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#where now the Pitchers are in danger
sarahs-library · 3 months
Note
hi! i hope your having a good day 😊 you said you were taking requests so i have one if you dont mind! could you do something were az and reader are interrupted after they accept the bond by someone, maybe elain and she's upset and it causes issues? thanks!
Hey,
This is my first request so please be gentle with me if it isn't exactly what you were looking for. Also I'm sorry this sat in my inbox for so long, I wasn't sure exactly how to go about writing this one; I eventually decided on making it as dramatic as possible. 😅 So in true form, this is written mostly from our drama king Rhys' POV but there is some Reader POV fluff at the end. I wasn't sure where you stood with smut, so I've kept it relatively open to interpretation at the end.
Get Out!
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Maybe being so secretive about your relationship with Azriel wasn't the best idea after all.
Word count: 5,090
Rhys POV
Rhys adjusted his grip on the blade in his hand as it clashed with Cassian's, the keen of metal against metal filled the training room. Sweat burned his eyes as he heaved air into his lungs. Cassian's grin bordered on feral as they separated, circling each other. Rhys hadn't realised how long it had been since he'd trained properly, but he could feel it in the ache of his muscles.
"Fatherhood making you soft, Rhys?"
Rhys rolled his eyes, hoping that Cassian didn't notice he couldn't muster more of a response between gasped breaths and fending off his attacks. They'd been at it for hours. Cassian was right, in between High Lord duties and trying to spend every possible moment with his son, resolute on not missing a single milestone, Rhys had certainly neglected his training regime. And now his brother was making him pay for it.
A blade whistled dangerously close to his face. Rhys managed to bring his own up in time to stop the blow as the force of it reverberated down his arm. He ducked out of Cassian's reach, staying firmly on the defensive while his brother eyed him with mirth. Cassian made a show of surveying Rhys slowly as he began to advance again, eyes trailing down his body and settling for a moment on the tight muscles of his abdomen. He clucked his tongue in disapproval.
"Just because Feyre loves you, doesn't mean you can let yourself go so much." Rhys dodged as Cassian swung towards his side, levelling him with a strike of his own which was blocked with ease. Cassian smirked at him as their blades locked, Rhys bared his teeth in a snarl as he forced Cassian's blade back.
A gentle caress against the fortress of his mental shields stole his attention away from his brother for a moment. Cassian smacked the flat face of his sword against Rhys' thigh, a strike that would likely leave a nasty bruise. Rhys opened the antechamber in his mind, built like a house of worship over the foundations of his mating bond with Feyre. He managed to send a small, gentle caress in return before he was drawn back to avoiding Cassian's blade.
Rhys, where are you? There was an undercurrent of worry flowing down the bond to him. It took his attention immediately. He signalled to Cassian, lowering his blade and taking a deep breath.
Training with Cass at the House. What's wrong? He was already moving as he answered, racking the blunted practice sword and retrieving his shirt from where it had been tossed earlier in the session. Cassian mimicked his movements before heading to the pitcher of water to pour two glasses.
It's Elain, something's happened.
What?
She's inconsolable. She says...that Y/N attacked her.  Surprise sparked in Rhys.
Are you sure? It didn't make any sense. You were so gentle. A junior healer under Madja's tutelage, brought in to assist with Feyre's pregnancy. You'd been visiting the River House regularly to do milestone checks on Nyx. During that time, both he and Feyre had struck up a friendship with you. He'd never seen you so much as raise your voice.
It's all she's said to us, Nesta is furious. Rhys' eyes drifted to where Cassian stood, gulping down his glass of water.
"We're needed at the River House."
Cassian raised a brow at the seriousness of the tone as he moved across the training room towards his brother.
"What happened?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure. But we should get back before Nesta goes on the warpath." Cassian considered for a moment before taking to the skies, seemingly spurred by whatever he felt down his mating bond. Rhys launched himself after his brother before sending a reassuring message to his own mate.
We're on our way.
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Elain sat nestled next to Feyre on the sofa. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as her sister rubbed soothing circles on her back. Nesta was pacing in front of the fireplace, the swish of her dress and hard clack of her heels against the hardwood felt too loud in the otherwise silent room. Rhys stood for a moment in the doorway, assessing the scene in front of him as Cassian passed him to join Nesta. She ignored him, continuing to pace.
Rhys approached his mate and Elain, settling himself on the arm of the sofa at Feyre's side. He casts an assessing gaze over the middle Archeron sister. Her other arm, the one not wiping at her face, was laid in her lap as Feyre held a compress of ice over the wrist.
Rhys let out a low sigh, running his hands through his hair as he worked through possible avenues of action. He reopened his mental connection with Feyre.
Has she said anything else? Feyre turned away from her sister where she sat staring into space.
No, Madja's on her way though. It's strange, she said she hasn't seen Y/N in days, she was supposed to be visiting her family in the Day Court. None of this makes any sense, why would Y/N do this?
Unease sat heavily in Rhys' stomach. Could something have happened to you on your travels? He thought of Braillyn and the manipulation the crown had afforded her over the minds of others. The Dread Trove was safe, was this a different horror Koschei was responsible for? Was he trying to target his family through you? It would make sense, you visited the River House regularly and both he and Feyre had left Nyx unattended in your care on more than one occasion.
He felt Madja's approach as she let herself in, inclining her head towards himself and Feyre where they sat. She settled herself on Elain's other side, reaching for her arm. Feyre moved her hand and the compress away, revealing a slight bruising and swelling on the skin underneath.
"We need to find her, she can't just attack Elain like this." Nesta's voice cut sharp as a blade across the room, Elain's tears starting fresh at her words. Madja lifted her gaze from where she was assessing Elain's wrist, tilting her hand in gentle exercises to assess the range of movement.
"Perhaps you can continue this discussion outside?" Rhys caught the pointed look the healer gave him. He nodded, standing and placing his hand on the small of Feyre's back as she did the same. Nesta watched them for a moment before stomping towards the door; disappearing into the foyer.
Feyre shot him a look, grey-blue eyes filled with worry as they moved to follow her out. Nesta continued to pace outside the room as they shut the door, the low sound of Madja's soothing voice travelling through the wood.
"We have to do something."
"Nesta, we shouldn't do anything rash." Feyre's voice was firm as she addressed her, switching smoothly from comforting sister to High Lady of the Night Court. "Not until we have more information."
"Well she," Nesta gestured towards the closed door and her distressed sister, "isn't saying anything. So I say we find Y/N and get her to tell us what happened."
Rhys was inclined to agree, but held some reservations as to what exactly Nesta deemed an appropriate method of finding out information when it pertained to the middle Archeron sister.
"Feyre's right, we shouldn't be hasty about this." He met Nesta's eyes, filled with burning silver fire. "You're too close to this," he continued. "Why don't you go back to the House, blow off some steam and we'll discuss this later when we know the full story." Cassian moved closer to Nesta's side, a comforting hand on her arm as she stared Rhys down. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another. Rhys recognised the mind-stilling technique she favoured to keep her grounded.
Her eyes were still bright with anger when she opened them again, but she seemed calmer than she had been before. She gave a small nod. Cassian tucked her under an arm as they made their way to the front door.
"We'll send for you when we know something." Cassian nodded to Rhys over his shoulder but Nesta didn't turn back to look at either of them. The door closed with a thud behind them.
Feyre looked at where her sister and brother-in-law stood a moment before. She turned, making her way down the hall Rhys study.
"What do you think we should do?"
"I'll search the city for her, we could send a note? Ask her to meet us both?" Feyre nodded in agreement.
"We should make contact with Az." Rhys considered, reluctant to disturb his brother when he'd asked for a rare week off to visit his mother in Illyria. The request had been sudden and abrupt. Az had sent word close to midnight a few days prior. He hadn't written much, other than he needed some time away from his duties and that he'd reach out to Rhys later on in the week. He had been concerned at the out of character behaviour, apprehensive that something serious must have happened. Azriel had evaded requests for more information; saying that he'd brief Rhys on his return.
"When we know more," he paused with Feyre on the threshold of the study. "I don't want to call him back when it may turn out to be nothing serious."
Feyre hummed in agreement.
"I just...I don't understand, why would she do something like this? We gave her access to our son, Rhys. She didn't seem..." Feyre trailed off. Before she could continue the sound of a throat clearing came from the kitchen door. They turned in tandem, both sets of eyes fixed on the twins that appeared out of the shadows there.
"We...We think this may be our fault." Nuala's voice was quiet as she spoke for both of them, hands clasped together tightly as they stood before their High Lord and Lady.
"How could this possibly be your fault?" Feyre didn't hide the surprise in her tone. Their dark eyes were unreadable but Rhys didn't miss the glance they both gave towards the closed door where Elain still sat with Madja.
He opened the door to the office, gesturing in invitation to the twins to follow Feyre and him in.
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Rhys sat in the high-backed chair behind the desk, Feyre perched on his lap as they listened to Nuala and Cerridwen's tale.
"Azriel instructed us not to tell anyone where he was when he sent word. She saw us putting together a basket, asked us who it was for. We didn't see any harm in telling her we were making it for him," Cerridwen's face was grave as she spoke. "Elain wanted to help, so we baked the bread together. She went to the garden after that, and Nuala left to deliver it."
"I know she didn't follow," Nuala cut in, her voice shaking. "I would have noticed if she had."
"Perhaps she saw where you went in one of her visions?" Feyre supplied. She bestowed her a small comforting smile, Rhys could feel her sympathy for the twins through the bond. They cared about Elain; even without his daemati powers you could read the guilt they shared.
"But it was here? In Velaris?" Rhys asked. Nuala looked at her twin, a silent conversation happening between them, before she nodded her head. Rhys' stomach turned to lead. Azriel had lied to him about where he was. Rhys knew that Azriel had his secrets, maybe more than anyone else in the Inner Circle. But he'd never known him to be overtly dishonest, not with his family.
"What happened after that?" Feyre's voice was gentle as she pushed for more information.
None of this makes any sense.
I know. Feyre squeezed his hand, the one that she had clasped between both of her own beneath the desk, as she sent reassuring waves down the bond.
"We were both preparing lunch after that. We didn't see her again, until you did." Feyre had shown him the memory as he'd flown towards the house. Elain bursting through the front door, arm clutched to her chest and tears streaming down her face. She hadn't said anything as Nesta had taken her into her arms, demanding to know what had happened.
"Would it be possible that Elain met Y/N on the way to...where Azriel is?" Feyre addressed the question to the room but it was Cerridwen that answered her.
"I don't think so, my lady. It's...out of the way, you wouldn't stumble upon it by accident." Rhys didn't miss the look Nuala sent her, dark eyes on fire. Cerridwen sunk back into her chair, realising that perhaps she'd said too much. Rhys pressed though, he couldn't leave it.
"So that would mean that either Y/N followed Elain from the house on purpose or she was there? With Azriel?"He suspected it was the latter, and the twins certainly knew more about it than they were willing to share. They both looked down, pointedly avoiding Rhys' gaze.
"We promised, my lord."
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"We could do it together if you want?" Feyre's hand toyed at his neck, tracing the Illyrian tattoos etched into the skin. They'd dismissed Nuala and Cerridwen back to their duties while they discussed the next step to take. They had both agreed that reaching out to Azriel was the best course of action, to follow the lead of his potential involvement before they took any further steps concerning you.
Rhys was torn. He wanted Feyre to be involved, but it felt too personal. Azriel hadn't lied to her. But he had to him, his brother, his High Lord. Azriel, whom he had always trusted. Feyre would moderate his temper, if the need arose, but a dark volatile part of him didn't want that.
A quiet knock sounded on the door. Feyre called out for Madja to enter, already sensing her standing on the other side. Her smile was reassuring as she moved to stand in front of them at the desk.
"A nasty sprain, but no broken bones." Some of the tension seemed to leave Feyre's shoulders as she let out a relieved sigh. "I've recommended she rest it, keep it elevated," Madja continued, "it should be back to normal within a few days."
"Thank you Madja, we appreciate you coming out of you way." Feyre's tone was warm as she spoke to the elderly fae.
"It's my pleasure, my lady."
"Did Elain say anything to you? About what happened?"
Madja frowned, before shaking her head. "Nothing that made much sense. She mentioned a door and being pushed, she didn't say any more than that." Madja took a step closer to the desk, worrying the fabric of the apron she wore between her fingers.
"If I may..." She paused, waiting for further invitation to speak. Rhys gestured with a hand for her to continue.
"I've known Y/N since she was a girl," Madja's voice wavered as she spoke, in all the years Rhys had known her he'd never seen her close to tears before. "She wouldn't do something like this it's not in her nature," Madja paused before quickly adding, "not to discredit your sister, High Lady." Rhys watched Feyre as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she listened to the healer.
"This situation is highly unusual, Madja. We need to speak to the parties involved, gather more information." Rhys speech was clinical, playing High Lord rather than concerned brother-in-law.
"I'll take my leave then."
I should see to Elain. Feyre slipped off his lap with a parting brush of her lips against his cheek before following Madja out of the room. Rhys rested his elbows on the desk in front of him and lowered his head into his hands.
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After taking a few minutes to collect himself Rhys began using his power to comb through the city, brushing past the minds of his citizens as they went about their daily lives. It took longer than he thought, identifying the distinct signature of his brother, as recognisable to him as his own after 500 years. Cloistered on the outskirts of the city, the surrounding land reserved for farming crops with very few residences. He felt another presence there, one less familiar to him, yours.
Rhys brushed a talon against Azriel's mental shields, a teeming cluster of darkness not unlike the shadows he wielded, and waited. The tick of the clock as the seconds passed by had Rhys on edge, he was considering pushing again, this time more firmly, when the shadows created a small opening just big enough for him to slip through.
Rhys didn't bother with a greeting. His mental voice was harsh, more than he meant it to be, as it reverberated around the dark antechamber.
You have ten seconds to explain why you are not in Illyria, and why my mate is consoling her injured sister before I come and find you, and we have this conversation in person. Conversation was a very polite term to use for what would inevitably become a battle of wills, and potentially blades, between the High Lord and his Spymaster.
Don't you fucking dare, Rhys. Azriel's voice was ice. The hostile rage that bubbled underneath shook Rhys out of his own for a moment. It was like its own living thing, driven by base instincts to defend against a threat at all costs. The force of it almost pushed him out. Rhys bridled his own surprise and rage down.
Okay, Rhys' voice was soothing, carried on a night-kissed wind. I won't do that Az, but you need to talk to me.
The storm of Azriel's emotions seemed to calm a little, Rhys could feel the effort he was putting in, wrestling for control that was usually so militant. He waited for his brother to speak for a few moments before continuing.
Why don't you start with where you are, and why Nuala and Cerridwen are involved?
He thought that Azriel was going to hold fast in his reticence. Instead his voice, missing some of the frigid quality it had before, answered after a few beats.
I own a property on the outskirts of the city, I've been here since I sent word asking for leave. Azriel paused before continuing, Nuala and Cerridwen were just doing what I asked, they don't need to be a part of this. Rhys should have expected this. Azriel always knew how to toe the line between answering what was asked without giving any substantial information.
And what is it that you asked them to do for you? Because they wouldn't tell us, because of some promise they made to you.
They delivered some supplies to me.
Supplies?
Food and other basic necessities.
And is there a reason you couldn't retrieve these for yourself? Why you're sequestered away in some property we're unaware of with one of our healers? Rhys tried to press against the walls of Azriel's mind to see what else he could feel or sense but it yielded nothing. Are you injured Az? Worry bloomed. As out of character as it was for Azriel to lie to his family, if it was because he was injured and didn't want any of them to know, to worry, Rhys could rationalise that.
No. Rhys could feel Azriel's attention, drawn away to whatever was going in outside his mind, still only half maintaining their communication. Is Elain okay?
Are you talking to Y/N? I know she's there with you.
Azriel hesitated before answering. Yes.
Elain is saying that Y/N attacked her, is that true? Did you see what happened?
I did, but it was an accident Rhys. She didn't mean to.
She says she was pushed. I'm not sure how that can be considered an accident, Azriel. Rhys tried to keep a handle on his agitation, but this conversation was going nowhere quickly. Why don't you show me what happened, then we can put this whole thing to bed.
A tidal wave rose, angry and biting as it chased Rhys towards the gap in the barrier he entered from. Rhys retreated back from it, shocked by it's sudden appearance.
No. Azriel's snarled response rebounded around his head.
Fine, I'll take it up with Y/N if this is how you're going to act.
Wait, don't. The emotion receded as quickly as it came, leaving Rhys toeing the edge of the empty chamber. Leave her out of this Rhys, it's my fault.
Oh? She's assaulted a member of our Court, Azriel.
She's my mate, Rhys. Rhys thought for a moment that he hadn't heard him correctly. But it made sense, the instinctual frenzy of emotion that seemed eager to slip his brother's control. We didn't tell you in the beginning, we wanted to get to know each other without any added...pressure.
Az, this is wonderful news...unexpected but wonderful. But we wouldn't have pressured you, either of you, into anything.
I know, I just...I was being selfish, Rhys. And we were so caught up in each other. I said I'd talk to you when I got back, I was going to tell you then. Rhys didn't hide the happiness he felt, letting his brother feel it freely, It was a bit spur of the moment, deciding to accept the bond. That's why I asked Nuala and Cerridwen for help, they knew where we were.
I'm happy for you, Az. Rhys allowed himself to bask for a moment in the joy that he could feel from his brother as he spoke about you. A part of him wanted to leave then, to retreat from his brother's mind and leave him to enjoy this special, if volatile time, as a newly mated male. But there was still a piece of this puzzle missing. What happened with Elain?
It is my fault Rhys, I should have sensed her coming. But we were preoccupied. Azriel's discomfort put Rhys own teeth on edge as he continued. We were in the living room and Elain opened the door, Y/N panicked and slammed it with gust of wind.
Panicked?
We were...indisposed.
You're joking, Rhys barely managed to choke the words out as he tried to contain his laughter.
Its not funny, Rhysand. He could almost see his brother grinding his teeth in agitation. By the time we made ourselves decent, Elain had already left. I was going to come to the house to see if she was okay, but Y/N is really upset that she may have hurt her. Rhys understood what he didn't say, that he couldn't leave his mate like that.
Tell her it's just a sprain, nothing serious.
That's a relief. If we're done here- Rhy's didn't allow Azriel to finish, already taking his leave.
Rhys watched the sun set set over the Sidra as he ruminated on the strange events the day had taken, and how he was going to defuse the tension from this morning before Azriel returned, likely with Y/N in tow.
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Your POV
Steam curled into the air from the water of the bath. The heat soothed the ache in your muscles, ones that you didn't even know you had were making their displeasure known, as you adjusted your position to lean back against Azriel. His arm slipped around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest as scarred fingers traced circles over your midriff. You sighed in contentment as Azriel continued his ministrations, feeling his smile against the skin of you neck. He brushed the sensitive skin with a delicate kiss. Neither of you spoke as you sat there, enjoying the comfortable silence and basking in the feeling of the new golden thread that tied you together.
Azriel reached to the edge of the tub where the basket of toiletries lay, filled with your favourite scents curtesy of the shadow wraith twins, and grabbed a soft cloth and a bar of sweet smelling soap. You groaned as he began to gently massage the lather on the cloth into the skin of arms and shoulders, adjusting slightly to give him better access. You turned your head, resting it in the cradle of Azriel's shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.
Over the few months that you'd known him, you'd come to admire his stoic beauty. Rich hazel eyes framed by thick lashes and dark brows. His sharp features and full lips that erupted butterflies in your stomach every time he gifted you with an alluring smile or tantalising smirk. As your relationship had progressed he'd become more open is displaying his emotions with you, less prone to cloaking himself in his shadows. But you'd never in that time seen such open contentment displayed on his features.
You watched as his eyes tracked the path his hand drew with the cloth against your body. You brought a hand out of the warm cocoon of the water to trace the map of markings across his shoulders, following the trail up his neck with tender kisses. Azriel's chest rumbled his approval. The flare of his wings sent ripples across the surface of the bath as you let a soft breath out against the delicate shell of his ear.
"It appears my little mate is rather insatiable." Azriel sighed, feigning exasperation as he moved the cloth lower, down off your shoulders to brush the top of your breasts.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." The hand on his shoulder reached to brush a single fingertip against the sensitive membrane of a wing as you smirked into his neck.
"Careful." Azriel growled, taking the circles he was tracing on your midriff dangerously lower. Even though the past few days had been filled with nothing but Azriel, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your tongue, there was a burning pit of desire that demanded more. You felt as though you could live a thousand more years and never tire of the feeling of him holding you in his arms. The thought of leaving the little bubble of bliss you'd created here was like a cold water shock. Thinking of the potential repercussions you'd face of what happened earlier left the sting of bile in the back of your mouth.
Azriel's hands stilled as he sensed the shift in your mood. You buried your face into his neck, closing your eyes and letting his scent calm your racing heart. Azriel abandoned the cloth to place his hand on the back of you head, carting his fingers through your hair. He made a low soothing noise.
"It's okay," he continued to massage his fingers against your scalp as he spoke. "It was an accident, no one is going to blame you."
"Elain will, she probably hates me." Your voice broke as you tried to hold back the guilt that had been plaguing you, such a start contrast to the joy and ravenous hunger.
"She'll understand. The others will too, Rhys actually found it very amusing."
"Oh cauldron boil me." You could imagine it now, the smirking good natured jibes from the high-lord and the likely even less subtle innuendos his general would deal out to you.
"Come on," the fingers dancing through your hair stopped. "Look at me." Part of you wanted to continue to hide as the anxiety and embarrassment coiled inside of you, but as Azriel moved to cup your cheek you lifted your face away to look at him. His eyes were soft as he took in your face, so close that you could see flecks of green and gold constellating around the iris. His thumb rubbed gently against you cheek.
"I just want to stay here for the rest of our lives." Azriel smiled gently and hummed his agreement, leaning forward to press his lips against the skin of your forehead.
"Unfortunately, I think we'll be missed." He considered for a moment before adding. "And I wouldn't put it past Cassian to break down the door and drag me back to civilised society." You loosed a small smile at his attempt to make light of the situation, but it still did nothing to quell the apprehension and doubts.
You'd so desperately wanted to make a good impression. It had all been planned out. After the week was done; once you and Azriel had returned to your normal lives, he would have announced the mating bond to his family. You'd planned to host a dinner, let them get to know you outside your capacity as a healer. Hoped to create the foundations for meaningful relationships. Instead, you'd ruined it before you'd even started, injuring the High Lady's sister and forcing Azriel to do damage control on your behalf.
"I'm just...I'm sorry Az, I know how important your family is to you. I can't believe I've screwed this up."
"They are important to me." He agreed, thumb stroking gently against your face. "But so are you. I've waited centuries to find you, and you're so much more than I dreamed you'd be." Tears welled in your eyes at his declaration. "I love you, and I know my family will love you too." You reached up to capture his lips in a delicate kiss, despite the gravity of the situation feeling his lips quirk into a smile against your own made your heart sing. You parted, and he began to trail kisses across your cheek.
"Rhys and Feyre already like you, they trust you with Nyx. Everyone else will fall victim to your charming smile and witty sense of humour, I'm sure." He murmured in your ear as he traced his nose against the soft skin of your neck.
"We'll face them together when the time comes." He whispered the promise into your skin as he paved a line of tender kisses to a particularly sensitive spot he'd discovered in the last few days, taking extra care to pay it the most attention.
You sighed and arched your back, allowing him greater access to your neck and chest. Azriel's affirmations had quelled the storm within you, leaving heat and hunger in the wake of his lips.
"But, we've got a few days before anyone is expecting us back. And I have plans for you." Azriel's voice turned husky at the end, the heady promise made your toes curl as you pressed yourself closer against him.
"Oh?" You breathed as his lips began to chart a course across your chest, skimming across the tops of your breasts. You felt more than heard as he hummed an affirmation against the delicate skin. "And what would those plans be?"
Azriel's wings flared as your hand found his hair, winding the strands between your fingers. He stopped lathing delicate kisses against your skin to look up at you through dark lashes, eyes light and mischievous. His grin was positively wicked, canines flashing in the light.
"Why don't I show you."
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gurugirl · 13 days
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CONFUSED on Patreon only
New requested one shot out now on Patreon
Summary: The one where you have always only been into girls but Harry's different and you want to know why.
. . .
And as the 2nd pitcher came to its end and you both ordered appetizers to share you were feeling quite comfortable and loose. Flirty even, which was a bit perplexing to Harry. You drew your fingers over a tattoo on his forearm when he pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, “How many tattoos do you have?”
Harry liked how it felt to have your finger tracing over his skin. He watched your cute face for a moment before answering, “Not sure of the exact number. Dozens and dozens. Maybe close to 80. A lot of them are really small,” he kept his gaze on your neck and then drew his eyes up toward your lips, “What about you? Any tattoos?”
You licked your lips and shifted in your chair, crossing your legs over to expose part of your thigh as you hiked up your dress dangerously high to show him one of yours, “My first one here,” you trailed your finger over the dark inked flower and watched Harry as he cocked his head and leaned in to take a better look.
Releasing the fabric on the dress you turned to angle your back toward him and pointed at the back neckline of the dress, pulling the material a bit, “Another one here,” you looked at him from over your shoulder, “Pull it down a little so you can see it.”
Harry gently took the top of the dress and pulled at it just enough to see your other tattoo, an outline of a dog next to a bone. You could feel his thumb smooth over your skin before he let go of the fabric.
“I have more but… you’d have to get me out of my dress to see them.” You hoped somehow the imagery of that would stick with him. He was being too polite, but then again, he couldn’t know that you were trying your hardest to give him signals. He thought you were only into girls. And while that was mostly true… you were also into Harry. He was the exception.
“Well, I guess if I was a girl then I’d get lucky enough to see the rest,” He grinned at you, surprised he’d just said it but also wondering how you’d respond to that. It didn’t have to mean anything if you didn’t take it the way he really meant.
You squinted at him and pressed your lips together as you let your eyes travel over his handsome features, “Too bad you’re not a girl, huh?”
10.7k word one shot on patreon now!
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atomic--peach · 9 months
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Her Grace's Handmaiden
Imagine being Cersei's favorite handmaid.
Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader
(Is it Not SFW, or do you just have a dirty mind?)
AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340
"Y/N, where are you?"
The Queen tone was bordering on annoyance, a dangerous position to be in especially for you.
"Coming Your Grace," You hustled through the bed chamber door toting a heavy pitcher of Arbor Gold. "I've fetched your favorite, Your Grace."
"Hm" Cersei sniffed, leaning back on her chaise and kicking off her silken slippers. She had spent hours tending to the court, hearing complaints and requests in her drunken husband's stead while Jon Arryn kept busy with the small council.
She outstretched her chalice and watched as you filled it to the perfect level, as you had a million times before.
"Leave the pitcher" she grumbled. "Come around here and let me look at you."
You set the pitcher down and moved to kneel before your queen, if she was feeling generous the queen might have thrown a pillow down to rest your knees on, but this was not one of those days. You knew what she was looking for. She wanted to make sure you were clean and well kept.
It was a privilege to be allowed to serve the queen so closely, and you had to maintain a certain standard to earn that privilege.
"Chin up"
You obeyed, skin prickling as the queen looked you over with sharp green eyes. Her face was stony as the great wall in the North, and just as icy. Her eyes tracked from your knees, up your body over your neck and face, sipping slowly as she took all of you in.
"Go drawl my bath, then come back to help me undress." The queen broke her gaze, leaning back on the chaise once more.
You moved as quickly as your feet could take you. Sharply you ordered hot water to be brought by the bucket full before carefully setting out the queen's scented oils and soaps. Everything needed to be perfect. Absolutely nothing could be out of place.
Cersei was still lounging when you came back, watching you carefully as you stood with your eyes down cast, waiting.
"Everything is in order?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"The water is being drawn?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"And the fire has been lit?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Cersei's lips pulled back in satisfied smirk, rising slowly before approaching you. She got so close, your breath caught in your throat. You could smell her perfume, the scent of incense from the sept, and the aroma of wine wafting off of her, intoxicating your senses.
The queen turned her back to you, her golden hair almost tickling your nose.
"Undress me"
Your face flushed involuntarily as you began to carefully unfasted every tie and button of her gown, peeling off each layer with care until the queen was bare and her skin prickled in the night air.
"Your robe, Your Grace" You moved to close the silked garment over her body, but instead Cersei brushed you aside and moved to the large tub of hammered copper which had been filled with water and kept warm by a small fire.
You followed behind her dutifully, taking her hand to assist her in and then standing aside until you were needed.
The Queen groaned lowly as the hot water ebbed the tension from her muscles.
"The brush" She ordered lazily, leaning back as you scooped up an ivory handled brush and sat behind her to carefully brush the queen's golden locks until they shone in the firelight.
"You have such tender hands" The queen sighed, the sensation of her brush stroking her from scalp to tip soothing her into relaxation.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"How long have you been here now? Not very long"
"A few months, You Grace" you confirmed.
"That's right" she nodded. "How are you finding service in the castle then?"
"Very well, Your Grace" you swallowed, feeling that the question was loaded in some way. "I am very grateful for the privilege."
"I'm sure" the queen agreed. "Come around here, my legs ache."
You set the brush aside and stifled a gasp as Cersei raised a leg from the tub, slick with water and scented oils.
"Rub them for me"
You nodded, holding your breath as the queen draped the leg over your shoulder and allowed you to knead and rub her muscles into submission.
"Do you feel worthy?" Cersei watched you carefully "Of the privilege you've been given?"
You swallowed hard, "Not remotely, Your Grace"
"I disagree" Cersei grabbed her wine glass and took another long drink. "Do you dare to disagree with your queen?"
"N-no, Your Grace, never" You shook your head. "I suppose I have a limited view of the situation. Surely your grace knows better than I."
"Well said" Cersei looked almost impressed, stifling a groan as you found a particularly tight muscle in her calf.
Once she finished her first glass, and then a second, Cersei sighed and pulled herself from the water.
"My robe, Y/n"
"Yes, Your Grace"
You wrapped the robe around your queen carefully, blushing as the thing fabric clung to her wet body.
"Many Targaryen queens had a habit of keeping their handmaids close by." Cersei spoke firmly, in a tone that told you what she was about to say was very important. "You will not be sleeping in the servant's quarters anymore. Instead, I will have a cot brought so you will sleep in here."
Your blush widened across your face and your heart fluttered. "O-Of course, Your Grace. Thank you, I am most grateful."
"I would also have you come with me to The North." Cersei pulled a disgusted face, "The King has decreed we are all to go, to visit the Warden of The North. I will depend upon you to keep the journey bearable."
You were overtaken with emotion, dropping into a low curtsey.
"I am most honored in your trust in me, Your Grace. I will not let you down."
"Good Girl" Cersei grinned with a flash of her cat-like eyes. "Now, turn down my bed, I am tired."
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saintsir4n · 4 months
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EXPLOSION
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BRIAN was trying to help Letty. When everyone found out, it didn't go down well. Dom thought it was a lie at first and it ended up in a fight that Carson had to stop. Their feud was cut short when they had to get shit done. Braga kept gunning for them. Dom got shot, well grazed but that didn't stop Mia and Keelie from fussing over him. Carson grilled him and ranted about wearing a bulletproof vest but he was in too much pain to listen.
The days were getting more dangerous.
Carson fought one of Braga's men alongside Brian who was almost taken out and it terrified her. First Dom and now Brian could've been next. Every time she tried thinking about anything else she was reminded of what happened to Jesse.
Fuck.
She walked past the garage filled with the guys. They saw the worry on her face but she ignored them all.
Keelie begrudgingly let Brian follow her into the kitchen.
"You okay?" he asked, seeing her lean against the counter, staring out the window.
She sighed, turning around to face him, "You can't seem to stay away can you?"
"I wanted to check on you," he explained, readjusting his hoodie.
"So you and Dom made up?" she deflected.
A smile briefly graced his face, "I guess."
"Like some married couple," she muttered, fumbling with her hands.
"You did always say we had a bromance," he said, coming closer.
She hummed, "Got that right."
"You get a lotta things right."
She frowned, "No, no I didn't." I was wrong about you. That went without saying.
"You didn't answer my question," he pressed, worried about her.
"Why do you care if I'm okay?" Her face scrunched up, "It's been years Brian."
"Yeah, it has. But I haven't stopped caring. when you left town I was a mess. In Miami, I begged Suki to tell me where you were, just to see if you were okay," he now towered over her, caging her in against the counter like he did all those years ago. Brian knew what he was doing and she couldn't help but let it happen. "I haven't stopped caring about you because I haven't stopped loving you."
Tears pooled in her brown pools, "Don't say that."
His hands reached to cup her cheeks, "You love me too. I know you're still in love with me, and If you weren't, you would've let me take that bullet today. You didn't. You saved me when one of Braga's men tried taking me out." He could've died today. They both could've died today. Every second counted, every moment mattered. And he couldn't allow her to slip through his fingers like she did before. He needed her. "Just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore, Sonny."
"I told you what I'd do if you called me that," she mumbled, leaning into his touch.
"Want me to go and get my badge?" She couldn't help but laugh at that. "I think it's in the middle of some Ocean. I don't know."
"Really?" She asked quietly, heart beating out of her chest as their fronts pressed against each other.
"Should've seen me throw that thing like some pitcher for the mets," he kept joking.
Carson tried hiding her smile, but he could see straight through her.
"You've aged, you know that, right?" It was her turn to joke, but they both knew she was being serious.
His hair was shorter than ever. A few lines creased his forehead. But to her, he still looked fine as hell. After all, he was 30.
"Yeah, you haven't," he smiled, shocked that she still looked the same after 5 years.
"Obviously," She paused, "Your eyes have stayed the same. Still beady and shit."
"Beady?" he grinned, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks, "I thought you said I was a pretty boy."
"Maybe."
"Maybe, huh?" he was leaning in, closer and closer. "We're pretty people."
"We are."
"Especially you," he whispered, tipping her head up, so their lips almost touched.
"You got that right," she murmured, "but there's something you need to know," he nodded, trailing his hands over her arms and down to the hem of her shirt. "You know that present you got me, the ornament thing? I dashed it out the window when I left LA."
Her confession didn't stop him from pulling off his hoodie.
"I'll get you another one," he promised, kicking the door shut and dragging a chair under the handle.
She gasped when returned to her and his lips peppered over her neck, “You’ll get me another one?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re gonna get me more?” She panted, letting him lift up her shirt.
“And more,” he nodded, pulling his shirt over his head, “and more and more.”
Her arms finally snaked around his shoulder, pulling him into a feverish kiss that both of them had been waiting for, yearning for. Years of love, hatred and wanting poured between them. It was hot and sloppy and they didn't stop. They couldn't stop.
Clothes dropped to the floor, and shoes were kicked to the side before he picked her up and set her on the counter, grinding against her.
"Fuck," she moaned when his fingers moved to pleasure her, nipping at her thighs and pushing aside her thong. She whimpered at his touch. He didn't care for silencing her. He wanted to hear more. She shifted forwards at the feeling of him pinching her clit. "God, don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it," His eyes hooded when her back arched, letting a finger slip through her core. His pace sped up, drawing more delicious noises from her lips. "Look at me," his demand forced her fluttering eyes open, "That's it, look at me," he added another finger, basking in the arousal dripping between her thighs.
"More," she pleaded.
"More?" His mocked, pulling his hand away. Whining, she pouted with glossy eyes. "You'll get what you want, baby."
The pet name swelled her heart.
But the sight of him pulling down his boxers and feeling of him unclipping her bra made her spread her shaky legs.
Brian couldn't take his eyes off of her.
"Look at me like that, and I'll have the whole house hearing us."
"It's too late for that, Sonny," he chuckled, pulling her in for another kiss, moaning against her lips when she reached for his dick and lined him up against her, "You don't know what you do to me." With one deep thrust, she whimpered, and he grunted against her. "You're so beautiful. Fuck I love you," Words spewed out of his mouth before he could think. "So tight," he didn't pick up the pace, he was slow and passionate.
Her nails dug into his back as his head dropped into the crook of her neck, sucking and nipping against her skin.
His hands hooked around her thighs and angled her up, making his movements deeper. He couldn't stop, her moans fuelled him.
"Baby," he rasped, voice thick and breathy, it managed to turn her on even more, "You're close," he could feel it. "Let go," his thrusts were getting sloppier.
A minute passed and the pair were a panting mess, Brian had spilt into her without regret. Cresent-shaped marks dotted around his back and bruises scattered over her chest and neck.
"Claiming your territory huh?" she jested, to which he laughed at. "I love you," she admitted for the first time, taking him by surprise. "I'm still in love with you."
Their lips met once again in a gentle kiss.
"I love you," he repeated over and over again.
And just when he was about to clean her up, the door rattled, but the chair prevented whoever was in the other side from opening it.
"If I see a white ass or pale cheek when I get in, someone is getting shot," they heard Keelie scream, making them both laugh.
a/n:
sometimes when i write smut i cringe myself out but tell me your thoughts on sonny and brian making up.
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zegrvshvghes · 10 months
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No amount of alcohol in my system could make me forget you- VD29
Part 1/3
It was cold outside, and I was feeling numb from the weight of the world. My friends had left me at the bar, and I had no idea where I was or how to go home. I mumbled a list of swear words as I walked shakily down the street. I jerked myself to a stop, realizing that I was lost. That sudden realization hit me hard, and I leaned against a brick wall to steady myself before I fell over. Just then, I saw the neon sign for a hotel nearby, the name of which I couldn't recall. Making my way inside, I paused at the reception for a while before trudging down the hall to the lift.
Thank god it was empty when I exited on the sixth floor. I felt very disoriented, so I relied on my intuition until I saw a door that was left ajar. I entered and made my way to the bed, allowing myself to sink onto it, feeling the softness of the sheets. As I nestled myself deeper, I noticed that the room's heating wasn't working while the window was left open, making the room freeze me to the bone. So with a chattering set of teeth, I dared to walk over and close that window.
I was so drunk that none of this made much sense, but it all felt like a weird waking dream. I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the blankets and fall asleep in this unknown bed. I laughed at myself, and then I broke into tears when I couldn't forget about my problems.
I was surprised to see a man come in, a man I immediately recognized as Vince Dunn. "Hey, who are you?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding.
I whirled around, shuddering with cold and then embarrassment as he caught me off guard. I took one look at him, stunned for a moment before stuttering, "I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come in here. The window was left open, and the heat wasn't working, and I couldn't think… I'm just so cold."
Vince looked startled. "Why didn't you call the front desk? Or just leave a note?"
"I didn't have my phone. I must’ve lost it on the way here and I wasn't thinking," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm really sorry. I'll just… I'll go."
"No, no," Vince said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay? Why are you crying?"
I shook my head, turning away to hide my face. "It's nothing. Just… stupid stuff."
"Can I help?" Vince asked, concern written on his face.
I snorted, wiping away my tears. "No, I don't think so."
We stood there in silence for several minutes, and I began to feel uneasy. I was nervous and embarrassed, and I wanted to leave before Vince had to kick me out.
But then he spoke again. "You know, you're welcome to stay. I mean, if you're really cold and don't have anywhere else to go. I have an extra blanket, and I can order some room service."
I looked at him in surprise. "Really? You'd let a stranger stay in your hotel room?"
Vince shrugged. "You don't seem like a dangerous person. And, I don't know, I just have a feeling that you need someone right now."
I was touched by his kindness, and I nodded my head in agreement. "Thank you," I whispered hoarsely.
With that, Vince made his way to the phone, calling for room service, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling grateful and confused. This famous hockey player was being so kind to me, even though he had no reason to. I wondered what his life was like, what he did outside of hockey.
When Vince returned, he had a tray of food, piled high with sandwiches, fruit, and a pitcher of water. He set the tray down on the table in front of me, and then he poured us each a glass of water.
"I hope you like sandwiches," he said with a smile.
I nodded, gratefully piling a sandwich high with meat and cheese. We ate in silence for a while, but it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, almost like we had known each other for years.
It wasn't until after we finished eating that Vince spoke up again. "So, what's your name?"
I blushed, realizing that we had been talking for a while already and he didn't know my name. Sticking out my hand, I introduced myself
Vince took my hand, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you, I'm Vince."
We continued to talk, sharing stories about ourselves and our lives. I learned that Vince was more than just a hockey player; he was also an artist in his free time. I was intrigued by that, asking him more and more questions about his art.
Before I knew it, hours had passed, and the dawn was slowly creeping into the sky outside. I yawned, resting my head against Vince's shoulder.
"Are you tired?" he asked, glancing down at me.
I nodded. "Yeah, a little bit. I should probably go. "
“Where?”
“I can find a place” I explained.
Vince looked disappointed. "Oh. Okay."
But then he leaned in closer, and I could feel his breath on my face. My heart was beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears. And then, before I knew it, Vince was kissing me.
It was a soft, gentle kiss, one that seemed to go on forever. I melted into it, my arms wrapping around Vince's neck as he held me tightly. It was just a simple kiss, but it was so full of love and warmth that I felt like my heart was going to burst.
When we pulled away, I was breathless. "Wow," I whispered, feeling a smile spread across my face.
Vince grinned down at me, cupping my face in his hands. "Yeah," he said. "Wow."
And then we were kissing again, our bodies pressed close together as the sun rose outside. It was a beautiful, magical night, and even though we had just met, I felt like I had known Vince for a lifetime.
As I fell asleep in his arms, I knew that this was just the beginning of something special. And even though I was still lost and confused, I felt like I had found a home in Vince's embrace.
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breelandwalker · 2 years
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Secular Celebrations - Midsummer
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After Beltane comes Midsummer, which some also call Litha, mid to late June. I call it “probably already too hot to go outside.” I’m not exactly a summertime person to begin with and I live in Virginia, in the middle of a swamp. So the rest of you can enjoy Midsummer. I’m going to be spending it indoors where the air conditioning is.
Midsummer is the summer solstice, the middle of the growing season, the highest point of high summer. It’s a time to celebrate the hard work we’ve done, take a bit of ease while the weather is pleasant, and have a good romp before we have to start bringing in the harvests in August. If you work with solar magic or the Fair Folk, this is your holiday. Both of these themes run deep and strong through Midsummer, along with the urge to get outside and revel in the beauty of nature at peak flourish.
So enjoy Midsummer first and foremost by getting outside...if you can. If it’s too damn hot, yanno, be realistic. But at least make an effort if you enjoy the hotter weather and it’s not dangerous to be out. Go to your favorite park, maybe go to the beach, go hiking, go to a pick-your-own fruit farm, have a picnic, attend a fair or a carnival, do some stargazing. All this assumes a lot about public safety since we’re still living in the COVID era, so use your good judgement. If it’s not safe to be around crowds, try to focus on solo activities or things you can do in the safety of your home or your backyard.
This is another good time for herb-picking. If you have a garden, your plants should be producing by this point, and you can start pruning your plants and drying those trimmings for use in your craft. This is actually my favorite part of the summer. I love putting up those bundles of plants and flowers to dry, I love the look of them in my home, and I love the satisfaction of putting the dried material into jars for storage. And hey, if you’re not growing anything, you can still enjoy this by picking up fresh herbs from the supermarket or the local garden store and drying them.
You can also go herb gathering like I mentioned for Beltane, since different plants will be in season. Again, always observe permission and best practices if you’re going to do this. And always make sure you label your bundles and your jars for easy identification.
On a practical note, if you’re going to be doing things outside for Midsummer, always make sure you wear sunscreen and adequate clothing to avoid too much UV exposure, including a face covering. Remember to hydrate properly throughout the day, be careful with your alcohol intake, and if you start to feel tired or woozy, or if you stop sweating, get out of the sun IMMEDIATELY. Heat exhaustion and heat stroke are no joke, witches. Take care of yourselves out there.
And speaking of herbs and ways of keeping cool, one of the things I really enjoy doing in the summertime is making magical iced teas. I know some of my overseas listeners might be blinking in confusion right about now, so if you’ve never heard of this, let me enlighten you. In the US, particularly in the South, we’re very fond of iced tea. Now, that doesn’t mean cold tea, it’s tea that’s been sweetened and chilled, and it’s usually served over ice with lemon or mint leaves, depending on the recipe. This is a fun and easy herbal potion that anyone can make. You just need a pitcher of hot water, some herbal tea bags, some sugar or honey, and whatever flavorings you want to add.
Using several teabags or a big pouch of looseleaf tea, mix up a batch of tea that’s a little stronger than you’d usually make for a hot cuppa. Stir in sugar or honey until it’s as sweet as you like it - we usually go a step or two sweeter than you’d think. Then add whatever flavorings you like. And you can use just about anything for this. I’m partial to a nice blend of chamomile and peppermint with a good dollop of honey, or white tea with jasmine, or spearmint and elderflower, or hibiscus and raspberry. Lavender and lemon is another popular recipe, if you can get your hands on culinary lavender. (And yes, there IS a difference between lavender grown for the kitchen and lavender grown for aromatherapy purposes, so shop carefully.) Feel free to make drinks that correspond to magical purposes, too. Health, wealth, happiness, whatever you like. Sweet iced potions? Yes please!
This can be stretched to alcoholic drinks too, if you’re partial. I mean, what are we even doing with our craft if we’re not stirring spells into sangria or joining the midnight margarita club, right? My husband makes a delightful little cocktail he calls a Gardener’s Tonic - basically a gin and tonic with muddled sweet basil and lime juice and a slice of cucumber. Just make sure that when you’re enjoying your alcoholic alchemy, you’re doing so responsibly.
So once you’ve got your drink of choice and you’ve had a chance to relax, look to your homestead. Tend that garden, like I mentioned before. Attend to any pest problems you might be having, or any home repairs that might need doing. Try not to put things off. Once autumn arrives, you may find that you’re too busy. Reorganize your witchy supplies. If you’ve got new material or new tools coming in, try to declutter and get rid of anything that’s gone stale or sour, or anything that’s used up. Check your jars for signs of mold and give your accoutrements a good cleaning.
If you feel that kitchen witch itch, there’s a cream for that….it’s in the fridge next to the milk. (I apologize for NOTHING.) You can check on the beverages you started back around Beltane, or start a batch if you didn’t do one in the spring. You can start a sourdough, since that seems to be all the rage right now, or make preserves and jams with those early fruits and berries. Make food or homemade sweet with local produce and local honey. Oh and bless the bees and the pollinators while you’re at it! Bless their little hearts, they bring so much sweetness to the world, they deserve thanks for their hard work.
Midsummer is a big holiday for picnics, so if you can have one, definitely do it, even if it’s just on your back porch. If you happen to have a fenced yard and a tent to work with, maybe try an overnight campout just for fun. My dad used to do this all the time when my brother and I were kids. We’d set up a tent in the backyard, he’d drag out a TV and VCR on extension cords, and we’d stay up half the night watching movies and eating junk food. Hey, we were suburban kids, my dad’s idea of “roughing it” was having no remote for the TV. It was super fun, and if you can manage something like this, I definitely recommend it to witches with little ones. Lot of good memories there, if they’re inclined to such things.
Of course, summer isn’t all clear skies and sunshine. Sometimes it rains. But heck, that can be just as much fun. Apart from the obvious option of gathering the rainwater for magical purposes, have you ever gone out in the rain on purpose? When it’s warm out and the rain is coming down in nice fat drops and you’re wearing stuff that can stand a little soaking, few things are more fun than running around and getting absolutely drenched. I’ve got a few fond memories of walking in the woods during rainstorms with my bestie from middle school. There’s a saying that goes, “Life isn’t about avoiding the storms, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” If there’s not a danger of lightning, I definitely recommend giving it a try. It’s really kind of exhilarating.
Midsummer is the longest day of the year. It’s the day when we see the most light, the earliest sunrise, the latest sunset. Meditate on how you can bring more light and positivity into your life, and how you can have a positive impact on the lives of others, on your community, and the world in general. Think about your productivity, your projects, your path to personal growth. How are things going? Is there anything that feels stuck that needs to be addressed? Where can you modify your outlook to something more optimistic, and where do you maybe need to take off the rose-colored glasses and be more of a realist? All things to contemplate while you’re sipping that magical iced tea potion.
Other Posts In This Series:
Imbolc
Spring Equinox
Beltane
Midsummer
Lughnasadh
Autumn Equinox
Samhain
Yule
If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop.
The Hex Positive podcast is a proud member of the Nerd and Tie Podcast Network.😊
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Chuuya and Affection
Chuuya is a man with little time on his hands, and a lot of money to burn, and a very dangerous job. As such, the fact you managed to bag him at all is telling enough as it is. As while I believe he would love rather easily, it would likely be an incredibly low chance for him to act on it. Whether his partner is in or outside the mafia.
The confession didn't go as planned, but honestly, when had anything gone how Chuuya wanted? He kept his gaze centered on your skirt as he carefully dabbed at the cloth with a napkin. The wine in his veins had done the talking, and the dumping of the wine, and encouraged his bright cheeks too.
"Chuuya?"
"Yeah?"
His skin jumped when you cupped his cheek to look at you. "The answer is yes. Hell yes."
Chuuya is the type that wants to make sure your basic needs are met. If you mention you're low on food he's sending you an order of groceries. If you mention your water isn't clean he's sending you a basic water purifier pitcher. He remembers what it was like to have nothing and doesn't want that for you.
"Okay, I think I got it working." He snorted as you muttered mostly to yourself over the phone. "I really appreciate this, baby. The water shouldn't kill me now."
"If the water didn't the install would."
"Oh shut up you."
Maybe a weird take, but I think every time you call him "Chu" he'll kiss you quiet, as he finds that nick name embarrassing due to it meaning a kissing sound.
"Chuuya~!"
He ignored you as he finished out an email to Mori. It wasn’t something major where he needed to go back to the office, but it had to be done sooner rather than later.
"Chuuya?"
He sent it off and pocketed his phone, before slipping back into the house from the balcony. "In here sweet thing."
You popped your head into the bedroom, your face brightening up. "Hey Chu!"
He felt his face turn red, and he smacked a kiss to your lips to get you to just shut up. Didn't you know what that even meant?
When he pulled back he was almost certain you knew. Beneath the dazed expression on your face was the tell tale gleam of mischief.
He hauled you up, and you squealed, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Chuuya!"
"Get used to saying my name, sweetheart. Cause I'll make you scream it."
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sneakyblinders · 11 months
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this line of work pt 2
A/N: part two! read part one here. there will be a pt 3. this one is dark, you guys. please heed the warnings and do not proceed if any of the warnings will upset or trigger you. this may seem OOC for our darling couple but they're going through a not so great time. the meds really get to Tommys brain ok? A part of my Tommy and his darling wife!au. warnings: violence, blood, language, Tommy is out of his mind (literally), cheating, not canon, breastfeeding a baby, Tatiana being manipulative, sexual themes, alluding to smut but no graphic depictions. 18+ only. Minors, DNI. 5.6k words. I take no credit for the gif! text dividers by @cottage-writings
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Bee never left Tommy’s side in the hospital. Ada brought her clothes and toiletries, the nurses giving her a side eye when she would use the bath to wash in Tommy’s private room. 
Tommy was delusional half of the time, alternating between fits of rage and extreme sorrow. Once Bee had taken a walk to get some fresh air, only to be quickly hailed by the nurses to come calm her husband. 
The room was in disarray, glass shattered on the floor, his arm cut from where he had raked it through the glass shards after he’d sent the pitcher flying across the room. Bee tenderly walked over to him, unafraid of his rage. His jaw was clenched, sweat pouring from him. 
“Thomas,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of his bed. 
The nurses looked on in awe as his demeanor immediately shifted. “Love?” he called out to her. “Are you back?” he asked, breathless, reaching out for her. 
Blood dripped on her dress. She reached out to tenderly touch his face. “I’m right here,” she told him soothingly. “Right here, Darling,” she said. He gripped her hand, vision still fuzzy, only able to make out general shapes. 
“My love,” he said quietly, bringing the back of her hand to his cheek. 
“You’re okay,” she said, her other hand gently on his thigh. “You’re safe. I’m with you.”
“Where–where are the babies?” he asked, panic in his eyes. 
Her heart broke in her chest. This was the third time he’d asked that day. “They’re at home, with Ada, with Frances. They’re safe, Lovey,” she told him gently, 
“Yeah, yeah they’re safe,” he repeated, shaking his head. 
“You hurt your arm,” she said gently, more blood dripping onto her dress. “Will you let me clean it for you?”
He smiled softly. “Can’t get blood on your pretty hands, angel,” he said. 
She smiled softly. “Can I ask one of the nurses to help you, then?” she asked. The nurses stood in the doorway, trembling in awe. 
“Yeah, yeah, please,” he said, settling back against his pillows in his bed. 
The nurse named Penny came and cleaned Tommy’s arm up while Bee assisted the nurses with cleaning up the room. 
“Mrs. Shelby, we’re sorry to disturb your walk, but he just kept shouting for you,” Jane, another nurse said. 
“Oh, it’s no bother at all. He–he gets like that sometimes,” Bee admitted sheepishly. 
Tommy was in the hospital for three months. Bee’s leg was nearly healed now, but her heart was broken. Tommy had regained most of his eyesight, but things were still blurry. His head pounded furiously almost every second of the day and he had a nasty scar on the back of his head from where they had to do surgery to relieve some of the swelling on his brain. Thankfully, his hair covered it. Guilt burdened his heart every second of the day for all that had transpired over the last few months. The danger he had put his wife, his children, himself in. 
Arthur came to drive them home from the hospital, tears in his eyes when he hugged his younger brother. “You’re alright–” he said in disbelief, cut off by a massive hug Tommy wrapped him in. 
Tears ran down Bee’s face. She was ready for their lives to resume some sense of normalcy. Arthur drove them home in silence, Tommy holding Bee’s hands both of his, his body pressed up against hers in the car. 
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck, lips ghosting over the tender skin. 
“I’ve been with you almost every moment,” she said, an embarrassed smile on her face as her eyes met Arthur's in the rearview mirror. 
“Not enough,” Tommy rasped. “Every second of every day wouldn’t be enough with you,” he told her. 
Arthur uncomfortably cleared his throat. “Uh–when–when’re you gonna be back at the office, Tom?” he asked, shifting in his seat. 
Tommy sighed. “Monday I’d guess.”
It was Saturday. “What about the children?” Bee asked. 
“What about them?” Tommy asked, reaching for a cigarette and his lighter. Bee was certain she could feel the walls of her heart separating from one another. Tommy saw the look in her eyes, his expression changing immediately. “That’s not what I meant, Darling,” he quickly said, reaching for her hands again as she pulled away from him. 
Ada was waiting in the foyer with the children when Tommy and Bee returned home. Peter ran to his father. “Daddy!” he yelled, running towards him at full speed. Tommy bent down to pick him up, his head spinning from the quick motion. 
“My boy!” Tommy said, tears in his eyes. 
“Daddy!” Peter cried again, pressed against his fathers chest, his face in his shoulder. “I missed you!” 
Tommy’s heart swelled. “I missed you too, son. Have you been good? Eh?” he asked, looking his son in the face. 
He looked just like him, but everything about him was Bee. He was a good boy with the best heart. “Yes, I’ve been good. Ask Sara!” he giggled as Tommy peppered his little face with kisses. 
Bee had gone to pick up baby Katherine from Ada’s arms. She was still so small, but doing better by all standards the doctors had set. Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat at his baby–his baby girl. His baby girl that he had neglected for all of her life thus far. 
“Peter,” Tommy said gently to his son, setting him down. “How about you go pick a story for all of us to read tonight, hm? You and me and Mummy? We’ll all curl up in the big bed tonight before bedtime and Mummy can read us a story,” he said, and Peter’s eyes lit up. 
“Okay, Daddy!” he said, running up the stairs towards his room. 
He hadn’t noticed where Bee had taken the baby to, looking to Ada for some direction. “She’s in the sitting room, Tom. The baby got hungry,” she said softly. “I’ll go to the library for a bit.”
Tommy nodded at his sister, making his way to the sitting room, where his wife nursed the baby at her breast in one of the chairs. He closed the door behind him quietly, stripping his coat and suit jacket from his shoulders, followed by his waistcoat, cufflinks, sleeve garters and dress shirt, leaving him in just his soft cotton undershirt. 
With tears in his eyes he made his way over to his wife, who sat in the chair, tears streaming down her face. “My love,” he said softly. “Forgive me?” he asked, voice cracking. 
“Oh, Thomas,” she croaked, the baby pulling away from her as a tear fell on her face. Bee giggled softly, wiping the tear from her baby’s face. “Sorry,” she said to the baby, who had decided she was finished eating. 
Tommy took the baby from her, putting her to his shoulder, a hand gently behind her head to support her neck. He patted her on the back until she burped, and moved her to hold her against his chest. “She looks like you,” Bee said gently, tucking her legs up under her on the chair. 
“Poor girl,” he said in jest, admiring his little girl's features. 
They sat in silence for a few moments before there was a knock on the door. Ada. “I’ll take the baby,” she said gently, walking over to her brother. “You two have some things to talk about, I’m sure.” 
Tommy shot Bee a knowing look as Ada took the baby from him. She silently walked out of the room, closing the door behind her again. 
“Bee,” he said gently. “I’m sorry,” he didn’t meet her gaze. “For everything.” 
“So am I, Thomas,” she said. “When Ada called me–I–I didn’t know what I’d do if you’d die and I would’ve spent your last days being angry with you I–” she cried. 
“Come here,” he beckoned her over to where he sat on the sofa. She climbed into his arms, settling against his chest, his arms around her. “I’m so sorry,” he told her, still unable to mutter the words he dreaded the most. Telling her about Tatiana. 
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Over the next week, life tried to resume its normalcy. Tommy pushed through his residual pain, having a greater mission in mind. Bee resumed her duties for Shelby Company Limited from her home office, Peter playing on the floor, and Katherine in the bassinet by the window, eyeing her mobile. 
Tommy was busy at the office one evening when there was a knock on the door. He half expected it to be Bee. They hadn’t made love since their return home, and his need for her grew with every passing moment. The guilt made it difficult for him to act on his desire. 
“Mr. Shelby,” the thick Russian accent pierced his ears. He sighed, not looking up from his paperwork. “I came to check on you. The doctors at the hospital said your wife refused you to have any visitors.” 
That much was true. Bee had forbidden anyone from entering his room unless they were an employee of the hospital who had been there for more than a year. He sighed. “I am alive.” 
“Are you?” she asked, walking towards his desk. “How is your wife?” she asked. 
“She’s–recovering,” he ground out, reluctantly looking up at her. 
“Hm,” she murmured. “I need you to be at a party tomorrow, Mr. Shelby. I need to see how dedicated you are to carrying out this deal.”
His brow furrowed. “A party?”
“And bring your brothers,” she tilted his chin up to look at her with her pointer finger before ghosting her lips over his. “I usually get what I want, Mr. Shelby.” 
A chill ran down his spine. 
That night when he returned home, he burst through the door of their bedroom, chest heaving. His blood rushed in his ears, his focus lasered in on his wife, sitting up in bed reading in a silk nightgown, her breasts peaked and visible through the thin fabric. 
“Thomas?” she asked, closing her book. “Are you alright?” she asked, eyes wide in concern. 
He furiously began to disrobe, clothes, watch, jewelry, lighter, cigarette case all falling to the floor in one pile. “I need you,” he breathed, climbing on top of her, pressing his lips to hers roughly. She let out a small squeak, hands roaming down his back, nails scratching at his skin. 
He ground his hips into hers, rucking up the hem of her nightgown roughly. 
He was quick and rough, rolling off her without so much as an I love you. He rolled over, his back to her, and miraculously fell asleep. 
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The next afternoon, Arthur, John and Tommy arrived at the Russian estate. “Boys,” Tommy started, lighting a cigarette. “Just remember, these people are crazier than us.” 
And fuck if they weren’t. 
After all of them being strip searched for any sign of alliance tattoos, they were admitted to the wildest party any of them had ever partaken in. 
“Tom,” Arthur ground out, eyes darting every which way in the room. It was madness. People were fucking on any horizontal surface they could find. The floor, couches, tables. “Tom what is this fucking place?” 
“Just have to uh–” Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat. “Play the part for the night, brother.”
“You’d do that to Bee?” Arthur asked, his own loyalty to his wife being tested and pushed. 
“I’d do anything to keep her safe,” Tommy ground out, Tatiana eyeing him from the corner of the room. 
“Yeah fucking that duchess ain’t such a bad way of keeping ‘er safe, hm?” John said in jest, a smirk on his face. 
Misery was the word of the night. Every bit of it was miserable. The cigarettes weren’t the brand he preferred and their whiskey wasn’t Irish. Tommy got drunk off it anyway. 
“This way, Tommy,” Tatiana lured him into a separate room, away from all the people. She closed the door behind them as Tommy ambled behind her. “How has your wife recovered?” she asked. 
“She’s never better,” Tommy said. “Fucked ‘er last night.” 
Tatiana smiled. “You should’ve brought her. The three of us could have had fun.” 
Tommy smirked. “I don’t share.” 
“Who said it would’ve been her we’d be sharing?” she asked, pushing him against the settee and straddling his waist. “She and I would share you,” she moaned, pressing a kiss to his lips. 
His hands circled her waist as she ground into him, tongues tangling for dominance. Every ounce of self discipline in his body willed itself to the surface of his drunken state as he pushed her face from his. “Who says she shares?” he asked, breathless. 
A devious smirk crossed the duchess's features. “She already has,” She leaned back down and bit his neck, traveling to his collar bones, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from him. “Have you told her about us?” she asked, a hand moving down to reach between the two of them, to unbutton his trousers. “How much you want this? How much you want to lean into that side of you that she has worked so hard to make good?” she asked, unzipping his trousers. “She had a lover at the hospital, no? One of the doctors who attended to you. I saw him with her one day, telling her he could take all this away with one medication. He could take her away to Paris in the snap of his fingers,” she ground herself against him again. “Did she tell you that, Tommy?” 
Tommy looked at her, panic in his eyes. “She wouldn’t–” 
“She didn’t. But she thought about it. And after he kissed her she said she would think about it after you returned home. She doesn’t love you as much as you think she does, Tommy.”
With rage in his mind and shards in his heart, he fucked the duchess. 
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What seemed like ages later, the duchess rolled off Tommy, a panting giggling mess. He tried desperately to regulate his breathing, body wrung out from the alcohol and the pleasure she repeatedly pulled from his body. 
She traced invisible shapes on his chest as they laid on the floor. “What’s this?” she asked, fingers touching his newest tattoo. It was just above the inside crease of his elbow, on the tender flesh of the lower part of his bicep. It was a honeybee, a regal crown just above its head. It was small. So small it was almost indistinguishable from a distance, but up close, there was no doubt as to what it was. 
Guilt washed through him. “For your wife?” she asked as he stood up, searching for his clothes that were haphazardly thrown in every corner of the room. “You had to know she wouldn’t love a man like you for long.”
Tommy paused, turning around, seeing Tatiana stand up and pull her slip back over her head. “What’d you just say?”
She shrugged. “It was not possible–she could not love a man like you for long. Someone like you needs someone like me. Someone who can see the darkness within you and wants to allow you to use it to its full potential. Not smother it.” 
Tommy stalked over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Tatiana moved to wrestle his hands from her body. “She loves me!” he roared, images of his wife flashing through his mind. The beautiful, precious creature he had just betrayed in body, mind and soul. “Why would you fucking say that? She loves me!” he said, reduced to tears, his face falling to between her breasts.
“At some point, the love runs out, Tommy,” Tatiana said, holding him in her arms as he sobbed. 
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The next morning, John, Arthur and Tommy all pulled themselves from the rubble of the party and made their way to the car, hungover and guilt laden. 
“What a fucking night,” John said, shaking his head, adjusting his cap on his head. 
“We’ve spent our nights in worse ways before, eh?” Tommy said, climbing into the car. 
Tommy brushed past Bee when he arrived home, avoiding seeing that fallen expression on her face when he told her he didn’t have time for her that day. That he had a lot to do, a lot of business to take care of. 
Tommy went up to their bathroom, where he began running a bath to scrub his infidelity from his skin. His wedding ring burned into his skin. In the whole time they’d been married he’d never taken it off. Not even the night before.
As he lowered himself into the tub, he removed his ring from his finger, scrubbing his hands and the ring to rid it of any trace of Tatiana. He faintly remembered her tongue on his hands, focusing on his ring in particular the night before. He shuddered. 
Bee came to him when he had finished bathing. His towel was wrapped around his waist as he mixed his shaving lather, brushing it over his jaw. He silently hoped she didn’t notice the faint bite bruises on his collarbones, and hoped the scratches had faded from his shoulders and back. He'd just taken a dose of his medicine, willing the pounding in his head to go away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly as he pulled the blade of his razor over his cheek. 
“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little mind over,” he mumbled, rinsing his blade in the sink.
She furrowed her brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “What does that mean?” she asked. 
He sighed, pulling the razor over his jawline. “It’s just business,” he grumbled, not meeting her eyes in the mirror. He couldn’t bear to look at her. Couldn’t bear to see those dark eyes full of hurt. 
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why’s your ring off? Are you alright?” she asks, noticing his ring on the sink. 
“I just had to clean it, Darling,” he said, the subtle lie rolling so easily off his tongue. 
“What are you not telling me?” she asked, seeing through his facade. 
Rage boiled in his belly as he finished shaving. She watched him, eyes ablaze with her own wrath. He thought of Tatiana’s words. Of the supposed doctor who offered Bee a way out of this life. A way to escape him and the horrors he paraded into their lives. And her betrayal of entertaining the idea. The pounding in his head was eased from the medicine, his mind whirring at a million miles a minute now.
He rinsed and dried his face before stalking over to her. She seemed to have shrunk into the shadows of the bathroom as he backed her against the wall, a hand dangerously on her throat. “How about what you’re not telling me, hm?” her eyes widened in fear. 
“Wh–what are you talking about?” she gasped, his grip on her throat tightening as she clawed at his hand. 
With his free hand he pinned her hands at her side, twisting her slightly to look him in the eye. “The doctor at the hospital. The one who offered you a way out of this life with me,” he sneered. “Darling,” he brushed his lips over her ear. “You’re not going anywhere.” 
“Thomas,” she croaked. “Please, you’re hurting me,” tears sprang to her eyes and a flash of annoyance bit at his mind. “Thomas,” she whined, his grip on her wrists growing stronger. 
“What did he want with you, Bee?” he asked. “Did you want to sleep with him, hm? Leave me for him? Did he want you?” 
Her eyes narrowed. “He said he’d never seen a wife as devoted as me,” she said, tears falling down her face, running onto his hand, still firmly around her throat. “He said it was admirable, but he would understand if I wanted a way out. I told him come hell or high water, I would stay with my husband. Everything else be damned. If you think,” she croaked, trying to swallow. “For one second I would turn away from you, you don’t know me at all, Thomas Shelby.” 
He let go of her and she sagged against the wall, coughing as the oxygen returned to her lungs. He ran a hand through his hair. “Who told you about the doctor?” she asked, a hand on her chest, heart racing. 
“The Duchess,” he said, his back to her, hands on his hips. 
“Is she the one who scratched your back to hell last night then?” she asked. 
His vision went blurry as a crack of thunder rolled through the countryside, shaking the foundation of the house, the electricity flickering under its impact. “Yeah, it was,” he said, turning his head to see her in his periphery. 
“You–you what?” she asked, her voice so small. “What?” 
He turned around to face her. “I’ve told you from the start, Bee,” he said, his voice low. “I am not a good man.” 
Her lip curled in disgust. “You’re forgetting the second part of that sentence, Thomas,” she said, approaching him, poking a finger into his chest. “You always said but I’ll be a good man to you. I hope she was worth it, Thomas,” Bee says, stepping back from him to fiddle with her rings, starting to twist them off. 
“Don’t fucking do that,” he snarls, pointing a finger at her.
“Why? You’ve already done it!” she shouts at him. 
“Don’t fucking take those rings off, Bee!” he screams as she throttles them at him. They scatter across the tile of the bathroom–the engagement band, the wedding band and the thin green emerald band he’d gotten her for her birthday. “Fucking hell,” he says as she storms out of the bathroom and to their room, slamming the door. He walks through the halls, following her, sighing in annoyance when he finds the door locked. “Bee, please, can we talk?” 
“Why would I want to talk to you, you fucking bastard?” she screams and he hears something shatter from inside their room. 
“Open the door,” he demands. 
She screams from behind the door, an angry, frustrated scream. He hears her walk to the door, flinging it open before stalking back to the numerous photos of them on any surface that would stand still. 
“Love don’t–” he tried to protest as she took a frame down from the wall and threw it to the ground, shattering at their feet. 
“Don’t call me love,” she growls at him. She goes over to the closet where she retrieves a piece of luggage. She throws it on the dresser and begins to haphazardly throw clothes into it. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, wincing as glass cuts at his bare feet.
“I’m taking the children to London with me,” she says. 
He slams their door, noticing the attention they’re gathering from the maids. They scatter down the hall as he stalks back over to her, pressing her against the wall. “If I have to chain you to this fucking bed, you are not leaving this house,” he growls, arms on either side of her. 
“Get the chains ready then, Thomas, because you’re going to have to do everything you can to keep me here,” she spat back at him, pushing against him. 
He pushed her back against the wall. “If you think for one fucking second I won’t move heaven and earth to get you to stay here you don’t know me very well,” he growled, his icy blue eyes searching her face. 
“I don’t think I know who you are anymore,” she said. “Because the Thomas I married would’ve never looked at another woman much less held me against my will for anything.” 
Her words stabbed him in the heart, making him visibly wince. “It is my duty to protect you,” he tells her. 
“It is also your duty to remain faithful to me,” she said, pushing against his bare chest, vying for freedom. 
“And yours to me,” he tells her, wedging his knee between her legs to keep her in place. 
“I have never been unfaithful to you!” she screams, tears coming down her cheeks again. “It’s always been you, Thomas! Since the first day I saw you, it’s always been you! But I’m not enough anymore, hm? I’m just your wife now, the mother of your children. Used up. Boring. I’m of no use anymore, right? Faithful, dutiful wife who stands by your side despite this awful life you lead, this wretched business you’ve created, this empire built on blood and soiled money!” she screams. His eyes are empty as he searches her face. “I married you because I loved you, Thomas, but I will not stand by and be your doormat while you wine and dine other women underneath my nose!” 
She pushes against him and he doesn’t resist. 
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“Take these to the car will you, Simmons?” Bee asks, setting Peter’s small suitcase down in the foyer. 
“‘Fraid not, Ma’am,” Simmons says as Bee bends down to button Peter’s coat. 
“What do you mean?” Bee asks. Sara stands a few feet back with Katherine in her arms. 
“Mr. Shelby’s orders, Ma’am. I am sorry about this,” he says as a few other Blinder men rush towards her, taking her by the arms. 
“Wh–what are you doing?” she asks. 
“Mr. Shelby wants the children taken back upstairs,” Bee could hear Finn’s voice. 
“Finn?” Bee spun around to face her youngest brother in law.
“Bee, I’m sorry. Tommy’s orders,” he says with pain in his eyes as the Blinder men drag her away from Peter, whose eyes widened in fear. 
“What are they doing with Mummy?” Peter asked Sara, blue eyes wide as saucers.
“She’s just going to handle some business with Daddy, that’s all darling boy,” Sara lies to the little boy, who is clutched against her skirts. 
The men take Bee through the halls of the Manor, down to the basement and past the kitchens, through the tunnels that lead to the parts of this house that are made for discretion. Parts that Tommy had never allowed her to see for fear of her image of him being irreparably damaged. The floor and walls were rough concrete, faint cracks of light coming in through slivers of windows, most of them boarded up. 
There were stains on the floor. Dark gray stains she assumed had faded from crimson red. They passed a room where weapons of every shape and size hung on the walls. Coat racks littered the corridors. There was a spigot in another room with an old tub and she shuddered knowing it was for cleaning blood. 
They continued to walk until they reached a small room at the end of the hall with a lock on the outside of the door. 
“What are you doing?” she asked, noticing only a cot in the room. “I am the lady of this house!” she screamed in protest, for the first time fighting against their strength as the men pushed her into the room. 
“Mr. Shelby’s orders, Ma’am. We are sorry about this,” they said, thrusting her into the room before locking it. 
She screamed and kicked at the door, hearing their footsteps as they walked to the end of the corridor to keep watch. There was a window with bars at the top of the door, so she could hear everything that went on.
A couple hours later, she heard John and Arthur and another voice she faintly recognized. “Just get in there!” she heard Arthur gruffly yell, and a grunt from the third voice. “Boys, watch ‘em, Tommy’ll be here in a minute.” 
She heard their footsteps as they walked towards her. “Unlock it,” John commanded one of the men who had walked her down here. She was curled up on the cot, hugging her legs to her chest. “Sis,” John said, swallowing the lump in his throat as they eyed her. 
“What is he doing?” she asked, trembling. She had never experienced this side of Tommy, this side of his wrath, his jealousy, possessiveness, anger. 
“He’s er–he’s out of his mind, Bee,” Arthur said, not meeting her eyes. “I dunno what’s gotten into him but when I look at him, he’s not behind his eyes, yannow? I think it’s the medicine, the alcohol and the cocaine. He’s still in a lotta pain,” he said, clutching his cap in his hands. 
“What’s he going to do to me?” she asks. 
“He’s making sure you don’t run away,” John said, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s gonna uh, gonna kill that doctor today. He’s on his way now.” 
Bee let out a huff of breath in disbelief. From cherished wife to battle shield to nursemaid and prisoner, all within a six month span. “How was it for you two?” she asked, referring to the Russian party. 
They both looked at their hands, Arthur repeatedly clenching and releasing his fists at his side, his cap firmly back on his head. John worried a toothpick between his teeth. “They were mad, Bee. I think something the Duchess said got to ‘im. He’s–he’s not himself. You’ll see it in his eyes.” 
“Oui!” They all jumped when they heard Tommy yell from the other side of the dungeon. “What the fuck are you doing?” he screamed, his footsteps quick. Bee sat up straighter as Tommy pushed through his brothers to get to her. “Hello, Darling,” he said, kneeling in front of her, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Sorry you didn’t get to go on your holiday. You don’t get a holiday from your husband, Love.” 
She looked in his eyes and her heart nearly stopped when she didn’t recognize the man behind them. “You don’t get a holiday from your wife either, but you took one,” she spat back. 
For the flash of a second, she could see the man she loved in his eyes. Just as quickly, he disappeared. “I have never done anything that wasn’t to protect you,” he said, his grip on her chin strengthening as his body shook with anger. “Everyone else be fucked,” he ground out. “I will always protect you, even if you don’t understand why or how,” his expression softened. “Now, Darling I am going to kill that doctor friend of yours,” he seethed. “And I hope it shows you what happens when someone gets in between us and this love we have.” 
“Where is that love, Tom?” she asks and he’s halfway pulled from his out of mind state by his shortened name. She exclusively calls him Thomas, always has called him Thomas as long as they have known each other. “Where is it?” she screams. 
He removes his hand from her chin, taking hold of hers and placing it over his heart. “Right here, where it’s always been. Close to me, right where I can see it.” 
He pulls her close to him by the neck, slamming his lips against hers. Her hands go to his chest to fight him but his strength overpowers him. “Thomas–” she mumbles against his lips. 
“I love you, Bee,” he rasps, holding her close to him still, their foreheads pressed together. “Everything I do is because of how much I love you.” 
She closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, Arthur and John still standing in the doorway, backs turned as Tommy came up behind them, hands on their shoulders. “Ready, brother?” John asked.
“Yeah,” Tommy breathed as they walked out of the door, one of the Blinder guards locking it behind them. 
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Bee listened on in horror to her husband torturing this doctor who had threatened his life and his marriage. Strangled cries for mercy, whispered prayers of forgiveness and reasonings for his actions all spilled from the doctors lips. 
“Did you want my wife?” Tommy screamed. 
“Yes! For a moment I did. Every man wants to be looked at by a woman the way she looks at you,” the doctor panted. “But she refused my offer. She said she loved you deeply.”
The man screamed in agony as Tommy inflicted yet another wound to his body. “But you kissed her? You touched what is mine?”
“I–I didn’t–didn’t know you loved her,” he rasped in excuse. 
“Everything is for her!” Tommy roared. “Everything I am, everything I do is for her!” Tommy wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince with that statement. The doctor who lay bleeding on the floor, or himself. 
He delivered the final blow and the man gasped for his last breath. 
Tommy’s chest heaved, his throat seizing up, pain coursing through his body. He was exhausted. His stomach heaved and he ran to the corner where he threw up what little he had eaten that morning. 
“Get him–get him to the fields,” Tommy breathed, to Arthur and John, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Build the pyre,” he breathed, head spinning. 
“What about Bee?” Arthur asked.
“Leave her.” 
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For three days, Bee was in the dungeon. She was brought three square meals a day and was allowed to use the facilities as needed, but no more and no less was allowed. 
On the fourth day, she was awoken by Tommy’s footsteps down the hallway and keys turning in the lock. “Good morning, Darling,” he said cheerily. “Come on,” he held out a hand to her. 
She shook, afraid of him, not accepting his hand, but sitting up on her cot. “Where are we going?” she asked. 
“You my Darling,” he smiled. “Are going to get upstairs and get cleaned up, do your hair, your makeup and we are going to the opening of the Shelby Family Institute.” 
He pulled her up off the cot by her elbow, making her wince in pain as she stood to her feet. “And I’m just supposed to act as your dutiful wife even though you’ve had me locked in this dungeon for days?”
He moves to hold her hand, leading her out of the room. “Darling it was to keep you safe.” 
“From what?” she asks. 
He looks her in the eyes and she still can’t see the Tommy she loves–the Tommy she took the bullet for. “From yourself,” he says. 
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keegansgf · 1 year
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YOUR KEEGAN FICS ARE TOP TIER
okok so in your my angel, my paradise fic, Keegan says
“After this is all over, I’ll make sure that quiet countryside life you dream of comes true– I promise. No more war, no more dangerous circumstances, nothing. Maybe we’ll get a dog together.”
can I PLEEEEASE have a continuation/sequel where him and reader are living that life?? PLS like they live in a cozy house in the countryside with a dog (possibly a kid if you want) and it's all domestic and fluffy IM SUCH A SIMP FOR DOMESTICITY IM SORRY 😭😭
I AM ON MY HANDS SND KNEES BEGGING 🙏🙏 GROVELLING PLEASE I NEED DOMESTIC KEEGAN X READER
ofc you don't have to do this if you don't want to I totally get it 😭 either way I love LOVE your works so please keep it up 💖💖
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IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED THAT ILY
"lilacs and roses"
pt. 1 here, I don’t think it’s THAT necessary to read it though
pairing: Keegan P. Russ x reader
word count: 1.8k
synopsis: War has come to an end and you've relocated to a town suprisingly untouched and thriving, the perfect place to raise a family– It's just like what the love of your life promised you.
tags: domestic bliss, happy endings, family, a sequel to "my angel, my paradise"
A/N: I'm really happy all of you enjoyed that fic and my domestic bliss content <33. It's so heartwarming to see that you love my works and trust me more Keegan fics are on the way! I was actually considering making a sequel before this ask came in though, so good timing! Also, don't worry, I too am a huge simp for domesticity. 2/2 Keegan requests finished after my veterans day hold-up AHHH (note to self: write domestic fics while listening to laufey)
The light, refreshing breeze of warm spring air comes through your kitchen windows, followed by the chirping of finches at your bird feeder. The sweet smell of wild poppies and daisies fills your nostrils while you make a pitcher full of pink lemonade, slowly stirring in sugar and honey. The small, quaint town you relocated to is everything you could've wished for; the happy little monthly farmers market that's held once a month, the grey cobblestone roads, the old-fashioned lamp posts lining the sidewalks in the square– it was perfect. You thought this life could only exist in your dreams during... that period of your life. The memories of war will never fully dissolve and leave you at peace– but you have a loving family now, something to keep going for.
You dropped a few ice cubes in and placed the finished pitcher on the dining room table on top of the delicate, square flower print cloth. They were white roses, your favorite for a variety of reasons. They’re the flowers that grow in your town's planters and the same flowers your husband bought to propose to you. Ironically enough, they're your daughter's second favorite flower. The drawings of fairies in rose-inspired dresses and leafy hats are hard to fully keep up with, but you try your very best to hang as many as possible on the fridge. The flower was symbolic in more ways than your own sentimental value– It meant new beginnings and eternal loyalty, two things you were grateful to have. One of the roses from your ceremony was pressed and framed next to your wedding photo, hanging in your foyer gallery with the other happiest moments of your life. The day the family home was completed, your proposal, your daughter's first day of pre-school– they’re the quiet moments you smile about when they pop up in your head.
You returned to the sink to wash the kitchenware you used and looked out the window to see Keegan opening the gates, petting the brown border collie, Goose (lovingly named by your daughter) on the way in. You smiled at the sight of your husband. He's finally happy– you're both happy. You snap out of your staring and rush to open the front door, your sundress flowing behind you. Keegan must've heard the opening of the door and the light jog on the dirt path, getting up from the ground, leaving Goose to his shenanigans. He put his arms around your lower back and you threw your arms around his shoulders, giving each other a quick kiss on the cheeks before a sweet kiss on the lips. You softly laughed noticing the transfer of your lipgloss, quickly wiping it off his face.
"Work ended early?"
"No, I just figured I'd come home for lunch today," Keegan said offering his arm to you as you walk back to the front door. Keegan got a job as a mechanic after a bit of consideration. He’s always been handy with things, so the job was practically calling his name.
"You decided to close up shop for today?"
He was referring to your second-best achievement, (first comes your daughter) your boutique. Your mother taught you how to do needlepoint embroidery as a child once she caught you watching her work from the living room doorway. It was one of the more traditional things you learned, despite living in the city. Your love for the hobby evolved into sewing. You haven't picked up sewing since the war besides mending the fabric of your uniform whenever it tore or if a patch was falling off. Besides that, it was a joy to open a small boutique for the residents in the town, often taking special requests for their children.
"It's the first day of spring break for the little one. We were going to have a girly chit-chat over lemonade until you came in, dearie." He opened the front door and let you in before following behind you to lock it.
"Really now? I wouldn't want to interrupt anything." You joked with each other.
"But no, we were actually going to the lake for a picnic with a chance of some girly talk. If you have enough time, do you want to tag along?" You offered.
"Yeah of course. Do you need help making anything–? I can always help you with that sort of stuff–" you laughed and cut him off with a kiss. You both embraced each other and swayed in the comfort of each other's presence.
"I'm aware, but don't worry, I've already got the food prepared. There's enough extra for you too, Keegan."
"Thank you kindly, angel." He never let go of that nickname after all these years. Somehow you look even more perfect in his eyes with every passing day. You've gone through so much together yet your smile, your tears, your laugh... everything about you kept him going. His eyes aren’t as cold anymore because of you. You’re his angel sent from heaven itself. Now he's a husband, a father…a family member to the two people he loves most. Although Keegan never voiced it out loud, he's always thought motherhood looked beautiful on you. Seeing your skin glow while playing with your daughter or seeing your proud face after finishing sewing a pair of overalls for her with a flower embroidered on the front pocket, a purple lilac.
You find it fun to embroider lilacs instead of an 'L.R' monogram on her clothing as a nod to her name. Lilac, Lilac Russ. Keegan was the one to suggest the name, inspired by the bush in front of your fence. He placed lilacs at your hospital bed-side before you brought your little Lilac into the world.
You enjoyed the comfortable silence in each other's arms until you both heard the door to your daughter’s room opening, then seeing her tiredly walk into the kitchen clad in her button-up PJs filling up with joy after seeing her father back early.
"Papa you're back! Me n mama are gonna go on a picnic today! She said she was gonna make lemonade and sandwiches and cake!" She beamed. Keegan smiled at his daughter's excitement. He loves his cute little family so much.
"Your dad is gonna come with us, Lilac."
“That’s right.” He confirmed, ruffling her hair. She let out a squeal before grabbing one of each of her parent's hands and jumping out of pure bliss.
"Yayyy! If I change can we leave, like— right after I'm done?" You nodded and she happily stomped in place, hugging your and Keegan's legs before running into her room to get dressed.
"I'll never understand how that girl has so much energy after just waking up..." You sighed. "You better change out of your work clothes too. Hopefully, we can finish before her." You pulled your husband into your shared bedroom, closing the door behind you. You sat at the vanity fixing your hair, spritzing some perfume, and putting on your jewelry as Keegan picked up different clothes to wear for your family outing. He finished before you, looking over to see the love of his life.  You looked so peaceful. not caring about the problems for the future, but living in the present. He walked over to you and bent over your shoulder to sweetly kiss up the side of your neck, leading up to your cheek, wrapping his arms around your chest.
"You look so beautiful like this– you’re so naturally beautiful. I love you, I love our family."
"I love you too. Thank you for our family, thank you... for everything." The memory of his promise came back to you:
"After this is all over, I'll make sure that quiet countryside life you dream of comes true– I promise."
You take a second look at your lives– it's perfect. A lovely little house painted white in a field, a dog, and the most lovable child as a product of your burning love for one another.
"I'm ready!" Your daughter called. You can hear the tip tap of her running on the wood floors, the kitchen tiles, and finally the wood of the foyer. You get up from your chair and lean into Keegan's warmth as he grabs your hands, placing a kiss on your knuckles.
"You ready?" He asks you. You hum a response and he kisses the top of your head, walking you out of the bedroom. You see your daughter in her frilly dress and purple raincoat with her matching rain boots. Keegan goes out to get your dog indoors after seeing him getting sleepy while you put the food, plates, glasses, and silverware in two baskets. The lacey picnic blanket was already placed in a bag near the front door. Keegan came back in after two minutes, Goose trotting in, heading to his bed to take an afternoon nap. You looked at the various amount of items trying to figure out how to carry all of your things. You look over to see your husband fixing your daughters' ribbon and feel a type of fuzzy motherly feeling, then it hit you—
"Lilac, do you think you can hold the pitcher without spilling it?"
"I can!" You smiled and pat her head in praise, picking up one picnic basket and the tote with the blanket, and handing the other basket to your husband. You put the basket down to hand the pitcher to your daughter. She has one hand on the handle and the other at the bottom of the pitcher, trying to support its weight.
"You got it, kid?" Keegan asks your child while opening the door.
"I'm fine, I got it"  She responds waddling out with the pink lemonade. You slip your shoes on and Keegan locks the door behind you, kissing you before you walk passed him. You and your family walked out of the fence gates but your daughter makes an abrupt stop in front of the flowers.
"Mama, mama! My flowers are blooming! So are yours!" You look over your shoulder and smile at your daughters' reaction to the plants. The white rose bush is planted right next to the lilac bush, finally blooming after a long winter.
"They are, aren't they?” Droplets were still present from the time you watered them in the morning.
“Come on now, I don't want the ice to melt too much, m'kay?" You, your husband, and your daughter walk to the lake in one group. Your cozy little home was only a ten-minute walk from the lake– it's like the Russ Residences' hidden gem. One day in winter, you'll check if it's able to freeze over. Maybe you’ll teach Lilac how to skate for the first time. You acknowledge that thought, and let it pass, saving it for the future. You're here to enjoy your family outing, not to create plans. As you walk the desire path where grass refuses to grow made after many family walks to the lake, you did make one plan for when you three return:
As soon as you come back, you'll look at the lilacs and white roses to thank them, for everything.
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mj-iza-writer · 2 months
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Sp Special Containment Part 6. Look at that I actually got another chapter written and it didn't take a month.
If you need and update on how this story is going or are new to the story use the hashtag sp special containment to find the story. -MJ
Caretaker, Andy, and McGee stood in the director's office around his desk.
"Alright so today did not go as planned", the director sighed, "the human weapons just went through something that should have been controlled better, I'm seeing now I have to work on security for this organization."
"This should have been communicated sooner", McGee responded, "everyone here was in danger, including three people we were supposed to be protecting."
"I agree", the director nodded, "thankfully there were no major injuries for Aramais, Jaimie, and Whumpee. I will be in communication with you three as soon as I know what's next, and what will happen to the imposter."
The Director leaned to his desk, "I have a serious question to ask before I dismiss you though", the director studied the three, "do any of you have any objections to continuing care of the human weapons. They will remain here for care, but if any of you feel you can't care for them, I will reassign you. No judgment. No questions."
Andy spoke up, "with all do respect sir, Aramais needs me, I think I have gained some respect from him, someone would have to restart that and earn his trust. I think I'd be foolish to even think about leaving him. Even in pain, he limped over to protect us, I felt safer with him standing in front of me than I have in ages."
"I feel the same, knowing Aramais was there, and watching Jamie get up and protect Caretaker", Mcgee nodded, "I don't want to leave her care team."
Everyone looked at Caretaker.
"I think we saw a side to them that none of us truly expected. They don't want to be weapons. They want to help us, but they also want to help each other", Caretaker looked at them all, "Aramais may be a key to that. We all heard it, Aramais was supposed to be just like Whumpee's trainer, but he is different. He is somewhat a leader to them. If we can get him on board he may be able to help us with Jaimie and even Whumpee."
"As for Whumpee, I would never allow myself to be removed from their team", Caretaker smiled.
"We've worked hard to keep them separated, unsure of what may happen, but maybe the answer is them helping each other get through this", Andy realized, "if this works, we may have an answer for the other holding sights on how to get their weapons taken care of properly."
"I like this idea', the Director agreed, "let's have them rest for a few days, I'll meet with all of you, and we'll revisit this. If we all agree, then we will meet with Aramais and get his thoughts. You three are dismissed, please take good care of them."
Aramais limped to his table and reached for his water cup.
"Is there any way I could get a refill", Aramais held up the cup to the camera, then took a small sip of the almost empty cup.
A guard came in carrying the water pitcher and took the cup.
"Where's Andy?", Aramais looked at the door.
"In a meeting with the Director, he wanted to talk to your caregivers before they came back in", the guard handed the cup back to Aramais.
"Thankyou", Aramais watched the guard nod and leave.
"Do you want a visitor?", Andy came over the intercom, "I found your slippers, you kicked them off to fight remember."
Aramais collapsed into the bed, "a visitor sounds good, that explains why my feet are cold."
The buzzer sounded and Andy came in.
"Are you feeling okay?", Andy set a few things on the table, and carried the slippers to Aramais, "want me to put them on you."
Aramais sat up with a groan and wince, "sore, being thrown against the wall and pumbled by a stronger human weapon has that affect", he lifted his feet, "please, I can't bend right now."
"I can imagine", Andy sighed as he put the slippers on Aramais's feet, "I was so, uh, concerned. When you jumped out of your chair, no thoughts about what you were running into. It struck me just how amazing, but terrifying you and the others were."
Aramais smiled, "all I could think of was protecting Whumpee. They are still young and inexperienced in our world, but the moment they switched to their survival mode, I realized that I might would have to stop them from attacking everyone else if Mitch didn't stop them. They seem to have no control over their survival mode yet, something Mitch was supposed to be training them for."
Andy nodded, "I appreciate you doing that, I felt safer with you there", Andy winked. "So I brought your favorites, I figured you'd want some snacks. Let me help you eat, I know you're sore."
Mcgee peaked into Jaimie's room and heard her snoring.
A note was scribbled and left on the table.
"Mcgee, culd I have sume chipps and grappes, plese?", Jaimie had tiredly written with a shaky hand. She wasn't the best with spelling yet.
Mcgee smiled at the note, and rushed to the kitchen.
Jaimie heard the buzzer when Mcgee came back in carrying the snacks.
She slowly lifted her head and looked.
"Hey, I got you chips and grapes, and I even grabbed a juice for you", Mcgee carried the tray to Jaimie, "no need to get up, I can imagine you don't want to move much."
"It hurts to move", Jaimie sat up slowly, "but I can manage."
"Besides being sore, are you okay? Do you need help with anything", McGee grabbed a seat.
"No thankyou", I appreciate these snacks though.
"Thankyou for, you know, doing what you did", Mcgee watched Jaimie eat away at the grapes, "because of you, Aramais, and Whumpee we are safe. I'm sorry you had to be in that situation though."
"You're welcome", Jaimie grinned, "it felt kind of good to get back into it, you know. That was my entire life, though I don't hate this new life either."
"Maybe we can work on something to help you get that action again... if you like", Mcgee grinned.
"That would be fun, I'd like that", Jaimie smiled as they sipped at the juice, "I miss being active."
Caretaker watched on the camera for several minutes.
"Has Whumpee moved at all?", Caretaker questioned.
"They haven't. Their vitals, for the most part are okay", a guard zoomed in, "they seem to be sleeping still. They do normally get pretty tired after survival mode."
"I'm just going to go in and sit, I don't want them to be alone anymore", Caretaker went to the door and buzzed into Whumpee's room.
Thirty minutes passed before Whumpee's woke up.
"Aaahhhh!", Whumpee screamed when they saw Caretaker, they jumped up then grabbed their stomach, "oww", they groaned.
"Whumpee", Caretaker stood, but didn't move, "Whumpee are you with me, I'm not approaching until I know you're there."
Whumpee weakly looked at Caretaker, "sorry, you scared me, I thought you were.... someone else."
"Okay, I'm going to approach you slowly", Caretaker stepped closer, "if you feel uncomfortable at all, let me know, and I'll stop. We are on your time."
Whumpee grimaced as they moved to sit up, they watched Caretaker start walking to them.
They would admit it was strange that they're friend seemed terrifying to them right now. Everything was scary.
"We doing okay?", Caretaker stopped.
Whumpee felt tears in their eyes, "no", Whumpee whispered through a sob, "I'm scared."
"Okay, it's okay", Caretaker sighed, "I'm going to step back and let you have some space. It's okay that you're scared, you've had a scary evening."
Whumpee watched them step back a few feet.
"How's this?", Caretaker leaned against Whumpee's table.
Whumpee nodded, "okay", they whispered, "are you mad at me or scared of me now, I don't want you to be scared of me."
"Aww Whumpee, of course I'm not mad at you. You had no control over what happened, and you did what you had to do. You saved us", Caretaker sighed, "as for being scared of you, I've always aired on the side of caution do to you being a human weapon, but I'm not scared of you. How could I be scared of you?"
"You watched what I did", Whumpee whispered trying to fight crying, "I shouldn't be..."
"Now you hush", Caretaker frowned, but tried not to be to stern, "this shouldn't have happened, that person should have never been able to get that close to you. You three should not of been put into a situation like this. You've never shown any signs of doing that to me, and you've warned us when your survival mode was starting so we could get to safety."
Caretaker sighed as they saw Whumpee look down.
"You are not that, I am not afraid of you, I promise", Caretaker tried to say comfortingly, "I'm not mad either, I am happy you're safe, and I am relieved that I am talking to you right now."
Caretaker smiled, "and that I can give you these", he pulled out some cookies from his coat pocket, "chef made these special for you. I am going to hand these to you so you don't have to get up, and I'm going to sit down in my normal spot."
Whumpee looked at the cookies not hiding a grin as they reached for them.
"There you are", Caretaker smiled, "we'll get through this I promise you."
Caretaker took a seat by the table and watched Whumpee fumble with the wrapping for a second before opening.
"Chef makes the best cookies", Whumpee smiled wider, "how do you know we'll get through this?"
"Well, I just got close enough to you to give you cookies", Caretaker pointed out, "that's something."
Whumpee gave a shocked expression.
"It's on your time Whumpee, this is not a setback at all. It's just an obstacle to get through, and there will be more down the road", Caretaker sat down, "I promise, it's all going to be okay. Even if we have to eat all of the cookies in the world, I promise you will be okay and safe, all three of you."
Taglist: As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots
Sp taglist: @written-by-jayy
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akutails · 2 years
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0X1=LOVESONG (I know I love you) - akutagawa ryuunosuke
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✁akutagawa thinks he’s a loser after almost losing the love of his life. warning: mentions of death, nightmares, dazai’s abusive past. repost from @[yatsugareboyf].
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“Yokohama didn’t do anything good for me, anyway,” he bargains to no one in particular.
Would Yokohama even be worth living in if it cost your life? Would Yokohama feel complete for him without you? Would Yokohama even be thankful for the sacrifice that cost him his drug? The answer is no, of course, he concludes. Because why would Yokohama, the city he vowed to protect despite his terrible upbringing and trauma, be grateful for a sacrifice from someone like him? After all, he is a mass murderer with whom no one wants to be associated. It was okay for him to die, rot in secret and not have anyone mourn him. He said it himself; there won’t be much time until he passes away.
And even if all the odds were against him, he was the one who was fated to live in this world that lacks the only thing he deems necessary to live: you.
But why you?
You, who did nothing but great things to make Yokohama a warmer place even for people like him. You, who never put Yokohama in harm even if it harms yourself. You, who didn’t need to vow to become someone who would protect Yokohama even in its darkest days. Why did you have to be sent to die? Did the people ask too much of you?
He never understood, and he never will dare to understand.
Indeed, he was a loser. He had lost his childhood to pursue a life of crime and danger without a choice. He had lost his long-time mentor, an abuser, to someone who he thought didn’t even match his own capability, and now he’s about to lose you.
The one who one day appeared to him like an angel, sweeping him off his feet and showing him a new hometown he can truly be free and happy. The one who accepted him even if heaven itself wouldn’t let him in, the one who could mend the wound in his soul and thaw his stone-cold heart, his one and only.
Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is a loser, and he despises the fact that he’s about to live up to it again. He won’t allow it.
Come what may to Yokohama and anyone who seeks refuge in it, he doesn’t care. They will pay the price of endangering the one warm thing this cold, ruthless world could ever give; they will see the consequences of their actions that resulted in the harm of his beloved. The only thing that mattered to him was to make sure that you were safe, and Yokohama would suffer the result if that were to be bent.
And yet somehow, Yokohama never did. They never saw the wrath of a monster who lost the one thing they could have. He would’ve destroyed Yokohama, hell, even the whole world, only to have you by his side, smiling without a care, but you didn’t let him. Yokohama didn’t deserve someone like you, nor did Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.
Fallen to his knees, he cries for you. He sobs for the life that was once yours, the life that you were to have, and the life that you were to have with him. He mourns the sunny days where you make it impossibly brighter, wishing that when the sun comes up again, you’re there to melt him out of his cold nightmare. He longs for the moment that you’ll return with the sweetest grin with your hand out to him, once again rescuing him from his chains. With bloody hands and a sore throat, he screams.
Once again, he wakes up into a nightmare, the hellish world where you no longer exist. Except you do still very much exist, and he just doesn’t realize it yet.
“Ryuu? Hey, I’m here. Look around. You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me, alright?”
There it was, the soft illumination of your gentle voice and the warmth that it brings.
He felt you scrambling around him, kind of unsure in your movements, until he heard your footsteps walk away from him, but not that far. He opens his eyes to a blurry vision, looking up into the dark ceiling. Tilting his head in your direction, he sees you filling up a tall glass with the pitcher of water on your dresser. You always left some water in your room if Akutagawa needed them (or when you think he needs them, he never asks for it himself).
How thoughtful, one of the more reasons to love you. You know what Akutagawa needs, even when he doesn’t tell you. You know him like the back of your hand, offering things that he never knew he needed, providing something that he never thought he was worthy of receiving and giving things that he never gave himself.
He saw you walk over to his side of the futon, cooing at him to sit up properly so he could drink from the glass you just filled. You help him hold the cup when you notice his hands still shaking, you slowly rub his back when he starts to cough, and you move the stray hairs from sticking on his sweaty face.
“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you a towel-”
He reaches out to grab your wrist, almost desperately, as he sees you start to step away. He loosens his grip after a while but still keeps his hand around your wrist. Tugging on it, he struggles to say, “Stay with me, please.” swallowing the lump forming in his throat. Somehow, you understand, taking his hand in yours, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Okay. I’ll stay here.”
You spend a few moments holding his hand gently, staring at them. Akutagawa is scared to close his eyes again, so he focuses on your face. It brings him comfort, although it is not enough to describe whatever feeling comes from his gut. It’s… reassuring. Being able to lay your entire self out without having anyone step on it, being able to lower your guard without a stealthy jab from behind. It gives him fortitude in the times when he can’t seem to stand on his own.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything? Do.. do you wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head, and you’re not sure if he’s referring to the former or the latter part of your sentence, but you don’t pry more. Akutagawa moves his hand up and pats your side of the futon where you previously laid on, looking up at you with his red-rimmed eyes. Following his gesture, you move to sit beside him, tucking your legs under the covers beside him. He grabs your hand after you have to let go momentarily, quietly moving his head to rest on your shoulder.
It’s not always that Akutagawa would initiate acts of affection. He’s still wary of physical touch after all this time, but whenever he would, you never say anything. He didn’t explicitly say to not make a big deal about it, but he really appreciates it. You just let him be, nuzzling his head against your neck while he plays with your fingers. You make a move to rub his scalp but freeze halfway, hesitating to touch him. Still, ever the professional mafia man, he already knows your hand is hanging a few inches from his head.
“What are you doing?”
“I just..” you continue your movement, placing your hand on top of his head, rubbing it softly to not startle him. You feel him stiffen but not flinch, staying in his position, “Is this okay?”
He doesn’t respond, but you continue rubbing your fingers lightly against his scalp. After a while, you stop, checking if he’s uncomfortable, but before you can ask, he grunts quietly and tugs on the hand he’s holding. You hold back a fond giggle, moving back to begin scratching his scalp again.
It’s small moments like this where Akutagawa feels like you’re the only one who understands him. With only a simple nod or with a wave of a hand, you seem to know better than others who’ve known him his whole life. It’s you who he feels like himself with. Not the rabid dog that the mafia knows him to be or the menace that the agency perceives him to be. He’s simply and utterly yours, nothing more and nothing less.
Later on, you would whisper to him, laying him back down on the futon and covering his shoulders with the covers. You would kiss his forehead and hold his hand close to your chest, a reminder that you’re beside him. You would smile at his warm face, lightly poking the beauty mark under his eye before laughing at his scrunched-up face. You would whisper a soft “Goodnight, Ryuu. I’ll be here to protect you.”, despite your droopy eyes and continue to run your thumb over his knuckles.
Akutagawa is scared to close his eyes, worried that he’ll wake up into his world of nightmares again, but he feels safe under your soft gaze. He can’t help but quietly stare into your eyes, eyelids slowly drooping, settling into a half-closed look. You know that he’s close to drifting off (sometimes with his eyes open), so you start to hum a quiet tune. It fills his ears and reaches the realm of his dreams, lulling him into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.
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╰─▸ ❝ @[akutails]'s work is not open to reposts, plagiarism, and the likes. (09/04/22). taglist: @camdytherashoumon-selfships, @njisano
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kabie-whump · 2 months
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✧・゚Ripe, About to Fall - Part 3 ✧・゚
This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance
Title from 'Liquid Smooth' by Mitski
✧ Series Summary and Warnings ✧ Masterlist, Previous, First ✧ Chapter summary: Onthyes learns how Athos keeps Ventis so docile, and witnesses Ventis in a moment of vulnerability. ✧ Chapter warnings: Needles, forced drug use, addiction, overheard sexual violence, discussion and aftermath of physical abuse, crying, manipulation
Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Early morning light cut through the manor’s windows, casting onto the intricate tapestries that hung on the wall next to the door to Athos’s bedroom. Onthyes stretched, straightening from where he’d been leaning against the wall and getting up on his toes as he reached towards the ceiling. His night shift was nearing its end. It hadn’t been nearly as exciting as the night shifts he had done with the city guard, but he had gotten better at managing the boredom. Still, his joints ached from standing in his armor for so long.
A new maid, a green skinned girl named Deidren, appeared at the end of the hall, hurrying towards Onthyes with a bronze pitcher of water in one hand and a loaded tray in the other. He could see the panic on her face in an instant, and she wobbled dangerously as the tray’s carefully stacked occupants threatened to fall to the floor.
Onthyes stepped in front of her before she could make any attempts to open the bedroom door with her hip. Athos hated seeing his staff struggle. It ruined the picture he had in his mind of being served by perfect atomotons. 
“Let me,” Onthyes whispered, taking the pitcher from her so she could hold the tray with both hands. “You’ll get better at this with practice, but for now let’s not risk you accidentally spilling on master Landleigh on your first day.” 
“Thank you,” she said, a flush spreading all the way to the tips of her pointed ears to match her rose pink hair.
Poor thing. Barking up the wrong tree.
Onthyes opened the bedroom door for Deidren, allowing her to enter first before he followed her with the water. 
He’d let maids into the bedroom every morning so far but he had never followed them inside before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He definitely didn’t expect to see Athos sitting up in bed, cradling a sick looking Ventis in his arms. 
Onthyes put down the pitcher while Deidren greeted Athos and prepared his tea, but he was distracted by the state Ventis was in. The genasi had never been anything but composed, but now he was visibly shaking, his face twisted with discomfort while Athos held him close. The master of the house didn’t seem worried in the slightest, even when Ventis tucked his face into the man’s neck and held the silky fabric of his shirt tightly, his breath hitching audibly.
Onthyes waited while Deidren did her job, then handed her the pitcher so she could pour two glasses of water before she slipped out with a brief curtsey. Onthyes moved to follow her out.
“Please stay a moment, Onthyes. I’d like to speak with you.”
Onthyes stopped on his way out the door, steeling himself before he turned back to face Athos. The man gave him a sardonic smile, uncaring of the trembling genasi in his lap. Ventis’s lips moved against Athos’s ear, whispering something that Onthyes couldn’t hear. 
“How have you found your time here?” Athos asked casually. “Have you settled in alright?”
“Yes sir,” Onthyes said. “I have become accustomed to the way of things here, and I am well prepared to defend your property if the need arises.”
As Onthyes spoke, Athos reached for the box on his nightstand and unlocked it with a key he’d retrieved from a chain around his neck. He produced two items from the box: a vial of shimmering blue liquid and a syringe. Ventis’s bloodshot eyes locked onto them with an intensity Onthyes had never seen from him before. He could’ve sworn he recognized the liquid, but he couldn’t quite place where he knew it from.
“There is no need to be so formal with me, Onthyes. I’d like for you to think of me as a friend.” 
Athos drew the contents of the vial into the syringe slowly. Ventis clutched the man’s nightshirt in tight, shaky fists, and Onthyes heard a soft ‘please’ escape his lips.”Patience, treasure,” Athos hummed.
“I’ve been trying to remain professional, sir.” Onthyes’s voice caught as Athos took Ventis’s arm, holding it out so he could insert the needle directly into his vein with practiced precision. Ventis flinched a little, but he quickly relaxed and let out a contented sigh as the substance was emptied into him, whispering a soft thanks against Athos’s neck. Onthyes watched, fascinated, as a blue glow traveled under his skin, following the lines of his veins and getting dimmer and dimmer until it dissipated completely. He couldn’t hold back his confusion any longer. “What is that? Is he sick?”
Athos chuckled, putting the needle down on the nightstand and pulling Ventis close to his chest, stroking his hair while his eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. His shaking had subsided, and the tension in his face was replaced with a small smile.
“Sick? No, not in the way you’re imagining. We all have our vices.”
It was then that he realized what must have been in that vial. Nightspill - an illegal and extremely addictive sedative. He had encountered it a few times in his time working on the city guard, although it was rare to see it on the streets considering how expensive it was to import it from the feywild. 
“That’s nightspill?”
“You aren’t going to report this to your father, are you?”
Onthyes considered it for a moment. He knew how this sort of thing always went. The rich, powerful merchant would get off with a slap on the wrist, and his victims would pay the price instead. Would Ventis be better off in a prison than he was here? Probably not. 
“No sir.”
“Good. I knew I liked you.”
“This… Is this how you control him?”
“Don’t say it so distastefully, friend. I secure your loyalty with a wage, a dog’s loyalty with food, and my companion’s loyalty with liquid serenity. Air genasi have such delicate constitutions when it comes to staying in one place for too long. Ventis loves me dearly, but he would be so terribly unhappy here without the nightspill to keep him calm. Besides, he was already using it when I took him off the streets. This is just one of the many ways I provide for him.”
This explained so much. Onthyes had been in awe of how unaffected Ventis always seemed, even in the face of mistreatment or inappropriate advances from others. But now he understood. The nightspill kept Ventis so numb to the world that he might not have even known what was happening to him half the time, and he would never consider fighting back against the person who was providing him with it. 
“I see. Excuse my curiosity.”
Athos hummed, tracing the scales on Ventis’s shoulder with a gentle fingertip. He was fully asleep now, blissfully unaware. Onthyes couldn’t help but notice how adorable he looked in his sleep. 
“Ventis likes you, you know.”
“He- really?”
Athos nodded. “It’s hard to tell unless you know him as well as I do. He expresses himself in such a subtle way. But you’re his favorite guard by far.”
“Oh. I’m glad to hear that, sir.”
A strange look passed across Athos’s face. “Yes, I’m sure you are. You are dismissed.”
Onthyes turned, making for the door without hesitation. Athos hadn’t said anything explicitly threatening to him, but he still had chills and his heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t get away from that bedroom fast enough.
⋄✧⋄
A few nights later, Onthyes stood guard outside of Athos’s bedroom. He had become practiced at blocking out the noises from inside, but tonight was different. Athos had been in a foul mood all day - not for any particular reason - and Ventis was taking the brunt of it as usual. 
The sounds from inside the bedroom had been quiet for a few minutes when Onthyes allowed himself to relax a little. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d learned; about the nightspill. Ventis being addicted to it was going to make it so much harder to save him. Even if Onthyes did manage to get him out one day, he’d have to worry about him surviving the withdrawals, which were famous for their brutality. 
Thoughts about nightspill and helping Ventis escape this place had been distracting him for days, which was why he nearly jumped out of his armor when the silence was interrupted by a pained cry from the bedroom. 
“Please! Master- ah!”
He knew it was Ventis. It was always Ventis. But he’d never heard him so distressed before. 
Onthyes rapped his knuckles on the door and Ventis went quiet. “Is everything alright?” he called through the door.
“Yes, Onthyes,” Athos replied, annoyance clear in his tone. “Nothing is amiss.”
Backing away, Onthyes did his best to force himself to calm down despite the cries and occasional sobs that reached his ears through the door. It was driving him crazy. He wished he didn’t care. He wished he could be as apathetic to Ventis’s situation as the other staff seemed to be. But he couldn’t. And it hurt.
They went quiet again eventually, but Onthyes couldn’t relax. Hours passed. He was sure they were both asleep by now.
The bedroom door creaked open slowly and Ventis slipped out in nothing but a thin robe. Bruises and bite marks scattered across his pale blue skin, and dried blood made a red path down his chin from a split lip. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all in these passing hours. 
Ventis only made it a few stumbling steps out the door before he collapsed onto bruised knees, curling into himself until his forehead touched the carpet. He covered his mouth with both hands and his shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Onthyes froze, staring at him with no idea what to do. He’d hardly ever seen Ventis express any emotions at all other than quiet contentment, and now the genasi was trembling and gasping at his feet.
Onthyes removed his helmet, placing it on the floor as he knelt next to Ventis. What would he even say to him? “What’s wrong” and “are you alright” felt empty and useless, considering the answers to both were obvious. 
He settled for placing a gloved hand on Ventis’s back, noticing how his spine stuck out under his skin in sharp ridges when he bent like this. 
Ventis tensed at his touch, but he didn’t flinch away. Onthyes couldn’t tell if he truly accepted the touch, or if he’d just been trained not to resist. But he was afraid to risk waking Athos by making any noise, so touch would have to do.
Settling on the floor next to Ventis, Onthyes rubbed his back slowly. He couldn’t tell how long they stayed like that, with Ventis struggling to stay silent as he soaked the carpet with tears and Onthyes doing his best to provide comfort with his presence. Eventually Ventis’s sobs tapered off. He took one last shaky breath, then straightened slowly. Onthyes removed his hand from his back and scooted away slightly. 
Ventis’s eyes were red and puffy when he looked at Onthyes and the blood on his chin had been smeared around by drool. For once he didn’t look so much like a living porcelain doll.
“I’m sorry,” Ventis whispered. “Please don’t tell him.”
“I won’t, I promise. You’re safe with me. And there’s no need to be sorry. Cry as much as you want.”
Ventis gave him a shaky smile that fell away quickly before he moved to sit with his back against the wall and his knees at his chest.
“I’m not supposed to. At least, not like that. He likes it when I cry pretty.”
“Is that why he hurt you?” Onthyes cursed himself as soon as the question left his mouth. 
A sour look crossed Ventis’s face and he shrugged. His robe slipped off his shoulder with the movement, revealing some more bruises trailing down his chest.
“You don’t deserve the way he treats you. I hope you know that.”
Ventis stared at the bedroom door. He started to pick at his manicured fingernails before he quickly stopped himself and closed his fists tight. 
“He isn’t usually like this. He cares about me; cares about keeping me clean and beautiful. He’s usually gentle. Sometimes he has dark days like these. They’re the price I pay for living in luxury.” 
“My offer still stands, you know. Say the word and I’ll get you out, but I won’t force you.”
“Thank you. I… I appreciate the sentiment. The truth is, I don’t think I even know how to survive on my own anymore. I can’t fend for myself. Can’t make my own choices. After all these years, I fear he really has turned me into a pet..” His voice was cold and bitter, so different from the pleasant, ditzy demeanor he usually wore.
“I wouldn’t just abandon you to fend for yourself. I would be happy to stay with you if you’d like. Help you get back on your feet; get clean.”
Ventis winced at that last part, clenching his fists again. He shook his head. “Why do you care? You don’t know anything about me, yet you’re prepared to risk everything to help me. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Onthyes said honestly. “I just… can’t ignore it when someone needs help.”
Ventis chuckled. “So that’s what you see me as. A damsel to compliment your heroic streak.”
“No. I mean…” Onthyes thought about it. Did he actually want to help Ventis? Or did he just get off on playing the hero? “I don’t think-“
“It’s alright. People use people. People use me. It’s natural. I don’t mind.”
“I would never use you.”
“Mm hmm. Sure.”
Like a switch had been flipped, Ventis’s entire demeanor changed. He crawled to Onthyes on bruised knees, his lilac eyes heavy and hypnotic. He prowled in close, a hand on his chest, lips on his ear. “My hero,” he purred, cool air on Onthyes’s hot skin. “Thank you for saving me. How could I ever repay you?”
Onthyes exhaled heavily. He was helpless to Ventis in that moment, utterly starstruck as those words dug under his skin and ignited a warmth he had never felt before. His hand held Ventis’s slender waist on its own accord. Ventis’s head tilted invitingly and Onthyes moved in to kiss his neck without even thinking about it.
But Ventis’s breath smelled of blood and alcohol and there were finger-shaped bruises around his throat. 
Onthyes scooted back quickly, wide eyed. “No. That’s not what I want,” he whispered. 
Ventis sat back on his heels, his expression unreadable. “You’re… I don’t understand you.”
“I won’t use you. That’s not the kind of person I am.” 
Onthyes stood, straightening his armor. Ventis followed him, still refusing to fix the shoulder of his robe. Onthyes did it for him, pulling up the fine silk to cover his skin. Ventis scoffed. 
“You don’t want to be saved. You like it here. I can accept that. But please, don’t assume I’m anything like Athos.”
Ventis stared up at him. Onthyes had never noticed before how severe the height difference between them was. Ventis would fit so easily into his hands- gods. One short interaction and his imagination was already running away with it.
“I’m sorry,” Ventis whispered. “It’s all I know how to do.”
With that Ventis slipped past Onthyes and eased the bedroom door open, disappearing back into the darkness.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Part 4
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princessroyal95 · 8 months
Text
Do you love me? (Smoker x Reader)
Warning: This chapter contains sexual content. If you don't like this type of content, don't read on, even if it means you'll lose information about the story.
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"Take a hundred laps in the field!"
A shout upsets all the Marines who had no choice but to obey Captain Tashigi. The woman is kind to the men, but in the presence of the Vice Admiral it is very difficult. Every time she looks at him sideways, her leader doesn't stop grumbling annoyed that the young woman is still so noble with the Marines. Why does he have to be so rude? He's often a gentleman, but it's only a matter of minutes.
However, his personality changes dramatically when ___ comes around every time he prepares food for the Vice Admiral. Since the girl arrived in the squadron, Smoker treats her in a very different way. Tashigi thinks that maybe his superior has noticed the girl. Or maybe because she is weak and might be in danger from any pirate. But his behaviour with her was... unique. And the truth is that the young ___ was not a born fighter, let's say she is the cook on Smoker's ship.
Her radiant smile is so perfect that it melts any man. Instead, the Vice Admiral stands still without making any sudden movements every time he looks at the girl. Every time they collide it is as if there is tension in them. But in what? Even Tashigi doesn't know for sure.
And speaking of the girl, she comes out of the kitchen door with a tray in her hand where there is a bottle of beer and a mug. ___ approaches with slow steps towards Smoker who was sitting on a chair, smoking as usual, while he watches as Tashigi commanded the crew. Smoker's right hand has to learn to be firmer with the Marines because, in any case, Smoker can fall and will not be there to help her.
"I bring you your beer, Smoker-san." His thoughts fade as he hears the sweet voice of young ___. His eyes are fixed on the young woman's body and then he lifts them up and looks into those eyes that called out to him so much. "Do you want me to put it on the table?"
"Yes, please," he speaks politely as the young woman leaves the beer and pitcher on the furniture.
"In an hour and a half dinner will be ready," says the girl, seeing that it was already getting dark.
"Thank you for the information, ___."
"You're welcome, Smoker-san."
The girl takes a brief bow and then walks away leaving a Vice Admiral who kept looking at her. That girl is pretty, yes. Any man would notice her. However, in the last few days he has noticed something strange about her and many of his soldiers are drooling over her. What could it be? For a superior, he doesn't know clearly. You have to get that out of your head or else you'll go crazy.
However, he was getting cranky every time the girl played nice with his men. Was he getting jealous? He doesn't know for sure. But his desire to smoke more than he should have has multiplied, and he has noticed Tashigi's concern. He didn't care because it didn't affect him at all to have a Devil's Fruit in his body. It is even rare to see him give up cigars to drink or eat, and he does it for ___.
What was really happening to him? He is not a sentimental man, but that girl brought out the worst in him. Even wet dreams that any man can have.
"Tashigi!" he shouts the captain's name, making her tense.
"Yes?!"
"Let the men continue with their training!" The Vice Admiral rises from his seat.
"But... it's only half an hour to..."
"I said get on with your training!"
"Yes, Vice Admiral Smoker!"
How many times do I have to repeat it for you to understand that it is an order? Tashigi is sometimes very nice to the Marines and that drives me a little bit crazy. She's a Marine, after all, but the day I'm not going to be around, she'll have to manage on her own without my help. I worry, yes, but she's a captain and has to make the decisions for herself when I'm gone.
Now my mind is somewhere else trying to quiet my blissful brain that's always eating me up. Why does everything always have to be difficult? Why am I behaving differently? And all because of one person: ___.
She came to our crew because one of our cooks was killed by a pirate attack. We urgently needed someone who could cook. Everyone was counting on Captain Tashigi, but she already had a much higher position than a cook. I had to decide to go to an island to find someone to take over the job. There were few people interested in the job as they did not want to interfere in the life of the Marines.
Our reputation fell so low because of Akainu. That man has no idea what he is doing. He just scares people with our presence. I was ready to leave that island until my eyes caught sight of a young woman with a sunny smile. I don't know how, but I got a good feeling from that brat. I asked Tashigi to interview her and she said she was the one for the job. So I accepted her into my crew.
The food she prepares is exquisite. Any man would be very satisfied with the way the young woman treated us. But... especially with me. She makes me feel strange when she is near me. She treats me differently than Tashigi or any woman in or out of the Navy. Her sweet voice leaves me blank at times not knowing what to say and sometimes she even makes a fool of me in front of everyone.
Not that I have the best body in the world. However, her face is sweet and angelic as if it was easy to break it as if it were a simple glass. Her body was always covered with loose clothes as if she was ashamed to show what was under those clothes. On the one hand, I am curious. And on the other hand, I felt like breaking it with my own hands.
What the hell am I saying? I can't like her, she's a brat after all. I'm older than her and she's just a simple little brat.
It makes me laugh every time I bother her for being so short. I remember that when I entered the kitchen I found her jumping to get to the top shelf. She looked cute in that way. Until she decided to take a chair and go upstairs to reach some simple dishes. I just laughed like a rascal and she got angry blowing up her cheeks. Sometimes I feel like squeezing them with my own hands. She looks so tender when she's upset. I have fun with her without hesitation.
However, every time I spend more time with her I feel strange. I don't know if it's my thing, but the atmosphere between us gets a little uncomfortable as if she's hiding something.
I was already in front of the kitchen door as I heard my men shouting loudly at Tashigi's request. It's now or never, I have to end this discomfort between her and me.
"One and a half hours is enough for me."
I enter the kitchen with determination and there she was, wearing an apron, preparing food for my men, Tashigi and me. Did you notice my presence? I observe how she moves her head as if she were smelling something, and then she smiles a little and looks at me out of the corner of her eye.
"How quickly you drank the beer, Smoker-san."
I didn't notice that he had the jug already full of beer with him. I just smile like an idiot.
"I haven't finished it yet."
"Ah, I said."
How this woman knows me. More than Tashigi. I go further into the room by closing the door behind me and sit on one of the chairs while looking at her.
"Does it bother you that I smoke here?" Not that I mind, but with her it's... different.
"It's your boat, Smoker-san," says the young woman as she cuts the meat with a knife quite a bit, "you smoke when and where, wherever you feel like it. I'm not the one to say that I've stopped smoking, it's very common for you". She turns her head to dedicate that fucking smile to me that leaves me stunned in a matter of seconds.
"But it's your kitchen..."
"And it doesn't bother me at all."
So sweet and good, a very dangerous mixture in a woman like her. However, it doesn't bother me at all. In fact... it turns me on just thinking about what it will be like to do it with her. So harmless together with a man as dominant as me. It would be fun to see that.
I shouldn't think about such things, but this girl is making me bring out the worst in me. And on top of that my eyes are stuck in that short skirt that anyone could take advantage of and touch her ass. Why the hell is she wearing something so short? Usually she wears a little baggy trousers and she doesn't. It bothers me and turns me on at the same time.
"Do you want something, Smoker-san?"
Her question leaves me somewhat puzzled. What do I wish for? Oh, if you only knew, you little brat. I could do anything to you right now.
"You seem a little strange lately," I say with sincerity to draw your attention.
"Strange in what way?"
"Is there something wrong with me?" I feel her body tensing up and then looking at me a little.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Smoker-san."
Why do I have the feeling that you are lying to me? I exhale the smoke of my cigars without stopping looking at the girl who was just going on with her work. Girl, put that aside and concentrate on the question. A vein appears in my temple holding the desire to explode.
"It looks cute like this, Smoker-san" Cute? I don't know if it's more than that, but I feel my cheeks starting to burn.
"Answer me the question, ___."
"I already answered you, Smoker-san."
I was already getting on my nerves with this little girl. I bite hard on my cigars feeling the taste of the grass that is made. The little brat is making fun of me and that makes my patience limited. Why do you have to be like that with me? Are you torturing me mentally and physically?
"If I were, I wouldn't be talking to Smoker-san.  However, I have respect for you and as far as I know there is no problem with you.Maybe you need some kind of rest..."
It's over! I stretch out my arm towards her, thanks to the Fruit of the Devil, and pose strongly towards the counter, making the young woman afraid of such an act. With that, I get up and walk towards her. I perceive fear and tension in the girl who was just standing still. Having her so close to me increases my excitement and I have the feeling that she is noticing.
The young woman, with determination, is turning, but I prevent her from doing so by putting her other arm almost in a corner. She is helpless in this position.
"Do you think I'm stupid enough not to realize what you're trying to do?"
The young woman's breath becomes more choppy as she feels mine. And even more so when I'm smoking near her.
"I knew something was up," I say very close to her ear, "I can tell by the way you dress. The smell coming from her neck was driving me crazy. "You always wear looser clothes, but lately you've been wearing these kinds of clothes." Without any shame, with one of my hands I start to go through those fabrics that were making me a little bit annoyed and at the same time it excites me. "A short skirt... so fucking provocative to my eyes..."
"Smoker-san" Is this my stuff or did he just moan?
"So short that it makes me want to rip off your panties and penetrate you hard..." I feel her body shaking under me, is that good or bad? "And this...," I slowly turn her around forcing her to look at me while I pull that shirt, "a simple cleavage that makes you more attractive than normal and on top of that almost showing off your breasts."
"Smoker-san..."
"Something to say, brat?"
She didn't say anything, she just looked at me. Her eyes shine and I wouldn't know if it's pure excitement or what, but it's a way of saying that what I was trying to do was to get that way. Well, she's done it, she should be proud of that brat.
"Do you like me, brat?"
That's where the trigger question comes in. ___'s face becomes redder than usual, she looks tender in that state. Girl, if you knew what you were doing provoking me like that.
"S-Smoker-san... I..."
"Stop being so fucking cute." I know a vein is growing in me. I bring my face closer to hers, feeling that our breaths are diminishing. "You just make me want to break this sexual tension between us." I bring my body closer, already feeling friction in my limb against hers, and a slight groaning from her lips. "And believe me... I will do it." I was determined, fate wanted this. Just a little and I would be kissing those fleshy lips that had caught my attention. She doesn't respond just by opening them wanting to receive a kiss from me. It was only a short while away...
"Vice Admiral! Vice Admiral Smoker!" The magic is broken when I hear one of the Marines enter the kitchen." S-Sir... Am I interrupting something?"
Damn it! I almost made her mine in the kitchen and she has to come and crush the party. My eyes are fixed on the girl who was looking at me with some shame. I move away from her so that there is no discomfort from both of us. I turn my body completely around to meet the soldier.
"What happens?
"Captain Tashigi has slipped again."
What?! You come here to tell me that Tashigi has slipped because he's so clumsy?! And I've got a fucking urge between my legs! That brat... I rest my head in my hand, holding on to my desire not to explode.
"We'll get back to business," I said to ___ to keep in mind that our game wasn't going to end here. I walk towards the door with a dog's grumpiness closing tightly, "Tashigi! What the hell have you tried to do?!"
It was already night and everyone had eaten dinner including Smoker-san. I still can't forget what was going to happen in the kitchen. Did he really want to do it with me there? I didn't think my plan was going to work. During the whole dinner I kept looking as if I was analyzing or planning something related to me.
I just hope it's nothing perverted. Shit! Why should I have noticed a man like that? He's so attractive with that kind of intimidation. I love dominant men and he is one of them. I doubt very much that he's been with many women, but I'm curious as he is in bed. And the question he asked me... well that has made it clear that I really like him because I haven't said a single word.
Now the doubt is what will happen between us. Will there be more sexual tension than before? I don't know, but it's really uncomfortable.
Well, I'm done washing the dishes that were too many. Thank God Tashigi stayed with me for a while to help me with the cooking. Without her, I'd be about two hours. And knowing how clumsy she is... But well, she's my age and we're still in our youth, as some people say.
I go to the table to set things up and something catches my eye. I look at one of the corners and there are two unused cigars. How strange Smoker-san would not leave one of his favourite elements anywhere. This amazes me as I raise my eyebrow looking seriously at the cigars. I take them carefully and stare at them. There was no sign that they were being used. But why? I think the best solution is to take them away before they get a rage or something.
With everything packed up, I leave the kitchen to go to Smoker-san's room, which was not far from here. It's to go through all the crew's cabins and get to him. How could I have gotten into the G-5? I don't know myself. Although I've always wanted to get out of my village. It was a bit boring, honestly. And being with the Vice Admiral... maybe I went crazy with all this sexual tension along the way.
I hear slight snoring from the Marines. The poor guys having a pretty hard training will be exhausted. Sometimes, Smoker-san goes too far with them, but I can't blame him. He is their superior, after all.
He was already standing in front of the Vice Admiral's door, and decidedly walked in with some care to see if he was there. And he wasn't. Now that's strange. He'd be in his room by now. Well better, so I can leave his cigars on the table and leave quietly.
I go to the furniture and leave them there. But my eyes stick to Smoker-san's big coat that is hanging on the chair. My cheeks turn red as if they were volcanoes about to erupt. I shouldn't, but I take it with my hands and bring it close to my face to smell that essence of man. Smoke and cigars. Typical smell of Smoker-san and with a touch of masculine fragrance. That man was driving me crazy.
"What are you doing in my room, you little brat?"
Suddenly my eyes open like plates at the sound of that recognisable voice. How the hell did I not hear the door open? I quickly leave his coat on the chair, I hope he didn't notice.
"I came here because he had left some cigars in the kitchen..."
Serious mistake when I turned to see him and explain the situation. My heart starts pumping hard and my body trembles because my eyes are seeing something that is forbidden for any woman.
I have in front of me a naked Smoker who was only covered by a towel on his waist! Wait, has he been in the bathroom? Oh, God, his muscular body full of scars, is decorated with drops of water as if they were pearls. Her hair is a bit messy, not with the typical hairstyle she always wears. And her cigars... God! I feel like taking them off and kissing him right now!
"Oh... how absurd of me." And you say it so calmly?!
"Y-Yes..." My nerves are in bloom, I couldn't look away from that monument. "I-I better go. Yes, I'll let you rest. G-Good night..."
I walk a bit hastily to the door, afraid that he will say something. I don't want to look at him, I just want to get out of this rather embarrassing situation. I was almost at the door. I can feel the freedom. My hand caresses the doorknob about to open it.
However, everything broke when I heard a loud knock near my face preventing me from leaving. It was no more and no less than his outstretched arm thanks to the Moku Moku no Mi. Was it the end of me?
Just let her go? It was clear that this brat would never learn. I exhale the smoke from my mouth with all the tranquillity of the world without stopping looking at her body. Still and immobile as I like. So obedient and so... submissive?
"___ turn around," I command what she turns around to with some fear.
"S-Smoker-san, you need to rest." And I will have it, brat.
"Don't you remember what I said this afternoon?" Now her cheeks turn redder than before to which I smile complacently
"S-Smoker-san please..."
"Are you asking for mercy, you little brat?" I walk towards her and stretch out my other arm, cornering her again. This time there was nothing or no one to bother us
"Smoker-san..."
"The game has only just begun, besides...," I take the cigars out of my mouth by throwing them on the floor and then I trample on them by putting out the fire, "this time you won't run away from me."
___ was about to say something, but I shut her up by finally kissing her. For seconds she was static like a lifeless piece of furniture when she received such a thing. However, that happened when I felt her hands resting on my head slowly caressing my hair. That meant she was kissing me back. A kiss that was being eternal for both of us. And I didn't care, I just wanted to enjoy this moment.
I bring my hands towards his body caressing slowly. Running my fingers through every pore of her skin. Until one of my hands rests under her thigh and the other one squeezes her hair intensifying the kiss. But because of the lack of oxygen we had to separate, inhaling mouthfuls of air. How I loved to see her like that, her cheeks decorated by that colour tone that made her look so tender and defenceless before anyone. Before me.
I couldn't wait to kiss her again, but with more fury than before. This kiss showed a hint of my dominance over her. I was in charge here. I was the one who was more in need than she was at that moment. Oh, you are noticing it, aren't you, little one? Your moaning gave you away when you felt my member, still covered by the towel, touching your belly. I smile mentally when I know that. But you are so small and fragile that it can't hurt you.
I straddle her so as to be at my height while she takes advantage of surrounding my hips with her legs. That position was too intimidating for both of us and we know it perfectly well, but neither of us said anything. We just enjoyed this special contact between the two of us. Tonight you will be my brat.
We walked away from that door to walk slowly towards the bed and leave it on the sheets while I get on top of it without crushing it. God, her face makes me horny. Her eyes show that hint of excitement, you could tell by the glow in her eyes. She is provoking me and she knows it perfectly.
She raises her hands towards my face touching every part of it, caressing that scar that decorates it. A scar made by one of my battles in finding the crew of Mugiwara based on my training. Oh child your hands are as soft as a baby's that makes me smile tenderly at what you are simply blushing.
"Smoker-san... regarding your question earlier..."
"Not now, ___. Now think about what's going to happen tonight," I whisper near her ear and then bite her earlobe receiving a little whimper from her.
I was about to start the game with what I do again with my hands, caressing every touch of her skin. She trembles at my mercy and I liked that very much. But these clothes are in my way. They were a nuisance to my eyes, but I didn't want to be rude to her.
I feel myself grabbing the young woman's wrists, forcing her to sit astride me. She makes a sound of surprise when she notices the little present between my legs. Oh, how I liked to bother her like that and make her a little shy. Her look said it all, she was confused, she doesn't know what to expect.
With dexterity, I remove that neckline that had been provoking me for a few days, thus revealing a black bra. If it were white, it would have already conquered me in a supernatural way. But black suited her. By pure instinct, she covered her breast to what I stopped her.
"You shouldn't do that, after all, they'll be beautiful."
"Don't say such things, Smoker-san!" Her nerves are blossoming every minute.
Doesn't she realize that she's the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen? I approach her face, but this time my lips go to her neck kissing it, licking it, and biting it marking what is mine. She groans and trembles with delight, I even feel that at any moment she may melt before my hands. However, she doesn't know that I was looking at her back so that I could unbutton that bra which is a hindrance to my eyes.
I unhooked it and took it off watching those mountains being decorated by those pink nipples. She was about to cover herself but I quickly grabbed her hands to what she was complaining about.
"Every woman is always ashamed," I comment honestly, "but that's normal.
"I'm not used to it," she tells me frankly as she rests her forehead on hers without taking my eyes off hers.
"Stop being so tender and kind, please," I beg her by putting her to bed again, "you're making me horny and not so kind to you.
That left her a bit bewildered and her shyness became more noticeable. Fuck! I tell her and she follows! Well, if you want a war, you'll get one. I bend my head towards her breasts and decisively start biting and licking one of her nipples while caressing the other one with my hand. Her moaning becomes noticeable that she was liking it. I will make you beg, girl. I will make you enjoy like never before.
With the Devil's Fruit in my possession, I create a kind of cloud shackles around her wrists immobilizing her completely. This time you are my hands and in my domain. You will not escape from me so easily.
"S-Smoker-san..."
"S-Smoker..." I get her attention while dominating her nipple.
"L-Like it?" What if I like it? Of course I fucking like it!
"Stop asking such obvious questions and concentrate." As a punishment I pinch the other nipple receiving a moan from her.
"Smoker-san!"
How I like you to moan my name while I make you have pleasure. This towel is getting in my way a lot. My limb was getting bigger and bigger in this stupid garment. I just grunt something frustrated so I decide to take it off, having some release. Feeling like releasing a part of you is a nice thing.
I can't stop looking at the girl who was only struggling to groan more and more before my tongue and my touch. With my free hand I slowly descend to her skirt to which I decide to take it off along with her panties, leaving her in a state of liberation. Now we are both naked. Skin and soul.
But my daring followed more so I run my fingers along those thighs that made me want to bite and lick them. Until I reached her intimacy noticing a small and slippery essence that slipped down the young woman's legs. Juices of excitement I thought with pride. The young woman is trembling under my body, a sign that she is sensitive in that area.
"S-Smoker-san..." Why are your moans so deeply sexy to my ears?
"Enjoy...," I snore, implying that I was liking the way she called me.
I leave her breasts alone and then focus on leaving kisses and licks all over her belly watching her shrink. Lovely, isn't it? But my goal was much greater than that. My kisses descend little by little reaching her pelvis until I notice how she tensed when she felt my breath on her sex.
"N-No look please..."
"Don't tempt me, ___."
"B-But... Ah!"
I don't want to hear any word in it, I just want to hear those moans that provoke me so much that I start licking her clitoris with some savagery. She is moving her legs a little bit uncomfortable, but with my smoke coming out of my body I held them steady and open for me.
Her essence was driving me crazy, I wanted more from her. I vehemently nibbled her clitoris receiving more screams from the girl holding my hair tightly. Was it a way to make her stop? No, I was rather pressing my head on her sex, wanting more of my hot tongue. Feels good, doesn't it? You like my tongue running all over you while I add a finger moving it slowly inside you.
I know you're going crazy. You wish to have me inside and I wish the same. My dick is so hard. And it hurts so much. I want to fuck her, I can't take it anymore. And she was about to have an orgasm, as I feel her body tighten and give small spasms. I, with my pride in presence, withdraw my tongue and my fingers in her receiving a complaint from her. Did I already say that I liked to bother her?
However, she knows perfectly well what was going to happen now. I watch her bite her lower lip with a desire to have me inside. I wanted it more than she did. I stand at the height of her face without taking my eyes off her and I rest my forehead on hers.
"Are you ready?
"Yes, Smoker-san." She puts her arms around my neck, even knowing that her wrists were chained.
"I'll fuck you...," I whisper near her ear, "hard."
She was going to say something, she always has to say something, but I always interrupt her and this time I penetrated her with all the strength in the world. I receive a groan from her near my lips that I cannot stand and I kiss her, where she corresponds with pleasure.
For Kami, to be inside her is incredible. So hot and excited provoked by me. This is a time bomb so I had no choice but to start moving quite hard no matter if she hurts or not.
But her face was just the opposite, she was enjoying the damn thing. So she likes rough sex, huh? Then I won't stop moving that way to please you. I feel how it raises the hips wanting to feel more that wild penetration from me. At no time did our lips separate because we felt that, if we did, this would be more than a wet dream.
It is reality. Pure reality. May this last for all fucking eternity. Having her in my room, all by myself, makes me feel the luckiest man of all the seven seas. Our moans echo inside my room, there was only her and I no one else to interrupt us. Fuck if my men are listening to me. Fuck everything. Now I want to focus on this exquisite feeling.
My movements become faster and more erratic feeling like I was slowly reaching the limit. And I was not alone. ___ was shaking, her eyes were tearing up from the pleasure I was feeling right now.
"S-Smoker-san!"
"J-Just a little more..."
"I-I can't take it anymore!" She hugs me tightly, digging her nails into my back with force. "S-Smoker-san!"
And from one moment to the next, we both reach orgasm feeling how its vaginal walls imprison my member while I cum inside.God, how long has it been since I had this feeling of liberation?  Our breaths are intermingled by inhaling a little air into our lungs.
I slowly caress her face as she smiles at me. Her smile is as radiant as ever.
"Smoker-san..." She rests her hands on my cheeks and then tells me what I was waiting to hear:
"I like you".
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*Leonardo x Fem! Reader* A Princess and a Frog Au pt 3
Story Prompt: Leonardo was the second eldest prince to the Kingdom of Shangrao. You're a woman who works to make a dream become a reality in New Orleans.
Who could guess that with new experiences, new dangers lurk around every corner?
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Big News
Chef Rupert hit the bell with his spatula, signaling you that orders were ready.
"Order up!"
You began to walk up to get the next orders, a man raised his coffee mug towards you.
"Another coffee here, chère."
You quickly turned and grabbed the coffee pitcher of your server plate.
"Coming right up, Virgil."
Just as you finished pouring Virgil's coffee, a woman raised her hand up and waved to you.
"Hey, Y/n!"
You briskly walked over to the woman and the group she was with in a booth table.
"Morning, Georgia."
The group variously greeted you as you put the coffee pitcher on the table.
"Hey, guys."
"We all going out dancing tonight. Care to join us?"
The rest of the group chimed in saying various positive things to try and persuade you to come join them.
"Oh, you all know I love to dance but I'm-"
You noticed hat a toddler was having a messy eating situation, so you pulled out a napkin from your dresses breast pocket.
"-You need a napkin, sweetheart?-"
After you gave the toddler the napkin, you speed walked over to a gentleman table over to give him his pancakes.
"-I'm going to work a double shift tonight.-Here are your hotcakes.-You know, so I can..."
Georgia from the group chimed in, interrupting you.
"So you can save for your restaurant. I know, I know. Girl, all you ever do is work."
Chef Swaggart hit the bell again, getting impatient.
"Order up!"
You turned your head in the direction of Swaggart and looked back to the group, and apologetic look displayed on your face.
"Maybe next time."
As you began walking away, the other girl among the group, who's name was Violet, spoke to the group.
"I told ya'll she wouldn't come."
You looked back to the group ever so slightly, feeling a little down.
"Are you talking about that blasted restaurant again?"
You walked over to the counter to grab the order Swaggart had made for a customer.
"Swaggart, your eggs are burning."
"Oh! you ain't never going to get enough for the down payment!"
Swaggart stared back at the eggs, making sure they wouldn't burn.
"I'm getting close."
"Yeah, how close?"
You, who had just about enough of Swaggart's persnickety-ness, changed the subject.
"Where are my flapjacks?"
Swaggart obnoxiously laughed, he then began piling orders onto you, to which you caught.
"You've got 'bout as much a chance of getting that restaurant as I do of winning the Kentucky Derby!"
Swaggart continued to boast, so you decided to walk away, tuning Swaggart out, and hand out the orders to there respective customers.
As you were handing the orders out, Mr. La Bouff walked in.
"Morning, Mr. La Bouff."
"Good morning, Y/n."
As you were handing out pancakes to a gentleman, you spoke with Mr. La Bouff.
"Congratulations on being voted King of the Mardi Gras parade."
Mr. La Bouff sat himself down at a table in front of a window.
"Caught me completely by surprise, for the fifth year in a row!"
Mr. La Bouff laughed at his own statement, while you smiled amusingly at him.
"Now, how about I celebrate with-"
You speed walked over and put a plate of beignets in front of him.
"Beignets? Got a fresh batch just waiting for you."
Mr. La Bouff picked a beignet off the plate, ready to eat it.
"Well, keep 'em coming till I pass out."
Just as Mr. La Bouff took a bite out of his beignet, Lottie came bursting in.
"Oh, Y/n/n!"
Lottie excitedly waltzed over to you, you chuckled at her never ending upbeat attitude.
"Hey, Lottie."
"Y/n/n, Y/n/n, Y/n/n, did you hear the news?"
Lottie then quickly sat down at the table her father was seated at.
"Tell her. Oh, tell her Big Daddy!"
Mr. La Bouff finished off a beignet and took out a newspaper.
"Oh, yeah, Prince Leonardo-"
Lottie quickly turned to you in pure excitement and wrapped her fur shawl around you like a hug.
"Prince Leonardo of Shangrao is coming to New Orleans!"
Lottie squealed and flutter kicked her legs up.
"Oh! Isn't he the bee's knees? Ooh!"
Lottie turned to around to speak directly to her father.
"Tell her what you you did, Big Daddy."
Lottie then began to shake Mr. La Bouff in pure anticipation.
"Tell her!"
After Mr. La Bouff recollected himself from Lottie shaking him, he tried to speak again.
"Well, I invited-"
Lottie, once again interrupted her father.
"Big Daddy invited the prince to a masquerade ball tonight! Oh!"
As Lottie talked, you put down a used coffee creamer pitcher and a coffee cup as Mr. la Bouff grabbed another beignet of his plate.
"Ooh, tell her what else you did, Big Daddy."
Everything was silent for a moment.
"Go on."
"And he's staying-"
"And he's staying-!"
Mr. La Bouff shoved a beignet in his daughter's mouth, in the hopes that he could finally talk, without being interrupted.
"And he's staying in our house as my personal guest."
Mr. La Bouff exhaled, relieved he at least got a sentence out. Lottie nodded along, her mouth still stuffed with a beignet.
"Oh, Lottie, that's swell."
You walked over to the La Bouff's with another plate of beignets.
"A little word of advice. My mama always said, "The quickest way a man's heart, is through his stomach."
You lightly patted your stomach to emphasize your words and walked away to continue serving other customers.
And in that moment, Lottie's eyes widened as she got an idea.
"Ah! That's it!"
Lottie swiped the beignet that was in her father's hand he was about to eat.
"What just happened?"
Lottie eagerly speed walked over to you.
"Oh, Y/n/n!"
Lottie hugged you from behind as you were putting away a tray.
"You're a bona fide genius!"
You amusingly hummed in response to Lottie.
"I'm gonna need about 500 of your man-catching beignets for my ball tonight. Excuse me, Daddy."
Lottie walked back over to her father, stuffed his mouth with a beignet and grabbed some cash out of his wallet.
"Will this about cover it?"
Lottie handed the money to you and you could barely pronounce a word at what just transpired.
"This...This should cover it just fine, Lottie. This is it! I'm getting my restaurant!"
Lottie whooped in celebration and she speed walked over to her father again. Rupert was in utter shock at what just went down.
"Ooh, tonight my prince is finally coming!"
And once again, just as Mr. La Bouff was about to eat another beignet, Lottie stopped him.
"And I sure as heck ain't letting him go!"
And with that the La Bouff's left the café. Draxum, who was sitting a table near a corner table peered over the menu he hide his face with.
He had a look of mischief on his face while his shadow's smile curled up, sinisterly.
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snowyerebor · 19 days
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Lovestruck - Chapter 1
This was supposed to be a one shot but I don't know what happened because I plan to write more chapters.
AO3: [ X ]
Pairing: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Summary: Bilbo finds himself enamored with Thorin Oakenshield and somehow convinces himself to join their dangerous quest to reclaim The Lonely Mountain.
What the hell are all these barbaric dwarves doing in my home, dirtying my floors with their muddy shoes, raiding my kitchen, and eating all my food? They’re even using all my fancy dishware!
Bilbo stood in the hallway, huffing, and puffing to himself in disbelief. Where did they come from? First it was two, then four, then three, then three again! He walked back and forth near the front door. How many more were there? Why were they in his home anyway, or even in the shire itself, dwarves hardly ever came around these parts. He stopped pacing and rubbed the side of his head with one hand. It must have something to do with the wizard who stopped by this morning. Everything went awry today after meeting him on the doorstep.
A dwarf, Bombur he said his name was, called out, “Hey Bilbo, we need some more apple-tarts this way, and more of that red wine, if you’ve got it.” Bombur asked another Dwarf, “Hey Dwalin, pass the white wine.”
“None of that, Bombur. We need some Ale. Laddy! If you could, and bring the pitchers!” Dwalin shouted.
Bilbo just rolled his eyes. It would take the whole market twice over to restock his kitchen! He rummaged around and brought out some apple-tarts, baked bread, pickles, and scones. He returned to the kitchen and refilled his arms with wines and brown beers. He felt just as uncomfortable not serving them food. Technically, they were still guests, as uninvited as they were! How ridiculous this all was. There was hardly any time at all to have a meal himself before they began to show up. Bilbo looked out of the circle window next to the front door. It was a late at night, the moon shining full. If only he were alone tonight to read a book by the fire and have blanket draped over his lap. He let out another sigh of frustration. Weapons, cloaks, and mud lay all around the floor. Bilbo walked to his dining area, checking on further damage.
The Dwarf named Dwalin made eye contact with Bilbo and held a threatening expression. Bilbo felt himself swallow before speaking. He asked them politely, “By the way, how many more of your party will be arriving?” An older dwarf, Balin, nodded. “We’re all here. Just waiting on him.” So, this was nearly all of them? He hardly believed it. More had to have been coming. Soon his home wouldn’t be big enough!
Before responding, he heard another heavy knock at the door and turned around to answer. He opened the door and there awaited the Wizard from earlier, Gandalf.
He looked in at Bilbo. “Gandalf! Finally, you arrive” Bilbo said to him as he crouched to enter the Hobbit’s home that was about half his size. “What exactly is unfolding here? Why are all these Dwarves in my home!” Gandalf looked down at him, “Now, Bilbo, I know how great of a host you are.” Bilbo put his hands on his hips in defiance, “I know you have something to do with this. Out with it!” Gandalf looked at Bilbo somewhat amusingly before smiling and wandering to where to others were. “Oh, yes, of course, thank you for the insightful information.” He sarcastically added.
He looked after Gandalf. What is really going on here? He huffed and puffed again. Nobody is telling him anything! Roaring laughter could be heard from the other room. It irritated him. He wished he could be in as good of a mood as they seemed to be in. He turned in the opposite direction towards the living room and sat in the chair for a moment to catch his breath.
Hardly a moment later, an even louder knock thundered at the door. “It’s him” he heard Dwalin state from the pantry. Bilbo stood up and walked quickly towards the front door. The others began to emerge from the dining room to greet the final guest. Bilbo opened the door, ready to ask who this last Dwarf thought he was, arriving unexpected to his home with all his friends. However, when he opened the door, the Dwarf standing on his doorstep seemed to hold such a powerful presence that Bilbo became a little intimated and instead settled for a “good evening." Under the moonlight, the Dwarf's gaze was fixed on Bilbo, dark and intense. It nearly sent a shiver down his spine.
“Thorin, welcome” Gandalf spoke. The Dwarf walked right past Bilbo with heavy steps, removing his cloak, and only giving him a glance. Two dwarves called out, “Uncle! You’ve arrived! It’s about time.” They both came over with wide grins on their faces. “My precious nephews, Fili, Kili. How did you make it here before me?” He chuckled and gave a firm pat to the tops their shoulders.
Gandalf took a step next to Bilbo. “Bilbo, this is our final guest. I would like to introduce you to Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror.” Gandalf gestured towards Thorin, then towards Bilbo, who still stood by the open door. “Thorin, this is our Burglar, Mr. Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin turned from his nieces and glanced over in Bilbo's direction. Without waiting for a response, Gandalf and the Dwarves went back to the dining area eager to continue their reunion.
Thorin lingered behind for a moment, nodding at Bilbo in greeting with a small smile. Or maybe a smirk. Bilbo felt a bit dumbstruck. Standing there with a dazed look on his face. Compared to the others, Thorin’s aura was more demanding, it was powerful and masculine, appropriate for a Dwarf with such a grand title. Yet, he did not feel at all dangerous, although Bilbo was sure that he could be if he wanted to. He stood slightly taller than Bilbo as well, but his obviously muscular form made the hobbit feel much smaller.
Thorin spoke, “Master Baggins.” He looked at Bilbo and then to the door that was still wide open. Bilbo felt the cool breeze flowing in and realized he had been silently standing there looking at Thorin without even closing the front door. What a grand fool he appeared to be. He quickly closed the door and turned back around. Thorin briefly scanned Bilbo's height, build, and appearance and then went to join the others. Bilbo pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed. Just a few moments ago he was all worked up, and now he felt as if he needed to catch the breath which had escaped him. 
He hurriedly re-arranged the hanging cloaks and scattered bags, then went to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. What was that about? He could hardly say anything back there. Thorin had captured Bilbo's full attention, and, for some reason, he found the Dwarf to be quite... alluring. It was a strange feeling. And, of course, he made a fool of himself. He decided to try and brush it off. He washed his hands, took a few breaths, and left for the pantry. He grabbed a few extra slices of his homemade honey bread and then returned to the group with a brave face. To Bilbo’s surprise they had finished washing up all the extra dishes and had been in a deep discussion. He heard Thorin discuss his grandfather, the history of Dale, and the wickedness of a dragon as he stood behind, near the edge of the room.
Bilbo could not help but listen to his every word. The others sat around the table and appeared to be listening just as intently. Bilbo quietly set the food down on the side table. Thorin then noticed his presence in the doorframe behind. 
“Our quest is to reclaim The Lonely Mountain. Make a home for our kind under the mountain once again. Take back what is ours. That beast Smaug does not belong, and his time must come to an end.”
He paused to let it sink in, then continued.
“The 13 of us, myself, my kin, and my brethren, will make up this quest along with Gandalf and... a burglar.” Thorin glanced at Bilbo to the side. Was he referring to me? A burglar? Thorin said the last word as if it were amusing! He gave Thorin with an accusatory look.
Gandalf looked at Bilbo from the side of the table, “which I chose to be you. You may not think so, but you will be a fine burglar on this quest” he says with a smile in attempt to lighten Bilbo's mood. This sounded incredibly dangerous and uncomfortable. He would never survive. His face went a little pale and his mouth dry. “I'm sorry, but once again, are you sure you have the right Hobbit?”
Gandalf stood up, “I chose you with confidence. I assure you, there is reason to my decision. As a hobbit, your stealth would be incredibly useful, and your kind are surprisingly brave and clever little creatures.”
Thorin stood from chair and turned around to join in, “I don't know much of your kind, Master Baggins. If I'm being honest, I am unsure of your ability to survive this quest” Bilbo looked to Thorin, making eye contact. Bilbo felt his chest squeeze. Why was he suddenly feeling nervous around someone he had just met? Especially someone who thought that he was some sort of weakling.
“However... if Gandalf is sure of you, then I will certainly trust his choice, should you agree.” The others slightly nod their heads in agreement. Thorin still looked at Bilbo, waiting for some sort of response. Flustered, Bilbo looks down at the ground, “I'm... I'm not sure. This is all quite sudden.” He suddenly felt hot. There was sweat on his forehead. As righteous as the reason was for such a quest, he would be risking his life.
Balin reached over and handed him a contract, “No pressure lad, but we do plan to leave tomorrow morning. Here is the contract. All you do is sign your name. By tomorrow morning.” Bilbo took the contract and got up in daze to sit in the next room, thinking to himself. Everyone else slowly continued chatting.
The fact that Thorin and the others lost their home pulled at his heart with empathy. As a homebody who loved the comforts of his own home, he could understand the dwarves. Forming together for such a cause was incredibly fascinating and righteous. Like old tales told in the shire. It was intimidating for someone who had only known of afternoon tea and gardening, but he had to admit that it felt exhilarating to be talking of an adventure.
Now, it was much later into the night. The dwarves gathered around Bilbo’s living room. Thorin stood closest to the fireplace and began to lead the vocals to a song. All of the others slowly gathered closer to join in. Gandalf sat in the corner silently observing the musical spirit of dwarves and appeared to be deep in thought.
A bit reluctantly, Bilbo then looked to observe Thorin. The warm embers of the fire illuminated his face. His deep voice spread throughout the room with heavy emotion hanging onto each word of the song. Bilbo tried to observe him without being obvious. He noticed how wide and broad his shoulders were. His dark beard and mustache complimented his jawline, and matched the thick hair that fell down in waves just past his shoulders. The black and silver shades somehow made Thorin's gaze from before much more vivid, his deep blue eyes reminding Bilbo of the sky above. Suddenly, those eyes look down to see Bilbo gazing. He quickly looked away to pretend as if he was looking at something else.
He tapped his fingers against the arm rest. He supposed that Thorin was not particularly unattractive considering Dwarven appearances. As far as Bilbo knew, which was quite little, their kind was known to have long beards and stocky, bold builds. Based on how the others in the company looked up to Thorin with great respect, it was clear to him that he was not only handsome, but loyal and brave as well. It was the first time for him to meet someone like Thorin.
Bilbo found himself utterly captivated.
He then pulled himself back to reality. What was he doing? Why was he fawning over some Dwarf who stood a few feet away? He was surprised at his own thoughts, and he did not want to admit what he was suddenly feeling. He had not had a crush on anyone since his teen years long ago, and had never even experienced being in a relationship. What did he know? Was this genuine attraction or just newfound infatuation?
As he simmered in thought, bewildered at what he was feeling, the Dwarves moved to more hushed discussions. There were expressions of both excitement and uncertainty. Bilbo stood up to leave. His nerves had settled a bit and it was about time for him to go to bed.
Balin saw Bilbo get up to leave and reminded him, “Remember, if you decide to join our company, you must meet us at by 11am sharp. We will not wait for you, but we all sincerely hope you will be there.”
Bilbo went to his bedroom, laid down on his pillow, and let out a tired sigh. He gently rubbed his eyes. This whole day had been exhausting and the amount of information he had to take in on one night made his head heavy. After a few moments Bilbo remembered the contract presented to him by Balin earlier. He sat up to take it out of his pocket and peer over it once more. He didn’t know what to do. Regardless if that dwarf was the most handsome creature Bilbo had met, he still entered his home with all his kind to eat every piece of food in his kitchen! The whole group of dwarves were still a barbaric bunch that Bilbo wasn't sure he could get along with.
He wasn’t sure if this journey was something he was cut out for. He questioned his ability to even help the dwarves in any way. What if there really is a dragon? Or what if he gets eaten or crushed by some other large creature along the way? It was ridiculous to leave his home in the Shire. He would never be cut out for an adventure of this magnitude. Bilbo looked around his bedroom. The paintings and decorations on the walls, his comfortable chair in the corner, the quilted blanket across his bed, his heirlooms sitting on the shelf. This was all he had known for so many years. His felt reluctant to leave.
Yet, if he did not join them, then he would undoubtedly remain here. Daily life would continue and each day would be the same. Such an opportunity would probably never present itself on the doorstep again. Bilbo loved his afternoon tea and mornings in the garden, but where was the adventurous spirit he had always had? He remembered chasing fairies when he was young. Running under the stars with his friends.
Truly, he wanted to help them, and Gandalf was confident that he could be of value. That had to count for something. Bilbo scoffed to himself. He could not believe it, but in tune with his adventurous spirit, he decided to join the company as their designated burglar. Whatever that would entail. He made up his mind. Regardless of how others viewed him, he knew that making this choice was the right thing to do. Excitement began bubble in his chest. Putting the contract on the nearby table, he grabbed his ink pen and signed his name.
Signed: Thorin son of Thrain
Witnessed: Balin son of Fundin
Burglar: Bilbo Baggins
Now that it was official, his body needed to rest. All the commotion and deep thinking back and forth was utterly exhausting. With a sigh, he nestled in between his quilted blankets and closed his eyes to thoughts of tomorrow's breakfast. He would make sure that it was especially delicious to make up for the meal he was deprived of earlier that evening.
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my-soupy-brain · 8 months
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heatwave thoughts. Skiving off work with ted cause it’s simply too hot outside. Turning all the fans on, spraying him with the garden hose (bonus points if it makes his white t-shirt all wet 😁😁🤭🤭).
I don't know if the heatwave broke there or not, it's still here in the U.S. but I love this idea and also playing in water when you're an adult feels like being a kid, and Ted is all about it. Let's gooo!
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Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader
Warnings: Lust and light smut ahead
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This heat was just not conducive for the team to practice. It was too hot, too dangerous, and Rebecca and the coaching team agreed that it was time for a day off.
So when Ted waltzed back through the door of your shared flat, you were more than happy to see his face again.
You wore as little as you could. The window a/c unit you had wasn't cutting it. A lightweight tank top and your underwear would have to do for now.
While Teddy was gone this morning you'd put all the fans you could find on full blast, your feet propped up on the coffee table with a glass of iced sun tea in your hand.
As soon as he walked in the door, he was sweating.
"Good golly, Miss Molly! It's miserable out there!" he shouts over the whir of the fans.
"I know! So far the bedroom is fairly cool but the rest of the house is sweltering!" you shout back. "Want some tea?"
He looks at you and nods, stripping off his polo, then his khakis left only in his boxer briefs and t-shirt where he sits next to you on the couch.
"No one better come to the door today," you joke, taking a sip of te a.
Ted looks at the two of you, practically matching in your white tops and navy blue underwear.
"Yeah but we look like one of them old-school Gap commercials, too" he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
When you pop up to refill your tea, he taps your bottom.
"I don't mind the view though," he shouts from the living room, making you chuckle as you bring the pitcher into the living room.
"I don't either there, UPS man," you joke with a wink, making him tilt his head.
"You're carrying a big package there," you add to explain it, and he chuckles and blushes.
As you enjoy the fans and tea, you get an idea.
"I think I know another way we can beat the heat!"
Ted takes a sip. "Yeah? How's that?"
You hold your hand out to get him off the couch and lead him to the garden.
"Garden hose."
Ted laughs. "What, like we're kids again? You gonna spray me with that?"
When you twist the dial on the spigot, you aim the hose at yourself first, drenching yourself in the cool water.
"Ohhhhh yeah, this is where it's at!" you shout, running it through your hair.
Ted watches the water soak your white tank top, your nipples reacting to the cold temperature. It's like a slow-motion 80s hair metal music video, watching you douse yourself with the hose.
Before he can react anymore, uh, physically to what he's seeing, you're aiming the hose at him.
"Ready, Teddy?" you ask with a smile, and he looks down, his cock tenting his underwear. Well, the cold water will help.
"Hit me, baby!" he shouts, and your thumb hovers the hole of the hose and sprays him.
And oh, Lord. You didn't know that wet, white t-shirts worked on men like it does on women. You can see his pecs, his chest hair, his tummy, all sticking to the white undershirt.
Was this cool water really working? Or are you heating up for another reason?
"Here, I have an idea..."
You attach the hose to a sprinkler attachment and lay it down on the lawn, letting the two of your stand in the stream of water as it moves.
Ted holds his hand out and pulls you to his chest, your bodies wet and sticky, but smiling as it drips off your noses and hair. You lean in to kiss him.
"Mmm, garden water," you smile to his lips. "Always tastes fresher than any other water."
Ted laughs, leaning his lips to your neck and sucking the water off there.
"Yeah, yeah it sure does."
His hands run down your body, over your tight nipples, down your hips and then to your ass. Your hands take their own journey across his broad shoulders and chest.
"You like this?" you whisper and he nods, kissing the water on your neck again.
"Mmm, it's the perfect way to beat the heat, darlin'..."
...
After frolicking in the garden, Ted walks you to your bedroom -- the only cool room in the house -- and strips you of your wet clothes, while he does the same.
You pull each other into bed, under the covers, enjoying the chill of the room while your bodies tangle in the sheets to make heat of your own.
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Ha! This was so fun! So much fun. Ted would so play in the garden hose, and be all about it. I loved this so much. Thank you so much for the prompt, friend!
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