No really, Fen... what are you doing? You shouldn't be making us fuckin coffee..." and suddenly although he spoke quietly, I could see a kind of worn out frustration in his eyes. In the way he held my gaze when I froze with the cafetière hovering above Arthur's coffee cup.

"I mean, now that we're here brother, it has been a long night and a coffee would probably take the edge off the drive down..." Started Arthur, only trailing off when Tommy raised his hand to silence him, moved his cold eyes from me to our older brother without a word.

I looked between them, the cafetière feeling heavy in my hands as I found myself frozen. Waiting for permission to pour Arthur's mug.

"Didn't I always say that you and your sister, and Finn for that matter, didn't I always say that you three weren't gonna grow up into all this?"

"It's just coffee Tom..." started Arthur, his brow knitted in confusion.

I however already understood.

"No," Tommy shook his head, "no brother, it ain't just coffee at all.. see you think its just coffee to begin with and thats the trouble, you think its just one cup of coffee the morning after the night from hell but it ain't, that fuckin coffee is just the seed and before you know it its a hot cup of coffee whilst she's washing the blood from our shirts and then next time she's cleaning our wounds, and then maybe one day she'll learn to fuckin pull a bullet from our arm and patch us back up and then the next thing you know she's there at the very fuckin heart of it watching as the gun gets fired... and if you ain't fuckin careful the next time a gun goes off it'll be her finger on the trigger eh..."

I didn't realise I'd been pouring until I looked down and saw it spilling over the rim of Arthurs cup into the saucer.

"It's never just a cup of coffee..." finished Tommy looking only at me. Holding my gaze as I remained frozen like a deer in the headlights.

I didn't realise I was still pouring until it began to trickle over the edge of the saucer onto the table cloth.

"Shit...sorry Arthur..." I whispered when I felt his hand on my wrist to steady me, taking the cafetière from my hands and placing it down on the table.

"Never you mind love, never you mind..." he said warmly, a wry grin on his lips when John piped up.

"Aye Fen, s'only a fuckin coffee after all..." he sniggered, "christ Tommy, you think she's made you one cup of coffee so now she's got a taste for the criminal fuckin underworld... our Fen's gonna start sleeping with a gun under her pillow just cause she knows I take two sugars in me tea?" he was grinning, laughing into his sleeve but Tommy was still starring fixedly at me.

"Bloody theatrics Thomas," scolded Polly as she shook her head and sat down, her arms folded across her chest. "Enough fuckin theatrics, this melodrama ain't gonna bring my little niece home is it? If you care so much about what your sisters do and don't see I suggest you focus on Sylvie in the lions fuckin den eh?"

"Thats where we was going ain't it Pol.. you're the one who stopped us ain't you..."

Tommy reached across the table to pour himself a cup of coffee. He fixed me with the same determined sorry look in his eyes once more but this time I didn't look away. I couldn't. Something about that unspoken apology had me captivated by morbid curiosity.

I knew I wasn't going to like what he had to say for himself and yet I wanted to hear it all the same.

"I mean it Fen," he said without acknowledging Polly or Arthur, speaking to me as if it was only me sitting at that table with him, "You ain't here to look after us and I don't want you anywhere near any of this from now on..."

"I live here now remember Tommy." I said quietly, determined to hold his gaze despite the nerves that sparked inside me. "I can't fuckin leave."

"All the same... wasn't right you seeing us the way you did this morning, it wasn't right and I'm sorry..."

"Fuck your sorry..." I fixed him with a glare, fists clenched so that my nails stung my palms. And I meant it. Couldn't forgive him for dragging me all the way here, holding me prisoner in my own fucking family home only to announce so surely that I wasn't to be part of the family. That I wasn't to help at all. That my other brothers were giggling about all the ways in which I wasn't like them. That even my aunt was smirking a little because Tommy's melodrama had left me the butt of another one of Johns stupid jokes.

"Fen..." groaned Arthur seeing my temper, one which never really rushed me the way that Sylvie's did her. One which seemed to spring up in a flurry of tears instead.

Tears they could all no doubt see were brimming in my eyes then as I stood there trying to be angry instead of just hurt.

"Fuck your sorrys, you're my fucking brothers," I sniffled, "you found my sister..."

"Aye but we shouldn't have fuckin lost her..." Said Arthur, his gruff voice laced with a guilt I knew ran deep.

"Either way," I said, doing my best to hold myself together, my arms folded over my chest more to keep myself secure than anything else, "if I want to make you coffee I'll make you fuckin coffee."

For a moment the room was silent. Arthur looking at his hand holding his coffee a little too tightly. John looking down at his lap, his smirk still sitting unrivalled on his lips. Tommy still just looking at me, just watching. Somewhere behind his eyes the cogs were turning and he was organising and compartmentalising every feeling that had rushed out of me and into him.

I felt the flush or irritation, my anguish and embarrassment as the tears began to trickle down my cheeks and I began to cry. I was only humiliating myself. Only proving to them once again that Tommy was right, that I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near them or "it" because I wasn't made for this world. I was made for something else, some other life lined with cotton wool, softened by wealth and a good school.

I wanted to leave. Wanted to runaway from them again but as if he could read my mind Tommy pulled out the empty chair beside him and told me to sit down. And because the rush of anger had already left me, I did as I was told and I sat there, hands holding each other in my lap, starring intently at the empty coffee cup in front of me.

I didn't have the courage to look any of them in the eyes. Didn't have the tenacity to smirk along when John let out a chuckle and made some half hearted joke about the nuclear family.

"Y'know Fen," said Tommy, ignoring the chuckle John had drawn from Arthur, talking as if there wasn't a single other soul in that room but him and me, "you're all mam you are, ain't a shadow of our father in you..."

It was my turn to smirk then. Knowing what that really meant. Knowing that it was the kindest way he could possibly tell me I was least Shelby-like Shelby, that it was a wonder me and Sylvie were twins. That it was a wonder I was family at all.

"And thats a good thing sweetheart!" said Arthur leaning across the table to rub my shoulder, to pinch my chin and force my gaze up to his, "thats somat to fuckin smile about that is!"

Tommy had always said the same in softer words, assured me that it was a good thing but there were times I wasn't so sure. Time like just then, when I was sitting at a table with all of them, Polly with all her shadows and sinister memories, the troubles she'd survived because of her sharp spirit, my brothers who'd learned to breathe through the killing at an early age.

"Aye," nodded John, "imagine the hell you'd have put us through if you were both like fuckin Syl eh?"

I didn't say a word, just sat there trying to catch my tears on my long sleeves, trying to control the sobs which were always so difficult to catch up with once they'd started.

Tommy poured me a coffee and I tried to say thank you but when my voice caught in my throat my eyes welled up tearful once more so I shook my head, forced a tight closed lipped smile and did my best told hold my hands steady enough to hold my cup.

"Right well," said Tommy, both hands on the arms of his chair as he stood and broke the silence, "enough of my fuckin theatrics eh?" he said, "Arthur come on, we're wasting precious time ain't we, wouldn't want those lions to turn now would we..."

"Thomas..." said Polly, her voice shadowed with the same warning from before. Her chair scraped across the floor sharply as she stood. Her hand hesitant to reach out to her nephew. She looked desperate. A still and silent desperation, one which wanted to scream but couldn't. She was trying to control it but these days the darkness she felt inside had a tendency to seep into every corner of the room.

"Not now Pol, you're the one who wanted us to focus on Fen..." he said gesturing for Arthur to follow him as they turned to the dining room door and Polly began to scramble after them.

"Yes but Tommy!" her voice was shredded, shaking, she sounded so scared, too scared for that quiet early morning dining room, "Thomas wait! Tommy!" she called catching him, snatching at his shirt sleeve only to be shrugged off, ducking beneath his arm and snatching at his collar instead. Forcing him to a standstill as she looked up at him with fierce but desperate eyes. Wild, almost manic. It was a fear I'd never seen before. One which had me stand slowly, shakily to my feet. One which left a hollow feeling between my heart and my throat.

"Tommy please! Just... just fucking listen to me alright, you can't go!"

"For god sake Pol!" he snapped, his temper flaring as he tried to push her away and she tightened her grip, her fingers threatening to tear his clothes. "You want us to bring her home don't you?" he asked, cutting her off when she tried to argue, her 'yes but...' broken in two by Tommy's sharper tone, "don't you?"

"But not like this! Not now! Tommy you don't understand... you aren't listening to me, to what I've seen!"

And when she said those words I saw John roll his eyes. Heard him push his own chair back and felt his presence behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

"Cmon Fen," he sighed, "don't need to watch this..."

"Enough!" snapped Tommy, his voice lowering when he pushed her up against the fireplace, the hearth digging into the back of her neck, her wide eyes rabbit like as she stood her ground, whole body shaking. This cloudy kind of panic in her eyes.

"Tommy what the..." I started, Arthur's voice drowning mine out as we protested, the same pitiful "be careful," that went ignored.

John tried to shift me a pace forward but I couldn't move, couldn't take my eyes of my brothers, off my aunt who looked petrified. Not of Tommy, not of the threat on the tip of his tongue or the way he held her, but of something else. Of what she'd seen.

"Cmon Fen..." whispered John with a little more urgency, "trust me lass these turns are never easy to watch..."

"John what turns?" I whispered, "what do you mean turns? What's wrong with her?" I asked quietly, voice shaking as I looked on in horror.

"Enough now Pol! Eh?" Tommy held her face in both his hands, his own face so close to hers she must have been able to feel his breath on her cheeks. "Enough," he said a little quieter.

"Listen to me Tommy, Thomas please, you don't understand... you can't go now... you'll get her back but not... not this way not like this, please Thomas don't look at me like I'm crazy you know I'm not fucking crazy... this is the truth you just don't want to accept it... please Thomas listen to me!" she hissed, her voice a low whispered mumble, frantic, words tripping over words. "what about Michael Tommy, I told you about Michael... didn't I... I saw him Tommy, I saw him and then... just the same... just like this... Thomas, I saw him!" she implored him, her horror washing over Tommy like water he couldn't feel as he looked at her with a growing sadness and shook his head. There was something so hopeless about them both then, the way they gripped one another too tightly, the way she looked to him with all this desperation, this certainty that he would give in if only she could get through to him. The way he looked at her the way you look at all lost things: wondering how they'd gotten there.

Even when John pushed me a little harder, forced me to leave the room with him I was still watching her. Couldn't take my eyes off her until she was out of sight. Her manic eyes clouded over. She'd said she wasn't crazy but it was a kind of madness, the fear which had gripped her, driven her to that wild panic.

I watched my brothers leave in the range rover not twenty minutes later. The blacked out windows reflecting the early morning sun. Tires crunching gravel as they rolled slowly out of the driveway. I watched them from my bedroom window, holding myself carefully, still thinking about that morning. The fireplace digging into the back of Pollys neck. The sorry look in Tommys eyes when she'd started mumbling. Her distressed whispers going round and round in my head.

I stood watching the garden, not really seeing the garden at all. Seeing neither the empty driveway nor the rain gathering in puddles which saturated the grass and the flowerbeds. Left mud seeping between the stones. It was a grey sky overhead, a gathering gloom. The rain in the night had carried through to morning and the world seemed stubborn to stay the same. Stubborn like a fucking Shelby.

The bedroom was dark because I hadn't turned the lights up that morning and the sunlight wasn't strong enough to poke through the grey. So the room was shadowed as if the clouds hung from my ceiling and as I thought about Polly, wondered where she was now, I felt as in shadow myself.

And perhaps that's why I didn't notice his shadow in the doorway, didn't notice him at all until he'd tapped three times and my name had left his lips a little too softly to be heard above the rain. Still, he'd reached me somehow and I turned sharply, startled by him though I shouldn't have been.

"Sorry..." he said when he saw my wide eyes, saw how pale I was, how cloaked in shadow, "didn't mean to..." he trailed off, like he'd noticed something just behind me but really it was just me, just the grey which lingered under my red rimmed eyes. He could see everything I'd seen that morning haunting me. "Been looking for you."

"Not a very good bodyguard then are you," I said a little too stiffly, my smile a little delayed so that at first I sounded sharper, more sullen than I'd meant to, "I've been in my room all day... isn't that the first place you'd want to start looking?"

"Had a sneaky feeling you didn't want to be found straight away..." he said his eyes meeting mine with a quiet understanding.

"Clever boy." I forced a smirk, tried to roll my eyes and joke along. Struggled to hide the struggle.

"You don't need to worry about Pol," he said then, his voice had the same shadow in it I recognised from the way my brothers often spoke, I knew he was trying to say more, "she's staying with me da, down by the river, he reckons it'll settle her, the trees and the water an all..." he trailed off, realising perhaps that I wasn't quite listening. Realising perhaps that when he'd mentioned the river, the trees, my mind had followed Pol blindly to the edge of the estate. That telling me she was alright wasn't going to stop my mind wandering always back to the mornings theatrics. The fireplace digging into her neck. The words which had tumbled so troubled from her lips.

"She said she saw Michael..." I said, "do you know what she meant?"

In truth I had a feeling I already knew exactly what she'd meant.

"No lass," he said softly, "don't know your aunt Pol half as well as I should all considered," he added with a cheekier smile as he slipped inside the bedroom and closed the door, leaning back against it until it clicked shut, waiting a moment more before he lowered his voice "but I'll take you down to the camp later, you can ask her yourself eh? Just don't mention it to your brother cause he'll have me balls..."

"But..." I started, mouth opening and closing. There was still so much space between us, me leaning against the window frame, him the doorframe. My eyes fixed on his through the low grey light. There was something so haunted, so weary about the scene and yet still he was smirking. Still he didn't seem scared at all. Unphased by the darkness I'd felt closing in on me all day. "What's wrong with her?" I asked, "why won't they let me see her?" I felt the panic rise in my throat. The doomed worry. Id been ruminating on the trouble all day, thinking of all these different illnesses and conditions that could explain Tommy's sorrow, that hopeless sigh which had left John earlier that morning when he'd tried to steer me away and out of earshot. Dementia, Schizophrenia, Psychosis, some kind of post traumatic stress induced breakdown. All would have been more logical ways of explaining away my aunts outburst, and in truth it would have been more comforting to believe that she really had been suffering some kind of hallucination. But I wasn't stupid.

"They think she's ill," said Bonnie his voice grave, "she ain't though, just like anyone else who gets a bad feelin about somet and trusts it..."

"Gypsy shit?" I asked only able to smile when he split a grin and laughed.

"Aye," he said shaking his head a little, relieved to see me smiling along with him, relieved that for a moment that shadow had been lifted, "aye its gypsy shit..."

"Oh," I said feeling a little flutter of relief, a strange frenzied butterfly feeling inside me as my smile grew and his eyes lit up a little. No more shadows. "Well thats good," I said nodding, "good I'm glad."

"Well, little miss Glad," he chuckled, "actually came looking for you because I thought you might like to come watch your bodyguard in action... y'know, see just how tough I am..." he held up his fists as if to demonstrate his fighters prowess but couldn't hold the serious face for long enough and when he cracked another grin I couldn't help but laugh at him, already straying from the window towards him when he shook his head and nodded me over.

"Promise it won't be half as boring as you think."

"Two men punching each other?" I raised my brow, tried not show him how I was smiling as he opened the door for me and I stepped carefully beneath the arch of his arm.

"Trust me... it'll be good... you'll definitely enjoy it, bodyguards guarantee..."

"You seem pretty confident..." I said turning back to look at him over my shoulder, unable to take my eyes off him when I saw his cheeky smile and the way it lit up his eyes. How even in this shadowy house he could lighten the way.

"Aye," he grinned, "I'm about to wipe the floor with your big brother after all..."

I gasped at that, hands covering my mouth as I tried to hold back my disbelieving laughter.

"You train with John?" It wasn't astounding I suppose, it was just that John seemed bulkier than Bonnie and it was hard to imagine my brother taking any kind of training seriously.

"No," chuckled Bonnie, "Johns a lazy bastard, usually train with me cousins, your Arthur's been teachin me some tricks... Sometimes I train with Isaiah but..." he trailed off, fingers tangling in the hair at the bottom of his neck, the dark curls scrunched in his half closed fist.

"But what?" I held back my smirk, I could tell he was holding back, trying to be polite.

"Nothing," he grinned sheepishly, "ignore me miss Gray, forgot who I was talking to for a moment there... Come on I'll show you the..."

"No," I stopped, reached out for his t-shirt to stop him too, "go on tell me what you were going to say!" I grinned, my smile wider than I realised, eyes lit up until he turned and caught my gaze. A shyness I couldn't understand sucker punching me the second his eyes met mine. And it shouldn't have, because he was smiling too and his eyes were lit just the same.

"There you go another Shelby, making your demands of me!" He grinned, teasing me and enjoying the sight of my blush, my mouth opening and then closing when I realised I was stuck for something to say. And suddenly it felt like there was an unbridgeable distance between us again, the space between us taking on that stiff quality which made me feel so self conscious and certain I was getting everything wrong.

"Please?" I winced, hoping it was enough, hoping to hold onto whatever light-hearted relief this could be.

And it was. But when he made to close the gap between us, his hand grasping mine to tug me through a door into a hallway which smelt a little musky, I felt that shyness grip me a little tighter. Because suddenly he was standing so close to me, my body hesitant between his and the wall. His hand cupped between his mouth and my ear. He had that laughing tone in his voice when he spoke, warm, cheekier than I was used to. It almost put me at ease and yet something had me struggling to keep track of my breath.

"Thing is these days," he started, "Isaiah's too worried about his face to fight hard..." He said, his low voice tickling my cheek, making me giggle, my hand over my mouth like a little girl as I looked up at him with wide eyes, in awe rather than scandalised.

Because Bonnie must have known he fell below Isaiah in the hierarchy, but he didn't seem all that bothered at having insulted him. In fact he seemed to find himself really rather funny and I couldn't deny that he was right. Still, I couldn't let him get away with the cocky little smirk he wore just then.

"I guess that makes sense..." I said softly, "can tell you're not worried about yours."

His smirk faltered then but only for a moment and I didn't feel bad. I knew he could see through me, knew he could see me smiling, could see the blush which had crept up on me at the thought of having to insult him.

"Aye lass," he grinned, "the bruises actually enhance my rugged good looks..." he teased, his hand flat to my lower back as he guided me away from the wall and pushed me a pace forward down the hallway, through the spa's locker room and into the gym I hadn't realised was there.

Once I was inside however I realised swiftly that this was much like any other of those rooms allegedly designed by Tommy with me and Sylvie in mind. Detailed. It was just a gym but I could tell it had been laboured over.

The wall of mirrors and the barre which ran parallel to it. The sprung wood flooring. The boxing ring almost seemed out of the place. The punch bags looked like an afterthought.

But it wasn't really the gym I was enamoured with just then. Because as stunning, if not surprising as it was, the effort which Tommy had gone to for his absent little sisters, it was difficult to focus on the spring in my footsteps as I stood on my tiptoes and then rolled back down, a little jump to test the give.

Difficult because upon entering the room Bonnie had seemingly forgotten all about me. His focus on the fight he was there to train for. And in his moment of forgetting he'd turned with his back to me and tugged his t-shirt over his head, the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he scrunched his shirt up in his first and discarded it.

He was looking at himself in the mirror, concentrating on wrapping his hands, head turned down slightly.

And I was stood still, a little bewildered by the way I felt then. The awkwardness, the blush burning my cheeks. He looked strong and when I thought back on what he'd said about my partner dropping me at school, I realised now why he'd been able to dismiss them so easily. There was no way Bonnie would have dropped me. No way he'd have noticed the weight of me in his arms at all.

"What dya reckon then lass, I was right wasn't I? You could practice your dancin to your heart's content in here no?" Asked Bonnie turning to look at me over his shoulder, bending down to pick up a towel from the bench where he'd just abandoned his t-shirt.

I struggled for a moment to say anything. Eyes still wide and unable to stray from his chest. His muscular shoulders. It wasn't like I hadn't seen him like this before and yet somehow today he really did have me speechless. That was until my brother stepped up behind me, his hands clamping down on my shoulders. His smirk in my ear making my cheeks burn red.

"Well lass? Ain't you gonna answer the poor lad, our Bonnie just asked you a question?"

AN// sorry if this is short and/or boring I feel like fuck all is happening atm but I promise it is going somewhere!!!!

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#trouble #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic

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