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countrymusiclover · 4 months ago

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30 - Finding the Wardrobe

Part 31

The Siphoning Princess

Tag list [ @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @onentaien-kwara @maximedallas @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Jaide's pov

Hook and I trekked through the thick forest surrounding us. I wished I didn't have to trust the word of a pirate who desires to kill my father but sadly we are where we are. I needed to find my daughter, make sure she was okay and get us back home to our family. "They say a captor has a right to know his captor's identity. So tell me Jaide what's your story?"

"You don't get to know mine, pirate. Just keep moving and take me to my daughter, please." I whispered the last word under my breath shifting the satchel bag up more onto my shoulder.

Hook couldn't handle the silence and kept talking anyway. "We're getting close. Can we make an arrangement that I get my heart back once I return you to your daughter?"

"Like I said that will come once I see that my daughter Emma is in fact alive! Now keep your mouth shut and keep walking."

We walked for a good while for a long while before finally coming up to an open clearing that appeared to be a village. Scanning the area I gasped covering my mouth once seeing all dead bodies laying everywhere in site. "Oh my god. Who - who could've done this? Emma - Emma!" Coming to the realization I ran around calling out her name praying that whoever did this hadn't killed her too.

"Maybe we should keep our voices down if they are hiding -" Hook got cut off gasping when someone pressed a sword to his throat with a figure standing behind him.

Raising a hand up the figure gasped collapsing onto the dirt with a hand to their throat. "Where's my daughter? Where's Emma?"

"Mom?" Whipping my head around I loosened my grip on the person with my magic seeing her standing a few feet away from me with a woman who was dressed up like a true princess.

"Emma - you're okay. Oh thank god." Breaking into a run I flung my arms around her neck and she stumbled back slowly wrapping her arms around me embracing the hug. "I thought someone might have killed you or what a second-"

Stomping over to the hooded figure after leaving my daughter for a brief moment I used magic to lift them up into the air choking them just a little bit. "Were you planning on killing my daughter?"

"At first yes - before she came here our prince was killed by the thing you would call a Wraith."

Dropping my hand letting the strange woman fall down onto the ground to catch her breath I knitted my brows together in slight confusion. "Our prince. What was his name? Maybe I knew him before the curse."

"His name was Phillip." The other woman wearing a flower headband on her head and a light pink dress with a thin white shawl thrown over her shoulders approached us. "My name is Aurora and you are?"

"I'm Jaide and that's my daughter Emma."

The princess nodded her head. "Why are you in our land?"

"It's a long story but we were originally from this land." I gently raised my hand softly speaking to the princess. "We didn't mean to come here. Now we just need a portal back to a land without magic where our family is."

"This land was spared from the famous curse. We're not certain that any portals exist" The other woman explained removing her hood and revealing a woman with black hair and tan skin dressed in war armor. "My name is Mulan."

"What about the castle I woke up in that has the ocean surrounding it?" Aurora asked, making me sigh in relief.

"That's our - my former home."

Mulan eyed the pirate laying on the ground. "Then we should start our journey there now. What are we going to do with him?"

"Listen to me, Captain Hook." Stomping over to the man with a hook I yanked him upright by the front of his shirt, getting in his face. "I'm going to give you this back but mark my word if you follow us I won't hesitate to kill you."

Hook gulped slowly, nodding his head. "Aye. I understand."

"Let's find our portal home." Taking his glowing heart out of the bag hanging across my body I gently pushed it back inside his chest with the other three just staring at us with concern.

Aurora came over to Emaa whispering. "Who exactly was your mother before the curse?"

"She um - was the Dark One's daughter." She replied to her slowly following me and Mulan as we grabbed some weapons and started our journey to the castle I thought I would raise my family in.

The four of us made our way to my former home without any problems to my surprise. Pushing the double doors opened my mouth fell open not expecting the room we walked into to be the bedroom I had imagined for my twin daughters. A nursery, with a crib built for two babies and several old toys laying around. The wardrobe is seen in the corner, which Emma recognizes crossing the room in shock. "Oh my god... I recognize this from Henry's book."

"I never thought I'd see this place again. This room... It was you and your sister's nursery." My mouth hangs open in utter shock that some of it was still all here. Brushing my fingers over the edge of the crib dust covered my fingertips. Shifting my gaze across the room I noticed two unicorns laying on the window seal that were supposed to go to my two daughters.

Emma gasped slowly looking around the room. "We lived here?"

"You never even got to spend a night. This is the life I wanted you to have. I was going to teach you how to walk in here. How to talk, how to dress for your first ball... You never got to do any of it. We never got to be a family." Tracing the initials engraved of each girl's name that was on the side of the crib.

Emma reminded me. "We have a family – in Storybrooke. And, right now, they need us to get back there. So, how do we get this to work?"

"So you really found your portal back home, aye Stilskin." We both sharply turned our heads around finding the asshole pirate walking through the double doors and over to us until I raised a hand launching him against the nearest wall, choking him with my magic.

"I gave you one hell of a warning, Captain Hook!"

He gasped sharply. "I didn't want Cora to hurt you or destroy your chances of getting back to your family - to your son Henry."

"How do you know that name? I never - Emma, who exactly did you tell his name to?" Glancing over my shoulder I eyed my daughter from across the room.

She shook her head slowly no. "No - except Cora." Before our eyes Hook smirked suddenly transformed and appeared through a cloud of purple smoke showing us someone who looked like Regina meaning it had to be her mother Cora.

"Clever girl."

Glaring at the dark woman. "Where's Captain Hook?"

"He's fetching me my other thing that I need to get to see my daughter and apparently now my grandson Henry." Cora explains simply.

Drawing my hand back I went to throw her across the room but she was quicker than I was. "No, you won't-" Cora waved a hand launching me away from her hand. My back slammed into the column and I grunted trying to break free.

"Jaide! -" Emma cried out my name attempting to come help me yet Cora used magic to wrap a blanket around her legs and threw her down onto her back near the wardrobe.

Emma silently removed the rug from around her legs finding a lighter. She managed to light a fire inside the wardrobe that gained Cora's attention. "Emma - It's over Cora. Looks like we both just lost our way to a land without magic." Collapsing down onto the floor when her attention was elsewhere I drew the sword on my hip. Scrambling to my feet I pressed the blade tip into her back.

"This isn't over, Jaide." Cora disappeared in a cloud of smoke leaving me and my daughter alone once more.

Emma gasped getting up from the ground eyeing the now burning wardrobe. "I'm, uh, sorry I torched our ride home. I couldn't let her get to Henry. I just-"

"You had to put Henry first." I finished her sentence with a grin.

Emma started speaking but before she could finish she began crying where I did the only thing I could think of to comfort her. "I was angry at you for so long... Wondering how you could choose to let me grow up without you. But then I just... Seeing all this... You gave up everything for me. And you're still doing that. I'm sorry, I'm not good at this. I... I guess I just... I'm not... I'm not used to someone putting me first."

"Well, get used to it, Emma-Tessa." Flinging my arms around her she buried her face into my shoulder while I cradled the back of her head in one of my hands simply holding her until she stopped crying. "Now come on we need to find somewhere to camp for the night and we'll think of another plan tomorrow."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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myulalie · 5 months ago

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I am open to Femslash February prompts suggestions

for Shadowhunters (I'm game for everything, just don't request Helen and Aline with anyone else than each other, they're my OTP).

also open to Arcane prompts for CaitVi. Can't promise I'll write it but I'll definitely share my thought process at least!

I might even try Teen Wolf femslash this year *gasp* fyi I've watched the show up to season 3 though so the only thing I l know about characters from later seasons is mostly their fanon counterparts.

I'm not into crossovers if you're wondering so no use in suggesting it, sorry!

I'm okay with AU and fusion though (so I can have Teen Wolf characters in a Hogwarts AU but they won't be meeting Hermione is all I'm saying).

I could be convinced to write genderbent pairs ;)

Squicks: pregnancy fics. Archive warnings, Incest, Infidelity, Lingerie, Mommy Kink, Humiliation. Non & Dubcon. OC as major characters. Outside POV.

Will post in February '25, obviously. If I get 28 prompts I like and actually write them I'll even make a nice visual lmao

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bunkodebunked · 2 years ago

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ATTENTION!!

Asks for Cloud Knight Cora are officially open!

You can ask almost anything, from background to her relationship with characters!

I'd like to use this as a method to dive deeper into Cora's character and get a chance to build her story as well as draw her and characters more often. So please, drop an ask!

#lmk fanart #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk oc #lego monkie kid oc #lmk oc art #monkie kid #art #ask box #ask: cloud knight cora

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hedwig221b · 2 months ago

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hi! i wanted to know ig you’ve got any recommendations of the pack knowing about stiles and derek even before they realised it for themselves lol. thanks in advance <3

Hi! Maybe you'll like these ones,

O Father of Mine by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"He told me he understood, and that he was happy we were both happy, and that if I hurt you he knew how to kill a Werewolf and where to hide a body.” Stiles paused in his task of spooning rice onto one of the plates, giving Derek a weird look. “My dad had a similarly confusing discussion with me this morning,” he admitted. “Yeah, I’m not sure I understand what he was talking about.” They stared at one another for a long while in silence. “Dude,” Stiles finally said. “Does my dad think we’re dating?” “Is that what that was?” Derek asked.

how to court a werewolf by graveltotempo

Stiles accidentally begins a courtship with Derek. Wary at first, the werewolf accepts, and Stiles ticks off all the boxes of a traditional Hale werewolf courting - oblivious to the whole thing. Because of course he is. Peter thinks the entire thing is hilarious. Cora thinks that they deserve each other. (spoiler alert: they do)

Welcome to Rosie's Diner can I interest you in an eye-opener? by crossroadswrite

When the unfairly attractive couple walks in, at their usual hour, Kat starts humming the wedding march. Jason elbows her sharply in the ribs, trying to hide his snicker even as he waves nicely at them. “Fuck they’re so pretty,” he sighs mournfully, “why did they have to be a couple, that’s just unfair.” “I know,” she commiserates. (Or: The one where Stiles and Derek are regulars at Rosie's diner and exactly zero of the employees believe they're not actually a couple, I mean come on look at them.)

Accident (Waiting to Happen) by Jerakeen

"You’re just jealous of our friendship,” Stiles says cattily, butting the top of his head more firmly into Derek’s armpit. “Right,” Scott says, putting his jacket on. “I’m jealous that I don’t get to snuggle on the couch with the two of you.” “Obviously,” Stiles agrees.

Stupid Say What? byisthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Stiles shoved another bite into his mouth, glancing over at Boyd and Erica. Boyd was smiling down into his eggs benedict and Erica was grinning at Stiles. He frowned in confusion, his chewing slowing. Tucking the food into one cheek, he asked, “What?” “Nothing. It’s just nice. I like when the four of us come out together. Our little double dates,” she teased, stabbing her fork into a strawberry and putting it between her lips. Stiles snorted at her comment, since this wasn’t a double date—he wished—but didn’t comment on it because he liked their outings, too. Even if he whined incessantly about it until he got there, it was always a good time.

Define "Dating" by raisesomehale

"You and Derek text each other memes?” she sounds both surprised and delighted - but more surprised. “Well,” Stiles says, “I send memes. Derek sent me a picture of a newspaper comic strip, once.” Lydia says, “Oh my god.” - OR the 5 times people point out that Stiles might be dating Derek + the 1 time Derek tells Stiles they're dating himself.

Together, Unfold by vipertooths

"Everyone thinks we’re dating.” Derek blinks at him once, twice, thrice. “What?” “Dating. Going steady. An item. Courting. Seeing each other. Romantically ent—” “I know what dating is." Or: Seven times Stiles and Derek weren't dating & the time they finally started.

Nurses Know Everything by Flicker_Ash

After a lacrosse game, Melissa looks around for Isaac. She's surrounded by family, her son, Noah, Stiles, both of whom are practically part of the family tree by now. Her urge to bring Isaac into this mismatched family is stifled when she sees he might not be as alone as she thought.

[masterlist link]

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feyascorner · 1 year ago

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2 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. While seeing him leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you. You should hate him, truly.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. and he finally makes an appearance;,; ik the first two chapters are a bit slow but i think i can start picking up the pace now woohoo!! Reader/Tav’s feelings are supposed to be confusing on purpose but I may have overdone it a tad,,

He hadn’t had time to gather any of his belongings when he left. And while your other companions graciously rid of everything they could into a single box packed away in the corner of the basement, even they could not bring themselves to throw the handheld mirror away–whether because of the intricate designs framing its reflection that surely held value or because of your apprehension for throwing it out, you’re not sure. You haven’t used it yourself, too afraid of even touching its handle out of fear it may crumble away.

One of the orphan children that Cora’s harboring places a cup in front of you. You raise a brow at her, silently asking how Cora’s doing, and she only shakes her head solemnly before scurrying away.

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“They’ve already said numerous times where they were,” Lae’zel spits in the Flaming Fist’s direction. “Are all Fists this incompetent, or are you just a special case?”

You run a hand down your face while Gale attempts to calm Lae’zel. Shadowheart’s had her eyes trained on the cups perched around the table for quite some time now, occasionally glancing up to listen to the Fist’s interrogation. Unfortunately, the cups lack their usual alcohol, but you don’t complain about the water with how dry your throat is. You pat her shoulder, and she finally meets your eyes, nodding before resuming her focus on whatever the Fist is saying. You’re not sure yourself at this point.

“As Flaming Fists, we must put the guilty in their rightful place, regardless of whether they’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate or not,” he straightens his back, then narrows his brows at you. “And right now, all witnesses point here. You were seen leaving the tavern with a man reported as missing this morning. Care to explain that?”

You can hear Gale’s chair scrape against the floor. “You can’t be serious. They saved the entire city, for Mystra’s sake! If they wanted bloody murder, they would've been positively drenched in blood by now.”

However, all you feel is the searing stares of your other companions, who remain blissfully unaware of the encounters of your previous night. But you can tell they’re not accusing you, unlike the Fist—they never would—but rather demanding an explanation. You sigh deeply. “I didn’t go home with him. We spoke for almost two minutes before I left.”

“And what proof do you have of that?”

“Considering I woke up in the Blushing Mermaid, I’m sure you can do a little questioning there to find some witnesses,” you stand, the chairs of your leg scratching against the tiled floors. “Are we done here? I need to go speak with Cora, because her husband just died."

“Sit,” he hisses, his fingers reaching for his weapon. “I won’t repeat myself.”

The air becomes tense in mere seconds. It'd been uncomfortable moments ago, but not as much as this—not enough to make Lae’zel reach for her sword as she’s doing now. Your eyes narrow warningly into slits at the Fist, but his subordinates only step forward to stand on either side of him as if daring you to take another step. From the corner of your peripheral, you can see Shadowheart’s palm spark with light. The others occupying the Highberry household, even from outside on the patio, are talking in hushed whispers, all gazes trained on your very breath. And after a suffocating silence, you hear a chuckle from the door.

“Now, Yevir, we shouldn’t be treating our city’s most esteemed citizens with such hostility.”

Grand Duke Ravengard–Wyll’s father–steps into the home, shaking his head. The Fists, who were willing to go head to head with you mere seconds ago, are now turned and saluting the Duke, which makes Lae’zel scoff at your side. “You lot are dismissed under my name. Though I do have a word to exchange with the bard.”

Former bard, you want to correct him.

Your companions exchange an apprehensive glance at one another before you step forward. “And what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with the Duke?”

“You jest. We are all allies here,” he smiles. “Come, we must speak privately.”

You grin wickedly at Yevir as Ravengard steps past you toward the office in one of the other rooms. Yevir only shoots knives with his eyes, and you return the sentiments by sticking out your tongue mockingly, which earns a snort from Shadowheart. Then you quickly follow after Ravengard, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you had any news from my son?” he asks, facing the window with two arms locked behind him.

“Karlach’s been sending a few letters. They’re limited, as you might expect, but they do come,” you say. “She says Wyll is doing alright. They both are.”

He lets out a breath that can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: relief. “Good. Now, as for what went down between you and Yevir in the other room, I apologize on his behalf. He’s always been too passionate for his own good. Righteousness is admirable, but not when it blinds your judgment.”

“A lot of things can blind judgment. I don’t blame him.”

He turns to you, and despite the questioning gaze in his eyes, he ignores it. “I’m sure you’re well aware of what’s been occurring in the city—you recently received a first-hand experience.”

“So has half the people on the block, apparently.”

“I’m not talking about Cora’s husband.”

He reaches behind his back, pulling out a slim file and holding it to you. “The number of victims is increasing every day now.”

Flipping through the pages in the file, each one is etched with the murder scene of each victim. There’s one with a man haphazardly buried half in the ground, another with a woman collapsed next to the alleyway in Wyrm’s crossing, another of a man bleeding out in the fields of Rivington. You flip the pages again and again until you arrive at one you would’ve preferred to forget.

“Colin Hedgins,” Ravengard says. “Though most of the Fist, including Yuvir, is unaware, his body was found this morning.”

His silvery hair is stained with what you can only assume is blood. His face, which is stretched in horror, makes you wonder if maybe slitting his throat yourself would have given him a more peaceful leave to the afterlife. Not that he really deserved it. You swallow hard, shutting the file away. “So you think I killed him too?”

“No. In fact, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Then why show me this? This is classified information, no?”

“Each one of these victims has one similarity aside from their brutal deaths,” he frowns. “The puncture wounds on their neck, and the fact that their bodies seem to be drained of blood.”

Your breath hitches. While you’d had your suspicions, surely not all of them could have been of vampires? With Orin and the Bhaal worshippers now defeated or retreated into the shadows, the city had gotten eons safer—this just felt like a slap to your face. One group of murderers after another, it seemed. Instead of replying, you stare at Ravengard with pursed lips, urging him to get to his point.

“Wyll has told me of your relations with the vampires,” he says, and it makes your teeth clench. “He was gone by the time I’d joined your camp, but Wyll tells me you had a vampire for a companion for most of your journey. Could he be involved in-”

“No.” The answer is fast. Almost instant. And while a part of you feels disgusted for defending him, even now, another part refuses to let you live while the city thinks of him as nothing but a bloodsucking monster. Even if everyone thought of him as one now. “He wouldn’t have.”

The worst part is that he fully could have, even if you don't want to believe it. Your mind flashes back to the way his hands had felt around your throat, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Ravengard’s expression softens, and you see it again. Pity. Gods, you’d do anything to never see that kind of face again. “I’m also aware that you two had an—-arrangement. One that involved more than just mere friendship. But you must know if we cannot catch the vampire spawns that are running rampant in our city, dozens if not hundreds of more people will die.”

You want to tell him that he should not search for sympathy in you. Because you were once a person willing to get rid of 7000 spawns for the sake of one lover, who only ended up trying to kill you. “He won’t talk to me anyway. I’m sure you also know he didn’t leave on good terms, seeing as you seem to know everything about my love life. I can’t help you.”

The words come out snappier than expected, but Ravengard doesn’t react like he expected this.

“I see,” he says. “Then perhaps you’ll at least be able to keep an eye out. And please, report to me.”

You don’t budge.

He takes it as a sign to leave and moves toward the door. “If you do change your mind, let me know.”

You want to tell him your future is not a matter of what you want. It’s what he wants, and he’s already chosen your fate.

“And is anyone else aware that an entire horde of vampire spawn is living under the city?” Shadowheart says in exasperation. “No wonder they think Astarion’s the one who did it. They think there aren’t any more vampires here anyway! With that many vampires, imagine what destruction they could bring if they miss a few meals!”

“Surely we can convince our sharp-toothed friends to lay low in the Underdark with the others for a while? We convinced half of them. I don’t see why we can’t convince the other,” Gale suggests.

“A warrior who seeks blood shall have blood,” Lae’zel hisses. “I see no reason for them to leave. If I’d been a spawn, I would stay behind a city full of cattle than return to a place of eternal darkness.”

Your head hurts. From continuously sleeping anywhere but the comforts of your bed or from what’s going on, you don’t know, and you don’t care. You just want a nice long bath to wash the dirt on your face and a hot meal to go along with it. Your companions continue arguing, and it’s times like these when you wish Wyll and Karlach were still traveling beside you—they were usually the diffusers of the group.

To an extent, you had been too. Not anymore, though. That was the least of your worries.

“Why must we fix Astarion’s mess in the first place?” Lae’zel adjusts the sword she’d been cleaning on her lap. “We are not dogs to do his bidding. And from what I recall, we have no longer relations with him.”

This finally urges you to speak, almost instinctively. “We have to help. That’s final.”

It's not often that you reinforce your power as the appointed "leader" of the group, preferring to incorporate their opinions rather than choosing all on your own. They all turn to you with a mixture of suspicion and mostly cringe from Lae’zel. Your face flares in response. “I’m just saying we can’t just let a bunch of innocent people die!”

“Of course,” Gale coughs.

You can feel yourself losing your composure, your palms feeling clammy. Still, you straighten your back. “Astarion has nothing to do with me either. I’m doing this for the city.”

“Right.”

You opt to just clear your throat. “I’ll talk to Petras. We’ll figure out a way for all of us to be happy.”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes, but Shadowheart only raises a brow. “And how exactly are you going to find Petras? It’s not like he has a mailbox or an address.”

“I’ll figure it out. Always do,” you smile, and her face softens. “In the meanwhile, I’ll have to rely on you guys to pick up my work for rebuilding the city so I can focus on tracking him down. I don’t think it’ll take too long—maybe a week or so.”

Gale’s face knits together in concern. “And you’re quite sure you won’t need any of us to accompany you?”

“They’re fully capable of taking care of themselves, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “Very well, then. We’ll await good news.”

Looking back on it, perhaps you did need the help.

Days upon days of searching, yet nothing. You’re sure you covered almost half the sewers at this point, and you’re not sure if you’re just insanely unlucky or the vampires just left while you’d been searching elsewhere.

But the number of deaths says otherwise.

So you’d turned to a new approach. If you couldn’t find them, you’d let them find you.

The days stretch longer, with the city being in its summer season. And while you’re grateful, since it means vampires will have less time to hunt, you always despise the way this cloak is sticking to your skin and the hairs that seem glued to your cheeks with the hood stifling any hope of breathing freely. Still determined, you force your legs forward into the darkest alleyways you can find.

Though you’ve had a few fruitless days, pacing aimlessly throughout the city during the dead of night into early morning, a part of yourself keens at the moonlight draping over you tonight.

It had been on a night like this, one where the clouds make way for the moonglow to illuminate what lurks in the city during the night. Though at the time, instead of the comfortable bed in the house you and your companions managed to buy after scraping enough gold together, you were sleeping on a bedroll that did little to shield you from the rocks, doing nothing to even the ground below.

Back then, your companions were nothing but that—companions on a journey you hoped to end as quickly as possible to return to the taverns and bars of Baldur’s gate, where you would spend your nights singing the familiar tunes that your patrons enjoyed most. So after the camp celebration with the Tieflings, when Astarion led you to the forest clearing where you first felt skin other than your own, you realized this adventure of yours was more than just that. It was a new stepping stone in your life.

He’d held you close to him, offering you whispers of affection while his hands ran through your hair. He’d kissed you, his hands caressing either side of your cheek. He’d let you marvel at the scars on his back, his hands resting on your waist.

The same hands that wrapped around your throat months later. You can still feel them sometimes.

Despite your speech to Gale before Cora’s husband showed up dead, you weren’t sure how you would react if you ever saw your former lover again. On nights that weren’t plagued with nightmares, you stayed up, wondering if you’d cry. If you’d reach out for him, embracing him in a hug you never wanted to let go from. If you’d let him brush his knuckles on your cheeks, if you’d let him press a kiss to your forehead, if you’d let him love you again.

You weren’t sure. And a part of you—the part shoved deep inside the corners of your heart—wonders if never seeing him again was a blessing. That regardless of the ache in your heart now, never seeing him would save you from something worse.

So deeply lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the murky figure swinging a pipe at your head.

Nearly scathing the surface of a concussion, you dodge, but he’s too fast. Before you’ve even begun reaching for your knife, the figure swings you toward the wall, and you swear you can hear it crack as your back collides with it. Your vision only manages to straighten itself once the figure has you shoved onto the ground, either of their knees on the sides of your hip.

Instinctively, your hand flies up to stab at their arm, but you’re no match. They twist your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade, and pins either of your arms to the ground. You can’t see anything but the glint of their fangs against the light.

You’d fought vampires before, and you had never seen one so fast. So aggressive. So primal. Astarion had entertained you with friendly spars, but you’d also fought Cazador to the death. Even he hadn’t been this fast.

“I just want to talk to Petras! I’m not going to hurt you, I–” Your pleas go deaf on their ears.

When you squint, you can finally see the blood staining their fangs, and you realize that they’ve already fed.

They’re fed, and they’re still hungry.

A fed vampire, is a strong one, you remember. And if you add their hunger on top of that...

Even as you try to yank yourself away, they only squeeze their grip harder, enough to cut off blood circulation. The color drains from your face, your expression almost fearful. No, it does scare you. It scares you that this is only a spawn, but they can still attack someone so ferociously. It scares you that Astarion could have done the exact same thing to you.

The spawn yanks your head to the side with a claw on your hair, allowing them access to your throat. You thrash and kick, but to no avail, forced to watch as they’re about to sink their teeth into you. You hate your mind because even at death’s door, all you can think about is him.

Is this what he would’ve done to you had your companions not been there to save you?

Is this what he wanted to do the day he first approached you, asking for your blood?

Anger burns in your chest, and with the last bit of your strength, you lift your head and bite them first. Your teeth sink into their throat, feeling the break of skin just before they rip you away, wailing in pain as you’re carelessly tossed to the ground. As they grasp at the wound on their neck, you take the opportunity to lunge for your knife.

You feel genuine rage for the first time in what feels like forever. No self-pity, no dejection, no sorrow for losing the man you’d given everything to, but rage for the state you were reduced to just because of him. And that while his leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you.

You thrust the blade into their chest, and they stop. It’s no stake, but it’ll do for now. And as their throat gurgles with blood, all you can hear is the desperate panting of your own breath when their body falls to the ground, face first.

You pray they’re dead.

Then, your vision in one eye blurs with red. When you lift your hand to your forehead, you feel the warm blood trailing down, probably from when you collided with the wall. The little strength left in your legs vanishes as you reel forward, your knees crashing onto the mud beside the spawn.

Though you thankfully manage to collapse on your back rather than your poor counterpart who’s probably choking on the dirt and grim of the city grounds even in death, you can feel your head going light, even as your hands tighten around the knife laying on your chest. You greet the moon again, this time with a breathy laugh.

Seluné must be smiling back at you, surely.

You’re not sure who’s standing above you when you open your eyes again, being only seconds away from entirely blacking out. But you think it must be an angel, with his snow-white curls and how he revels under the veil of the moon. You want to reach out to him, but your shaky arm says otherwise.

He’s beautiful, you think, even if you can’t make out his face.

You hope the angel doesn’t pity you.

Apparently, heaven is at Elfsong Tavern. You’d imagined being greeted with the smell of roses and a fresh stream rather than the overwhelming stench of booze, but you suppose it’s fitting considering how you’d died in a puddle of what you assume to be a concoction of cat piss and your own blood.

No, that can’t be right.

Looking around frantically, you lurch forward, the sweat and mud sticking your hair to your skin. Multiple pairs of eyes bore into you. You’re slumped in the tavern's kitchen, several Fist soldiers peering at you curiously. And finally, you manage to make out Shadowheart, whose hands are hovering over you with a gentle glow.

“Lay back down, I’m almost done,” she frowns.

You ignore her request. “The spawn! I’m not sure if they’re dead–”

“Never mind that,” she snaps. “They found you blacked out on the ground next to a dead body and a broken wall. What in bloody hell happened last night? Do you know how much it scared us when the damn Fists were banging at our door at 4:30 in the morning?”

Your head spins, and you clutch at your head. “Got ambushed. I tried to talk to them, but apparently, they just wanted a midnight snack.”

“Heavens above,” she breathes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“No, I was so close, Shadowheart,” you shake your head frantically, smearing at the mud still plastered on your face. “I’ll be more prepared next time. If I manage to just capture one of the spawn alive, I could ask them where Petras is-”

There’s a loud yell from the hatch leading to the basement. Your head whips in its direction, then to Shadowheart, staring at her inquisitively.

She sighs, finally lowering her hands to her side. “Look, I need you to listen to me very closely. As your friend, I can’t have you losing your composure in front of the Duke downstairs. They’re in the hideout, but they’re also with–”

You hear Gale’s voice holler. “You’re the only one who knows them well enough, Astarion!”

Suddenly, your blood runs cold. While Shadowheart tries to keep you still, nothing can stop you as you yank the hatch open, sprinting downstairs. You run through the secret entrance to the hideout, your mind racing rapidly with words you can’t even decipher because they’re going by so fast. You want to hide away and barge into the room simultaneously, and the pounding of your head does nothing to help.

You're different now, you assure yourself. A part of you hates him for what he did, and you're willing to act on this hatred. You won't be passing out on the street, drunk on the pit of isolation he left behind, praying he'd appear from thin air and assure you things are fine. You're better now, and you did it all without his help.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

The room is cold–empty, except for three figures alongside two more guards standing at the door. Ravengard, standing at one end of the circular table, has his arms crossed, brows knitted together comprehensively. Gale, who had been pacing back and forth around the room, freezes instantly when he sees you. So does everyone else.

“Ah, and here comes the star of the show.” You haven’t heard his voice in so long. It almost feels foreign.

Standing between the other men on either side of the table, Astarion’s eyes bore into you, lips curled in a grin barely showing off his fanged teeth. When you lock eyes, yours grows wider as you take him in.

He looks almost the same. The same curly white hair, the same blood-red eyes, and the same smile that once brought you joy yet now only fueled the endless longing of your nightmares. While you expect yourself to feel anger, relief, or shock, all you feel is the rapid beating of your heart, your mind void of everything besides how uncomfortable the dried mud feels on your face. Your breath hitches as he lifts a finger to the side of his head. Only then do you also feel the warm liquid sliding down your cheek.

“You’re bleeding, darling.”

With the inevitable urge to barf up nothing from your empty stomach, you're back to being the same person as you were four months ago.

Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fluff

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physics-of-one-piece · 9 months ago

Text

Since I did what Doflamingo does/says in I'll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother) (Rosinante x Reader x Doflamingo WIP) I bring the aforementioned brother from the title and a snippet (which is before he dies but I wrote it and nearly cried, so I thought it was worth a share) with him:

Some NSFW mentions in the bulletpoints but nothing descriptive:

Gets into a first bath in a month with Law and bathes him, trips on the floor getting out the bath

trips and falls in his own house in a hurry to get the medicine for Law's fever

most softest 10 foot lover in the One Piece World but he absolutely can rock your world

always careful with his big hands

never holds himself to intimidate while home

has fun coloured sweaters and fun shirts

your favourite outfit of his is his blue dress shirt and white pants, he looks so FINE in that 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 also his marine uniform without the coat 🫠

watches you fuss over Law and cries

he kneels down to hug you, and always loves getting his hair ruffled by you

peppers you with kisses when he comes home

removes make-up and makes Law scream thinking he's Doflamingo

"Did you think my actual name was Donquixote Corazon? Cutee~"

when asked by Law who you are, Rosinante blushes, smiles goofily and chuckles, saying "She's... my wife."

insulted by Law saying to you, "You deserve better."

dances with you in the kitchen

finishes his jobs for Doflamingo early so he can spend the rest of the days he is supposed to be away with you, which means this man sails to you as much as he can

spent two weeks with you and got you pregnant in that timeframe

always bring a bouquet and chocolates and souvenirs from islands he visited when he comes home to you

puts you in a Silent bubble so you can scream your anger/frustration away

his Silent is literally your therapy and when you tell him his Devil Fruit is your favourite Devil Fruit, he grins so bright, the sun wishes it could shine like that

you meet him when he crashes into you

How many guys can say their clumsiness got them a wife? Not many. Exactly, Rosinante is built different.

cries every time you make him pancakes for breakfast

actually a solid cook, but he needs to be watched, always have water nearby

You call him Rosi or Rosinante

He blushes when you call him Corazón or Cora-san. Once roleplayed as his "pirate" persona, and he managed for five minutes before breaking character and you laughed for a good ten minutes

you can get as loud as you want in the bedroom within his Silent bubble 😉

you love his red hat

he can bake cookies and they're sent from heaven

has his own marine squad since he's a Commander and his crew is awesome (original characters but I like them, you'll see)

kills a Celestial Dragon that tries to kidnap you and makes it look like an assassination by pirates - Sengoku is on board with it

humble and sweet wedding day, Rosinante cried the whole time

loves cuddles & loves your cooking

cried of joy when getting a lunch box for his journey with Law from you

takes the secret he has a wife to his grave, never mentioned you to Doflamingo, never let Doflamingo find out about you (considering the chapters with Doflamingo that come, very clear why)

died not knowing you were pregnant, as even you didn't know it at the time (I'm so sorry 😭)

And here is the snippet:

Your face flashed in his mind.

Sorry, mi amor. thought Rosinante.

The red lenses that have by now become his brother’s eyes stared down at Rosinante coldly, red stained glass reflecting the falling snowflakes.

Guess I’m not coming back home this time.

Rosinante was going to make sure Law gets away. He could get himself to Eudai by paying a fisherman to get him there. He’d be safe there, and with any luck, he could then decide what he wanted to do with his life. He knew you wouldn’t ask Law to stay with you if Law didn’t want to. You were good at reading the kid like that.

Law was a smart cookie. He’d probably activate his Devil Fruit powers in an hour from now on and heal himself within a minute. Rosinante knew it. He believed in it.

Rosinante isn’t worried about anything, he isn’t afraid. He is grateful. He is so grateful to be here, in this moment, on the side he considers right.

Not on the marines’ side. Not on the pirates’ side.

On Law’s side. He was Law’s Corazón now, not Doflamingo’s.

You said such to him yourself. Law saw Rosinante as his guide, Law trusted him, had faith in him, just like you did. Law had become a part of Rosinante’s family, your small family Rosinante was the patriarch of, the protector of. Rosinante wasn’t fighting for the marines now, or for the pirates. He was fighting for a sick little boy because nobody else would, nobody else wanted to, nobody else thought to, except him and you.

You had guided him and supported him to become the man he is today, catching him by the hand before he could trip and fall the same way his brother did.

He remembered the first time you tried to teach him how to dance with him, and he ended up stepping on both your feet.

“I’m so sorry! Please give me another chance.”

You told him, “Just enjoy the dance.” before pulling him into your first dance together, and he did as you asked, letting his legs follow the beat and the song, and it turned out okay. He never stepped on your feet again.

Six months later, he was dancing with you every day in the living room of the house the two of you called home, pulling you into a dance on the field of blue forget-me-nots, your sweet, soft laughter caressing his ears.

Because of you, Rosinante knew he’d never lose his way. Because if he did, you’d set him straight, grip his hand so he doesn’t fall apart.

You were the flag Rosinante carried in his heart.

He felt so lucky to have you. He was the clumsiest, luckiest man on the planet. He never thought his clumsiness would bring him to you.

Rosinante was happy. Donquixote Rosinante was the happiest man on earth. He didn’t need any treasure, or an army, or a country, or immortality, or the world. None of those things could ever make him happy as living with you and Law did.

And Rosinante realised it then; it was that Doflamingo lacked. He had a family, but he also didn’t. For a moment, Rosinante pitied his brother, even though his brother had done it to himself. To live without experiencing pure happiness, genuine happiness, without hurting anyone to attain it…

It must hurt, Doffy. thought Rosinante sadly. You must be lonely.

Rosinante looks at his older brother, and for the last time, there is a pang of pain in his heart at the sight of what his older brother has become.

Rosinante pulled out the pistol, aiming it at his big brother — at Doffy, at Doffy — pulling back the safety pin, knowing very well he wouldn’t press the trigger, and knowing very well his brother would.

Rosinante really wished he’d gotten to dance with you one more time.

***

Word Count Report:

Currently, Rosinante's part (Part 1) is 8.4k words, Doflamingo's Part 2 is 13k words so that one might get separated into 2 parts to keep it a normal word count. Part 3 (also Doflamingo) is the shortest at 4k words but there is a lot left to write and plan for that part.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

#rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante x reader #rosinante x you #donquixote corazon x reader #corazon x reader #one piece #donquixote rosinante #corazon #donquixote corazon #corazon one piece #wip #one piece x reader

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months ago

Text

Kissin' in the Blue Dark

Pairing: Abraham (Grantchester) x f!reader Warnings: Choking, smut. Word count: ~2k

Summary: Less than enthusiastic about the game of Cluedo he's been forced to play, Abraham finds his own form of entertainment.

Author's note: Day seven of Smuffmas - board games and breath play. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Look at what I got in town earlier!” Cora said excitedly, holding up the white box and shaking it for emphasis, causing the contents to rattle.

“What is it?” she asked, reading the word ‘Cluedo’ across the front.

“It’s a board game,” she explained excitedly, turning over the box to study the back of it. “A murder mystery. You have to guess who the murderer is, what weapon they used and in what room they murdered the person. I’ve been wanting to play it for ages.”

“Oh, right,” she replied, attempting to feign enthusiasm she didn’t really feel. Truthfully, the concept sounded boring to her, she had never enjoyed forced fun. “I’m sure you and Ronnie will have loads of fun playing that.”

“You need six people to play it,” Cora told her, lifting her gaze back to her, “maybe you and Abraham could come over for a game?”

“Oh yeah…maybe…that’d be nice,” she said, nodding and giving a tight smile. There was absolutely no way Abraham would ever agree to sit around and play a board game, it just wasn’t his idea of fun at all, but she didn’t want to be rude to Cora and tell her that. “Anyway, I’d better get off, got a hot date with a pile of ironing!”

“See ya, love,” Cora called to her, before closing the caravan door as she walked away.

Unfortunately, the game of Cluedo happened a lot sooner than she had anticipated – that same night.

Abraham came back from tending the horses, his clothes thick with the scent of the stables, and wrapped his arms around her waist as she stood ironing one of his shirts. She smiled as his warmth enveloped her, his back pressed tight to her chest, and turned her face to his, her lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

“Good day?” she murmured against his lips as he pulled back slightly to look at her.

“Yeah, was alright,” he replied, giving her a gentle squeeze, then flopping down on the settee. He sat with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her working behind the ironing board. “Pal and Ronnie have a fresh batch of homebrew ready. Ronnie said we should go over tonight for a few drinks.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, placing the iron down and beginning to button the shirt closed. She shot him a playful smile. “You should have a bath first though, you stink of horses.”

“Bloody cheek,” he grinned, standing and giving her a playful swat on the bottom.

Later that evening, they sat in Cora and Ronnie’s caravan, with Pal and Freda. It was a tight squeeze for the six of them, all crowded around the fold out dining room table. She had Abraham’s thigh pressed tightly against her to the left and Freda’s on the right, with barely enough elbow room to lift her glass to her lips. Several brown, glass bottles of strong home brewed beer were scattered across the tabletop, and a half empty bottle of gin was slowly making its way around them too.

The small space was warm, her cheeks felt flushed, and everyone’s voices grew progressively louder the more they drank, all attempting to be heard over each other. A look of realisation passed across Cora’s face, her eyes went wide, and she clapped her hands, causing a hush to settle over the circle they were sitting in.

“I know what we can do, we’ve got enough of us for it,” she exclaimed, before standing and reaching up to grab the Cluedo box from the shelf behind her.

She felt her heart sink knowing what was to come, it would sour the mood around the entire table.

“What you got there then, Cor?” Pal asked, eyeing the box with curiosity as he rolled a cigarette.

“Cluedo!” she replied happily, placing the box heavily in the centre of the table. “It’s a murder mystery board game.”

“How d’you play it?” Freda asked, sliding the gin bottle across the table to Ronnie.

“So, there are cards for the murder suspects, weapons and rooms, and one of each is chosen at random and placed into an envelope – that’s the answer. The rest of the cards are split out between us, and we each get to play a character and move around the board, between the rooms and guess, based on our cards, who we think the murderer is, what weapon they used and which room they did it in. You all get stuff to take notes with so you can keep track of what’s been guessed wrong. If you guess correctly you win, if you guess wrong then you’re not allowed to guess again. If any of the cards guessed are ones you’re holding, you’ve got to show them privately to the guesser so they know what they guessed wrong. They’re also then allowed to look in the envelope to see the correct answer, but can’t tell anyone what it is.”

Pal and Abraham groaned in unison as Cora lifted the lid and spread the board out. “Christ, that sounds so shit,” Abraham complained, “can’t we just play cards or something instead?”

Ronnie elbowed him gently, leaning in conspiratorially to whisper to him, “just humour her this once. The novelty will wear off or she’ll lose one of the pieces eventually. No point in upsetting her.”

Abraham scowled, leaning back against his seat and folding his arms across his chest as he watched Cora set the game up.

It was slow going, given that none of them really knew what they were doing and Abraham was less than impressed with being given the character of Professor Plum. “Sounds like a twat,” he grumbled, holding the game piece between his forefingers as he examined it.

She had been given the character of Miss Scarlett, and as she moved her red game piece into the library portion of the board, she decided she’d take her chances and make a guess. “Was it…Colonel Mustard with a revolver in the library?”

Freda shook her head, leaning across to show her that she had the card for the revolver.

“Ah, bugger,” she sighed, placing her own cards face down on the table, “guess that’s me out then. I don’t wanna see the answer, I’d rather it stay a surprise.” She tapped Abraham lightly on his thigh, “shift over, love, I’m off to spend a penny.”

She squeezed out of the tight space with difficulty, as Abraham maneuvered his long legs to allow her to pass. The crisp coolness of the night air was a welcome sensation against her skin, as she pushed open the door, allowing it to swing closed behind her as she descended the rickety wooden steps. She felt warm from the combination of the wood burning stove in the caravan and how crowded it was in the small space, as well as the effects of the gin and homebrew she’d been swigging all evening. The fresh air made her light headed and unsteady on her feet as she made her way towards the outhouse.

Having done what she needed to do, she was about to head back when she felt large hands grab her waist, making her gasp as she was backed up against the hard, wooden exterior of the barn. She looked up into the smirking face of Abraham, the pale moonlight just barely illuminating his sharp features.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, grasping the front of his plaid shirt to steady herself.

“Told ‘em I was coming out for a piss,” he said, a predatory glint in his eye as he stared down at her, his grip on her waist unrelenting. “We could just go home though, now we’re both out here.”

“We can’t just leave and not say anything, it’s rude,” she chided, giving his chest a light tap.

“Oh, come on, it’s fucking boring and you know it is,” he argued, keeping her pressed against the wall.

“It is,” she agreed, winding her arms around his neck, “but it’s just this once. Cora was really excited when she told me about it earlier.”

Abraham raised an eyebrow. “You knew she was gonna make us play this?”

She bit her lip, a guilty look passing across her face. “Sort of, yeah…but I didn’t think she’d make us play it tonight.”

“Mmm,” he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against hers, “so, this is your fault then.”

She leaned up, pressing her lips to his, smiling into the kiss as she felt how eagerly he responded, his body pressed flush against hers as his hands slid to her lower back.

“We should get back,” she whispered breathlessly, when they finally parted for air, “or they’ll come out looking for us.”

“No rush,” he murmured, eyeing her hungrily, “I already know who the murderer is.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah, me, with my hand up your skirt against the barn,” he uttered, pushing her back against the wall, as the roughness of his calloused fingers slid up the soft flesh of her inner thigh, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.

She whimpered softly, trying to ignore the dull throbbing sensation of her core. “Not here!” she hissed, though she made no attempt to push his hand away.

“I think here will do just fine,” he grinned wolfishly, the pads of his fingers toying with the gusset of her underwear.

“Abe—”

“Shhh,” he soothed. His free hand rose to her throat, wrapping around it and applying just enough pressure to silence her protests, as he slipped two fingers past her knicker elastic and swiped them through her slick folds. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

She had felt light headed when she had stepped outside to pee, but it was nothing compared to this – Abraham’s thumb and forefinger pushed against the sides of her throat, the dizzying lack of oxygen serving to heighten the sensation of his digits working rhythmically against her sensitive flesh.

He squeezed experimentally at her neck, tightening his grip ever so slightly, as his index finger sought out her pearl and began rubbing tight circles upon it. She bucked her hips, her lips parted as her eyes fluttered closed and she lost herself in blissful surrender, completely at his mercy. Abraham was so dominant like this – restricting her airway with one hand, while the other was beneath her skirt – it was all too easy to forget that anyone could catch them, but it felt too good to care.

Little spots swam in her vision, obscuring her view of him as she opened her eyes. He was staring intently at her, loosening and tightening his grip on her delicate neck in tandem with the insistent rubbing at her swollen bundle of nerves. She could feel the coil tightening in her lower belly, as her thighs started to shake. Unable to breathe properly, her pleasured pants were shallow and laboured.

He chuckled darkly, clearly able to sense she was close, and sped up the movement of his fingers as he increased the pressure on her throat. “That’s it, good girl, just let go for me.”

His words were enough to send her tumbling over the edge and she let out a quiet, broken cry of pleasure as her body shuddered against his and white, hot pulsations of ecstasy rippled through her, causing her inner walls to spasm around nothing, as he continued to rub at her, until it became too much and she had to jerk her hips away.

Slowly, he released the hold he had on her throat, moving his arm around her waist to hold her limp form steady. He pulled his hand out from beneath his skirt and wiped it unceremoniously on his trousers, as she clung desperately to his shoulders to keep herself upright.

“You ready to go back in then?” he asked, once she’d had a moment to catch her breath.

“Not after that,” she grinned up at him, “take me home.”

“With pleasure,” he winked, ignoring her squeal as he lifted her effortlessly over his shoulder, and brought his palm heavily down upon her bottom, the sound ringing out loudly in the still night air, as he strode back through the farmyard. They never did find out who the murderer was, and neither one of them cared.

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More Abraham fics

#abraham x reader #abraham x you #abraham x y/n #abraham imagine #abraham smut #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfiction #abraham fanfic #abraham fan fic #ewan mitchell #grantchester #abraham grantchester

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luveline · 2 years ago

Note

maybe a reader and roan centered ficlet where roan gets to go to readers work for the day, be like her mini assistant because eddie couldn’t find anyone else to watch her while he had to do something?

ty for requesting ♡ fem reader

The phone rings at exactly 2PM as previously discussed.

"Ro! Quick, come answer the phone for me, baby."

Roan climbs out from under your desk where she's sorting paperclips into cuteness piles, the skirt of her best blue dress brushing your calves, her hair in a slicked back bun but coming undone as the day goes on. "What do I say?" she asks.

You pull her onto your lap. "You say, Hi, I'm Roan Munson with Cora Enterprise Limited, how may I help you?"

She squares her features into a fierce, determined glare. Picking up your heavy grey phone, she presses her lips to the receiver and says, "Hi, I'm Roan! How can I help you, Cora?"

Her eyebrows pinch together before smoothing, elation quick to take. "Daddy!"

You can't hear what Eddie's saying, but you imagine it to be like, Hey, pumpkin, you sound so grown up! How's working for a mindless conglomerate as another cog in the machine working out for you?

"It's fun." Roan tips her head back to look at you. When your gazes connect, she wiggles her thin brows. "She's fine, dad. We're having fun without you."

Passionate garbled talk from the other side. Roan giggles and leans further into your chest, seemingly pleased when you wrap your arms around her stomach.

"I learned how to do the printer, and the managing, but they wouldn't let me in the lab 'cos you picked shoes with cut outs. Yes, I know I asked for them, dad." Roan hands you the phone with an expression beyond her years. "He wants to talk to you."

"Thanks, babe." You bring the phone to your ear. "Hello, Y/N speaking."

"Hello," Eddie says, his voice warm as usual, the sound like laying under the sun on a cloudless day. "Is she behaving?"

"She's being awesome. I told you, you don't have to worry about it. I'm practically alone in my office with Mel on maternity leave and Jessica trying to impress the Swedes." You stop Roan's little hand where it tries to open your top drawer, worried about the box cutter you use to unseal samples. "She's literally no fuss. I'd have her here every day if they let me."

Roan gasps like this is the very best idea in the world and nods at you until her head looks like it's going to fall off.

"They might have to. I can't believe it's day four of no water at the elementary. We're lucky you could take her, what are the parents who work jobs like me supposed to do?" he asks.

"Maybe I can have them all here. Roan's a good assistant for a six year old. In fact, she's doing a better job than I was on my first day. Right, bubby?" you ask the head of curls in your lap.

"Right!" Roan lifts her head to the receiver, her full row of top baby teeth white and shiny in the office lights. "I'm going to do the flying cabinet next!"

"Filing," you correct.

"Oh. That doesn't sound as fun." She wrinkles her nose.

"Lunch first," you say. It's a good pacifier. Boring office tasks are usually easier after one of Eddie's sandwiches.

"I'll leave you guys to it, then," Eddie says, muffled slightly by the roaring of an electric saw. "I'll try not to feel too left out over here."

"If I were you I'd feel very left out," you say.

"Nice. Love you, miss you, see you at five."

You put the phone against Roan's pale ear. "Tell dad bye," you say.

"Bye, daddy. I hope you have a nice lunch."

Loving babble. Roan's smile gets bigger and bigger the longer Eddie talks. She stretches tall in your chair to put the phone down before twisting to wrap her arms around your shoulders, her nose cold where it presses into your throat. You bring a hand to the back of her head.

"What's this for?" you ask, hugging her.

"Dad said to give you one. And to say you didn't say I love you back, so, um, you're in the bad books."

"Not the bad books," you murmur.

"Don't worry. I get out of them all the time."

—

more eddie, roan and reader

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zombiedumbie · 1 year ago

Text

heart-shaped box

hi everybody! i'm back with posting stuff. i finished my final paper (i still need to make a presentation, but that's the easy part), this paper made me tired of writing, so I didn't post this before, sorry! and i'm having quite a week lol (just for example, one of the things that happened to me was that i had my scalp sutured!)

~1.2k words

from this post. a lots of fluff, A LOT, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF. no use of pronouns. organs (heart). mentions of Law's backstory and light novel.

Hey, Cora…

Law's slender fingers hovered over your chest with the same delicacy he would use to sheath the blade of his own sword with the thin blue layer of his ability. He kept it at a reasonable distance, as if trying to sense the vibration of your pulsating heart in the air. The only thing breaking the silence in the room was his breath, but your heartbeats raced into your eardrums, making the place sound louder than it should.

Both of you sat cross-legged, facing each other in a room separate from the rest of the… guests.

Law wanted it to be just you and him, no one else. You were outlaws, without the right to a traditional marriage, whatever was traditional for both of you; that's why he wanted to do it still in Wano, away from the eyes of the world.

The marriage that usually involved you, your partner, the Government, and God would this time be confined between the two of you. But you insisted; after all, you wanted to share this joy with your friends, and with Wano closed, there weren't many risks of this information leaking.

"Don't you think this happiness should be just between you and me?" Law lifted his hat and scratched his head, looking seriously at you.

"Don't you think we'll have other kinds of happiness that will be just between us?" With your response, he only hid his eyes behind the brim of his hat.

Law must have been worried about the possibility of the Straw Hat crew showing up and ruining everything. In the end, he agreed, but on the condition that the two of you had this moment alone.

You took his wrist with both hands and pulled his hand towards you, your fingers touching the kimono while his palm rested on your chest with hesitation.

"Law…"

"Are you sure?" He murmured and lifted his eyes from your chest to your face; that golden gaze was unwavering, covered with a layer of uncertainty, though. His fingers trembled, perhaps out of insecurity or the weakness of removing his own heart.

You didn't say anything, just pulled him into a kiss; your thumb stroked just below his eyes, the skin warming under your digits with each second you kept your lips pressed together. That was a perfect confirmation for him. When you separated, you smiled at him and turned your back to Law.

"You already took yours", he laughed lightly.

"Not as if it's difficult to put it back", he replied, and you looked at him over your shoulder. "Room."

Law tilted you slightly down; his arm was around your torso, and his open hand was on the upper part of your chest to hold you. You embraced his arm and took a deep breath, letting your body relax. "Are you ready?" He asked, the phalanges of his fingers stroking your back calmly; you nodded and closed your eyes.

"Mes", he whispered and tapped the bottom of his hand on your back, on the left side. You felt your body weaken before the light blue box fell from your chest; he was skillful in catching your heart with the hand that was on your back.

You gasped for air; Law sat you upright as your body adjusted. That, in the hands of your fiancé, beating faintly, was your heart, out of your chest, right in front of you. The idea was so absurd that you would refuse to believe it if you didn't know about Law's powers and hadn't seen them before.

You lowered your kimono and felt your chest; there was now an empty, square space, open; you felt like you could pass your hand through it, but you didn't want to test it due to the nauseating sensation of just feeling the hole.

"Are you okay?" He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyes once again staring at you with the same rigidity; your gaze fell to your heart in his hand. You just nodded.

Law nodded too and placed your heart on the small table next to you, right next to his, on top of a cloth. You sighed, watching the two hearts beating at different rhythms, slightly different in size, but still, two hearts.

They were fragile but valuable, pumping the blood that magically flowed through your veins, even outside your bodies; it was even a bit mesmerizing to watch them, but Law didn't seem very surprised, after all, he had seen at least a hundred of them.

Law gently picked up his own heart, placing it in the palm of his hand. He turned it as if he found the best position, something you didn't think would matter, but he was a perfectionist, so you didn't bother saying anything. Your mouth went dry when you swallowed, and he approached, his eyes on yours again, looking for any sign of hesitation to stop immediately.

"Ready?" He asked in a whisper, and you were so excited that you just nodded.

The man took a breath and exhaled with deliberate slowness, his hands approaching your chest carefully. The small light blue box holding the heart fit so perfectly into the hole in your chest that you wondered if that wasn't yours; he stopped halfway, looking at you.

You responded with a smile, enough to remind him that this was as symbolic as exchanging rings and could be undone as easily; but you still accepted his idea without even asking questions, without asking for a ring or laughing at his idea—a smile enough to remind him that you understood all the symbolism and importance of this and that you accepted who he was, no matter what. With that, he finished pushing the box into your chest, closing the hole and restoring the skin as magically as it was removed.

The sensation was strange; it was like having two hearts in the same place. You could still feel your own heart pounding frantically, while you also felt Law's heart inside the chest, beating against your ribs, settling against your lung, beating as rapidly as yours, not in the same rhythm, but in the same frequency.

"T-This is… funny", you said with a smile, your hand on the place where Law's heart now resided.

With trembling hands, you held the organ ripped from you, beating rapidly against its confinement; the small light blue capsule was somewhat gelatinous and a bit smooth, seemed very malleable, but at the same time resistant.

"Relax", Law whispered to you, the corners of his lips curving upwards gently. "Let me help you", he asked, adjusting the small box in your hands, turning it, pointing to the left side. "These are your right atrium and pulmonary artery, they should be turned to your left, so they will fit correctly", he pointed as he spoke, and you just nodded.

With the tips of his fingers under your hand, he guided you to the hole in his chest, where the box fit perfectly. When you looked at him, he was smiling, not the same smile he gave when he was boasting or teasing someone, it was a genuine smile of happiness, one that you saw a few times but loved every time.

You felt like crying when you fitted the box containing your heart in the place that would reside for the rest of your life, where you lived for so long, in the core of the person you loved the most. When the skin covered the hole in, now, your husband's chest, you felt as if you were receiving the most intimate hug you had ever received—and could never receive again.

You hugged him, feeling the warmth of your tears warming your face; Law also cried silently, but unlike the tears of cold nights, there was a warm feeling in his chest, maybe from the new location of his heart, but the joy you felt was genuine.

His head rested on your shoulder, you felt his heart gradually calming down in your chest as he enveloped you in a warm hug, pulling you into his lap.

Law could still feel the cold of that night, how the snowstorm blurred his vision, the sound of the lines cutting the ground, how humid that chest was. He felt like he had spent all the years that followed trapped in that memory, walking through the forest, crying desperately while looking for the nearest town. However, in recent times, the snowstorm seemed weaker.

Until he reached the nearest town, right when Doflamingo finally hit the ground. When he found himself comfortable in the bed of a kind stranger, he finally understood the reasons for his savior. And when he drank that warm soup after years of hunger, his heart was finally at home, protected by your ribs.

"Law…" you whispered. "I love you."

Your now husband (husband!) put his hands on your shoulders and pulled away from you a little, so you could see his face; there was a smile so wide that his eyes closed, and you could only smile back at the sight. "I love you."

… I'm home.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #one piece fanfic #law fanfic #law x reader #zombiedumbie writing

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thecoramaria · 10 months ago

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Hi! I stumbled upon your YouTube channel and it's SO underrated! :D I don't know if anyone asked you this already, if so I apologize, but I've been having trouble with starting my chapter. I mean, I already know what the chapter will be about, and I have all the lines and actions already planned out, but the problem is actually starting it. I can't come up with the first few opening lines. My biggest problem is starting my chapters, because I just don't know how to make it sound interesting and not out of place. I hope my question is clear enough, and I was wondering if you could offer some advice or tips for this problem. Thanks

I mean, I often have false starts to my chapters while drafting that I later polish and make more exciting. As long as you write down something, even if you decide to delete it later, you're still making progress. As for how I generally like to start chapters, I almost always try to have it start in the middle of something. Not necessarily in the middle of a big action scene, but in the middle of a scenario.

If a chapter opens with a strategy meeting, I'll open in the middle of the meeting rather than at its beginning. That way, I can skip over all the formalities or the boring stuff and go straight to the meat of the scene. Often my false starts are the result of beginning the chapter at the start of a scenario and then I rework that beginning in the editing stage. Here are some examples of turning chapters that start at the beginning of a scenario into ones that start in the middle:

False start: Chapter begins with a character waking up, reaching for their sketchbook, and doodling until they get stuck and their thoughts wander to a difficult conversation they need to have with a friend.

True start: chapter begins with the character staring at their half-finished drawing and tapping their charcoal against their knee, thinking about a difficult conversation they need to have with a friend.

False start: If the previous chapter ended with the characters entering some hot volcanic mines, the next chapter opens with a handful of paragraphs summarising the first few hours of exploring said mines before they have to hide from the monster stalking them.

True start: Chapter starts with the characters already hiding from the monster, with setting description naturally incorporated into the tense scenario. Once the monster moves on, the characters run through the mines to a safe zone, and then the narration can provide a little context to catch up the reader.

I hope these examples clear some things up! The opening lines of your chapters can just be some vomit in your drafts and then polished and cleaned up later. Sometimes it takes writing a not-so-great beginning to find an amazing one that's meant to be.

#cora's original posts #cora's ask box #how to write fanfiction #how to write fanfic #creative writing tips

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saetiate · 3 months ago

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kitty!reader who bites character's hand and all they say is a deadpan "ow"

#cora talking #sae. nagi. to me . also blade #ariiiiiiii i am gonna go sit in ur ask box about this in a sec ahaha #fragments of memories

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countrymusiclover · 3 months ago

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40 - The Fate of Rumplestilskin

Part 41

The Siphoning Princess

Send me any thoughts or ideas you have in the comments below ❤️

Tag list [ @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @onentaien-kwara @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Emma and Baelfire had managed to get my father onto Hook's pirate ship that we had stolen since he needed magic to save his life before the poison killed him. Walking up the stairs of the pirate ship I brushed hair out of my face seeing my brown standing behind the wheel of the massive ship and he saw me coming over to him. "So are you still angry with me for sleeping with my niece even though I didn't know you had kids."

"I'm trying to not punch you right now, so yes I'm still angry with you." Standing off to the side of the wheel I eyed it seeing that he was doing a much better job than I would have. "I'm curious though. How did you learn how to sail a pirate ship?"

"A pirate named Killian Jones. Most people know him as Captain Hook. But funny enough New York wasn't the first realm I traveled to. I - I met someone before Emma actually."

"How many women have you charmed to fall in love with you exactly?" Putting a hand over my eyes I growled under my breath.

He raised his hands briefly up in surrender before putting them back on the ship's wheel. "I was a teenager when I met Ariel. Okay give me a break would you, sister."

"Hold up. You said Ariel, Ariel as in the little mermaid that wants to be human and falls in love with a prince named Eric." My brother shifted his gaze to me with a shocked look on his face. Shrugging my shoulders I didn't understand why he was giving me a look. "Don't look at me like that. Under the dark curse my youngest daughter made me read every fairytale love story there was."

"Well there's a small lie that those books wouldn't tell you about the true identity of her Prince Eric." Baelfire nervously chuckled, avoiding my gaze.

Clicking my tongue I parted my lips realizing what he meant by that sentence. "You used a different name on her like you did Emma. You are unbelievable. I mean, is there one romantic relationship where you didn't lie to someone."

"Jaide, I never said I was perfect. And can you blame me given all what we've- I've been through with our father."

Covering my face with my hand I growled underneath my breath. "I can't believe you made a poor mermaid think that you are her Prince Eric."

Footsteps came over to us where it was my daughter pointing towards a piece of land getting closer to us. "Guys, we're here. That's Storybrooke."

The five of us got off the ship and helped sit my father on the tailgate of my husband's truck. Turning around on my feet I flung my arms around my husband's neck and he embraced me with the same relief. "I hate leaving you even if it's to go find my missing brother. Oh, where's Cecile?"

"She's at Gold's shop with Granny. I figured it'll be safer for her if she's with her while we deal with Cora." He explained breaking the hug to answer my question I had asked him.

Pressing my hands against the fabric of his black jacket I thought about it. "Actually we might have to change that. If Cora is coming to kill my father I want her with us. I don't want the possibility of her kidnapping our little girl to be used as leverage to even be an option."

"Okay, let's get him to his shop where it's safe." Charming nodded, taking my hand in his climbing into the truck with the others pulling in the back while we made our way to the pawnshop. My father was sitting on the cot in the back room and the others were grabbing weapons to prepare for battle.

"Mama, is someone coming to hurt grandpa Rumple?" Cecile's sweet voice met my ears, making me slide my sword back into the holder on my hip. She stood off to the side wearing a light blue shirt and some leggings with some light gray boots.

Lowering myself down onto my knees I held her shoulders, reading the worried expression on her face. "Yes, honey it's true. But don't you worry we won't let anything bad happen to him." She nodded, flinging herself against my body for a hug and I held onto her for a minute till I heard someone walking over to us.

"Jaide, Emna drew the invisible line and papa wants to talk to you about something privately - oh hi. Is this my other niece?"

Glancing behind me I noticed my brother as my daughter gently gripped my shirt nit knowing who the man was. "Mama, who is he?"

"Uh one second." Raising myself to my feet I led her by the hand whispering in my brother's ear. "Don't sleep with this one - Cecile, this is my older brother. His name is Neal."

"Hi Cecile, it's nice to meet you." He bent himself down onto a knee to be eye level with her. He holds out his hand but she ran forward catching him off guard with a hug. Baelfire glanced up at me with a smile on his face as I turn on my heels going to check on our father.

"Bae said you wanted to talk with me alone. What's going on, papa?" Entering the back room he pointed towards a cadet near me.

"I need something from the cabinet.."

Opening the cadet my eyes landed on a candle laying before me that had two different colored ends. One was black and the other was white. "Papa, what exactly is a candle supposed to do?"

"It's what will save my life." He explained to me gripping onto his cane for support even though he was sitting down on the cot. "There's no coming back from death, daughter. And that's what will happen to your loved ones if you don't kill her. The candle usually only works if you whisper the victim's name over them. But the heart will do."

Shaking my head I didn't understand why he was asking this of me. "Papa, surely don't you think that they will suspect it's me. I have attempted to kill Regina on one occasion since we've woken up."

"You're a clever girl. I know you'll think of a loophole." He spoke, giving me a moment to think.

"Cecile. Regina would never think of her trying to come after her. If I can get a lock of her hair then I can do a transformation spell and look like her."

"Smart girl, very smart Jaide-Renae. Use the candle, curse the heart. And then... Here comes the tricky part." He placed a hand over his heart, locking his eyes with mine. "You have to put the heart back inside Cora's body. She will die, and I will live."

"What now? You cast a protection spell?" Emma came into the back room with her sister giving me the chance to quickly yank a hair from Cecile's head.

Their grandfather eyed the two girls. "No, no. You're going to do that for me. You and Cecile."

"I will save you papa." Waving my hand I disappear in a cloud of smoke reaching the outside of the evil queen's Vault.

I open one of the cabinets and find the inside filled with small boxes containing hearts. Opening the first box I picked up I knew it had to be Cora's. Reaching inside my jacket pocket I held up my daughter's lock of golden hair. Holding it in my fingers I shut my eyes and whispered the spell under my breath. Appearatas Veridical" ." Opening my eyes I grabbed the box running up the stairs and finding a mirror so I could see myself. My whole appearance had mirrored my nine year old daughter. Every detail is correct even down to how she had her hair pinned back with a flower clip.

"What are you doing down here, mini Charming?" Regina's voice came into the room causing me to spin on my feet and see her standing in the doorway.

Hugging the box to my chest I attempted my best daughter impression I could. "Mama said your mom doesn't have her heart. So I - I came to get it for you."

"How do you know that's my mothers heart in that box?" The evil queen asked me with a scowl on her face.

Shrugging my shoulders I replied. "Lucky guess. I just _ just want to help you."

"Help me how?" The queen raised a brow.

"She can't love you. She doesn't have her heart." Holding out the box to her I gave her a sweet smile, needing her to believe that I really was my innocent nine year old daughter. "Family should be together."

Regina took the box from my hands and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. "Thank you, Little Charming."

Once she was gone I dropped down onto my knees releasing a deep breath I was holding. Getting up from the ground I made my way outside seeing my husband's truck parked nearby as he jumped out of his vehicle seeing me. "Cecile! Where's your mother. What are you doing out here?"

"Honey, I'm not Cecile." I responded seeing a confused look on his face. Snapping my fingers a cloud of smoke appeared and disappeared returning me back to my normal self. "Cecile is hiding back in Gold's shop. I just needed to look like her to trick Regina."

"Trick her into doing what exactly." My husband asked me

Dropping my hands to my side I gave him a stone cold look answering his question. "Killing Cora in order to save my father's life."

"Jaide - how - why would you do that?" David asked me, grabbing me by my shoulders, trying to understand why I would do something so dark.

Gripping his forearms in my fingers I raised one hand up to the side of his face gentry and he leaned into my palm. "I never said I was a hero, Charming. You didn't fall in love and marry an innocent princess. You married me." He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to not be turned on by what I had just said. He knew that he found her moments of darkness slightly intriguing when he shouldn't.

"Jaide, I -" He couldn't form a sentence.

Tugging his wrist that I was holding onto I led him back over to his truck and we made our way back to the pawnshop. "Let's go check on my father."

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1000sunnygo · 1 year ago

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One Piece Academy Chapter 45: Brothers part 1 (Quick translation)

source | translation index

Wouldn't you like to enjoy the best school life, invited by a cheerful Spring?

"Corazon"

"Rosinante"

"Corao"

"Cora chan"

"Cora san"

Young Doffy: Rosi..

Cora: *GASPS*

Cora: Huff.. Huff...

....

Luffy: *groowwl~*

Cora: Straw hat ya...!

*sliide*

Sengoku: ROSINANTE...!

Sanji, Zoro, Usopp: Bwaah!!

Cora: Sengoku san?! And you guys...

Law:✌🏻

Cora: Law!

Law: Two days, it's been two days since then.

[And then, The next day...]

[New World Middle School downtown Shopping Mall]

Nami: Seriously...

How could an undercover mission end up like that?

Usopp: Don't say that, let me tell you about the story of me sending back the enemy's main forces...

Zoro: How did your side go, with Oni Middle?

Nami: The meeting from our side was held at a warehouse by the Port.

Vivi: Kaido, and the three "All-Stars..."

Coby: And executives called Tobi Roppo... we confirmed all of their presence.

Franky: Yamato wasn't there, though.

Robin: The zoom-zoom noise from the man named Queen didn't let us hear the conversation, but....

Brook:. It seemed their meeting this time was to boost everyone's morale.

Nami: But there's one thing that we didn't understand.

Usopp: Eh?

Nami: Vergo sensei was present there.

[Introduction Box: New World Middle School, Vergo sensei]

Sanji: He came to teach us one day when Aokiji sensei was having a day off, didn't he...

Nami: And that's where it became strange. Just when we thought he'd take a seat,

he put on student's uniform!

Robin: After exchanging greetings with Oni Middle's executives, he handed over some documents.

And then...

"I get it, Doffy"

We heard him mutter these words.

Sanji: "Doffy"? A connection with Doflamingo?

Robin: That's a possibility. To be precise, he could be one of Doflamingo's executives, living in the guise of a teacher.

Usopp: WHAT??

Zoro: A student? As a teacher??

Coby: Let's ask next time when Corazon san heals up!

Cora: Yo, everyone!

Luffy: CORAO!!

Usopp: Doing good already?

Cora: Yep! Thanks to Law.

What about you guys? No class?

Nami: Aokiji sensei told us to self study. And to take a look outside the school building.

Cora: Sounds like Kuzan san, alright...

Continues in Reblog ⬇️

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phyllocnistis · 2 months ago

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rye 🌾

butch4butch

pastry chef and head chef get into it and head chef reminds her who's in charge.

this one's shorter than my last few but i think im gonna do some longer stuff next !

"table 13 up!"

tatum's voice rang out over the sounds of dishwaters whirring, knives chopping, doors slamming, pans frying, waitresses chattering. no one seemed to pay them mind, other than a server who ran back and forth, asking for the forgotten sauce for table 8. the kitchen was in full motion at this moment, the height of the dinner rush. a few months ago, this would have put them in the so deep in the weeds, they probably wouldn't have gotten out till 2 am. but now, with tatum here? the place ran like a well oiled machine.

of course, there were others to thank. ricky, the dishwasher, toiled over near-boiling water and steamed dishes, churning them out just as fast as they came in. cora, the sous chef, adapted well, taking on whatever tasks where given to her eagerly. sondra, the prep cook, was always watching from behind her steel table, chopping or mixing away at whatever was on her list. and then, there was lua, the pastry chef. not always here at night, typically coming in earlier and leaving before dinner, she'd been spending a considerable amount of shifts staying late, just to work a little with tatum.

tatum was the new head chef, hired in from out of state. while initially only here to fill a gap while the company found a permanent chef, tatum organized the kitchen and presented such impressive food and work ethic that the owners had offered them a full time position, one they hesitated on for a few days. finally though, with some convincing, they were the new head chef at "Rye," a made-from-scratch restaurant that prided itself on whole, natural ingredients.

lua enjoyed watching them. a walkway separated lua's table from tatum's stovetop, the two facing each other often. it had been the first little smirk that did it. lua hadn't been able to stop staring at them since her shift started, eyes locked on the sweaty arms that lifted heavy pots and plated food beautifully. tatum's hair was short, buzzed close to the head, and a septum ring that looked like barbed wire dangled from their nose. they were older than most in the kitchen, probably in their late 30s or early 40s. their eyes were deep set and they had a sharp jawline and an even sharper wit. catching lua staring, they asked loudly over kitchen noises,

"can i help you, wonderbread?"

it took a moment for lua to catch up but when she did, she was stunned; huffing out a sigh and mouth agape, she shook her head, trying to come up with a better remark.

"nah, i don't think you could! thanks though," she smirked, giving a sympathetic look before turning back to her bowl of dough.

it was playful kitchen banter, that's all! still, lua wondered if she had fucked up by back talking the new boss. it's not like she believed it either. she was sure tatum could bake, but the treatment she'd received as a baker from other chefs had always annoyed her.

for tatum's part, they could bake, but not very well. realistically, they knew they couldn't help that much, and that lua was right. even so, they didn't appreciate her pointing it out in front of every one.

they did appreciate how she looked when she did it, though. they loved other butches and lua ticked all the right boxes for them. as she turned back to her mixer, tatum watched as she hauled the heavy mixing bowl onto a cart and turned, pushing the cart towards the back of the kitchen.

her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and she moved purposely, on a mission.

tatum couldn't help it, the curiosity got the better of them. who was this person to back talk them like that?

they took their gloves off and trashed them, following lua as she walked past coolers and hot boxes.

lua tried not to think about what she had said, growing nervous tatum would reprimand her. she tried to clear her thoughts, but was unable to shake the feeling.

finally, she reached one of the large metal boxes at the back of the room, one tatum had seen but never actually used. they leaned against the wall casually and stared as lua unloaded the dough from the cart and placed it into the box. ah, a dough proofer.

as lua turned around to walk back to her station, she jumped, startled by tatum's sudden appearance.

"shit! you scared me!" she blushed and looked towards the floor, trying not to make eye contact.

"oh, yeah? just wanted to see where you were going with all that dough."

lua's eyebrows furrowed and she finally looked at tatum, arms crossed, and fought back nervousness to ask,

"what, are you like obsessed with me now?"

lua smirked before throwing a towel over her shoulder and stepping forward to pass tatum.

tatum wasn't obsessed with lua, they were just getting fed up with this "know-it-all" attitude and figured she just needed someone to put her in her place. they stepped in front of lua's path, blocking the walkway with their large frame. staring down at her, they crossed their arms to look imposing and said smugly,

"my office, now."

lua was scared. so many thoughts raced through her mind. had she gone too far? misread the situation? was she getting fired? she turned, tail tucked, and walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway that lead to tatum's office. tatum did not follow immediately behind, instead taking a moment to check on the rest of the kitchen, leaving lua to stew in her thoughts..

lua sat on the hard leather chair in front of tatum's desk and took in the space. it hasn't been long enough for them to truly decorate, but a few photos hung on the wall and some knick knacks sat scattered on their desk. lua could feel her palms beginning to sweat as the anticipation dug into her, unsure of her fate. she’d worked here for so long, been so excited to put it on her resume. was she really gonna let some beefcake like tatum ruin her? she let the thought wander a little too far and before she knew it, she was fantasizing about their chest and arms. she wished tatum would ruin her.

finally, the door to the office slowly creaked open and tatum's head poked through. their body followed and they strode inside, the door’s lock clicking behind them. sitting down behind their desk, tatum stared at lua with unwavering eyes. their hands sat clasped on their stomach as they leaned back, thinking of what they should do.

fuck, they thought, now is my chance.

she looked so good right now, sitting there with her hat off and hair fussy, clearly nervous. her coat was unbuttoned slightly at the top, not technically dress code, but tatum didn’t give a shit. lua’s collarbones and cleavage peeked out and tatum couldn’t help but stare.

“hello?”

lua’s voice shook tatum back to reality, reminding them they were supposed to be reprimanding her. clearing their throat, tatum narrowed their eyes and leaned into their desk, drinking up the sight of lua.

“don’t you know the rules about workplace bullying?” they said, trying to sound stern.

lua scoffed, looking around the room before replying.

“that? you think that was workplace bullying?” she asked, chuckling a little bit as she relaxed in her chair.

tatum stood and walked in front of the desk. both lua and tatum had their arms crossed, staring up and down and one another waiting for someone to make a move. tatum was as cool as a cucumber but before long, lua grew too anxious waiting and found the courage to stand up, knocking her chair back a little as she did. now, the two stood with mere inches between their faces.

“what are you going to do about it?” her voice shook more than she meant for it to, but the words came out nonetheless.

this just about did it for tatum. they hated being undermined, especially if it was from a sexy butch coworker.. without thinking, their hand shot up to lua’s neck, thumb and index fingers pressed against her jawline. her eyes lit up as she stared back at tatum, desperate for them.  “wow,” she gasped, “i didn’t think you had it in you.”

tatum exploded, excited to show lua exactly how much they had it in them. they pushed her down face first onto the desk, her hands catching her before she fell. with one hand holding her head down, tatum’s other hand pulled at her pants, desperately trying to get them over lua’s curves. once they did, they found boxer briefs that hugged her beautifully. lua whimpered as tatum’s hand explored her, rubbing her ass and feeling her thighs, playing with the seams of her underwear but never explicitly touching her. they let go of her hair and pulled her coat off, revealing a form fitting tank top. with force, tatum flipped her over and hauled her onto the desk and pulled off her briefs to reveal a dripping, hairy pussy. tatum dropped to their knees and pushed lua’s leg onto the desk, staring up at her, ready to prove her wrong.

lua’s head rolled back and she began to moan as tatum’s tongue circled her throbbing cunt. before she could make too much noise however, tatum’s fingers dug into her thighs leaving dark red scratch marks. this stunted her moans.

they ate ravenously, slurping up every bit of her as they could, gnawing at her thighs as she squirmed. unable to contain herself, lua pulled her tank top down and revealed massive, bouncing tits; a sight that almost made tatum cum on sight. the black tank top squeezed her breasts together in a way that made them look extra succulent. tatum stared up at her with their tongue buried in her cunt and couldn’t take it anymore. they stood up abruptly and began unbuckling their belt. like the good slut lua was proving to be, she dropped to her knees this time to help, mouth open, tongue out and ready to take all of them. the moment tatum unbuckled their belt, lua was pulling at their own briefs this time. hungrily and with wide eyes, lua stared down tatum’s rock hard cock, slick with precum, before shoving it down her throat. tatum had to stifle their moans this time. the sight of lua’s tits under their throbbing dick reminded them why they were here; lua needed punishing.

yanking her up by her hair, tatum bent lua back over this table, spreading her legs with theirs. with a deep breath from both of them, they pushed the tip of their cock in and shoved hard, pressing her in between them and the desk. lua loved it, her pussy throbbing and clenching around tatum. suddenly, their hands pressed against her face and fingers slipped into her mouth, using her face as an anchor as they pounded their cock into her even harder. lua felt the cold wood of the desk press against her hard nipples and the feeling of tatum’s cock so deep inside her, she began to shake, orgasm taking hold of her body. tatum saw in the reflection of the computer lua’s tit’s bouncing as they slammed into her, each thrust hitting the perfect spot, and without warning, tatum felt the pressure of come rising through their veiny cock. with a final thrust and moan, tatum let lua fall onto the desk, cum leaking from her hairy cunt as she lay there, legs shaking.

“i think that probably helped enough, don’t you think?” tatum asked smugly, staring at the destroyed mess they were leaving behind. pulling their pants up and smushing their now soft cock into their briefs, they turned back to face lua before walking out of the office.

“you should get back to work soon.”

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