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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months

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A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.

#yandere #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #male yandere x gn reader #My ocs #My OC Cobi

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teamatsumu · 6 months

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CRUSH (ushijima wakatoshi x reader)

summary: wakatoshi has a crush.

word count: 720

warnings: fem!reader, its all just fluff

tags: @keiva1000

Ushijima knows he has fans. He might be simple-minded and a little oblivious, but he’s not stupid.

He knows girls stare at him from the balcony during practice. And he can hear their giggling when he passes them in the halls. Tendou often calls him Shiratorizawa’s Golden Boy, which Ushijima wholeheartedly disagrees with, but never voices out loud. Tendou often says strange things. He doesn’t mind.

Ushijima doesn��t understand his popularity. Sure, he is a good player. The best ace in the prefecture. But most of these girls have no understanding of volleyball. So why are they spending hours upon hours in the stands, watching him play?

“They’re not watching the match, Wakatoshi-kun. They are watching you.”

Hm. Strange. His play is very consistent. Watching him do the same thing over and over has to get boring, especially when they aren’t watching for the sake of the game.

But then he sees you for the first time.

You are in his third year English class. In his three years of high school, Ushijima is sure he has never seen you before. Because if he had, there was no way he would forget you.

He is curious. And a little enamored by you.

You are, by all means, a regular girl. You sit on the same chair every day, bring your own bento instead of eating from the cafeteria. It is always wrapped in a pretty multicolored patterned cloth, done up in a knot on top. You have a small stuffed cat chain on the zipper of your backpack. And you wear your hair differently every day. Some days it is tied up, some days it is let down. And some days it is half-up and half-down. You have one pink bunny hairclip that you wear maybe once every two or three days that Ushijima thinks is very cute. Your uniform is always immaculate.

There are so many tiny details about you that Ushijima has learned, and he finally understands why girls would stay hanging over the gym balcony to watch him for hours, because he could watch you for hours too.

You are very smart, he could tell. You always answer correctly when the teacher would call on you, and he has glimpsed at your notes. Simple, but neat and easy to understand, just the way he likes it. There are no crazy colors and highlighters, and your handwriting is neat and beautiful, just like the rest of you.

You are also quiet. You have a select group of friends that you talk to, and while you are nice to anyone who interacts with you, you don't go out of your way to stand out. Again, Ushijima loves that. It seems he loved everything about you. All the minor details that make you a little bit more unique to everyone else.

When you show up at his game, he nearly loses his focus.

It in’t an important game by any means, just a practice match with another local university team. So why are you here? Have your friends dragged you along? Or are you here by your own volition? Ushijima feels how sweaty his palms are when he clenches his fists, and it surprises him.

Is he….. nervous?

Why? Because you are watching? How ridiculous. Ushijima has never once doubted his own strength, or his ability to win. How could your presence alter that? The thought annoys him, and he is determined to prove that you being here would not be a hindrance to his play.

Turns out, he needn't have worried. It seems your presence had sharpened his senses more than ever. Shiratorizawa won in straight sets, and of the 50 points they scored, 39 had been from Ushijima’s hand.

“You were on fire today, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou comments as the final whistle rings. Ushijima unintentionally glances at you in the stands, cheering for the team. Cheering for him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he doesn’t think it is because of the game he had just played. He hears Tendou let out a dreamy sigh.

“Ah, the miracles of having a crush.”

He feels his lips tick up in a tiny smile as he throws a towel over his shoulders. Tendou is wrong. Ushijima doesn’t think he has a crush.

He thinks he is in love.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushijima wakatoshi x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima wakatoshi fanfiction #ushijima wakatoshi fic #ushijima x reader #hq ushijima #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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hoshifighting · 3 months

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Anklet Adorned

Preview: "You like that, don't you?" he says, his voice dripping with arrogance as he resumes his relentless pace. "You like it when I fuck you so hard that even your anklet can't stay quiet." he refers to the charms from the anklet he made for you, making little noises continuously synchronized with his thrusts.

Warnings: Smut, hard slutty smutty hard awesome sex, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, degradation, praising, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, fingering, messy sex, sloppy, chocking, crying, aftercare, doggy style and etc.

Word Count: 3.7k

This smut was created through a request, thank you anon, I LOVED writing this one! (click here to be sent to the request)

Joshua, with his deft fingers and boundless imagination, had a passion for crafting bracelets. Be it beads or strings, he could weave magic with his hands, creating intricate designs that sparkled with personality.

Every day, Joshua would surprise you with a new bracelet, each one a unique masterpiece that told a story. He'd fill you with joy as he slipped it onto your wrist, his eyes gleaming with pride and love. From vibrant colors to delicate patterns, each bracelet was a reflection of his affection for you.

What made Joshua's gesture even more endearing was his knack for matching the bracelets to your outfits. No matter how last-minute your wardrobe choices were, he always managed to craft a bracelet that perfectly complemented your look. His dedication and attention to detail never ceased to amaze you.

One Friday evening, as you curled up on the couch watching a movie, Joshua sat beside you, his fingers busy at work with his latest bracelet creation. You watched him intently, admiring his skill and dedication as he meticulously threaded beads together, lost in his own little world of creativity.

But then, just when you least expected it, Joshua leaned over and gently slipped something around your ankle. Startled, you looked down to see a delicate anklet adorned with an array of pretty charms dangling from it. Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected surprise.

"Surprise," Joshua whispered, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he admired his handiwork.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart. The anklet was exquisite, a perfect blend of elegance and whimsy, just like Joshua himself. Each charm seemed to hold a story of its own, and you couldn't wait to hear the tale behind this new creation.

Joshua adored the moments when your legs rested gently on his lap, your smooth skin inviting his touch. With tender affection, he would run his fingers along the length of your legs, reveling in the sensation of your warmth beneath his fingertips. But what captivated him most was the anklet adorning your ankle, its delicate charms dancing playfully against your skin.

As your legs lay draped across his lap, Joshua found himself mesmerized by the contrast of the anklet against your skin tone. The intricate charms seemed to come alive with each movement, casting dappled shadows across your legs as they swayed gently to the rhythm of your breathing.

"So, what do you want to do tonight, babe?" You ask.

"Hmm, I can think of a few ideas." Joshua trails his fingers along the curve of your thigh. "Well, we could keep watching this movie..." his hand ventures higher, teasingly brushing against the hem of your shorts, making you shiver at the touch, biting your lip.

"Or we could find something... more entertaining." you suggest, brushing your thighs together sensually, immediately capturing his attention.

A slow grin spreads across Joshua's lips as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs huskily, grabbing your thighs harder.

You find yourself lost in the moment, your breath catching in your throat as Joshua's lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue dances against yours, igniting a fiery passion that courses through your veins.

Before you realize it, Joshua is already on top of you, his weight pressing you into the soft cushions of the couch. With a gentle yet firm touch, he guides your legs to wrap around his waist, drawing you closer to him in a fervent embrace.

His hand finds its way to your throat, applying a slight pressure that sends shivers down your spine. It's a delicate balance of pleasure and restraint, a silent communication of lust between the two of you.

As you melt into his touch, surrendering yourself to the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours and his hand on your throat, you feel a surge of desire coursing through your body.

Desperately, your hands roam over the hems of Joshua's clothing, driven by a need to feel every inch of his skin against yours. With eager fingers, you fumble with buttons and zippers, determined to strip away any barrier between you and Joshua.

Joshua chuckles at your needy antics, his eyes alight with amusement and desire as he watches you. Sensing your urgency, he reaches behind him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

The sight of his toned torso, bathed in the soft glow of the room, steals your breath away. Muscles ripple beneath smooth skin, evidence of his strength and vitality. You drink in the sight hungrily, your heart racing with anticipation as you marvel at the beauty before you.

With a low grow, Joshua leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roam over your body, as he undresses you with skillful hands. Garment after garment falls away, discarded to the floor in a heap of forgotten fabric.

Lowering his head to meet your dripping pussy, until his gaze meets yours, Joshua captures the expression of excitement in your eyes. He latches his mouth onto your cunt, and you melt on the cushions.

As Joshua's warm mouth works its magic on your cunt, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you can't help but surrender to the sensations washing over you. With each flick of his tongue and gentle suckle on your clit, he brings you to the brink of ecstasy, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, you instinctively wrap your legs around his head, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the rapture of his touch. The charms of your anklet sway rhythmically against his back and he moans, as he feels the weight of your legs around him, Joshua's excitement grows, fueling his desire to please you even more. With a renewed sense of urgency, he redoubles his efforts.

His tongue slipped inside of your cunt, while he sucked you sloppy, you can feel the slick heat of your arousal dripping down your thighs.

As you feel the impending rush of your orgasm building to its peak, Joshua suddenly pulls his mouth away, leaving you panting and desperate for release. Your legs tremble around nothing, aching for the touch that was just tantalizingly close.

You whine in frustration, your body still thrumming with the echoes of pleasure, craving the exquisite release that eludes you. With a glistening chin and a cocky smirk, Joshua looks down at you, reveling in the sight of your desperate desire.

In moments like this, his softness gives way to a confident dominance, his cockiness taking charge as he watches you squirm and beg for more. He loves to see you in this state, your cries and pleads only fueling his desire to push you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, Joshua leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers words of encouragement and promises of pleasure yet to come.

"You're so close, aren't you, babe?"

"S-so close!" You protest, your voice tinged with need.

"That's the point," Joshua counters, his tone dripping with confidence. "I want to make you beg for it."

You groan, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing second. "Please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua's smirk widens, his gaze darkening with desire as he watches you squirm beneath him. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. "Beg for me."

You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please," you whisper again, your voice thick with desire. "I need you."

With a satisfied grin, Joshua leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss. "I know you do," he whispers huskily. "And I'm going to make you feel so good."

"Don't stop now Josh, please…"

Joshua's smirk widens, his confidence palpable as he revels in your neediness. "Oh, I won't stop, sweetheart," he murmurs, his tone dripping with promise. "Tell me how badly you want to come."

You swallow hard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and arousal at his command. "I want it so bad," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Joshua, I need to come."

"That's better," he says, his hand trailing teasingly along your thigh. "But not yet. I want to see you beg a little more."

You whine in frustration, but there's no denying the thrill that courses through you at his words. Despite the ache of desire that burns within you, you find yourself craving his dominance, eager to submit to his every whim.

With a wicked gleam in his eyes, Joshua leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss. "You're so beautiful when you beg, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "I could watch you squirm all night."

Joshua tilts his head, his gaze fixed on the globs of arousal dripping from you. There's a hunger in his eyes, with a slow, deliberate movement, he reaches out, his fingers trailing through the slick wetness between your folds. You shiver at his touch, a low moan escaping your lips as he explores your arousal with a confident, knowing touch.

"You're so wet for me…" Despite the embarrassment that floods your cheeks, there's no denying the raw, primal thrill that courses through you at the sight of Joshua's arousal.

With a confident smirk, he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from your ear. "You like it when I make you this wet, don't you?" he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You can't get enough of me, can you?"

As you lie there, too aroused to think, Joshua takes control with a firm yet gentle hand. With a deft movement, he turns you around, pressing your chest against the couch while raising your ass up for him to see. You whimper at the sudden change in position, your body trembling with anticipation and need.

"Look at you," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with desire and dominance. "All spread out for me like a good little slut."

His words cut through the haze of desire, sending a shiver down your spine as you feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal overwhelming your senses.

But even as you cry, you can't help but feel a sense of surrender wash over you, knowing that in this moment, Joshua's dominance is all-consuming. His soft degradation only serves to heighten your arousal, the delicate balance of pleasure and pain driving you to the edge of ecstasy.

As your tears wet the fabric of the couch beneath you, Joshua's expression softens, a hint of tenderness in his eyes as he coos at you. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice gentle against your ear. "Let it all out for me. You know I love it when you're so responsive."

As Joshua's tip teases your entrance, you can feel your core ache with longing, craving his touch with an intensity that consumes you. Every teasing brush against your slick folds sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening your arousal to dizzying heights.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your core fluttering in anticipation as you feel him slowly entering you. The sensation of him stretching you open, inch by delicious inch, is almost too much to bear, but you revel in the exquisite pleasure that courses through your veins.

With each slow, deliberate thrust, Joshua pushes deeper into you, his cock filling you completely as you cling to the couch beneath you, lost in a haze of ecstasy. Your walls clench around him, eager to be filled with every inch of his length as you surrender yourself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

As Joshua fills you completely, you're so tight around him that he can hardly move, every inch of his length enveloped by the delicious warmth of your core. Joshua almost loses himself in the sensation, his breath hitching at the sheer intensity of your grip. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy, a sight that only serves to fuel his desire further.

"You're so tight, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with awe and desire as he continues to move within you. "I can barely move... but I love it. I love how you grip me, how you take me so eagerly."

With a hard thrust, Joshua elicits a little sound from you, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he drives into you with unbridled force. But it's not just your reaction that catches his attention—it's the tinkling sound of the anklet adorning your ankle, its charms dancing. With each powerful thrust, the anklet chimes, a sweet melody that fills the room with the rhythm of your pleasure.

"Hmm, what's this?" Joshua muses, his cocky smirk widening as he hears the anklet chime with each of his powerful thrusts. "You like that, don't you?" he says, his voice dripping with arrogance as he resumes his relentless pace. "You like it when I fuck you so hard that even your anklet can't stay quiet."

You can only moan in response, your body writhing beneath him as he continues to slam into you, hitting your g'spot with precision each time. The combination of his cocky demeanor and the relentless stimulation has you teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your moans of pleasure growing louder with each passing moment.

As the knot tightens in your stomach, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax, Joshua senses the impending release building within you. With each thrust, he can feel the tension mounting, your body quivering with the promise of ecstasy.

He glances down, his eyes widening as he notices the telltale sign of your impending orgasm—a white ring forming at the base of his cock where it meets your slick heat. It's a visual confirmation of your impending release, a signal that drives him to push you even further towards the edge.

"I can feel you getting close, baby," Joshua murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he continues to pound into you. "I want you to come for me. I want to feel you clenching around me as you lose yourself in pleasure."

And then, with a guttural cry of release, it happens—the knot in your stomach unravels, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body. Your walls clench around Joshua's cock, milking him for all he's worth as you ride out the waves of your climax.

With a primal hunger still burning in his eyes, Joshua shifts positions, laying you gently on your back. You gasp as the change in position heightens your anticipation, your body tingling with excitement as you await his next move.

Licking three of his fingers, Joshua smirks down at you before slowly sinking them inside of you. The sensation is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you arch your back in response to the overwhelming sensitivity.

You moan softly as his fingers delve deeper, filling you completely and stretching you to your limits. The wet sounds of your arousal fill the air, mingling with the rhythmic swaying of the anklet adorning your ankle.

Your breath catches in your throat as Joshua curls all three of his fingers inside you, hitting just the right spot that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. With a high-pitched moan escaping your lips, you arch your back, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation that threatens to consume you.

Joshua smirks triumphantly, his eyes alight with satisfaction as he watches you writhe beneath him, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure. He knows exactly how to push all your buttons, how to drive you wild with need, and he revels in the power he holds over you in this moment.

With one final, powerful thrust of his fingers, Joshua abuses your g'spot relentlessly, driving you over the edge into an explosive climax. You scream in ecstasy as the overwhelming pleasure crashes over you, your body convulsing with the force of your release.

In an uncontrollable surge of pleasure, you squirt, your essence spraying out onto Joshua and the couch beneath you. The sensation is electrifying, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through every fiber of your being as you surrender yourself completely to the overwhelming bliss.

Joshua's eyes widen in surprise and delight as he feels you drenching him with your arousal. He revels in the feeling of your release, knowing that he's the one who pushed you to such dizzying heights of pleasure.

As Joshua feels the arousal surging through him at the sight of you squirting, a wicked idea forms in his mind. He can't help but wonder if you could do it again, this time around his cock. With a primal hunger burning in his eyes, he wastes no time in sliding his length inside you once more.

But as you feel him filling you effortlessly once again, you can't help but cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. "I-I can't take it," you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his size.

But Joshua is quick to reassure you, his voice soft but commanding. "Yes, you can, baby," he murmurs, his hands gentle yet firm as he guides you through the discomfort. "You can take it. Trust me."

Joshua's voice is a husky whisper as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good, baby," he murmurs, his words sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. "I can feel you stretching open for me again, taking me so eagerly."

Despite the mess of white cream coating your pussy, Joshua's cock throbs inside you, pulsing with desire as he continues to drive himself deeper into your clenching warmth. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensation.

With each movement, the tightness of your grip around him only serves to heighten Joshua's arousal, driving him to push you even further towards the edge of ecstasy. He revels in the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him, milking him for all he's worth as you both surrender yourselves completely to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

As the intensity of your pleasure peaks, your nails dig deliciously into Joshua's back, leaving marks of desire in their wake. His cock buried deep inside your cunt, you feel every inch of him pulsating with need, driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With each thrust, the anklet around your ankle sounds ever louder, a symphony of pleasure that fills the room as you ride the waves of your climax. Joshua can only moan in response, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he feels you tightening around him, your walls gripping him with a desperate hunger.

Feeling the spray of your arousal drenching him and the couch beneath you, Joshua's cock throbs with anticipation, the sensation only serving to heighten his arousal. He can't help but groan in pleasure as he feels you cumming around him again.

Your throat is already sore from the screams of ecstasy that have torn from your lips, your hair clinging to your face in sweaty tendrils as you ride out the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

With a guttural groan, Joshua releases himself inside of you, his hot seed filling you completely and adding to the mess already coating your pussy. The sensation of him pulsating within you sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body, driving you to the brink of oblivion once more, your vision turning completely black.

As your vision slowly returns, you find yourself enveloped in soft covers, the lingering haze of pleasure still clouding your mind. Confusion washes over you as you take in your surroundings, realizing that you're now clean and showered, the evidence of your passionate encounter with Joshua washed away.

Just as you begin to wonder how it all happened, Joshua appears suddenly in the doorway of the bedroom, a cloth draped casually over his shoulder. His eyes light up with a warm smile as he takes in the sight of you, peaceful and serene in the aftermath of sex.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he says with a gentle smile, crossing the room to sit beside you on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

You blink up at him, still trying to process everything that happened. "I... I don't know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "What happened? How did I get here?"

Joshua's smile widens as he reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "I took care of you," he explains softly. "After... everything that happened, I wanted to make sure you were okay. So I cleaned you up, gave you a shower, and tucked you into bed."

You smile gratefully at Joshua, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at his tender care. "Thank you for taking care of me," you say softly, your voice filled with appreciation.

Joshua returns your smile, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Of course, baby," he replies, his voice gentle. "I'll always be here for you."

Then, he adds with a chuckle, "Oh, and I took care of the couch too. It's all clean now."

Your smile falters for a moment as you gasp, a wave of mortification washing over you as you realize what he's referring to. For a moment, you had forgotten about the mess you made on the couch in the heat of passion.

"Oh no," you exclaim, feeling embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot..."

You feel a rush of relief flood through you as Joshua cuts you off with a reassuring smile, his warm hand squeezing yours gently. "It's all okay," he reassures you, his voice filled with understanding and love.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling grateful for his understanding and support. "Thank you," you murmur, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you relax into his comforting embrace.

But then, Joshua's words catch you off guard, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment as he adds, "And you know what?" he adds, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You looked so hot while you squirted."

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fqntasies · 10 days

Text

Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

--------------------------------

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #austin butler #feyd #reader insert #reader #fanfiction #fanfic #the bald man has me in a chokehold #i love when powerful men are desperate for their soft ladies

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peachsayshi · 1 month

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I have an a request!!! What about boy dad gojo taking care of his son while his s/o is sick? Maybe he takes him to work and face time her with his son when he has a break or between classes?? And his son misses her a lot cause it’s his first time seeing her sick🥹

➳ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni ➳ tags: fluff; dad gojo and son reader

"mama! wanna talk to mama!"

"easy, tiger," satoru consoles, using his long arm to pull the phone away from his son's grabbing fingers.

"dada, wanna talk to mama!" his son insists, inching his body forward which prompts satoru to adjust his legs so his boy doesn't climb off his thighs. using his other hand, the sorcerer lightly runs his fingers through his child's soft locks to calm down his excitement while and in the meantime taps away at the screen to video call you.

"there you go," he whispers as he brings the phone to his son's line of sight, his heart swelling when you finally answer the call.

"hi," you croak softly, your voice thick and hoarse while you rub your tired eyes. "what time is it?"

"it's lunch-"

"mama!" your son interrupts, his small hands curling over satoru's fingers as he holds both sides of the screen. "mama, miss you!"

"hey, cutie", you reply with a tiny smile, but satoru can see the exhaustion weighing heavy on your face. "miss you soo much,"

you've been sick for the last four days. a terrible cold that's kept you bedridden. satoru and your son have been isolating to make sure that they don't catch what you have, but your boys have been wallowing without you around. your son has been extra needy and keeps bringing up his "mama" every chance he can get. satoru is in the same position as well, hating that he can't cuddle up to you in the middle of the night, or that he can't wake up to your good morning kisses.

"mama sick," your son says with a furrow of his brows, moving his hand over the screen like he's trying to touch your face. "mama get better ok?"

he's still learning his words, trying to form whatever sentences he can with the vocabulary that he has.

you nod your head, "yeah, baby, I'll be better soon,"

your son smiles at the camera, his eyes twinkling with delight. "kisses!" he announces, before leaning forward and pressing his lips onto the phone screen.

you blow him back three kisses in return.

at this point satoru can't help but feel a little left out, so he arches forward to rest his chin on his son's shoulder, the two of them now centering the screen.

it's wild seeing them both together because they really do look like twins. your son's hair stands as a harsh contrast because it is identical to yours, but his eyes are a blend of your love. there's an icy blue that pierces through his natural color on the left side, a unique trait that distinguishes him entirely.

"can I get some kisses too?" satoru pouts at the camera, and your son obliges but placing one kiss on his cheek.

satoru can't help but grin, "thanks, rugrat, but I was hoping the kisses would come from your mama..."

"but mama sick," your son answers nonchalantly, twisting his body slightly so he was turning toward's his father's instead.

"she just blew you some kisses," he answers back with a raised brow. "I can't get any?"

your son blatantly shakes his head no.

satoru deadpans at the phone screen, and you have to use the blanket to cover your amused grin but you clear your throat as a cough escapes you, and satoru can't help but wince.

"how are you feeling? is the medicine helping at all?" he adds.

"yeah, it is. I'm feeling much better today actually."

"there's a pot of soup in the fridge " he continues, his cheeks tinting a slight shade of pink. "I made it last night"

satoru toiling away in the kitchen is a rare sight. the man grew up spoiled, and rarely ever had to take care of himself. you're the only person who knows that the first time he ever touched a stove was in his late teens, with shoko and suguru assisting in teaching him. he doesn't experiment much, but he was able to perfect a handful of recipes over time.

your eyes widen, glisten with absolute love. "thanks, handsome. I'll be sure to heat some up..."

"just want to see you back on your feet, angel," satoru murmurs, and presses his cheek against' the plush surface of his son's. "you've got us pining over here, isn't that right?"

your son nods his head, bringing one hand to hold his father's jaw. "sick bad, want mama t'get better now..." he acknowledges.

(meanwhile, you sneakily take a screenshot of the two of them in frame)

requests are open for dad gojo.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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oncomingnight · 9 months

Text

ೄྀ࿐DO YOU ENJOY WHAT YOU DO?

yandere! 80's male pop duo x reader

Dimitris and Seth have been the best of friends since they were young school boys. The two of them would regularly perform little 'concerts' in the others garage, practically torturing the neighbors with the shrilling noise of sticks hitting tin cans. The only thing they ever wanted to truly accomplish in life was to be able to make music with each other. As they grew older and experimented with their sound, their harmonious and incredibly danceable music immediately sky rocketed in terms of success. Fans were constantly fainting and waving their arms around when they attended one of their concerts, it was a common occurrence for at least five undergarments to be thrown onto stage during a show of theirs.

They each had their own unique look that attracted dozens of people. Seth had his tanned skin, dark brown fluffed out hair with a caramel colored streak going right through it, the beauty mark right under his eye, his droopy brown eyes and the gold hoops hanging from his ears. Dimitris had his short silky black hair, umber skin that became dewy under the sun, his thick Tunisian accent, the dimples that appeared on his face even at the slightest hint of a grin and his naturally heavy lashes.

The both of them will join forces in writing and producing music based on their intense love and devotion towards you. Several of the songs would be accompanied with hyper beats and catchy ad libs, others would be paired with voices filled with desperation and pure agony along with an emotion rendition of their piano. The second option perfectly depicts their never-ending affection towards you, they love you so much that they're willing to cause terror to anyone who opposes their behaviour.

Even if they were to potentially be caught for their rage-filled actions, nothing would ever come from it. Everyone would suspect that some 'rando' trying to make for themselves planted the evidence against Dimitris and Seth. The two of them are loved internationally by the young and old, they're the most likely to be deemed as honest and trust-worthy than some random people accusing them of actions that they would never commit.

"Even if they did actually do all that, maybe those creeps deserved it." "Yeah, they're total barf bags."

Neither of them fit the stereotypical '80's rockstar' persona because they didn't necessarily write rock'n'roll music but that was how their music was categorized at times, and, they don't have sex with random women, or more so, groupies. Neither do they write songs with hidden racist meanings as some of the other people in the same career path as them do.

The both of them absolutely believe that you deserve nothing but the best, they do everything in their will power to prove this to you, as well. They go all out when it comes to certain holidays, birthdays and anniversaries. On the day of your birthday, you'll wake up to the house filled to the brim with roses in vases, gifts sent by highly regarded celebrities along with fashion and makeup brands, notes that the two men wrote in admiration for you, a scheduled party at a nearby chateau and immediate tenderness from the both of them as soon as they see you stir awake.

Dimitris and Seth take immense joy in spoiling you with everything and anything you could ever want. With the way the two of them present themselves to the world, it's no surprise to anyone when they find out that the both of them enjoy dolling you up.

and they do an amazing job at it.

Seth will match your shoes to the chosen dress he'd purchased just for you at an antique market, applying your choice of powdered make-up to your face, clasping a diamond necklace around your neck and kissing your lips when he's finally finished. Then, when the cold night finally arrives, he'll wipe and wash your face, massage your scalp along with your body as the two of you sit in a warm bath he'd drawn. After washing your face with a light blue 'Pré de Provence' soap bar, he'll gently pat your cheeks, lean in to kiss your forehead before saying,

"My beautiful baby, aren't you just perfect? Say it, tell me you're perfect."

Dimitris adores taking you out to taste several different sweet and savory meals that you aren't even able to pronounce. As the two of you sit in a dimly lit restaurant, paparazzi are taking photographs of him looking at you with a severely love-drunk facial expression. A magazine with the headline, "Dimitris and his shared lover, newly head over heels fool!"

You always tag along with them when they go on tour, no matter what, you're going! If you don't work from home and your schedule is the issue, they'll just bribe your boss with some harmless money

just kidding! They don't want you working outside of your shared five bedroom home in Hollywood, California. They'll never hold you hostage in your own home, are you...crazy? They honestly don't want to even think about you struggling with money and there's nothing more that they'd love to do than take care of you.

Seth will take you to meet his father on the sea-side villa he grew up in. The pleasant aroma of bamia and feteer meshaltet fill your nostrils and the thought of eating the prepped dishes makes you smile. His father offers up a warm and welcoming smile as he listens to you speak about your interests and what had drawn you to his son. He immediately finds your presence calming and wishes for you to visit him once more alongside his son. Even his father's dog, Neo, seems to like you as he sits on your lap whilst you're on the couch and speaking with Seth.

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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love is blind II l.williamson x reader

based around this request here but changed it up a little! love is blind II l.williamson x reader

entering the stadium and making your way down court side your eyes lit up in wonder, raking the thousands of cheering fans clad in their favorite teams colors, chatter bouncing off the walls backed by the upbeat pump of the music in the background as both teams warmed up for the game.

you'd been in new york working for six months now, subletting a room from one of your childhood pen pals which had somehow stood the tests of time, a unique friendship you treasured dearly even if she was an absolute hurricane on her best days.

working as a freelance photographer had lead you to live a colorful life to say the least. you'd been travelling the world from the moment you'd decided to drop out of your rational business degree, deciding much to your parents worry that sort of career just wasn't for you.

but though you'd hopped from one city to the next you'd never really existed in one place long enough to set down solid roots as a large part of your heart always remained back home with your loved ones.

photography far from the most steady income flow it would be an understatement to say at times your situation had been stretched, and you'd learned to become quite the adaptable and creative chef when living from dollar to dollar in some remote corners of the worlds.

but new york had been providing job after job, an endless list of up and coming talents forever wanting headshots, subbing in last minutes as an assitant on shoots for the experience and even shooting for a few magazines along the way had kept you here longer than intended.

but as you grew older and your family expanded, a whole horde of nieces and nephews you hardly saw compiling back home, you found your heart for once longing to settle, to find a reason to set down some roots and maybe a full time job to go with it.

but for now your brother had somehow swung you these courtside tickets for you and your roommate, though with a raging hangover she'd refused to leave the bed, only returning home around nine this morning in a different dress she'd left home in and without shoes you'd known from that very moment you'd likely be venturing to the game tonight alone.

but well traveled on your own that wasn't anything that scared you, you were anyone but someone who dismissed a new experience even if it was a solo one.

which is exactly how you found yourself subtly counting the seats as you made your way down the very front row, making a mental note to smack your brother the next time you saw him for how much he'd likely splashed on these seats which were an early birthday present.

finally finding your seat you were surprised to find it already occupied, a blonde head of hair in jorts and a white button up lazing about comfortably with a drink in her hand.

even without speaking a word you could sense the strong personality oozing from her, loud laughter echoing about as she conversed with a couple of men in the row behind her, an aura of confidence hanging in the air which had your stomach twisting at needing to interrupt her.

"hi i'm so sorry but i think you're in my seat." leah glanced up at the new voice breaking away from her conversation she was previously occupied in, breath catching at the eyes she found herself looking up into.

"i'm 7a, sorry." you winced showing her your ticket on your phone, never having been one for confrontation but the court side seats had been a gift and if the sender didn't see you utilizing them on the tv you'd be getting your ear chewed off without a doubt.

"oh shit no i'm sorry! i didn't even think to check the number i just sat down in the right row." leah apologized sincerely glancing around for jason who had her ticket and lanyard still in his pocket, finding him on the other side of the court taking photos with a group of players.

the seat next to her free leah shuffled over one, allowing you to take your seat as you placed your bag under you and crossed one leg over the other.

"i'm leah." the blonde introduced herself with a smile as you settled a little seeing she wasn't upset like you'd feared but rather seeming quite friendly.

introducing yourself you shook her hand with a laugh as she stuck it out toward you. "how very formal of you." you teased, surprisingly at ease with the english woman finding comfort in the familiar accent in the vast sea of americans you'd been swimming in these last few months.

"well you'd know first and foremost how charming the english are. thought you might want a taste of home! which would be..." leah trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

"i was brought up not to share my home address with strangers. weren't you taught about stranger danger as a child!" you smiled playfully as leah turned herself a little more to face you.

"leah williamson. england captain, european champion, newly appointed basketball fan, first time in new york. i have a younger brother, my grandma is my best mate and i kick a ball round for a living. i spoke at the united nations earlier today and i'm drinking away the nerves i said something terrible because i practically blacked out and can't remember anything!" leah held her drink up in a silent cheers, downing the rest of what appeared to be a gin and tonic with a wink.

"go on stranger, your turn." the blonde encouraged with a flick of her hand as you smiled, finally clocking where she looked familiar. you weren't a massive sports fan, which was ironic given your current location, but you'd have to be completely blind not to recognize the captain of the lionesses after their huge euros win.

"freelance photographer and business school drop out, lived in this fine urban jungle in a shoebox for about six months now. sorry to hit your ego miss euros but i've never sat through a single football match without falling asleep! my dog is my best friend and i'm the youngest of six, the final perfect creation one might say." you grinned, leah rolling her eyes playfully.

"a humble one too it would seem. now look! no longer strangers are we? thank god danger averted." the blonde exhaled wiping at her brow in mock relief before bumping her knee into yours with a grin.

as the announcer started to call out the lineups and the crowd erupted in volume leah shuffled just a tiny bit closer and leant in so she could continue to talk to you, basketball now really the last thing on her mind.

by the final buzzer you couldn't care less who'd won or lost having spent almost the entire game chattering away to leah who seemed more than content to fill in the gaps of your sports knowledge, taking any opportunity she could to slip in a teasing remark about your lack thereof.

"well leah it was lovely to spend some time with such a charming brit! even if you are from milton keynes." you sent leah a dazzling smile and a wink which flipped her stomach, the blonde waving off jason who tried to capture her attention on her other side.

"you may not share my bursting pride and joy for the greatest place on gods green earth but without my ongoing commentary and extensive sports knowledge i'm sure you'd have been bored out of your mind. and now you can tell your brother you sat court side and share his appreciation of this fine game!" leah grinned back, fingers drumming against the lip of her cup.

"mm and imagine his shock when i tell him it was all thanks to an arsenal player, i'll be disowned mind you!" you smacked her knee with a roll of her eyes only causing her grin to widen.

"god i almost forgot you come from a chelsea loving family, disgraceful behaviour that mate." leah grimaced with visible disgust, covering her mouth as she spoke the c word making you laugh and smack her knee again, your hand lingering there for a moment.

as you pulled away leah found herself missing the touch, trying to shake herself out of it and putting it down to the alcohol buzzing through her head.

"i should really get going i'm meeting someone for dinner, but it was lovely sitting and speaking with you." you started sincerely, standing to your feet as leah did the same.

"me too, it was a pleasure to provide you with an in depth basketball crash course." leah joked as you laughed, the sound sending a strange feeling coursing through her stomach.

"i really would have been bored out of my mind without you here, enjoy the rest of your trip. i'll be sure to look out for your UN speech online i'm sure you smashed it!" leahs cheek flushed pink as you leant in and pressed a soft kiss to it, sending her a kind smile and before she could utter another single syllable you were gone.

"beth! i am telling you she's a no show. i've waited here for thirty minutes man i'm not wasting the rest of my night!" leah huffed, whisper yelling down the phone to her supposed expert match making friend, slumping down further in her seat.

meanwhile on the opposite side of the restaurant your eyebrows furrowed as you sent your tinder date yet another message which was left on delivered, rolling your eyes and locking your phone with a defeated huff.

"yeah? well your friends name must be casper." leah rolled her eyes unimpressed with beths attempts to make excuse for the mystery woman she'd insisted on setting leah up with, an old family friend who'd lived in new york the last few years who leah just had to meet.

"christ beth i know thats not her name for fuck sakes. i meant because it would appear she's a ghost you numpty!" leah groaned, flashing an apologetic smile toward the couple the table over who gave her an odd look.

"no she's a no show of course just my luck. are you still up for a drink? i can meet you literally anywhere that isn't here. see i told you tinder wasn't for me!" you sighed over the phone, abandoning your half finished drink and grabbing your bag off the counter.

"no i am not going to give it a few more minutes mccabe. now beth call your mate and tell her to lose my number, i told the two of you a blind date was an awful idea but did you listen? no!" leah sternly told off the women on the other end of the phone before hanging up with a frustrated huff and declining the incoming call which followed.

standing from her chair the defender sent the waitress an awkward smile who'd been sending her pitiful glances from the moment she sat down alone at the table clearly set for two.

"oh you're already out? yeah send me the address and i'll get a taxi to soho, and i will be deleting tinder on my way over!" you warned, wincing a little as your friend returned inside and you could clearly hear the music blasting in the background of wherever she was.

not having ordered anything bar a drink she'd already paid for leah bypassed the hostess as she made a hurried beeline for the exit. but too focused on not being seen by the prying woman she knew would ask questions, leah didn't watch where she was walking and suddenly her body collided with another as she stepped outside.

"christ! do you not have eyes?" that voice.

leah sat up from her place on the floor as you did the same, angry features softening at the familar face staring back at you guiltily. "i do in fact have eyes, just forget to use them sometimes." leah winced with a sheepish smile as your own lips curled up in amusement.

"i thought athletes were supposed to be coordinated." you mocked as she hurried to her feet and offered you her hands which you took gratefully, the taller girl hauling you up and steadying you as you nearly slipped again.

"whats whitney houstons favorite form of coordination?" leah blurted out randomly as you gave her a curious look. "hand eyee!" leah sung, loudly, proudly and a little off key as you couldn't help but burst out with a surprised laugh, leahs face lighting up at the sound.

"you really are the perfect combination of charming and strange." you teased, the two of you making your way down the steps out front of the restaurant. "well the world would be incredibly dull if everyone was ill mannered and normal now wouldn't it?" leah countered with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"so your dinner-" "after the game i-"

you both blushed slightly in the crisp autumn evening as you spoke at the same time. "your dinner, that was fast. is this a normal new york dine and dash?" leah smiled, the two of you starting to walk aimlessly down the street.

"well normally when you meet someone for dinner they show up, so more of a dash without the dine!" you admitted with an annoyed huff, phone still clear of any notifications from your so called date.

"if it makes you feel any better you're singin to the choir. normally when you're set up on a blind date the date in question shows up." leah countered with an empathetic smile as you frowned, unable to understand how the tall charming admittedly quite gorgeous blonde in front of you could have possibly been stood up.

it wasn't as if you hadn't noticed her beauty at the game, but you were far too busy being swept up by her witty one liners, passionate commentary, teasing remarks and sharp sense of humor to really focus all too much on the physicality of it all.

but now you were you found yourself rather enamored with and maybe starting to harbor a slightly juvenile crush on the tall footballer walking by your side.

"dates huh? the worst part of being single." you sighed with an understanding shake of your head, leah humming her agreement and jolting as you suddenly stopped in your tracks. "where are we actually going?" you asked with a laugh, realizing the two of you were truly just wandering without a destination.

"how about for a drink? normally when i try to sweep a girl off her feet thats how i'd start to go about it, not actually taking her down off her feet." leah quipped with a charming smile, pearly white teeth flashing at you cheekily.

"well its the least you can do, think i might have uh tore a quad or a hammy maybe on that fall? oh ref! ref! book her for it!" you faked an injury, bending down to grab at your leg as leah withheld the urge to smile and shook her head at you.

"very funny. you know we could get you on the pitch with diving skills like that! not for arsenal though, we frown upon that sort of reckless, illegitimate and downright unprofessional behavior." leah puffed her chest out with a wave of her hand as you shoved her playfully.

"you know i could get you some acting classes as a gift if you'd like? after all we're only a few streets away from broadway. might win the league with some polished poor tackles, grunts of pain and strategic pens." you teased, leah scoffing at your words.

"well firstly i am utterly offended at that. but secretly i'm quite proud you retained that much football lingo in only a couple of hours, by the time i'm done with you you'll be wearing red, chanting my name and screaming north london forever!" leah smirked, stepping closer to you with a twinkle in her eye.

"and by the time i'm done with you football might just be the very last thing on your mind." you quipped back with a flirty smile, the burst of sudden confidence catching leah a little off guard as she tilted her head, looking down at you as you caught her gaze flicker toward your lips which curled up victoriously.

"so, about that drink?" "i think i know a place."

"-and you're sure about this? i don't want you to feel rushed baby." you frowned down at your girlfriend, absentmindedly playing with her hair as her head lay in your lap.

"never been more certain my girl. as much as i love having you all to myself with the move back now i'd love to have you finally meet the girls." leah assured, reaching a hand up to squish your cheeks with a soft smile.

it was safe to say that night in new york and the promise of one drink had wound up as many more with leah stumbling into your shoebox of an apartment with your hand over her mouth desperately trying to stiffle the drunken giggles she couldn't seem to hold back as to not wake your roommate.

it didn't work, your roommate leaping out of the shadows with a baseball bat scaring the two of you half to death as leah pushed you behind her and chucked her fists up, barely able to stand on her own feet as she swayed to and fro.

quickly ushering leah to your bedroom you guiltily sent your friend a smile and promised to explain in the morning, the girl sending you a knowing look of amusement and a hum before retreating back to her own bed.

that night you and leah stayed up talking for hours and hours about everything and nothing, your hand consistently smacking over her mouth as she was unable to control the volume of her boisterous laugh, her tongue licking your palm each time making you squeal and slap her before she'd use the moment to steal a kiss with a cheeky grin.

beyond a few lazy drunken kisses not much more happened, leah waking up still a little tipsy only mere hours later with her phone filled with missed calls and a pounding headache.

feeling her stir and shuffle around looking for her phone you'd woken not long afterward, an anxiety that she was going to leave without another word simmering at the surface of your partially conscious state as she slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

disappointment flooded you momentarily before you shook it off best you could, reminding that one night stands were more than normal and just because you weren't accustomed to them didn't mean leah owed you anything more.

but to your surprise she returned quickly having sent the messages she needed to in order to free up her day, sliding back into bed with you with a smile and a tired sigh.

"good morning." the blonde rasped out, voice cracked and clearly struggling as you offered her the bottle of water from your nightstand which she accepted gratefully.

an old t-shirt of yours hanging off of her taller form it amused you the way it almost looked like a crop top with the height difference, a gentle teasing remark about it falling from your lips as leah playfully flicked your nose and laid back down.

her arms wrapping around you was a foreign yet comforting feeling, a sense of safety that was unknown to you encompassing where you both lay beneath the duvet tangled up together, not another word uttered as within a few minutes you felt her grip relax slightly and her breathing even out.

sleeping away most of the day you'd later asked her out to dinner with the promise of helping her refuel the energy you'd stole from her with the two of you talking well into the early morning, leah eagerly agreeing.

parting after dinner with a lengthy kiss you'd exchanged numbers with a sense of uncertainty of where this could go, leah flying back to london the following morning and you with jobs lined up for the following month.

but with both of you clearly curious and seemingly eager, messages turned into calls which grew to facetimes, and suddenly leah was jetting over to visit you for a few days and you were secretly sneaking off to london to see her, hiding from your family the knowledge you were back.

on the third time you'd met up again leah laid it out for you, admitting she wasn't one for a long distance relationship and hadn't expected to fall for you the way she had, but with the two of you rapidly growing feelings which seemed to be reciprocated you agreed to give it a go.

two months down together and you'd made the decision to return permanently back to england. promising leah over and over it wasn't solely for her and you already had some work lined up, as well as informing of the fact your mum was a few days away from putting your face on a milk carton claiming her daughter had been missing in action for far too long.

you'd intended to get your own place but staying with leah for the first couple of weeks while you looked around the two of you fell into a routine. then out for dinner one night the blonde had offered you a key and asked if you'd move in for good, and with her ever dazzling smile reeling you in how could you say no.

the two of you had kept your blossoming relationship quite quiet, really only meeting one anothers immediate family once you were ready and staying wrapped up in your little love bubble the last few weeks.

the honeymoon phase as leahs mum amanda had dubbed it with an amused smile, only seemed to grow as you and leah finally embraced being able to be together in the way you'd both craved from the very first moment she'd asked you to be her girlfriend.

you'd been having the ongoing conversation the last few days about starting to meet one anothers friends, that seeming the next step in your relationship which was what lead to the current conversation.

true to leahs words that very first night you met, she'd had her way and every weekend now had you bundled in her jersey and sat with her family watching her play, chanting along and proudly singing the angel before every match.

you'd obviously met a few of her close friends and teammates before, hardly able to hide the fact you were living together, but not officially as leahs girlfriend and most nights she had her own friends over you'd be out catching up with your own.

"i really want you to come out after the game and meet all the girls as my girl, officially." leah promised, interlacing her fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to her mouth, kissing softly as you melted like putty in her hands.

"my pretty pretty lovely gorgeous girl." leah pushed herself to sit up, now hovering over you as her lips ghosted yours and she pulled away with a smirk as you chased them for a kiss, pouting when you didn't get your way.

"so needy." leah teased with a smile as you pinched her for the comment and captured her lips in a kiss, sighing happily as her mouth moved against yours perfectly, butterflies erupting and head spinning as it did every time leah was in your immediate vicinity.

"so. you'll come out tonight then?" leah pulled away and asked hopefully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pecking your lips a few times.

"mmm haven't decided yet baby, might need a few more of these to really seal the deal." you stroked your chin thoughtfully before tapping your lips with a smile and a wiggle of your eyebrows making your girlfriend hide a laugh.

"cheeky girl. well baby i guess i can accommodate these heinous demands!" leah sighed dramatically with a roll of her eyes, leaning back in and pressing her lips to yours with a smile.

"how are you feeling gorgous?" leah questioned softly as she parked the car, flicking off the engine and glancing toward you sat in the passenger seat. "nervous." you answered honestly as her hand sat on your thigh squeezed gently.

"i understand my love but i promise the girls are so excited to finally meet you, and i've never met someone as easy to get along with as you. they're all gonna love you and i'm gonna have to fight them for your attention all night!" leah pouted making you crack a smile.

"well you know i'm going home with you at the end of the night babe, and we both know once you have a couple drinks you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself anyway." you teased, leaning over the console to bridge the gap and press your lips to hers.

a few more sweet assurances and kisses later and you were walking into the bar where the girls and some of their loved ones were, leah taking your hand once you were inside and leading you down the back to where they all were, having booked it out for some privacy for them all post game.

a symphony of cheers sounding as the pair of you arrived you felt yourself become a little flustered as suddenly you were rushed by a small crowd of girls who leah shooed away.

instead taking you around to everyone one by one and introducing you, her hand never leaving your waist the entire time as her thumb traced gentle circles into your hip.

finally rounding to the final little group, most of whom you'd met in passing once or twice but again never officially as leahs girlfriend like she announced you now, the title still giving you the warm and fuzzies as you were pulled into a few hugs.

leah stopped the introductions for a moment when her eyes fell on an unfamiliar girl, beth quickly taking over and introducing her friend with an unreadable look flashed leahs way.

leah quickly realized why she was unfamiliar, this was beths friend from new york who to be fair beth had been discussing coming to visit her at training for the last few weeks but leah had only half tuned in, mind as always wandering to you most times it wasn't occupied by football.

hearing the name your chest tightened as you were now able to put two and two together, a gentle squeeze of leahs arm around your waist all you needed to settle again.

"i'm really sorry about what happened, i wasn't in the right space for dates but it was a dick move to just ghost you." the girl addressed leah with a wince who waved it off.

"don't be, if you hadn't we'd never have wound up together." leah was surprised to hear you speak up as your arm hugged her torso and you sent the girl a smile, leahs own lips curling into amusement as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"you two are adorable, i'm really glad things worked out an you found one another." the girl spoke sincerely and gave the pair of you a slightly awkward smile before she stepped away.

"sorry." beth winced guiltily at the defender before pulling you into another hug and warning leah she'd be stealing you a little later as your girlfriend pulled your back into her front protectively with a playful glare.

"i think...is that, you're looking a bit green babe? maybe with envy?" leahs hands fell either side of your face as she looked you over and you smacked her chest withholding a smile.

"you know its quite hot when you get a little possessive baby girl." leah gave you a wolfish grin. "well i only take after you my love, jealousy should be your middle name. need i bring up last weekend for example?" you smiled knowingly, fingers tracing her collarbone.

"he was all over you! i had every right." leah scowled instantly at the mention of the incident which had her dragging you away from a party you'd attended together for one of your siblings birthdays, leah spending the entire night afterwards showing you just how much you really were hers, worshiping your body for hours on end in every which way.

"you doin alright though babe?" leah murmured seriously, taking you aside into a more secluded corner as her eyes roamed over your face for any sign of discomfort.

"i'm good. might need a little help with everyones names for the first couple of hours but i'm good i promise, i'm glad we're finally doing this baby. i love you!" you puckered your lips as leah grinned and gave you what you want, echoing those three words back in between.

lost in the feeling of leahs lips on yours you didn't realise you'd gathered an audience, most of the girls watching on happily seeing how loved up the two of you were, others whispering teasing remarks about the blonde and just how smitten she was.

"oi lovebirds! your turn at pool, you can lock lips after we've kicked your asses."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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bunji-enthusiast · 2 months

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ahhhhh, im.not the one who requested it buy I love the oneshot about catnap with the child he took care of after the hour of joy because of the kitty thing. Even though I'm not the one who requested it, is it possible I can request something in the same premise of it. Where catnap after taking care of the child for a long time is starting to run out of the food reserves the factory had, and he has to find other ways to feed them. Through feeding them like how he feeds the smiling critters in the playhouse on "meat" from you know who, or forcing the child to leave so they have a chance to find food. But catnap being catnap wants to keep her there despite so decides on the first choice, even though he had let the child get attached to dogday.

(I'm sorry this may show up on your ask box twice I ment to not send this anonymously but I did by accident so I wanted to correct that, anyways thank you for your absolutely amazing writing remember to take breaks when you need to and stay amazing❤️)

Seeker

Note || awe, no worries. Happy to see you in!

WC || 1,034

Sypnosis || emotions are scarce, food is too. It seems factory is getting to everyone, CatNap is left with unprecedented levels of risks.

The conditions of the environment were no doubt not very liveable ones, so he had tried his best to adapt to the conditions so that you may be able to live in his room comfortably or even walk anywhere else in Playcare. Even beyond the whole place in any case, he just wasn’t sure what to do anymore. CatNap was at an odds end within himself at deciding what to do, what would be best for you.

Should he force you to leave the factory in hopes you find food? No, you’d just get lost and scared, no doubt manhandled by an incompetent people that may pass you by in the process. You were just a kid, lonely and in need of companionship and being surrounded by people you could truly trust.

Though the colorful disposition and creepy toys in this place far proved the idea he needed to keep you safer more often. Knowing that you may as well get attached to some of the other toys you come across, CatNap was admittedly worried.

You were often inquisitive, curious to find everything your attention was captured by. That wasn’t of any good in his honest opinion, but he had to remain with a steady and cool head. So that when it may be, he can take care of you more properly.

CatNap didn’t want you to leave, he had become far too accustomed to your presence. Hearing your joyful laughs and giggles, staying so hopeful and strong in your own unique way. You certainly brought on a joyful aspect to his lonely life, even with all the others he had punished for being heretics.

DogDay, oh yes, he had to take some chunks from him. That was the last thing he wanted to do with all that has been said and done. But he truly had no other option, but his worst thought being as how you began to get attached to DogDay.

In retrospect however, he will admit that you can be cute and quite charming for just being a child at most.

“Mr…” You began, the crayon stilling to a stop. DogDay perked his head up, though the effort to move is indeed extraneous on his war-torn body (both literally and figuratively). “Hm, sweetheart?” He spoke out, his voice spooking you a little bit as he hadn’t spoken very often. You didn’t expect him to actually answer you or at all for that matter, but DogDay seemed kind to you. You wanted to get to know him at least, but to him, he was slight afraid – on your behalf, you didn’t know better on a lot of things. Especially the vying point is how his legs had been taken from him, most of it being fed to the smaller toy versions of the smiling critters and you too. Did you even know what you were eating?

You hesitantly stood up, leaving your paper and crayon to abandon. “Why are you chained up like that?” You asked with a tinge of nervousness, almost afraid as if you were going to incur some sort of angry emotion from the large dog. If he could truly move his own gaping black mouth, he would’ve been frowning right now. DogDay was concerned for you, as to why you were put in this situation.

“I am… just not a very good person, sweetheart.” His gentle tone carried an aura reminiscent of a father if you ever heard one. Your eyes were wide with curiosity, knowing it was okay to continue speaking with him the way you were. “But, you don’t look bad to me. You're even nice to me!” Your innocent tone had brought back a fragmented memory for DogDay, he chuckled with a warm spell about the air.

DogDay let out an audible sigh, “Not all things are as they seem, CatNap included.” His words incited a bout of curiosity in the flames of your stomach. Now this was something you needed to understand, “Stretchy kitty?” DogDay nodded, a chuckle escaping him once more. You simply were the cutest thing he had seen in a long while.

“I.. would say he’s not, kind or gentle as you would think him to be.” DogDay was nervous, irradiated by a different presence he had quickly taken notice of, but had continued on anyway. “CatNap, had uh, punished me Sweetheart. Wasn’t nice to his god.”

‘God?’ you thought, “what is that Mr?” You spoke out in reply, sitting down and closer next to him then you were previously. You were rather oblivious to the presence of such an omniscient aura, menacing enough to be sure. DogDay wasn’t sure how to explain the term finely, but you were curious, wanting to satiate that curiosity by always asking questions.

You deserved to have every single one of them answered, no matter how silly they may seem. DogDay had hoped the best for you, he had gotten rather attached to you. In spite of CatNap’s many warnings to not talk to you or even glance in your direction, not wanting him to bore your head with lies and spiteful attempts to turn you against him in any way possible. Well, DogDay had felt quite an intense hatred against CatNap right at this very moment, and found the courage to move on forward with his words. No matter what may happen to him, “God is uh, let’s say a very inspirational person… powerful even. But he can be a hypocrite too.” He nodded, tilting his head as if he was speaking through his movements.

“Sweetheart, you follow your own heart alright?” DogDay spoke hopefully, hoping to see that his words had gotten to you a little bit. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise.” You nodded with a fire in your eyes he hadn’t expected from you, but this a youthful you, easily impressionable and inspired. DogDay will forever be hopeful for you, and grateful he ever had gotten to speak to you in the past few days anyway.

A distant crying was unheard of, a lonely digressable cat, heart heavy and hurt. He began to cry silently, tears are there yet there are none.

I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #catnap x reader #catnap poppy playtime #catnap #child!reader #dogday poppy playtime

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mediaevalmusereads · 5 months

Text

Baking Yesteryear. By B. Dylan Hollis. DK, 2023.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: cookbook

Series: N/A

Summary: A decade-by-decade cookbook that highlights the best (and a few of the worst) baking recipes from the 20th century

Friends of baking, are you sick and tired of making the same recipes again and again? Then look no further than this baking blast from the past, as B. Dylan Hollis highlights the most unique tasty treats of yesteryear.

Travel back in time on a delicious decade-by-decade jaunt as Dylan shows you how to bake vintage forgotten greats. With a big pinch of fun and a full cup of humor, you’ll be baking everything from Chocolate Potato Cake from the 1910s to Avocado Pie from the 1960s.

Dylan has baked hundreds of recipes from countless antique cookbooks and selected only the best for this bakebook, sharing the shining stars from each decade. And because some of the recipes Dylan shares on his wildly popular social media channels are spectacular failures, he’s thrown in a few of the most disastrously strange recipes for you to try if you dare.

***Full review below.***

Since this book is non-fiction, my review will be structured a little different from normal.

I've had this book for a while, but I didn't want to post a review before making a few of the recipes myself. I was already a fan of Hollis from his TikToks, so that might introduce some bias into my review - just so you're all aware.

Overall, I found this book to be quirky, easy to follow, and fun. I loved the bright colors and retro-feel to the photo shoots, and I appreciated that almost all of the recipes were accompanied by a picture of the thing you're supposed to be making. I also liked the blurbs written by Hollis himself; they very much felt like his voice, with his characteristic sense of humor balanced by his genuine love for baking and "old things."

Perhaps the most valuable part of this book, however, was the emphasis on lowering barriers to entry. I've read my fair share of baking guides that call for special ingredients or equipment, and there are a lot of recipes out there that are finicky and sure ton dissuade new bakers. Hollis's book, however, emphasizes that most (if not all) of these recipes can be done with basic tools - one does not even need an electric mixer (though it does make some recipes easier). There also aren't many fancy ingredients that aren't readily available at most grocery stores, so that also helps.

I do, however, have some minor criticisms which relate to the usability of this book. For one, the organization makes it rather difficult to find a specific recipe (or even category), particularly if you're like me and don't recall what decade it came from. While organizing the recipes by decade makes sense given the book's premise, it does make it more functionally difficult - you can't flip to the cake section, for example, and browse or put yourself within the general vicinity of the recipe you're looking for. Thus, readers will have to rely on either the TOC or the index a lot more, but this is a minor inconvenience rather than a huge drawback.

I also don't think the majority of the recipes are blow-your-mind good, but honestly, given this book's premise, I don't think that's the worst thing. The recipes are largely taken from sources aimed at home bakers, so you're not going to get professional-level pastries out of them. You will, however, get things that are fun and relatively simple to make, and they taste good enough to me that I'd consider making them multiple times.

TL;DR: Baking Yesteryear is a fine book for fans of Hollis's TikTok, but it goes beyond being mere merch. It not only provides historical recipes that are easy to replicate, but it also does a good job of lowering barriers to entry for new bakers. Experienced bakers might not be overly impressed by the recipes, but engaging with food history is a treat in and of itself, and it's delightful to see someone like Hollis engaging with the past with such enthusiasm and adoration.

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gubsbuubs · 3 months

Text

The Sign

Pairing: Chip Taylor x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3.5K

Warnings: Drinking, fluffly smut, creampie.

Summary: As Chip sought an escape from his troubles, a vibrant bar sign beckoned to him. Intrigued, he stepped inside, not knowing what the night had in store for him.

Preview: “Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

A/N: I love Chip so much, just wanna hold him in my arms.

I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

MASTERLIST

The bar had settled into a quiet hum, with a scattering of regulars lounging at their usual spots, half-engaged in a random game flickering on the TV. I seized the opportunity to clean up the sticky residue left behind by a night of beer spills and colorful cocktails, wiping down the counter with rhythmic precision.

A gentle ding echoed through the air as the entrance door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. He took a seat on a stool, keeping his gaze fixed downward. The words spilled out in a wearied tone: "Give me some Jack on the Rocks, please."

Responding to the request, I pivoted towards the top shelf, snagging Jack Daniels. With the clink of ice cubes, I poured a generous amount, recognizing from his demeanor that he could use it.

“There you go," I offered, sliding the drink across the freshly cleaned surface.

Only then that he lifted his head.

His eyes, a rich shade of brown, were captivating yet carried an air of melancholy and fatigue. As they met mine, I couldn't help but notice the subtle weariness etched into his features. A slightly busted lip hinted at a rough patch he might have navigated recently.

The man, who had just walked into the bar, possessed a unique kind of beauty. His eyes, reminiscent of warm mahogany, held stories untold beneath their gaze. The strong bone structure framed a face that seemed to wear the weight of experiences, and his soft and pink lips betrayed a vulnerability hidden behind a worn exterior. In his presence, there was an intriguing blend of strength and fragility—a captivating allure that set him apart in the dimly lit atmosphere of the bar.

His response, a quiet "thanks," hung in the air, leaving an air of mystery around him. Intrigue danced in the atmosphere as I observed him. There was a certain beauty in his quiet gratitude, a sense of vulnerability that added layers to the enigma before me.

His appearance struck a chord, akin to that of a lost puppy finding its way to unfamiliar territory. Despite his undeniable beauty, there was an air of solitude, a silent plea for understanding. As he sat there, seemingly adrift in his thoughts, I couldn't help but feel a tug of compassion, a desire to unravel the story behind those captivating eyes.

“Rough night, hun?” I queried, hoping to ignite a bit of conversation.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he chuckled in response, his eyes briefly meeting mine before lowering again. There was a weight in his words, a heaviness that hinted at the struggles he might be carrying within.

I leaned on the counter, wanting to offer a sympathetic ear. “Well, you’re in good company. People say a bartender is like a makeshift therapist. We listen, pour drinks, and hope things get a little better.”

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said, taking a gulp of his drink.

"Oh...Yeah...that's more than okay. I'll be over there if you need anything." I spoke in a quiet voice, straightening up as if preparing to leave him to his thoughts.

Maybe he just wanted to be alone.

"Hey, no, no, no, stay. I… I´d really appreciate the company," he said, giving me the sweetest half-smile, his look softening.

The silence embraced us for a bit, before I decided to chime in again.

“So… I’ve never seen you around here before.” I leaned in once more, offering a different approach to the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm not from around here. Just passing through"

"Yeah, I knew I didn’t recognize your face. Small town, you know,” I remarked with a grin. “Do you have a name, or are you going for the mysterious stranger vibe?”

The hearty laugh that echoed from his chest illuminated his features with a small yet captivating smile. He was undeniably attractive; his grin seemed to brighten the entire room.

“It’s Chip, Chip Taylor,” he offered, his eyes carrying a spark of amusement.

"Nice to meet you, Chip. I'm Y/n," I offered, reaching my hand across the counter for a handshake. His grip was firm, yet his touch remained gentle, and the warmth in his hands felt inviting.

"Well, well, Mr. Taylor, what brings you to this little slice of paradise?" I asked as I poured a drink for myself.

He chuckled. "Honestly, I don't even know. I just got in the car and drove. When I saw the sign, I decided to come in.”

I jokingly said, "Guess the universe knew it; you needed a sign—literally."

We both laughed, and he agreed, "Well, I guess signs do work in mysterious ways."

“So, are you planning to stay for a couple of days, or is this just a one-night stop?" I inquired.

"Honestly, I don't even know. I didn't plan anything," he responded with a shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression.

"Sounds like someone will be sleeping in their car tonight," I joked, a playful smile accompanying my words.

"Well, it might just come to that. But who knows?" he said, offering me a smile as he took another sip of his drink.

As the night progressed, Chip and I found ourselves engrossed in conversation, our words flowing effortlessly. He proved to be easygoing and open, making the dialogue naturally enjoyable. Through our exchange, I learned that beneath the busted-out exterior, Chip was genuinely a sweet guy.

Sadly, it became evident that a girl had definitely made a number on his pretty little head, and from what I could gather, that seemed to have left him with a sense of being lost and lonely, undeserving of love.

As Chip shared tales about his ex-girlfriend, Liza, was her name, it was pretty clear that he had experienced a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth and kindness he exuded clashed sharply with the pain inflicted by someone he had once cared deeply for. Each word seemed to carry the weight of a past filled with unsuspecting toxicity.

Listening to him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for this beautiful soul who had been blindsided by the harsh realities of his last relationship. His genuine belief in love and commitment made the way she treated him more repulsive. I wondered how someone could overlook the treasure that Chip was—someone who radiated sweetness and cared for others with a sincere heart.

Yet, despite the wounds he carried, Chip maintained a certain innocence in his recounting. It was as if he couldn't fathom the depths of the toxicity until it consumed him. My heart ached for him, and I found myself wanting to shield this gentle soul from further harm.

As the other customers gradually left, Chip willingly joined me in tidying up the tables and washing the remaining cups. Amid laughter and shared stories, we closed the bar together, his presence a comforting company that made the tasks feel lighter.

"It might be your lucky day, Taylor," I told him as I watched him close the metal guards at the front.

"How so?" He asked in a gentle tone as he rose to his feet.

"Well, you helped me a lot tonight, and I just feel like I should return the favor. So, how about you crash at my place?" I offered; it was the least I could do for him. “It’s that one, right across the street.”

"Oh, Y/N, no way. I don't want to step into your space like that." He held his hands up as if unsure about accepting the invitation.

I grabbed his arm as I started to walk to my house. "Hey, it's okay, I insist. I bet my couch, although very old, is still more comfortable than your car." I laughed.

I noticed a hesitant yet grateful smile forming on his lips, a silent acceptance of the offer.

“Come on, Chip, you can even take a shower and change into some spare clothes I have lying around.”

“They’re my brother's. He has some spares at my house for when he stays here to help me out with the bar,” I offered a small explanation.

"And your boyfriend won’t mind me wearing his clothes?" His tone held a curious edge, a playful note that suggested a mix of light-hearted banter and genuine interest. There was a subtle spark in his eyes, as if he was testing the waters, teasing to see my reaction.

"His clothes or not, you're letting a stranger stay at your house. I bet he won't like it." He was now fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for me to open the door.

“Chip,” I laughed at his awkwardness, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

As we stepped into the house, I motioned for Chip to get comfortable.

“Can I get you anything?” I offered it in a sweet tone.

"I'm good, thank you,"

I grabbed some spare clothes for him. While he freshened up in the main bathroom, I decided to take a quick shower in my room.

Half-expecting to find him already asleep as I approached the living room, the soft glow of the lamp revealed Chip, not asleep but comfortably seated on the couch, engrossed isome random show playing on tv.

"You clean up nicely. Feeling better?" I asked.

Dressed in a white shirt and comfortable sweats, he seemed at ease.

As I studied his demeanor, it was evident that the stress had lifted off his shoulders. His posture became more relaxed, and the subtle lines of tension that had etched themselves across his face seemed to ease He exuded a sense of calm and peace, looking remarkably beautiful on my sofa. His lip, no longer marred with dried blood, revealed a gentler man, and the earlier signs of roughness had disappeared. He looked not just good, but like he belonged here.

Chip looked up with a soft smile on his lips.

"Much better, thanks to you," he replied.

“Anytime,” I said, returning his smile. “So, do you usually end up in random towns, or is this a first?”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s not a regular occurrence, but life has its surprises. Sometimes you just go with the flow.”

“Must make for some interesting stories,” I commented, settling onto the couch.

“You have no idea,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

As our conversation meandered through the night, Chip’s gaze softened, and a more vulnerable side emerged. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, his eyes occasionally dropping to his hands.

“You know...” he hesitated, “Meeting you, it’s been a bright spot in a bit of a rough patch.”

I smiled, sensing a genuine sincerity in his words. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” I admitted.

He sighed, a mixture of nervousness and contemplation in the air. “Can I be honest?” Chip looked up, meeting my eyes with a touch of uncertainty.

“Of course,” I encouraged, curious about the turn in our conversation.

He shifted on the couch and said, “I wasn’t expecting to feel this… comfortable. It’s like I’ve known you longer than just tonight.”

The vulnerability in his expression tugged at my heart. “Sometimes, connections happen unexpectedly,” I replied, choosing my words carefully.

Chip nodded, his eyes reflecting gratitude. “Maybe it’s the universe giving me a sign.”

There was a subtle shift in the air, an unspoken understanding between us. As I met his gaze, I noticed a hint of longing, a desire for connection that went beyond words.

He hesitated, then, with a shy smile, he said, “Would it be too forward if I said I’d really like to kiss you right now?”

I felt a warmth spreading within, appreciating his honesty. “Not too forward at all,” I admitted, mirroring his smile.

He inched his way to my face, his nose touching mine. I could feel his breath, smelling of the whiskey I had poured him earlier. His lips brushed over mine as if seeking confirmation, and in that moment, I leaned in, and our kiss began. It was soft, filled with affection, a gentle exploration of each other's feelings.

I brought my hands to his face, cupping it delicately. My fingers played with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. The kiss deepened slightly, each movement a synchronized dance of two souls finding solace in each other's company.

With a mild pull, we found ourselves sinking into the sofa, our lips meeting again in a sweet and unhurried kiss. The room seemed to fade away as we lost ourselves in the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Soft sighs and the light rustle of fabric became a symphony to my ears.

As our kisses deepened, the desire for closeness grew. Chip shifted his weight as he continued to savor the connection that seemed to deepen with each passing second. His hands traced gentle patterns on my back and sides.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my cheek.

"Chip, you have no idea how beautiful you are," I replied, my fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "You’re so sweet and kind; you deserve nothing but love.” My eyes met his; his lips were open, but no words came out, so I continued, “I want to treat you right, the way you should have been treated before."

He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "I... I've never had someone say something like that to me."

My hand gently tugged at his neck as I whispered, "She didn't deserve you, Chip. Every little second she spent with you, she didn't deserve it."

He breathed in deeply, and I felt his Adam's apple bobbing under my fingertips as he looked up at me with his big brown eyes.

"Why are you being so good to me?"

In that quiet space right before our lips met again, you could practically feel the tension in the air. It was like this magnetic pull, and I swear, you could almost hear our hearts beating in sync.I could feel the gentle touch of his fingers, a feather-light caress that traced the contours of my face, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. The room was dim, but it felt like everything was glowing. You know those moments when time kinda stops? Yeah, it was one of those. I could sense his breath mixing with mine, and there was this unspoken language passing between our eyes. It was all anticipation, a sweet torture, and then, in a heartbeat, our lips crashed back together.

Our bodies synced in a rhythmic dance, his hips gently pressing into mine. The sensation of his hardness against the warmth between my thighs was like a wildfire spreading through me, making my toes curl in sweet response.

His hands explored the curves of my body, tracing a path that sent shivers down my spine. The touch was electric, making my breath catch in the midst of pleasure. Our mouths collided in a passionate exchange, each kiss leaving us both breathless and wanting more. His lips migrated from mine to my neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. Meanwhile, his hands found a comfortable spot on my hips, gently pulling me closer to him. The squeeze was tender, yet firm.

I guided him backward onto the couch, settling myself on his lap. Leaning in, I pressed soft kisses along his neck, the taste of his skin driving my desire. Running my teeth lightly against it, I elicited a quiet moan from him. Leaning further, our lips met in a fiery kiss, passion igniting between us. The world faded away as I lost myself in the intensity of the moment, our connection deepening with every shared breath and every stolen kiss.

“You’re driving me insane, Y/N," he whispered in my ear as his hands met my hips to guide me as I grinned on his fully hard but still covered dick.

“I’ve barely even started,” I chuckled as I placed small kisses on his collarbone. He responded with a sharp inhale, laying his head back and grinding his hips up to meet mine.

“Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.

“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

Those pretty brown eyes begging me were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and it made me grow even hotter than before. I responded with a soft smile, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek and lowering myself on the ground in front of him.

“Y/n, you don't have to," but there was a subtle hint of hope in his eyes, secretly wishing I wouldn’t stop what I was doing. And so I didn't. As my hands laid flat on his thighs, I looked at him and said, "But I want to."

The whimper he let out was delicious, clearly growing desperate as my hands worked the string of his sweats. He raised his hips a little so I could help him out of them, freeing him completely.

“Baby... your cock is so pretty,” I told him with a sweet smile.

“Humm.. is it?” He asked in a quiet moan, with uncertainty coaxing his voice.

“Humm..humm” I placed a soft kiss on the tip. “The prettiest.” I then slowly started to kitten-lick before taking him into my mouth as my right hand started to move.

As his head fell back, his hand met the back of my neck. He couldn’t contain himself as he moaned loudly. Fuck, this man was vocal, and his soft moans and whimpers were making me wetter than ever before.

As I sucked on his cock, his hand pulled on my hair, guiding me however he saw fit. Suddenly, he pulled me up. "Please stop, or I’m going to cum," he moaned, his body shuddering with pleasure. “I want to be inside of you.”

Now was my turn to moan at his words; he sounded so sincere, like he longed for it.

As I rose from the ground, I took my pants off and motined for him to also take the rest of his clothes off.

I held a twinkle in my eyes as I suggested, “You want to help me out, pretty boy?”

He immediately lunged forward, grabbing my ass and pulling me close to his mouth. His open-mouth kisses on my stomach sent fireworks of pleasure through my body, and I felt as if every nerve in my body had lit up with desire.

His fingers grazed my sides as he hooked them on the fabric of my panties, pulling them down.

He then took my shirt off before pulling me into his lap once again.

I reached between us, taking his dick in my hand and lining it up with my entrance. As I sank down, he captured my lips once again, moaning in my mouth at the sensation of him filling me up.

“Fuck Chip, you feel so good, so big inside of me,” I said, looking into his eyes. He almost melted, his lips half open, letting a sweet moan escape.

“You’re so warm, Y/N, so tight." He hissed as I stared to move. "Fuck,” he moaned in a high-pitched tone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Oh my god...” He cried, “So good.”

"I bet Liza never made you feel this good," I teased, kissing his neck softly.

"Never," he moaned, his body shivering with pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet she's nowhere near as good as me at making you feel good," I said, biting his neck hard enough to leave a mark.

"There's nothing that could ever compare to this," he moaned, his hands wrapped around me and his entire body tense with pleasure.

As I moved up and down, I felt his hands travel along my body, sending me a shiver of pleasure. His breath quickened, and his whimpers became more incoherent with each movement.

“Y/n.. y/n I ca..” He tried to speak, but the sentences seemed hard to form.

“What is it, baby boy?” I asked as I grabbed his chin, making him keep his eyes on mine.

"I need to..." He sounded desperate, and my walls squeezed at his neediness.

"Oh, baby,” I moaned. “Am I fucking you so good you can't even hold a conversation?”

He quickly nodded his head in affirmation.

Oh, what a sight! He looked so worked up, and his eyes begged me to not stop my movements as his dick hit my cervix.

“Can I please..." He tried to form the full sentence, but a moan inturremped him. I could feel the fires of passion burning inside me with each stroke, his cock twitching, yearning for release.

He breath in deeply “Can I please cum inside”.

“Yes baby” I moaned “Please cum for me” I held him close as I rode our shared climax. The felling of his load spilling into me made me feel full.

As I reclined on the couch, Chip nestled himself between my legs, his head finding a restful spot on my chest. Despite lingering fatigue, his demeanor shifted to one of contentment and tranquility. With gentle strokes, I caressed his head, feeling the softness of his hair.

"Well, that was unexpected,” he spoke, breaking the moment with a light-hearted chuckle.

I laughed, “The best things usually are.”

Chip’s gaze softened, and he looked at me with a mix of gratitude and realization. “You know, YN, I never thought I could feel so much love from someone. It’s… it’s different.”

I smiled, appreciating the sincerity in his words. “Different can be a beautiful thing. You know? The ordinary becomes extraordinary in the company of the right person.”

Chip sighed contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. "Well, I think I found the right person tonight."

And with those words, he succumbed to the embrace of slumber, the room filled with the soft sounds of a peaceful night.

#chip taylor #chip taylor smut #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor fluff #mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader #68 kill #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut

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theghostkingisdead · 1 month

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dpxdc - Neglected Child AU

As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.

There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”

Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.

“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”

“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.

Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.

Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.

The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.

“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”

Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”

The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.

“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”

Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”

There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.

Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”

Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.

Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”

Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.

“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”

Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”

“Tell me.”

“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”

Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”

#ghost king danny #dpxdc jason todd #jasmine fenton #jazz fenton #sentient gotham #neglected child au #dpxdc #yeah i'm really excited about this idea. its been cooking for a while now .#its nowhere near complete but honestly i'm having trouble with batfam characterization. if anyones interested in like #cowriting #my dms are always open #unedited

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yvnaology · 3 months

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♦︎ from : the opera epiclese.

synopsis. the five stages: interest, enlightenment, infatuation, falling in love, and lastly— decision. to say that these five stages aligned with your progressing relationship with the peculiar magician in fontaine was a grave understatement. the heart wants what it wants, and it wanted him. (repost!!)

to: @rainswept @ryuryuryuyurboat @boykissr @meidnightrain ( taglist ↲ click link to sign up! )

♠︎ | title : 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. wc. 5.4k tw: none.

i. stage one : interest. the first stage can be described as many things: the overture, the beginning, but one does not miss how an inexplicable intrigue takes hold. this is the genesis of a crush.

besides trials, the opera epiclese served as a stage for a variety of performances. according to luzerne, the receptionist, lyney and lynette’s magic show was one of the more popular acts in the opera house.

upon entry after hesitantly purchasing a ticket, luzerne’s words replayed in your mind — the keyword ‘popular’ stood out like a thorn in her sentence. even with her dreamy sighs and gaze filled with admiration, there was no doubt that her words were as truthful as her ginger hair.

the raised seating sections of the grand, multi-leveled opera house were filled to the brim — with people wearing starstruck expressions and waiting in anticipation. the people seated next to you were so dazed, despite the goal of the show being to successfully deceive their twinkling eyes.

you felt out of place, unable to believe the charm the twins possessed to have the audience at their beck and call.

the lights in the confined space darkened, and the spotlight was casted upon the two. the assistant was a female whose feline features made her unique and fascinating — carrying a softened voice and dark violet colored eyes that would appear hollow and contain a certain nothingness. but the male.. he was her opposite, her contrasting counterpart, a magician with a mischievous grin and flowery words as his weapon.

at least, you thought so. his eyes were a lighter shade of violet, clear and full of flamboyance. yet, his eyes seemed as if they held more nothingness than his sister’s. he seemed like he had more to hide.

your own irises followed the movement of lyney’s hands as he moved his fingers in an intricate manner to bend a card to his will. swift movements with what were supposed to be made of regular plastic — made objects appear. first it was a simple teacup of porcelain, then a mechanical penguin, followed by a card with the design of a piece of jewelry that belonged to an audience member.

as soon as the other’s heads turned to the stage, lyney had already prepared his next move — holding said jewelry with a cheeky grin. with the snap of his fingers, the object of pristine value had disappeared, returning to the person who once wore it.

lyney unveils a mysterious box, explaining that it is the portal through which he will perform the ultimate teleportation. he invites a random audience member to inspect the box for any hidden compartments or tricks. once satisfied, lyney places the selected card, the vanished handkerchief, and the dove inside the box.

as the audience holds its breath, lyney dramatically opens the box. to everyone's astonishment, the chosen card, the handkerchief, and the dove have all vanished. the lights flicker, and suddenly, lyney appears at the back of the courthouse, holding the vanished items in his hands.

but yours were focused on his expression, the slightest jittering of his hands caught your attention more than the trick did.

as soon as the other’s heads turned to the stage, lyney had already prepared his next trick — holding one of the audience member’s precious jewelry. with the snap of his fingers, the object of pristine value had disappeared, returning to the person who once wore it.

the audience erupts in applause and cheers, marveling at the magical journey they've just experienced. the magician takes a bow, leaving the audience with a sense of wonder and disbelief in the face of the extraordinary — that was a magician’s natural talent. therein lies the beauty of it all.

the performance was magical in its own right, chaotic and mysterious. it held enough stunts to have the people questioning how they were done, with interviewers bursting with questions by the end of it.

you noticed how you accidentally left your umbrella in your seat, rushing to retrieve it — a fear of an umbrella theft taking place in the opera epiclese was not as irrational as some would think.

“is this umbrella yours, by chance?”

his smooth voice and charming smile made you pause. for a second, you felt nerves in your stomach — swallowing any unauthorized thoughts before nodding. “yeah, that’s mine.. must’ve left it in my seat.” you responded quietly, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“you did, but don’t worry — there won’t be any theft here on my watch.” he reassured before placing the umbrella in your hands. the moment he saw your eyebrow raising, he let out a chuckle. “you look a tad bit nervous, that’s why i assumed — unless it’s my presence causing such nerves?”

his grin only widened at his own words.

“no, just fear that i’ll be drenched in the rain and wake up feeling sick the next morning,” you retorted immediately, yet his grin never faltered.

“hehe — of course, of course.. you’ve just been coming to my shows quite often, that specfic seat is always occupied.” his tone was lighthearted and carefree, causing your heart rate to decrease a little.

“i’d say you’re quite intrigued by me, no?”

“by you? no, it’s just your tricks i’m interested in.” the way he put his thumb and index finger under his chin as if contemplating tells you that he didn’t buy your lie.

“your eyes usually don’t wander to where the happenings of my tricks are, they’re constantly on me — it’s not good to lie, you know?” he quipped, and your eyes only averted to the floor which made his smile turn into a smirk.

your embarrassment was evident, but he wouldn’t want you to become uncomfortable in his presence so he backtracks. “don’t worry — i'm not making fun of you or anything of the sort. in fact, i think your interest in me is a form of praise in itself.”

“really? a form of praise..?”

“you focus more on the artist rather than the art.. hm, that itself intrigues me as well.”

his body language gives away that his words are sincere, but given his position in society — a man meant to lie and wait in the pool of falsity, you were uncertain.

he crosses his arms, keeping his posture straight and poised. “i hope to see your seat occupied during my next show, but until then.. i see that you have places to be. i bid you farewell, and hope you have a pleasant day.”

he waved you goodbye, but the moment you stepped outside — you were met with the sight of pastel petals and a green stem in your bag. “how interesting.” you mused.

ii. stage two : enlightenment. with understanding comes development, as the seat in the opera epiclese continues to be cushioned specifically for you — leading to a blooming friendship between you and the magician whose presence fills you with more questions than answers.

“hey, i didn’t see you yesterday.” he pouts, finding his most precious audience member’s seat empty was not the most pleasant sight he could’ve seen — and you were left to deal with the aftermath.

it wasn’t often that you’d have to deal with a pouty magician, but whenever such an occurrence did happen — your eyes were glued onto his expression, watching as it changes depending on your words. “sorry, i was pretty busy and forgot to buy a ticket..”

he stared into your eyes for a few seconds, before his signature grin etched onto his face. “hm.. not to worry, i happen to have a ticket right here.” he turns and directed the softest smile at you, sliding a ticket in your direction; your surprise was evident, and the grip on the teacup’s handle tightened slightly.

“you’re giving it to me?” you decided to question, placing the teacup back onto the table with utmost care. lyney let out a laugh at your disbelief, quirking a brow at how your expression was one of shock.

“of course, who else would i give it to?” he questioned back, leaving you with many possible candidates in your head — but knowing the esteemed magician quite well by now; he’d have several responses at his feet to reassure you otherwise.

far across — a few tables away, you could hear the sounds of giggles and endless chattering. their eyes were set on you two as if you were a prey of gossip. you tensed, lifting the teacup to your awaiting lips to distract yourself from their quips with the taste of tea leaves.

“don’t mind them,” he suddenly suggested, though it sounded more of a command that was merely spoken in a softer tone than anything else. “if they feel the need to gossip, let them. indulging in the past-time of mentioning other people before reflecting on themselves is rather common practice.. unfortunately.”

you could’ve sworn you heard him stifle a yawn mid-sentence.

“are you tired?” your voice revealed your concern, much to his dismay.

“caught me red-handed, just.. please don’t mention this to lynette — she’d scold me a new one.” he pleaded, and the obvious exhaustion made the thought of the gossiping spectators be sent to the back of your mind.

“were you practicing late again?” another question that left him with a guilty conscience.

“well.. it isn’t as if i could practice a trick once and master it immediately.”

“i know.. but you can’t keep skipping days of rest either,” you gently scolded, a wave of concern hitting you at the sight of newly found under-eye bags.

he only lets out a faint sigh, a frown creasing on his face as you gently take his source of consciousness — coffee, and place it on the opposite end of the table.

“and this isn’t a healthy solution.” you continued with a voice carrying a tint of worry.

“go home and sleep, lyney.”

“but.. i still have a performance later.”

“take a nap, replenish your energy — otherwise you’ll be ridiculed for having the appearance of a literal zombie.”

he laid his head on the table, his frown only deepening at the offense he felt from your comment. “but being in the company of such a lovely friend as yourself is already replenishing my energy.”

“how touching, now get up.. please?” now you were the one to plead, but with good reasoning — to your defense.

he contemplated for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons of listening to your rather commonplace advice. his involuntary pout returned, and you had a feeling he was going to make a deal of sorts. “if you promise to come to my show today, i’ll go home.”

you almost snorted at his persistence to have you in his audience, but you kept your impending giggles to yourself before nodding. “alright, i promise.”

his eyes were rapidly blinking, as if in an attempt to keep himself awake. you were staring longer than a friend ever should, that was for certain. your index finger gently tapped on his nose, causing his eyes to settle onto your face. “go home.” you repeated.

he let out a yawn before rising from his seat, waving you farewell as his steps became quieter until his silhouette was nowhere in sight.

another two stems of rainbow roses made their presence known in your bag, multi-colored petals emphasizing its beauty. your fingers subconsciously twiddled the stems, a giddy smile appearing on your face — the warming of your chest and the prolonged stare at its pinkish color made your mind race. you hoped he enjoyed the small gift you left in his hat.

it wasn’t just you with the feeling of newfound joy in your heart, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a small transparent bag tied with a red bow — its contents making his expression grow soft. cubic jellies, one of the many desserts that he had the habit of bringing to his workplace — and one that you remembered.

iii. stage three : infatuation. sparks begin to fly, fluttery, exciting sensation in the stomach — intense desire, heightened sensitivity… daydreams and fantasies cloud your judgement. to be infatuated means to experience both euphoria and fear. to be infatuated means to seek more than you’re being given.

you dreamed of him that night.

his twinkling amethysts mock you in your daydreams, his charming grin garners your prolonged gaze — and you find yourself attracted to him. the magician was a tease, even when he’s simply crossing his legs and asking for your opinion on his newest trick.

all of your objectivity heads out of the window by that point. all you can think about is how to praise his hard work, even if he reassures you that any kind of criticism is welcome.

shuffling a deck of cards, his eyes dart from the props on the table to your expression — waiting for any reaction. “so, my dearest audience member.. what did you think of that last one? i do think i need more practice before my next performance—”

“it was perfect.”

to say that lyney was surprised at this was an understatement.

your praises never came so quickly, he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence because words of awe and admiration escaped your throat. it was as if you weren’t even thinking before you spoke (which was completely the case). it wasn’t your fault that his handiwork was so compelling, alluring to the eyes as much as his face was. there wasn’t any room to think, only to stare, only to scan his every feature.

“oh? is that so? you don’t need to sugarcoat it so much — i can take it!” his smooth voice carries a hint of teasing, adding to your current stress of having words pop out of your mouth quicker than your mind could comprehend. great, now he thinks you weren’t being genuine.

“i’m being serious, i didn’t see anything wrong with it.” you decided to respond, hoping he took your words seriously and perhaps even complimented you in return.

lyney only looks confused, causing your head to ache out of nervous anticipation.

“thank you for the praise, but trust me... i do need more practice. after all, i ended up forgetting a prop during this practice session..” he concluded with a chuckle.

he did? you hadn’t even noticed. you felt so incredibly stupid. of course, he wasn’t looking for praise — but honest judgment. ‘flowery words in this scenario were not the right call’, you noted.

that was only one of many examples of the disaster that came with infatuation.

idealism was the one-way ticket to a world of hurt, and you wished that you could use your head instead of your eyes — projecting your every desire and fantasy onto him. he was a mystery even after months of friendship. you felt as if you barely knew a thing about the object of your affection — and that alone made your heartache.

in your mind, his every mistake was to be overlooked — he was perfect through your rose-colored glasses. that was what you were sticking with, to make up for the lack of knowledge you had on the magician. he appeared in every dream, filling your mind with rose petals and heart-shaped eyes. that wasn’t reality, you were being sucked into a world of illusion.

that, and his flowery tongue was less than helpful. you often wondered what he was thinking whenever he spoke to you that way. did he mean any of it, or was it all a farce? you truly never knew, and perhaps that was his goal.

it seems that your attempts at being subtle were going south by the minute, teases from your friends about your relationship with him made you groan, and their giggles and quips.. all of it was more conflicting if anything.

“so, you and lyney?” one chirped with eyes sparkling with mischievous intent, gathering the gazes of the rest of the group who had their mouths agape.

you had no choice but to shake your head, feeling your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar manner — all while your friends sat in waiting for an explanation you didn’t even have in hand.

“me and lyney what?” it was the safest dialogue option, creating open room for conversation — yet revealing their true intentions with such a question that they were bound to respond honestly to. it was a mere attraction, something that would pass with time. at least, you desperately hoped it did.

“are you two going out?”

such a question was absurd, even to your ears. you only found him attractive, and you’d make that sentiment clear to prevent any misunderstandings and possible rumors. “no, i just find him attractive... i don’t like him like that though.”

your voice was firm, filled with confidence that you were completely uncertain of. it seemed that they got the hint, as their expressions changed from curiosity to understanding, with slight concern as well — you noticed.

but it seemed that there was one that decided to continue to push, hoping for something to satisfy their desire for the knowledge of your relationship with the magician.

judging stares, nudging shoulders — perhaps they didn’t get the hint after all. “are you sure?” they inquired further, seeming like someone akin to a journalist about to branch out on their next exclusive.

were you sure? your stomach churned at the thought of yourself being uncertain; you had to be, there was no other choice. the grip on your clothing grew tighter, and the moment you turned to face your friend — all you could do was give an affirmative nod. “i’m certain.”

iv. stage four : falling in love. when the feeling settles in at a random moment as if waking up from a nightmare that sends your heart pounding — a realization that has that same effect. what hits you first isn’t joy, it’s panic.

you were not certain.

as you lay in bed that night, you recall your conversation with your friends — and mentally curse yourself for having the slightest doubt that lyney and his enticing demeanor didn’t make your heart warm and race.

his every move was a magic trick, and his audience was your aching heart that yearned for him. you often wondered what it was, what about him excited you so much. what was it that made him appear in your every dream? twiddling your fingers as you sat in your bed, you demanded yourself to believe that what you felt was an illusion.

but it wasn’t, being in his mere presence lifted your mood more than anything or anyone else; then there was the giddy feeling that overwhelmed your senses, the rush of emotions you earned from his every woven word. all of it was replaced with a heavy guilt and fear.

what were you meant to do now?

it wasn’t as if you could confess, your blood ran cold at the mention of spilling your everlasting line of emotional distress because you liked lyney to anyone. it was as if you were chasing an impossible goal, with no path opened to go to next. helplessness felt with every breath you drew. hurt, etched with every doubt in your mind that lyney most likely didn’t return the sentiment.

how could you possibly be hopeful at a time like this?

lyney was a perceptive person, able to read a person’s emotions from their micro-expressions, using their emotional leakage to expose one’s true intentions and feelings through a mere gaze. of course, you were no exception.

lynette, as peculiar as one might find her, had a similar talent of such. which is exactly why you caught her eye in particular. as usual, lyney never failed to mention his day-to-day endeavors to her, much to her (slight) delight. once your name escaped his lips, she was already intrigued. his description, while dramatic, gave her enough curiosity to watch over your conversations with him — her results? she finds them to be more surprising than usual.

at first, her mind drifted to you being simply attracted, not thinking too much in depth about the words you’d use or how your cheeks would redden at even the slightest charming comment. it was rather common for someone’s behavior toward the object of admiration, at least she thought so.

fascination was a usual occurrence, especially for someone as eccentric as lyney. he attracted the attention of those he met, created a suave impression — and kept it up for as long as possible. lynette wasn’t a stranger to such things, she’d seen it happen one too many times to count.

she prefers to use her eyes to understand the situation and find an appropriate solution, usually. though this matter was more complex, the more she used her eyes, the more insight she’d have on your feelings — oftentimes, she’d stay quiet during your conversations with her brother simply to observe your mannerisms around him, and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow on more than one occasion.

“hm, these animals seem to enjoy your company more than mine — tis a tragedy.” the magician tuts, gently touching the snow-white fur of one of the bunnies used in his eccentric shows. you were hung on his every word, your finger gently tapping on the bunny’s nose — causing its ears to twitch. “aw, we’ll i’m honored.”

the moment your gaze left the bunny and landed on his eyes, lynette couldn’t help but notice the slightest quirk of the corner of your lips or how your fingers fidgeted — signs of nerves, she recalled.

“my, it seems that they certainly are quite fond of you — presenting you with something of utmost value..” he beamed, looking pleased with himself as you heightened an eyebrow. “notice anything different about our little friend here?”

your pupils dilated once your eyes set on the bunny once more, carrying a rainbow rose in between its teeth — the moment you moved your hand closer, the animal dropped the plant into your palm. your breath hitched, unable to control the sudden rush of euphoria and the sound of your heart pounding against your chest, threatening to burst.

perhaps it was a better idea not to look so awestruck by a stem and petals, clearing your throat as you keep your gaze on the furred animal instead of your friend. “a rainbow rose..?”

“only befitting, if i do say so myself.”

his comment only made you swallow, the urge to bite your lip in embarrassment was strong, yet you resisted — lest you appear as a lovesick fool in his eyes. that was the absolute last thing you wanted.

with a flourish of his arms and lilac embers staring into the very corners of your soul, you found yourself completely lost in the allure of his gaze. “i used a lumidouce bell last time we spoke, remember? it’s only natural that i upgrade your little gift~!”

he wasn’t good for your heart, not in the slightest; and one day, you sincerely hoped he’d see that as well. his smile held a certain kind of elation that you’ve never seen before, enough to make your heart melt into a puddle. lynette could only imagine what you must be thinking, and even she’d begun to ponder how deep your feelings went if her interpretation held any accuracy.

after such an interaction came to a close, with lyney adjusting his hat as you walked away — lynette’s footsteps were barely audible as she appeared next to you. your eyes landed on her blank expression immediately, wondering why she wasn’t heading in the same direction as her twin. “did you need anything?”

“you.. like him, don’t you?”

her question was enough to halt the rapid beating of your heart. whether to be honest or not was completely up to you, yet — hiding in cowardice and dishonesty was not on your agenda, you’d realized that ever since you came to terms with your battling emotions.

“i do.” was all you could answer her, unknowing what to expect from the half-feline — though, a harsh scolding was completely out of the question and out of character for lynette anyway.

lynette only pulled at the hem of her sleeve, and you could only assume she was contemplating on what to say. “i see, i figured as much.. your behavior lined up.”

you were confused as to whether you should feel offended or joyful at her words, knowing that you weren’t the most subtle — but then again, who could deceive lynette’s eyes and ears?

you were about to speak up when lynette cut to the chase and nodded. “are you certain that you do..?”

were you certain? you’ve asked yourself this countless times, having played a sequence of contemplation, contradictory thoughts, guilt, and finally, acceptance all in your head; you were lost and being forced to deal with a desire for even another second simply being next to him, what you wouldn’t give to hear his voice every second of every day. were you absolutely certain that this phase was truly different?

lynette stared at you expectantly, you had no doubt that she saw the hesitance and worry written all over your face — but your answer remained the same, it was what you answered to your friends when you came to the wrong conclusion, but this time was in complete contrast. “i’m certain.”

v. stage five : decision. the decision stage is naturally the hardest, the most important and the most impactful. it’s the phase that sets the stage for you two — one that determines it all with only a few words.

in your eyes, there was a one-sided nervous tension in the air. a confession loomed, weighed down by unspoken words for too long — your world was crackled with vulnerability, a loop of anger directed at yourself, as well as sharp pangs of pain at how heavy your heartfelt because of the condemnation that was love.

at the center of it all was lyney, a burial of your feelings was in order — yet they would resurface every time he said with his smooth voice. it felt almost eerie, how quickly he could make you let out both chuckles or bitterness and joy. apart of you felt so incredibly warm, the feeling that you once thought was fleeting — led on for months. it was impossible to suppress, challenging to hide, and hurtful to keep silent.

your throat begged for the day when you would spill every thought that crossed your mind whenever you saw his face. begged for the opportunity to be able to swoon whenever he combed his unruly hair back with a grin, begged for you to release the tension in your body if only by saying “i love you.”

A delicate dance of revelation and acceptance was what it was, the syllables almost escaped your tongue on too many occasions — and your emotions were beginning to become bothersome to keep in control. your mind splurged with imagery, your hand reaching to touch his gloved ones, and how your heart yearned for his attention.. it was out of bounds to even have these thoughts occur.

guilt, at the concept of pushing your feelings onto another and praying to every archon that they’re reciprocated. to you, that sounded unfair — and unjust. acceptance, that your feelings were true and uncomfortable, yet it was what your disposition felt entitled to have, it’s the path you’re set to follow whether you approve or not. hope that perhaps pouring every mumble and verb onto him would earn you a softened gaze instead of a stare of concern and judgment.

perhaps he’ll say “i love you.” in return instead of “i’m sorry.” — that he would acknowledge you and save you from crumbling sorrow buried under the label of heartache.

would it be able to handle rejection? would you be able to recover from such a thing? how will you face him after? what would you say?

the thought of weight being placed off of you through unspoken truths, destroying that invisible barrier of transparency, revealing authenticity through hardened exteriors — both scared you and elated you.

you’d wonder what it would feel if it was all placed off of your chest for him to carry for you.

your eyes searched his lilac ones, your legs almost touching as he performed another trick for you — a routine you’ve gotten used to (minus your rapidly beating heart). “Magic has a way of revealing the hidden, don’t you think?” lyney mused, his eyes locking onto yours as your gaze averted to his cards — clenching your right hand instinctively.

you could only nod, following along with his deft hands making the cards made out of plastic seem like the most interesting thing in the world. “it’s like unveiling secrets one at a time, it’s.. more than just illusions.”

“you have quite the keen eye, watch carefully now.. blink, and you might miss it,” he warned with a cheeky smile, asking you to choose a card — emphasizing that you hold a special connection to the card you chose.

after shuffling the deck, lyney’s eyes close tightly — before picking a card and handing it back to you. opening one of his eyes as if winking, he only smiled at you before inquiring, “is this your card?”

you stare at the card with a rose symbol embedded into it, recalling that it was the exact card you had picked before. “it is, what now?”

he chuckled, reminding you that patience is a virtue — he placed a hand above the card, his fingers not coming into direct contact with it. after a second, the card began to levitate, much to your awe and confusion.

unfortunately for you, his eyes were as captivating as ever, drawing your attention from his hands. your ever-growing line of questions extends the moment a rose appears from the card, landing on your palm. your eyes widened with amazement, “how did you—”

“i did tell you to watch carefully, didn’t i?” he responded with a smirk forming on his face, causing you to give him an unamused stare.

“come now, don’t give me that look..” he feigned a look of defeat, much to your dismay — though, you had to admit that his expression was oddly adorable.

“i wouldn’t have been able to catch it even if i did watch carefully,” you retorted, keeping your eyes focused on the rose’s petals to check for authenticity — confirming that the rose was more real than your feelings for the magician.

“guess that’s one secret i’m afraid you won’t get to catch.” he hummed, evidently content with his actions while you couldn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes. your nerves were subtle, and you couldn’t bear to think of lyney’s reaction when he found out what you were planning to say soon.

you took a deep breath, yet his expression was still lighthearted and peaceful — his eyes glimmered with something else.. not the nothingness that remained when you first met, but pure and wholehearted contentment. he didn’t look as if he were hiding, cowering, or even hesitant. his eyes were filled with the determination you wish you owned.

“speaking of secrets, there’s one i’ve been keeping, and tonight — the stage is set to reveal it. would you like to know?” he placed a hand under his chin, crossing his legs as you blinked. “a secret?”

“one i’m surprised you haven’t caught onto yet, yes.” he reaffirmed, his expression softening and his smile growing slightly wider. this was nothing you’ve ever seen from him.

“what is it?” you inquired, your voice barely above a whisper — as if your earlier fears were resurfacing. your fingers tightened around your sleeve, biting your tongue and anticipating his next words with newfound anxiety.

“i love you.”

the rose rested on your lap, a spur of emotions hitting you all at once — you opened your mouth to speak, to say anything, but once again.. lyney rendered you completely speechless.

the props were witnesses to the development that you weren’t expecting, such a gentle voice and three words filled with elation and affection. his eyes were twinkling with redamancy, awaiting the answer that you were certain he would have anticipated.

his hand shifted closer to you, opening it to reveal his gloved palm. “if you’d have me.. i’d like to be more than friends.. how does that sound, my dear companion?”

nothing could capture the nuance that accompanied the present moment, as your throat betrayed you and your voice cracked. “i love you too.” you hadn’t meant to come off as meek, but the beamed look on his face was enough for you to overlook your little setback. it felt as if you’ve made his entire world with one sentence that echoed in the air for at most, two seconds.

“then,” his fingers lingered on yours, tugging slightly until your hand fit in his own. “allow us to create our own authentic performance that lasts.. forever, what say you?”

#lyney x reader #lyney x gender neutral reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #astronetwrk

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motherofdogs1010 · 4 months

Text

Little Darling I (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, stripper!reader, eventual smut, swearing, drinking, mentions of prostitution/ sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence

😊 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😊 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

A new club in Peaky Blinder territory was something that always raised Tommy's attention; usually, he would pay no mind when they first pop up, but it seemed like this club was different.

The Scarlet Letter was what it was called, Tommy had been sitting in his office at Shelby Company Ltd. when John and Arthur had come in to report about this club. Apparently, the club was showcasing a unique type of dance with its female employees, one that involved the use of a pole?

"A bloody pole?" Tommy had scoffed at the mention. "How the bloody hell are these women dancing with a pole?"

"Have to go check it out to see", Arthur had replied with a cheeky grin. "From what we've heard, this club had been making money. No ties to any gangs either."

It was a sight to see inside The Scarlet Letter, women adorned in expensive lingerie, their hair adorned in pinned curls and lips painted a deep red, but what was interesting was they work masks that concealed half their face. Literal poles were scattered throughout the place, a barmaid and bartender maned two bars on either side of the place, both busy; sofas and booth seats surrounded some of the poles, paritions in certain parts of the building.

He noticed a few heavy built men guarding certain areas, Tommy realizing they were hired help for the women.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby", a voice boomed. "What a surprise to be seeing the Peaky Blinders in my establishment!"

Y/N ran the red lipstick over her lips, smacking her lips together to get the the color saturated onto her lips. The eyelash extensions she had glued on for the evening tying the whole look together as she made sure to careful wipe away any excess around her mouth just as the boss came in.

"Ladies", she boomed, "We got some big customers outside. Make sure to put on your best performances!"

Cherry Johnson was their boss, she was a woman of a tall stature with a loud, booming voice that commanded respect. But she was a good boss, always fair to them and making sure they were safe, she only had them dance or perform lap dances, never forcing them to go any further.

Cherry came over to her as Y/N was about to fix the mask on, "Y/N, do you mind taking on a particular client here?"

"What client?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and tied the ribbon to secure it.

She saw Cherry grin in the mirror, "Thomas Shelby. Told him I'd send him only the best of my girls."

Everyone had heard of Thomas Shelby, of the Peaky Blinders so she looked at Cherry with a little frown, her lips curled a little.

"He's an obvious big tipper, darling", Cherry said, Y/N sighed.

"Fine", Y/N said as she adjusted her corset. "But he better know the rules."

Cherry grinned even bigger if that was even possible.

Y/N waited behind the curtain, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she waited for her arrival to be announced. They switched dancers every hour or so, changing sets and outfits, working the floor and private dances. She noticed that her two other co-workers, Babydoll and Lovely, were up next with her on the big stage.

"Hey there, Little Darling", Lovely said with a grin. "Heard the boss gave you some big fish to entertain."

"I just hope he isn't stingy with the tips", Y/N said as she heard Cherry begin to announce them.

"Look alive, ladies", Babydoll teased, "it's showtime."

Tommy leaned back in the plush velvet chair that was in front of the large stage, Arthur and John on either side of him as he inspected the area. Cherry, the boss, had told him that she was sending one of her best girls to dance for them, the crowd favorite, but Cherry had told him the rules and the biggest one was 'no touching'.

"Next up we got Lovely, Babydoll and your favorite... Little Darling!" Cherry announced to the eager crowd.

Tommy put his cigarette between his lips as he noticed the anticipation in John and Arthur, the eagerness in their bodies; Tommy wondered where Esme thought John was as she came out, a intricate corset and stockings piece with a garter on one plush thigh adorned her body. Pinned curls framed her masked face with those blood red, plump lips and sultry, bedroom lidded eyes that were just calling to him.

He didn't even notice his brothers be captivated by her or the other two dancers as she approached the pole, a sensual dance performed in front of him as she moved in a way he had never witnessed before. He noticed other patrons throwing... pounds? at them, the women sensually grabbing the bills and stuffing them into the attire.

"C'mon Tommy", John said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little. "Let loose a little already."

His brothers were throwing notes onto the stage, Little Darling making a show of grabbing them and stuffing them into the corset with a wink. She was like a seductress on the stage, moving with the music, performing acrobatic moves on the pole, it amazed him so as he light another cigarette and placed it in his mouth, he reached into his inner coat pocket, grabbing some bills into his hand.

Little Darling gave him a seductive smile, moving from the pole and getting to her knees, begin to crawl towards him till she reached the end of the stage where he was; she tilted her head a little before she leaned forward, making a show of grabbing his hand that held the bills and guiding it to stuffing the bills into the front of her corset where her tits were.

She winked at him before blowing him a kiss.

Y/N made a good amount of money from her dancing on the stage, counting the pounds that were thrown before passing it to Cherry to take her part.

"Good show out there, N/N", Cherry said, handing her back the money she earned. "You got a private dance with a Mr. Shelby."

Y/N nodded, rolling her shoulders back before making sure her makeup was still good before heading to one of the private rooms.

Walking into one of the private rooms, she saw him there; the dimly light room only seemed to work in the man's favor, adding to the feeling of danger that already existed in the room. He had his cap off, it resting on one of the side tables in the room as he blew out a smoke of nicotine from his lips.

"Cherry tells me you're called Little Darling", Tommy said as she closed the door behind her.

"I am", she answered as she slowly walked towards them.

"Quite the performance you put on."

She moved to straddle his lap, draping her arms his shoulders with a lazy grin on her face.

"I could see you enjoyed it, very much."

She stared into his piercing blue eyes, she could see the lust swirling in his eyes as she begun to move her hips.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #x reader #plus sized reader #chubby reader #reader insert #thomas shelby

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

Text

Sapsorrow - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist here, main Masterlist here

Word Count: 8,054

Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope. Slow-slow-slow burn. Series Inspiration link: The Storyteller Episode 8

Song Suggestions: The Green Light - Je Suis Parte

(Image Source: Here)

Your sleep that night was restless; your body awakening much before the first dawn of sunlight cracked through the dark of the night to awaken the many unique birds within the lands of Kuraigana. Their voices were yet to cry out and alert the castle and surrounding keep of the morn, yet you continue to lay sleepless amongst your plush bedsheets.

Huffing out a breath of frustration, you shook your head and rose from your reclined position against your pillows and thrust the duvet from your body. One foot falling over the mattress first, followed by the other, you slid your feet into your sleep shoes tucked beneath your large bed and hoisted yourself to your feet. Reaching over to your armchair, your fingers found your lengthy silk negligée and wrapped it around your body and tied it firmly around your front. The lengthy pale sleeves draped around your wrists, you found your hairbrush and began angrily detangling your sleep-deprived hair from their matts.

Why did he look at you like that? Why was he so intimately holding you? Why did your breath hitch as your eyes met? His eyes, the amber hue bearing such intensity and longing- was that what it was? Surely you were mistaken. Those were the thoughts keeping you from a blissful slumber, clawing like a beast at the walls of their cage, the thoughts rendered you paralyzed and incapable of rest.

You angrily thrust your hairbrush down within your firm grip, a loud clack of the metal base echoing against your vanity benchtop. You clenched your eyes firmly shut, pursing your lips and biting back a frustrated scream.

It had been years since any action was outside the realms of your control, this one being the first to draw a physical outburst to occur since you were a teenager. You sucked in a deep breath while closing your eyes, rotating your neck to rid it of its sleep-deprived, rigor-mortis akin stiffness. Reopening your eyes, your pupils narrowed in as you focussed on your puffed eye-bags below your irises.

“You came here to do a job. You are a governess,” you reassured yourself, affirming yourself sternly in the mirror, “You are strong. You are safe. It is just a job.” Your looped affirmations continued as you attempted to repress memories from arising, but to no avail. You knit your brows together, shaking your head to rid the memories from coming to light before your eyes before the sun was yet to create the dawn.

“You are in control here,” you again spoke aloud, rising from your seated position against your vanity. You claimed a small unlit lantern hanging limply from the door, unhooking it from the wall and drawing out a small box of matches to ignite the flame atop the wick. Shaking the flame away from the matchstick, you discarded the small piece of twig into the basket below your desk and fled from the room causing you sleeplessness.

The halls became ignited by the small flame in your lantern, illuminating the portraiture littering the gloomy halls. Several generations of the lord you unwittingly bound yourself to with the Sapsorrow ring lay staring vacantly at you as your slippers peppered the ground with your featherfall footsteps.

You were unsure as to where your feet were carrying you until you found yourself amongst the large wooden shelves in the large library. Each book was meticulously cataloged and alphabetised, the colors on the leatherbound spines ranging from the deepest of emeralds to dark magenta with golden twine. As each of the spines of the books drew you in by their pigments and binds, your left hand unconsciously flew to the shelves and danced among the pages. Tracing upon the many spines as you wandered aimlessly amongst the shelves, your fingers met with a vacant space in the nook; your fingertips falling through the space housing a book that no longer resides within its crease.

Looking at the space for any semblance of literature navigation, you noticed you were in the section marked “S”, somewhere tucked between knowledge of Sangiovese vines and winemaking, and Sailing the uncharted waters of the grand line.

“Sapsorrow,” you spoke aloud in a small whisper, gasping as your fingers collected the moved dust, “that was what he said,” you pressed your sleep-deprived memory for a semblance of thought: “Ten rings of the Sapsorrow queen, all riddled with charm, none can break from its challenger’s gleam, or cause the commissioner harm.”

“What does that mean?” you gasped once more, drawing up your fingertips to look at the dust collected, rolling the powder and webs within your hand, “there’s ten of them. What is a Sapsorrow? Ten of them?” you looked down onto the moss-coloured stone sitting innocently atop its golden circlet of destiny, “Like ten fingers?”

Turning again to the bookshelf and looking at the vacant space against the shelves, you huffed out another breath of exasperation and grumbled; “It would have been useful to have a book on the matter. Perhaps that is what my betrothed-,” you rolled your eyes at the taste of the title over your palate, "-is doing with the book. If there even is one.”

You growled beneath your breath, another attempt at ridding yourself of the memories of the night prior. It was dancing behind your closed eyes slower than it occurred in reality. Each small brush of his fingertips over your body as he took your measurements, the small rasp in his voice as he spoke to you, his humility in joining his forehead against your own, and the way he held you against himself. You were going mad, reading into something that was truly not there.

Shaking your head and breathing in deeply, you attempted to calm yourself down and reached for the nearest book at the end of the row. Your brows furrowed as you looked at the title, a small curious smile prickling at the corners of your cheeks.

“Waltzing: A Pirate’s Guide to Entangling with the Upper Classes,” you spoke, your eyes lightening as your smile deepened. You examined the books cover for any other information, finding no further explanation, “there’s no author? Curiouser and curiouser.”

You took the book to the corner of the room, sitting atop a plush crimson armchair and placing your lantern on the side table to illuminate the corner of the room. You huddled against the suede arm of the chair, bringing the pages closer to the light as you turned the first chapter: “Swords and Steps.” Your face became more bright as diagrams of pirate gentleman holding his sword upright and extended, followed by the placement of an ornately dressed woman spinning within his arms; the imagery of the evening’s prior events falling away from you the further you dove into the pages.

The lantern’s wick began to flicker, the candle warning you it was in its final moments as the hours in the library began to fall away from you. You were barely aware of the dawn beginning to filter through the curtains, the first light a warm pink dusting the marble floor with its presence. The only sense able to bring you from your hypnosis within the pages was the scent of the extinguished wick as the stale smoke danced over the benchtop.

Shaking your head, you attempted to again return to the present as you closed the pages of the book together and rose to your feet; hastily sauntering over to the aisles to return it to its rightful position within the shelves. You didn’t even know where to begin navigating the halls, unsure how you managed to draw yourself from your wing into the library to begin with. The patter of your heart began thumping heavily against your ribcage, anxiety raising at the thought of being caught within your bed clothes by a member of staff, or worse: Zoro and Perona.

As the light of the sun began awakening the walls you wandered earlier, a strange mud-covered silhouette of a person holding a bouquet of flowers at eye level remained in the sunlight cascading over the front marble steps. They were picking at the thorns, clipping the stems and arranging the florals and vines in a fashionable style with pliers and ribbons of twine wrapping around the amassment of petals.

The figure almost didn’t look human; bipedal humanoid, surely, but not human. The amount of dirt, muck, fur and feathers eclipsing their body under their cluster made them look beastly. You heard a deep rumbly hum, the creature before you appearing to be singing softly to themselves a tune you could not recognise. This was the only clue that allowed you to presume their gender, the smoothness of their deep voice almost serenading you with its comfort. Rolling slightly on your heels to rid yourself of your nerves, you cautiously approached the figure while holding your arms laced over your chest to shield his view from your sleep-clothes.

“Excuse me, sir?” you called to them, their body’s stiffening in response and raising the flowers up further to cover their face, “No need for alarm, I am the Governess here.” He seemed to remain statuesque, rigid in his stance and not making a sound. You grew more curious, stepping forward again to get a better look at the arrangement, noticing it was similar to the ones placed atop your table and decorating your room.

“I know who you are, my lady,” he spoke slowly. His cadence seemed familiar to you, albeit his face was hidden, “You should not be up at this hour. Is there something troubling you?” You were taken aback by his direct approach, but it was a welcome surprise.

“I was unable to sleep, sir. My thoughts are my own, although I have been having trouble ruling over them of late,” you replied honestly. He nodded behind the flowers, your eyes trailing over him and studying his attire. He was clad in hessian pants, his boots trekking mud into the cobblestone galley. His torso was clad in a pale linen with mud, sticks and leaves masking the pigment of his skin from your eyes with how heavily caked he was beneath the thick sludge.

“If I may be so bold as to ask for your help,” you asked him, stepping further into his proximity. The scent falling off him in waves was the earthiness of the mud mixed with the petals clutched over his face. As you drew in closer, you noticed he was wearing a broad straw hat, his face shielded by the wide brim, while his nose and lips were covered by a piece of woven cloth. He held his sight fixed to his hands, electing not to make eye contact with you.

“You may ask anything of me, my lady,” he responded, his eyes remaining holding to the floor beneath him. You allowed a soft smile to rise against your lips, a small sigh electing to release itself from your chest at his candor.

“I am unaware of my surroundings. I have been here a fortnight now, this being the first night I have opted to explore the grounds rather than remaining sleepless in my bedchambers,” you confessed to him, nodding as you spoke, “I have no idea where my wing is from here, and I assume you are a member of staff here.”

“I am something of the like, my lady,” he admitted to you, nodding while actively listening to your words as they fled from your lips, “I admit I was on my way to your chambers presently.” Your eyes widened, looking at the bouquet clutched firmly within his hands then back to his face.

“So, I’ve finally caught the culprit,” you laughed at him, “just as you have caught me in naught but my nightdress. Those are meant for me, are they not?” His rigidity did not halt, nor the tingle in his fingertips dancing amongst the vines.

“You’re the one who brings the ever changing arrangements to my bedchambers, am I correct in my assumption?” you asked him while fixing your gaze on the white puffs of roses clutched within his muddy fingertips.

“That you are, my lady,” he again admitted, bowing in a low stoop as a performer would to receive their applause. You smiled warmly, reaching for his forearm and lacing your right arm within his.

“Chaperone me,sir. Please lead me to return to my wing,” you asked him with a small laugh, uncaring for the dirt falling from his sleeve onto your own.

“I will make a mess of the halls, my lady. I should not be above the cellars while dressed like this,” he spoke in a warning tone, “I don’t enjoy cleaning up the boot prints I trek in at this hour.”

“Tush,” you dismissed his warning, tugging at his forearm, “I cannot wait for you to strip yourself of your tarnished clothes, bathe and escort me to my wing. I am in my nightdress, sir,” His eyes widened at your comment, his eyes almost holding a honey color displayed from its angle to you.

“I would not desire tarnishing your own clothes with my mess, my lady,” he sighed as you both witnessed some mud falling from his shirt onto your sheer chemise. You smiled at his halt while bringing your other hand to fall atop his dirt-caked forearm. “Please, sir. I cannot have the lord of the house seeing me like this. Nor our shared wards.”

“Is not the lord of your house your betrothed?” he asked you, his brows furrowing as he spoke his warning.

“That he is, sir,” you nodded your confirmation while laughing once more, “all the more reason for the both of us to scurry on to my wing so we can both be rid of this predicament.” He hummed in response, shaking his head slightly with a small chuckle. You sighed in relief as he began to shepherd you towards your room, your body physically relaxing aside his as he guided you through the halls. You made idle conversation, the morning rising alongside the chirps of local birds warning you the day has been broken and to be thrust into your day.

“How long have you been working the land here in Kuraigana? Your arrangements speak wonders to your skill, sir,” you praised him, watching as his smile began to upturn in the creases of his eyes. His nose and lips remained hidden beneath a woven cloth, his eyes being the only human part you could gauge the emotions of.

“I have been working with agriculture since I first laid eyes on the keep. There’s something about the soil here that is particularly riveting. The grapes thrive here,” he expressed with such unbridled passion, you could feel his joy at working the soil of the gloomy land, “they grow large, their skin dense and firm. Perfect for a variety of vines and vintages.”

“A viticulturist also? My, you have an array of talents. What do you grow here?” you ushered him to continue expressing his passion, your interest in the land growing by the interaction with the creature guiding you to your wing.

“I do enjoy watching the vines grow, yes. I also have had a hand in crafting the varieties into wine,” he admitted, nodding beneath his wide, straw hat.

“A wild ferment, perhaps? A malolactic for chardonnay and sangiovese?” you asked him, prodding him and probing with your pointed questions. He chuckled at your comments, shaking his head at your comments.

“You are well versed in the art of conversation, my lady,” he commented accusingly, with a small whisper of humor beneath his words, “you need not humor me with your polite words.”

“Sir,” you furrowed your brows at the creature, halting your steps, “if I was not interested in your craft, I would not be asking so many questions,” your confession rendered him almost speechless. You chuckled at his surprise, once again allowing your feet to fall in pace towards your chambers.

“To further spur how truly interested I am in what you have to say, I would simply hum and nod to showcase my active listening while not asking questions,” you continued, your warm smile continuing to power your words, “my favorite phrase to use in that particular situation is: ‘that certainly sounds interesting’.”

He chuckled at your comment as he continued leading you to your chambers, the door within your sight as he unlaced his arm from within yours and opened your front door for you.

“A gentleman amongst the staff of Kuraigana?” you praised him with your words, prompting him to hand his head with a small huffed chuckle at your words.

“I aim to be, my lady,” he uttered, walking within your bedchambers and beginning to remove the prior arrangement of flowers atop your desk and replace it with another arrangement. Unbothered by his presence in your chamber, you began tending to yourself by finding an appropriate uniform for the day and hooking it over your changing screen beside your bed. You continued to hear his footfalls against the room adjacent to yours, yourself feeling secure behind the screen enough to begin changing into your uniform to begin your day.

You threw off your chamise, followed by your night dress, slippers and socks before weaving yourself into your chosen attire for the day. A simple long dress, practical in nature with a cinched waist and a modest neckline: exactly how a governess should be seen by members of the household staff, not scantily clad in your bed attire.

“I am heading out, my lady,” the strange chaperone informed you, prompting you to hasten your pace of lacing your boots.

“Wait, sir. Allow me to thank you for escorting me back to my wing,” you called to him, hastily making your way towards the table setting in front of you. The flowers were breathtaking, this one filled with difficult to collect flowers with sweet scents and crystal-like dew drops. You carefully selected one from the bunch, a simple bushel of baby’s breath clutched between your fingertips as you carefully pried it from its place amongst the bouquet.

“This one is for you, sir. Thank you for aiding me in my time of need,” you presented the small bushel of flowers to him; his muddy hand coming out to collect it within his discolored fingertips.

“Thank you for your kindness, my lady,” he nodded in a small bow, your fingers brushing together slightly at his withdrawal.

“What may I call you, sir? Surely you have a name, and I would like to know I have a friend here in Kuraigana while I work,” you asked him, your trail of intellect deducing the flurry of thoughts, “or would you prefer to be known simply as ‘Farm-hand’?”

“Farm-hand,” he repeated back to you, his voice almost laughing, “Farm-hand is fine to me, my lady.”

“If you are to go by this name, please bestow one of a similar likeness to me, Farm-Hand,” you laughed at his candor, as you reached for the metal hairbrush you were using earlier and began hastily smoothing over your tangled locks.

“If I am to be Farm-Hand,” he thought hard, a small hum exiting from his chest, “you ought to be ‘Lost-Lady’. Considering it is too much of a mouthful to address you as ‘woman clad in naught but her nightdress’.”

You laughed again at his comment, before guiding his muddied form outside of your bedchambers.

“Until tomorrow's flowers, Farm-Hand,” you stooped in your low courtesy and offered him your left hand. He accepted it, bringing down his forehead to brush against the back of your hand atop your knuckles.

“Until the morrow, Lost-Lady,” he raised his forehead from his bowed position and watched as you turned back into your chambers to continue readying yourself for the day, the door shutting with a small click behind you.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Mihawk was frozen, his dirtied hands rolling over the small white flowers within his fingertips. He hooked his hand against his mask, drawing back the material to taste the air once more without the filter of material or mud. His beard was no longer scratching behind the mask, the flavor of the air feeling all the more sweet. As he twirled the flowers within his fingers, he sighed at the innocent object dancing in his hand.

His left hand shook, feeling the warm tingles of the memories of your flesh joining briefly with his as he clutched yours within his fingers. The ghost of radiant heat against his forehead remained alongside the memory of such a warmth you presented to him, a presumed low-ranking member of his staff.

He looked down at his attire, the mud covering his body causing him to physically hiss out a verbal reprimand at himself.

“So stupid to lose footing beneath the vines,” he chastised his appearance, “especially to collect the insignificant little baby’s breath-.” His words halted as he drew up the pale flowers you had gifted him in return once more, a soft smile rising to his lips.

“What have I ever done in this life to deserve such sweetness?” he whispered to himself, a sighed laugh falling from his lips as he shook his head.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Sitting with the young pink haired debutante in the courtyard, you noticed her eyes were glazed; her far off expression alerting you to her being not overly present for this afternoon’s private lesson.

“Perona, dear?” you called to her, placing your cup back on the saucer. She hummed in response, slowly blinking her eyes but remaining away with the ghosts that haunt her. You sighed deeply, rising to your feet and moving behind your chair. You slowly wedged the chair beneath the circular dining table and walked over to crouch in front of her.

“Perona,” you softly spoke, reaching to claim her hands laced within her lap beneath your palm. She squeaked, looking down into your eyes and uttered a hasty, “yes, my lady?”

“There you are, you’re back,” you smiled at her, prompting a blush to rise and litter her pale cheeks with its hue. You smoothed your thumb over her knuckles to reassure her she wasn’t keeping you waiting.

“I’m sorry my lady, they-,” she began, rapidly blinking as she attempted to articulate her thoughts to place them within the air verbally, “-they have been saying some unusual things to me. It’s been a bit tricky to ignore them.” You quirked your head to the side, not completely processing what she was admitting to you.

“Oh?” You prodded her, rising to your feet and tugging lightly on her hand to usher her to her feet, “and what do they have to say today? Only good things, I hope.” Her teeth drew outwards in a straight line, cringing out a small apprehensive wince of a smile.

“Not exactly,” she admitted while rising to her feet in front of you. Her smile only drew more apprehension from you, curiosity now being eclipsed by concern at her words. You nodded to her to continue relaying her thoughts to you, her nodding while adding; “they say he’s found a way. Something about the moon being first, I think. Help? He’s getting help- no-... asking for help? They’re not making much sense.”

You knit your brows further in the center of your forehead, her words not drawing any conclusion to your already troubled mind from sleeplessness earlier.

“A beast? No... A Crocodile has the moon?” she nodded with her eyes shut tightly, focusing on the voices as they presented themselves to her. She continued shaking her head, the many voices falling over her mind and corrupting her thoughts with their nonsensical visions.

“Perona,” you called to her, her aura beginning to turn a different hue to indicate her beginning to be overwhelmed by other worldly voices. You took both of her hands in yours and gave them a firm squeeze, “Perona, sweetheart.” She opened her eyes, glossy and a different hue than her usual vibrancy.

“The moon,” she uttered, “the moon has commenced.”

“Perona!” your voice held an elevated firmness to your tone, immediately snapping her from her daze and coming back to the world she views as reality.

“I’m sorry, Governess,” she uttered quickly, bowing her head to you and beginning to tremble a little, “they’ve just been enthusiastic lately. They are very interested in that.” She nodded to your left hand, your ring shining its smoked, green gemstone within the sunlight.

“They say,” she teeters off her voice, shaking her head as the voices begin to eclipse her form and shroud her mind with their nonsensical visions. She allowed herself to snap out of it, taken aback by their final informational relay, “there’s a party? Oh! And there’s a dress for you.”

The blood in your face physically leapt from your head and paled. He’d done it. He’d made the first dress, the doom of your wedding day approaching with more haste than you would have desired. You were to be a bride, donned in dresses of the finest make and forced down the aisle with the knife of destiny thrust against your back to usher you onwards-.

“-Not one of those, my lady,” Perona broke you from your thoughts, her eyes wide and serious as they met with your widened gaze. She gently squeezed your hands within her own, reassuring you with her kind expression, “they say the party is to announce your engagement, and Mihawk has had a dress made especially for you to wear to it.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, the color once again returning to your cheeks. Perona giggled at your apprehension, lacing her arms within your own and beginning to draw you closer to the sage-colored hedge-ends to look over the impressive grounds of Kuraigana.

“You want to go and see it? They say he has it ready for you, if you like,” she shrugged, her enthusiasm sparking at the corners of her cheeks as she physically began to shake with anticipation. You allowed a softness to fall over your body, your young debutante beginning to break down your walls and squeeze herself into the realms of personal friendship.

“I think I will wait until he sends for me,” you smiled at her, “for now, we need to continue with your lessons.”

“Why, my lady?” she whined, a small semblance of childish anger falling from her pouted lips, “I don’t want a husband, I don’t want to be a lady.”

“Do you desire to wear beautiful gowns, dance with handsome men and woo them with your radiant beauty?” you sighed, your eyes rolling with a soft smirk arising against your lips. She immediately snapped out of her childish tantrum.

“Yes, my lady,” she softly spoke while nodding, her pink-hair bouncing with the gentle bob of her head.

“Then lessons in being a lady are to continue until I’m satisfied you are able to showcase my reputation alongside your own,” you chastised her with your smirk rising into a pleasant smile.

“Yes, my lady,” Perona sighed, beginning to lead you throughout the beautifully maintained hedge-ends. The map of the maze lay unpolished, dust and dirt falling over the sign and making the object unable to be read.

“I shall talk to the Farm-Hand about that tomorrow,” you spoke under your breath. Perona looked to the side, conversing with an astral projection beside her, “We have a farm-hand? I thought that was-... oh…”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“WHAAAAAAAA-?” the den-den-mushi split the lord of Kuraigana’s eardrum with the verbal cry form the other end of the transmission.

“Silence your incessant screaming, Clown,” Mihawk growled into the receiver.

“You called Me, Hawk-Eyes,” the voice called on the other end, Mihawk’s migraine beginning to worsen its throb against his temples. He should never have done this, requested aid like this. From them.

“That I did, Clown,” he admitted in a defeated sigh, bringing his index and middle fingers up to rotate around his temple.

“Stop calling me ‘Clown’. I have a name,” the voice spat back at the gloomy warlord as he sat neatly dressed against his desk, “and if you’re calling in a favor, I require to have my full title spoken to me.” Mihawk sighed again, his defeated eyes closing as his humility began to overcome his body.

“Captain Buggy D Clown,” Mihawk uttered darkly into the microphone at the end of the den-den-mushi, “I need you to make something for me. I know you can do it, I’ve seen something similar at your big-top. It needs to be starlight. A gown for a bride as radiant as the stars that litter the night sky. A dress so spectacularly clustered with diamonds of glittery stars, people would be amazed that something so beautiful could be found within the realms of mortality.”

A brief pause occurred, static from the other end of the receiver before the clown once again spoke up.

“Mihawk, baby,” the voice taunted him, “you had me at ‘I need you’.”

At that, the other end of the receiver clicked to indicate the end of the conversation, the clown striking a bargain with the darkened lord of Kuraigana, who’s very core was wrecked with absolute hopelessness.

“Two calls down,” he sighed, rotating his neck to rid it of the tension arising within it, “the drunken red-head is next.”

Lord Dracule Mihawk understood this undertaking was seemingly impossible, the three gowns he was to present to his governess- …no, his betrothed, was no easy feat. He did not initially intend on asking for aid, but his resources and contacts were depleted with such haste, there was no way he would be able to commence such an undertaking on his own.

The Crocodile managed to sense there was a difference in his usually stoic and disinterested demeanor, which prompted Mihawk to relay his troubles onto the larger gentleman. A cigar clenched within his pearled teeth, his eyes held amusement rather than their usual boredom at Mihawk’s predicament.

“I have some material you may enjoy, former warlord,” he spoke with such confidence, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the notion he had something to hold over the golden-eyed swordsman, “a shipment delivered balls of silk and satins to my keep. Pale as the coldest chill of the first drops of winter,” his taunts continued as he blew a puff of cigar smoke into Mihawk’s face, “it almost looked as radiant as the moon.”

“Almost,” Mihawk spat, his eyes narrowed and anger growing more tangible, “almost will not do. It needs to be exact, precise, executed to the highest quality for my bride-.”

“-Your Bride? Mihawk,” Sir Crocodile’s sinister grin split his reptilian face upwards, “You never took me as the type to marry. Concubines? Of course. They have their uses. But Bride?” He removed his cigar from his teeth and pressed the butt-end with his thumb into the ashtray, “A Bride to the lord of Kuraigana. She must be some woman.”

“Indeed, that she is,” he admitted, his anger only remaining within its elevation at the taunts from the larger man. Sir Crocodile hummed, stooping lower to Mihawk’s stature, and smiled further upwards to crinkle his cheeks.

“I will have it made for you, Hawk-Eyes,” he hissed into his face, his shadow from his larger stature doing nothing to intimidate the confident swordsman, “and I expect a favor in return for it. Send her measurements to me, and I will have a hundred hands stitching it for you.”

“Mihawk, you gloomy old prick, that you? What are you calling me for at this hour?” the lazy voice of the overly confident red-headed captain asked at the other end of the receiver. Mihawk sighed, his anxiety at requesting the final object from his oldest rival getting the better of him the longer he remained in silence.

“Mihawk, if you don’t speak soon, I’m going to hang up the call and go back to my drinking-” Shank’s voice was halted by Mihawk uttering a single word.

“Lingerie.” Silence. Naught a word was spoken for several seconds; the anxiety elevating higher in Mihawk’s chest the longer the silence remained stagnant. An uproar of laughter was thrust into the receiver, several members of the red-hair pirates thrusting their jovial laughter into the air at a single word. As the laughter stifled back, Shanks spoke up once more.

“Lingerie, Mihawk? You want some lingerie? Is it for you, or is it for you?” the red-head captain jested, taunting the dark-haired warlord with his words. Mihawk shook his head, notably too far deep now to pull away from his request now.

“Red-Haired Shanks,” Mihawk began, the verbal shushing from the redhead on the other end to hush his crew to silence as he heard the request of the former warlord.

“Yes, old Hawkie? Go on, relay your request for intimate items onto me. See what I can do with your raunchy thoughts, you sick bastard-.” Shanks’ words were halted as he heard the tone of voice depicted by the usually stoic gentleman.

“Sapsorrow, Shanks,” Mihawk gasped in desperation. The audible sound of the thud of footsteps and the voices of the crew fell away from the speaker, indicating the redhead was actively moving away from the campground.

“You still have that thing? Mihawk, you should’ve cast the cursed thing into the seas. Mine was at least swallowed by the sea-beast while I protected the boy,” Shanks hushed an elevated whisper into the receiver.

“I know,” Mihawk uttered, his brows knitting further into his face as he cursed himself of such stupidity. After another moment of silence, Shanks spoke again.

“And your betrothed requested Lingerie to be a condition of her intention to wed. My, Hawk-Eyes, you’ve at least got a good one,” he chuckled into the receiver, “go on, lay it on me. What conditions needs to be met with this one?”

“Gold,” Mihawk confessed into the mouthpiece of the receiver, “Gold as heated and radiant as the sun, beams of dawn and cracks of dusk. Admittedly, I am unsure where to begin with this request.” More silence followed on the other end of the receiver, Mihawk feeling the anxiety once again claw at his throat with anticipation.

“Do you have her-... I’m assuming it’s a her, yes?” Shanks asked, his voice giddy and boyish; elevated with a twinkle of mischief and excitement.

“Yes,” Mihawk hummed his gruff confession into the receiver.

“Hah!” Shanks laughed triumphantly, “Wonderful. Do you have her measurements?” Mihawk relayed his governess’ measurements to the one-armed Captain, hearing the thump of sandals footsteps falling against the sandy shores of Shank’s island’s shores, crunching beneath his heels.

“Beckmann,” Shanks called his voice away from the receiver, “Beckmann, you’re not going to believe this-... Mihawk, give me a moment, would you? Beckmann!” Mihawk’s expression was not amused, his eyes narrowing beneath his lengthy dark eyelashes.

“Beckmann, bring me my anvil, pliers and soldering pick! All the gold we’ve got on us and then some-... Mihawk,” Shanks laughed into the receiver, his voice brimming with absolute glee, “Oh, Mihawk. You’ve made my day.”

“I’m glad one of us is getting a semblance of joy from this request,” Mihawk sarcastically spat into the receiver.

“Oh, lighten up. You’ll be getting some joy out of this once I’m done with it, Hawkie,” Shanks laughed again into the mouthpiece, several clangs and elevated voices being spoken into the mouthpiece.

“All the gold on us, Captain? That seems a bit rich comin’ from him. Isn’t he a lord or somethin’?” Beckmann’s raspy voice held a distant quietness away from the mouthpiece.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna make something out of it, Becks. Lingerie for the sword-wielding lord’s future misses. Gotta get out the good stuff for this one-... Hawk-Eyes, are you still there?” Shanks called back into the receiver, Mihawk feeling his anxiety beginning to calm at the notion that Shanks was willing to participate in the task.

“I’m here, one-arm,” Mihawk lazily drawled into the microphone, exasperation relayed on every syllable. Shanks chuckled at his title, disregarding it with glee.

“I’m gonna make your future misses something you will both never forget,” He laughed into the transponder, his boyish charm prompting the swordsman to almost crack a small and apprehensive smile.

As the call of the den-den-mushi went quiet, Mihawk sighed and lulled his head back on his arched backrest. He felt relieved to have the weight of his predicament shared with his allies, but also apprehensive at the requests they would omit from him in return. And the teasing. He loathed being on the receiving end of taunts and jabs from the three of them, particularly the idiot clown.

He propped his neck back upright and glanced his amber eyes over to the desktop, honing in on the small bushel of baby’s breath you had offered him earlier. He reached his fingertips forward, his index finger and thumb grasping the twig holding the cluster of white flowers.

“Lost-Lady,” he smiled at the innocent balls of petals clinging against the sprigs. He chuckled at your earlier interaction, how open you were with him about your feelings of late. He was already thinking of another arrangement to create to decorate your halls with his flowers and vines: sweet jasmine, honeysuckle, bluebells and daisies were amongst his choices for your following tabletop. Much less of a risk of becoming covered head to toe in mud again.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“M’Lady, Hawk’s lookin’ for ya,” Zoro huffed a small grunt, extending his left forearm to you as you and Perona entered the galley. You shook your head at Zoro, your eyes glaring at him to wordlessly reprimand his pronunciation of your title. He furrowed his brows at first, before his eyes widened in clarity as it dawned on him. He shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes within his skull and bowing sloppily and lowly to you.

“Forgive me, my lady,” His voice, absolutely dripping with the sticky molasses of sarcasm, “I extend my most sincere apologies, my lady. Would my lady prefer me to kneel on the ground to receive a verbal reprimand, or dost my lady prefer me bent over her lap? Perhaps at such an insult to my lady, I should be drawn and quartered. A cat and nine tails whipping their iron slashes into my chest for insulting you in such a way, my lady-.”

“-That’s quite enough, Zoro,” you reprimanded him, unlacing your hand from within Perona’s arched elbow. Your brow descended into the middle of your face, your chin extended into the air as you circled him, “and here I thought you were making waves as a gentleman, but you are remaining evermore a petulant brat.”

“I aim to please, my lady,” the corner of his lip curled upwards into a small smirk. Perona refused to react to the situation for fear attention from her governess would be drawn to her rather than the display offered by Zoro.

“You are doing a poor job it today, Trainee,” you snarled at him, causing his smirk to widen as his eyes narrowed at your challenge.

“Bein’ a gentleman?” Zoro scoffed at you, his lip darting out to dampen his bottom lip as he tested you further.

“Pleasing me,” you quipped back, your challenging eyes and candor immediately bringing a warm blush up the swordsman’s neck and teasing the lobes of his ears. He remained speechless, Perona allowing a silent giggle to threaten to pour over her lips. As the silence began to build with tense air, you clicked your neck and approached the young swordsman.You were now within a foot of the tall gentleman in training, continuing to warn him with your expression.

The three of you were so caught up in this moment of challenge, you remained blissfully ignorant yet again to the silent approach of the lord of the house watching from the shadows. He was on the edge of his hypothetical seat as he witnessed Zoro challenge you, but now watching on with amusement at how you were effortlessly managing him.

“Try again,” you ordered him. There was not a sound that dared break your challenge of the green-haired swordsman within the galley. He sighed deeply, bowing his head formally to you and closing his eyes.

“My lady,” he uttered slowly and cautiously, “the lord of Kuraigana has requested your presence in the parlor. Perona and I are to escort you to meet with the formal dressmakers for a fitting.” He almost made it through the sentence before allowing his distaste for the whole situation known.

“We’re all to have a fitting?” Perona squeaked in joy, “We all get a pretty outfit for it?”

“Yeah,” Zoro huffed, his brows falling against the arch of his nose to indicate his displeasure, “we’re all meant to get one.for it. He’s invited everyone already. They’ll be here by the weekend.” You allowed a shocked breath to escape your chest, not understanding such haste in such a ceremony.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, closing your eyes in deep thought before speaking again.

“Zoro,” you began, calming your body and attempting to regain control of your uncontrollable circumstances, “escort Perona to the parlor for her fitting. I will be going to my chambers for a small moment,” you cringed a small smile, attempting to stifle the anxiety by gritting through the pain, “unless the lord of the house is here to escort me himself, I will need a moment or two to myself-.”

At that small apprehension, Mihawk made his entrance to where the three of you had met within the galley. Perona withheld her small smile behind her palms, her upturned eyes doing nothing to satisfy her amusement and joy at the swordsman approaching them. Zoro followed Perona’s eyes to lord Mihawk, which in turn alerted you to his presence approaching behind you. You felt the waves of his confident aura falling from him before you turned to meet his gaze. He cleared his throat briefly, honing his gaze on the green-haired swordsman and addressing him.

“You heard your Governess,” he commanded him, turning to Perona and nodding to her, “Off you go to the parlor. Ensure the spatchcock is properly feathered, Perona.”

“Yes, my lord,” she chuckled, taking Zoro’s arm and immediately springing in her steps towards the parlor without a word from Zoro regarding his new bird-related nickname. You remained stationary and rigid in the galley, your chin extended outwards and tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth. Eyes narrowed, you felt him circle your body like a hawk looking over their next catch.

“I have come to inform you,” he began, remaining behind your back and away from your sight, “I have announced our intentions to wed. There is to be a ball this weekend, held here at the keep,” he paused his words, the tap of his feet indicating his approach in front of you. You closed your eyes, feeling waves of anxiety again rising over your body and filling your head with the thoughts that swirled well into the night. You remained with your eyes tightly closed, clenching your jaw behind your closed lips.

“Betrothed?” He addressed you, halting his prowling in front of you. He extended his hands above your own, hovering over where you had them hanging together in front of you but refusing to bring them down to touch yours. You opened your eyes, your brows furrowing as you looked down at his hand slowly descending and hovering above your own before snapping your gaze back against his amber-colored eyes.

“Yes, Betrothed?” You asked him, eyes dancing between his irises and searching within them for an indication as to how he was feeling. He sighed, finally bringing his hands down to collect yours and smooth his thumbs over your knuckles softly. You were again taken aback by his softness, unsure as to which place this was coming from.

“Is there someone I could invite for you to make this transition easier for you?” he whispered in a low rumbly tone, “it is quite the conundrum: coming here to complete a job, only to find yourself bound to your employer in matrimony. What can I do? You may ask anything of me, my lady-... Betrothed.”

Your heart began to race your mind with how frantic and sudden this expression of care for you had been brought on. You took your time to study his face, looking from his brows to his cheekbones, bearded jaw down to his smooth lips beneath his manicured mustache. You drew your gaze back up to his amber-hued orbs and danced your gaze between them.

“I have no one, Betrothed,” you admitted with a small nod, placing one of your palms atop his hand, “you knew this of me from back when I first tutored that arrogant blond boy in shells-town with his iron-jawed father. We discussed this at the gala.” Mihawk arched his brow upwards, deep in thought.

“Remind me, Betrothed, the mention has fled from me presently,” he asked, bringing his other hand to rest atop the one you just placed atop his. You inhaled deeply, exhaling out your tension at the memory.

“No father, no mother,” you smiled at him, “no sisters, nor brothers. Although, you may be interested in my dowry,” scoffing at the comment, Mihawk rolled his eyes and nodded his chin for you to continue on. “My mother died birthing me, my father died of illness on the road as he ventured over the estate.”

“No friends, nor extended relations?” He inquired, drawing up your hand to lace within his elbow, leading you on towards the parlor at a leisurely pace.

“None that are alive, nor that you would not already know, I’m sure,” you commented with a polite nod, “you did attend many of the functions I presented my students at.” He hummed in response to your comment, continuing to fall in step with you through the hallways onwards.

“No former lover to come knocking on my door, betrothed?” Mihawk’s curiosity pulled at the corner of his lip with his brow arched upwards. You halted your step with him, pulling him to a halt and shooting him a warning look. As his eyes met with yours, he understood the tangible emotion clawing at your chest.

“If you are asking what I think you are asking, sir,” you snarled at him, your lip curling upwards at his question, “I am a lady.” His eyes widened at your comment, searching your face for any further emotion to depict your unspoken confession.

“I did not mean to pry into your personal-,” he was halted by your words as you spoke over him, your eyes softening and a small smile rising to your lips at his attempt to flee from an uncomfortable situation he created for himself.

“This title we have been using to address each other,” you commented, again keeping in step with the tall swordsman at your side, “I am no longer comfortable with our mutual use of the phrase. Shall we dream up something else more appropriate together?”

Mihawk’s breath caught in his throat, hoping you did not catch such a quiver of anticipation falling from him. Why did you have such a hold over him? Why was the way you were speaking to him affecting him like this? Your voice, that sweetness you held in your cadence. It was intoxicating.

“I am sure we will think of something,” he held tight his jaw and remained outwardly stoic. Internally; he was delighting in your willingness to allow him to think of you. You gently squeezed his forearm in support, walking in comfortable silence towards the parlor together.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Zoro’s arms were horizontally outstretched, perpendicular to the floor as the tailors began to pin and prod the material he was trying on. Perona beamed at her reflection, her eyes reflecting her joy at the trim and frill of her fine gown. Zoro smirked, closing his eyes and addressing his peer.

“Mihawk’s infatuation is starting to spill out, isn’t it. He’s not even hiding it anymore,” He chuckled, Perona immediately laughing at the comment before retorting her own comments on the matter.

“Speak for yourself, Moss,” Perona continued to giggle, “your little crush isn’t as hidden as you think it is, either.”

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