#that's his stolen child thank you very much

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART TWELVE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, heavy topics such as death, blood, and past trauma mentioned masterlist a/n: thank you for all your support while i grow through a difficult time!! i appreciate all of you for being so patient and loving. long chapter for u!! <3

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Ghost didn’t remember much about his childhood. His mind blocked it out for him. But he did remember the pain and suffering he went through at such a young age.

He didn’t deserve that. Seeing his family, massacred in front of him. The blood mixed with the metallic scent that even now seemed to tinge his nose with a nostalgia that made him sick.

He was only a child, yet that was the day Ghost was born within him.

It was like an awakening. He saw how cruel the world could be through a pure lens and it tainted his vision red. Nothing was ever the same that day, and gradually, Simon was forgotten and Ghost was his new muse.

He could recall the nights he spent alone, digging through waste bins and slumping out on the streets like a dead dog. Stealing bread from shop merchants and having to run, barefooted to avoid getting beaten. Freezing to death on the street corner when winter came around and the pure snow covered the ground in a blanket.

It was scary for a boy his age. Dehumanizing. He didn’t deserve that.

He thought he was lucky when a ship crew came along, parading the streets to offer security. A job, a place to sleep, and meals — it seemed perfect for somebody who had absolutely nothing.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Ghost never saw Simon again after that day. He was lost somewhere at sea, hidden under the roar of waves. Ghost didn’t know where to look for him until soon enough, Simon had disappeared and Ghost replaced him. Graves made sure of that.

A captain, like hell he was. Ghost knew something wasn’t quite right about Graves the moment he met him, yet as a child, he was desperate. Once he was in, it was too late, and the broken pieces of him became completely irreparable.

Graves held a devilish aura about him, one Ghost could practically see radiating around him. Every step he took was one closer to chaos.

No matter the destination, Ghost was held on by a leash with Graves being the handler. The sights Ghost saw, some being from his doing, was something he’d never get back. It was as if reliving that very day where he lost everything.

Living amongst Graves’ crew was worse than living in hell. He would’ve preferred it. To be banished for his sins, to taste the sweet nectar of death, and live his eternity punished. Anything to stray from Graves and his ship.

When he saw the way you looked—the darkness looming over you, the distress in your eyes—he saw himself. And when he saw Graves, he saw the life that was stolen from him.

That red that clouded his lens when he was a child was all he could see. Pure, angry red.

Now, standing in Price’s quarters, that red only grew angrier. This time, for you—for putting you in the same position he’d been stuck in for years.

You didn’t deserve that.

Your mind was a whirlwind of chaos. It was struggling to digest the information given to you. So much at once and you could barely manage to keep yourself together.

Everybody looked sorry for you. Ghost looked enraged. Price was lost. Soap and Gaz were remorseful. It was too much.

You hated that they looked at you like that. You hated when they didn’t look at you like that more. Having them worry, when for the duration of your stay it was like walking on burning rocks, it felt strange.

Their own worry caused yours as well.

“What is that?” you asked. “The mark of death. I— I don’t know what that is. What does that mean?”

You were becoming more frantic. The panic that ensued was growing, and you could tell it bothered Price. He was quick to grasp your shoulders, settling you.

“It’s complicated,” he explained quietly, hushing you. “That man you saw? His name is Phillip Graves. Some call him the Devil of the Seas. He’s a wicked pirate who feeds off of the innocent, their fear. None of us know what he truly is, not even Ghost, but we believe he’s apart of something sinister.”

“What, like he’s sold his soul? Made amends with the Devil? You are talking madness!” you exclaimed, exasperated.

“We are talkin’ truth,” Price corrected. He was as patient as ever, yet still held the firmness of a leader. “He’s that of a reaper. Souls is what he wants. The mark of death is his contract, you may say.”

“But you are not telling me what the mark does,” you cried.

Your head hurt. The world was spinning. You didn’t understand.

“I think it’s quite obvious what the markin’ is, dove,” the Captain said solemnly. “It is only by miracle it hasn’t happened to Ghost yet.”

“So I am to die? Is that it?” You flickered your gaze between each man. Your eyes told a million stories, and each of them were ones of fear and anguish. “I am going to die?”

“No,” Ghost snapped. You looked at him. He seemed as pain as you were, but the anger was taking over logic. “You ain’t dyin’. Not today, not tomorrow. M’not lettin’ it happen.”

“Ghost,” Soap tried, but he was quickly shut down.

“I said no,” he repeated resentfully. “Price, show her the map.”

Price turned to him, stiffening. It seemed he still didn’t quite want to let you know the full truth. Now, you felt it was to protect you rather than leave you out. It was too late for protection.

The Captain silently walked to his desk, pulling open the old drawer with a slam, shaking the table. He pulled out the map you’d seen so long ago, unrolling it and slapping it on the table.

“Come, dove,” he called, and you listened.

The men surrounded the desk with you, staring down at the map. The ink was still the same as it was before—islands crossed out with an X, while one remained circled.

“Suppose it’s time you knew, hm?” he asked, offering the smallest of smiles. You found that you missed his real one. The one he tried to hide when he found a joke of yours humorous.

Your nerves shot up. Your emotions were at an all-time high. You were scared, scared to find out the truth.

“These islands,” he began, tracing his finger along the map to point at the ones with an X, “are all land marked by Graves. Every single one, we went to in search of a medic. The one in the poem, remember?”

The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

You weren’t sure how it linked to you. You’d never met Graves, nor had you met your pirate crew until they took you away. The connection wasn’t there. It didn’t make sense.

“Yes, I remember,” you confirmed quietly. “What does it have to do with me?”

“We searched for a medic from every village, yet when we arrived, they were famished with death, or on the brink of,” he explained. “All of the villages were all succumbin’ to Graves’ mark of death. We think he was attemptin’ to get rid of all villages as much as he could so we wouldn’t be able to find their medics. We don’t know how, but he knows we have the prophecy, and he doesn’t like it.”

“And how do you know the prophecy is related to Graves?” you questioned. “How do you know it relates to me?”

“Ghost got the prophecy a long time ago when he was still on Graves’ ship,” Soap piped in. His hands rested on the table and he leaned over the map, but his eyes bore into yours. “He was searchin’ for answers even then. This is all he got.”

You couldn’t imagine the desperation Ghost must have felt, knowing Graves had him under his despicable spell. Not knowing whether he was going to live or die.

Your heart ached.

“And me?”

The room went silent, as if your words burned a wound in them.

“Your village had the mark, yet nobody had suffered from it,” Gaz said quietly. His eyes were soft when he looked at you with the unmistakable glimmer of pity in them. “We knew you were the one we were lookin’ for.”

“My village was not cursed,” you denied, shaking your head. “There is simply no possibility. We rarely got outsiders unless they were coming to browse the merchants.”

It clicked in your head how quickly it must’ve happened. Graves, visiting your village under the guise of an innocent shopper, gearing his interest towards the various merchants that littered your small streets.

It would’ve been so easy for him. So terribly easy.

Your people died to Price’s crew, but the true evil was the man who gave the pirates reason to ensure a massacre.

“That’s why you did what you did,” you muttered to yourself in disbelief. “You killed them because of him. You killed Mary because of him.”

“The curse would’ve taken over the moment you left,” Gaz explained. “You were the shield protectin’ them without even knowin’. You’re meant to fulfill the prophecy, grantin’ you immunity until we found you.”

All this talk about a prophecy made you want to scream, cry, yell, anything. Why you? Why were you the one chosen, and why did it have to be you?

You wanted your life back. You didn’t want to be apart of this.

Before you knew it, tears welled up in your eyes. They stung, causing you to blink rapidly. You didn’t want to seem weak, but in this moment, you were.

“Dove?” Gaz called out, concerned.

“I don’t want this,” you cried, shaky hands balling into fists. “You—you knew I was apart of this and never told me. You kept me in the dark for this long, you hid me from the truth, and for why?”

“We don’t have all of the information yet, dove, please—” Price began, but you shut him down.

“Bullshit!” you shouted, and he reeled back in surprise. You had been outspoken before, plenty with the Captain especially, but he had never seen you lash out so fiercely. “You took my life away because you assumed I was the one in your ridiculous prophecy on a whim. You took a guess and went with it. I am hardly a proper medic, let alone worthy enough to be that person for you, so why have you chosen me?”

“You must understand, you were the only medic left alive,” Price defended. “We had no choice. We did what we had to do.”

“At my expense,” you argued.

“At all of our expense,” he retorted. “I did not care for your life when we stole it. I did not care for it when you were locked in the brig. I cared for Simon’s.”

You fell silent, whipping your head to look at Ghost. You’d heard Price call him Simon before, by a slip-up, but now he had said it purposely. Ghost simply looked away, arms crossed over his chest.

All that talk before and now, at your aid, he was as quiet as a street mouse.

“Without you, he will die. We do not know when. Graves hasn’t killed him due to the thrill of holdin’ his life in his hands. It’s a toy to him. He can take his life away at any moment, and I would not allow that, even if it meant ruinin’ yours.”

Price’s cheeks were reddened from the frustration and helplessness he was feeling. He was a Captain trying to save his crew’s life, uncaring of yours—in the beginning, at least.

Now, the mere thought of losing both had him kneeling like a pitiful dog to the Devil of the Seas.

“I do not wish to be here,” you murmured, taking a step back. Soap opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him. “I need to be alone.”

The Captain gave you a sad smile, nodding his head. He was respecting your wishes.

“As you wish,” he agreed, and you made your way out of the suffocating quarters, returning to your shared one with Gaz and Soap.

“Dove,” a voice called out. It was quiet, like it was whispering, yet to you, it sounded loud. You hated its voice.

It was black. Your eyes couldn’t adjust to the light, no matter how much you shifted them to look around.

Your body felt heavy, as if something was weighing on you. Your lungs were tight, and when you opened your mouth for air, nothing came in. You slapped your hands over your throat, clawing at the skin.

Why couldn’t you breathe? You felt like you were drowning. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t take in an ounce of air, and you could feel your lungs beginning to protest.

A cold panic came over you, like an icy wave consuming you in its dangerous waters. You tried to move your legs, but they were stuck. They were too heavy.

All you could do was helplessly paw at your throat, praying to gasp for a breath, praying that the Gods had mercy on you.

“Dove,” it whispered once more. Where had you heard the voice before? You knew it, but your mind was blanking from the lack of oxygen.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove,” it mocked.

Dove. Dove. Dove.

“Dove!”

You shot awake, a sharp gasp invading your lungs. The burning in your chest was harsh, and it was as if you truly hadn’t been breathing.

Coming to, you blinked the groggy confusion away, lifting a hand to wipe at your eyes.

Soap peered down at you, his eyebrows knitted worriedly. His hands were on each side of your shoulders, as if he’d shaken you awake, and when you realized you had been asleep, you only guessed that’s what he was doing.

“I kept callin’ ye but ye weren’t wakin’,” he said wearily. “Are y’alright?”

You glanced around the room, taking it in. Gaz’s bed. The clothes strewn on the floor. The mess on the small desk that you’d never seen occupied.

You were no longer suffocating in darkness. It was a mere dream—no, a nightmare. A terror.

You were safe.

“I don’t know,” you confessed breathily, still catching air.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you recalled the nightmare. You couldn’t remember the voice, not when you were fearing a death that was merely fake, but you knew now.

“Tell me,” Soap urged gently, taking a seat next to you on the bed. You sat up to join him, frowning at the floor. “It’s okay.”

You risked looking up at him, searching his eyes. They were soft whenever they looked at you, and they’d been like that since the beginning. He was always patient, even when you did things that cost him a scolding from Price.

You felt like you could trust him, more than any of them.

“It was that man,” you explained. “Graves. I think he is messing with my head. I dreamt of dying, like… like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. The whole time, I could hear his voice, calling me out. Mocking me.”

Soap listened carefully, taking in every one of your words. He cared, that much you could tell, and the situation weighed heavy on him. The worry lines on his face were proof.

Graves was tormenting with your mind, feeding into your fear. He knew you were terrified, and he enjoyed it. The way he mimicked what he told you, whispering it the same as before, it sent chills down your spine and made your blood run cold.

You understood now why Ghost was always a mystery—because he was scared, too. He just hid it better.

“I am scared,” you confessed shakily. “I do not want to die.”

“And ye won’t,” he assured, but you shook your head.

“You do not know that,” you argued. “None of you do. You have not given me a chance at life. I am stuck in this without a choice, and I am the new target. It’s not fair.”

Soap’s expression dropped into one of guilt. His focus shifted away from you, avoiding your eye, before returning back to you.

“It’s not,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve done to ye what Graves did to Ghost. Treatin’ ye like—like burdening scum, like ye don’t matter. I can’t express to ye how sorry I am for everythin’.”

You didn’t want an apology, but you accepted it nonetheless. It was the first anybody had truly apologized for the mess you were thrown into. Maybe it was something you needed without realizing. You felt a sliver of weight lifted.

“I never had a family,” you told him, staring down at your feet that hung over the side of the bed. The shoes Soap surprised you with stared back at you. “The village did not like my values or my lifestyle. It was hard being an outcast there, but it is even harder here.”

“Yer not an outcast.”

Looking back up at him, you found him smiling, a faint sparkle twinkling back at you.

“Not anymore. We thought ye were a little strange in the beginning, though,” he said, the end of his sentence bordering a tease.

You couldn’t stop your own smile from forming. Despite carrying the crushing weight of the world’s worries, as well as growing a headache with every word spoken from each of them ever since your arrival, you found yourself growing more fond over them the longer you lingered.

It’d been a bumpy road, and there were still miles ahead of you, waiting to unravel. But you couldn’t fully convince yourself that there wasn’t a part of you, yearning to belong with them.

“You are all very strange,” you retorted lightly. “I have never met such people as you before.”

“Thank ye.”

“It was not a compliment.”

Soap snorted, shaking his head at the banter. “The Captain is bitin’ tooth and nail in his quarters, thinkin’ he fucked this all up with ye. Never seen him that worried before, but with Graves bein’ around again, I don’t blame him.”

The statement caught you off guard, and you found yourself curious. “He is worried for me?”

Soap eyed you strangely, as if it had been obvious the whole time. “Ach. ‘Course he is. Cap’s got a good heart, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I did not realize he cared for me after everything,” you confessed.

Soap hummed, looking down at his trousers and picking at a loose thread. “We all do.”

You stared at him dumbly, cocking your head in question when he didn’t elaborate. You had become acquainted with them, surely, you lived with them now after all, but you weren’t aware they truly cared.

When Price had told you they’d grown fond of you, you didn’t quite believe it. You assumed it was his way of convincing you to trust him, but it seemed that wasn’t the truth.

The two of you sat in silence, staring anywhere but at each other. The awkwardness grew, and it felt strange to feel that when the relationships had been too uptight even consider having those moments.

You took the time to weigh out your options. The Captain being worried, especially over messing things up with you, had you in a turmoil.

As much as you wanted to deny the path chosen for you unwillingly, you felt an obligation to please them. Yet, not in the way you initially thought.

You didn’t want to let them down.

Maybe you truly were as strange as Soap thought.

“Is he still in there?” you asked Soap. He perked up, nodding his head.

“Aye. He’ll be rottin’ in there before we know it.”

You pursed your lips, facing that inner battle once more before coming to a conclusion. “Would you like to join me, then?”

Soap raised his eyebrows, watching you stand from the bed. You shot him a warm smile, tilting your head at his confusion.

“For?” he asked.

“You all need a medic,” you said, giving a nonchalant shrug. “And I do not wish to die by the hands of a filthy pirate such as Graves. I am in this now, so I suppose I’ll simply have to deal with it, am I correct?”

Soap’s smile slowly grew at your sudden courage, standing up to join you. He reached out for you, and once you became confused, he looped your arm with his, grinning down at you.

“Sure are, dove. I’ll come with ye.”

The Captain looked a mess when you entered his quarters with Soap. Ghost was beside him where Price sat at his desk, the map and prophecy still scattered on the table. The two of them were speaking hushed to one another, yet when the door opened and you stepped in, they went silent.

“She wanted to be alone, Soap,” Price protested, but you quickly shook your head, taking a step closer to the desk.

“It’s alright,” you assured. “I have had time to think.”

Price’s eyebrows raised and he glanced at Gaz for a brief moment before returning to you. “I see,” he hummed, nodding. “I have as well.”

You cocked your head, eyebrows furrowing. He gestured for Ghost and Soap to step out of the room, requesting privacy, and the sudden realization that you would in fact have to speak after your outburst made your nerves to churn.

Ghost gave your shoulder a light squeeze as he walked behind Soap, catching you off guard. When you looked at him, he stared forward, avoiding your gaze.

The door clicked shut as they left, and you stood uncomfortably in place, shifting on the balls of your feet.

“I owe you an apology,” Price began. “A true one. I may be a Captain, and I know in those regards, I come off rather violent. I can be a brute, I will admit, but I am also a man who knows times when he is right and wrong.”

He stood up from his chair, circling around the desk to face you. He leaned against the old wood, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. Upon quick inspection, you saw the faint smoke of his cigar swirling in its ashtray.

“I should not have treated you so unkindly since the beginning. I should have considered how scared you must have been, how alone it must feel,” he continued, eyes drifting off for a moment as if deep in perplexing thought. “I do not apologize for doin’ what I thought was right in that time to save my own, but I do feel sorrow for what transpired in your time bein’ here.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Ghost had been the reasoning for this. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you knew the respect him and Price had for one another. It was safe to assume he’d speak with him privately regarding everything.

“I’d like to apologize as well,” you began, but Price stood up straight, quick to raise his hands in protest.

“You have nothin’ to apologize for—”

“I am sorry for lashing out the way I did earlier,” you cut off. Price stopped, lips pressing together. His gaze remained stuck on you, now that you had his attention. “It does not excuse what you have done to me, and I see you have realized that. If this is to be my life, I wish for compromise rather than seclusion.”

Price didn’t say anything at first. His eyes darted over your face, taking in your features. He saw the calmness you held compared to when you were last in his quarters.

You didn’t seem defeated, nor did you seem to simply agree for the sake of him and the others. You wanted this for yourself.

“I will grant you that,” he agreed in a hum, nodding once. “I do not wish for you to feel out of place no longer. You have had enough of that, I believe.”

You took in his words, and they made you smile. It was what you wanted to hear—no angry exchanges, no selfish banter. A simple compromise, one you both wanted.

“Graves came to me in a dream,” you told him. His expression soured. “I believe there will be plenty more instances where he will do that. Based off of what you have told me about him, I do not want to prolong his presence longer than I must. So, I’d like to be of help.”

Just as quickly as Price grew tense at the mention of Graves, he calmed down, shoulders relaxing when he realized your implications.

“Soap has not convinced you, yes?” he asked, uncertain. “This is your call. I may have taken you due to my own selfishness, but I give you the choice now. You do not have to be a part of it if you do not want. You are part of us now, but this is not your battle.”

“It is,” you disagreed, though remained a calm composure. For the first time around Price, you felt at ease in the same room. “If I am to be part of your crew, your family, then your battles are my battles. I may not have had a family, but I am certain that’s how it works. Does it not?”

Price stared at you; expression unreadable. It took mere moments for his lips to slowly curl up, granting you one of his rare smiles that seemed to radiate a certain light you’d never seen before. It caused your heart to pick up, though you were unclear as to why.

“That is how it works with us, dove,” he agreed softly. “Your battles are ours. You can count on it.”

“Wonderful,” you cheered with a smile of your own. “Shall we continue what wasn’t finished before, then?”

Price chuckled low under his breath, his amusement growing the longer you stuck around. He nodded, tapping his desk and calling you to it.

“Come on, dove.”

[ridiasfangirlings]

Post-RoK and the different clans are no longer at war and even help each other when needed. Fushimi ends up one day being asked to help the Silvers out with something. He finds the other clan strange especially Shiro who he had to interact with a lot as he's the one needing help. Fushimi can't fully disklike the guy though as Shiro is smart and actually doing something with it and he finds they get along when it comes to academic stuff. He's spent a lot of time with them during this event that Shiro says he's practically an honorary member. (I just like the idea of Fushimi fitting in somewhat with any clan he could get into).

Fushimi being very certain that he can’t fit in anywhere while fitting in with every clan is something I enjoy about him XD Say post-ROK there’s some issue happening at the school island that the Silvers are handling, like they’re finally doing some proper remodeling to both fix the damage done in the past couple years and also maybe add some extra accommodations for the kids who still kept their powers after the Slate woke up. Shiro is spearheading the latter part of this in particular, and as part of getting everyone comfortable with each other in the school again they’re having a big school festival once things are complete. There’s a pretty tight deadline and it’s a lot of work for Shiro, especially since he only has two clansmen and Neko has classes of her own, so he sheepishly asks Munakata for anyone he can spare. Munakata happens to have the perfect assistance, sending Shiro just one person but assuring him that Fushimi-kun has the processing power of six people. 

At first I could see things being very awkward, since Fushimi isn’t exactly personable and I imagine he gets on everyone’s nerves right away. Neko doesn’t want to work with him because he’s mean while Kuroh keeps trying to ‘improve his mood and work ethic’ with well-timed haiku. Shiro plays peacemaker, reminding everyone that Fushimi is helping them here and please treat him as a guest. Fushimi clicks his tongue and says he doesn’t care but then imagine everyone just slowly warming up to him. Kukuri brings everyone lunch one day and gives Fushimi a special bento because she noticed he doesn’t eat much, Fushimi manages to mumble out a ‘thanks’ in return. He starts picking out the vegetables immediately, much to Kuroh’s dismay and now he’s probably determined to give Fushimi some healthy food. Neko meanwhile is suddenly feeling very friendly because look someone else who just wants to eat meat and not veggies, like they have a common ground now.

Shiro’s also busy with his teaching work and at some point Fushimi ends up helping him grade tests, just to get it done so Shiro can get back to the other work. Shiro gives him an answer key and apologizes for the trouble, and then is all surprised when Fushimi’s just flying through the grading without even looking at the key because he knows all this stuff. Now Shiro’s intrigued and starts chatting with him about science stuff, he’s really impressed with Fushimi’s mind and he gets what Munakata was saying about this person’s abilities. The other kids at Ashinaka start taking Fushimi’s presence in stride too, half of them are treating him as if he’s a fellow student while Fushimi grumbles and clicks his tongue and Shiro laughs because it seems Fushimi fits right in. (Though then he makes a joke about Fushimi becoming an honorary member of the clan and somehow Munakata sends him a message an hour later politely but firmly asking for Fushimi-kun back because Munakata stole him fair and square thank you.)

[ehlnofay]

I've been having fun dipping into martin's perspective lately... it's helping me flesh out my interpretation of him and he never fails to be suffering tremendously in a way that is excellent to write

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THINGS THEY DO WHEN THEY'RE CRUSHING ON YOU !

synopsis: the strawhats think they're so subtle with their 'nonchalant` acts of love towards you... 😒 they're not

character: sanji, zoro & luffy

warning: pure tooth rotting fluffy fluff & nicknames

mei's note: guess who's back from her hibernation 👋😔.. but on the bright side- l do have loads planned hihhih <3

SANJI thinks he's so very casual when displaying his crushing feelings. but in reality it is the complete opposite, considering:

♡ the stolen glances of you during meals with all the strawhats, where he doesn't even eat anything, instead being totally engrossed in your cute laughs derived from usopp's unfunny jokes. the way your fingers gently hold your fork always piques his interest. he studies your facial expressions when you taste the food he prepared for everyone, to figure out whether you enjoy it. if you did enjoy the meal, expect to see it thrice as much as usual..

♡ the lingering touches you receive from sanji anytime he has the chance, which, on a side note, never cease to make your cheeks burn;

he needs to get past you to grab some plates => his hands, almost instinctively, gently grab your waist before he lowers his head, asking you "if you don't mind, darling-". one of his hands remains on the sides of your waist even when you've moved aside to let him pass. "thank you," he whispers in your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand. you awkwardly giggle, not finding an appropriate answer.

luffy was letting his 6-year-old child mentality take over; jumping around on deck and bothering the other strawhats trying to get accustomed to the sun shining so early in the morning. he didn't see you walking out of your shared room with nami before accidentally bumping into you, causing you to trip => sanji is there before you could even process the situation. one of his arms tightly holding your legs. In contrast, his other arm was wrapped around your waist, pushing you onto him. "luffy, you little-!" sanji realizes he still has you in bridal style when he cuts himself off, "are you alright, sweetheart? you're not hurt, are you?" he could've sworn your soft smile melted his heart right then and there, even the other strawhats noticed how absolutely smitten this man is for you.

♡ the abundant patience sanji offers you is one of a kind. you won't find him smiling, oh so softly, at any strawhat's mistakes except yours. it's only you that he's so careful with, so gentle and soft-spoken. treating you as if you were a fragile vase, that one wrong move would break you.

"sweetheart- that's not how you cut a carrot," sanji chuckles, witnessing how you, somehow, accidentally mushed the carrot with the knife instead of cutting it. usopp lets out a cackle as he sees the mush which has derived from your cutting skills.

"only you could mess up cutting a carrot!" sanji glares at usopp, making him cover his mouth, trying to sniffle the laugh. he slowly walks out of the kitchen, slightly scared sanji might throw him overboard.

"let's try something else, yeah?" the blond-haired cook smiles at you.

he stands behind you, holding both your hands with his, before grabbing the knife with your right hand and holding a new carrot with your left one. like a puppet master, he controls the motions of your hands, and after a bit, you find the carrots all sliced up. "see? knew could do it," sanji caresses your hands with his.

"sanji..?" you mutter, leaning against his chest.

he looks down at you and hums, waiting for you to say whatever was on you mind. "can we eat now?"

you receive a chuckle from sanji as he nods. "of course darling, we can eat now. thanks a lot for helping me," he sends you a smile before grabbing the plates.

ZORO knows he's being way too obvious with you, but he frankly just doesn't care enough. everyone and their mother knows he has a crush on you tolerates you more than other people because of:

♡ how protective he is of you. this man won't let a fly harm you, let alone actual enemies during fights. he'd rather come back with some more scars than let them lay a finger on you. hence why you find yourself in the current situation.

zoro's sat down whilst hearing both you and nami lash out on him. a sigh leaves his mouth.

"why are you so stubborn?!" you cry out, eyes red and watery from the sheer fear of almost having lost him.

nami shakes her head, dumbfounded. "you could've fucking died, zoro. has that thought ever crossed your small fucking mind, huh?!"

"I was fine zoro.. I would've made it.. you- you didnt have to-" you utter before cutting yourself off, lip wobbling with tears-stained cheeks. "just.. don't ever do that again, 'kay?" you stand inbetween his widespread legs, your hands meet both sides of his face, pulling it to meet your eyes. "please.."

as if on que, his eyes soften and his furrowed eyebrows loosen immediately. he lets out yet another sigh, but this time, one of defeat. "alright." zoro's heart aches at the sight of those tears on your pretty face. it aches even more knowing he was the cause of them.

the strawhats are astonished, flabbergasted and, on top of that, even a bit annoyed at how easily zoro folded. at that very moment sanji, nami and usopp shared collective eyecontact, they knew how down bad he was. and now they have yet another thing to bully him about..

♡ his over-the-top jealousy has you and everyone within a 100m radius of you in a chokehold. no one dares to as much as look your way anymore. zoro made sure of that. if someone even breathes too hard near you, this man will be on his way to knock him out.

♡ the fact that he has his hands on you 24/7, always seems so obvious and nonchalant to him. he doesn't even think twice about it anymore. his arm around your shoulders, his hand spread on your back, him shamelessly holding your waist with one of his hands while the other is occupied holding some bags.

his arm is wrapped around your waist as you two stand in line. you had gotten the task to do the groceries with zoro, but once you say a smelled a sweet, floraly fragrance, both you and zoro knew this 'short' and 'easy' task would take much longer than planned.

"i'll be super quick, zoro, I promise!" you giggle as you look up at him reassuring. "mhm, ya said that last time, too, remember? ended up taking a whole day, and somehow I had to carry all those bags for ya," zoro raises his brows at you playfully, knowing very well he'd hold all the bags in the world for you if you'd want him to.

"yeah~ i know.. thank you," you smile at him, receiving an eye roll from him. "yeah, yeah, now hurry up and get movin'." you move along to catch up with the que, missing the way he smiles as you so absolutely adored.

LUFFY himself doesn't realize he treats you differently from the other strawhats. most of the things he does because of his little crush on you usually don't even register in him. but to the strawhats, it's so obvious he likes you due to:

♡ him attentively listening to you whenever you speak, never fails to shock the other strawhats. they could go hours on end, scolding luffy for whatever possible thing he had done, and there would be a good chance he wouldn't even bat an eye. but when you do it- that's when he gets serious.

"luffy! stop fucking around and get serious!" nami yells out, trying to get his attention. "LUFFY!"

luffy keeps peeling the banana in his hand, not paying all too much attention to what nami is on about. it's not that he doesn't care! it's just that this yelling gets repetitive, so he doesn't really pay attention to all the small quarrels every now and then. he's listening to what she's saying, he really is! he just doesn't want to enter the argument.

but then his eyes shoot up from his half-peeled banana. you were talking to him. " 'luf, what we're trying to get at is that you were acting very reckless, and you got us really worried about you, y'know.." you cross your arms over each other before making eye contact with the raven-haired captain.

"sorry," luffy mutters wholeheartedly, looking you in the eyes. his previous grin disappeared after he heard you speak to him. "i'll try not to anymore, 'kay?" he opens the banana completely and points it your way, wanting you to take a bite.

you smile and head over to the spot he's seated in and take a piece of the fruit before leaning against the back of the seat. "sorry I scared you, sunshine..." luffy mutters, soft enough for only you to hear. "really didn't mean to.."

you let out a small sigh of relief. " 'ts alright 'luf! just promise you'll be more careful from now on.. please," you lean against the side of his body as you rise your head, looking at the beautiful night view from the boat.

"i promise I'll try, sunshine, I really will." and with that, his usual toothy smile is back.

nami rolls her eyes, scoffing, as she munches on some of the pastry sanji had prepared earlier. sanji nudges zoro to witness the scene unfolding before their eyes. usopp sniffles his laugh with his hand, hiding behind zoro.

they could all agree on the fact that you were his soft spot.

♡ his usual grin being replaced with a soft smile whenever you speak is another thing that luffy never realizes. yet the others do.

you'd speak about the most mundane chores or moments you've experienced. albeit it being some of the most tedious things known to man, he'd listen so thoughtfully. as if anticipating a shocking ending, yet there in reality, he wasn't anticipating anything like that. he genuinely just lived your voice.

the way you pronounce the words. the small differences in pronunciation between you and others always bring a small to his face, he finds it absolutely adorable. the specific words you use to describe something never cease to make him smile ear to ear.

plus points if you're talking about something you're passionate about. he'd be so overwhelmed with how endearing you look speaking about your hobbies and loves. the small smile on your pretty face, growing wider and your tone getting giddier.

in conclusion, this man loves to listen to you yap about anything, to be honest.

my other one piece fics

mei's note pt.2 : also if you've seen this post before it was finished (bc someone accidentally published it before it was done) no you didn't...

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Aakhon Mein Teri ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Summary: Lando Norris and his very desi girlfriend <3

: ̗̀➛ ln4 x desi!reader ₊˚⊹♡

: ̗̀➛ fluff + humour ₊˚⊹♡

masterlist ☾☼

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 321,970 others

yourusername: manifesting that our story doesn't end like om shanti om

view all 85,261 comments

landonorris this movie was traumatising

yourusername no it wasn't!

user1 it really is

landonorris next time im picking a movie for movie night

yourusername no 😚

user2 dunno who i love more srk or lando

yourusername the only reason im with lando is cause srk is too old for me

landonorris wtf babe????

maxfewtrell you need to stop showing him movies that'll keep him up at night

carlossainz he's a child

danielricciardo too young to watch horror movies

landonorris THANK YOU

user3 i love how they came for lando's rescue 😂😂😂

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 715,026 others

yourusername gora pakora with his little spicy pakora

view all 291,008 comments

landonorris youre so beautiful

yourusername no you

landonorris i am

yourusername 😒

landonorris wtf is a gora pakora

user1 NO ONE TELL HIM

user2 youre a gora pakora lando

oscarpiastri yall are cute

yourusername lily and i are cuter tho

alexalbon youve already stolen my lily, why do you need another one

yourusername alexalbon im collecting all your girlfriends and then we're gonna ditch yall and live happily ever after

charlesleclerc alexandrasaintmleux stay away

alexandrasaintmleux no 😚

user3 PARENTS

user4 LANDO IN A KURTA LANDO IN A KURTA THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

user5 im dead he looks so beautiful

yourusername

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 853,017 others

yourusername poor guy's gonna lose all his money now that he's marrying me

view all 604,321 comments

landonorris can't wait to marry you

mclaren congratulations to the happy couple!

user6 shes such a gold digger

user1 no you dumbass. indian weddings have like, 13 different ceremonies to it

user2 my parents are getting married

user4 can't believe he's willingly giving away all of his money to her

carlossainz congratulation kids

danielricciardo they grow up so fast

maxverstappen1 i just read somewhere that there are 13 ceremonies???

yourusername yes there's going to be a meeting about it. i expect you to be there

maxverstappen1 im scared

yourusername you should be

oscarpiastri cant believe youre getting married!

user5 i love how y/n's gonna have a meeting to explain the wedding process to all of them

user1 indian weddings are no joke 😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 981,003 others

yourusername my radha was on the dance floor 🕺❤️

view all 704,692 comments

landonorris im so happy i married you i love you sm

yourusername i love you sm too

user1 WE NEED MORE DETAILS

carlossainz how did your wedding end up being more tiring than a triple header???

yourusername its the beauty of indian weddings

oscarpiastri i honestly feel like im still drunk

landonorris as you should be

mclaren NO AS YOU SHOULDNT BE

georgerussell beautiful beautiful wedding guys

yourusername carmen looked so pretty i wouldve married her instead

carmenmmundt YES

georgerussell NO

landonorris NO

danielricciardo all those dance practices paid off

yourusername you bet im gonna use the sangeet videos on your birthdays

charlesleclerc please dont we beg you

yourusername MWAHAHA

alexalbon landonorris your wife is being mean to us

yourusername he won't say anything he loves me

landonorris i do

maxfewtrell whipped

user2 I NEED TO SEE THIS VIDEO

user4 im so happy for them im gonna cry

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

this is my first smau! i'm still learning to do these, so I'm sorry if this was bad! the dupatta getting caught on lando's watch idea was a request by @justadesirebel and I'm so sorry it took me so much time to make this! but, anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this! also, the title "aakhon mein teri" translated means "in your eyes" and I chose that because the scene in the movie when the actress' dupatta gets caught in the actor's watch, that's the song playing in the background! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[blackwidownat2814]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 1408

Summary: You begin your new job as a Tornado Wrangler (remotely), and meet most of the team. It isn't until you suffer a little mishap that you meet the man himself.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to the Prologue!!! I didn't think it'd be that much of a hit, so I was surprised with all the love. After finishing this chapter, I feel like it could've been part of the Prologue, but oh well. It's been a while since I've written as well, so bear with me. As always, thanks to my awesome beta, @buckysdollforlife, for their help with this and for creating the header for this story (I LOVE IT!!!!) and bestie, @13braincellsonly, for allowing me the use of their son's name and personality when I needed to come up with a horse. **All descriptions of Ziggy the horse were approved by his momma.** And as always, I will be cross-posting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen.

City Girl Knows Her Stuff

You became a Wrangler near the end of the season that first year.  Kate picked you up at the airport with two members of the team: Lily and Dani.  Lily immediately pulled you into a hug, chatting a mile a minute about how excited she was to have you on the team.  Dani (perhaps picking up on your shyness) offered a handshake and big smile, welcoming you to Oklahoma.  Kate was more than happy to let Dani and Lily talk your ear off on the drive to Sapulpa, where you’d be staying with Cathy until you found a place.  She knew it was somewhat difficult for you to make friends, so she was happy to see you enjoying a conversation with two new friends.

You got to meet Dexter when he came by in the van to pick up Lily and Dani.  You thought he was funny and enjoyed some very science-centric conversations with him.  Before they all left, Lily let you take her drone for a spin.  You enjoyed it so much that for your birthday later that year, she gifted you a smaller drone that wasn’t quite like hers, but it had a small camera and small, tinny sounding speaker.  She even had it painted in your favorite color.  That would become one of your absolute favorite gifts.  It made you cry.

Like most storm chasers, you had to have a job in the off season, so you got a remote data analyst job with the NOAA offices in Norman and moved out to a place just out of Sapulpa.  This would allow you to visit Cathy at the farm and work on data in the barn workshop the Wranglers had set up.  You even got yourself a cat.  Abandoned due to his looks and runt status (according to the shelter), you snatched him up the first time you saw him.  Black cats didn’t scare you.  Life with Roach (you’d spent quite a bit of time watching The Witcher) was idyllic and you were happy.

By the time you met Boone, the Wranglers felt like family…and Boone felt like the brother you never had.  Like Boone, you were an only child and didn’t have much of an extended family and it was a bit lonely in the beginning.  The difference, however, was that Boone was an outgoing guy and it was easy for him to make friends and talk to people he didn’t know, whereas that scared you half to death most of the time.  You loved his boisterous way of being, but you also appreciated that he (like Dani) could tell when your social battery had run down and turned it down and would sometimes sit with you in a quiet environment.  Sometimes he’d sit and nap while you read or he’d pick up the latest meteorological article (or sometimes the latest comic he picked up at the shop).  He didn’t even make fun of your nickname like others had before, so you trusted him.

The day of Cathy’s pre-tornado season bbq, while cleaning some dishes, you confessed to Boone that you were nervous about meeting the head tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens.

“T’s a sweetheart B, you got nothin’ to worry about.  Why are ya nervous?”

“Boone!  He doesn’t know me, what if he doesn’t think I’m a right fit for the team?  What if he doesn’t like how I do work?  Y’all are famous ‘round here, what if he gets irked by the fact that big crowds make me nervous and it takes me forever to become comfortable with people?  You know it’s not easy for me to talk to people I’ve never talked to before”, you cried in exasperation.

“B, imma need you to take a breath, okay?” Boone reassured you as he placed his hands on your shoulders.  “If Ty thought any of those things, I would definitely not be workin’ with ‘em.”

You were so busy trying to get yourself to relax that you missed Kate wandering into the kitchen.

“B, are you freakin’ out about meetin’ Tyler again?” she asked.  You and Boone nodded.  “Well, you don’t have to worry.  He won’t be able to come today, said he had to drive down to Texas to see his parents.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, sending some of your hair floating up.  “Good, I have time to relax about it.  Thanks Kate.”

“Thank Tyler’s parents.”

“Thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Owens!” you said to no one in particular and dried your hands, as you looked over at your friends.  “See you two out there!”

Kate and Boone followed, but stayed on the porch, both taking twin sips from their beers.

“You think either of them has any idea what’s about to happen to ‘em?” Boone asked.

“Meaning that Tyler is going to become enamored the second she opens her mouth?”

“Yup.”

“And that she’s going to have the same thing happen to her the second she comes into contact with that cocky cowboy swagger that he exudes when you meet him the first time?”

“Yup.”

“No, I don’t think either of ‘em knows what’s coming.”

A few days before the chasing season began, you brought Roach down to Cathy’s, where he would be staying while you were out with the Wranglers for your first season on the road.  

While there, you asked Cathy if you could saddle up your favorite of her horses, Zig, nicknamed Ziggy.  He wasn’t the brightest of the bunch; he was the type of horse you’d see in a video because someone thought he was dead but in actuality, he was just sleeping.  You swore that his mother, a horse named KJ, rolled her horse eyes every time someone caught him playing dead.

Ziggy may not have been the sharpest pitchfork in the barn, and may not have enjoyed doing much of anything besides looking dead when he slept, but he enjoyed riding through fields with you.  He knew whenever he saw you approaching with a bowl that he was about to get one of his favorite snacks: ice cubes with apple bits in them.  You put Ziggy’s snack bucket down so he could munch while you brushed him and got him saddled and ready to go for a ride.

When Ziggy let you know that he was done with his snack, you popped in your earbuds and shuffled your favorite classical music playlist on Spotify.  You found it was one of your favorite ways to relax.  After you climbed on Ziggy’s back, and kicked him into gear, you took off for the open fields near the road leading up to the farm.

You’d been out there for a while when you started hearing the faint rumble of an engine, but ignored it because trucks passed near this area all the time.  You probably shouldn’t have ignored it though, because when that modified-to-withstand-tornadoes red Dodge Ram 3500 turned on to the road and took off towards the main house, Ziggy took off after it.  By now, you shouldn’t have been surprised that he recognized the truck or the person in it, but you were…and because you were so thrown off by it, your hands (stupidly) had not been holding the reins.  And because you had not held on, you went flying off Ziggy’s back while he just followed the familiar truck.  Lucky for you, the fall didn’t cause you to go unconscious, but it did knock the wind out of you after you landed hard on your back.

As you attempted to take deep breaths, you heard someone yelling and running towards you, so you tried to sit up.  The voice yelled for you to not move, so you listened and stayed on the ground, with your eyes shut.  You just lay there, waiting.

All of a sudden:

“Are you okay?” the voice asked.  You knew that you knew who the voice belonged to but you were so thrown by being thrown that your brain wasn’t focusing.  You blinked your eyes open, and your vision swam before focusing on the most beautiful face.

“Wha-”

“Are you okay, darlin’?” he asked as he helped you sit up.

“Uh…”

“Did you black out?”

“No.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Cathy’s farm, in Sapulpa.”

“Do you know your name?”  He smiled when you told him.  “Where’d you come in from?”

“New York City.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m the new data analyst for the Wranglers.”

“Well…looks like we got another city girl that knows her stuff.”

Tagging: @ladybirdbeetle7 @omgbrianab @itsdesiree86 @avengersfan25 @keyrani @thedonswife13 @lonelyghosts-stuff

DON'T FORGET TO LIKE AND REBLOG!!!!

Main Masterlist

[evilminji]

Oh god :Dc a Danny Summons Contract

No you guys DON'T UNDERSTAND-!

Just. Danny! Only Danny! He fucked up. Some ancient Warring States Ninja fucked up. They BOTH agreed to NEVER talk about it again.

Cause like? That ninja? Was a GROWN ASS MAN. A qualified BAMF of the highest order. He WAS the Danger, thank you very much. So, he? Will NEVER live down being saved by...well...

*holds up wildly struggling, noodle limbed, sad wet raccoon havin a terrible day lookin, meat thresher on legs*

THIS.

It's a BABY. Honestly, his Clan's TODDLERS know how to throw better punch. This scrawny infant baby child is both? His new son. AND an embarrassing trainwreck in motion. FFS kid, that's not how you- No! NO! Don't you DARE bite that opponent! You don't know where they've B-!

Kid they could have BEEN POISONED!!! Spit um OUT! DROP UM! Drop that RIGHT NOW! What are you? A dead Inuzuka? A god forsaken Hatake!? DROP IT!!!

It...sure is An Adventure™.

One of many early "here's how you DON'T make a Summoning contract" experiments, that Clans without seal masters were attempting. He's honestly lucky HIS attempt ended with him still... you know... ALIVE. Problem, though? After bunking for like... a few months? A year? In the command center?

And you know, terrorizing the GIW into complete collapse. Parenting him through some pretty serious life changes. Somehow making Sam MORE terrifying. And a whole host of off screen ninja shenanigans? They figure out? Oh. Only way to send him HOME is to either accept or refuse a Contract.

They gotta make one.

First they head to Frostbite for a recommendation, then? Off to a reputable Ghost Lawyer they go! They have to camp in the waiting room for like... a week. But? Worth it! The contract is AMAZING. And terrifying! Protects them both. Can't be used against EITHER. And that loophole you're thinking off? Ten pages worth of point 4 script, twenty three yards down, for why it's a BAD IDEA and breaks contract~!

Neither of them can make the other do SHIT! Only fully consensual, mutually beneficial, ass kicking here! If we FEEL LIKE IT!

Ninja dad insisted. Never sign a contract with anything less then extreme paranoia, kid! Leave no "implied" or "spirit of the rules"! Loopholes are holes in your armor, with which your enemy stabs you in the back!

Danny, tearfully, sends ninja dad home.

Gross. Emotions all over his armor. If only there wasn't all this sand in his eyes, he'd definitely complain about it. *stoic ninja hug*

Danny? Become a king. One of many. An Ancient. Becomes FUCKING HUUUUUUUUGE. Like? "Aw, your city is so pwecious~☆ n smol~♡! Whats it called again? New York?" Huge. A fuckin LEVIATHAN made of void, stars, and space ice. A Winter corpse, marked by lightning, that became the night sky itself. With a crown of aurora borealis, ever shifting, like flame.

Proportional, in a way, to Summon Bosses. Just as a normal human is to a normal toad, a normal cat, a normal slug. So too, is Danny LARGER then them.

You know... when he feels like it.

The contract? Passes down. Ninja dad does warn his kin. Prooooobably not gonna answer you. He only answers ME cause I'm, well, ME.

Fuckin BET. They declare. And lose. Repeatedly.

Time marches on. The Senju and Uchiha has their Drama. Dear KAMI do they Have Their Drama. Please Stop, says everyone. They... do not. The contract? Fuckin STOLEN. Because of course it is.

It's a HUGE, glowing, death radiating Summons Contract kept in a shrine behind like... SO MANY seals. It makes anyone less then a full grown JOUNIN physically SICK to even touch! Prolonged exposure kills people! Of COURSE it gets fuckin stolen. It's obviously a super, mega, ultra rare AMAZEBALLS Summon Contract... right?

Eeeeeeeeeeeh *so-so hand motion* KINDA!

It IS technically that.

They ain't wrong. Cause Danny IS an Adult now. A King. Connected to the Zone. An ANCIENT. Beyond and Above his mortal origins, even as, by being a Halfa, he is utterly the same. That contract is as close as one could GET to having a contract with the Sage himself.

You know... if he answered you.

Felt like your petty bullshit was worth getting up off the couch for.

Not to MENTION? He can make clones! Like.... billions of them now. Has a skeleton army. Is kinda one of the stronger Ancients. But that's not the point. The POINT? Clones. Don't have to be EQUAL facets of self.

You CAN make a .00001% clone of yourself!

Behold *summons poof noise* Lil Baby Man!

The harbinger of Danny! Here to Test Your VIBEZ™. He sends them each time. To be an adorable menace. Cause problems on purpose. Be gremlins, chew on table legs, maybe. You know, the works! They RADIATE his " I Am Death." Energy. But also his "winter, protection, and starlight" vibes... if you're brave enough to LOOK.

If you don't flinch away from a spirit of the dead. Can embrace the chaotic nature of a Zone ghost. Are kind to something that isn't what you expected, that you can USE, that appears weaker then you. Something that seems dumb. Distractable. Useless in battle.

Can you be kind? Do you immediately give up? To recognize a test when you see one? Is your first impulse cruelty? Distain? It tells Danny a lot. Saves him time.

Which? Is how a young Itachi, freshly Jounin'd, gets thrown through an old and rotting wooden gate into what LOOKS like a vaguely demonic death shrine. Hmmm, concerning. Baby 'tachi has been separated from his teammates. Is having a Bad Time™. The crows can't really help much here.

And, well, that IS a Summoning contract...

He's outnumbered. Low on both weapons and Chakra. Refuses to do anything BUT return home to his family. His baby brother. Is it WISE? No. It is in fact, incredibly, incredibly UNWISE. He has no idea what he'll be agreeing too. But... so long as he live just a bit longer...

He slams an earth wall against the entrance.

Falls back to the Glowing Contract.

Stumbles, as even landing near it makes his insides revolt. His skin prickle and burn. Colder then the nine tails Chakra, emptier, yet somehow endlessly more ABSOLUTE.

It's like the very Chakra in his body screams against it. Rejects it's mere presence. As though all thing alive REFUSE it with desperation and fear. He has no time to muse upon this. It hurt his hand to touch. He does so anyway. Struggling to hold the earthwall against enemy attacks.

He doesn't bother to read the contract. Flings it from the pedestal, to unravel, so he may sign quickly. There. With a practiced motion, he nicks his finger, and scrawls his future away. Whatever demons may come. Whatever monsters this brings. Please... let him live long enough to say goodbye.

The world CRACKS as he summons.

Death and the Shinigami are not the same.

Even those without the ability to sense are battered by the tsunami of... not killing intent. No. There is no intent. No killing. Just... knowing. Heraldry. That Death comes for us all. You can not escape. Foolish and small, is this what you waste your existence on? Ants before a god. Dust before the heavens. He... he can not... breathe...

Frozen. Eyes wide. Sharigan spinning, spinning, spinning. Capturing the delicate lace of nothingness, absence of life, as it drifts by. Unable to move from where he kneels, bloody hand pressed to the ground, in a Summoning.

What Has He Done?

Outside there is panic. Screaming. They flee. He... he wishes he could flee. W...why can't he-? *THHHWAP!* Mmmmph?! Something small and almost bird shaped smacks into his face like a flung ration. Tiny arms spread wide to cling to his bangs and dangle. The deathy power fades... almost... almost as though it were... a threat display?

He focuses on the tiny creature whining and hugging his face. It... is a floating snake toddler? Or is it dragon? They have sharp little claws and stars along their face, a tiny whispy mane of white. Likely a dragon child then. They stick their small tounge out slightly, eyes the blankly trusting stare of small children everywhere.

He clearly want to be carried. Ah. Of course, little one.

Did... did he agree to raise a dragon?

Just?

Itachi, smol. Serious. With lil baby man floped on his head or tucked lovingly in his arms. The TEXTBOOK definition of "he don't bite" "YES HE DO!!!" For everyone but Itachi and Sasuke. To whom he is, of course, an INNOCENT BABY who has NEVER done anything wrong EVER. An angel! Why is everyone being so MEAN to poor innocent baby man? Boo hoo~!

It fucks up SO MANY plans.

Because Itachi. A smol child. INSISTS he is a Father now. What are you going to do? Say he can be? Why? Because he's a CHILD? Which is it? Is he a Jounin or a Dependant? An adult in the eyes of the law or a child to be protected by said law from pushing him off to war? Old enough to die, old enough to parent his dragon son!

And SORRY Father, he CANT join Anbu. Who would be there for his child? Ah, he should join a parenting group. *various competent parent instincts go haywire over this tiny Uchiha child in need of parenting* Danzo? For some reason his son seems to really, REALLY hate him. Better avoid him. His child doesn't know yet not to bite respected elders.

Sasuke? Gets to be an UNCLE! To a DRAGON! He takes his job very seriously.

It's the best PR the clan has ever had.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[reiderwriter]

I have a hotch request and if you don’t write it I completely understand☺️

So you’re dating hotch for a couple months and you’ve only went over to his house like 5-6 times(so that’s how many times you’ve hung out with jack) anyway, you go to use the washroom or something before you leave to go home and jack asks his dad if you’re his gf and if you’ll be having a sleepover with them (as you’ve never actually stayed there before) and his heart becomes all warm n fluffy

A/N: Hi! I don't usually write for Hotch, but I decided to give it a crack because this fits pretty well for @imagining-in-the-margins KidFic challenge! It was a fun challenge to write, so thanks for the prompt! I changed it up slightly, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, step-family dynamics, etc.

10 months of casual dinners, midnight strolls, and stolen kisses, and you still weren't ready to accept that you were in love with your boss. 

Aaron Hotchner was a complicated man, and loving him wasn't as simple as your heart wanted it to be. You worked together but rejected any favouritism he may have shown you. You slept together, but you never stayed in his bed. You kissed him, but you never told him you loved him, even though you were sure you did. 

You just weren't sure you were ready to be a stepmother. 

As a child of divorce, you'd been graced with two step-parents growing up, and while neither were story book evil, they weren't exactly the most welcoming either. You'd bounced between your mother and father's houses, trailing duffle bags, afraid to take up too much space for fear of ruining your parents’ newfound and direly earned happiness. 

Jack had the misfortune of being both a child of divorce and having lost his mother entirely too young and entirely too suddenly. 

When you'd joined the BAU, off the back of Haley Hotchner’s death, Aaron had been a man in mourning, a man scarred by circumstance and regret. But he'd been brave, and he'd been loving, and he'd worked so hard to give his son a good life. 

Five years later, and it seemed obvious now that you had at least respected the man from the very beginning, if not pined for him quite openly. 

There was that final hurdle left to cross, though, and you weren't sure if you'd ever be ready to do so. 

A phone call startled you out of your worries as you sat on your couch, dissociating after a long and hard won case. The shrill ring startled you into action as you frantically searched for wherever it was this time that you left your phone. 

“Hello, yes, I'm here, hi,” you said, finally finding the phone abandoned under some couch pillows. 

“Y/N, it's Aaron.” 

“I know, Aaron. Caller ID, welcome to the 21st century,” You couldn't help smiling into the receiver, so smitten with the man your face was just doing whatever it liked. 

“Right. Look, I wouldn't usually overstep like this, but Jessica and I have to go upto Roy's retirement house, he's not dealing too well with the new environments, and all of Jack's regular babysitters are enjoying the spring weather. I'd ask his friends' moms for an impromptu playmate but-” 

“But you'd rather he be with someone you trust? Aaron, it's fine, I'll come over and watch Jack for a few hours.” 

He sighed into the receiver, and after a few more niceties, you ended the call, still grinning like an idiot. 

You were still grinning like an idiot when your earlier anxiety came back and hit you straight in the chest. You'd met Jack before, but you'd not so subtly avoided any kid based conversations and meet-ups for the last 10 months. 

You had no idea how to entertain a nine year old boy, but you decided quickly that you couldn't half ass it. 

The drive to Hotch's house was almost embarrassingly familiar to you now, having been there so often in the past few months. Jack enjoyed regular sleepovers with his aunt and schoolmates so you could enjoy regular sleepovers with his father, a fact that you had to remind yourself to keep private as you knocked on the door. 

“It's open,” Aaron called from inside, and you hesitantly opened the door and stepped in, bag of last-minute toy purchases stuffed under your arm. 

From the door, you could see Aaron in the kitchen, hands deep in soapy water as he washed lunch dishes and pots, sticking his head out to smile at you. 

“Aaron Hotchner, domestic goddess. Who’d have thought?” 

“I'd ask you to keep this to yourself at work.” 

“Of course,” you said, stepping a fraction closer to him. “Anything to keep the mystery alive.”

He leaned in for a quick kiss, and you reciprocated, letting it linger a second as you smiled into his touch. 

Drying his hands on a towel near him, Aaron called across the apartment for Jack. 

“What's up, Dad?” He asked, peeking out of his bedroom door. 

“This is Y/N. She works with me and Uncle Rossi. She's going to take care of you for a while while me and Aunt Jessica and I visit your Grandpa. Come say hi.”

Creeping out of his room slowly, Jack came to stand just in front of his father's legs as Aaron put his hands on his shoulders, proudly showing off his mini doppelganger. 

“Hi, I'm Jack.” 

“Nice to meet you Jack, my name is Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, and he shook it. You noticed how small his hands were, but how strong his grip was. He was confident, but he was still just a small kid, and you were even more motivated not to mess this up. 

“What's in your bag?” He asked, flicking his eyes down to it every few seconds, as if he was itching to stick his nose right into it. 

“Jack, manners, please.”

“It's okay, Hotch. I brought some toys. Your dad mentioned that Santa's gave you a Nintendo at Christmas, and I thought I'd show you a few of my favourite games.” 

His face lit up as he quickly stepped closer to you, hands on the bag as he waited for you to offer it up, now openly ogling the bags contents, knowing it was for him. 

“You didn't have to bring anything, Y/N.” 

“I wanted to make a good first impression.” 

After being dragged to the nearest sofa and sitting through a five minute walk through of all the house rules, urgency exits and remote locations, you were left alone with Jack Hotchner, remotes in hand ready to play Mario Kart. 

“Okay, now all that's left to do is choose the course you want to race on. Which one do you want to play on?” 

Jack had chosen to use Bowser as his character and chosen Toadette for you quite cutely, and you'd quickly finished cart selection, too.

“We should go through them in order, so we complete them all,” he said after a moment of deliberation. 

You giggled at how seriously he was taking it. And then the first race in the Mushroom Cup started, and you were seriously impressed by how quickly he'd picked up this game. Either kids were just better at video games in general, or you had a prodigy on your hands. 

His serious face was a carbon copy of Hotch when he was hunched over paperwork, and he gave you the same quietly disapproving frown every time your character momentarily overtook his. It was adorable seeing the two reflected in one another. 

By the shell cup, you were nearly exhausted, despite having spent the entire time glued to the couch. 

“What do you think about taking a snack break?” You asked, looking over Aaron Jack, who had turned himself upside down on the couch somewhere in the last three matches and was still beating you. 

“Okay. I'll show you where Dad hides the good snacks,” he said, quickly rolling off the couch as if his bones were liquid. 

You, on the other hand, cracked as you stood, the irony not lost on you as you hobbled your way to the kitchen. 

Opening the cupboard under the sink, Jack routed around for a few seconds before returning with a small box of Reeses Pieces, which you gradually accepted alongside a glass of apple juice. 

“You're a good kid, Jack,” you said, ruffling his hair as he playfully swatted your hand away. 

“Yeah, that's what my dad always says.”

“Your dad is a very smart man.”

He nodded and then went back to quietly eating his candy, somewhat lost in thought. 

You weren't sure if you were supposed to ask him what he was thinking about, or avoid the topic and dive straight back into video games, so you just ate your candy, too, standing together in the kitchen, Mario Kart music playing in the background. 

“Do you like my dad?” He suddenly asked, swallowing down one more bite of apple juice. You'd forgotten that kids were the bluntness people on the planet, not yet having learned the necessity of delicately creeping closer to the actual topic of discussions like adults. 

Jack had landed a sucker punch right to your guy, and you were suddenly choking on Reese's Pieces. 

“Umm,” you said, catching your breath again and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day on your face. “Yes, I respect your father a lot, Jack.” 

“But do you like him?” He said again, eyes wide and expectant as he looked up at you. 

“My dad can be a little scary sometimes. I heard some of my friends' moms saying so at Mitchell C's birthday party last week. They said he's scary, but he's so sad and lonely.” 

Your heart sank in your chest as you watched Jack worry about his dad, worry if Aaron Hotchner was lonely or sad. 

“Jack, your dad isn't lonely or sad. He has you, and Aunt Jessica, and-” 

“And you, right? Because you like my dad?” 

“R-Right. He has me, too.” 

“Great. Let's keep playing. The Banana Cup is next.”

As suddenly as it had started, your serious talk with Jack was over and he bounced his way back to the sofa, clicking go on the next race, as you ran to quickly take your place again, too. 

Five hours later, and you were being shaken softly awake, controller still in your hands as you blinked your eyes open. Somehow, it had gotten dark, and both you and Jack had simultaneously fallen asleep on the couch. 

Now Hotch hovered over you, carrying the sleeping boy in his arms as he woke you up. He mouthed ‘coffee?’ and you nodded quickly, sitting up further and grabbing the nearest remote to turn off the Nintendo. 

With Jack situated in bed quickly, you made your way to the kitchen. Aaron joined you after making sure Jack was still asleep, walking up behind you and wrapping two arms around your middle, leaning his head against your shoulder and exhaling. Despite the shiver down your spine, you leaned further into him, enjoying the feeling of him in your sleepy state. 

“How was it?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. You were almost sure that he was conducting this conversation from behind as a means of convincing himself not to read into your every movement and expression. 

“It was great. He's a great kid, you know?” 

“So I've been told.” 

“He's worried about you, too. He said the moms at his school think you're scary and lonely. Which in suburban house mom translates to romantic hero, though I don't think he realizes that.” 

You felt the grumble of a laugh behind you, the sound low and comforting as you let your eyes flutter closed again, content in his arms. 

“Jack…misses his mom. Rebecca is great, but he likes talking to the moms at school. Maybe a little too much, I don't know.” 

“You miss her, too.” It was a statement, not a fact. 

“I do,” he said sadly, holding you tighter. “Is that a problem?” 

“No. No, god no. Aaron, I-” your voice broke, and you hesitated slightly, clearing your voice. You squirmed in his grip until he released you enough to face him.

Doing so may have been a mistake, though, as you locked eyes with him and so desperately wanted to kiss him, to claim his mouth with yours, and let him lift you onto his kitchen counters. 

You squeezed your nails into the palm of your hands to ground yourself and took a steadying breath. 

Which was when Jack decided to make a reappearance. 

“Dad?” He said groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you had only moments earlier. 

You quickly broke apart as Aaron smiled disappointedly, almost as if he were expecting the interruption. 

“Hey, bud. Did you sleep well?” 

Jack nodded, tilting his head a little as though still disorientated. 

“Did I fall asleep on the couch?” 

“Sure did. Both of you, actually.” 

Jack looked at you then and smiled sweetly up at his dad. 

“So Miss Y/N is staying tonight?” He asked, suddenly a little excited and expectant. 

“Well, Miss Y/N has her own house, so we can't just expect her to-” 

“Yeah, I'm staying,” you blurted out, cutting off Hotch mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow at you, but you ignored him and smiled down at Jack. 

“And if you head back to bed now, I'll make some pancakes for you in the morning,” you whispered conspiratorially with the boy, who raced back to his room. 

Before shutting the door fully, he stopped by his dad and tugged him down to whisper level, saying something before yelling goodnight and taking himself back off to his room. 

“What? What was that?” You pouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Aaron. 

“You first,” he laughed back, leaning on the nearby counter. 

“I promised him pancakes in the morning. What did he say?” 

“Oh, nothing,” he said, pulling you closer to him again. “He just said you had an interesting conversation earlier.” 

“Was it the one where he asked me if Mario speaks English, Italian or Japanese, because I couldn't answer that question for sure.” 

“He said,” he leaned down to your ear to whisper the next words. “That you told him you like me. And he thinks you meant like-like.” 

You flushed hot and avoided eye contact. A childish part of you wanted to deny it, to scoff and run away, like you were on the playground and not in a dimly lit kitchen at midnight. But you couldn't.

“I do. But I'd probably say love and not like-like, seeing as though I'm not nine.” 

“I love you, too,” he whispered, noses touching as he descended to capture your lips once more. 

[venusandsaturnsrings]

Many thoughts of guard dog boothill... -chubby darling anon

MY SWEET!! thank u for sharing the boothill brain mwah mwah!! love u always U^ェ^U

there’s an issue, however… boothill doesn’t make a very good bodyguard, much less a guard dog. he has a habit of causing more trouble than he protects you from, something about his ego, which means that the second he gets even the slightest idea that someone’s looking at you a bit too long?? he’s lunging at them. all sharp teeth on display as he loads his gun with whatever bullets he can grab, inside or outside his body. even if the person was just looking past you, boothill sees it as a personal slight; they were obviously trying to rile him up!!

he’s not exactly the kind of guy i can imagine in a hybrid scenario, mainly because he’s such a mashup of parts already, but a being a dog would suit him… perhaps an australian shepherd… food for thought…

anyways, hiring him as your body guard?? a bad choice and also very bold of you to assume he’d agree!! he’s the travelling type, being a galaxy ranger, so consider this: forbidden lovers.

you were the esteemed child to an esteemed set of parents that expected no less than perfection of you. on one such interastral expedition, boothill happened to be on your planet for reasons he wouldn’t disclose but it all came down to an evening you shared. there was a reception of sorts for an upcoming book your family had endorsed, so you were expected to attended and, at your mothers word, perhaps look for a suitable partner. this particular breed of gathering wasn’t your speed, nor did you have any interest in scouting amongst the primarily geriatric body of people for a potential spouse. inevitably, you ended up tucked off on a balcony, some sort of fruity cocktail in hand as you idly played with the stir stick and waited out the party to its end. that was until a tall and out of breath gentleman stumbled onto the same balcony with a sharp whistle and sigh. it took a couple moments for him to notice you timidly staring, but when he did he jerked out a hand for you to shake and announcing himself as ‘boothill’ with a strangely charming accent. thus began a series of secret meetings and stolen kisses between giggles and the walls of places you’d never been; boothill was quite good at expanding your comfort zone.

eventually, your parents did find out and were livid that you’d been fooling around with a ‘no good wanted criminal,’ and demanded you see him one last time to have him turned in to the authorities. they didn’t realize just how slippery he could be or just how you had been waiting on the chance to finally leave so, you slipped out with all that you needed in the middle of the night to a grinning boothill. he promised to take you to even better bars and shooting ranges on much cooler planets so long as you stayed with him (you couldn’t possibly leave now).

[diejager]

Hey! I'm new here but what I've seen of your blog so far I've consumed appreciatively.

Could I please get an Alejandro Vargas x f!reader anything nsfw with a breeding schmink?? I know that man wants a soccer team.

Perhaps he'd seen the reader take care of a kid/s in his family and she's really good with them, she's always wanted her own so when something clicks with Alejandro, man is on a mission that doesn't take very much convincing on the readers part.

Thank you 🤍

Parenthood

Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

Cw: breeding kink, pregnancy, soft sex, creampie, service dom!Alejandro, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.4k (A/N): I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t really like it and it feels a bit rushed and just bad.

His heart nearly stopped when he turned around, the sight making him choke down a breath. He’d forgotten for a second that he was in public, gracing the cleaned streets of Las Almas, the cartel driven away by the joint force of Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros. Breath stolen away in a whisper of love and admiration, he watched you play with the children, small and precious, sitting on your haunches with the kids surrounding you in a crowd of loud chatting and adorable giggles. His knees felt weak when he caught your eyes, glancing his way with a smile gracing your lips, the warm and motherly gleam in your beautiful eyes and the way you held the small fingers of a child between your soft fingers.

“Oh, mi amor,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks flush brightly, chest filling up with warmth, a comforting and burning heat that pulsed through his body like a plague. 

He remembered that he wore the clothes of a civvy, he was but a man and a husband outside of the uniform, outside of the base, and outside of the battlefield. He moved slowly when you beckoned him towards you, hand leaving the child to wave him over, fingers curling and smile so enticing to kiss. He bowed to your whim, crouching beside you to greet the kids, smiling warmly and coaxing them forward with the promise of a piggyback ride. It made him wonder how energetic and joyous his house would be with children running around the place.

You fell back on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, your hair was a mess and your clothes ruffled, riding over your abdomen, the edge of your lacy bra peeking under your shirt. Alejandro was quick to undress you, pulling your shirt over your head and your shorts down your legs, he unclipped your bra and pulled your panties to your ankles. He sat up, admiring your nakedness, the smooth curves of your hips and the sheen of sweat coating your skin. He shrugged his clothes off, lips wrapping around your nipples once his shirt was off, teeth nipping at your collar and neck before trailing down your stomach to kiss your slick folds.

He shuddered at the taste of your pussy, tongue lapping at your clit, rolling the tip over your sensitive button. He drank up your moans as he drank up your slick, lips latching to your nub, sucking while his hands moved up your thighs, gripping the apex of it and dipping into you. With two fingers, he slipped them between your lips, teasing you while he still had the self-control to. He had to hold you down, despite your squirming and mewls being addicting, he needed you to stay still for him to make you come before he snapped.

“God, Ale-” you knocked your head back when you felt him push a finger in, pumping in and out, and curling upwards. 

He groaned, eyes rolling back at the wet squelch of his finger - fingers, now that he added another one to stretch you out - and curling them against your spongy wall, in search of your sweet g-spot. His cock rubbed against the tightness of his boxers, being confined to his pants while he serviced you in a way that any husband should with his precious wife if he wanted her happy, rutting against the bed. 

He drove in, panting as if he ran a marathon, out of breath from the excitement and control he exerted on himself. He wanted you to come first, to feel you fall over the edge, to watch your back arch and toes curl before he fucked his child into you, to fill you with his cum and love. He shifted his hand, digits pounding upwards in fast and erratic motions, rigid as he pushed on, listening to your yelp turning into whimpers and mewls mixing together as your toes curled, fingers gripping the bed sheets. 

“Come for me, mi amor,” he mumbled against your clit, his voice rumbling down to your core. “C’mon.”

He felt you jerk, your thighs closing around his head and your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulsing wildly with every loud mewls and moans. He helped you ride out your climax, pumping slowly while you panted, keeping his fingers relaxed until you calmed down. He pressed his lips to your navel, right over your womb, moving up with his little pecks, cheeky and loving. He could spend his days worshipping you with his lips, his hands and his cock, but you pulled him towards your lips, mouth moving feverishly against his, chasing the taste of your cunt on his tongue. He groaned, tongue meeting yours in a dance, rolling over yours and slipping between your teeth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the salty tang slipping onto your tongue. His eyes closed in the moments, lost in the softness and enrapture of your being, mind zoned into your hands wandering over his neck, short nails caressing down his chest, over the curves of his sculpted abdomen and to the waistband of his briefs. 

You pulled them down, slipping your fingers under the waistband and pushing them down his strong thighs and muscled ass, his hard and angry cock bobbing and slapping his happy trail. He kicked them off, as impatient as he was to undress you, throwing his boxers somewhere behind him. He grasped your hips, ready to lay you down on your back and kiss you away, but you pushed him back, forcing him to sit on his ass as you straddled him. He let out a soft moan, your wet and warm cunt grinding down on his leaky cock, his bulbous head nudging the hood of your clit. 

“Please, corazón.”

Hands planted on his shoulders and him supporting your weight by your hips, you sank, feeling his cock stretch you open. You shared a groan, Alejandro’s cock filling you inch by inch, swallowed by your pulsing walls. You moved slowly, hips bucking as you rode him, steadily taking him deeper with every roll, rocking down until he bottomed out, sitting flush on his lap, thighs wet and body sweaty. He kissed you reverently, holding you to his chest as you shifted, legs pushing you up and down, skin slapping together in echoing squelch, wet and filthy as the words he whispered in your ear. 

He voiced his wishes of wanting to become a father, of wanting to breed your fertile womb, of wanting to see your stomach swell with life. He’d drink the milk from your swollen tits, the sweet and warm dribble of milk that would leak from your overfilled breasts. He’d hold and caress your round stomach, watching it grow with the passing months and caring for your every whim. He promised you he’d make you a mother, to care for you during your pregnancy and to watch over your little bébé, holding them in his arms, kissing them with the gentle press of his lips, and letting them grab his finger. 

Alejandro promised you the world as he bucked upwards, fucking himself into you with a delirious mind and stuttering pace. You rocked down, thighs burning with exhaustion and cramping, working to ride up and down on his throbbing cock, the crossing veins rubbing against your back wall. Your cunt pulling him in, the knot in your core tightening with a strong pulse, coaxing him closer to his end. Alejandro looked as strained as you were, breathing heavily, chest puffing up with broken groans and skin gleaming with sweat. He chased his release, lips catching yours with an open-mouthed kiss, tongue swirling around yours, sharing warm breaths. 

“Alejandro-” you swore, “I love you- I- fuck… Te amo. Te amo, Ale.”

You felt his cock jump, a sudden and strong thrust, slamming his head to your cervix had you reeling, coil in your navel snapping. Moans rolled down your tongue, body shuddering strongly as your legs buckled under you, knees falling and depending on him to ride out your high. His name and I love yours slipped from you, egging Alejandro on with every confession, especially the ones in Spanish. It doesn’t take long for him to come, your release being the catalyst for his. Cum spurted from his slit, painting your walls with his potent load and filling your womb, hips stuttering until he stilled, sitting motionless on his lap.

You both gasped, breath laboured as you leaned into him, forehead touching one another. Your eyes searched his warm, brown ones, the swirl of love in them had you swooning for the man you married. You felt full and warm, loved and taken cared of, in Alejandro’s arms with your mouth locked, sharing a moment withouting needing to voice out your emotions. 

“Do you think it’ll take?” You mumbled, pressing your head under his chin.

He hummed, his throat rumbling from the low sound.

“We’ll try again if it doesn’t.”

Tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[itsabouttimex2]

you’ve dragged me into the LEGO monkey kid fandom

so I was wondering macaque with a healer kid? If that’s not too much

I’m very sorry but I love your writing

Little Healer Headcanons

Macaque and Ne Zha

(I always love hearing that I got someone into Monkie Kid- it’s one of the things that makes me happiest to read!)

You spend a lot of your time patching this guy up- by design. Since Macaque has an adorable little friend to mend his injuries, why should he temper his powers? The sable simian never bothers to hold back in the slightest.

Macaque goes out of his way to go overboard, knowing that his dear white mage will be there for him with a stave and a worried frown.

Unfortunately for him, it seems to be that you have a longer line of clients and customers than ever before- not that it’s really a surprise.

Someone was on the other side of all those fights he was winning, after all~

And he’s willing to leave a few more bruises if the crowd can’t part for him fast enough- after all, Macaque will always be first in line to receive your services.

And sure, maybe he’ll ignore your squawking and protesting when he forces you to shut down the itty-bitty clinic (probably just an unlicensed street stall) early to get in a good snuggle, “repaying the favor” by tossing you over his shoulder and heading home so he can coddle you like his own child.

He’ll force you to take breaks by jamming stolen handheld consoles into your hands, setting you up with slow turn-based games and decoration simulators to slowly lull you into a cozy sleep- all while resting your head in his lap, of course- he’s gotta get that fatherly skinship in.

Plies you with healthy snacks and fruit-infused water made to keep one’s energy and health up, ensuring that you’ll always be at the top of your game- but only for him, of course!

If you ever do come around to calling him “dad”, he’s going to be over the moon- in his own subtle way.

He’ll sneak into your room late at night, Rumble and Savage casing the perimeter, and… press a soft kiss to your forehead, snap a little tracker-embedded bracelet around your wrist…

And then drag you off the bed and take you home for good.

Oh, he loves you so, so much.

Assuming that you, as a healer, fall into the “white-hearted healing cutie” stereotype, then you are Ne Zha’s de-facto favorite person.

He finally has someone who stays out of trouble and does as told? He finally has someone who listens to his commands and acts when told to act? Someone loyal and sweet and obedient?

Perfect.

“As always,” he says frequently, one hand on your head, “I am proud of your efforts to serve our realm.”

“Thank you,” is your return, polite and curt. It earns you another head pat, though Ne Zha is always careful not to muss your hair.

“Very good. I’ll send in the next soldier.”

This is the life he’s built for you, safe and slow and useful.

And with him by your side the days drift and bleed, every moment of your time micromanaged and utilized.

It’s rare to get a break unless you work yourself to the point of sickness, at which point he’ll tuck you in with a mug of hot tea and a small basket of fruit on the bedside and “Maybe a bowl of those noodles from that mortal store you like, if you behave yourself, Y/N.”

He tries to be sweet and gentle, but Ne Zha still has a temper and is still very stressed out by the stunts of the Monkie Kids- it’s not impossible that he’ll snap and take his anger out on you.

And though this is pretty much the literal worst thing he’d ever do to you (aside from MAYBE a very mild flogging given the Celestial Realm practices that in the novel? It doesn’t fit with his character at all to any degree so I’m split. He seems more like a non-physical lecturer) it still hurts like hell to work so hard and be so good and still get punished for something that wasn’t even your fault.

And Ne Zha feels like trash afterwards but is too proud too apologize, and regardless is too worried that he’d lose his control over you if he treated you like an equal and outright said “sorry”, so he just takes a trip to the mortal realm and buys you something hot and fried.

He’ll wrap the grease-stained paper in a cloth sack to prevent any confused stares that might arise in the Celestial Realm, and book the horrid food down to your room.

Though the quality leaves quite a bit to be desired, and the healthy value makes him want to scream and slap the burger from your hands…

You’ve stopped sniffling.

And that’s enough for him

[cirtusmistress]

Hurricane

Authors Note: I wrote this about two years ago and posted it to AO3, and never cross-posted it to Tumblr. But given I want to get back into writing, I may as well start by posting what I got! So enjoy my first fic, two years late.

Ship ~ Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Tags ~ Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Reader is Competent, Storm prep, Brahms is Scared of Storms, Touch-Starved Brahms Heelshire, Reader Replaces Greta Evans, Minor Injuries, Doll Brahms Heelshire, One Shot, Gender-Neutral Pronouns

AO3 Crosspost

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A storm? Like, a thunderstorm? Or is it worse?” You asked. You’d been working for the Heelshire’s for around two months now. And though they’d left you with very detailed instructions on how to care for their beloved son, they had never brought up things such as house care. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying this long. Not into Autumn.

“A full on hurricane.” Malcolm answered, setting the last of the grocery bags down. He continued, “The worst one we’ve had in years apparently. They’re predicting outages and downed trees. I can help you secure the windows and doors if you’d like?” He offered. A sweet gesture. An olive branch of friendship. But you knew better than to take it.

During your short time at the Heelshire estate, and caring for Brahms, you’d learned a great many things. The most crucial being that whenever someone stayed around too long and stole your attention away from the doll you cared for, there was hell to pay. In one instance you found the dining room in complete disarray after simply inviting Malcolm in for tea, during a rare social moment for you. The worst case was when a friend of yours stopped by. They were a globetrotter, and seeing as you already had residence found it simpler to just stay with you. A mistake. One night was enough to send Brahms into the worst tantrum you’d ever seen. Multiple rooms destroyed, a window had been broken, and he had stolen your friend's passport. Your friendship didn’t last long after that. After all, who was to believe that a doll could cause so much harm?

“Thank you, Malcolm, but I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a few storms in my life, I’ll manage.” You replied. Malcolm studied you for a moment. Likely trying to read you, sniff out any signs of dishonesty. But, there were none. Just that warm smile that could melt anyone's heart. He gave a sigh of defeat and nodded.

“If you say so. Just give me a call if you need anything. I’ll come check on you when the hurricane passes.” With that he gave you a wave and headed back to his truck. You muttered a soft thanks, finally returning to your chores.

Brahms sat in the kitchen where he’d been waiting. Like he was listening to your conversation. You’d grown used to this odd job of yours. Caring for a doll as if it were human. Though you’d always figured there was more to this situation then most believed. You’d heard of people using dolls to cope with loss, the concept wasn’t lost on you. But for a couple well into their later years? And there were just.. Too many small things. Even in the rules. Playing music loud, reading in a loud clear voice, leaving food in the freezer. Food which you knew was going missing.

But the biggest tell was an accident. It had been about a month into the job. You’d actually begun to believe Brahms was a child's spirit trapped in the doll. What with him moving around on his own, and leaving you little offerings, and once saying your goddamn name when he was upset. But then, just by accident as you were putting Brahms to bed, you hit your foot against the wall. It had hurt so badly you thought you’d broken a toe. But what stood out in your mind even now was the sound the wall made. It didn’t make the thud you knew from stubbing your toe time and time again in youth. The wall sounded hollow. There had been an echo. Now you knew some older houses had hollow walls. Normally the cavities between the two layers were used for insulation. But that echo.. That wasn’t a normal hollow wall.

After that you’d started paying closer attention to the house and Brahms as you went about your day. Watching and listening. Countless nights where you’d lay in bed and just listen. You’d hear shuffling, the rare footstep like someone had stumbled. Once you swore you heard breathing. You noticed how many rooms had large paintings or cabinets, your size or larger. For a while you thought you were going mad. There was no way in hell that an elderly couple had been keeping their son in the walls for twenty years. But then you learned of the Heelshire’s deaths. Suicides. So many things pointing to something you didn’t quite know how to feel about. On one hand, you were now basically the sole guardian of a doll who was actually a stand-in for the hypothetical twenty-eight year old man in the walls. On the other, Brahms was now completely alone after twenty years of isolation. Alone, save for you. Sweet, kind, loving you who treated a porcelain doll like a real boy. Who read to him every night and tucked him in with a kiss. You couldn’t just leave him. No matter what Brahms was.

“We’re in for a storm, Brahms. I guess that means we’re having a slumber party downstairs tonight.” You cortled, putting the last of the groceries away. You took note of how little perishables Malcolm had dropped off. Thinking ahead. You wouldn’t be able to cook for however long the power was gone, if it did go that was.

You turned back to the doll, scooping him up and taking him with you. You figured the downstairs office would be the safest place. The windows were relatively small and were less likely to break. It would do for your purposes. You sat Brahms in the corner and got to work moving the desk out of the way. You’d have to lay down blankets and things to sleep on. You doubted the old fashioned Heelshire’s were going to have something like an air mattress.

You spent a good hour doing basic storm prep. Dragging some old blankets and comforters out of wardrobes and laying them down on the floor. Filling up buckets and the tubs with water. Getting crossword puzzles and cards. By the time that was all done, it had begun to rain outside. The calm before the storm you supposed. The last thing on your storm checklist was lanterns. This was an old house, you were certain that the Heelshire’s would have oil lamps somewhere. Naturally the first place you wanted to check was the attic.. But you knew better. After all, if your theory was right you didn’t want to scare the poor man by invading his space. So you settled on checking the cellar first.

Only issue was, you really couldn’t bring Brahms. You knew he was never meant to be alone but taking a fragile doll into a dark cellar was too risky. He’d have to stay upstairs. You were hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Brahms, I’m headed to the cellar. I’ll be quick, I promise.” You hummed. With that, you headed down alone. You had been right, it was dark and musty and damp. You started to wonder if there was mold down here. You flicked on the old dingy light which surprisingly still worked. You began digging through the clutter. Old things like furniture, clothes never worn since the sixties, even some art pieces. It was like a time capsule. You didn’t have time to walk through history though, you needed to find anything that could give light without the use of electricity. Lower and lower you went through the piles, until finally you found something. A pair of old oil lamps and a small can of oil to go with it. You muttered a soft thanks, pulling them out from beneath wicker chairs. But what was behind them gave you pause.

The bricks were singed. Dark burn marks that showed age. Your eyes followed the marks. The furniture in here had covered them, but now they were exposed after your rummaging. They flowed over the bricks going upwards. They almost looked beautiful. But that beauty hid a tragedy that plagued this home. You knew why they’d been hidden with so much clutter.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something crashed behind you, making you scream and jump. When you turned you saw one of the mirrored vanities stored away had been smashed. The mirror shards now littered the floor. And on the steps sat the Brahms doll, staring you down. It took you a moment to catch your breath, realizing your error. Brahms didn’t want you uncovering his painful memories. And he’d made sure you knew that. Gathering yourself, you pushed the lamps aside and began to put all that you’d moved back into its place. Covering those painful memories back up, letting them remain hidden and forgotten. Once finished you picked the lamps and the can up and approached Brahms. Kneeling to his height you gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Brahms,” you spoke with such a genuine tone of sincerity, “I shouldn’t have snooped around. But look! I found the lamps we’ll need!” You held up the lamps, jostling them a little so they clinked together. Of course the doll remained frozen. But just faintly, almost missable under the sound of rain pouring down, you heard panting. Like someone coming down from a rage.

“I’ll clean up the shards, then we’ll head back upstairs, okay?” You’d started speaking to Brahms out loud more after you’d learned about the walls. Feeding your own delusions some would say. You held your word, starting to pick up the larger shards and resting them on top of the vanity. The smaller ones you just brushed away with some loose fabric you found. You didn’t really plan on coming back down here anyways, not after that outburst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always found time moves slower when there was a storm. The day seemed to drag on as the storm became worse and worse. The wind had picked up and those raindrops just kept getting larger. It was loud, even on the bottom floor. You had settled on just simple sandwiches for dinner, making sure to put a ‘spare’ in the freezer. And after that you’d just settled in to do a crossword. It was.. Probably the first time in weeks where you felt safe. There was something about the dim lighting and blankets that just felt right. Secure. Warm. Brahms sat under the covers and you’d even given him a crossword book of his own. Slightly cruel, knowing he couldn’t move with you there with him. But at least you’d been talking to him. Funny, you always struggled talking with real people. But this doll turned you into a chatterbox. Maybe it was the simple fact no one was attempting to speak over you. Like someone was actually listening.

Your tranquility was disrupted by a large gust of wind, followed by a crash that made the manor shake. And what sounded like a scream. It had come from upstairs. Something inside you just knew. That crash was in the attic. You were running upstairs before you even had time to think. Up the stairs, and finding the attic ladder down. You were unsure if it had come undone itself or if someone had moved it. That didn’t matter as you climbed up. It was your first time in the attic but you didn’t get a chance to explore. A branch had flown off a tree and crashed through the wall, opening it up to the elements. You could only act, no time for clear thoughts. You grabbed a nearby blanket and started to desperately try to cover the hole, but another gale blew you back. There was nothing you could do to patch it right now, not unless you wanted to risk injury or worse, death.

Your rattled mind returned to the scream you had heard. Or at least you thought you had heard. Looking around you didn’t see a body but there was a bed up here. A tv, a sink.. Someone was living here. You didn’t have time to celebrate your theory being proven. Where was Brahms? Your eyes flitted around, finally landing back on the ladder. Somehow you had missed the very clear bloody handprint on it during your panic. But if Brahms was bleeding.. Oh God, how badly was he injured? Quickly you descended the steps, trying to find any sign of him. You were too panicked to even fear this man who was hiding from you for so long. All you knew somewhere in this house he was hurt and bleeding.

“Brahms?” You called, starting to check every room. Could he have climbed back into the walls? Fearing you discovering him? You checked everything on the top floor and worked down, calling his name in a more desperate tone with each exclamation. But finally you found him. Turning the corner back into the downstairs study. There he sat, in place of the doll. It wasn’t what you expected to see. The mask was shocking at first glance. You were momentarily stun locked. He was bigger than you anticipated, even sitting down. Finally you snapped out of it when he looked at you, and held out his bleeding hand. It had a sizable gash across the palm.

“It hurts,” He spoke in a child-like voice. The voice you’d heard months ago. His head drooped a touch as he spoke, “Can you fix it?” He asked. Finally, after another beat, you nodded. Your mouth felt dry. Too dry to speak. In the kitchen you found the first aid, and took it back with you. He hadn’t moved from his place on the makeshift bed. You knelt beside him, and carefully took his hand in yours. Up close you could see the burn scars that ran along his entire right side. Suddenly his outburst in the cellar made much more sense.. Carefully you applied some rubbing alcohol to the cut. That made Brahms whimper and pull his hand back. The look in his eyes behind that mask was murderous.

“I’m sorry, Brahms, but I have to.. To clean it.” You choke out. Your mouth is still far too dry. You hold your hand out for his again, giving him those warm eyes again. He would trust you wouldn’t he? After all, you had been the one to care for him all this time. He looked at your hand, then back to your face. For a moment Brahms almost seemed entranced by your eyes before conceding and resting his hand back in yours.

“Good boy..” You said, starting to clean the wound. He made a noise akin to that of a moan at your praise. You supposed you were the first person to touch him or give him praise in years. He was likely touch starved. Once the cut was clean, you grabbed the bandages and began to wrap his hand. He kept watching you. His breath was heavy behind that mask.

Finally you were done, and you let his hand go. Brahms examined your work, how carefully you’d wrapped him, and the cute little bow you’d tied it off with. As he studied his hand, you studied him. Despite the childish voice he put on, he was very much an adult. You could see his beard poking out from beneath the porcelain. He was actually rather handsome, you’d admit. The rain picked up again, and the lights began flickering. Brahms jumped and quickly moved closer to you. Before you knew it his head was hiding in your lap. Apparently he was afraid of the storm. Made sense, it had attacked him after all. Carefully you began to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“We’ll be okay. Just a little wind and rain, that’s all. Maybe we can play cards? Or I can tell you a story?” You offered. Just trying to find anything to distract him from the weather outside damaging his home. Slowly he nodded, not lifting his head from your waist. Actually his grip seemed to grow tighter. You could feel him inhaling a little too deeply, and his hands started to squeeze your thighs as he held tight. You felt bad thinking how unsurprised that made you. But he had lived in the walls for twenty years.. And you were likely the first person he’d had stick around.

You settled back on to the makeshift mattress, Brahms never letting you go. He shuffled up a bit, so his face was resting against your chest. You kept stroking his hair, picking your brain for a story to tell. Something romantic as you had a wild feeling that was right up his alley. You recounted the story of Pride and Prejudice, not skipping any details of the classic story. Brahms seemed all too enthralled by the tale. He even began to kick his feet in the air when you recounted the climax between Elizabeth and the beloved Mr.Darcy. Just before you could finish though, the lights finally gave out. Brahms tensed up against you and again hugged you tight against him. You let out a wheeze. You needed to get the lamps but he seemed content just smothering you until the lights came back themselves. Finally you managed to sit up as he continued to cling like a baby koala.

“Brahms, sweetheart, I need to light the lamps.” You manage to get out. But that seems to make his grip tighter. He shakes his head, face pulling your shirt back and forth.

“No. No lamps. I don’t want any fire in the house.” He whimpered. Your heart broke a little. That night seemed to have never left Brahms.. You stroked his back soothingly before trailing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“Brahms, we need light. It’ll be okay, I can work an oil lamp-” You were cut off as Brahms slammed you back down against the floor. Even with the cushioning it knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands fell from his face beside yourself as his own gripped your shoulders.

“No fire in the house. Never again.” His voice was no longer that high falsetto. Instead it was deep, aggressive. He sounded his age. You gasped for air, before nodding. Tears had pricked your eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt as you questioned whether or not he’d hurt you.

Finally you found your voice again, “Okay Brahms. No lamps, I promise. Do you want another story?” You asked in a feeble attempt to calm him back down. Lucky for you it seemed to work. Brahms grip on your shoulders loosened, and he returned his head to your chest. He nodded and urged you on to tell your story.

A shaky sigh escaped you. You thanked your lucky stars that you could calm him so easily. As you began telling another story, the rain and wind outside crashed into the manor. You knew Brahms would never harm you. Not you. Not his caretaker. But you began to wonder. How long would this storm last? Suddenly, in the dark, the room no longer felt secure.

[pinkthrone445]

-Wedding bells-

Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Gary x Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:love, hurt

Warnings:Mention of cheating , insults

Summary:I don't wanna spoil it because I think it's good the surprise reading this fic like this.

Wedding bells, a church full of guests, a custom-made suit that fit you luxuriously, a white rose in your handkerchief pocket, the custom made and engraved rings on your hand, sweaty hands and watery eyes as you looked at the wedding officiant. Your head was racing a thousand miles an hour, your heart was almost jumping out of your chest, and then, everything stopped when the doors opened and you saw the love of your life, Melissa Schemmenti in the most beautiful white dress in the world. Her red hair was in a ponytail with a few loose hairs that only highlighted her features, the soft and delicate veil on her crown delicately embraced her beautiful face, simple makeup highlighted her perfect green eyes that shone thanks to the natural light that came through the windows. Melissa was a perfect vision, a dream you didn't want to wake up from. When the music started and the redhead began walking down the aisle towards you, the world stopped and the other people ceased to exist, it was just you and her in this perfect moment.

-Five Years Earlier-

Your father had recently passed away, the house felt very big and empty without him, Sicily felt empty without him, you felt useless without him.

Your job exchange card and visa was approved and you could go to America to continue working as a teacher, hoping the change of scenery will help you get on with your life without your father. Gary, your father's best friend and fellow police officer promised to take care of you once your father was gone, and that's why he was loading your bags into the van that would take you two to the airport while you said goodbye to your home.

When you arrived to America, you immediately got an apartment and went to see the school where you had been assigned, it was a humble school but full of life, the teachers immediately received you with great affection grateful for the extra help, especially Melissa who would finally stop teaching two grades together thanks to the fact that you had arrived.

You thought it would be hard to adapt, but the redhead helped you a lot with the study plans and the students. Since you were Italian like her family, Mel felt an immediate connection with you, helping you in any way possible and taking care of you as if she had known you for years. And you, so in need of affection that you were in such a difficult time of your life, became attached to her immediately. From day one, the redhead took over your heart and you did nothing to stop it.

The more time you spent with Melissa, the more your feelings for her grew, long nights working on lesson plans together, long calls to clarify doubts, eating out together, inside jokes, tender nicknames, stolen glances, accidental touches, everything that happened with the redhead only made you fall more in love with her.

Your only "friend" out of school, Gary, was even tired of hearing you talk about Melissa, how much you loved her and how little you did to carry out your wishes.

Gary had known you since you were a child and saw that of the times you liked someone, you rarely did anything to be with that person, you were young, shy and stupid, to dare more and bet more on love.

After two years of living in that new country, Gary came to visit you very happy saying that he had gotten a new job as a vending machine stocker, it wasn't much like his police job, but it was a legal work and he was happy for it.

One day, you heard Melissa say that determined women were hot and that helped you gather the courage to finally tell her how you felt. After thinking a lot about how to say it, you gathered the strength to talk to the redhead, but your face of decisiveness turned into one of confusion, when, upon entering the teacher's room, you saw Gary talking and flirting with Melissa while he refilled the room's vending machine.

You silently approached Gary and he just smiled and then turned his attention back to the redhead. Almost immediately he got her to go on a date, ruining your plans to confess your love to her.

Gary knew you liked Melissa, he knew where you worked and Mel was the only redhead to mistake her for someone else, he knew you loved her and still decided to flirt with her and ask her out. When you confronted him about that, he just said that you were too young for her and that you didn't even know if she liked women, so he saw the opportunity and took it.

You tried to do something to sabotage that relationship, but thanks to everything you told him, he knew everything Melissa liked and used it to make her fall in love with him more. You thought the relationship wouldn't last long, but you were wrong, they dated for 3 years and she accepted him when he proposed. That's how you got here.

-Present-day -

When the music started and the redhead began walking down the aisle towards you, the world stopped and the other people ceased to exist, it was just you and her in this perfect moment. Melissa delicately climbed the steps and stood in front of the officiant, looking at you with a big smile, only that smile was not directed at you, but at Gary who was in front of her.

You were Gary's maid of honor, you assumed that was his strategy to keep you in check and not ruin his big day, but with how happy Melissa looked with him you didn't dare hurt her in any way.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at Melissa and then the rings on your hand, oh how you wished those rings would tie you to her instead of tying her with him.

Was this your fault? For being slow and not speaking sooner? For having doubted so much? For having spoken so highly of her to him? For not having courage? Could it have been different somehow? If you had confessed your feelings anyway, would you have been the one standing at that altar with her instead of just being a spectator? Could you be the one holding her hand as you promised to dedicate your life and being to her? It could have been you somehow?... Actually, it didn't matter, it was late, too late, you understood that nothing else mattered anymore when you heard the redhead say "yes, I do" to him. Gary turned to ask for the rings and you gave them to him with trembling hands and watery eyes, you must have looked pathetic. You decided to raise your head so as not to look so miserable, but it was a serious mistake, the eyes of your friend and the love of your life were on you, this time she was looking at you, Melissa was looking at you with concern but you only decided to force a smile to calm her down. In the red-haired woman's head a thousand questions went through her mind, why did you cry more than her husband? Why were you more excited than him? Weren't the hours she spent preparing enough to make him cry with happiness at the sight of her? Why, even though you smiled, didn't happiness reach your eyes? Were you sad that she was taking away the only person close to your family that you had left? It hurt her to think that you might be angry with her or sad because of her. Why was she more focused and worried about you than the man in front of her? But before she could ask any more self questions, she heard Gary say "I do" and it was her turn to snap back to reality to put the ring on him.

The officiant pronounced them husband and wife and the kiss sealed their marriage and finished breaking your heart.

Mel wanted to ask you what was wrong, but before she could, Gary was walking down the aisle pulling her hand to get in the limo and drive to the party. The redhead walked forward but her gaze was fixed on you and as you automatically applauded the happy couple but did not move from the place you were.

When you arrived at the ballroom, the tables were assigned, you were close to her but not close enough to be able to talk. When everyone arrived, it was time for the toast and they made you speak after Barbara, who had been the redhead's maid of honor, since you were his maid of honor.

Smiling falsely, you took your glass of champagne, which had already had to be refilled twice because you had drunk it before going up, you took the microphone and forced yourself to take your eyes off your feet to fix it on the happy couple.

So many things you wanted to say, and at the same time nothing was appropriate for the moment, your mouth opened and closed as you waited for something else to come to your mind. You felt Mel's gaze burn your skin, you couldn't dare to stare at her and you couldn't look at him either, you felt rejection for him, he had used everything you told him to keep her, to steal her from you. Well, stealing her was a strong word since Melissa didn't belong to you, and she would never do it because of your cowardice.

Someone cleared their throat and made you realize that maybe you hadn't said anything for a longer time than you thought

-"My heart fills with emotion when I see you two, the only person who accompanied me from my home along with the first person who made me feel at home when I arrived here. Melissa you became my best friend and my safe place when I arrived and I will never forget that, you have a special place in my heart and you always will have it whether you get married or leave to another planet. I could say so many things, but nothing could express what I truly feel right now. So I'll just say this, I wish you the greatest happiness in the world, may your lives be filled with love. And Gary? Take care of her, because if I found out you hurt her, I'll kill you"-You made the last comment in a funny tone and everyone laughed, but deep down in your heart you knew it was a promise you were going to keep if the time came. Everyone said their words and the final toast was made so that everyone could start enjoying the meal.

You barely touched your plate, much more focused on drinking what you could than eating something, you felt that if you tried to put anything else down your throat that wasn't liquid, you would vomit everything.

After lunch, the waltz began, Melissa was going to give the bouquet to Barbara, but since you knew that they would join the dance later, you told her to give it to you since you didn't want to dance tonight.

Mel and Gary started dancing in the middle of the floor, your eyes were glued to the redhead.

Why did she have to look so angelic and perfect, why did she have to look so happy with him? Why did they have to seem like the perfect couple with the perfect wedding when you were watching them from a corner with your life shattered, the furthest from perfect, closest to being a complete disaster. She looked so happy and you felt so broken. So far away from you and yet so close, she was there, If you stretched out your hands, maybe your fingertips could brush against her perfect, soft skin, only a few feet away, but she felt miles away from you. You had lost her, she had moved away from you to someone else's arms, and your heart had gone running behind her.

Your heart began to contract inside you, the more you looked at them, the worse you felt, the room began to spin and the music felt overwhelming, your suit almost choked you. Your breathing was ragged as if you were running out of oxygen, you wanted to rip off your suit, run away, tear your skin apart. Your eyes were burning and your face ached from faking a smile for so long. You would give everything for the world to stop so you could breathe for a second, what you would give to disappear and never be found...The things you would give, the things you'd do to be by her side dancing, to be the one who delicately holds her hand, to be the one who promised in vows to take care of her all her life, what you wouldn't give for her...You'd give everything for her, you'd give everything, and it still wouldn't be enough to change the painful present.

Carefully and without drawing too much attention to yourself, you walked through the crowd leaving the bouquet of flowers on the bride and groom's table and going outside to breathe. You just wanted to breathe and stop crying, at what point did you start crying? Out of the corner of your eye you saw some chairs in the furthest and most hidden part of the garden, without thinking twice, you went there and let your body collapse on the couch, with trembling hands you detached the jacket of your suit and a couple of buttons from your shirt, you needed air, space, you needed something that would give you peace of mind or at least help calm you down a little. Your trembling hands rested on your beating heart as tears streamed down your cheeks, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth as if you had taken bleach, and your jaw ached from clenching your teeth. You knew you had to control yourself, you were about to have a big panic attack and today wasn't the day for that to happen, it was Melissa's special day, it had to be perfect and you having an identity crisis would only ruin it. You were a maid of honor, you had to be there for them, for her, you had to smile for her, help her arrange her hair, hold her bouquet, be there when she needed you most... And instead you were hiding in the garden like a coward, giving more importance to your broken heart than to the woman you loved.

Your hands started hurting, why did they hurt? You lowered your gaze to your hands and realized that you were squeezing your hands so much, that your acrylic nails were digging into your palms and they were even bleeding a little from the pressure and the small cuts you had, you immediately opened your hands and tried to relax a little, you needed to get back inside before anyone noticed that you were gone. Who did you want to fool? No one would notice, Mel was focused on her husband, Gary would be happy if he noticed you disappeared, and the others were focused on the happy couple as it should be. It would be better if you stay there? Pretending that the present didn't exist and that it was all a bad dream? What if you left? No one would notice and no one would care.

You hid your face in your hands trying to think clearly, but you were frightened by feeling a hand on your shoulder, when you looked up, you saw a worried Barbara, who sat next to you

-"What's up, sweetheart? Mel asked me to look for you because she didn't see you well, I told her that it must be nothing, but now I see that she was right... Why are you crying so much?" - Concern could be heard in the older woman's voice, but her comment only made you let out a dry laugh as you listened to it. Melissa, on her big day, when she didn't have to worry about anything but enjoy herself, was worrying about you and why you weren't there.

-"I'm fine, I'll be back inside in a few minutes, I just needed to breathe a little... You need to come back, you're her maid of honor and they're about to throw the bouquet, you don't want to miss that..."-You said trying to get her to leave you alone, but it didn't work

-" First, I've been married for many years now, I don't need to catch the bouquet. Second, I'm her maid of honor and I have to do what she asks, and she asked me to be with you... So you'd better tell me how I can help you, because I won't leave here until you're better"-Barbara spoke and you smiled just looking at your hands sadly

-"I love her"-You confessed, you didn't know if it was because of the amount of alcohol you had drunk without eating anything else, but you needed to let go of what you felt to someone and Barbara was there

-"And she loves you, that's not going to change because she's married, you'll still be important in her life, you're her friend, she's not going to forget you" - The brunette tried to comfort you and you shook your head

-"You don't understand... I love her, I've loved her for years in a way I shouldn't, I love her so much it hurts, I love every part of her, every little thing that makes her Melissa Schemmenti, I love her strong character and how she is affectionate with the people she cares about. I love how she takes care of who she loves, how passionate she is, I love to see how she's always eating something all the time, I love the way she laughs when you two tell each other secrets. I love how she always smells like cinnamon, I love how she always needs to be in physical contact when she talks to you, I love the attention she gives you when you tell her something, I love when she insults and when she gets angry about stupid football games. I love watching her dance, laugh and sing. I love seeing how much she loves children and all she does for them. I love how she cooks. I love to see how competitive she is. I love her stupid and funny anecdotes. I love to see her accept her failures and use that to grow. I love her strength, as even though her heart has already been broken and she has been cheated on, she does not close herself to love. I love her Barbara, I really love her, I adore her and it hurts to see her with someone else... And it hurts me to know her so much that Gary used everything I told him about her to make her fall in love with him. Her favorite drink that he gave her every time? I told him she liked it. The vending machine full of chocolate? It was my idea. The Christmas gift of Mel's favorite team jersey, I told him about it. Fuck! He even asked me to help him write his vows and choose the rings, because he doesn't know her as well as I do! I LOVE HER AND IT FUCKING HURTS ME!"-You screamed and sighed, it felt good to say it even if it was too late. You were surprised to feel how Barbara hugged you tightly, a hug that you returned. Your body relaxed and the tension went away making you feel weak

-" Why didn't you tell her this?"-Barbara whispered and you sighed

-"Because she's perfect and I'm just me... A girl who will never be enough for woman like her, a cowardly girl who just watched as the love of her life was taken away from her and didn't have the strength to fight"-You whispered and as Barbara was about to answer, you heard a voice join the conversation

-"Hon, are you okay? I couldn't find you anywhere" - Melissa spoke and you quickly wiped away your tears preventing her from seeing you

-"I'm fine, I just felt overwhelmed with qll the music and the people, but I'm better now, Barbara already helped me... What are you doing here? You should be with your husband" - You asked as you adjusted your suit, the redhead looked at you unconvinced

-"I was really worried about you... I needed to see you and know that you're alright"-Mel answered and smiled a little as she saw how you took her arm to go back inside. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw how Barbara was following you two, smiling sadly when she saw how you put your mask back on when you were next to Melissa.

-"You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine, I'll be fine, you just worry about enjoying yourself, it's your big day my love, let's go dance"-You responded by smiling as best you could, even though inside you were falling apart.

[factual-fantasy]

29 asks! Thank you!! :)) 🐙

(Referencing this post)

They'd probably try to find some kind of orphanage to give the baby to. With Red as a family exception- the life of a pirate is no life for a child! :((

@glitchhayden418

I think this is a classic case of "two wrongs don't make a right" my friend <XDD

(Referencing this post)

That might work.. 😔 Thank you for the advice!

@sevenheven7011

I have heard of it! :0 Its a game I think..?

@kermit-ydafrog

I gotta write that down! XD

@depressoblueberryoflife

Not sure, and not surprised <XD 💀💔

@quillsinkwell

Oh hey!! Its those little critters from spirited away! I saw the movie a few weeks ago. I think they're adorable! :)) And I 100% see the resemblance to my sona XDD

(Referencing this post)

A Google doc sounds like it might be the best/only solution. Which is very unfortunate because I don't know how to make them, I don't want to learn how, and I just wish everything could stay on Tumblr.. 😔

Thank you for the advice though, much appreciated! :)

Exactly, all this and more I imagine.😔Trying so hard to be calm and stoic but its just eating him up inside that he doesn't know where his baby brother is. Blaming himself, beating himself up for it.. the works..

I have now! XDD

@nerdy-aroace (Referencing this post)

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY SLIME RANCHER AU STUFF!! :DDD

@ody-and-fanatu

:DDD Thank you!! I'm glad you like my Mario stuff! :))

There would be some plot holes if I wanted Grim to dynamax <XD though I had a comic draft where he mega evolved.. :00

@imaplantyay

Uhg. More stolen artwork..

Also that comic was never finished, nor do i I intend to ever finish it..

@wolfie-777

Something tells me that Luna would win because she has guns <XDD

Though if we don't include guns, mayyybe still Luna.? She has the intelligence of a person but the body of a werewolf. Maybe she'd win..? :0

@collisionofthestars-newblog

XDD Now I cant stop thinking about it!

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

Probably Seafoam, Octo, Spidercrab and Louis.

Seafoam because she loves him, Spidercrab because he's a medic, Louis to lighten the mood, and Octo because he'd actually know how to survive on an island XDD

Permission granted! :DD

@importantnightwerewolf

🥰Thank you!! :))

Thank you so much! :DD And I think adopting small headcanons like that here and there is alright :)) Thank you for asking! :}}}

@artistiemi

<XD No idea, I cant even remember when I changed it. Welcome back though! :))

(Link in post)

Ohh! I see, that was just the skeleton version of saying "your forehead is hot!" when someone has a fever <XD

@caronaro-flipaclip

🥺🥺🥺

Thank you..... I put a lot of effort and heart into them.. 🥺💞💞

They would FREAK OUT if they saw that <XDD Horrifying!

I'm still into FNAF SB! :00 And honestly I find that ending a little silly <XDD

(Referencing this post (?))

Ingo and Emmet are twin brothers :00 naturally their relationship is 100% platonic and brotherly 👍👍

I have not, but I've heard really good things about it! :000

[cyborg-franky]

I read that you don’t do stories with kids. But I was just wondering if you do one if they were just turned into a child. Like Toshi Toshi no Mi has the power to alter the ages of people. Example “Like if WB or Marco was turned into a child but they were still adults on the inside and how the crew would react.” It’s fine if it’s a no I just wanted to ask. Thank you.

Oooh these are fun. I can have a good time with these : D

Marco

He’d been around longer than most of the crew so seeing a tiny little pineapple with fluffy hair and wide-open eyes caused many different reactions.

Ace can’t stop laughing at how silly he looks and how high-pitched his yoi’s come out. His clothes are so big and baggy on him like he’d stolen from a much bigger person.

Thatch can’t stop laughing either and just calls him little guy and baby bird alot which causes Marco to huff and stomp around the deck irritated.

Pop’s thinks it’s cute, he remembers when Marco was a young boy. Izou met Marco when they were both young so it doesn’t really phase him.

Everyone is either shocked or highly amused at him.

However, Marco is still the ships doctor and must carry on his duties until the effects wear off.

It’s surreal seeing Marco needing a pile of cushions to sit at his desk. It’s an incredibly bizarre scenario to have to talk to someone who looks like a child about medical issues.

Marco doesn’t like being in this form and his normally cool and calm attitude is challenged with some of the crews reactions.

The nurses adore him though.

Kid

Well, his arms back at least? Everyone just stares at this small spikey-haired kid whos screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs, already pissed off that everyone is gawking at him.

“What are you fuckin’ idiots lookin’ at?” He snaps, stamping his feet on the deck, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes. It looks so silly seeing his enraged brat in an oversized coat as he starts to throw punches at the legs of his crew.

Killer feels his small fists against his leg, sighs, and just picks him up. Letting Kid get a piggyback ride because he likes to be up high. 

Kid is furious about the change and even uses his skills with metalwork to make himself big shoes to walk in, hating feeling so emasculated. 

He’s still loud as all hell and his crew is smart enough to hide laughter and amusement behind their hands.

“If any of you tell that shitty doctor or straw hat about this, it’ll be the last thing you do,” though it was hard to take a threat from a 6-year-old very seriously.

Zoro

He couldn’t give a fuck if he was turned into a kid, he knew it would wear off in time so he just shrugged his shoulders. 

Until Sanji said something, going for the kill [and by kill I mean he smacks at Sanji’s ankles or bites his legs] 

Everyone either sighed, laughing, or just stood in pure bewilderment at Sanji screaming and shaking his leg as hard as he could while a small Zoro held onto his leg by his teeth for dear life.

Nami is the second biggest problem to Zoro’s current predicament though. Every time he tries to drink booze she slaps it off the table or out of his hand [typical orange cat behavior] and starts to wave her finger in his face telling him he’s too young to drink.

Luffy tries to play with Zoro like he’s actually a kid, swinging him around and yelling happily.

Buggy

Ever seen a grown man have a total breakdown? I mean, if you know Buggy that’s probably daily.

He’s small and he’s flapping his arms and screaming but everyone is just crouched down and looking at their beloved captain in complete awe. He’s so adorable, everyone who tries to pick him up either gets a foot or a fist square in their face as he hisses and curses.

Galdino and Alvida sigh, they look like single moms who just got back from the school run as they drag Buggy away from everyone. They already felt like a babysitter and they didn't need it to be literally.

All his crew are completely besotted with how adorable their captain looks as a kid. Buggy half loves the attention and half wishes everyone would take a long walk off a short plank. 

It’s not like people take him super seriously anyway but he didn’t need to have people trying to pinch his cheeks.

If Shanks finds out about this Buggy will never hear the end of it. Maybe Alvida snuck a few photos for some blackmail at a later date when Buggy was being his unreasonable self.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Two)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warning: Incest (at this stage implied), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Mild Smut

Words: 4,878

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE! 

QUESTION: WHO IS TOMMY TO THE READER? WHOOPS!

The following morning…

The following morning, you woke up at 4 o’clock after hearing a loud bang, followed right by another. Your neighbour was clearly beating on his wife again and you wondered when she would finally leave him and this awful marriage of hers behind.

She reminded you of your mother. Your very own mother who, for almost eighteen years, had failed to protect you and protect herself from the monster who was your stepfather.

He was the cause of your pain and suffering, hurting you and abusing you, physically and mentally, until you ran away. But still, you were one of the lucky ones having been spared the sexual abuse and assault on your womanhood. He tried, but never quite got there. Thank God.

God? What God? Was there something like a God? You decided, probably not and then there it was again, the darkness which consumed you. You had no faith and the quiet sobs at night time that no one knew about came on creeping in. The urges that overwhelmed you started to haunt you once more and the intrusive thoughts and the fear of physical contact became a stark reminder of what you have been through.

You hated every god damn moment of this but, at least today, you had something to look forward to. There was someone who was giving you a chance, an opportunity and legal employment. Although, really, the legality of this man’s businesses was questionable and you knew that. But you did not care.

He was the kind of man your mother had warned you about and yet, there was something which intrigued you about him.  His demure, his attitude and his intelligence stood out to you and so did his god damn blue eyes.

Thus, with some reluctance, you eventually rolled out of bed and turned on the light. You looked down on yourself, still wearing your nightgown and, for the first time in a very long time, you saw a woman who was willing to change. It was not just about surviving anymore. It was about gaining something. Something important and real, whatever that may be.

A week ago, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, all you could see were your scars. Even now, having tattooed over some of them, the scars were still visible and you knew that they would always be.

But, this may not necessarily be a bad thing as the scars no longer defined who you are but, rather, were the remainder of times during which you were in an enormous amount of emotional pain.  

On your wrist, you featured a tattoo with the words “this story isn’t over” and, whilst in today’s society, pre 1930, tattoos were frowned upon if worn by women, on the days when shame overwhelmed you, and when you felt like you could no longer go on, you looked at your tattoo and reminded yourself that your story certainly was not over yet. In fact, it had only just begun as, clearly, today was going to be the day your life would change and you felt strongly about it. You had a feeling that, today, something great would happen to you and, with that in mind, you put on a dress which, too, was stolen, and a pair of heels which were just a little too high for you to walk in. You even wore a hat which, again, you misappropriated from a small shop downtown and tugged your hair back into a neat bun with some pearl clips.

For your first day at work, you wanted to look professional even though you had no experience in administerial work whatsoever and did not quite understand what your role at Shelby Company Limited would entail.

Later at the Small Heath Gambling Den…

“That’s her, surely” Lizzie spat as Linda and her watched you walk through the door of the gambling den which, to you, was hard to find. You heard them talk about you and were nervous like a young girl on her first day of school. This was your first proper job and you were excited about it.

“You must be Y/N, Thomas’s new secretary” Lizzie then said before assessing you from top to bottom. The fact that she used his first name to refer to him surprised you but when she told you that she was about to be laid up, the situation became much more obvious to you. She was carrying his child, but he clearly did not love her enough to marry her. Typical.

“I am Y/N, but did you just say that I will be the new secretary?” you asked with great surprise while a cold shiver ran down your spine. You could neither read nor write, so how on earth would you be able to fulfill this role you wondered?

“Yes, you will be a secretary to Thomas Shelby who, I may add, is very demanding in many ways” Lizzie exclaimed in response to your question.

“No doubt he is” you simply responded while glancing at her growing bump with a little jealousy perhaps, seeing that you took at least a mild interest in your new employer.

“I assume you have experience and this is why he hired you?” was the next question Lizzie asked you and she now spoke to you in an almost snobbish way, looking down on you which, of course, was not too difficult. She was much taller than you after all and absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

“Actually, no, I do not! I have no experience in this line of work. I only met Mr Shelby last night and he offered me a job. I didn’t even know what the job would entail but, stupidly enough, I accepted anyway as I need the money” you explained with honesty and this surprised Lizzie who, clearly, was expecting some competition at the den.

“Where did you meet?” another woman then asked before shaking your hand and introducing herself as Polly Gray. She was clearly of authority around here and took a good look at you as well.

The way she looked at you however was different to the way Lizzie looked at you. Lizzie’s looks were filled with anger, fear and concern as well as some jealousy, whereas Polly’s looks were filled with questions about your identity. She saw a familiarity inside of you which she could not explain.

“Have we met before? You seem familiar” she observed but you shook your head.

“Not that I know off” you told her but Polly’s intuition told her to keep an eye on you and figure out to whom you belonged. She felt a connection towards you and this was not necessarily a good thing.

“Very well, so tell me again, where did you and Tommy meet last night?” she then asked and you swallowed harshly.

“At Madam Juans” you then admitted, causing Polly to roll her eyes and laugh while Lizzie stormed off and took a seat behind her desk which, apparently, would become your desk soon.

“Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me” Polly chuckled while giving you a sorry pat on the back and you were quick to shake your head in order to correct her.

“Oh no. You misunderstand. We did not have intimate relations” you blurted out quickly without admitting that, in fact, you had never even been kissed before. Intimacy was alien to you and you were afraid of being hurt by a man in any physical kind of way after your stepfather had beaten the living hell out of you for years.

“You did not have sex?” Lizzie asked, confused. “But you are a whore?” she then queried and you shook your head.

“No. I am not. I am waitress there. That is all” you explained while Polly chuckled again.

“Interesting, but unfortunately, I must go now. I have several meetings to attend to Lizzie will show you the robes around here and, no doubt, Thomas will be in his office sometime today, or not. You never know with him” Polly said before making an elegant exit from the den while pondering on about your identity and Tommy’s urge to employ you without consulting with her first.

Several hours later…

Several more hours had passed and you were shown how to take calls and take notes which, luckily for you, Lizzie still had control over.

You had not yet admitted to her that you could neither read nor write and you knew that, as soon as she would find out, all hell would break loose.

Since you started at nine o’clock that morning, Tommy too had arrived in his office but, without even greeting you or Lizzie, he closed the door behind him and you had not heard from him since.

Lizzie informed you that, on occasion, he likes to keep to himself and, clearly, today was one of those occasions.

“Can you type?” she eventually asked and you shook your head before, finally, she saw you to her desk.

“Of course you can’t. That is not why he hired you” she then murmured under her breath and you queried what she had meant by that.

“Pardon?” you began to say and Lizzie sighed while setting up the typewriter for you.

“Never mind. I will have to fucking show you how to type then, don’t I?” she spat and then began dictating a letter to you which, clearly, you failed to transcribe properly.

“You can’t write” she then observed angrily and you nervously shook your head. You were embarrassed and nervous about loosing this job, the money for which you needed so desperately.

“Well, then me teaching you is absolutely pointless” Lizzie then said before storming off and into Tommy’s office without even bothering to knock first.

***

Several minutes later, and after some shouting and yelling from behind closed doors, you saw Lizzie again but she did not speak with you. She simply reached for her coat and bag, before storming off and leaving the den a little less graciously than Polly Gray did earlier that day. Clearly, she was angered by the fact that you were working here and you well and truly hoped that Tommy would not fire you over this.

But then again, who were you kidding, right? You could neither read nor write, so what would he do with you? Put you up in a factory, perhaps?

And then, there it was…the moment you feared…

“Y/N, a word please” Tommy said to you while poking his head through the door and you immediately jumped up from your seat and stumbled towards his office.

The height of your new heels certainly did not help with your trembling legs and, as you were fidgeting nervously when entering his office, you tripped and almost twisted your ankle.

‘I am sorry Mr Shelby’ you huffed out with embarrassment as you watched him watching you stumbling into the side of the bookshelf.

It was obvious to you that he tried hard not to laugh about what had just happened, but a small chuckle escaped him nonetheless.

‘Love, please take them off before you hurt yourself, eh’ Tommy said with a half-smile but it was when he looked at you directly that you felt your hands inevitably began to shake slightly. You weren’t that intimidated by him when you saw him at the brothel last night and you wondered yourself what had changed since then, within a span of twenty hours. He was your employer now, sure, but was that it? Or was there something more to it? Maybe it was the fact that he was about to fire you which made you nervous or maybe it was him, his eyes and his intoxicating scent.

Even though Tommy was slightly amused by your little accident, his eyes were both your favourite and least favourite feature about him. You noticed them last night too, so intimidating and yet soothing all at the same time. They were deep blue, and absolutely piercing when he made direct eye contact. It gave you a strange sense of fear, and you now found yourself looking down when you spoke to him, afraid that, if you made direct eye contact, you might lose your train of thought.

‘Have a seat next to me’ Tommy then instructed after you took off your shoes and approached his desk, tippy toeing across the very cold wooden floor.

He then glanced at your shoes again and smirked. “You stole them, didn’t you?” he asked and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. I did” you said, chuckling nervously.

“Well, perhaps next time, you should steal some shoes you can actually walk in Love” Tommy said with a great sense of amusement before asking you a very important question.

“Do you know what I do for a living?” he wanted to know and you shook your head.

“I have heard stories, but I don’t believe them to be true. I know that you own factories and gambling dens, but that is all” you said shyly, causing Tommy to cock his eyebrows.

“Tell me honestly Love, do you not believe them to be true or do you not want them to be true. Because, the way I see it, there is a distinct difference between those two scenarios” Tommy then said before pulling a chair to his side and gesturing for you to sit down.

“Okay. I know that some of what you do is probably illegal, but I do not care. I just want this job” you told Tommy who smirked before giving you a slight nod.

“You want the job, eh?” Tommy asked with a smirk on his face before handing you his pen. “Then write down the names of every mistress taking pay offs from my customers at Madam Juans” Tommy then said and you immediately had to grasp for air.

“I can’t” you said, fidgeting again before realising quickly how terribly embarrassing you must have looked in front of this man right now. This was not the look you were aiming for.

‘Do I intimidate you Love? Is that why you cannot write down the names?’ Tommy then asked bluntly, looking at you with a slight smirk on his face again as you continued to fidget even more nervously now.

‘No Mr Shelby’ you said nervously, causing him to chuckle.  

‘No?’ he then asked with a smug smile and you immediately looked away from him. This was too much for you and, if he had not asked you another question right away, drilling you for an answer, you would have stood up and left.

‘Look at me and tell me the truth Y/N. Do I intimidate you?’ Tommy asked again and you complied with his request and told him the truth.

‘Yes, you intimidate me. But that is not the reason I cannot write down the names’ you said shyly while looking into his piercing blue eyes.

‘You can’t write or read, can you?’ Tommy then said almost gently and it was clear to you that he already knew. Lizzie must have told him and he was simply teasing you now, playing a game of some sort.  

“No, I can’t write and I can’t read” you admitted reluctantly and it was at this point that Tommy lid himself a cigarette and leaned back into his chair.

“In that case, you are fired as a secretary” he smirked, causing you to gasp for air again. You were devastated, needing this job and the money he had offered you.

“I understand” you said nonetheless and Tommy smiled.

“But, I have another job for you Love” he then said, taking you by surprise. “Just because you did not learn how to write or read doesn’t mean that you are not smart and smart people is what I need right now as my export business is expanding” he then said before asking you to pour him and yourself a glass of whiskey.

‘You think that I am smart, do you?” you asked, causing Tommy to chuckle once more.

“I know that you are smart. You stole from my patrons and you got away with it for several months. You just couldn’t fool me, eh” Tommy observed before making another sly remark. “In fact, no one can fool me” he determined and you broke out in a giggle.

“Really? No one?” you asked as you stood up and walked over towards the desk on which the whiskey bottles were standing and, just as you walked there, you could feel Tommy’s eyes on you, watching you as you walked across his office barefooted.

“No, no one I have met so far” Tommy said while taking in your natural beauty and the scent you left behind.

“You are very full of yourself” you then said as you took hold of a whiskey bottle and poured two glasses from it before walking back with them to where Tommy was sitting.

“And you do not believe in yourself or your abilities Love. We need to change that” Tommy then said as you sat back down and handed him a glass while taking the other for yourself.

***

Just as you were sipping on your whiskey while talking with Tommy about the mistresses at Madam Juan and the job he had for you, you began to relax a little. Your mind was clearly eased by the effects of the alcohol you consumed and you began to realise why Lizzie took a liking in this man.

He was incredibly attractive but also charming in his very own and somewhat brutal way. Then there was his voice, low and gruffy, making it difficult for you to concentrate. He was burdened with intellect and, for some reason, he spoke to you as if you were his kin.

You drank and spoke for hours. You talked about your life which Tommy seemed to be interested in. He asked you about your family ties, doing his research on your background before revealing more of his businesses to you.

You told him about your mother but purposely omitted reference to your father.

“What about your father?” he thus asked and you sighed deeply.

“I never knew my father. My mother always said that he was a dangerous man so she kept me away from him. All I know is that he went to France with his two younger brothers and never came back” you said, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows. This, he did not know about you but, before he could question you about your biological father again, you explained to him that you grew up with your mother and your stepfather who you considered to be an evil man.

“Did he do this to you?” Tommy then asked while trying to get hold of one of your wrists but you pulled away abruptly in fear.

“Please don’t” you said and Tommy was quick to apologise. Your wrists were clearly off limit and he respected that.  

“I am sorry Love. I did not intend to hurt you” he was then quick to say after seeing your reaction. You had almost dropped your glass to the floor and started fidgeting again.

“It’s fine…and no, I did this to myself” you told him, which is when he recalled that, at the brothel, you too were afraid of his touch and he knew that there must have been a reason for this. There was something that bothered you. You clearly did not like to be held or restrained and he wondered what it was that made you so fearful.

In addition to that, Tommy remembered that, at the brothel, you were wearing long satin gloves, seemingly in an attempt to hide your scars, of which he got a closer look now. Your arms were covered in them and, once again, you tried to cover them up with your jacket.

“Let’s talk about something else, eh” Tommy eventually suggested after you began to feel rather vulnerable around him and, with that, you nodded before simply listening to Tommy’s ideas about how to improve his businesses and how he thought you could help him with that. This conversation took at least another hour and you were in a cheerful mood again. You were laughing and, much to his very own surprise, Tommy did the same. He laughed, genuinely, for the first time in two years.

As you were talking about business, you stammered out some ideas as well, easing into the conversation as you scribbled down a point in your notebook that you were sure would make no sense to your later.

“So you can write” Tommy then observed sarcastically and you shook your head.

“Barely and not without spelling mistakes” you chuckled just before Tommy asked you to pour the two of you some more whiskey.

‘Yes, of course Mr Shelby’ you said, looking at your watch before walking back over towards the sideboard and pouring Tommy and yourself another glass of Irish single malt.

‘Please, just call me Tommy, eh’ he said as you handed him back his glass, causing you to smile.

‘Okay, Tommy, but if this is your way of making an advance towards me, then I must disappoint you…” you teased and, whilst this was meant to come across as a joke, Tommy did not see it that way and cut you off.

“Love, if I was to make an advance towards you, then I would not be doing it through words” Tommy chuckled before moving on. “I would be doing this instead…” he then said before, ever so gently, caressing your face and then, in a careful but calculated move, pressing his soft lips against yours in order to see how you would react.

You immediately froze but allowed the kiss to happen nonetheless. It was your very first kiss and it happened so suddenly; with a man you barely knew but who, for whatever reason, you trusted enough to take this further.

You just had a feeling about him. It was a feeling of comfort and safety and you knew that, provided that his hands remained where they were now, namely caressing your cheeks, you would be able to tolerate his touch, and perhaps even enjoy it.

When he kissed you passionately, you could sense that he was taking it slowly. As such, the kiss was reluctant at first and you could taste the remnants of smoke and whiskey on his lips.

 His lips were so surprisingly soft and smooth against your own and, as Tommy moved them sensually, a warmth flooded your body, causing you to feel desired for the time in your life.

 There was no pressure or force in this kiss. It was tender and calm and you felt Tommy’s lips massage every inch of your mouth in the most sensual way.

 His rough thumbs moved over the soft skin on your cheeks, over and over again and, without hesitation, you responded to his touch, your passion increasing the longer it went on.

 With every second that passed, there was a new sensation you had to take in and it was after at least a minute that Tommy reached out slightly with his tongue. He ran the tip along the length of your lips, probing away where you joined, seeking an opportunity to dip inside. By now, your mind was awash with arousal, a sensation which, too, was alien and foreign to you. Any apprehension you had just vanished, and you just wanted more.

 You gasped under your breath and your hands eventually found their way into Tommy’s hair. No sooner had you parted your lips, no sooner had you given him an opening, than you felt the tip of his tongue ease inside. You gasped once more as your tongues touched, a sense of electricity passing through you.

 The more you kissed, the more you relaxed. The more you relaxed, the more you wanted him. And, the more you wanted him, the more you felt your arousal stir.

 What on earth was this feeling? So strange. So alien. So goddamn amazing…until, suddenly Tommy pulled away. He broke the kiss, leaving you wanting for more. You started to protest, but Tommy simply brought a finger to your lips urging you not to continue.

 "I am sorry Love” Tommy spoke softly.

 “For kissing me?” you queried while shyly bringing your middle and index finger to your lips, feeling them after they have been kissed for the very first time. They felt swollen and moist and you bit your lower lip inadvertently, wanting to feel Tommy’s mouth against yours again.

 “No, that I am not sorry for” Tommy chuckled. “But I am sorry for my motive having been two-fold when offering you employment at my company. So, I must ask, do you still want the job knowing that I have taken an interest in you?” Tommy then asked and you blushed.

“Well, Tommy…” you began to say while trying to find your words. “Yes. In fact, I believe that my appetite for the position in your company has just increased quite drastically” you then said shyly while Tommy caressed your cheek again.

 “Good. I am glad” Tommy smiled before kissing you once more, this time more briefly. He knew that this must have been a first for you and he also knew that you must have been about fifteen years younger than him. He could tell by the way you had reacted to his onslaught and, with that in mind, he didn’t take it any further than that. He was patient, giving you time, regardless of how much he wanted you and, the truth was, that he wanted you a lot. He wanted you more than anyone else since the day he had met Grace. He was in awe with you and, feeling that way again, worried him. He felt alive and when he felt alive, he knew that he would do dangerous things.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tag List:

@fastfan

@elenavampire21

@dolllol2405

@allie131313

@cilliansangel

@coldbastille

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@cdej6

@kathrinemelissa

@landlockedmermaid77

@crazymar15

@m3th-kate (cannot tag)

@damedomino  

@lauren-raines-x

@miss-bunny19

@halleisheree (cannot tag)

@skinny-bitch-juice

@odorinana

@cloudofdisney

@lexiwoods (cannot tag)

@weepingstudentfishhorse

@allexiiisss

@geminiwolves

@letsstarsfalling

@ysmmsy

@chlorrox

@tommyshelbypb

@chocolatehalo

@music-lover911

@desperate-and-broken

@mysticaldeanvoidhorse

@peaky-cillian

@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz

@december16-1991

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

@romanogersendgame

@randomfangirl2718

@dorothea-hwldr (cannot tag)

@missymurphy1985

@peakyscillian

@lilymurphy03

@deefigs

@theflamecrystal

@livinginfantaxy

@rosey1981

@elenvampire21 (cannot tag)

@hanster1998

@mariapaiva13 (cannot tag)

@fairypitou

@zozeebo

@kasaikawa

@littleweirdoalien

@sad-huffle-nerd

@theflamecrystal

@peakymalfoyscullymulder (cannot tag)

@0ghostwriter0

@stylescanbeatmyback

@1-800-peakyblinders

@datewithgianni

@momoneymolife

@mcntsee

@janelongxox

@basiclassy

@being-worthy

@chaotic-bean-of-smolness

@margoo0

@vhscillian

@crazymar15

@im-constantly-fangirling

@namelesslosers

@littlewhiterose

@ttzamara

@cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon

@dolllol2405

@pkab

@babaohhhriley

@littleweirdoalien

@alreadybroken-ts

@masteroperator

@stevie75

@shabzy96

@rainbow12346

@obsessedwithfandomsx

@geeksareunique

@laysalespoir

@paigem00

@lkarls

@suneshinebelledaisy (cannot tag)

@vamp-army

@luckystarme

@myjumper

@gxorg

@eline-1806

@goldenharrysworld

@cristinagronk16

@stylesofloki

@faatxma

@slut-for-matt-murdock

@tpwkstiles

@myjumper

@cloudofdisney

@look-at-the-soul

@smellyzcat

@kittycatcait219 (cannot tag)

@theliterarybeldam

@bekkiemahonxx95 (cannot tag)

@layazul

@slutforprentiss03 (cannot tag)

@blossemedfloweroflove (cannot tag)

@lyn07

@kagilmore

@dakotapaigelove (cannot tag)

@50svibes

@mainstreetlilly

@ourthatgirlabby

@bitchwhytho

@arthurdeservesbetterrip (cannot tag)

@takethee

@registerednursejackie

@sofi128

@mrkdvidal1989 (cannot tag)

@minxsblog

@annipiola (cannot tag)

@heidimoreton

@laylasbunbunny

@laylasbunbunny

@queenshelby

@camilleholland89

@forgottenpeakywriter

@fmo166

@foofarny

@vintagecherryt

@indierockgirrl 

@mrkdvidal1989​

@bluesongbird​

@dudde-44​

@gasolinesavages​

@kissforvoid​

@bluebird592

@1eugenia1isabella1​

@esposadomdp

@lulunalua23