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arlana-likes-to-write · 10 months ago

Note

Loved the 3 part of monet issue❤️. I thought about this. How about the doctor that experimented on reader became obsessed with us, infiltrated the compound as a new doctor and required that we go to observation, there she starts to do things again. I know it’s a little vague but that was what I could come with. See you and I hope you have a good day and take care of yourself.❤️❤️

-💣

My Beautiful Creation

Finally Part of the Monet Issues AU

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, gun violence, swearing, forced experiment, death, killing, panic attacks, guilt, pregnancy, protective Avengers,

Word Count: 7.3k

New York City was known as the city that never slept. So many people (sometimes too many people, in your opinion) came from so many walks of life. Everyone came to this city to chase a dream. As you walked to a busy sidewalk, you were just another fish swimming upstream and weaving through people on the phone, listening to music, or performing on the street corner. There was always something to look at: massive skyscrapers, fights on the street, or trying to pick somewhere to eat because of the million and one options. So it was odd that you felt eyes on you. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. However, when you turned around, no one was there. It had to be your nerves since you’ve only been back in the city for two months. It would take time for you to feel safe since HYDRA altered your life.

The first step to returning your life to normal was meeting with Taylor and a few other friends for lunch. Opening the door to the small hole in the wall, you welcomed the quiet and peaceful environment. It was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the sidewalk. You saw Taylor in the corner, and you pointed to the table. The hostess nodded, and you walked over to them. “Look who finally is here to grace us with her presence,” your friend, Brooke, teased. She stood up and did a slight bow. “The princess has returned.” You punched her shoulder at her joke attempt, but it made you smile.

“Leave her alone, Brookie,” Emma said. “She’s been busy being an Avenger or something.”

“More like fucking one!” Brooke and Taylor high-fived across the table.

“Are we done?” You asked. “Because I will leave.” Emma grabbed your hand and forced you into the empty seat next to Taylor. You met Emma and Brooke through Taylor. While you went to college out of state, she went to Columbia. Brooke and Emma were her freshman-year roommates, and they were used to you staying over every weekend.

“We love you, Egghead,” Taylor kissed your cheek.

“And we missed you,” Emma added. You missed them, too. Lunch was spent picking on one another, catching up, and filling your stomach with cheap but good Italian food.

“So, are we going to be invited to the wedding?” Brooke asked, looking at you. You raised your eyebrows. “You and Natasha. Aren’t you guys like engaged?” You chuckled.

“Not even close,” you said. “We only have been dating for a few months officially. I doubt she would even want that,” Taylor scuffed, shaking her head.

“Have you talked about it?” Emma asked before you could question Taylor.

“Well, no,” you admitted. “There has been a lot going on.” Taylor chuckled. “Do you have something to say?” Your best friend pinched your side, and you glared at her.

“Natasha looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and painted the stars in the sky,” you tried to hide your embarrassment by picking at the pasta in front of you. “She would 100% be down to marry you.”

When lunch was over, you paid for the meal at the front. As you waited for your card, you felt that eerie sensation that prickled at the back of your neck. Your gaze darted around the restaurant’s other patrons to find the source of your uneasiness, but you couldn’t figure it out.

“Hey,” you were pulled away by Taylor’s voice. She was holding your card and frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled and took the card from her. “Let’s get out of here.” Was it a trick of your mind, or was someone watching your every step?

“Get off of me!” You gasped, trying to push Yelena off of you. Her body became dead weight. “You are so annoying,” you tickled her sides, and she quickly got off you. Her eyes were wide in fear.

“That was dirty,” she sat next to you while Kate and Peter joined you on the couch, hands filled with snacks and drinks. You rolled your eyes and stood up to help them.

“I thought you were supposed to help them,” the blonde shrugged and grabbed a beer from Kate. It was routine for you to find yourself with the trio when you were at the compound. You liked training with Wanda and Vision, eating dinner with Tony and Pepper, and cuddling up with your girlfriend. Since the ‘I love you’ confession, you both grew more confident in the relationship in front of the team. Movie nights were spent in each other’s arms. Natasha would grab you by the waist and kiss you, much to the disdain of Yelena and your father. The business was going well, your relationship with your father was better than ever, and life was good.

“You bitch!” You threw a piece of popcorn at Peter. “I can’t believe you stole my star.”

“I picked random!” He defended.

“Kate has four stars?! You stoke from me, and now I have zero.” You heard laughter from the kitchen and saw Tony. “I’ll be right back. Don’t start the mini-game without me,” you climbed over the back of the couch and walked over to him. He was in a meeting when you arrived at the compound.

“Hi, squirt,” he hugged you. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you watched him fill a mug with the leftover coffee in the pot. “You should cut back on the caffeine.” He shook his head.

“You should like Pepper.”

“The woman in your life is usually right,” the CEO squeezed your shoulder as she walked past you. Accepting Pepper as your father’s girlfriend turned-wife was hard for you. You saw her as someone that was trying to replace your mom. Another person is stealing Tony’s attention. So you treated her as a business associate but ran in the same circle. It became impossible to ignore her, and soon, you began to look for her at every Gala or event, finding a strange sense of peace from the older woman. “Have you asked her yet?”

“No, I was busy getting yelled at by my questionable habits,” you and Pepper rolled your eyes. “Are you free to have dinner with us?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

“Mini game time,” Yelena yelled from the couch. “Get your ass over here.” You flipped the blonde off, told the couple you could see them later, and joined your friends back on the couch.

“You’re pregnant?!” You gasped, putting the glass of wine that Pepper paired with the dinner she made. It was just you, Tony, and Pepper in their section of the compound. “Have you told anyone?” Pepper shook her head.

“We wanted to tell you first,” your father took his wife’s hand.

“And you are okay with this?” You heard the worry in his voice. Why wouldn’t you be okay with this?

“I mean, the idea of you having unprotected sex kind of gives me,” you faked a gag. Tony glared at you, but Pepper covered her mouth as she laughed. “But I’m so happy for you! I can’t wait to be an older sister!” When dinner was finished, you helped Pepper clean the dishes while Tony took a phone call from Rhodey.

“He was worried,” she glanced at him to ensure he was still on the phone. “About how you would reach the news.

“Really?” You questioned, drying a few plates and putting them away. “Why?” She sighed.

“I think he was worried you would feel like he was replacing you,” you frowned. “I know it’s not ideal timing, especially since you still trying to build your relationship with him. But-”

“Pepper,” you placed a hand on her arm, promptly cutting her off. “I’m happy for you both. You are going to make a great mother, and I know from first-hand experience,” the CEO smiled, kissing your temple. Suddenly, you felt arms around your waist, and you were lifted off the ground.

“Are you trying to steal my wife?” Tony asked. You squeaked as he spun you around. “Don’t you already have a girl to call your own? Or are you trying to get all the women in the compound?”

“It’s the Stark charm,” you laughed, a little out of breath from his tickling assault. “It’s hard for a woman to resist it,” he let you go, and it took a moment to gather your bearings.

“Ain’t that the truth?” He whipped a fake tear. “I’m so proud of you,” you saw Pepper pick up the drying towel, twist it, and snap it at Tony’s back. He yelped and jumped around to face Pepper.

“You sabotaged my help,” she handed him the towel. “Dishes are your punishment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you giggled as Pepper linked your arm with hers.

“Stark charm,” you said, looking over your shoulder. The pout on Tony’s face made you laugh. “Ladies can’t resist it.”

“There you are, malyshka (baby girl),” you looked up from your laptop and saw Natasha standing in the doorway. Her arms crossed against her chest, and her long-sleeved shirt came down to her thighs. “Where have you been?”

“Planning,” you said, closed your laptop, and put it on your nightstand. She raised a questioning eyebrow as she walked over. “I’m just trying to move some meetings around and delicate responsibilities.” Your girlfriend climbed onto the bed and swung her legs over to sit on your lap.

“Are you leaving the company?”

“I would never. I want to spend more time with you, my dad, and the team,” what you wanted was to be here at the early stages of her pregnancy. With the father being Iron Man, it was uncertain how often he would be around when the world called for him. You told Pepper you had no problem with being there. The CEO wasn’t ready to tell the team yet, so lying to your former spy girlfriend was challenging. You knew she wasn’t buying your story. “Everything is fine,” you squeezed her thighs. “I promise,” you leaned forward and nudged your nose against hers. “Can I kiss you?” You asked. The Black Widow chuckled.

“You never have to ask,” you kissed her, taking in the taste of Natasha. It was addicting. You felt her smile in the kiss and soon pulled away.

“Movie night. What do you want to watch?” You asked, moving your hands up and down her back.

“Moonraker,” you huffed. “Please, sweetheart,” she gave you her best puppy dog eyes that always seemed to melt you.

“Put it on,” She grabbed the remote and fell to your side. As the movie began to play, Natasha curled up into your side, and you wrapped your arms around her. “I love you,” you mumbled.

“I love you too.”

“Ooo,” you looked at Pepper as she rubbed her stomach. She was three months pregnant, and every sound of discomfort sent you and Tony into a fit of anxiety. “Come here,” she held out her hand, and you were quick to your feet. She took your hand and placed it on her stomach. “Just wait,” you waited and soon felt the small kicks.

“Holy shit,” you sat down next to her. “That is so weird.” Pepper chuckled.

“It’s even better when she wakes you up at 2 in the morning,” she sarcastically said.

“Can she hear us?” You looked at her.

“Doctors say once they are about 23 weeks, they’ll be able to make out voices outside the womb, but that hasn’t stopped your father,” she explained.

“Can I?” She nodded. “Hi, little one,” you spoke to Pepper’s stomach. It was a little strange, but a weird emotion bubbling in your chest. “I’m your big sister, and I’m so excited to meet you, spoil you, and fill you with all the sweets in the world,” you glanced up at Pepper as she laughed. Tears were forming in her eyes. “But,” you continued. “I’m going to protect and love you with every fiber of my being.” Pepper kissed your forehead and brought you into her arms.

“You are going to be a great sister.”

“I agree,” you looked at Tony. His facial expression was hard to read. “I need you to be part of this meeting, squirt,” you said. You looked at Pepper, and she had a reassuring smile.

“Okay,” you whispered. Why was there a knot in your stomach?

“She escaped,” was the only thing you could comprehend as you sat in the meeting room with the Avengers. There were a few here. Clint retired to Iowa with his family, Bruce and Thor were off-world, and Steve, Sam, and Vision were on a mission. Natasha held onto your hand. “I don’t understand. How did she escape?” Maria explained that the doctor responsible for your newfound ability escaped the prison. Unlike her boss, she wasn’t sent to the RAFT. The jury found her guilty but believed her actions weren’t entirely her doing and that HYDRA brainwashed her. Stockholm Syndrome was what they called it. So, she was sentenced to a medium-security prison.

“She got help from a guard that worked there. His name is Johnathan Anderson,” Maria brought up a picture of him. His black hair was closely chopped, and he had a beard. His blue eyes had a no-nonsense expression. Starring at this picture, you felt that eerie sensation on the back of your neck. Subconsciously, you grabbed the back of your neck. “When his supervisors searched his lockers, they found love letters between him and her.”

“Do we know what she wants?” Wanda asked.

“Me,” you whispered. Their heads snapped to look at you. “I-I was her only success. All the others died, so it makes sense that she would be after me,” Natasha squeezed your hand, and instead of looking at her, you placed your head on her shoulder.

“We won’t let that happen,” Tony firmly said. “We’ve been tracking Anderson’s movements. When he’s not at work, he frequently visits two locations. A home in Connecticut and a warehouse in PA. She has to be there,” you’ve never seen him this determined. “We find her and lock her in the RAFT like she should have been in the first fucking place.”

“Language,” Natasha gasped. Tony glared at your girlfriend, but a smile crept onto his face. She attempted to lighten the mood of the situation, but you knew the redhead better than anyone. She was scared, terrified of the prospect of losing you. You were terrified yourself.

“I can stay,” Natasha said for the 10th time. You were in the kitchen, busying your hands and making you and Pepper a small snack. “I’ll stay if you want me to,” you wanted her to stay and feel safe in her arms while the rest of the team went off to fight the bad guy. A clash of thunder caused you to look out the window. Even the weather seemed to know you were in a mood.

“You can’t,” you dropped the knife and cupped her cheeks with your hands. “The team is far too thin to search 2 locations, and Tony is making last-minute adjustments to FRIDAY to keep me and Pepper safe.” She turned to kiss each of your palms.

“I hate this,” she admitted.

“So do I, but you will stop both of them, and I’ll be safe again,” Natasha moved her arms around your waist and pulled you flush to her. You could feel her heartbeat, the organ rattling in her rib cage. Her warm breath caused goosebumps to cover your skin as she burrowed her face deeper into your neck.

“I love,” she mumbled. It was barely audible to your ears.

“I love you too,” you kissed her head. “Go get ready, baby,” you squeezed her. “I’ll make you a peanut butter sandwich,” she huffed, removed herself from your arms, and sighed when she was out of sight. Thunder shook the compound, and you wondered what Thor was up to that was causing this storm. You loved rain storms, listening to the rain hitting the roof and the lightning that brightened up the sky. Now, it filled you with dread, an omen for darker times ahead.

As soon as the team left, Pepper asked if you wanted to help her paint the nursery. You agreed right away, hoping to find a helpful distraction. Soft music was filling the comfortable silence. They chose a light lilac for the walls; well, you figured Pepper picked it, and Tony swiped his card. There were boxes of furniture that still needed to be put together and clothes that were ready to be folded. Oh, you could not wait to spoil her. “How are you?” Pepper asked. She was taking a short break, resting in the rocking chair that Clint made. Sighing, you placed the paintbrush on the tray and looked at the half-finished room.

“I’m okay,” you said. “I feel like I finally have my footing, you know?” You looked at the CEO. “I just don’t want to lose the momentum I have.”

“You won’t,” she stood up and made your way over to you. She is quick to pull you into a hug. You slumped against her, desperately missing your mother’s hugs. “You are so courageous and strong. Your father and Natasha won’t rest until you are safe.” You knew that, so you nodded against the CEO.

“Miss. Stark,” FRIDAY said. “I do apologize, but your presence is being requested in med bay. It is time for your monthly check-in.” You groaned, stomped slightly, and pulled away from the CEO. It was Tony’s doing. He wanted to make sure the powers given to you weren’t causing you any problems. Pepper chuckled.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You shook your head.

“It won’t be long. I’ll be back, and we can finish painting, maybe tackle some of these boxes.” Pepper smiled, kissing your forehead. It was rare that you used your powers outside of training. Sometimes, you could use it to warm your body temperature and cuddle up to your cold girlfriend. Or you could create a small fire for Yelena to cook smores. Fighting wasn’t your thing. When you were younger, you hated the Avengers. It was another thing that took Tony away from you. When your mind was busy, you forgot about the power you could wield, forgot what happened to you. Sighing, you stretched your arms and opened the door to one of the medical rooms.

“Doctor Cho-” your voice trailed off as you stared at the woman in front of you who was not Helen Cho. “Who are you?”

“Doctor Cho is busy with other matters,” that voice. A chill went down your spine. The doctor spun around to face you, tablet in hand. “I will be conducting your exam today.” Charlotte Williams is the woman responsible for your newfound ability. You turned to leave, but the doors slammed shut and locked. No amount of pulling on the handle made the door move.

“How did you get in here?” You asked, facing her.

“You silly girl,” she laughed. “I gave you the ability to manipulate fire. do you not think I can hack your daddy’s AI?” You could fight and defend yourself and Pepper. With a flick of your wrist, fire engulfed your hands. “Not so fast,” she clicked a few buttons on the tablet, and the fire went out. You fell to your knees; a pained groan barely left your lips.

“What did you do to me?” Her footsteps echoed in the quiet exam room, closing the distance. She stood in front of you.

“I like to call it a fail-safe. With powers like yours, they can be unpredictable; I had to ensure you are under my control,” she ran her hand over your hair. “But it’s smart to have collateral,” she turned the tablet to show you security footage of Pepper. Johnathan Anderson had a gun pointed at her. Your eyes flickered to her, then the screen.

“What do you want?” You whispered.

“My beautiful creation,” she softly spoke. “I have missed you so much.”

Charlotte had you chained down to the table, an IV in your arm, and a nasal cannula for oxygen. She moved the security footage of Pepper to a bigger screen, a reminder that she was in charge. “Can I ask what you are doing to me?” You questioned. She ignored you and focused on your vitals. You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. There had to be a way out of this, but she had you under her control with whatever she typed on her tablet. Your attempt to escape had to be a surprise, so you had to wait. Wait and have some patience. Charlotte placed a warm towel on your veins. Once satisfied, she removed the towel and gently messaged the area to draw out your veins. Doctors always had difficulty finding an excellent place to draw blood. She tied a tourniquet around your arm and cleaned the spot. There was no pain when she pricked you with the needle, and the syringe filled with your blood.

“Have you experienced any fatigue? Headaches? Fevers? Insomnia?” She asked, taking your blood over to a microscope. The fact she had your blood didn’t sit right with you. You tugged on the chains.

“No,” you answered her.

“Have you felt any pain when using your powers?” Her back was still facing you.

“No,” you spoke.

“Any extreme mood swings?” She faces you, hands behind her back. “Anger? Jealously? Depression?” You shook your head now that she was facing you. She brought over a chair and sat down. “Do you know why you were chosen for this?” She questioned.

“Because I’m a Stark,” you whispered. It was the only reason that made sense. You were a Stark, a connection to Iron Man and the rest of the Avengers. Charlotte scuffed, shaking her head.

“You are more than a ridiculous last name. You and I both know that” she trailed her fingertip up and down your veins—goosebumps formed under her touch. “So sensitive,” she giggled. “I wanted you because you are resilient. You overcame so much to get where you are. I am in awe of that raw strength,” you weren’t sure if you could take what she said as a compliment. You’ve heard those exact words from close friends and Natasha, who understood the truth behind your relationship with your father. It didn’t sound enjoyable coming from her. “My beautiful work of art,” your stomach dropped. Bile filled your throat at the name. “We are going to do amazing things for the world.

You were tired, even though you were laying in bed and watching her take more of your blood, took a hair sample, and swapped your mouth for your saliva. Whenever she took something from you, she turned her back and worked on whatever she tried to figure out. It wasn’t proving easy. There were subtle changes to her behavior. Shoulders were tense. There was mumbling under her breath. Her eyebrows were pinched together. She was growing frustrated.

Charlotte had a stethoscope around her neck. The cold metal made you jump. “What are you trying to figure out?” She ignored you. “You are running out of time,” she grabbed a needle and filled it with a liquid from a small bottle. You caught the name: Gadolinium. It was a chemical dye used in MRI scans to help improve and enhance the quality of the image. Why would she need that? Unless… You laughed.

“What’s so funny, Stark?” She asked, injecting the dye into your veins.

“You don’t know, do you?” You asked. “You may have selected me, wanted me for my raw strength, but you don’t know how I survived. If I were to guess you expected me to die in that chair,” her silence was all the answer you needed. “I bet your little trick earlier was nothing more than a placebo. You know nothing about what you created,” you focused your power on increasing your body temperature. The metal chains that once held you down melted on your skin. There was pain, but the adrenaline that was moving through your veins overpowered it. Charlotte grabbed a scalpel as you jumped out of the bed, ripping the IV out of your arm. You reached for the tablet she had, and she swiped at your hand, but you were fasted. Grabbing the tablet, you threw it to the ground. The last thing you wanted was for her to contact Anderson.

“I understand you completely,” she slashed again, but you jumped back. “You want approval,” she attacked again. “You want acceptance.” Again, you dogged her. “You want love, and I can give you all of that.” You understood how she was able to convince Anderson to help her. Her words were sickly sweet, and she knew what insecurities to target. There was a part of your brain that wanted to give in. To believe her. Your eyes glanced at the security footage. There were others you had to think about, such as Pepper, your unborn little sister, and your friends back in the city. You had Yelena, Kate, and Peter. Most importantly, you had Natasha and Tony. They gave you love. They accepted you. You would never need her.

Charlotte lunged for you again, and you grabbed her arm to disarm her. However, being without a weapon didn’t deter her. She threw her body at you, and you tumbled to the floor, both fighting for control over the small metal knife. In the end, you were strong. It was a gut instinct as you drove the blade into her stomach and twisted. You were above her and watched her eyes fill with panic and her mouth pool with blood.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I can’t allow you to hurt me and my family anymore. You understand that, right?” She nodded and shakily put her hand on your cheek. You allowed her to have her moment. “I hope you find love and acceptance in the next life.” Her hand fell from your cheek, and you watched her breathing stop. Biting back your tears, you closed her eyes. On shaky legs, you left the room. You couldn’t take your eyes off her body until the doors closed.

The hallway was spinning. Your chest was heaving. You pressed your palms to your eyes. “Stop, stop,” you mumbled on the verge of a panic attack. “Breath. Just fucking breath.” You heard a muffled scream from the hall closet, and it pulled you out of the panic attack. “Helen!” You called out and ran towards the noise. Another muffled yell and you open the closet. Helen was gagged and bonded with rope. “Helen,” you removed the towel from her mouth, and she took a gasp for air. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” she said, and you began to undo the rope around her wrists and ankles. “Where is she?”

“She is,” you trailed off. “She’s been dealt with.” You killed her. Her blood stained your hands. “Look, Pepper is still in danger, and I need to get to her. Can you call my dad? And don’t use anything that has been connected to FRIDAY.” You weren’t sure how far her reach was. Once Helen was standing on her own two feet, and she reassured you that she was fine, you took off with one of the ropes in your hand. Pepper was on her and Tony’s section of the compound. If the feed was accurate, Anderson had her on the couch. There was a door behind him that you could use, and it was hidden by furniture and a wall if you were fast enough.

Quietly, you closed the door behind you and were covered by a bookshelf. You heard footsteps, pacing back and forth. “I don’t get it,” Pepper spoke. “Why are you helping her? You must know what she put my daughter through.” Your heart skipped at the term Pepper called you. You saw her as a mother figure these past few months, but hearing her call you her daughter made your stomach flip.

“She’s not your kid.”

“She might as well be. I didn’t give birth to her, but I love her as my own,” you let out a shaky breath and heard Anderson’s footsteps stop.

“Then you must understand why I’m helping her,” you moved closer, now covered by a small wall. You peeked your head out, and Pepper’s eyes darted to you. Her expression never changed. “I love her,” he kept talking, unaware of what was happening behind him. “And she loves me.”

“Are you sure?” Pepper questioned. “I sense some hesitation.” You let out a shaky breath and wrapped the rope around your hands to create a taut line. You could do this; using your powers was too risky with how close Pepper was.

“She loves me. She’s just busy. Once her experiment is done, she will be mine,” he was obsessed with her, and you weren’t sure if she felt the same.

“I get it,” Pepper whispered. “We do crazy things for the ones we love,” you slowly stood up. “Even putting our own lives at risk.” It was your cue, and you moved quickly to wrap the rope around Anderson’s neck. He struggled against you, but you kicked in his knees. His legs went dead, and he fell. You pulled tighter.

“Sweetheart,” it was a mistake to look at Pepper as Anderson took the pause and flipped you onto your back. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Pepper stood up, picked up the gun he dropped, and helped you up. The guard was coughing and rubbing his neck.

“Get somewhere safe,” you told her. “Tony should be on his way.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he was slowly standing up.

“Go! Now!” You punch him, making contact with his nose. A horrible crack filled the silence, and pain radiated through your fingers, but you refused to let up. You were tired of these people having control over your life. You were supposed to be safe here, and they went and ruined it. Why was this happening to you? Why? Why? WHY? You weren’t sure when you straddled Anderson; each punch you threw was more brutal than the next. His bloody face began to blur with tears that formed in your eyes. You were exhausted and drained, and the adrenaline was running its way out of your system, but a burning rage kept you going until solid arms wrapped around you. “No, no, no,” you struggled against the hold. Were there more? Did Charlotte have other people under her control? How did you miss that? You needed to find Pepper and fast. But they wouldn’t let go of you.

“Hey, malyshka (baby girl), it’s me,” Natasha held onto your face and forced you to look at her.

“Natty,” you whispered; your eyes must have given away your frantic state because her green eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re safe. You’re so safe,” she repeated. You numbly nodded, burrowing your head in her neck. Your whole body shook as you looked over her shoulder and saw Tony checking on Pepper. His eyes locked on yours, and you had to close your own. There was a quilt filling his own. It was too much too much.

“You wanted to see me,” you stood in Tony’s lap. After you were treated with your wounds and a long shower, Wanda told you that Tony wanted to see you. You didn’t trust FRIDAY’s announcement. So you scrubbed and scrubbed your skin raw until you were happy with how clean you were. Until you no longer saw the blood on your hands. Tony looked up from his computer; there were bags underneath his eyes.

“Hey,” he smiled. “I wanted to see how you are doing,” you shrugged and walked over to him, arms crossed against your chest.

“Can I stay in here with you for a little bit?”

“Of course,” he went to put his hand on your shoulder but hesitated. When you nodded that it was okay, he hugged you. You felt him release a shaky breath, which told you how much you needed a hug from him. Your hands gripped him tighter, and the faint scent of coffee filled your nose. It made you feel safe. Finally, you ended the hug, whipped a tear that fell from your eye, and crawled into the bean bag he held in his lap. He watched you settle and turned his attention back to what he was working on. A hologram appeared before him, and he began moving different components. They were moving so fast you couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was trying to do. Soon, the items flashed red. He grabbed his coffee mug and threw it against the wall. It shattered on impact, leftover liquid staining the wall. You let out a squeak, surprised by his sudden outburst. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” he began to pick up the porcelain pieces, but you saw his hands shake. Quickly, you stood up from the bean bag and grabbed some paper towels before walking over to him. You heard each hitch in his breath.

“Tony, it’s okay,” you spoke softly. “Let me take care of it.” He rapidly shook his head; breathing became shallow and erratic as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. “Dad,” he looked at you. “I’m going to hug you now, okay?” A simple nod was all you got as you sat up on your knees and brought him into a hug. His head slumped against your chest, and his body was tense with panic.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped.

“Sh,” you told him. “Just follow my breathing. Nice and slow.” You saw his hands release the shards of the cup. Red patches of blood appeared on his palm. The cuts weren’t life-threatening, so you could attend to them later. Soon, his body relaxed against yours, and his breathing was under control. “Good. Let’s move to the couch, maybe a little more comfortable.” He had no fight as he allowed you to stand and move him to the couch. He refused to look at you, not even when you cleaned up the mug or brought a first aid kit. You knelt in front of him, carefully cleaning the minor cuts. You were familiar with panic attacks, having many yourself, and helping your friends through them. “Are you with me?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, licking his lips. “Yeah, I’m here.” You sat beside him on the couch, knocking your leg against his.

“Do you want to talk about what caused the panic attack?” He sighed, opening and closing his hands.

“I was trying to figure out how she did it,” he gestured to the still flashing red items. “She beat me. She was better, and I can’t let that happen and risk you and Pepper’s life. But I can’t fucking figure it out,” he slumped back. “How can I protect her when I keep failing to protect you?” You stayed quiet, tapping your fingers against your thighs. You stared at the blinking hologram. “I am Iron Man,” he mumbled.

“Yes, you are,” you spoke. “You are Iron Man, a part of the Avengers, playboy, genius, billionaire, and philanthropist,” he chuckled. “But you are human, and we sometimes get it wrong. We make mistakes and can’t find the answers to everything. That’s life,” you said. You looked back at him, and he was already looking at you. “The human existence is so uncertain, but that is one thing I know. You will love and protect that little girl and aren’t doing it alone.”

“Morgan,” he said. You whispered it back to him. “It’s the name we decided. Pepper wanted to wait, but I wanted to tell you.”

“I like it,” he held out your hand, and Tony took it. “What happened to me and Pepper was not your fault. Sometimes things happen a little out of our control,” he pulled you into a hug, kissing your temple.

“I’ll never get over how lucky I am to call you my daughter,” you leaned into the hug more and felt your body warm up at the praise.

“I’m pretty lucky I get to call you my dad,” you said. “Do you want some help on that?” You gestured to the hologram. “Two eyes are better than one.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you up on that.”

You found Natasha in the training room past midnight, and she wasn’t slowing down anytime soon. Only wearing a sports bra and leggings, she punched and kicked at the sandbag in front of her. Her body was glistening with sweat. Any other time, you would spend the time ogling your very sexy girlfriend, but she was hurting. It was different from seeing Tony’s panic attack or how Pepper hugged you tighter. She was more subtle, but you knew Natasha well. “Hi baby,” you made your presence known, but she kept punching harder and harder. “Do you want to shower and go to bed?” Still no response. You sighed and walked over to her, keeping your footsteps slow but loud. You felt her gaze on you, analyzing your next move. Instead of stopping her, you stretched, crumbled up her shirt, and she took off and lay on the ground. The shirt wasn’t a great pillow.

“Go to bed,” she said.

“Not without you, and you are going to be here for a while, so I’m going to be right here,” you closed your eyes. The rhythmic sound of her punching almost rocked you to sleep, but the sudden quiet pulled you awake. Opening your eyes, Natasha was sitting in front of you. “It’s rude to stare, you know,” she smirked.

“I just like looking at my beautiful girlfriend.”

“Creep,” she laughed, and you knew it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Are you alright, my love?” She scuffed.

“I feel like I should be asking you,” you said, sitting up and intertwining your legs with hers.

“It’s okay to not be okay with all this. I mean, someone broke into our home,” she looked down, and you forced her chin up to look at you. “Talk to me, beautiful.”

“Do you like living here?” You were stunned by her question. “Your home is here and the city, but do you like both places.”

“Where are you going with this, Natasha?” You asked.

“Sometimes I just want to walk away from this. I want to live where no one can find me and take you with me because I can’t stay somewhere you could be in danger.”

“What about the team? Yelena?”

“Fuck them,” you glared at her knowing she didn’t mean that. “I’ll miss them and this life, but they could come and visit. You are more important than any mission I fight,” she moved closer to you, carefully laying you down on your back. Her body covered yours. “Would you go with me? You could still work, and we would wait till Pepper gave birth. I’d leave this to start a family and keep you safe.” You ran your fingers through her red hair.

“This sounds like a marriage proposal without a ring,” you teased.

“Who said I don’t have a ring?” she kissed your cheek and lingered above your lips. “So what do you say?”

“Show me the ring, and I’ll say yes,” you forced her down, lips colliding into a messy kiss. She tasted mint and a hint of strawberry from her electrolyte drink, and both covered her natural taste. But you couldn’t care less. You kissed her as if your life were dependent on it because, at that moment, it was.

“Auntie Nat!” Your five-year-old sister’s side, rushing out of the car and sprinting up the stairs of your log cabin home. Morgan pushed past you and jumped into the arms of your wife. The ex-Avenger dramatically kissed the girl’s cheek, which caused her laughter to fill the quiet space.

“What am I, chopped liver?” You asked.

“She wouldn’t stop talking about spending time at Auntie Nat’s house and playing with Liho,” Tony laughed. You met him halfway to grab Morgan’s bags.

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled, hugging your father and Pepper. “Betrayed by my sister.”

“Thank you for watching her. We appreciate it.” They were leaving on a week-long, no-kid vacation to Europe. You loved watching Morgan, and it seemed only fair since they gifted you this property up in Maine as a wedding gift. Natasha stepped away from Avenging, and you delegated more responsibilities to your company. It was strange at first not having a meeting to attend or waiting by the phone when Natasha was away on a mission. You could relax. You found your sister in the living room, with her toys scattered on the ground, and captured Natasha’s attention in whatever game of make-believe she created.

“I see what you’ll be doing for a week.”

“Can I come to Italy with you and leave them to their devices?”

“Maybe next time,” Pepper laughed, squeezing your shoulder as she walked over to where Morgan was sitting. You placed her bags on the foot of the stairs.

“This looks good,” you hummed in question. “This life away from Avenging and the spotlight. It looks good on both of you,” you smiled as you watched Morgan rope her mother into whatever story she was spinning. “I was hesitant when you said you wanted to move,” you knew he was. “But I’m glad you did it, squirt.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Suddenly, you felt a little body run into your legs.

“Mommy said you were upset because I didn’t say hi,” you picked her up with a slight grunt.

“Hi, Princess Morgan,” you kissed her cheek.

“Hi, sissy,” she wrapped her arms around your neck. “You’re my favorite sister.” You looked at Tony; his mouth hung open slightly.

“Do you have more of us running around I don’t know about?” He shrugged. “Alright, say goodbye to your dad,” you weren’t sure how well she would take being away from her parents for so long. So you and Natasha planned a week filled with fun. Tony took his daughter from you and squeezed her tight.

“Gonna miss you, princess.”

“Miss you too, Daddy,” she whispered. “Are you going to bring me something back?” You chuckled and shook your head. She was a firecracker, always keeping you on your toes. Once more goodbyes were said, and you watched their car drive away, you looked at Morgan.

“Ice cream time?”

“Ice cream time,” she repeated and returned to the cabin. Before you could follow her, Natasha’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close. Her hands rested on your stomach; they seemed to find their way there a lot.

“I love watching you with her,” she kissed your neck. “Makes me excited to meet our little one,” you giggled and turned to face her.

“Are you excited to tell Tony and Pepper when they return?”

“Hopefully, he doesn’t threaten me like when I asked for his blessing.”

“Auntie Nat! Sissy! You said ice cream time!” Morgan’s voice called out.

“Duty calls,” you stole a quick kiss from Natasha and ran into the house, where Morgan waited patiently in the kitchen.

You were married, expecting your first child, and your home was filled with laughter, happiness, and warmth because your life didn’t end when you were trapped in that chair. The doctor was right you were reborn into something beautiful but it wasn’t what she had in mind.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n stark #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x pepper potts #pepper potts x daughter!reader

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Almost Too Far Gone (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: It's when the Doctor starts messing with things he shouldn't that you realise that you're growing afraid of him. Is it time to slip away unnoticed?

CW: anxiety, crying, fear, Time Lord Victorious!Doctor, hurt- minimal comfort (but still some comfort), angst

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Is there anything you can't do?

“Not anymore.”

Those two words. Two innocuous, innocent words. As soon as they left the Doctor’s mouth, pure, cold dread washed over you. You felt fear unlike that which you’d ever felt before coursing through your system. You’d felt fear before, yes. You’d been taken hostage by aliens. Almost tortured by Daleks. Almost lost the Doctor and the Doctor had almost lost you, too.

But this? Fear brought on by someone you trust- breaking that trust? Someone as powerful as the Doctor? No. You wanted to go home. Now. Quietly, as the Doctor was watching Captain Adelaide Brooke walk up the street and towards her house, you crept backwards back through the TARDIS doors. You’d set it for home and set the TARDIS to go back and find him after you’d left the doors and left him.

God, leaving the Doctor. It was a thought you’d never entertained before the last few months. Since Donna, since Rose. He’d changed. He was becoming something new, something he shouldn’t be. If the Doctor from even one year ago could see himself now… he’d be horrified.

Rushing towards the console, you swiped at your cheeks, pulling your hands back to see tears collected on your skin. You hadn’t even realised you were crying. You steeled yourself and hurriedly wiped the rest of the tears away before looking towards the console.

“I- I don’t know if you can hear me, or… if you’re going to help me, but- but please- I need to go home.”

The TARDIS was silent for a moment as if in contemplation. You’d spoken to her before when you were in the console room by yourself, but you’d never asked her for anything before. You were terrified she wouldn’t listen. You wanted to just slip away and leave the Doctor to do whatever he felt he needed to do. No goodbyes. You weren’t sure you could handle them.

The TARDIS booted up, starting the process of taking off. You let out a sob. It’s a sob of relief and of terrible sadness. God, how are you supposed to do this? You can picture the Doctor outside, those sad eyes betraying his heartbreak as someone else leaves him too.

“Home?”

You shout, not having realised the Doctor was standing in the doorway. You didn’t turn to look at him. Your arms shook with the effort of not breaking down. You’d told him that he and the TARDIS were your home before all this. It was still true to this day.

“I thought… I thought we were your home. You and me- travelling the stars.” You can hear the set of his jaw from where you stand. You slowly start to turn, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. “That not true anymore, eh?”

“Of course it’s true,” you shout, pain ripping through your vocal cords. “I fucking love you, Doctor!”

The Doctor narrows his eyes, shielding himself from the possibility of letting someone back in. Of letting you in.

“Then why are you leaving?”

You scoff angrily, wiping at the tears hard enough to leave marks. You chew on your lip for a moment, trying to bring yourself to say the words.

“I’m scared of you.”

There, you’d said them. You’d given life to those four words that had been haunting you the last few months. At first, you’d just thought your anxiety was on a higher alert than usual. It was not necessarily unusual to have flare-ups like this, but then it persisted, and it never seemed to go away. And one day the Doctor gave you this look- this charged, dangerous look and you knew with absolute clarity that that was what it was. You were afraid of what he could do. What he could let himself do.

“You- what?” He looks almost angry for a second before it melts to confusion.

You cross your arms, wishing you had a bubble that you could hide in.

“I’m scared of you. You’re changing. You’re changing timelines and saving people you shouldn’t. You’re changing things and you’re- you’re becoming a threat.” You sucked in a shaky breath, tears falling faster over your cheeks. “I want to be with you, but- this is not okay. I don’t know how to- to- to help you. You don’t want to be helped.”

The Doctor was very quiet for a solid few moments, taking in the words you’d let forth like a slew of vomit. He nodded, stepping forward, looking at anything but you.

“I see,” is all he replied with at first. “Well, if you want to go back then I won’t stop you.”

Your lip quivers.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? We’re supposed to be friends- partners. And I come back inside to find you-” he breaks off, gesturing wildly with his hands as he looks for the words. “Sneaking off without so much as a goodbye, I mean- and you’re afraid of me? Afraid?!”

You flinched as he came closer. He was so upset, and it only served to make you feel that much worse.

“I saved you! I- I had- I have the power to save you!” The Doctor carded fingers through his hair erratically. You let out a quiet sob, shakes wracking your form.

“I- oh fuck.” It’s the first time you think you’ve ever heard him swear. “Oh, what am I doing? What’s- what’s happened to me?”

You’re quiet as he has this epiphany. You’re too worried to be hopeful that he might be seeing the light. Seeing how far gone he’s gotten. It takes him a moment, but then he’s looking up at you in horror. Not horror with you, but horror at himself. He knows. He’s finally realised the gravity of it all.

“Oh, my- Darling, please- forgive me?”

You bite on your lip, looking away. You know if he looks at you like that you’ll give him whatever he wants.

“I have so much making up to do, please- let me- let me start with you. I understand, I promise. You were scared. You are scared. I’m going to be better. If you want to go, I’ll- I’ll take you home,” he steps forward, reaching for you. “But if you want to stay. I promise you, I will be better.”

You force yourself to look at him. He looks desperate, reaching for you like if only he could just… touch you- everything would be okay.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I want to, but-”

“Say yes,” he replied softly. “If you want to, then say yes. Please.”

You contemplate this before deciding that the sincerity in his eyes is enough to believe him. You nod, and he’s on you in seconds, wrapping you up in his arms and visibly melting with relief. You wrap your arms around his back, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of his coat as he begins to cry.

“I’ll be better, I promise,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck. “I promise.”

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this-lovely-universe · 2 months ago

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Trauma Candy Salad

"Hi I'm Brook and I watched my sister die. I brought Lifesavers."

"Well that's ironic-"

"Hi I'm Finley and I was on the run for ten years and I brough Marsbars."

"Hi I'm Anastasia and I just found out that the rumour of my dad having a second secret child that he abandoned wasn't a rumour. I brought sugar daddies."

"Did you plan this out?"

"Kinda."

"Well, ok then-"

"Hi I'm Dorothea and I'm the secret child. And I brought sour patch kids."

"Hi, it's Brook again, and one time my mother got drunk and locked me and sister outside in the snow and then refused to take me to the hospital when I got really sick. And I brought M&M's!"

"Wow the parental issues are going to be a running theme"

"Hi, I'm Finley and one time, I got yoinked off the street and the man who yoinked me was all up in my face and I head butted him. He was fine. For about five minutes. Then he dropped dead and I was stuck tied up with his dead body for 33 hours. And I brought the gummy worms."

"What the fu-"

"Hi I'm Anastasia, and my dad used to malnourish me and when it came back on my medical results, he manipulated everyone thinking I was faking a eating disorder for attention."

"Oh-"

"What did you bring?"

"Oh, I brought uh- mini oreos."

Hi, I'm Dorothea and My foster sister once got found with drugs and instead of trying to defend herself or even admit it, she outed me to my homophobic parents. And I brought skittles!"

"hUH-"

"Cut the camera before Annie gets violent-"

"Hi, I'm Brook and I fought in a the battle of Manhattan five years before I knew I was a demigod. And I brought mentos."

"...How?"

"Great question."

"Hi, I'm Finley, and I once got thrown out a window on the 7th floor. And I brought gummy eyeballs."

"What has this turned into-"

"Hi, I'm Anastasia and one time I went to my guide counsellor about my grades and I opened up to her a bit and she went and told my dad, who caused 90% of my issues. and I brought nerds."

"why he's a piece of shit."

"Hi, I'm Dorothea and uh, I once nearly got sacrificed to a cult. uh, I brought wizz fizz."

"Holy fuck-"

Feel free to add if you want

@arisdaughter @childofthewargod @dianedantedominic @kaiaalwayswins @theorphicforest

@that-girl-cupid @delilah-isnt-dead-yett @daonedaonlyskh @hispanic-child-of-hermes

@aria-pane @wine-cooper @i-am-persephones-daughter @unhinged-waterlilly @chaos-pers0nified

@if-chaos-was-a-boy @ariathemortal @i-was-never-sane @gaygirldoodles @superbstarlightsheep

If you want to be added, removed or if I forgot to tag you, let me know :)

#brook has entered the chat #finley needs your attention #anastasia says hi #thea makes a splash #camp half blood #pjo roleplay #percy jackson #pjo #pjo rp #percy jackson oc #percy jackson rp #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percy series #pjo series #pjo fandom

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mariacallous · 8 months ago

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Republicans are thrashing around trying to get themselves out of the abortion ban they have tried to win for so many decades. Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC) was the first. In the fall of 2022, just months after the Supreme Court struck down Roe v. Wade, he proposed legislation calling for a national abortion ban after 15 weeks. So far, this bill has gone nowhere. Then, in 2023, gubernatorial candidate Glenn Youngkin of Virginia put the 15-week abortion ban at the center of his campaign to help the GOP take full control of the Virginia legislature. Rather than holding one house and picking up the other, he lost both. Recently, former President Donald Trump—who often brags about appointing the three Supreme Court justices who made possible the repeal of Roe v. Wade—offered his own way out of the thicket by applauding the fact that states now can decide the issue for themselves. And in Arizona, the Republican Senate candidate, Kari Lake, is trying to rally the party around the notion of a 15-week ban instead of the 1864 near total ban their court just affirmed, even though she’s facing criticism for this on the far right. Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal came out with a poll showing that abortion was the number one issue—by far—for suburban women voters in swing states.

In each instance (and there will be more) we find Republicans desperately trying to find a position on the issue that makes their base and the other parts of their coalition happy.

It doesn’t exist, and here’s why—abortion is an integral part of health care for women.

Since 2022, when the Supreme Court eviscerated Roe in the Dobbs case, we have been undergoing a reluctant national seminar in obstetrics and gynecology. All over the country, legislators—mostly male—are discovering that pregnancy is not simple. Pregnancies go wrong for many reasons, and when they do, the fetus needs to be removed. One of the first to discover this reality was Republican State Representative Neal Collins of South Carolina. He was brought to tears by the story of a South Carolina woman whose water broke just after 15 weeks of pregnancy. Obstetrics lesson #1—a fetus can’t live after the water breaks. But “lawyers advised doctors that they could not remove the fetus, despite that being the recommended medical course of action.” And so, the woman was sent home to miscarry on her own, putting her at risk of losing her uterus and/or getting blood poisoning.

A woman from Austin, Texas had a similar story—one that eventually made its way into a heart-wrenching ad by the Biden campaign. Amanda Zurawski was 18 weeks pregnant when her water broke. Rather than remove the fetus, doctors in Texas sent her home where she miscarried—and developed blood poisoning (sepsis) so severe that she may never get pregnant again. Note that in both cases the medical emergency happened after 15 weeks—late miscarriages are more likely to have serious medical effects than early ones. The 15-week idea, popular among Republicans seeking a way out of their quagmire, doesn’t conform to medical reality.

Over in Arkansas, a Republican state representative learned that his niece was carrying a fetus who lacked a vital organ, meaning that it would never develop normally and either die in utero or right after birth. Obstetrics lesson #2—severe fetal abnormalities happen. He changed his position on the Arkansas law saying, “Who are we to sit in judgment of these women making a decision between them and their physician and their God above?”

In a case that gained national attention, Kate Cox, a Texas mother of two, was pregnant with her third child when the fetus was diagnosed with a rare condition called Trisomy 18, which usually ends in miscarriage or in the immediate death of the baby. Continuing this doomed pregnancy put Cox at risk of uterine rupture and would make it difficult to carry another child. Obstetrics lesson #3—continuing to carry a doomed pregnancy can jeopardize future pregnancies. And yet the Texas Attorney General blocked an abortion for Cox and threatened to prosecute anyone who took care of her, and the Texas Supreme Court ruled that her condition did not meet the statutory exception for “life-threatening physical condition.”

So, she and her husband eventually went to New Mexico for the abortion.

Obstetrics lesson #4—miscarriages are very common, affecting approximately 30% of pregnancies. While many pass without much drama and women heal on their own—others cause complications that require what’s known as a D&C for dilation and curettage. This involves scraping bits of pregnancy tissue out of the uterus to avoid infection. When Christina Zielke of Maryland was told that her fetus had no heartbeat, she opted to wait to miscarry naturally.

While waiting, she and her husband traveled to Ohio for a wedding where she began to bleed so heavily that they had to go to an emergency room. A D&C would have stopped the bleeding, but in Ohio, doctors worried that they would be criminally charged under the new abortion laws and sent her home in spite of the fact that she was still bleeding heavily and in spite of the fact that doctors in Maryland had confirmed that her fetus had no heartbeat. Eventually her blood pressure dropped, and she passed out from loss of blood and returned to the hospital where a D&C finally stopped the bleeding.

These are but a few of the horror stories that will continue to mount in states with partial or total bans on abortion. As these stories accumulate, the issue will continue to have political punch. We have already seen the victory of pro-choice referenda in deep red conservative states like Kansas, Kentucky, Montana, and Ohio; and in swing states like Michigan and in deep blue states like California and Vermont. In an era where almost everything is viewed through a partisan lens, abortion rights transcend partisanship.

And more referenda are coming in November. The expectation is that at least some, if not most, of the pro-choice voters likely to be mobilized by the abortion issue will help Democrats up and down the ballot. As a result, Democratic campaigns are working hard to make sure the public knows that Republicans are responsible.

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innocentlymacabre · 2 months ago

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8 Brook Way currently held the form of a picturesque cottage, the likes of which can be found front and centre of just about every children’s book. It was quaint, simultaneously large and small, and somehow smelled wonderfully of fresh baked cookies even empty. It had taken on several forms over its extremely long life, several far more interesting than the one it currently donned, but its walls were presently abuzz with murmurs of excitement nonetheless.

8 Brook Way was no longer empty, and its new residents, Alberto Zecca and Isabella Autin, fawned over the shape it had taken for them. A tree, the type of which eluded every botanist that had ever attempted to classify it, stood guard from the backyard garden, its branches graciously extending to the perimeter, keeping time with the wind. It sang with the wind, hundreds of voices chiming in to make one, beautiful harmony that wafted throughout town, a siren call rumoured to be able to lift the spirits of those in mourning or even heal a broken heart. Ivy crawled across the bounding walls, weaving into its very make, and small, almost imperceptible paw prints and claw marks were pressed on top. The ivy snaked and stretched underground, far further down than anyone had ever explored, secrets resting on its every strand.

8 Brook Way was the only house in its vicinity, forming a sort of block of its own, and Brook Way was the closest street to the house, rather than the one it was on. The actual Brook Way skipped the number eight, an oddity that had led to several confused new postmen. Alberto and Isabella didn”t mind the confusion in the slightest – in fact, Alberto said it was one of the endless positives that came with the house.

Having moved in only a few hours ago, the pair were lounging on a chesterfield sofa that came with the house, in the otherwise almost unfurnished living room. The full moon shone brilliantly through the glass wall opposite them, the silver light falling delicately on each surface. Beyond it lay a presently untended garden, the moon’s light dipping and diving between its weeds and many, many secrets that Number 8 couldn’t wait for the residents to uncover.

It seemed though, it would have to wait. Tonight, the residents stayed indoors, unknowingly nested amidst the liveliest walls in the house.

Due North: Two-Bite Episodes [2/]

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taglist in the replies. ask to be added/removed!

#due north: two-bite episodes #<- click for directory #writeblr #fantasy #fiction #short story #urban fantasy #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing #wtwcommunity #writeblr community #writeblrcafe #writeblrgarden

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sprachgefuehle · 6 months ago

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First of all: as someone who would also love some weird/obscure books that aren’t YA, when you have a list would you be comfortable posting the recs you’ve gotten?

Secondly:

Hag-Seed, by Margaret Atwood. Retelling of Shakespeare’s Tempest. Really good.

American Gods, Neil gaiman. Long, kind of dense, good fantasy.

Stories, a short story collection edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio.

Hamnet, Maggie O’Farrell

Watership Down, Richard Adams

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, Becky Chambers

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson

The Female Persuasion, Meg Wolitzer

Drive Your Plow over the Bones Of the Dead, Olga Tokarczuk

People of the Book, Geraldine brooks

Dogsbody, Dianna Wynne Jones

The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho

World War Z, Max Brooks (no really)

The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss—I’m genuinely unsure if this one counts as YA or not, but I came to it as an adult reader well past my YA phase and loved it, and it does not “feel” like a YA novel, so I’m including it. I’ll warn that it is the first of two books published in a proposed trilogy, and the third one has been stalled for like ten years, but genuinely I think it is worth a read even if the trilogy is never finished.

Ladies of the Rachmaninoff Eyes, Henry van Dyke—I read this recently when I got it in a subscription box that focuses on reprints of older, out of print books the editors think deserve more circulation than they’ve gotten. I enjoyed it. Ex-Wife by Ursula Parrott was in the same box, though I haven’t read that one yet.

Ah sorry, your ask must have slipped past me in my notifs! I don't really have a list but almost everyone added their recs in the notes, so you can find all of them there.

Out of those, I just read Schwarzenberg by Stefan Heym. It might be a bit dry for some people but it was just right up my alley and I will be thinking about it for some time for sure. And currently I am reading Perdido Street Station by China Miévielle. Final judgement is still pending but it does fall into the vague genre category of Weird Fiction and so far I like it.

And thanks for your recs of course!

#ask #savage-magpie

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 12 hours ago

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Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 6

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: Blood, panic attack, baby loss.

Chapter Summary: The reader's world collides with her soulmates. Literally. And what's up with Sam.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome honey.” The cashier replied. Soul friends with the owner of the Airbnb you were staying in, the cashier and her husband were owners of the hardware store and had given you a hefty discount. Her husband appeared from the back of the store to let you know that the paint Annemarie had settled on after much debate would arrive on Monday and he’d personally deliver it.

Everyone seemed to know each other and although in the past you weren’t sure small towns were your thing, there was something kind and heart-warming about Brook Town and how everyone looked out for each other. You felt your soulmate letters tingle and automatically rubbed at the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. The rumble of motorbikes brought a tightening to your chest.

“You OK hun?” Asked the cashier, and you wondered then how accepting the town would be of a triad.

“Ermmmm.” You replied unsure. You were tempted to ask the couple who now stood watching as you fidgeted and poked at your letters. You went to speak but changed your mind as the door opened and a redhead woman walked in. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was as she greeted the owners like old friends. You took the moment to slip away, not knowing that she turned towards you to say hello only to find you slipping through the door.

You were completely unaware that she wasn’t far behind you.

A little further down the street…….

“How’s it feel?” Asked Clint.

“Itchy.” Steve replied.

“Ok so she’s here somewhere. Did you feel it yesterday? When Buck saw her?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t say anything right away. I thought it was the shirt.”

“So what we just wait here? Hope she walks past?” Bucky asked, his tone frustrated.

“No, Natasha is going to dip in and out the stores to see if she can see her or the friend.” Clint confirmed. “Were you even paying attention?”

“I’m not one of your kids Clint.” Bucky snarked.

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“No OK!!! Because I can’t think straight! What if we’re wrong! What if it’s not her? What if she doesn’t want us? What if she doesn’t want me?” Bucky snapped, his voice full and busting with emotion.

“Easy bud. Take a breath.” Spoke Clint calmly.

“We won’t know unless we speak to her.” Steve added.

“Fine, but you can do the talking.”

“Is that a good idea? You know he can’t talk to women.” Came a new voice, as Sam approached and joined the conversation.

“Any luck?” Asked Steve.

“Well, if Nat has the car details right she’s parked near the pie shop.” Sam answered. Steve watched as Sam rubbed at his own soulmate letters but before he had chance to remark he felt his own arm grow warmer and the urge to scratch and rub at it became uncontrollable. He pulled at his jacket, trying to grant himself some relief. He stopped himself as he saw Bucky’s posture change from the corner of his eye. Changing from perching on his bike to straight and upright, the only other movement the rubbing of his chest.

“Steve?” His voice said, almost broken and he nudged his head forward.

Steve followed his line of sight and set his eyes on you. You were looking around a slight panicked look in your eyes. Your hands were full of DIY supplies and you had a bag across your body that Steve guessed was holding your keys, cash and whatever else girls carried around. You were wearing cut off jean shorts, a fitted tshirt with a scoop neck that had Steve eyes trailing to your cleavage. His eyes scanned back up as he took in the rest of your appearance. Your hair was pulled into a messy bun as wisps of it framed your face and fell around your sunglasses, and he found himself wondering what colour your eyes were.

He started gravitating towards you. Bucky went to follow but stopped himself. Clint discreetly pulled out his phone and started to record what he hoped would be a special moment and also knowing that his wife and soulmate, Laura, wouldn’t want to miss this.

You continued to look around as Steve moved towards you. Glancing behind, you felt like you were being followed. Was it the biker from yesterday? Your arm burned and your chest grew tighter.

You heard a voice calling out a name and turned back only to hit something hard and warm. You fell backwards quickly and landed on the pavement. You hit your elbow and let out a yelp, your left side taking the brunt of the fall. There was quickly warm hands on you and a voice close to your ear.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Warmth spread where his hands touched you and you felt the tightness in your chest ease. You were pulled to your feet.

“My things?” You said confused, glancing down at your shopping bags sprawled out along the pavement.

“I’ll grab them. Are you OK sweetie?” The redhead from earlier asked as she came into your line of sight, smiling softly at you.

“No, she’s not.” A new voice, gruff and annoyed. “You absolute idiot Stevie.”

“You distracted me jerk.”

“So what? You can’t watch where you’re damn going?”

“Walk her over here. I’ll get the kit.” Another voice.

You were guided towards a wooden bench and eased down. There was a rustling as the bags were placed beside you. The redhead appeared and knelt in front of you, placing her hand on yours.

“Hey, are you OK?”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. She was quickly joined by someone else at her side.

“Hey, I’m Sam, is it OK if I take a look at you?”

“What?”

“Can I take a look at you?”

“You’re bleeding sweetie.” The redhead again. What? You were bleeding? You couldn’t think straight with your soulmate letters on fire. You looked down to see the side of your knee grazed and there was blood running down your finger tips. You went to move your elbow but it flashed with pain and you let out a hiss.

“Can I get you cleaned up?”

You nodded.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what happened.” You said.

“Well you see this big blonde idiot here?” The redhead pointed at one of the bikers who seemed to be bickering with his friend. You nodded. “Well he was distracted by the dark and brooding idiot and he walked into you.”

“I think I might have walked into him too.” You replied, recognising the brunette from the night before.

“Well, that might be my fault. I was following you, probably distracted you.”

So you were being followed.

“I’m not sure it was just that.” You replied looking at the blonde and brunette bikers, who were now being reprimanded by another. He looked a year or two older than them and had dark blonde hair.

“I’m just gonna pop a Band-Aid on your knee OK? Keep it clean.”

You nodded.

“Thank you Sam. You did say your name was Sam right?”

“Yeah, and this here is Natasha.”

“Hi. Thanks for grabbing my things. Well, they’re my friends. She’s having a baby.”

“Is that why you were at the hospital last night?” Natasha asked.

“How do you know that?”

How long had she been following you? You honestly thought you were more observant than that.

“I was dropping off some donations for the children’s ward and saw you guys coming out.”

Your eyes narrowed at her in suspicion but before you had chance to answer your mind wandered to Ryan.

“Shit.”

“Are you OK?” The blonde was now beside you.

“No, she’s not you damn punk.”

“My friend. He’ll wonder where I am.” You pulled at your bag.

“Here. Let me help.” Natasha offered. You admitted defeat as your elbow stung again and let her pull your phone from your bag. She held it in front of you to unlock it.

“Is it Ryan? You have three missed calls from him.”

You nodded. You watched as she tapped at your phone. You heard Ryan pick up, yelling about you not answering. Natasha introduced herself and start to explain what had happened, as your attention was drawn back to Sam.

“It might be best if we cut the sleeve baby girl. It’s ripped on the elbow but not enough for me to clean it properly and get a dressing on it. You might even need a couple of stitches.”

There was a flurry of voices.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” “Fucking idiot.” “You’re both idiots.”

“Ignore them. Is that OK? If I cut it?”

You nodded. Sam took the small scissors from the first aid kit that you now found he’d placed at your feet and started to cut slowly from the cuff of your sleeve and upwards. Feeling Steve edge closer a wave of panic spread through you as the burning of your arm grew worse. There was movement behind you and you became aware that Bucky was now standing behind the bench, watching Sam closely. You tilted your arm towards yourself, gritting your teeth at the sting of the open wound. You hoped to play it off as giving Sam more access to your elbow but the way he side eyed you, he knew what you were doing.

You felt your body get warmer at the blonde and brunettes presence. Is spontaneous combustion a thing? Were you going to be sick? Is it normal to feel like this? You started to feel woozy and you swayed a little. You started to see spots in the corners of your eyes.

“Sweetie, drink this.” Natasha pushed a bottle of water towards you and helped you hold it when she noticed your hand shaking. “You two back up now.”

“Not a chance.” “I want to be close to her.”

“You’re overwhelming her guys back up, and don’t huff at me. As someone who’s experienced the first part of the soulmate bond snap into place I know what it feels like. You know what it feels like right now. She’s got it twice over. Take a step back before she passes out.”

“Clint’s right. Her pulse is racing.”

“I don’t like blood.” You whisper to Sam as you sway some more.

“OK baby girl. I’m gonna put a dressing on it now but I think you’re gonna need a stitch or two. Then I’ll wipe all the blood off OK.”

“I need to go. My friend.”

“He’s going to come find us.” Natasha reassured you, slipping your phone back into your bag.

Sam continued to work on the gash on your elbow and you found yourself staring past him at a spot on the floor. A dozen questions sped through your head and you started to spiral.

Would they want you? Are they ok with sharing? Do they have another soulmate too? Are they with her already? Or him? Could be a him? Are they together? How does it work? Don’t ask Ryan that, he’ll draw you another picture. Am I gonna be sick? I might be? Don’t be sick on Sam. Ryan might like this Sam guy. I need to find Ry. I need to get the hospital. Annemarie. The baby. Blood. My baby.

“Sweetheart, come back to us?” The blonde’s voice spoke softly to you.

“Baby girl, bloods nearly all gone.”

“Let me see Sam.”

“Maybe give her a minute.”

“Sam.”

Sam seemed to move back a little and started to look around, distracted as you watched him starting to pull at the sleeve of his leather jacket and Natasha’s soft reassuring squeezing of your hand, you didn’t notice Steve moving closer.

But you knew the moment he touched you. Warmth spread from where he held your wrist, his callous hands moving softly until his thumb carefully brushed over your letters.

“It’s you.” He whispered. He glanced up at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling with emotion.

A million questions ran through your mind as your letters burned, and you felt the brunette learn over the back of the bench, invading your space. Warmth spread where his body briefly touched yours. His need to see the letters for himself making him edge closer.

The blonde spoke again as he ran his thumb over your letters repeatedly.

“S.G.R. J.B.B. Steve Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes.”

You felt the one behind you let out a shuddered breath.

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You tried again but still nothing. Confusion and panic spread over you. You’d found your soulmate. Soulmates. Both of them. In this little town. You glanced around to see the friend that had told them both off had his phone in his hand. Was he recording you? You looked around again and found Natasha still holding your other hand. Sam was now on his feet looking around himself. You scanned the people passing by and noticed a few had stopped to watch what was going on, nudging and pointing and certainly not discreet.

“I, erm, I don’t know.”

The blonde frowned at you and before you knew what was happening or what you were doing you were on your feet, bags in hand and running.

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @spookyparadisesheep @thezombieprostitute @aiva-gwen-aers

#avengers au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel au #soulmates #soulmate au #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #avengers biker au #biker au

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annikin-annotates · 5 months ago

Text

Family Ties Part 3

Hello my darlings, long time no see! Sorry for the delayed release of this chapter, University took up all of my time from the start till the very end of term (as it does). But I'm finally on break, which means for the next few weeks I can start putting out some oneshots and more chapters for both My Baldurs Gate III fics as well as my HotD fics. So keep an eye out! Love you all, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also! Let me know if you would like to be added to any taglists!

Word Count: 4,347

Content Warning: Blood, Minor character death.

Juniper’s Pov

The air of Baldur’s Gate was acrid compared to the air of the grove where she grew up. While yes, it was not the most delightful smell - it was an animal smell, fresh grass and the earthiness of mud underfoot, but it smelled like home. Unlike the combination of sour ale, the contents of someone's stomach heaved up on the sidewalk and strong perfume. Juniper scrunched her nose and pressed onward, following the crumpled map of the city she managed to snatch from an unsuspecting tourist - she hoped they hadn’t gotten too lost without it.

She followed the map to the best of her abilities through the winding streets, hitting a few dead ends before finally reaching the Upper City. High stone walls and menacing wrought iron gates separated the Upper and Lower parts of the city; Juniper rolled her eyes, how original. There were guards positioned at either side of the gate checking everyone who went through the gate, turning away those who didn’t belong.

She took a slow, steadying breath before pressing forward once more, surely it wouldn’t be too hard to slip in with a crowd, to take advantage of the chaos that seemed to be daily life here. She had managed to slip through the gates with a crowd of tieflings, the sigh of relief that came out of her mouth was immediately sucked into her mouth again when a gruff voice called out to her “Hey! You there, girl!”.

She cringed, her tail dipping between her legs, she turned to face the guard behind her with a smile. “Yes?” she answered, batting her eyelashes. Despite her tail hiding between her legs like the traitor it was, she kept a relaxed posture; she lifted her chin to meet the guards eyes, not that she could see much through the ridiculous helmet he wore.

He held out his hand expectantly. “I need to see your travel pass to be in the Upper City,” he huffed, her stomach dropped - she didn’t have a travel pass. No matter, she had a foolproof plan that always worked on sentries, just by combining two things they fear most: a woman’s hysteria and a sick family member.

Tears immediately began to prick at the corners of her eyes, glazing over like a babbling brook over a mossy stone. “I’m so sorry! M-My mother is very sick a-a-and none of the apothecaries in the Lower City carry the herb I need to make her a drought to ease her cough and I thought that -” she rambled.

He held a hand up, seemingly very uncomfortable about the crying tiefling that stood in front of him. “Alright - fine, just get what you need and get out of here,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, shooing her off with a wave of his large hand.

“Oh thank you sir, you are too kind,” she said as she frantically wiped the crocodile tears from her face before turning on her heels to head further into the city. She smirked to herself, looking at her surroundings, tears worked every time. Now her only mission was to get herself safely to her uncle Wyll’s estate - he wasn’t really her uncle, just as Halsin wasn’t really her father. But they had been the only consistent familial presence she had ever known, Halsin had taken her in after Wyll brought her to him.

Her mother had given her up, for the greater good they had told her, she thought that it was horseshit but who was she to question the ideals of a mother who didn’t want her. They had not kept her ancestry a secret from her either, though she was sure she would have figured it out sooner or later, you know - with the ever present gnawing hunger for blood and all. But she made a promise to herself that she would never drink the blood of anything, animal or otherwise.

She shook the bitter thought from her head; it was a glorious day, she was in a city with lots of places to explore and only a few hours to do it all in. She shifted her worn leather satchel towards the front of her, there were bound to be other sticky fingered outlanders in the city and she was not about to fall for any tricks.

Juniper’s first call was to find an Inn to spend the night, a good night’s rest and a chance to bathe would do her good, the last thing she wanted was to darken Wyll’s doorstep looking like a gutter rat. It hadn’t taken her long to find an inn, between following the map and catching the eyes of a few fellow Tieflings who had told her she looked rather lost. They pointed her in the direction of an inn called The Countess, a stunning building with a mahogany facade and plants that hung from large pots, with ferns draping over the edges.

The inside was bursting with chatter, laughter bubbling through the room like frothing ale over the side of a pint glass. It was the opposite of the grove, which was almost always reverent in its silence, only ever broken by the baying of animals. She cringed as a man who had clearly over indulged gave an offkey rendition of the Bitch Queen’s shanties, at least oxen could hold a tune.

She managed to cross through the crowd with a never ending stream of excuse me’s and coming through’s. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a small gap at the bar, squeezing herself between two drunken patrons flagging the tired looking barmaid down with a polite smile. She gave her a nod motioning to stay where she was as she finished pouring a tankard of ale that was almost overflowing.

“A druid in these parts? What can I do you for?” she asked, a slender brow quirked, wiping her hands on the rag tucked into her worn leather belt. She was young, no older than she was, her wild hair was a deep shade of mahogany, dark except for when it caught the light, casting a warm mulberry tinted halo around her face. Grey eyes stared at her, thick lashes made her eyes look sultry, plump lips quirked into a kind smile. Her shoulders were broad but she was full of curves and softness, both strong and inviting in equal parts.

Juniper smiled back at her. “Is it that obvious?” she sighed as she leaned her arm on the counter, tail flicking behind her. “I was wondering if you had any rooms available?” she continued, eyes flicking to the barmaids lips for the briefest of moments before refocusing on her stormy eyes, the heat from her cheeks creeping up the tips of her ears.

Her laugh was melodical, like bird song in early spring. “I’ll tell you what, a room just opened up. I’ll let you have it for half the price - only because you looked like a lost puppy walking in here,” she replied, reaching under the counter for a key and pushing it across the counter towards her.

A grin spread across Juniper’s face, dimples on her cheeks standing proud, “Thank you, I really do appreciate it. Is there anything I can do to help cover the rest of the cost?”

The woman looked taken aback for a moment, as if she wasn’t used to being offered help so freely. She thought for a moment, a hand on her hip, before raising her pointer finger into the air “Actually! There's a rather vicious bluejay that keeps swooping patrons on the back terrace. Do you think you could give it a stern talking to?” she asked, her eyebrows raised, a light hearted challenge.

“I can certainly try!” Juniper nodded, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, the sharpness of her fangs digging into the plumpness of the inside of her lip. She followed the woman, first to her room to set down her pack and then to the back terrace to meet the disgruntled bird.

—

It was no surprise to her that she found herself out wandering the streets, her head turned towards the sky; the amount of stars were halved thanks to the light pollution of all the street lamps. She could see clouds rolling in from the sea, lightning crackling through the sky illuminating the menacing shade of green the clouds had turned.

She thought that some air would clear her head and slake the ravenous beast that made home beneath her skin. It had taken three hearty portions of stew to take the edge off, only for it to come back with such force it had her doubling over in agony. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her head swam with overlapping thoughts - none of which she could make out; it was like looking at a reflection in an angry tide.

It felt as though bramble had taken root in her stomach, poking and prodding with each step she took. Her skin shimmered with a thin sheen of sweat, each breath she took was pure torture. Even now, out in the open, she could smell the life blood humming in every creature she passed, each pulsing vein made her mouth salivate. At least out in the wilds she could get away, she was used to peacefully wandering off for a stroll. There was no escape here, everywhere she turned there were more people - and more blood ripe for the taking.

It was agony.

She was no stranger to the bouts of bloodlust, she was not stupid enough to not have coping mechanisms but she couldn’t think, couldn’t focus - gods, she could barely breathe. Her hands shook with every step she took, it was overwhelming in its intensity. Perhaps she could try it, just once. Nobody would ever know. The thought alone was enough to open the flood gates to the darkest part of herself, sending her into a torrent of guilt.

She had sworn off blood and vowed that she would never become a bloodthirsty beast like her parents. And now of all times for her mind to be consumed with that insatiable hunger when she needed to not draw attention was infuriating. To go back on the oath she made to herself would surely mean the end of things - Halsin and Wyll’s good graces among them.

But then again, she had been so good all these years, she deserved this - she deserved a taste of what life could give. Juniper shook her head, no, absolutely not. She could handle this, she would be fine. Her vow was not up for discussion nor was it up for debate; especially not with the ugliest part of her. She turned back towards the Inn; hopefully a cold soak and rest would stave off the worst of it, all will be well in the morning, as it usually was.

It was close to the wee hours of the morning when she returned to the Inn, the light significantly dimmer than when she left. The young woman from earlier - Elona- was placing the last of the wooden chairs atop perfectly polished table tops. Their eyes caught each other before Juniper had a chance to sneak up stairs to her room, Juniper fought the urge to cower like a pet that had been caught in the act.

Elona waved her over, plopping down into one of the booths that lined the mahogany walls, “I would ask if you would like something to eat, but you polished off the last of the stew before you left.” Her voice made Juniper’s heart flutter and her stomach twist in a way she had never felt before; she was no stranger to crushes, but this was more than that - far more.

Juniper smiled as she made her way behind the bar, pinching a bottle of wine that she hoped wouldn’t taste like vinegar alongside two glasses. She set the bottle and two glasses down on the table before sitting across from her, creating a barrier between them. The wine was sweet and the conversation flowed easily between them; they spoke about all things, where they grew up, their families and what they aspired to be when they were younger.

It was when Elona shimmied into Juniper’s side of the booth that the conversation changed, Elona was mere inches away from her now. Juniper swallowed thickly, she was quite literally backed against a wall, it wasn’t as if she didn’t think Elona was pretty, she was stunning - the very image of a goddess, destined to bring her to ruin, she was dangerous to be around.

Something stirred in the very depths of her stomach, like a beast reawakening from its slumber; stretching its claws and yawing, displaying its jagged maw. Juniper found herself not in control of her own body as she took both of Elona’s hands in her own, motioning for her to slide out of the booth. From there Juniper took the lead, guiding her up the stairs to her room and closing the door behind them.

They descended upon each other the moment they were alone; Juniper placed delicate kisses along the column of Elona’s throat, feeling her pulse point flutter rapidly against her lips. A purr rumbled deep within Juniper’s chest at the gasp she elicited from Elona, as she backed her towards the bed, pulling away from her when she reached the edge. “Do you want this?” Juniper asked, her heart beating in her throat.

“More than anything,” Elona replied, her stormy grey eyes looking up at Juniper through thick lashes. If Elona was a tempest that sent ships and crew sailing into their demise, she was a willing captain, if it meant that she would place her hands upon her to drag her under. Juniper placed Elona onto the covers gently, straddling her hips. She began to place open mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat, a searing trail left in her wake.

The way Elona’s breath hitched in her throat as her hands twisted into the front of Juniper’s shirt only served to spurn her on, grazing the flats of her teeth over Elona’s pulse point. She squealed in delight, Juniper couldn’t disguise the airy laughter that bubbled from her as she placed another kiss to her pulse point before pausing.

Juniper sat back on her haunches, fingertips ghosting along the scooped neckline of Elona’s shirt, her thumb stilling over the thrumming artery. “Are you alright, Juniper?” Elona asked, her brows furrowed with worry “If you don’t want -”

Juniper cut her off, swallowing thickly. “Of course I do, do you trust me?” Juniper asked her, the back of her hand tracing her jawline as Elona nodded. She brushed Elonas dark hair over her shoulder, fanning out in a dark halo behind her. Juniper’s fingertips grazed her soft skin, leaving sparks in their wake. Juniper placed an open mouthed kiss at the junction of Elona’s neck and shoulder, she tilted her head to the side to allow Juniper better access, her eyes fluttering closed at the proximity of her.

Juniper’s jade eyes were blown wide with lust as she took in the scent of her; ginger, chamomile and smoke. Gods she wanted her, needed her like one needs air, without her she would suffocate - crushed under the weight of her own want. She needed to feel every part of her, to touch her, gods to taste her.

Without warning, Juniper ran the flat of her tongue across the pulse point of Elona’s neck, a muffled cry tore through Elona as the sharpness of Juniper’s fangs sank into her flesh. She withdrew her fangs and ran her tongue across the wounds repeatedly, keeping the flow of blood constant. What flooded her mouth was more akin to ambrosia; liquid life, searing in its heat and near endless in its flow.

Elona started to struggle against her, her pulse starting to slow and Juniper realised that she couldn’t pull herself away. In fact, she was actively ignoring Elona’s futile attempts to stop her. She pulled her weak form closer to her chest, her clawed hand entwined in her hair to cradle her head.

All she could hear was that beast inside of her crying out for more as it lapped at the ichor sliding down her throat. It was when she realised that Elona had stopped struggling against her entirely that she found the strength to pull herself away - to ground herself back in reality.

And what a harsh reality she came back to.

She gasped, tumbling from the bed. Elona laid before her, deathly pale, her eyes dulled; there was no rise and fall of her chest, no shine to her hair; nothing. Elona was dead. And Juniper had killed her, there would forever be innocent blood on her hands, “I’m sorry, oh gods - Elona I’m so sorry, what have I done?” she weeped.

Guilt wracked her body, its talons piercing into the very sinews of her heart. This was all her fault, she had led this poor, poor woman to her death; she extinguished a light that this world needed - all for the sake of her own selfishness. She regretted ever setting foot in this gods-damned hellspit, she would pack her belongings and return to the grove; hopefully in a decade she would forget that this mess ever happened.

She looked back to Elona’s body, lifeless and bloodstained, she couldn’t leave her like that; legs half hanging off the bed frame. Juniper pulled herself up off the floor “I know that you can’t hear me, but I’m going to make you more comfortable,” she whispered, voice wavering as she lifted her legs onto the bed. She continued on like that, telling Elona what she was doing as she repositioned her and cleaned her wounds, apologies tumbled from her lips like prayers.

Juniper replaced her sullied shirt with a fresh one from her pack, tossing the dirty one; alongside the bloody cloths into the hearth on the main floor of the tap room, watching them burn. Only after a few minutes of solemn silence did she decide to press forward, opening the mahogany door to the quiet streets of the city.

She shifted her pack to sit more comfortably on her shoulder, eyes trained on the puddles on the street, maybe one might be deep enough to swallow me whole and save me from my suffering. She had been too preoccupied with the metaphorical blood that stained her hands to notice movement behind her, only the pain that bloomed from her temple as the world faded from focus.

The world came into focus again, she was staring at marble floors; she tried to crane her neck to look at anything else in the room but her head began to swim. Cool hands gripped her knees tightly, a bony shoulder digging into her stomach. Her fingers came into contact with what she assumed was blood as she touched her temple, throbbing pain reverberating through her skull, the world grew dark once more.

The only time she drank blood is when she murders an innocent woman and is subsequently murdered in retaliation, swift justice she’d say.

Her heart was a buoy that leapt into her throat and sank into the depths of her stomach with each wave of consciousness she crested. Her attacker unceremoniously dumped her from the bony confines of his shoulder, allowing her to collide with the marble tiles hard enough that she was sure would leave a bruise. Juniper let out a groan as she began to push herself onto her hand and knees; only to have a foot make contact with the base of her spine, sending her splaying out onto the floor once more. So much for Baldurian hospitality.

Juniper could hear the shuffling of footsteps switching to clacking as they met the marble tile that she had found herself well acquainted with. The air became thick as if she was trying to separate the oxygen from within water; it put her whole body on edge as she froze, willing herself to meld into the tile.

“And what might this be?” A male voice asked, the phrasing of the question was light, but his tone had an edge that sent shivers down her spine. Though she did her best to internalise her panic, to keep her heartbeat steady and not allow the fear that was trying its best to claw its way through her insides. She could get out of this, she just needed to think.

She could feel how her abductor's leg tensed as he spoke, like an animal preparing to be struck; it made her stomach churn; she was not safe here. “An unattended Spawn from another vampire lord, your Highness. I found it wandering the streets not too far from the Countess,” he responded, his voice wavering in fear. It? Your Highness? Wherever she was, she was a particularly unwelcome interloper.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Let me look at it,” ‘his Highness’ urged, his tone exasperated and clearly not interested. Juniper was rather tired of being referred to as an ‘it’, she had opened her mouth to issue the lot of them a signature witty reply. But she was pulled to her feet abruptly, letting out a disgruntled yelp as her captors' nails dug painfully into her scalp.

Her eyes were met with the sight of two people, a slender male elf with eyes reminiscent of rubies; or the deep crimson of spilt blood. And a Tiefling woman that stood a few paces behind him, she had dark hair that fell in curls to her waist and the most decadent dress she had ever seen. There was something that she couldn’t place with her, an emotion in her eyes that clouded them like fog in a valley.

The silver haired elf scrunched his nose at Juniper, as if her very presence was an assault on his senses; she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Bile began clawing its way up her throat, the longer she looked at him the more she began to lose control of her senses; her tail curling to hide between her legs. She had begun to compile what she would say to them, that her father was a powerful vampire lord that would lay waste to the lot of them if a single hair on her head was harmed.

His mouth opened to speak, only to be cut short by glass smashing on marble, remnants of crystal twinkling across the floor like stardust. His head snapped to the woman behind him, poised to reprimand her, when he stopped himself; his features softening. He turned back to Juniper - more specifically the servant that had her in an ironclad grip, expression shifting into an incandescent rage by the likes she had never seen before.

“Release her this instant,” Astarion hissed to the man behind her, who released her so quickly it sent her fumbling forward towards the tiles, only for her to be caught at the last moment by Astarion. “I sincerely apologise my dear -” He was about halfway through his sentence before she was pulled into a hug so tight it forced the air from her lungs, it was over before she even had a chance to process it.

Astarion looked to the Tiefling, who was now nervously smoothing her hands down the fine brocade of her dress, and then back to her, a well practised smile on his lips. “Forgive my wife, you remind her of someone we lost a long time ago,” he said softly, his eyes were also leagues away; whoever they lost must have been dear to the both of them.

He motioned for two servants as they emerged from the very shadows of the room. A woman guided his wife who was now sobbing out of the large room they were in, while the other stopped a few paces from Juniper, his hands neatly folded behind his back.

Silence hung between them for a moment, before he began to speak again. “How about you stay here for the night, it's rather unsafe for a young woman to be out alone so late, even for a blood thirsty one such as yourself,” his eyes flickered with something akin to delight. Her stomach twisted painfully; something was very very wrong here, and she had no intentions on finding out what it was.

“It’s fine, truly. I have lodgings at The Countess, my friend will surely be looking for me by now,” she lied, well, not a lie exactly - a half truth she supposed; she did have lodgings at The Countess and people would be looking for her come morning.

He shook his head. “Then your friend would be truly thankful that you found lodgings here for the night,” he argued, the beginnings of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips, he had won and he knew it. The other servant inched toward her; she realised that the statement was less of an offer and more an order, and she was severely out ranked, she had no choice but to concede.

She gave him a tight lipped smile and a curt nod. “Of course, my lord,” she replied, acquiescing to the servant who now led her back through the foyer and up the grand staircase. His grip on her arm was vice-like, as if he was a cat and she was the fat, tasty mouse he had caught for dinner.

Her room was grand, a bed large enough for at least three people to comfortably lay in, a small ensuite with a stunning claw foot tub in the centre of the room. One thing that did stick out as rather strange to her was that there were no windows in the room, the only entry point was the door to the room itself. Juniper walked back over to the door knob and turned it a little, only to be met with the stiff jiggle of a locked door.

Fuck.

Thank you for reading! Please take a moment to comment or reblog my work, it brightens my day and makes sure other people see it!

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #astarion angst #astaion x oc #astarion fanfic #astarion ancunnin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 tav #astarion my beloved #f!reader x ascended astarion #f!reader x astarion

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thebunnednun · 6 months ago

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Hi i really loved your sabo writing! Can i get second asks? I want to ask this can i get another Sabo x Strawhat pirate reader who ate the Tori Tori No Mi model Phoenix please? Thank you again! You're amazing!😊

Gone Fishing! Sabo x Sea creature Straw-Hat! Reader (Part 2)

You asked and you shall receive, I love writing your requests!! I hope you like this as much as I do.

I found the art right here.

This is the second and final installment.

Link to part 1.

This was a request from my Follower Fridays! If you have a character or story in mind, go ahead and ask because my requests are open!

This steam punk king can get it.

On with the show!!~ --------------------------Part 2: The Fires of Love------------------------

The carnival was a vibrant explosion of color and sound. Streamers and flags flapped in the gentle breeze, and the air was filled with the enticing scents of popcorn, cotton candy, and sizzling street food. Stalls lined the sandy pathways, each offering a unique game or treat. There were games of chance, skill tests, and whimsical rides that spun and twirled, all accompanied by the lively music of a merry-go-round.

Luffy raced from stall to stall, eyes wide with excitement as he tried his hand at various games, winning a giant stuffed bear that he proudly paraded around. Zoro, with his usual sense of direction, somehow ended up in a fortune teller's tent and emerged looking more confused than ever. Nami and Robin perused the shops, Nami bargaining for trinkets while Robin admired the array of rare books on display. Sanji was engrossed in a cooking contest, dazzling the judges with his culinary skills, while Franky marveled at the mechanical rides, making mental notes for future inventions. Brook entertained a crowd with his violin, his music adding to the festive atmosphere. Chopper and Usopp darted between rides, laughing and cheering each other on.

Ace and Jinbei, on the other hand, had found themselves in the middle of an eating contest. With tables piled high with various delicacies, the two had eagerly signed up, determined to out-eat each other. Jinbei, with his large frame and seasoned palate, was a formidable opponent. His calm demeanor and steady pace contrasted sharply with Ace's fiery enthusiasm and competitive spirit.

"Come on, Ace!" Luffy cheered from the sidelines, waving his arms. "You can do it!"

Ace, cheeks stuffed with food, gave Luffy a thumbs-up before turning his attention back to the plates before him. "You too, Jinbei!" he managed to mumble through a mouthful.

Jinbei chuckled, nodding appreciatively at the encouragement. "This is quite enjoyable," he said, swallowing a large bite. "But don't think I'll go easy on you, Ace."

Ace grinned, swallowing his food and grabbing another plate. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As the group meandered through the colorful stalls and exciting rides, [Name] found herself walking alongside Sabo. The two had grown closer since their fishing escapade, and there was a comfortable camaraderie between them. [Name] couldn't help but steal glances at Sabo, appreciating his relaxed demeanor and the warmth in his eyes.

"Hey, [Name], let's check out the Tunnel of Love!" Luffy shouted, his voice full of mischief as he pointed towards the ride. The ride's entrance was adorned with pink and red hearts, and small boats gently bobbed in the water, waiting for passengers.

[Name] rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "You just want an excuse to cause trouble, don't you?"

Luffy grinned widely, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Maybe! But it could be fun."

Before [Name] could protest, Nami and Robin nudged her towards the ride. "Go on," Nami urged, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's just a ride. What's the harm?"

Sabo chuckled, extending his hand to [Name]. "Shall we?"

With a playful roll of her eyes, [Name] took his hand. "Alright, alright. Let's go."

As they settled into the small boat, the Tunnel of Love's entrance loomed before them, shrouded in darkness. The boat drifted forward, and the ambient sounds of the carnival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle lapping of water against the sides of the tunnel.

Inside, the tunnel was dimly lit, the soft glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows on the walls. The romantic atmosphere was almost overwhelming, and [Name] felt a blush creep up her cheeks. Sabo, for his part, seemed equally affected, though he hid it behind a gentle smile.

"Never thought I'd find myself in a place like this," Sabo remarked, his voice low and warm.

[Name] laughed softly. "Me neither. But it's... nice."

The boat drifted slowly into the dimly lit Tunnel of Love, the entrance framed by twinkling fairy lights and garlands of flowers. The gentle lapping of the water and the soft strains of romantic music created an intimate atmosphere. [Name] felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as she sat beside Sabo, their hands almost but not quite touching on the edge of the boat.

Inside, the tunnel was a whimsical display of romantic scenes. Mannequins of couples danced under canopies of roses, and glowing lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, enchanting glow. Heart-shaped arches and ivy-covered walls added to the charm.

"So, uh, quite romantic, huh?" Sabo said, trying to sound casual but his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

[Name] chuckled softly. You looked at the big eyed cupids staring down at you overhead. "Yeah, definitely not forced. It's... cute."

Sabo glanced at you, his smile a little shy. "You look really pretty in this light."

You felt your cheeks heat up. "Thanks, Sabo. You clean up pretty well yourself."

He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face. "Well, I figured I should try to match the ambiance, you know?"

They laughed together, the sound echoing softly in the enclosed space. As the boat rounded a corner, they came upon a scene with fireflies in jars, their tiny lights flickering like stars in the darkness.

"Those fireflies remind me of your powers," Sabo said, his eyes reflecting the gentle light. "Bright and beautiful."

You smiled, touched by his words. "Thanks, Sabo. That means a lot coming from you."

There was a brief, comfortable silence as they watched the fireflies. The boat continued its gentle journey, and they came across a scene of two birds, one perched on a branch and the other flying towards it, wings outstretched.

"Kind of like us, isn't it?" Sabo mused. "You're always soaring, and I'm... well, trying to catch up."

You laughed softly. "I think you're doing a great job. Besides, sometimes it's nice to have someone to share the sky with."

Sabo's smile widened. "I'd like that. Sharing the sky with you, I mean."

As the boat moved deeper into the tunnel, the scenes became more whimsical. There was a carousel with ornate horses, their reflections shimmering on the water, and a pair of swans gliding gracefully beside the boat. The romantic setting seemed to bring them closer, both physically and emotionally.

"Can I ask you something?" Sabo said, his tone more serious.

"Of course," you replied, curious.

"How do you balance your powers with who you are? I mean, being part ocean creature and having fire abilities... it must be challenging."

You thought for a moment, then nodded. "It is, sometimes. But I see it as part of what makes me unique. It's not always easy, but it's who I am."

Sabo looked at you with admiration. "That's one of the things I find most interesting about you. You're full of surprises, and you embrace them."

You felt a warm flutter in your chest at his words. "Thanks, Sabo. That means a lot."

Their moment of tranquility was abruptly shattered when the boat jerked to a halt. The gentle current that had been guiding them through the tunnel had ceased, leaving them stranded in the middle of the ride. With that said, the minimal light was also shut off leaving you in total darkness. You reached for Sabo's hand only to find him already squeezing yours.

"Uh-oh," Sabo muttered, glancing around. "Looks like we're stuck."

In the darkness, they heard snickering. "Luffy," You groaned, immediately recognizing the sound. "I bet this is his doing."

Before they could devise a plan, the walls of the tunnel echoed with the sounds of chaos. Zoro's voice boomed, trying to navigate the labyrinthine ride. "Where the hell am I? This place is a maze!"

Chopper and Usopp were laughing somewhere nearby, clearly enjoying their mischief. "We thought we'd help you two out," Chopper called out innocently, though his giggles betrayed his true intentions.

Robin's voice floated over, calm and amused. "Our crew decided to play matchmaker."

With a resigned sigh, You squinted and tried to look at Sabo. "I guess we'll have to find our way out ourselves."

Sabo grinned. "Or we could just enjoy the ride while we wait for them to fix their mess."

[Name] smirked. "Or we could light our own way out." You closed your eyes, concentrating on the powers granted to you by the 'Tori Tori No Mi, Model': Phoenix. In a flash, vibrant blue flames enveloped your left hand, illuminating the tunnel with an ethereal glow.

Sabo watched in awe, his admiration for You growing. "You never cease to amaze me," he said softly. Feeling inspired, he also used his 'Mera Mera no Mi' to ignite his left hand.

You chuckled. "It is kind of funny, isn't it? A half-ocean creature with fire powers."

Sabo's smile widened. "It's more than funny. It's fascinating. You never know what to expect with you, and I like that."

As the flames danced around them, the shadows of the tunnel receded, revealing the path ahead. [Name] extended her glowing hand to Sabo, who took it without hesitation. Together, they navigated through the tunnel, their way lit by [Name]'s phoenix flames.

As [Name] and Sabo stepped out of the Tunnel of Love, they were greeted by the chaotic sight of their crewmates trying to navigate their way out of the maze-like carnival. The sounds of laughter, shouts, and the occasional crash filled the air.

"We should probably help them," [Name] said, a smile tugging at her lips.

Sabo nodded, still holding her hand. "Yeah, let's go."

They moved quickly, [Name] using her enhanced senses to locate the others. Her Tori Tori no Mi powers gave her a unique connection to the elements, and she could feel the vibrations of their movements through the ground.

First, they found Luffy and Ace, who were arguing about the best way to get out. Luffy was stubbornly insisting on going one way, while Ace, ever the older brother, tried to reason with him.

"Luffy, Ace!" [Name] called out, her voice carrying over the din. "Over here!"

Luffy's face lit up. "There you are! We got so lost!"

Ace chuckled, ruffling Luffy's hair. "Leave it to you to get us turned around, little brother."

Sabo grinned, shaking his head. "Come on, let's find the others."

Next, they came across Zoro, who had somehow ended up in a completely different part of the carnival, staring at a map upside down. Usopp and Chopper were with him, both looking equally exasperated.

"Zoro, you're going the wrong way," [Name] said, laughing.

Zoro blinked, turning the map around. "I knew that."

Usopp rolled his eyes. "Sure you did. Let's stick together this time."

They continued their search, gathering Nami and Robin from a souvenir shop where they were perusing trinkets. Franky was found at a food stall, munching on a massive turkey leg, while Brook was entertaining a group of carnival-goers with his music.

As the group grew larger, [Name] decided it was time to use her powers to guide them all out. She glanced at Sabo, who gave her an encouraging nod.

Taking a deep breath, [Name] summoned her phoenix flames, her body glowing with a soft, golden light. The flames flickered and danced, illuminating the path ahead.

"Follow me," she said, her voice confident.

The crew watched in awe as she transformed, her wings of fire spreading out behind her. She took to the air, hovering above them and lighting the way. Sabo followed closely, his eyes never leaving her.

"Wow, [Name]," Chopper exclaimed. "You look amazing!"

Robin smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Truly a sight to behold."

[Name] felt a warm glow inside, not just from her flames but from the admiration of her friends. She led them through the twists and turns of the carnival, her flames casting a warm, guiding light.

As they finally emerged from the labyrinth, the crew cheered, relieved to be back in the open air. [Name] landed gracefully, her flames dissipating as she returned to her normal form.

"That was incredible [Name]!" Sabo said, his voice full of genuine admiration. "You really saved the day!"

[Name] blushed, looking down shyly. "Thanks, Sabo. I'm just glad everyone is okay."

Eventually, they emerged from the tunnel to find the rest of the crew gathered, their faces a mix of guilt and amusement.

"Sorry," Luffy said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "We just wanted to give you two some alone time."

[Name] rolled her eyes but smiled. "It's alright, Luffy. We managed just fine."

Ace, who had been watching the whole scene with amusement, clapped Sabo on the back. "Looks like you two had quite the adventure."

Sabo nodded, his eyes meeting [Name]'s. "Yeah, we did. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Meanwhile, more hijinks unfolded with the rest of the crew:

Luffy, ever the mischief-maker, spotted a pie-throwing booth and couldn't resist trying it out. He spent a good half-hour there, challenging anyone who passed by to a pie-throwing contest, resulting in a lot of laughter and a very messy Luffy. (You were extremely shocked he didn't just eat the pies.)

Zoro, still trying to find his way out of the Tunnel of Love, somehow ended up on a completely different ride. When he finally emerged, he was holding a prize he won from a strength test game, looking both confused and slightly triumphant.

Sanji, after dazzling the cooking contest judges, found himself the center of attention among the carnival's female visitors. He flirted shamelessly, handing out roses and charming everyone he met, much to the chagrin of a jealous Luffy who wanted his cook's attention (mainly because they didn't let him eat the dishes of the contest and he was starving).

Brook was still gathering a crowd with his music, and his concert turned into an impromptu dance party. Chopper and Usopp joined in, their silly dance moves causing fits of laughter among the onlookers.

Franky, inspired by the carnival rides, decided to construct a mini rollercoaster using materials he found around the carnival. By the end of the day, he had a small group of kids enjoying the makeshift ride, all chanting "Super!" as they zoomed around.

Nami and Robin, having finished their shopping spree, decided to team up for a ring toss game. Using her keen aim, Nami won several prizes, which she generously shared with the crew, while Robin used her abilities to discreetly assist, much to their amusement. (You were once again surprised she didn't just steal the prizes but hey she was having fun!)

Ace and Jinbei, after finally calling truce about their eating contest, joined in on a water balloon fight. Ace's ability to generate fire was strategically avoided, but his competitive spirit ensured that neither he nor Jinbei left the fight dry.

By the end of the day, the Straw Hat Pirates were exhausted but happy, each carrying their collection of prizes, memories of laughter, and stories of the day's adventures. As they regrouped to enjoy the fireworks display, it was clear that their bond had grown even stronger through the chaos and fun of the carnival.

You and Sabo had still not untangled your hands, opting instead to walk the grounds together until you came to a small clearing. A canopy of stars overhead, with constellations forming shapes of hearts and arrows. The sight was breathtaking, and both [Name] and Sabo fell silent, lost in the beauty of the moment.

"I guess this is the end of the ride," [Name] joked softly.

Sabo nodded, his eyes still fixed on the stars. "Yeah, but maybe it's just the beginning for us." He turned his gaze toward you and admired the star next to him.

Noticing his stare, you turned to him, your heart beating a little faster. "I'd like that."

Sabo smiled, raising your hand to his lips to press and gentle kiss in the center "Me too."

As they stood in the clearing, the world outside seemed brighter, the sounds of the carnival more vibrant. The rest of the crew, watching from a distance, exchanged knowing smiles and thumbs-ups, clearly pleased with their matchmaking efforts.

"Well," Sabo said, squeezing your hand gently, "ready for the next adventure?"

You couldn't stop the smile forming on your face. "With you, Sabo? Always."

"You're one of a kind, [Name]."

As they walked back towards the carnival entrance, hand in hand, [Name] felt a sense of contentment and excitement for what the future held. With Sabo by her side, she knew that every adventure would be even more special.

Epilogue:

As [Name] and Sabo walked back towards the carnival entrance, they noticed the entire crew staring at them with wide grins and knowing looks. Luffy was the first to react, his face lighting up with happiness.

"Hey, everyone, look! They finally held hands!" Luffy shouted, bouncing up and down with excitement.

Ace, however, was pouting, his arms crossed over his chest. "But they still haven't kissed. What's the holdup?"

The crew erupted into laughter, and Nami playfully elbowed Ace. "Give them a break, Ace. These things take time."

Usopp chimed in, smirking. "Yeah, Ace. Not everyone moves as fast as you do."

"Or gets lost as easily as Zoro," Sanji added, earning a half-hearted glare from the swordsman.

"I wasn't lost," Zoro muttered defensively. "I was just... exploring."

Robin chuckled softly. "It's obvious they care about each other. Just let them be."

Sabo, feeling a bit flustered, tried to defend himself and [Name]. "It's not like that, guys. We're just—"

Before he could finish, [Name] reached up on her tiptoes and planted a quick, soft kiss on his cheek. The touch of her lips sent a jolt of warmth through him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

The crew's reaction was immediate and loud. They cheered and clapped, their voices a chorus of encouragement and teasing remarks.

"Finally!" Chopper exclaimed, his little arms waving in the air.

"About time!" Franky added, giving a thumbs-up.

Brook, with his usual flair, declared, "Yohohoho! Young love is a beautiful thing!"

Sabo stood there, momentarily stunned, as [Name] giggled and began to run off, her laughter ringing out like music. The realization hit him, and a wide grin spread across his face. He wasn't going to let her get away that easily.

"Hey, wait up!" Sabo called, taking off in pursuit of her.

The crew continued to cheer and laugh, their excitement infectious. "Go get her, Sabo!" Luffy yelled, jumping up and down.

"Don't let her escape!" Usopp added, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice.

"You better catch your lady!" Sanji called out only to be pinched by both Zoro and Nami.

[Name] glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. Sabo was right behind her, determined and exhilarated.

As he finally caught up to her, they both stopped, breathless and laughing. Sabo gently took her hands in his, looking into her eyes with a mix of affection and amusement.

"You know," he said, catching his breath, "you're pretty fast."

[Name] smiled, her cheeks flushed from the excitement. "Well, I had a good reason to run."

Sabo leaned in closer, his voice soft and sincere. "And a good reason to stop."

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth and connection between them.

When they finally pulled apart, the crew erupted into another round of cheers and applause. Ace, despite his earlier pouting, had a huge grin on his face. "Now that's more like it!"

[Name] and Sabo laughed, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment that was shared by everyone around them. Hand in hand, they walked back towards the crew, ready to face whatever adventures awaited them, knowing they had each other and their supportive, if somewhat meddlesome, friends by their side.

______________________________________________________________

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. I also have a Sabo x Marine! Reader posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don't be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

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Don't be shy, send me your requests, I wanna write lots this weekend!

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

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wonderlanddreamer · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 5: With his trust in John faltering, Tommy takes the situation with Florence in to his own hands, confronting her with a hidden chapter of her past she thought was long buried.

TW: This chapter briefly references to rape/noncon of a minor. Please proceed with caution.

Masterlist here.

Florence navigated the winding cobblestone streets, the evening air crisp and cool against her skin. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, the fabric a comforting shield against the chill. The familiar route home unfolded before her, lined with dimly lit gas lamps that stood like sentinels in the gathering dusk. Their flickering light cast long, wavering shadows that danced across the cobbles, creating a shifting pattern of light and dark that seemed to move with each whispering breeze.

Her mind was still a whirlwind of thoughts, a discordant symphony that refused to quiet. The familiar scent of old paper and ink clung to her senses, now interwoven with the lingering tension from her confrontation with Billy Kimber. Adding to the whirlwind of emotions was the unexpected intervention of John Shelby, whose surprising assistance in her escape left her both astonished and grateful.

Upon reaching her modest home, she paused momentarily, savouring the sight of the familiar doorway that promised respite and refuge. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, welcomed by the comforting warmth that wrapped around her like a familiar embrace. The transition from the bustling streets to the quietude of her personal sanctuary was a ritual she cherished, a moment to shed the outside world and find peace within her walls.

With deliberate care, Florence placed her coat on the rack, each movement unhurried and mindful. The familiar ritual was her way of shedding the day's turmoil, a means to savour the tranquillity of being home. Her small house was a sanctuary of greenery, each room teeming with lush plants that cascaded from shelves and nestled in corners. The air was rich with the earthy scent of soil and the faint sweetness of blooming jasmine, a calming balm that enveloped her with a sense of peace.

As Florence entered the parlour, she halted abruptly, her breath catching in her throat. There, seated with an unsettling air of casual authority in one of her armchairs, was Thomas Shelby. His presence dominated the room, a commanding figure draped in a finely tailored coat that spoke of both power and precision. The flickering firelight danced across his sharp features, casting shadows that accentuated the hard lines of his face and the intensity of his piercing gaze.

The sight of him sent a jolt through her—a potent mix of apprehension and intrigue. Florence quickly masked her surprise, drawing a steadying breath to gather her composure before addressing him. The warmth of the fire did little to ease the chill of his unexpected presence.

"Mr. Shelby," she said, her voice clear and unwavering despite the tumult of emotions within her, "I wasn't expecting company."

Tommy looked up, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, though his eyes remained inscrutable, revealing none of his true intentions. "Miss Fletcher," he replied, his voice low and measured, resonating with an authority that brooked no dissent, "I thought it was time we had a word."

His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto hers as he rose from his seat with the predatory grace of a big cat, each movement deliberate and controlled. As he advanced, the menace he exuded seemed to thicken the air in the cosy parlour, transforming the familiar space into a stage for confrontation. Florence instinctively took a step back, her retreat halted by the unyielding solidity of the wall behind her, trapping her in a corner and amplifying the tension that crackled between them.

"Miss Fletcher," Tommy began, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that crept into her bones, "I hear you’re planning another article about us. Did my brother not already warn you about that?"

Florence frowned at the mention of John and squared her shoulders, lifting her chin defiantly despite the growing sense of foreboding. "The truth of the dealings between you and Billy Kimber needs to be told, Mr. Shelby, whether you and your brother like it or not."

Tommy's smile was a slow curve of his lips, a chilling contrast to the ice in his eyes. He leaned forward, resting an arm against the wall beside her, effectively trapping her with his presence. "The truth," he repeated, his tone laced with derision, as he leaned in closer, his breath a warm whisper against her skin. "Do you know what happens to those who delve too deeply into our affairs?"

Florence swallowed hard, maintaining eye contact even as her heart raced. "They get scared off?"

Tommy's chuckle was a dark, ominous rumble that seemed to echo off the walls. "No, Miss Fletcher. They suffer. They lose everything they hold dear," he continued, his voice now a deadly whisper, his shadow looming over her, "But you already know all about that, don't you?"

Tommy reached into his coat, extracting a photograph with a deliberate slowness that felt like a tightening vice around Florence's heart. Every movement was calculated, a performance designed to build tension. Her eyes widened as she recognized the image—a picture of her old family home in London. The sight of the familiar, weathered bricks and ivy-covered walls was a chilling reminder of a past she had fought desperately to bury, a past filled with shadows and silent screams.

Tommy's voice turned ice-cold, each word dripping with menace and a cruel kind of curiosity. "I did some digging myself," he said, his tone a mockery of sympathy. "Tragic what happened to your family. Beaten to death by a gang in London, weren’t they? And you and your mother... they had their way with you first, didn't they?" He paused, savouring the impact of his words before lifting a hand and brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek with a mockery of tenderness. “Poor, little Florence, eh? The little girl who lived when the rest of her family died.”

Florence's breath hitched, and the defiance in her eyes flickered, replaced by a volatile mix of anger and fear. Her mind raced, trying to maintain a semblance of control amidst the rising panic. "Don't you talk about my family," she warned, her voice a whisper of rebellion, tinged with the desperation of a cornered animal.

Tommy's eyes darkened, transforming into something unrecognisable, almost feral, as if relishing the power he held over her. He leaned closer, his arm a solid, immovable barrier against the wall beside her, his presence suffocating and inescapable. His fingers trailed down to her neck, brushing against the collar of her blouse with a casual intimacy that was both invasive and terrifying. His voice dropped to a malevolent whisper, each word a dagger slicing through her composure. "It must have been terrifying, watching them all die, thinking you'd join them. Wouldn't it be awful if something similar were to happen to you, right here in Birmingham?"

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle into the silence, each second stretching into an eternity. His tone shifted, becoming even more chilling. "I have men who would do anything for me, Florence. Men who don’t ask questions. Or perhaps I could have my way with you." His hand drifted to the hem of her skirt, his fingers toying with the elasticated fabric as if considering his next move before releasing it, the snap of the fabric a punctuation mark in the oppressive quiet. He shook his head slowly, a predator biding its time. “Oh, the things I could do to a pretty little thing like you, Miss Fletcher.”

The room seemed to close in around her, the shadows deepening and twisting as Tommy's words hung in the air like a noose, tightening with every breath she took. His touch lingered on her skin, an unwelcome reminder of the threat he posed. Florence's resolve wavered, her bravado crumbling under the weight of his presence and the chilling inevitability of his words.

Tommy leaned in closer, his breath hot and sinister against Florence's cheek, the proximity suffocating in the dimly lit parlour. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as if conspiring with him to trap her in this moment of dread, a claustrophobic nightmare from which there was no escape.

"I can make it happen, Florence," he whispered, his voice a low, threatening murmur that seeped into her mind like poison, settling in the corners of her consciousness like a dark cloud. "Every scream, every desperate plea for help will haunt you. Every agonising moment will be a reminder that you crossed the wrong man."

Florence's eyes flickered downward, instinctively seeking escape from the piercing gaze that seemed to strip her bare, exposing every fear and vulnerability. But Tommy was quicker, his hand shooting out with the speed of a striking snake, fingers gripping her face with a possessive, unyielding force. Florence reacted immediately, her hands pushing against his in a futile attempt to free herself. Tommy easily caught her hands, pinning them to the wall above her head with one strong hand, his strength an unassailable wall against her desperation. His other hand reclaimed her face with a roughness that left no room for defiance, the pressure underscoring the threat in his words. The parlour's shadows seemed to deepen, swallowing the scant light as if in agreement with his malice, the darkness a silent witness to the unfolding scene.

"Look at me," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument, a demand that cut through the air like a blade. Her eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, locked onto his, and she fought desperately to keep her composure from crumbling completely. The fear was there, raw and palpable, a tangible presence between them. Tommy revelled in it, his smile widening to reveal a cruel, sadistic glint in his eye. He savoured the moment, the power he wielded over her like a puppet master pulling the strings, her fear a symphony to his twisted senses.

"And don't think for a second," he continued, his voice dripping with malice and a dark promise, "that I won't relish watching you break. Every. Single. Day."

The parlour, once a safe haven, now felt like a trap, the air thick with tension and the echoes of his threat lingering like a spectre of doom.

Florence's breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, her mind a chaotic whirl of fear and disbelief. She wanted to scream, to beg him to stop, but pride held her tongue. Yet, deep down, she knew he could see the cracks forming in her resolve, the fissures widening under the weight of his threats.

Tommy straightened up with a predatory grace, adjusting his coat as if nothing had happened, the image of calm composure in stark contrast to the turmoil he had unleashed within her. "Choose wisely, Miss Fletcher," he said, his voice now almost casual, as if discussing the weather. "Some stories aren’t worth the trouble they bring."

As Tommy stepped back, there was a calculated grace to his movements, each deliberate action underscoring the control he exerted over the room. The silence was heavy, punctuated only by the soft rustle of his coat as he adjusted it with meticulous precision. Florence watched, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind a whirl of fear and defiance and she crossed her arms over her chest.

Tommy turned toward the door, his footsteps a slow, measured cadence against the wooden floor. But just as he reached the threshold, he paused, casting a steely glance over his shoulder. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto hers, conveying a promise far more chilling than words alone could express.

"Florence," he said, his voice low and dangerous, carrying the weight of unspoken consequences. "Make no mistake—if you keep digging where we've warned you not to, you'll find yourself buried alongside the secrets, rather than writing about them. Unlike my brother, you'll only get one warning from me."

His gaze was unflinching, an ironclad vow of what lay ahead should she defy him. With a final, lingering look, he turned away and strode out, leaving behind a chilling void in the room.

Florence stood in the aftermath of his departure, the silence now a suffocating shroud. Her mind raced, replaying Tommy's words, each one a sharp reminder of the precarious position she found herself in. The decision before her was no longer just about journalism—it was a battle for her very survival, a fight to maintain her dignity in the face of a threat that loomed large and menacing.

As the door closed with a resounding click, she was left alone with her thoughts, the weight of Tommy's warning pressing down on her like a vice. Yet, amidst the fear, a spark of determination flickered within her—a resolve to find a way through the darkness, to stand her ground in a world that threatened to consume her whole.

#peaky blinders #john shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic #john shelby x oc #john shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction #behind enemy lines #enemies to lovers #ao3 link #ao3 writer #ao3 #john shelby fanfic #john shelby x florence fletcher #florence fletcher #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders oc

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cariantha · 1 year ago

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Hey, Stranger

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: 🔥NSFW, ⛔18+ Only, contains explicit sexual content

Category: Fluff, Smut

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: A handsome stranger offers Sawyer a ride in his pickup truck.

A/N: Artwork by the incredible @/artbyainna on Instagram. This fic was inspired by the song Look I Like by Alana Springsteen.

With a fresh coat of lip gloss and a fluff of her tousled waves, Sawyer exits the crowded ladies' room to a cacophony of distant conversations, glasses clinking, 80’s rock music, and pool balls crashing into each other. She breathes in the smell of beer and fried food as her eyes adjust to the dimly lit bar. The main source of light, a buzzing neon sign that reads The Rhode House, beckons her to the center of the action.

Squeezing between several patrons, she flags down the bartender and orders a local draft. As she waits, Sawyer takes in the scene around her. The crowd, mostly locals, is a mix of working classes. The Rhodie accents are thicker among the jovial blue collars, while the more reserved white collars literally wear the mark of their collared shirts.

“A Sea Dog Wild Blueberry for the lady,” the bartender draws her attention. As she turns back around, she catches a sidelong glance from an attractive man sitting a few seats away. She tastes the foam from her glass and casually positions herself to get a better look at the handsome fellow.

The soles of his brown laced boots are caked in dried mud, and he wears a pair of Levi’s that fit snugly around his muscular calves and thighs. The backless barstool affords her a clear view of his perfectly rounded ass.

A distressed cotton T-shirt molds to his torso, the short sleeves tight around his thick biceps. When he sits a bit straighter, Sawyer can see the peaks of his pecs on full display.

She follows a trail of stubble from his neck to his chin and along his masculine jawline. His well-worn baseball cap casts a shadow over his hooded eyes, and dark chestnut hair curls around its edges.

There is something about how he holds his drink and thoughtfully swirls the amber liquid in his glass. A tough and rugged exterior permeates confidence and sophistication. It’s as though he’s lived on both sides of the tracks and finds himself most comfortable living somewhere in between.

As if he could feel the heat of her gaze, the stranger turned his head slightly over his shoulder, catching her in the act of checking him out.

Sawyer doesn’t shy away. Instead, she smiles unabashedly and takes a slow sip of her beer. But the intoxicating moment is instantly sobered when a portly patron sitting between them stands to reach for his wallet.

Luckily, the crowded bar does not deter their interest in each other. Returning to their drinks, they continue their game of eye tag, taking a peak whenever an opening appears.

Sawyer has only had a few swallows of beer, but the way this man keeps looking at her makes her feel a bit tipsy. And just when she thinks he couldn’t be more her type, the complete opposite slinks in beside her, cutting off the view.

She quickly surveys the offender.

Mahogany oxfords match the leather belt looped through his tan dress pants, and a gray wool sweater layers over a neatly tucked-in button-down.

He’s tall and fit, his face framed by a neatly trimmed beard and smart tortoiseshell glasses.

He has the air of a wealthy New Englander, a preppy who probably drives a BMW and is a country club member down the street.

After ordering an Old Fashioned, he turns to her with a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns politely.

Leaning down to her ear, he speaks over the hubbub of the bar.

“I noticed you from the other side of the room and wanted to come say hello.”

Her senses are overwhelmed by hints of spice and cedarwood standing this close.

“I landed a big promotion at work, and I’m celebrating tonight,” he added.

“Congratulations,” she offered.

“I’d really like to buy you a drink.”

There’s no denying he’s attractive and polite, but he’s too polished. Too well-mannered for what she had in mind that evening.

The bartender interrupts before Sawyer can even respond, placing a drink in front of her. “From the gentleman in the hat,” he says, tilting his head toward the sexy stranger from before.

“What kind of drink is this?” she asks, holding the glass to her nose to take a sniff.

“It’s our house special…the Rhode House Special. It’s not on the menu, but it’s a local favorite,” the bartender answers.

Turning back to the prepster, Sawyer remembers his offer.

“Thank you, but it appears someone has beat you to it,” she smiles apologetically.

Accepting his defeat, the man in the wool sweater collects his drink and nods. “If you change your mind…” he trails off before returning to his party.

Sawyer catches her new friend's eye, raises her glass, and offers a coy smile of gratitude.

He acknowledges with a tip of his hat.

Eyes never leaving him, she takes a long, savoring sip. She rewards his kind gesture with a slow lick of her lips, earning a satisfied smirk before he turns his attention back to his own drink.

With the ball in her court, she gathers her things and wedges herself into the narrow space between his stool and the occupied one beside him.

“Hey, stranger," she greets, instantly mesmerized by his piercing blue eyes.

“Hey,” his voice is rich and velvety.

“I’ve been watching you.”

“Same.”

Sawyer rests her back against the bar top, the new angle putting her cleavage on full display. Her audience takes the bait and shamelessly adjusts to the new focal point.

“I don’t know if you’re here with somebody tonight…but I hope you’re not,” she confesses.

“I’m not.”

“Anyone waiting at home?”

He shakes his head no and takes a swig from his tumbler.

“Good. Because I like what I’ve seen.” She deliberately looks him up and down. “You’ve got that look I like.”

“Oh? What look is that?”

She drags her teeth over her bottom lip and leans in. Her breath caresses the shell of his ear as she speaks.

“The look of a guy not afraid to get a little…dirty.”

His eyes immediately rake over her body. The silky red fabric of her spaghetti strap sundress feels see-through under his scrutiny. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when his gaze falls on her muddy cowboy boots. He appears to have reached the same conclusion about her.

Downing the last of his drink, he stands, already knowing the answer to his next question.

“My truck is parked in the back. Do you want to go for a ride?”

“God, yes.”

After settling their tabs, Sawyer boldly follows the dashing stranger to the parking lot. His ‘77 Ford F250 Highboy is parked in a dark corner. The truck is in excellent condition for as many miles as it’s seen. An outstretched hand holds her steady as she climbs into the passenger side and slides onto the bench seat.

The driver’s side door opens a moment later, and her chauffeur sits behind the wheel. He puts a key in the ignition, turning it over just enough to let the push button radio come on. Soft country music fills the cab while a soft red glow from the bar’s outdoor sign filters through the windows.

Sawyer notices how he relaxes on the bench, his legs falling open. Scooting to the middle seat, she runs her fingers from his knee up his thigh.

“Before we take that ride, how about we warm up the engine?” she suggests, running the back of her fingers over the swelling fly of his jeans.

He answers with a moan.

Wasting no time, Sawyer unbuckles his belt. She yanks it from around his waist and drops it to the floorboard. Unfastening his pants, she guides her hand under the elastic band, freeing him of the confines of his boxer briefs.

A devilish smile flits across her face before she bends down.

She drags her tongue up and down the length of his shaft, drawing teasing circles around the tip before finally taking him into her mouth. Her hands hold his hips down as her lips expertly glide along the delicate skin. Sawyer takes as much of him in as she can, her cheeks slightly caving in with each nectareous suck.

His head slowly falls back while his fingers tangle into her blondish tresses.

She gauges how close he is by the unmistakable sounds of pleasure and the tightening grip on her hair. She releases him with a pop and sits up when he's on the verge of release.

As he descends back to earth, Sawyer gently removes his ball cap and blindly lays it on the dashboard behind her.

Her hands slowly navigate the landscape beneath his shirt. When her fingers graze the hair on his chest, she eases one hand behind his back and tugs it off.

She studies his torso like a map. Her fingers trace a path from his collarbone, under his rounded pecs, over his ribs, and down the plane of his rolling six-pack. Taking a direct route to the valley of his chest, she diverts quickly to his nipple, circling it with her thumb.

With her lips at his ear, she whispers, “Ready for a wild ride?”

Sitting back in her seat, Sawyer slips her boots off, then reaches under the skirt of her dress. Slightly elevating her hips, she removes her blush-colored panties and hangs them around the rearview mirror for safekeeping.

Throwing a leg over his lap, she straddles him, careful not to take him in just yet. She rests on his powerful thighs and wraps her hand around his manhood, stroking him a few times.

He eagerly reaches for Sawyer’s waist, silently coaxing her to come closer. Hooking a finger under the thin strap of her dress, he slides it off, exposing her bare breast. His large hand envelopes it, massaging her nipple into a stiff peak. He pushes the other strap off her shoulder, the top of her dress falling to her waist. Swiftly leaning forward, he takes her into his mouth.

Sawyer folds her arms around his neck to hold him in place as he delightfully nips and sucks.

The hungry hunk lifts his head and forcefully captures her mouth. It’s the first time their lips have connected tonight, and they are immediately open to one another. He cups her face in his hands, pinning her hair back as his tongue occupies her mouth.

The intense sensation stimulates her whole body, and she unconsciously inches her sex closer to his.

With equal force, Sawyer pushes him away, shoving his shoulders against the back of the bench. Hurriedly, she reaches under the hem of her dress, and holding him in position, she rises just enough to mount him.

He hisses as she lowers herself and takes him in completely.

She rocks her hips back and forth at a steady pace while his hands begin a journey up her thighs, around her hips, and finally come to rest on her bare ass. But the green of her eyes has him on the move again. His touch travels up her spine, over her shoulders, through the valley of her breasts, and past her navel, until his thumb finally reaches the spot.

The pace quickens, and Sawyer pushes her hands against the cab's roof for extra support. Her breasts bounce with each rise and fall. But strong hands hold her hips in place as each downbeat is met with an upward thrust.

“Yes…yes,” she mewls. “Oh my god…I’m so close.”

“Come on, baby,” her lover instructs.

Sawyer cries out as she is lifted to heaven by the rapture. “ETHAN!”

Throwing an arm behind her, she plants her hand on his knee. Her hair falls back as she arches deeply, pushing her breasts forward while she rides out her orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan whispers at the sight of his climaxing girlfriend.

The involuntary shudders set him off and filled her with warmth.

Ethan rests his head against the cool rear window and closes his eyes to regain equilibrium.

When he opens them a few moments later, Sawyer rises to help him ease out. But before she can fully dismount, he seizes the sides of her face. Pulling her close, he crushes his lips onto hers. “You are fucking incredible. You know that, right?” He kisses her again, softly this time. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, stranger,” she giggled. “Thanks for playing along.”

“Thank you. But I’m curious. What brought this on?”

“You know I go feral anytime you wear jeans and a t-shirt…” she reaches behind for his Hopkins cap, placing it backward on his head, “and your baseball hat. Also, watching you hang siding with your dad today,” she fans herself. “You were such a tease… giving me peeks of skin… and showing off your hot bod,” she explains, skimming her fingers along his V-lines.

Ethan’s phone buzzes, and he looks at the caller ID. “Speaking of…”

He puts the call on speaker as Sawyer moves back to the passenger side and pulls her dress straps back onto her shoulders.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, did you kids get lost or something?”

“Sorry, we took a little detour,” he winks at Sawyer. “We picked up the paint and will be home right after I stop and fill your truck with gas. You’re almost on empty.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, Son. Thank you.”

“We’ll see you soon, Dad.”

As they put themselves back together, Sawyer asks, “So, the Rhode House Special? That’s the same drink you had Reggie make the day we met, right?”

“It is.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s in it finally?”

He chuckles, turning over the ignition. “Nope.”

“Ethan!” she swats at him as he puts the truck in gear.

He smiles when he checks the rearview mirror to ensure it's safe to back up. “As much as I love this view, I do believe these pose a driving hazard,” he chuckles, unhooking her panties from the mirror.

“I guess I should put those back on,” she says, reaching for them.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he retreats, tucking them into his pocket. “We’re going to take full advantage of this bench seat.”

Tapping the middle space between them, “Scoot your ass over here and buckle up, baby. This strap is going to hold you down when you start bucking your hips,” he smiles smugly, tightening her seatbelt. “I want you s-”

“Safe?”

“No. Screaming my name again.”

BONUS: This is the slut that had that Sawyer so worked up all day.🥵 Happy Smutember!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @openheartforeverinmyheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog @rookiemartin @headoverheelsforramsey

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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jessequinnfirstofhername · 2 months ago

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The Rules:

Every twenty-four hours there will be another round. After every round, the character in last place will be eliminated.

If there are multiple characters tying for last place, there will be a special elimination round. In these rounds, every character in last place will be eliminated, even if all the characters have tied equally.

When there are only two characters remaining, they will face off against one another in a week-long poll to determine the victor.

If the character that you consider the hottest isn’t listed here, hit the ‘what about ___???’ option and reply to this post with the overlooked character. The character with the highest 'write-in’ votes will be added to the next round. Unless the 'what about ___???’ option is the least voted for, in which case it will be eliminated. Welcome to the party, Dracula and Henry Fitzroy!

I'm counting hybrids and dhampirs as vampires. My poll, my rules.

If you're looking for the hottest vampiress poll, it'll be on my blog, right next to this one.

This is all for fun. Don’t take it too seriously ;)

Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik) for all the wonderful suggestions for overlooked sexy vampires. Unfortunately, there's limited room in this poll, so we're going to have to throw Count von Count (Sesame Street) and Marshall Lee The Vampire King (Adventure Time: Fionna & Cake) into the sunlight and watch them burn.

We have our first casualty! Now, as all my followers know, I am an unbiased and impartial poll-master. So join me in saying; hahahahaha get wrecked Bill!

Enjoy saying "Soo-keh" in HELL! Ahahaha!

...I do not much care for Bill Compton, is what I'm saying.

Round Two!

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nikethestatue · 1 year ago

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The Agreement

Chapter 11

Elain Archeron

Elain woke up when it was still grey outside. The sun was barely up this Monday morning.

Her body felt raw. Everything ached.

But she smiled, her grin so wide, so happy, her cheeks hurt. She ached and yet she felt elated.

When Elain was ten years old, she got lost in the woods near their house–back then, it was an estate–and as she wandered around, she came upon a small meadow. It was hidden behind a copse of trees and she walked upon it by sheer accident. It was a perfect little spot: the grass emerald green, and wildflowers growing in abundance, sprinkled around like tossed gemstones. It was a lovely summer day–the sky was so blue it looked turquoise, and there wasn’t a cloud around. Beyond the meadow was a book, which bubbled with water.

Instead of being frightened and concerned over her location, instead of wondering how she’d find her way back, Elain lay in the grass, spreading her arms and legs like a starfish. The sun was warm, and she took off her shoes and stockings, and allowed the rays to burn her pale, thin legs. It was the first, and perhaps the only time in her life when she felt completely at peace. Safe. A princess in a fairytale, where all the forest creatures were her friends, the water in the brook was cold and sweet, and the berries that she spotted growing on the bushes were juicy and plump. Not a worry in the world.

As she lay in Azriel’s arms, her head tucked under his arm, his hands holding her gently, but firmly to his warm, masculine body, she felt it again–safe and happy.

The world was out there–even on the normally quiet, quaint streets of Belgravia, she could hear the neighing of horses, the rumble of carriage wheels, and somewhere, far in the distance, the calls of a paperboy, announcing today’s news.

Here, however, it was peaceful and quiet and perfect. She still luxuriated in post-coital bliss, but awareness slowly seeped into her sex-addled brain. Azriel felt incredibly good next to her, his heavy leg thrown over her thighs, and he kept her so close to himself, it felt to her as if he was afraid to let her go. She knew that she was taken with him, completely, and probably foolishly, but she couldn’t help herself. However, she was also quite sure that the man was taken with her no less. Whatever Azriel felt, she daren’t call it something lofty like ‘love’, it was definitely there–last night, Elain had felt it acutely. His passion. His desire. His need for her. He was a man unleashed and somehow, she was sure that she was the only person in the world who’d seen the ‘true’ Azriel. A man of emotions and feelings and incredible warmth.

The things that they’ve done though. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t even know that they were possible only 24 hours ago, but here she was, aching and dripping all over. Last night, after he’d removed himself from her bottom, and she lay there, boneless, exhausted, flustered, yet completely satisfied and happy, Azriel went to run her a bath. He took care of her if it was his favourite thing in the world–he’d carried her to the bathing room, set her in the tub, and then washed every inch of her body with his bare hands. The man was not exactly ashamed of his utterly perfect body, so he sat on the edge of the tub completely naked, and Elain couldn’t help herself and just stared at his massive manhood. He’d added something to the water once she got inside and explained that it was epsom salt, for her muscle soreness. Frankly, the sorest thing on her body weren’t her muscles, but her ass. It was aching and burning something fierce. Elain didn’t tell him that, but it seemed like he’d guessed, especially when the hot water touched her battered anus, and she gasped with pain. He was both gentle and invasive, as he lathered her, foregoing the loofa, inspecting the bruises that he left on her skin–her thighs and hips were slowly turning blue with his fingerprints, and he seemed to relish in the evidence of his hands on her flesh. He washed her breasts, then her hair, soaping her head up with jasmine-scented balm, and as he massaged his long, strong fingers into her scalp, Elain thought that she might as well just fall asleep in the tub. The epsom salt was definitely working–the burning in her rectum subsided, and her tense body became soft and malleable as time went on. She was tired and brimming with anxiety, yet more relaxed than she’d ever been in her life. It was an odd combination of emotions that were swirling inside of her. She was still not entirely comfortable with her nudity–a feeling that she suspected would last a while longer–but Azriel was a forceful man, and she knew that he wouldn’t suffer her foolish modesty gladly. She was too tired to argue with him, or tell him that she was perfectly capable of bathing and washing herself on her own. At last, once he was done with washing her, he let her soak, while he stepped into the shower enclosure and quickly soaped and rinsed his incredible body. Elain lay there, watching him through the steamed up glass.

“Hungry eyes,” he teased her.

“You are nice to look at,” she admitted simply.

“You are not so bad yourself, lass.”

After he was done, he picked her up from the bathtub and wrapped her in no less than three towels, rubbing and wiping her thoroughly. In the end, she stood completely naked in front of him, exposed and uncovered, and Azriel, who was on his knees in front of her, pressed a long kiss to the bare mound of her sex.

“And before you ask,” he told her, as she gasped with surprise and pleasure, “no, you may not have a nightgown for sleeping. And no, I will not dress either.”

She chewed on his lip, because that was exactly what she wanted to ask him for. Something to sleep in. He was smirking at her knowingly.

“I want your pussy firmly planted on my thigh,” he decided and then hauled her back to the bedroom. In bed, he slotted his leg between hers, having her slit splay over his thick thigh. And Elain couldn’t complain.

…“Never met a woman who thinks so noisily,” Azriel’s morning voice was especially husky, and deliciously gravelly.

His arm tightened around Elain’s body, and he brashly squeezed her bottom.

His face nuzzled into the top of her head and she felt his lips on her hair.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

“Morning…sir?”

He chuckled at that and kissed her again,

“You aren’t sure?”

“I am not sure what to call you right now,” she admitted.

“We are still alone. Still in bed. I would say ‘Azriel’ works just fine when we are together.”

Elain sighed contentedly and pressed her face into his arm, her finger tracing the patterns of his tattoos.

“It’s still odd for me,” she said quietly. “To be with you. In coitus…”

“We are hardly in coitus,” he argued with a smirk and squeezed her ass cheek harder.

Elain finally looked up at him and Azriel glanced down at her sleepily. He was handsome even now–his skin was golden in this morning light, his eyes soft and observing her with lazy curiosity, the thick, black hair unruly against the white cotton of the pillows.

His fingers brushed against the crevice of her bottom, before sliding upwards and slipping between her folds.

“Are you still filled with me?” he murmured warmly, lips skating over her forehead. “Still dripping my seed?”

Elain blushed violently, and didn’t answer, which made him laugh softly.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart,“ he told her. “It fills me with unbridled male pride that you are.”

“Was I satisfactory?” she asked quietly, her hand sliding over his firm chest, the finger still tracing the swirls of black ink.

“You were. As I told you last night,” he reminded her, “you were wonderful. A dream come true. Truly.”

He smoothed his hand over her tangled hair and smiled at her. It was warm and genuine.

“How did you get these?” she queried, drawing her finger over the tattoos on his shoulder.

He looked down, as if he’d forgotten that he had them inked into his skin.

“Ahhh…my mother’s people’s custom,” he said vaguely. “Do they bother you?”

She shook her head no and said, “not at all. I think they are beautiful. But men of your stature usually don’t have tattoos. More of a sailors’ thing than a duke’s.”

He huffed an amused laugh and nodded, “That it is. However, my mother’s people think differently. The tattoos are given as marks of luck and glory on the battlefield. When I turned 18, I was expected to take the Grand Tour. Visit all the famous countries in Europe–France, Italy, Greece, as well as Austria, Germany, Switzerland…so far as St. Petersburg..

“That’s what my parents thought I’d do and believed me when I was posting them letters and postcards from Vienna, Geneva, Florence and Pisa.

“Instead, I boarded a ship in Genoa that took me down to Constantinople and from there, I took another ship, I sailed down to the Levant.”

“Why did you want to?”

He thought for a moment, and then disclosed, “there’s always been a missing piece, a gaping hole in my very self, in the essence of me as a man that stemmed from my not knowing much about my mother’s culture. My father did just about everything to eradicate it from our family, but I am just as much my mother’s son, as I am my father’s.

“Unlike the current trend of aristocrats being enamoured with ‘noble savages’ from different parts of the world, especially those with features that do not match ours exactly, my father harboured no such feelings. He was a true believer in English supremacy. And we are a fine and brave nation, but I am built on the bones of two cultures. I’ve been a perfect Englishman all my life. It was time to explore the other side of my family. I wanted to see what made me me. What my mother’s culture added to the mix. How I was forged,”

“You speak so eloquently, sir,” Elain whispered, listening to him with rapt attention.

“So I learned as much as I could about her people from my mother, keeping it a secret from my father. She wrote me letters of recommendation, and I was on my way.”

“How was that?” Elain asked, staring at him wide eyed.

“Hot,” he responded.

“Be serious!” she demanded, pushing at him and he laughed.

“I am being serious. It’s incredibly hot. Dusty. Beautiful. Sunny. Scorching. Vibrant. Bustling. I’d spent some time exploring–visited Jerusalem, the Pyramids of Giza, went to Damascus,”

“Truly? That is incredible!”

“It was. And then I went to meet my mother’s family–they are wealthy and well-respected, holding a high position in society. My grandfather was the ambassador to Britain, and that’s how and why my parents met in the first place. But there are also ancient customs that I encountered. Some lovely. Some savage.

“I’d participated in a brutal coming of age ceremony–they call it the Blood Rite–,”

“Jesus,” she breathed.

“Sounds about as fun as it was to go through it. But anyone, any young man, who completes it is permitted to take their rightful place in society.

I suppose it’s not so different from the Spartans, who put their youths through similar ordeals, or even the Scots, or the Vikings. Coming of age rituals, which included feats of strength and survival of the fittest aren’t anything new. But they sure were eye opening to a little stuck-up lordling from London!” he laughed and Elain smiled, though it seemed that this Blood Rite was a rather traumatic event, despite Azriel’s dismissive attitude.

“Anyway, by the end of it–and mind you, this little lordling ended up coming in the top three!--I was honoured with the markings on my flesh.

“Do I think that they are imbued with some special powers?” he shrugged, “I am not a superstitious man, but I’ve been in two wars and I came back in more or less one piece. You be the judge.”

“Thank god for them then,” Elain said firmly, stroking his chest. “For luck and glory.”

“For luck and glory,” he repeated.

Suddenly, the door opened and in came Nuala, wheeling a cart with breakfast and a pot of hot water.

Elain jerked in Azriel’s arms, and let out a strangled gasp.

“Good morning, Nuala,” Azriel greeted the servant nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t naked in bed with an equally naked Elain.

“Good morning, my lord,” she said cheerfully. “Miss Elain. I brought breakfast. I thought you might want to dine in the privacy of your bedroom today.”

“Very thoughtful,” Azriel nodded. “Thank you.”

“Nuala, you must knock next time,” Elain cried out, hiding under the covers.

“Oh, Miss Elain, no need to be bashful. But if that is your wish, I certainly will.”

“Yes! I am…indecent!” Elain gasped.

Azriel laughed.

“Cerridwen made a little bit of everything,” Nuala said. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

With a small curtsey, she didn’t wait for the dismissal and left the room.

Azriel gently pulled the blanket and the sheets down, and whispered, “are you going to crawl out there any time soon?”

“No! I am mortified!”

“Why?”

“Why? Why? Because I am in bed, naked with a man who isn’t even my husband!”

Azriel blew his breath and then sat down, swinging his long legs on the floor.

“Wouldn’t be the first, wouldn’t be the last woman to be in bed with a man who isn’t her husband.”

He got up from the bed and didn’t bother with undershorts or britches, as he sauntered to the trolley completely naked. Elain admired his self-confidence with the same passion as she admired his carved behind, which was so muscular, it was square, and she’d bet that if she’d bounce a penny off it, it would indeed bounce right back.

He lifted all the cloches off the serving platters, saying, “we have eggs, fruit, toast, cream and butter, even sausages and mushrooms,”

“I’ll just have toast,” Elain told him, as she slipped out of the bed while he wasn’t looking and rushed to the bathing room. She quietly closed the door behind her, relieved herself and then glanced in the mirror.

She looked…different.

She couldn’t think of another word but deflowered.

There was a new, wanton look about her–her hair was tangled, thick and lustrous. Her lips were terribly swollen, and she blushed at the thought that it was because of the number of kisses that he had placed on her face and mouth. And her nipples. Because they were also dusty pink and swollen. And there was a shadow of a bruise on her left breast, which she could tell was his fingerprint.

She grabbed her hairbrush and brushed through her hair aggressively, attempting to detangle it. This was the reason why she always braided it for the night, but of course last night wasn’t like any other night.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth with mint and bicarb powder and then groaned, seeing as there was absolutely nothing in the bathing room to wrap herself in. They’d used all the towels last night, and there wasn’t even a dressing gown on the hook. All her manoeuvring was for naught, for she would still have to come back out completely nude.

She sighed and then pulled the door just a smidge.

Azriel was standing right in front of her, a teasing smirk on his lips, her dressing gown hanging off his index winger.

“Looking for this?” he cocked his brow at her.

“Yes, thank you,” Elain attempted to take the robe from him, but he pulled his hand back and tsked.

“Very stealthy, Miss Archeron. Very. But not stealthy enough,”

“Why can’t I dress?!” she demanded, even stomping her foot.

He chuckled and commented, “oh, I do love a temper tantrum. Please continue.”

She glared at him, but had no other choice but to step into the bedroom.

Relenting a bit, he added, “perhaps, you can dress after we’ve eaten.”

“My dressing gown was on the hook in the bathing room yesterday,” she hissed. “I remember.”

“Ahhh, stealthy and observant! We’d make a fine spy of you yet. And you are correct, it was there. Only I woke up earlier today, got myself presentable for the morning and moved the gown here.”

He smiled at her innocently and Elain glared back at him.

“Coffee?” he offered. “Tea?”

Elain took a seat in an armchair, primly crossing her legs at the ankles and tried covering her breasts, though she kept forgetting about them, as her gaze snagged on Azriel’s powerful back. The thick muscles. The perfect line of his spine. The golden brown skin. The divots above his perfect behind. The long lean legs.

“Tea, please,” she requested. “And toast.”

“And what else?”

“That would be all.”

Azriel kept loading the plate and then he turned around and she saw fruit and pastry and eggs on the plate.

“As we’ve agreed before, I would like for you to eat properly,” he reminded her. “Toast is just dry bread. I need you to eat more,”

“For the baby,” she murmured.

Azriel chewed the inside of his cheek, as he came over and sat on his hunches in front of her.

“Not for the baby,” he said at last. “For you. I want you to be healthy and well-fed. For you.”

He handed her a cup of tea and then sat on the arm of the chair and muttered, “forgive me and my balls next to your face.”

Elain sipped her tea and murmured without looking at him, “I’ve had both your manhood and your…” she cleared her throat, “balls much closer to my face than this.”

He barked a laugh and nodded, “that is true.”

Azriel prodded her mouth with a triangle of buttered toast and she bit into it eagerly.

“You need to make sure to drink,”

“Why?” she asked curiously, chewing the bread.

“Because sexual relations dehydrate you. Speaking of my balls, they are empty.”

She choked on her toast and stared at him, while he picked up a wild strawberry, and fed it to her.

“I’ve been thoroughly emptied,” he said. “Even if I wanted to make a babe, I am not certain I would be able to right now.”

Elain giggled, feeling strangely prideful. Because she did this to him.

Azriel picked up a jar with cream and added a splash to his coffee. But then, he set his cup aside on a side table and suddenly dipped Elain’s bare breast into the jar, coating her nipple with the cream. She jerked back, staring at him in astonishment, because he picked another strawberry and then swirled it in the cream over her breast. Before she could even say anything, his mouth clamped on both the strawberry and the nipple. He sucked and chewed on them, pulling her tit deep into his mouth, his tongue lashing her sensitive flesh, as he swallowed the berry. Holding her breast in his warm palm, as if it was an offering, he dipped it again into the cream and then licked her aching, fleshy globe with wide swipes of his tongue.

“Azriel,” she finally managed to utter, her voice raspy and needy.

“Mmmm,” he moaned appreciatively into her breast, sucking the cream off her nipple. He proceeded to then drip a bit onto her other nipple and catch the thick white droplets on his tongue.

“I can’t wait until you have our baby sucking on your heavy, beautiful tits,” he grumbled into her breast, licking and sucking on it hungrily.

“Azriel…I …I…” she began mumbling, but he tore a piece of flaky, buttery almond croissant and stuffed it in her mouth, effectively shutting her up.

“I want to fuck you,” he told her, as he kissed her lips.

He tasted of strawberries and cream.

He tasted of comfort and home.

Were they a family now? Elain wondered to herself, as she kissed him back, opening up for him and taking his tongue inside her mouth, licking strawberry juice off his lip. Were the occupants of this beautiful white estate a kind of family now?

“But I know that you are sore,” he said, “so I will attempt to be a gentleman…And leave you be until at least the evening,”

“Attempt?” she chuckled.

“It’s not easy, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

He rose to his feet and looked at the clock on the mantle.

“I ought to be getting ready for the day,” he said. “I want you to finish your breakfast and relax for the rest of the day.”

“Are you going to your job?” she asked, while he licked her breasts clean.

“Unfortunately, I have to. Today is not a day I am able to miss. But maybe it’s for the best–you can heal without me pouncing on you,” he grinned and Elain laughed.

“Here,” he handed her the dressing gown, which was so sheer it would barely cover anything.

Elain watched him leave the bedroom, and as usual, he seemed not to care that he was naked. She supposed that he didn’t have to, as he was the master of the house, but it still amused her. He was so different from anyone she’d ever met before. She still didn't begin to untangle the the convoluted web that was Azriel, Lord Night.

She tucked her legs under her and picked up the plate of food.

Oh…she didn’t have utensils, she realised too late, since they were still on the cart.

Only a week since they’ve met, and she was so used to him feeding her that she’d half-forgotten what it was like to feed herself. It was preposterous, of course, yet, there was something so intimate and desirable in the way he took charge. In the way he cared for her. And for what it was worth, Azriel certainly cared for her. Often, he perplexed her, but she preferred not to dwell on it.

It was less than fifteen minutes later that he returned to her bedroom.

He was freshly shaved, his hair tamed with some pomade, his white shirt half buttoned, though he was already wearing black trousers and socks. His waistcoat was hanging loose, also unbuttoned. Elain had noticed that his trousers were very finely tailored and he did not rely on braces to hold them up. They moulded to his waist perfectly.

“Couldn’t stay away too long, I suppose,” he said, somewhat sheepishly, looking at her.

Elain smiled at him and he stood still for a few moments, simply observing her, before saying almost to himself, “you are so beautiful.”

“Azriel…my lord,” she gushed, adjusting the white silk ribbon that wrapped around her head and held her hair away from her face.

“Your lord finds you attractive,” he said bluntly. “Shouldn’t it be so?”

Azriel then threaded his cufflinks into the cuffs of his shirt and said, sounding casual and almost disinterested,

“I was thinking,”

Elain was still eating, standing by the window in her sheer little robe, looking outside at the garden below.

When she didn’t respond, he continued with the same nonchalant tone,

“I’d like to renegotiate the contract,”

Before the last syllable left his lips, Elain’s head whipped toward him, her eyes flaring with shock, and her messy braid jerking over her shoulder.

“What?” she gasped. “You want to renegotiate?!”

He stopped momentarily, considering, and then in a gentle tone, like he was soothing a wild animal in distress, said,

“It’s nothing drastic, sweetheart,”

“But you aren’t happy with what we agreed upon?” she insisted, her cheeks colouring with an angry shade of poppy.

“It’s not that I am unhappy,” he started again, but she cut him off and slammed her tea cup on the windowsill with such force, the saucer cracked.

“Elain,” he started with surprise, but she barrelled forth,

“I am not going to change the contract, Azriel. We agreed. You can’t do this when you’ve taken my virginity…you’ve…” she stuttered, trying to find the right words, eyes blazing with fire and tears, “you have…used me…”

At that, Azriel winced.

“That’s unfair,” he snapped at her, his brows creasing.

“Oh is it?!” she cried out.

“Yes. It was on offer. I didn’t take anything from you that we hadn’t agreed upon prior.”

Not necessarily true. Their agreement was of course for traditional relations, and he’d gone much beyond anything that was expected. But she didn’t stop him. She welcomed him into her body. Begged him. Enjoyed it. Moaned and cried from the climaxes that he had offered her.

“I didn’t ‘use’ you, Elain,” he continued, half-angry, half-pleading. “I’ve made it as enjoyable for you as I could,”

She was biting her lower lip, as lone tears were streaming down her pink cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” he stepped closer to her, his voice quiet.

“Because you want to change the contract,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Because you didn’t like it and because,”

“Stop,” he ordered her firmly. “I already told you that I loved being with you. You questioning me every time makes me think that you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that,” she protested softly. “I do believe you…I just,”

“What, Elain? You haven’t even heard my proposal yet,” he reminded her. “And yet you are being highly emotional and contrary,”

“I am not!”

“You are indeed.”

She sniffled and added, “And you’re calling me Elain all the time,”

“That is your name,” he said in confusion.

“But I like it when you call me nice nicknames. I don't like Elain,”

“Well,” he sighed, buttoning his waistcoat, “nice nicknames are reserved for when we are in harmony. Right now is not that time.”

She swallowed and watched the brown mess of her strong tea drip down the windowsill and onto the floor.

“What did you want to change?” she asked finally, seeing how he all but stopped talking and was now tying his silk tie with angry movements.

“I think it’s immaterial now,” he said dryly. “Clearly you aren’t willing to listen,”

“I am though…You’ve sprung this on me quite suddenly, my lord. Should I not be upset? What if I came to you today, a day following our…consummation…and demanded a change in the contract?”

He thought for a moment, his lips pursed, until he finally said,

“You are right. Perhaps it is unfair of me to bring this up. It was thoughtless. Forgive me.”

He pulled on his jacket and said, “I shall see you at dinner. Have a good day.”

Elain turned to him fully and tugged on the sheer lacy sleeves of her dressing gown.

“Wait, sir. Please,” she begged softly.

He stopped.

She approached him slowly and then stopped next to him, as he glowered at her from his massive height.

“What did you want to change, sir?”

He sighed deeply, and then let a curl of her hair spiral around his finger.

“Only that if you do not become pregnant within the six months, we…wait,” he said quietly. “We do not part ways. The money would still be paid as we agreed upon,”

At that, she wrinkled her nose.

The last thing she wanted to discuss now, the morning after their first conjugal relations, was money.

Truth be told, if she could, she wouldn’t even take his money.

Yes, it was absurd–she was well aware–but the money cheapened everything. She knew that that’s exactly why she was here: to get paid, to make her and her sisters’ lives better, to change their fortunes. But if she could, she wouldn’t take the money. He already paid exorbitantly for everything, lavishing her with every comfort and beyond, and further discussion of wages made her uncomfortable.

“But, we give it as much time as we need to. Even if it takes longer. A year. Two…” he concluded.

His gaze was hopeful, and Elain wanted to make him happy. She wanted to please him. But she asked instead,

“And afterwards? You are willing to keep me here for as long as needed before the baby. But afterwards…I would be leaving?”

Something in his eyes shuttered and the warm amber of them became cold and calculated.

“Yes, he said firmly.

“Ahhh,” she kept her cool, though her chest was caving in.

He added, “Nothing about that part of the contract is changing.”

“I see,” Elain said at last.

“Is that a problem?” he pressed.

She shook her head no and said quietly, “it is what we’d agreed upon. Only nothing would be changing in the contract, my lord. Nothing. It’s six months or earlier.”

His jowl ticked and she knew that he was annoyed. Perhaps even angry. But she stood her ground.

At last, Azriel asked, “So you are unwilling to accept new terms then?’

“I am,” she confirmed, her voice steady. “The contract will remain as is.”

“As you wish,” he barked and then turned around and left.

Yes, she wanted to please him. But Elain heard what he was unwilling to speak out loud–he wanted her. He wanted her around him. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her in his house. He wanted to be inside her body. He wanted her to bow to his will, and enjoy what he was giving her. But he was unwilling to budge on the future. Once the child was born, she would be released of any further obligation and on that, Azriel wasn’t going to change his mind. The contract was not changing around that.

So be it.

They had six months. And if nothing came of it, then she was going to leave. Not as wealthy as she would like to, but well off nevertheless. And that would have to be enough.

Alone, she finally changed into one of her nice house dresses and then went to lock the door.

As much as she enjoyed the twins’ company, she needed to be alone today. Much too much has happened to her in the past 24 hours, and she needed time to reflect and adjust. Mainly to her sore ass, if she was being honest with herself. The seed that was still dripping out of her body. To her new status as a woman, and no longer a maid. To the fact that she’d come here on a whim, answered a bizarre add in the London Times, and all of the planning, the worrying, the travels, the lies that she told to her sisters, the preparations–all of it culminated in last night. She was taken roughly, deeply and exquisitely. Nothing in her meagre imagination about carnal relations prepared her for the reality of Azriel’s hot, naked body writhing on top of her, her own animalistic hunger for him, their incredible, painful, raw, glorious joining and so many other things besides. He licked her. Down there. He licked her everywhere. He touched her everywhere. He saw her maidenhead. She did things to him that were not something that she could ever share with a living soul. Not with her virginal sisters, even Nesta, who had read some illegally published explicit romances. Nesta would be just as unprepared as she was. No amount of romances and even erotica could ever come close to the practical essence of what she had experienced.

Therefore, because she couldn't speak to anyone about her experiences, Elain decided on the only thing that was always there for her. It listened. It did not judge. It did not talk back. She could spill her deepest darkest secrets to it, and it would keep them.

Paper.

And her pen.

The idea for the story had come to her after she’d met Lord Night.

She’d change the names. She’d change the settings. She’d even take on a male nom du plume, for she knew that she’d never get published as a female. Not what she was about to write. She doubted that she'd even be published as a man, but there were slightly better chances of that.

She was going to take no prisoners. She was going to take Azriel’s own words and put them on paper. She was going to write sexual scenes. She was going to write about a relationship between an upper class man, who is married to an invalid, with a lower class penniless woman.

Settling on a plush day sofa, which was kind to her butt, Elain took out a couple of blank pieces of paper and dipped her pen into the ink pot.

On top of the page, she scrawled with flourish:

Lord Chatterley’s Lover

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #elain x azriel #elriel fanfic #my writing #elriel fanfiction #the agreement #victorian england #victorian au #chapter 11 #elain #my fanfiction

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