#Stolen Women Captured Hearts

[can-i-press-play]

[epifaniatododia]

HOLD ON

Netflix Brazil might be on to something bc they commissioned this before the release of Arcane

But Cait and Vi are wearing act 3 clothes, and Cait isn’t wearing her jacket…

If this is from their sex scene I SWEAR TO GOD --- Update!! ---

Amanda saw the mural and posted on her Instagram!

“I wasn’t able to capture my feelings about this mural with anything resembling words. But seeing this shook me. A building-sized mural of two women in love, in the center of a major city. Thank you @netflixbrasil for bringing Caitlyn and Vi’s love out of our show and into our world in such a visceral, beautiful, tender way. Brazil, you’ve stolen my heart with this one. 🇧🇷❤️”

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 1

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Drabble / Masterlist / DISCORD SERVER

Preface

Females have begun to decline as swiftly as time has, and that was when males of all races, began to become desperate. This led to women being collected at birth and sold at auction, and they gradually became one of the most coveted items.

Despairing to keep what have to become sacred treasures across the land hidden, parents started to hide their daughters.

You are one of them.

Until, what you had always thought your last hope, the Government issued a large-scale raid for women, and forced you out of hiding, thrown into the house of four powerful monsters.

Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery

Disgusting, filthy, bottom crawlers.

That was the first thought that came to your mind as the Shadow Company of the Government raided your once safe haven. Your body trembled before them as though you were heaved into a freezing lake, left to die. Your breathing was heavy as though you went for a track. Your sweat coated every inch of your skin.

But the cleaver knife and gun in your hand said otherwise.

Heads and hearts exploded each time a deafening noise echoed in everyone's ears, blocking all sounds, but not yours. All you could hear was the beat of your heart, telling you never to stop.

Each second was enough time to burn down another one's story. However, this was the beginning of your tale.

When all you could see was crimson, when all you could hear was the echo of your heart and the clinking of bullet shells, light shone from behind. And you staggered forward, feeling a scorching heat from your stomach and chest, where blood oozed out which never seemed to come to an end—the sign of your freedom already stolen.

In a blink, gone.

After all, a story never begins with one who already has everything.

It was impossible to block out the stifled sobs of all the women around you, even if you had tried cupping your hands over your ears and closing your eyes.

Just like you, who had fought for your freedom, but to no avail, they were captured a week before. However, you couldn't bring yourself to cry. More than anything, you were tired . . . and mad.

You had been shot twice before your capture, and the bullets the Shadows used were laced with poison. Normally, that would only be used to neutralize monsters, but seeing how you murdered people just to escape, the leader must have realized you were more than what you appeared to be.

That, and the fact that only women can bring life to this godforsaken land, were the reason why men and monsters decided to make them their toys. But these women had long lost their will to live their life the way they wanted. The sparks in their eyes that were said to be the undisputed magic which always brings men to their knees, were now gone.

You couldn't exactly pity them when you were about to experience the same. In fact, you were already in the same state as they were: stripped naked for every goddamned eye to see.

Your name echoed in the corridor,  and one of the men, standing guard, dressed in all black, grabbed your arm. He pulled you up to your feet and whispered to your ears, “You better behave out there,” he tightened his grip as he dragged you. “Graves won't hesitate to put another bullet on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We all know I will fetch a great price. You wouldn't want to lose a large sum of money, don't you?”

“Threatening my Shadows again?” A silvery voice emerged from the darkness, taking the form of a man with slicked-back, blond hair, dressed in the finest suit you had ever put an eye on.

Phillip Graves was a monster—a bloodsucking leech in human clothing, leader of the monsters you had blasted a hole in when they rampaged your home, and the very one to make it even by shooting you and capturing you.

He flashed a small smile at you, condescending enough to make your blood boil. He took you from his subordinate, arm snaking around your waist, and pulling you close to him.

Your breasts planted on his chest, making it appear more ample, and on your stomach, you could feel something hard. A grimace appeared on your face and a shiver ran down your spine as his hands traveled from your waist down to your ass. His fingers slowly went south through the gap of your thighs. You loathed this feeling, the cold touch of his calloused fingers, his hard grip, and the strong scent of his cologne mixed with rust—with blood. But if you retaliated, he would break your bones, over and over again, knowing that you could heal faster than most.

And this sadist wouldn't hesitate to take your virginity himself before selling you to others, like a toy that he had already gotten tired of.

“You sure you don't want me to take you?” Phillip leaned down, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. “I can delay your show and we can have some time.”

“No,” you grunted, turning your head to the side, eyeing his servants who watched the movements of Phillip’s hands running over your body.

A chuckle escaped his lips, inhaling your scent as his nose trailed to your temple. “A shame,” he whispered, his sharp fangs grazing your skin, fingers caressing your folds, already slightly soaked.

You bit your lip to hold back the noise threatening to escape from your lips.

He stepped away from you and watched you immediately try to cover yourself with your arms. But oh, you foolish little bird, he could still see every inch of you.

He would take you, sure, if that was what you wanted. But good sex was nothing to a good sum of money. He can buy or rent any woman he pleases, with the price he could get from you. Besides, there were acquaintances of his who wouldn't want a woman who had already been touched.

Plus points, you were educated.

Cons: you fucking know how to kill.

Wherever the fuck you learned to do that.

He brought his fingers to his lips, licking away your fluids that grazed his fingers. “Well, let's get going.” He smiled and took your wrist, like a misbehaving dog on a walk park now being dragged home.

His hand swiped the curtain open and you squinted your eyes, blinded by the overhead lights, until you finally adjusted to the brightness, which followed you and Graves as you climbed up the stairs of a platform. Shame brought your body to flame as every gaze shifted on your naked flesh, chatters that sounded like static echoed endlessly in your ears.

From there, all you desired was for everything to burn.

John Mactavish leaned forward from his seat, bright blue eyes raking upon every inch of your body, but what caught his attention was the condescending look on your eyes, which declared every man in your sight lower than vermins walking on this land. Then, your eyes settled on Mactavish as Phillip Graves began your brief introduction to all the monsters inside the auction, and seemingly to judge his entire existence, he felt himself wanting more of your attention, of whatever you speak. He felt the desire in your gaze, the hunger for eradication.

Oh, you would look glorious sitting on his lap, bouncing up and down on his dick as you please, until you suck him dry. John felt his dick hardening, brushing against the fabric of his pants. He turned on his seat, facing Jonathan Price, whom they considered the leader of their hoard, but before he could utter a word the same man spoke.

“I like this one,” Price declared, making the other two on the same table as them, shift their gazes at him. Price took a long drag from his cigar before he continued. “She reminds me of the time when women stood proud and confident. We barely see that kind of spark in the eyes of females anymore, and I’d like to bring that spark into nothing but a speck of ash.”

“You’re a sadist, Price,” a man in a skull mask remarked, voice low and gruff, snapping his head back as the bidding started, each time a monster spoke, the price got higher.

Price turned his head to the man, his eyes glowing gold like a flame imprisoned within. “Nothing shall burn brighter than my fire, Simon.” He pulled a smirk on his lips, sharp fangs glinting, and motioned at the other one among them, raising his hand. “Kyle, would you please?”

However, before Kyle could raise their designated number, Graves raised a hand, bringing silence to the room, and he began, “Most of you might think that she is just a human, but let me show you something that would assure that she was the most valuable one we have ever had in a hundred years.”

You snapped your neck at Phillip, frowning at his face until his fingernails became dark and sharp like the claws of a wild beast. With a swift movement, his nails dragged on your arm, making you wince in pain, and blood began to run down. Each plop of blood on the floor made monsters gulp and each centimeter of the wound closed made monsters rise from their feet.

Even Phillip Graves had a hard time resisting the sight of blood and forcing himself on you for the sake of money.

Who wouldn’t want a woman who can take this much damage? Who wouldn’t want a woman who would ensure their offspring would come out stronger?

Then, a booming laughter echoed across the sea of yells, surfacing among others. Just as you turned to see where it came from, a flash of yellow came into your sight, and you leaned back, your heart leaping to your throat when a man towered over you.

Not a man. A monster.

Devil's incarnate.

Sharp horns sprouted from his forehead. On his back, a pair of leathery wings unrolled and a thick, scaly tail slapped Graves away from you before he could complain. And with a single sniff, a huff which brought the smell of smoke up your nostrils, Price’s eyes flashed gold.

“We’re bringing you home.” He pushed his lips onto yours, scaly hands wrapping around your waist, sharp claws scraping your skin. You tried to push him off, but one of his hands grabbed your hand so tight you thought your bones would break.

You whimpered against his mouth, making him chuckle and bite down on your lower lip, his fang piercing through the fragile skin. You tasted blood on your tongue and so did he as you were heaved up, forced to wrap your legs around his waist. Your cunt brushed onto the harsh fabric of his pants and the growing tent between them.

You bit back a moan and pulled away. “Stop—” But his hand pulled you back into his fervent, disgusting kiss. He left his marks on the expanse of your collarbone, then down to the valley of your breasts, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he reached on your head, pulling on your tresses.

It made you turn your head and you watched three other men get on the platform as well—one who appeared to be the most normal-looking among them, giving two cases of money to Graves, who didn’t seem much pleased after he was shoved off stage.

And before this very crowd, you were brought back the curtains and to God knows where.

May we all have seats reserved in hell already.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER

Comment if you want to be on the taglist

[shadyshaylee114]

FULL STORY WILL POST IN PARTS TOMORROW

Thank you @specsthesecond for letting me use your plot idea!

🐊 Crocodile hybrid Sherrif who becomes quite fond of the new outlaw in his town. Every time you outsmart him and get away it just makes his dick harder and his heart beat faster. When he finally catches you, after one hell of a chase, he doesn't drag you to the jailhouse but instead to his home. He's rambling on about how someone so cunning and resourceful would be the perfect mate and how he'll breed you full of his eggs to prove it to you.

Sheriff crocodile x outlaw reader (mild violence) (brief mention of loss) (eggs)

You pulled your hair underneath your black hat looking at the rail cart across from you. In and out. Well that was the plan aslong as the sheriff didn't show up. You had moved into town a couple months ago starting with petty theft to test the waters. Taking a pocket watch here, a womens pendant there. Snatching coin pouches with ease. You had noticed the sheriff of course taking note of all law enforcement in any town you went into. You had dealt with hybrids they where still people just normally faster and with heavy animal features. A crocodile was new to you though. Sheriff Dryeden was a sight. For being what you assumed a cold blooded reptile.

He stood at 12"6' his tail dragged behind him as he walked at 1.8 meters long.  He's a greenish-drab color with black stripes and spots on his body and tail. His underbelly was a almost white color from what you could tell from under his uniform. You found him incredibly attractive with his stupid shiny sheriff badge on his chest, his stupid sheriff hat, and his stupid yellow eyes that almost pierced your soul with ever glance.

The first time he noticed you was when you had stolen a bottle of liquor from the saloon owner. He had been meeting up with the mayor and didn't hesitate to take off after you. Luckily you where incredibly smart and fast on your feet  managing to escape him, you went down an alley way and onto the back of your horse. Dryeden was in shock he'd been a fighter since he was a boy no one had escaped him. As he watched you flee on the back of your horse he felt his heart race for the first time in along time.

He continued trying to catch you. Yet you where always one step ahead managing to avoid getting caught by him. The time you robbed the bank he nearly caught you in the vault but you slid into the crowd unnoticed. When you robbed the mayor's home and escaped on the back of a farmers cart hiding amongst his vegetables.

The more dryeden chased you the more he felt the desire to keep you for himself grow.

  Unfourtantly for you that damn crocodile was fast and smart he was always making it harder for you to get away. It started to seem like he knew what you wanted before you even did. If this town didn't have money, You would have already left town to avoid capture.

But you weren't one to let opportunities slip from your fingers , and that freshly mined gold was calling your name. The last job always being the biggest for you. It should be simple you didn't need the whole cart just a couple nuggets. Using the cover of the night you quietly slid up to the rail cart smiling brightly at the gold. Grabbing a couple nuggets sliding them into your bag you noticed the night had gone quiet.

"Why howdy Sheriff Dryeden." You said smiling turning to face the hybrid.

"I'm not letting you get away this time." He growled his eyes glowing under the lights from the mine shaft.

"What a hoot sheriff we both know you aren't going to catch me. I'm to clever for you." You purred placing your palms flat on the rail cart. As Dryden went to step foward you hoped over the rail cart taking off into the mine shaft.

Dryden pushed the rail cart over with a loud crash taking off after you with a roar. You could hear the pounding of his feet behind you. You cursed feeling the rush of air as his claws barely missed your arm. Taking a sharp turn you nearly avoided running into a empty cart.

Sliding quickly you stumbled as your feet struggled to catch traction. You panicked he was catching up fast. Finally pulling yourself together you barely managed to avoid getting slammed into by the sheriff. As he slammed into the wall the sound from the force rattled the walls. If you didn't get out he might make the mine collapse on you both.

He roared as you picked up speed. You had to find away back to the entrance it was the only way out you knew. Running as fast as you could you noticed that you where coming up on one of the stabilizer beams. You could tell that the sheriff was right behind you.

Quickly as you started to pass the pole you threw your hand out using your speed and momentum to turn you around putting you back in the direction you had come from. The sheriff snarled as he slid on the lose dirt trying to stop himself. He used his tail to try and stabilzize himself during the fall. As his chest sid onto the dirt he reached out with his hand wrapping it tight around your ankle. Yanking you down with him.

Letting out a startled cry that was cut short as your chest slammed into the ground. You kicked your leg back aiming for his face. He quickly caught your leg moving his face aside. Dryden could feel himself pressing against his cloaca what a sight you where! He finally had his claws on you after so many chases. He could hear his heart beating the fastest it every has.

Your ankles where in either hand spread out before him as you struggled to escape his grasp. His eyes focused in on your ass watching it move as you tried to pull your legs free clawing at the dirt in a desperate attempt to break free. He moved himself into a kneeling postion flipping you onto your back. He couldn't help but chuckle at the glare on your face.

"You're under arrest. I've caught you little outlaw so it's best you stop struggling. I'd hate to have to hurt your pretty face." He stated moving one clawed hand to grab your wrist placing the shackles from his belt securely onto you. He slid back down rubbing his snout against your cunt moaning softly at your scent. You glared at his actions pulling on your leg trying to get it free once more.

He pulled you over his shoulder as he stood to his feet. You winced in pain as some of his scutes dug into your stomach.

"Come on sheriff just let me go and I'll leave your town." You pleaded knowing the towns people would have you hanged for your crimes. But the sheriff ignored your pleas exiting the mine.

"I'm not taking you to the jailhouse." He stated you blinked confused.

"Where are you taking me then?" Was he just going to kill you himself. Crocodile hybrid didn't eat humans right?

"To my home. Where I'm going to make you my mate." Dryden was blunt not even trying to hide his intentions.

"What? Why me? I'm an outlaw and your the law!" You cried out. Dryden had noticed that you hadn't said anything about being against him being your mate. Making his crocidle face break into a wide smile.

"Your cunning and resourceful you will be the perfect mate and I'm going breed you full of my eggs to prove it to you." He almost dropped you as the scent of your arousal filled his scense of smell at his words. "See my little outlaw your already readying yourself to take my eggs."

"No way your crazy!" You shouted trying to deny that the thoughts of being breed by the crocodile hybrid hadn't already been flooding your mind since the first day he'd chased you out of the saloon. He continued to ignore your cries and struggles as he made his way to his home. After a decent walk you had finally arrived. Dryden entered his home taking you straight to the nest.

You bounced as he dropped you finally allowing you to see something other then his back. You took in the room it was bright shades of green giving a swampy look.

"You miss home often sheriff."  You said softly. Dragging your hand along the nest he'd dropped you on. The nest was incredibly soft. It was mound-like made from vegetation's mostly tall grasses.

"Yes very often but the nest was made for you." You looked at him with a glare at his statement.

"I'm not gonna keep telling you sheriff you're crazy if you think I'm staying here." He titled his head at you giving you that wide crocodile grin.

"Please little outlaw try to run again I do love chasing you." You scowled at him, he was diffently getting on your nerves.

  "So what are you going to do to me?" You asked your curiosity getting the best of you.

"I'm going to make you my mate. Watch you carry my eggs and keep you full of them so you can never leave myside. You're so wise and capable you're exactly who I've been looking for." He stated with a shrug slipping out of his shirt.

He turned his back as he undid his belt going to slip out of his jeans. You looked at the room entrance and didn't hesitate jumping out of the nest. Dryden groaned in delight he'd been hoping you'd be foolish enough to give him another chase before he breed you. After all once you carried his eggs he couldn't allow you to run.

Quickly turning around he took off after you, chuckling when he noticed you going away from the exit. He smiled deciding he wanted to see how strong of a swimmer you where. He appeared in front of you making you slip and curse. You turned around seeing a door you flung it open and as you stepped inside you fell into what appeared to be a small pond.

"Your nesting room is new. This is my pond though. I miss the water most." He said standing in the doorway watching you calmly.

"I built it myself." He added clearly proud of the pond. If it wasn't for the fact you had just fallen in, you'd notice how beautiful it was.

You were swimming with ease. You learned how to swim in a creek bed when you where 6. Your life had always been hard so alittle water couldn't stop you.

"Well thank you for the fast introduction." You snapped sarcastically. He laughed his reptile eyes almost seeming to have more of a purple color.

"I wanted to see if you could swim. The last thing I'd want is for our offsprings to drown you." He was still giving you that wide smile. You found yourself smiling as well.

"Well you succeeded. I can swim but we won't be having offsprings. The towns people will kill me for my crimes." You where cornered and need to convince Dryeden to let you leave.

"We don't have to worry about that I made it very clear to the mayor that once we are mated you will return everything you took. I also already paid for the  liquor you stole." As he spoke he slid into the water. "It's to dangerous for me to take you in the water so let's go back to your nest and dry off." He was slowly swimming towards you. You knew very well how fast he was on land in this pond. His pond you didn't stand a chance.

But still you'd be dammed if you just gave in to him. You were patiently waiting for Dryeden to swim closer to you. Just as he reached out to pull you into his chest. You divided underneath him making a break for the doorway.

Dryeden groaned feeling his cock pushing on his cloaca begging to be released to breed his mate. Taking off after you he quickly caught up wrapping his arms around your small frame. He easily carried you out of the water pressed tightly to his chest.

"My sweet mate no more chasing." He growled. You currently where clinging to him as he walked.

"I'm not returning my stuff!" You shouted starting to struggle again. He snarled at your words bringing his hand down rough on your ass. You squeaked at the sudden strike going rigid. "Did you just spank me?" You hissed out.

"I did my little outlaw and I plan on making your cute ass red until you agree to return the items you took." He slid into your nesting room and set you down on your feet keeping one clawed hand tight on your arm. "I'm going to let go don't run I'm done chasing you I will take you wherever I catch you next. So if you don't want you clothes ripped to shreds remove them now." You glared at his words and began to undress not wanting to ruin your clothes for when you try to run again.

He gave that crocidle smile that you where starting to fall in love with noticing that the purple in his eyes showed everytime he smiled at you.

"You are absolutely a site to behold my darling Lantana." He moaned out taking in the site of your naked body. He stepped foward dragging his hands along your soft flesh. He groaned as he closed his hand around one of your breast. Using his clawed fingers to roll and pinch at your nipples loving the site of them hardening thanks to him. He drew back his hand landing another solid hit to your ass. This one made you yelp jumping alittle closer him.

He used the opportunity to pull you against his chest. Your hardened nipples rubbing against his scales. You let out a soft moan at the feeling. He slid down to a almost bowing postion resting the underside of his head on the top of yours.

"I'll take care of you. We could protect the town together. You'll never want or need anything again. I'll keep you safe, full, and loved. Please my Lantana say yes. Say you chose me to." He begged running his hand thru your hair and down your back. Applying just enough pressure to have you trembling but not enough to do any harm by his claws.

  Gentle you placed your arms around his side placing a soft kiss to his scaled chest.

"Yes Dryeden I want to be your mate." You whispered against him as you trailed kisses along anywhere you could reach.

"You speak the truth little outlaw?" He whinned his grip tightening.

"You'll return everything you took?" He asked hesitating.

"I speak the truth Dryeden. I'll return everything I took. I like the thought of staying with you no more running and hiding." You where afraid. You'd been an outlaw since a child but the thought of living in comfort and stability with Dryeden made your heart race.

"Ah my sweet Lantana!" He cries in delight. Pulling back he looked down at you. At the soft look on his face you placed a soft kiss on his nose. He whinned in need. Lefting you up with ease he placed you on the nest hovering above you.

  You smiled brightly at him and it was as though his world had caved in. You were his everything. His heart, his soul if you had refused to give up being an outlaw he'd have joined you and you didn't even know it.

"Well Sherrif are you going to mate me or just stare at me." You teased. This time when you looked into his eyes it was a mix between purple and red. As you went to ask him he opened his mouth just enough to stick his tongue down your throat. You whinned as he kissed you deep. The feeling of his tongue in your mouth making you wet. He pulled back a almost soft frown on his face.

"We will have to practice kissing my mate I feel as though I'm just fucking your pretty throat with my tongue." He said a hint of annoyance in his voice as he stared down at your lips. You burst into laughter you'd had never felt such joy before.

"We will have plenty of time to practice everything." You whispered kissing along the scales on his neck. He shuddered at the feeling of you playing with one if the scutes that trailed down his spine.

He pulled back dragging his clawed hands along your body as he reached your stomach you flinched. One of his claws had nicked your stomach. He froze licking the blood off your stomach.

"I'll file my nails down more later for now this will have to do." He said, biting off the nails of his index finger and middle finger. Gently dragging one of his fingers along your clit. You moaned at the feeling. Trailing off into a whine as the finger slid into your eager opening. "I have to stretch you for my cock or you'll never take all of me." He growled adding in the second finger sliding his thumb onto your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his scaled fingers stretching you.

"Oh little outlaw your such a site your pretty pussy clenching around my fingers. Shes soaking me wanting to be stuffed full with my cock." You cried out at his words your back arching as he pushed his fingers in deeper. It felt like he was searching for something within your needy cunt.

Your eyes rolled back and let out a silent sound as he pushed onto your g-spot. He growled in delight focusing on that spot while rubbing his thumb in circles on your clit. He continued to fuck you with his fingers. Rotating between pressing against your g-spot and scissoring you as wide open as he could.

"Your getting close my Lantana I can feel how tight you are getting  around my fingers. Cum for me my precious flower." With a cry you came undone on his fingers back arching as he worked you through your orgasam.

"Dreyden please I need you." You whinned reaching out to your mate. Pouting as Dreyden shook his head at you.

"You have to cum atleast two more times to make sure you dont get hurt taking my cock and eggs." He huffed sliding down to place himself between your legs. You looked at him taking in the look on his face. He was enchanting. The look of pure desire written on his face. He gave you that crocodile smile. Opening his mouth and snapping his teeth at the fingers you'd allowed to pet his nose.

"If your going to make me cum again what are you doing all the way down there?" You asked teasing. Dreyden chuckled at your words. He lowered himself more making sure his hands where tight on your waist. You watched as he opened his mouth wide clamping his teeth against your stomach. The feeling of his breath against your cunt made you whimper. Dreyden dragged his tongue along your ass slowly pushing his tongue inside of your clenching cunt.  He whimpered at the taste of your juices.

Your eyes rolled back as you let out a whine. His tongue was as large as a cock and stretching you wide. You looked back down at him your fingers digging into the nest. Dreyden took in every sound, move, and look that you made. His teeth clamped tight enough to draw blood as he slowly moved his tongue inside of you.

He stroked the inside of your cunt with his thick tongue. You trembled as he started to get more aggressive. Increasing the pace of his tongue as he began to feast.

You tasted better then anything he'd ever tasted he'd decided he could live between your legs if you'd let him. Living only off of the taste of you. 

You couldn't take your eyes off of Dreyden. He was lazily moving his tongue inside of your core. Feasting upon you as though you where the last fruit standing in this awful desert.

You gently places your hand on the tip of his nose moaning softly. You pathetically tried to role your hips to receive more friction, but couldn't move an inch between Dreyden's jaw holding you in place and his hands gripping your thighs.

Dreyden groaned deciding to take mercy upon both of you. He snarled using his strength to fuck your body onto his tongue. He knew he should make you come one more time after this but he couldn't take it anymore he needed to be inside of you.

He listened to your sweet sounds as you came on his tongue flooding his senses with the taste and the scent of your release. You felt tears falling down your face Dreyden had already made you cum twice and you knew he intended to do it again.

"Please Dreyden I want you to breed me now." You sniffled hoping to convince your new mate to have pity on your overstimulated mind.

"Aww my poor Lantana. As you wish I'll fill you up with my eggs now." He smirked down at you moving himself back to give you a view of his cloaca. You licked your lips following him into a sitting postion. As you gently trailed the outer lips of his cloaca, Dreyden growled his pupils dilating like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

"My Lantana lay your hand out flat for me." He moaned. You were quick to do as he asked.

Eyes widening as his huge cock slid past the barrier of his cloaca landing right into your open palm. You took in the site of his cock nothing like a humans. He had to be atleast 15in if not more. His cock was covered in small ridges that almost reminded you of his scutes. And the tip was more open clearly to allow his eggs out.

"So male hybrids can produce eggs and sperm?" You asked curious as you continued to explore his cock with your hands.

"Really little one? You wish to ask questions now?" He asked. Closing his jaw tight with a sharp inhale as swirled your finger around the opening.

"Yes. I want to know." You stated. Dreyden noticed your guard was climbing up as you continued to look at his cock.

"We will take it slow My Lantana. There is no need for you to be afraid." He snarled grabbing your hand.

"Please Dreyden just tell me really quick. I'm a human we aren't normally suppose to carry eggs." You whinned looking him in the eyes his eyes. He sighed.

"If it will bring you comfort I'll explain it. Yes the males of my kind carry both eggs and sperm. The eggs begin to form when we find someone who we select as a perfect mate. My sperm will help adjust your body to aid you in carrying our eggs." He huffed out his half hearted explanation. Once you were carrying his eggs he'd teach you everything you could possibly wish to know.

Dreyden pushed you back down using his strength to flip you onto your stomach. He cupped his hand around your belly partially to keep you stable but mostly because he wanted to feel you swelling with his eggs.

You whinned as Dreydens cock dragged along your folds seeking out the entrance to your wipping cunt. He pulled back taking his cock into his free hand he slowly slid the tip into you.

He growled as he took his time slowly pushing inch by inch into your clenching cunt. As he hit half way in, he dropped himself down using one hand to keep his weight off you. All while incasing your body with his own. Keeping his other hand cupped tight against your stomach his claws digging in just enough to bring you a light pain amongst all the pleasure.

"Your so tight around me my Lantana. I can feel ever ripple of your sweet little pussy as she begs for me to stuff her full." He moaned out pushing himself in deeper. You where a whimpering mess beneath him letting out moans everytime he pushed himself in more. As he found that he couldn't go any deeper he let out a annoyed rumble.

Pulling himself out he flipped you onto your back smiling at the site of you. Your hair was a mess and your pupils had expanded. Soft sounds left your lips as you reached out to him.

"Bite into my scales." He ordered. He dragged the side of his mouth along your head. Letting some of his canines scratch along the top of your ear. You moaned biting down lightly onto his chest. "Oh sweet heart your going to bite harder then that."

He pushed the tip of his cock in. You let out a cry biting down onto hard onto his chest. He thrusted all the way into your cunt. You could truly feel him now he was pressed right into your cervix the ridges on his cock gently rubbing against your g spot. Dreyden started with slow shallow thurst allowing you to stretch around him. Your fingers dug into his back while your teeth tried to pierce his scales.

You felt tears falling down your face in full force as Dreyden began to move faster. His rough pace rubbing your chest along his own. He pounded into your poor cunt finally pulling back to hear your sweet cries.

"Your crying my Lovely Mate. Yet I won't stop. The site of your pretty little pussy clenching around my cock is all I'll ever think about again." He snarled watching the way your stomach bulged with every thrust.

"Your so good taking my cock so well. I can't wait for you to cum all over my cock and swallow my eggs into your womb." He growled dragging your leg up against his side pushing himself in deeper. You let out only what could be described as a high pitch whine. As you began to coat his cock with your cum. Dreyden let out a growl.

"That's it. My Lantana your cumming so hard for me." He moaned continuing with his brutal pace.

"Dreyden! Please I need just a second." You sobbed trying to wiggle away from him. You where to sensitive and Dreyden wasn't letting up.

"It's to much for you is it? My poor girl, I won't be stopping tell your womb is heavy with my eggs." He growled pulling you up to push deeper and rub your clit against the softer scales on his abdomen.

"Ah I could keep you cumming on my cock." He moaned rocking his hips slowly giving you a moment to catch your breath. You let out soft moans as he slowly rocked his hips keeping his eyes on you.

"That's it beautiful relax on my cock I can't have you so upset and tense when I fill you up." He cooed at you wiping the tears from your cheeks with his large hand. You nuzzled his palm sniffling from the tears you had shed. Dreyden let a couple minutes pass tell the ripples of your climax dulled down to soft clenches. Softly biting your lip you looked at your mate.

"Oo..okay.. Dreyden. . I think I'm ready. I want your eggs." You whimpered out nibbling on your lip. He nodded starting back up with some soft shallow thrust. Building up into a rougher pace.

He began to brutally pound against your cervix listening only to your sweet cries as his eggs began to push against his cloaca. It was time for him to fill you up.

He pulled back almost slipping out ,before thrusting back down roughly. This allowed the head of his cock to slip into your cervix giving his eggs access to your womb.

You tensed up almost trying to pull away as unfamiliar pressure began at the entrance of your cunt. You closed your eyes grinding your teeth. You felt the first egg work it's way up to your cervix before it pushed it's way inside settling against the wall of your womb. You moaned softly trembling trying to pull away as the next egg began to make it's way.

"Don't fight it Lantana, you doing such a good job for me. Already holding one of our eggs you can take the rest." He whispered trying his best to keep you at easy. He reached down using one clawed thumb to play with your clit as the second egg entered your womb. You moaned once again feeling tears fall down your face.

How could something feel so incredible yet uncomfortable at the same time. Dreyden rocked his hips watching your tight cunt swallow his eggs as they pushed there way inside. He swallowed,  your belly was beginning to swell as the third egg had made its way inside.

"Dreyden... how many eggs are there?" You whimpered eyes sliding closed as the eggs continued to make there way inside.

"My eggs have been forming since we meet at the saloon my little outlaw. I'm guessing atleast six." He grunted out thrusting a little deeper to adjust the eggs already resting inside of you. You whinned out at his actions cracking your eyes open enough to glare at him.

"We are only at three right now My Lantana. You can only take one egg at a time." You looked at him feeling a little annoyed at his words.

"All I can feel is you and the eggs." You whimpered rocking your own hips. Feeling the fourth and fifth egg push there way in.

He groaned the sixth was the biggest he could fell his own cloaca struggling with the size.

"My little Lantana this last egg is big. You have to stay calm. Once its inside ill make you cum again. " He whispered nuzzling against your chest. At the pressure forming inside your cunt you knew his words to be true. The other eggs had been uncomfortable but this egg was thick spreading you open even wider on Dreydens cock.

"Dreyden. I can't." You sobbed out trying to wiggle away from him and the egg.

"You have to be a good girl and take it." He snarled grabbing your hips and thrusting himself foward. You whinned shaking your head as the pressure intensified.

You wanted to do nothing more then to make Dreyden proud of you for being able to carry all his eggs. Plus the thought of one of your eggs not making it because of you broke your heart. So half heartdly you rolled your hips back taking the egg and Dreydens cock deeper.

"There we go. Look at that so spread open for me so willing to push yourself to take all my eggs." He cooed spreading your lips open to get a better view of his cock being swallowed up by your cunt. As the final egg pushed into your womb you let out a broken sob sinking your teeth into your own hand. Dreyden reached out wipping away at your tears.

"Shhh, your okay it's all the way in now sweet." He cooed licking at your knuckles.  As you settled your head onto his chest breathing slowing he chuckled.

"We aren't done yet My Lantana your gonna cum one more time so I can fertilize our eggs." He purred rocking his hips.

He settled into a steady pace allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. Slowly thrusting into you. You where already worn out and he wanted to let you rest. Appling more pressure to your clit and giving a couple more thrust he smiled as you came.

He growled as he pulled back to take in the site of his beautiful mate. Your stomach bloated with his eggs your face covered in tears. Dreyden came at the site coating your womb and his eggs with seed. He moaned giving shallow thurst to keep the cum pushed into your cunt.

Dreyden finally pulled out after a couple minutes. Slowly watching as thick glops of his cum slid out of your cunt. He slowly pushed the cum back  feeling inside your cunt to make sure the eggs where being held safely.

"You did such a good job!My beautiful Lantana all six of our eggs are safely in your womb." He said rubbing his face against your swollen belly. You slowly touched your own stomach feeling the eggs.

"Six babies?" You whispered in awe.

"Yes six! Ill keep you full of my cum for the next 90 days then we will lay the eggs so they can hatch on there own." He stated his eyes shinning with excitment. He had found his perfect mate. You would now be his forever nothing would take you from him.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Thirteen

Fool's Fare: Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Flashback Chapter, Cursing, I played around with mythology in this one, Myths, Curses, Magic, Deals, Mentions of death, Mentions of suicide, Smoking pipes (Tobacco), Regret, Angst, some fluff. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I've missed something!

Word Count: 4.6k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Smoke wafted towards the ceiling, disappearing into the air before the soft tendrils could reach the wooden rafters. The glow of the embers illuminated Tom’s face as he sucked the tobacco smoke into his lungs, the burn a familiar comfort to him after so many years. Blue eyes scanned the crowded room, men gulping down mouthfuls of ale as women sauntered around the room looking for their bed fellow of the night. Laughter broke out on the far side of the room, cheers following it as the last hand of cards was revealed.

These too were familiar to him.

“Don’t suppose the information we were given was wrong,” Beau muttered beside him. Tom’s eyes drifted over to him, studying the quartermaster. Tom wasn’t sure he altogether liked Beau very much, but he trusted the man, and in this life, trust was worth its weight in gold. While Tom knew the quartermaster was loyal, he also knew that Beau’s interest aligned with his own.

“He’ll be here,” he replied, shifting in his chair to lean back, feet propping up on the table. A pretty, young woman strolled casually over to him, fixing him with a sultry gaze and a confident smile. Tom waved her off, earning a pout, but he paid her no mind. He was on a mission tonight, waiting for a man he knew would show his face sooner rather than later.

Pete Mitchell was a right bastard as far as Tom was concerned—the newly appointed captain of the Maverick had earned himself quite the reputation even before earning the mantle from his predecessor.

Tales of the new captain capturing and sinking enemy ships had made their way to every port along the coasts, whispers twisting tales until no one knew what was true and what was falsehood. What had remained consistent, however, was the fact that the young captain had been going around boasting about how no man could best him, not even Davy Jones himself.

Tom wouldn’t stand for that.

The door to the pub opened with a sharp crack to the wall behind it, a smirking young man with fine features, dark hair, and blazing, blue eyes roving over the scene before him.

“That’s him,” Beau whispered, and Tom let out a low grunt in acknowledgement, watching the young man strut into the room like he owned the place. Tom’s jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth, feeling his own irritation rolling off of him in waves. The lad seemed to sense him because his gaze turned to fix on the older man, a brow arching curiously. Slowly, Pete walked over to him, confidence shining from every pore as a lazy smirk curled on his lips. He didn’t wait to be invited to sit, he simply did—the chair knocking against the stone floor as he plopped down in the seat. The man who followed him, much taller than the captain and mustache adorning his upper lip, peered around anxiously before fixing his eyes on Tom and Beau. Tom surmised that he must be Pete’s quartermaster, Nick Bradshaw.

Tom turned his attention back to Pete as the younger man’s smirk became a full-blown grin.

“Evenin’, pops,” he greeted, nodding at him from across the table. Tom felt the vein in his forehead pulse with irritation, leaning back in his chair with a creak and another drag from his pipe. Tom studied the young man before him, noting how at ease he seemed to be despite the dangerous aura that rolled off of Tom in waves. Men twice this boy’s age cowered in his presence, and yet here he was—grinning like a cheshire cat.

It pissed him off.

“You know,” Pete drawled, leaning back to mirror the older captain, “it’s considered polite to answer back.”

Tom snorted, bringing the pipe away from his mouth and staring down the young captain.

“Pleasantries fly out the window once I hear of some upstart going around boasting about how none can best him—even Davy Jones himself.”

“I haven’t even seen you on the seas, old timer,” Pete grinned. “You think I’d beat you like all the others?”

“I think I’d sink your ship in ten seconds flat without even raising my voice,” Tom spat, earning a wary side-eye from his quartermaster.

“Tom here doesn’t exactly appreciate people invoking his name needlessly,” Beau supplied, shifting in his seat as waves of anger rolled off the captain. “Especially when it’s spoken in boast of oneself.”

Pete’s brow arched as his quartermaster’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Nick spoke, leaning forward to look over his own captain’s shoulder. “We don’t even know your name.”

Tom hummed, tapping his fingers on the top of the table. “I think you do.”

A moment of silence passed between the four men, the rowdy crowd around them continuing on in their revelry as if nothing were amiss. It was Pete who broke the silence first.

“You’re supposed to be a myth,” he murmured, all trace of mirth gone from his face. “A legend.”

“Any sailor worth his salt knows not to invoke names of power,” Tom retorted. “Names themselves have power. You shouldn’t speak the name of anything whose wrath you don’t want to earn.”

“And is that what I’ve done?” Challenged Pete, squaring his shoulders as Nick gave him an exasperated look. “Have I incurred the wrath of Davy Jones?”

Tom considered him for a moment. The gall of this man was something Tom hadn’t seen in decades, and he found that he quite liked the challenge the young captain was issuing him. He tried to remember the last time someone had done so so openly and brazenly.

“You’ve certainly incurred the annoyance of Tom,” he replied finally, not missing the sharp look Beau shot his way. Pete frowned in confusion.

“Tom?”

“That’s my name,” he replied with a shrug, inhaling from his pipe as he watched the younger man process his words.

“I thought you were Davy Jones?” Pete asked finally, lips pursed as his guard was up.

“Davy Jones is more of a…moniker,” Tom supplied, closing his eyes as he basked in the warmth of the tobacco in his lungs. “Has a better ring to it than Thomas, wouldn’t you say?”

The young captain stared at him in disbelief before letting out a humorless chuckle.

“You aren’t at all what I was expecting,” Pete mused, and Tom snorted.

“You weren’t expecting much,” he countered. “You didn’t even think I was real until a few moments ago.”

The two men talked well into the night, and Tom had grown a sort of strange fondness for the plucky captain. You’d never get him to admit that he felt somewhat impressed by the stories Pete told him of the several ships he had managed to capture, but he was sure Pete caught the way his eyes alighted with intrigue. As dawn broke above the horizon, the sky painted in a hushed blue and warm pink, the captains bid farewell to each other, Tom warning the young captain one more time to not invoke his name lest there be consequences.

Years passed, and in that time, Tom and his crew had taken many treasures from doomed ships, the begging of crews falling on deaf ears. The captain of the Flying Dutchman having long lost feeling in his heart for the plight of others. No, in this world there was only take, his endless life proof of that.

His crew was not dead, not in any way that may truly matter. Rather, they sat in limbo thanks to a god long thought dead—a goddess that Tom had betrayed.

Thetis had been beautiful, strong, and perhaps the most coveted woman in antiquity at one time. Tom, who had gone by a name he had long forgotten at that time, had wooed the goddess, and perhaps at one time he would have said he even loved her. Together, they had seven sons, but only one would grow to be a man, the others lost to mortality. Thetis had been driven mad with grief, and Tom had closed himself off completely.

Perhaps it was a mixture of pride and the folly of his youth that had led him to betray her. The now faded memories of sailing with a band of his brothers had filled his mind then, and Tom had decidedly wanted more. He knew his wife held great magic in her hands, and he had begged her to use it to secure him power over the seas. Of course, she had been reluctant at first, warning him of the dangers that came from such a request, but Tom had been insistent. The first moment he held the star in his hand, he knew he had doomed himself.

He had left shortly after, leaving his wife heartbroken and his son in the care of a trusted friend. His wife had bestowed power to him, and Tom was ever the fool to think that it had been anything other than her final act of revenge.

He and his crew were doomed to limbo, to wander the seas forever craving more from those who were unfortunate to cross their paths. Time passed around them, and it wasn’t long until Tom learned of his son’s tragic fate, mourning him as best he could despite the never-ending greed that gripped his heart. Time marched forever forward, and soon Tom took on new name after new name until one day he realized he had no memory of who he once was.

The star had been lost to him, having lost it in a gamble or having misplaced it at some point—he wasn’t sure. He wanted it back though, but no matter how hard he tried, the star remained lost to him. The magic cursed to him by his estranged wife, however, made him slave to the whims of the ocean, his name crossing into legend then myth. He took up the moniker of Davy Jones, a name that now struck fear into the heart of every sailor that sailed the seven seas.

All except one.

It was a dreary day when Tom felt the call. Mist clung to his skin as the ship moved forward in the dark waves, an eery silence surrounding him when he felt the call of his name.

It had taken a while for him to notice the first time it happened. His name a beacon on the waves for those sentenced to death on the ocean’s surface. But, soon he realized the call that stirred deep within him. Where the call came, treasure awaited.

Tom signaled to the helmsman to change course, the ship creaking in protest against the crashing waves. Still, the ship spurred on at an unnatural pace, and it wasn’t long before Tom realized he had been summoned to the shore off of southern Massachusetts. He frowned at the location, choosing to go ashore himself and leave his crew behind until he could determine what was happening.

Tom secured the lifeboat up onto the shore, confident that it was far enough inland that the tide wouldn’t pull it back out should he take long. The sand shifted beneath his feet as he walked along the shore, the summons guiding him to where he needed to go. The sun was drifting towards the skyline, the sparse clouds above streaming past up above as his eyes scanned the beach for what he was looking for. It wasn’t long before he came upon a familiar figure sitting amongst the rocks.

Pete was older than Tom had last seen him, only three years having passed since the last time they had seen each other—ten since the first time they had met. Strands of grey started to spot against Pete’s temples, lines littering his face to give him a more distinguished look. He looked up as Tom approached, smiling in way of greeting as the old, sea captain came to a stop beside him, dropping down next to him with a grunt. Tom pulled out his pipe, striking a match and puffing on the old, wooden piece as he let out a sigh.

“Been a while since I seen you,” he offered up after a moment’s silence. Pete nodded with a hum, turning his attention back to the sea.

“It has,” Pete agreed.

“Didn’t exactly part on the best of terms last time,” Tom continued.

“No,” Pete acquiesced. “We didn’t.”

“I don’t have the power to bring the dead back, Pete,” the older man reminded him. “The magic doesn’t work that way.”

“So you said,” Pete muttered, and Tom let out another sigh.

“I’d bring Nick back if I could,” he frowned, shoulders stiff. “You know that.”

Nick’s death had been a terrible accident—a stray bullet lodging into his heart during the heat of battle. Pete had taken it hard, locking himself away to mourn the loss of his most trusted friend. Nick had been a good man, though he had his secrets. Pete had mentioned that Nick had a wife and child tucked somewhere secret that he’d visit from time to time. Not even Pete knew where Nick would run off to during those times.

“I do,” Pete agreed. The two sat in silence for a few moments more before Tom rolled his shoulders, inhaling the tobacco smoke once more.

“So why’ve you brought me out here, then?” Tom prodded.

“Do you remember that girl I told you about?”

Tom paused. He did remember Pete mentioning a girl he’d been spending time with. “Penny, right?” He asked.

Pete nodded, a small smile creeping on his face at the mention of her name. Tom vaguely recalled seeing the girl on one of his last visits with Pete, a pretty thing with a fire that matched the young captain’s. Tom was surprised that she had managed to stick around.

“What about her?” Tom asked, peering over at the other captain.

“We’re married now.”

Tom started at that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever peg Pete as the marrying type, but he supposed he wasn’t one to talk.

“Married,” he echoed with a low hum.

“Two years now. Three in April,” Pete grinned.

“You called me out here to tell me that you’re married?” Tom snorted, the embers of his pipe glowing in the fading light as he inhaled once more.

“Actually,” Pete started, “I’m here to ask a favor.”

“A favor,” Tom echoed once more, this time with a frown. Pete knew there was a price to Tom’s favors—it was the way the magic worked.

“Penny and I have been trying for a family,” Pete explained, “but we haven’t had any luck. I see the way she tries to seem like it doesn’t bother her, but I also see the way she looks after the kids in the village. I want to give her everything I can, Tom. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t try everything?”

“You know there’ll be a price,” Tom warned him, casting a look his way. “There’s always a price to pay for these things.”

“Whatever it is,” Pete murmured, “I’ll pay it.”

“Why?” Tom retorted. “Why would you even risk it?”

Pete smiled at him, a soft look in his ocean blue eyes. “I love her, Tom.”

“Love is for fools,” Tom scoffed.

“Love is the price we pay to feel something in this world, Tom,” Maverick said, looking at his friend knowingly. Tom snorted, shaking his head.

“Fool’s fare then,” Tom relented. Pete’s head tilted back as he laughed.

“Call it what you like,” he chortled, “but the facts remain. Now are you going to help me or not?”

Tom considered him for a moment. What Pete was asking was no small task, but perhaps…

“Tell me,” he spoke. “What do you picture your life being?”

Pete thought for a moment.

“Penny wants a child regardless, but I think I want a son that I can pass my legacy onto. A son to teach the ways of sailing and ride on the waves together,” he paused. “Yes, a son.”

Tom hummed with a nod. He could work with that. He could manipulate the magic in that one, small way.

“The price for a life is a life in return,” he warned. “To gain your son, you forfeit your life after seven years.”

Pete hummed, rubbing at his chin as he considered the price. Tom waited, wondering if his friend would forfeit his own life to make this woman happy. Pete wasn’t a particularly selfish man, but he had a zest for life that was rare in Tom’s experience. People like Pete lived for the love of life, and the thought of willingly forfeiting that should seem like an impossible decision to the young captain.

“I’ll do it.”

Tom blinked, momentarily letting his mask of impassiveness slip to show his surprise at Pete’s decision. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat as he shifted.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you’re sure about this.”

Pete nodded. “I am.”

Tom felt the magic swirl within him, building as he readied to make the deal. Slowly, he extended his hand, settling on the wording of the spell.

“To gain a child,” he said slowly, “you forfeit your life.”

Pete nodded, grasping his outstretched hand. “I get my son, Penny get’s a child, and you gain a soul.”

Tom frowned. Magic was specific, it was precise. He wasn’t sure if Pete’s added words would affect the spell, but he was sure that he had enough control to alter that one piece.

The magic settled around them, a low hum that rang in Tom’s ears as he let go of Pete’s hand. He took a long drag from his pipe, holding the burning smoke in his lungs before blowing out long and slow.

“So, tell me,” Pete grinned. “What treasures have you found since I last saw you?”

Years passed, and Tom’s plan worked. Soon after his deal with Pete, he received the news that his friend would become a father, and nine months later he received word that Pete’s daughter had been born, a healthy, happy child according to Pete. It was a couple of years later when he first met the little girl.

Tom had never seen his friend look so happy, smiling and bouncing the toddler on his hips as he cooed at her, earning small giggles that made the young captain grin even wider.

“She may not be my son,” Pete told him, holding the little girl close as she dozed off against his shoulder, tiny thumb popped into her mouth, “but she’s my little guppy.”

Tom would have gagged if it weren’t so sweet. He thought back to his long dead son, how small the boy had been in his own arms, and warmth stirred in his chest.

“I’m happy it worked out,” he replied.

“I know you finagled the magic,” Pete told him. “No son means no forfeiture of my life, right?”

“That’s the idea,” Tom admitted. “You’ll live a long, happy life with your family.”

It was two years later that Pete brought a young boy named Bradley into his home, dubbing the boy Rooster.

“He reminds me of Nick,” Pete told Tom one day. “Looks just like him. So much so, that sometimes I wonder if Bradley really is-”

“Don’t,” Tom interrupted, placing a hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t torture yourself with possibilities. Just focus on what you have now.”

Pete had smiled and nodded, content with the old captain’s words. Several more years passed, and the two children grew up as Pete grew older. Six years after Pete Mitchell had brought the boy into his home, he sealed his fate.

“Bradley’s grown strong,” he told Tom, pride evident in his voice. “He’s almost ready to take his first job. And, Guppy’s growing up so fast. She takes after her mother, I think.”

Tom snorted, but didn’t voice his opinion that Guppy took after her father rather than her mother—her stubbornness and talent for mischief qualities she inherited directly from the man who sat next to him.

“A son and a daughter,” Pete sighed. “I couldn’t be more proud to have them.”

It was like time stopped moving for a moment, magic stirred in the air like waves against rocks in the surf, crashing into Tom so hard, it knocked the air from his lungs. He started at Pete in horror, terror coursing through his veins for the first time in eons.

“What did you say?” His voice sounded small, even to his ears. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“I do,” Pete nodded, unfazed by the magic that now counted down the moments he had left to walk the earth. “And I’ll say it again. Bradley is my son, Tom. I won’t deny him that part in my life to save myself time.”

Tom continued to stare at him. Had he misjudged his friend so badly as to think that this boy would not hold such a place in his heart? Pete was different from the young man he had met over two decades before. Where he had been an inferno in his youth, scorching anyone or anything that got in his way, now he was the steady fire found in the hearth—a beacon to those around him.

“Seven years,” Tom murmured, hanging his head. “You have seven years.”

“Don’t feel bad, Tom,” Pete said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You did for me what you could, and you didn’t have to do that much. You allowed me more years with my family than our deal allowed, and for that I’m grateful. More than you can imagine.”

Tom shook his head, letting out a growl of frustration at his friend’s apparent lack of self preservation. Pete shot him a sympathetic smile.

“Guess the magic got its way in the end, huh?” Pete chuckled, though there was no humor in his tone.

Tom said nothing, and the two sat in silence long after the sun had dipped below the horizon.

Tom ran into Pete several times during those years, either on the sea during their adventures, or when he’d pop into the local tavern. During that time, Tom himself had fallen in love for the first time in ages. She was a pretty, young thing with chestnut waves that rolled down her back and eyes to match. Laughter that filled Tom’s heart with a mixture of warmth and longing, and how he wished she’d pay him more mind.

Kate was her name, and Tom was in love. He watched from afar as she chased after some local boy. Tom wished it was him that she yearned for, but he would love her from afar.

No good would come from entangling himself in her life.

He watched after her for years, content to be her silent protector. In between his moments of quiet pining for her, he’d visit Pete, cognizant of the fact that his friend’s time was quickly running out.

“Have you told them?” He asked one day, Pete looking up from the map he had been studying. Pete grimaced, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t want them to lose sleep over the inevitable. When I go, it will be a sudden, tragic accident. They’ll grieve, but they won’t torture themselves with the notion that they could have done anything to prevent it.”

Tom nodded, fidgeting with his pipe as a moment passed.

“I think I know what you meant about love now,” he admitted. Pete’s brow arched, the twinge of a smile evident on his lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” Tom groused, scowling at the younger man. “I’m only telling you because you’ll be dead soon enough, anyway.”

Pete threw his head back in laughter, Tom slowly joining in after a moment.

“Never one to beat around the bush, aye?” Pete chuckled, wiping a tear from his eyes as aftershocks of laughter rattled through him.

“Never,” Tom agreed with a grin.

That had been the last time Tom saw Pete. The magic had pulled tight at his chest, poised like a string before snapping, and Tom was left with a breathless, empty feeling. The tears came unbidden, a sob choking up out of him as he hunched his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt sorrow like this, the last time he had allowed himself to feel close to anyone. Now he remembered why he was cold, why he gave himself to the ocean beneath him.

He would not make that mistake again.

As if to hammer home the lesson, news of Kate’s death reached him only days after. She had confessed her love to that same, stupid boy she had been chasing, and the boy had denied her affections. In her despair, she had thrown herself into the sea, drowning beneath the surface of the waves.

Tom was livid. How dare that boy take such a thing as love for granted. It was no matter, Tom would be the one to teach him a lesson.

And a lesson he had certainly bestowed. The boy had begged for mercy, but there was none to be found in Tom’s empty, aching heart. He thought of his friend who had given up everything in the name of love, something the boy before him had spit on as far as Tom was concerned. And so he had cursed the boy with the very curse that had been bestowed upon him lifetimes ago.

If more is what the boy wanted, it was more he would seek.

Tom had turned his back on the boy, the cries for mercy blending in with the wind as he disappeared into the shadows of night.

He saw the boy six years later during a visit to see you and Bradley, the blond having the swagger of any young captain, and his demeanor almost reminded him of another captain from so long ago.

Almost.

Tom hated him. Hated the very sight of him, and he was sure it was written all over his face as he scowled at him. Of course, the boy had no idea that he was talking to the very man that had cursed him so many years before. Tom made it a point to not let his civilian form slip to reveal the cursed soul that lay beneath. The night he had cursed the young man, he had let his control slip, revealing the skeleton of the man he truly was.

He knew better than to raise his voice in opposition to the idea that Bradley join this man’s crew. Much like the man who raised him, Bradley was more inclined to do the thing you told him not to do—a trait that Tom had found most annoying in Pete. However, he watched you trail after your brother, desperation clouding your judgement, and Tom shook his head in pity. He could try to speak up, but that would risk his exposure. Besides, there was no guarantee Bradley would listen to him, let alone believe him. He watched helplessly as Bradley signed his life away, signed away his future.

Tom could not meddle in the affairs of common folk, not without a price anyway. Stopping Bradley would have meant paying a terrible price, one that Tom would have no control over. Cursing under his breath, he watched as you stormed out of the tavern, tears streaming down your face. A wave of sadness washed over him, and he hung his head lower, squeezing his eyes shut against the realization that you truly would lose everyone you held dear in your life. All because of him. He had played a part in creating your family, and now he was the reason you would lose everyone completely. You’d be alone, just like him.

“I’m so sorry, Guppy.”

A/N: I'm so excited to share this one with you guys. This chapter has been swirling around in my head basically since the inception of the fic. I loved getting to explore the backstory of Tom and his origins as well as his friendship with Maverick. Did you pick up on the mythology? Can you guess Tom's true name? Only one more chapter to go and then we have our epilogue!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[pucksandpower]

IN MY BLOOD

Y/N SENNA x CHARLES LECLERC

Series Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

PART II: Lights Out

Martin Brundle: “A sensational debut for Y/N Senna here in Australia! She’s done it! P3 in her very first Formula 1 race. What a remarkable achievement.”

David Croft: “Absolutely astonishing! Y/N Senna has exceeded all expectations today. The entire paddock is buzzing with excitement. This is a fairytale start to her Formula 1 career.”

Martin Brundle: “Y/N has clearly inherited the racing genes from her father. The Senna name is back on the podium and what a brilliant way to honor her family’s legacy! But Y/N has shown that she’s not just here to ride on her family’s history. She is here to make a name for herself and with a result like this, she’s definitely on the right track.”

David Croft: “You can see the emotion on her face as she steps out of her car. It’s a moment she will remember for the rest of her life. Bugatti must be over the moon with this performance.”

Martin Brundle: “Absolutely. Y/N has demonstrated immense skill and composure out there on the track. To handle the pressure of a debut race and deliver such a strong result is truly remarkable.”

David Croft: “And let’s not forget the competition she was up against. We have seasoned drivers with years of experience and yet Y/N has shown them all what she’s made of.”

Martin Brundle: “From the moment the lights went out, she showcased her raw talent, overtaking several drivers and displaying remarkable racecraft. This is a debut to remember. Y/N Senna has left a lasting impression on the Formula 1 world today.”

David Croft: “The fans here in Melbourne are witnessing history being made as they watch the first woman to stand on the Formula 1 podium! A groundbreaking achievement for women in motorsport. Y/N has announced herself as a force to be reckoned with. The future of Formula 1 is looking brighter with talents like her joining the grid.”

Martin Brundle: “Her performance today sends a powerful message to aspiring female drivers around the world. This is just the beginning of what promises to be an exciting career for Y/N. If this is how she starts, I can’t wait to see what she’ll achieve in the seasons to come.”

David Croft: “It’s been an incredible race and Y/N Senna has stolen the spotlight with that stunning podium finish. The Australian Grand Prix will forever hold a special place in her heart.”

Martin Brundle: “Indeed. It’s moments like these that remind us why we love this sport so much. Y/N Senna has already captured our hearts and imagination. What a way to start the 2013 Formula 1 season!”

y/nsenna

Liked by bugattiracing, michaelschumacher, and 1,583,964 others

y/nsenna Words cannot express the overwhelming emotions I felt today as I made my Formula 1 debut at the Australian Grand Prix. This race is very meaningful for me as it was here that my father tasted victory for the last time. I could not help but feel his spirit guiding me, pushing me forward, and reminding me of the intrepid legacy he left behind.

To all the incredible fans who showed up to support me and to remember my father, I am truly humbled and grateful. Your unwavering love and dedication have touched my soul in ways I cannot fully express. The sea of Brazilian colors and Bugatti blue, the banners, the cheers — it was a beautiful reminder that my father’s memory continues to inspire countless hearts even after all these years.

But today, my goal was more than just reliving my father’s accomplishments. It was about carving my own path, about stepping out of his immense shadow and shining as Y/N Senna in my own right, not just Ayrton Senna’s daughter. It is a delicate balance between honoring the extraordinary legacy he left behind and forging my own story in this exhilarating world of motorsport.

Standing on the podium in my first race was a humbling reflection of countless years of dedication, sacrifices, and faith in myself and my abilities. It represents a significant milestone, a stepping stone towards the future. My aspiration is to have my name celebrated not solely for its connection to my father but for the victories and achievements I earn through my own relentless pursuit of excellence. It is a journey that will require continuous growth, learning, and embracing the challenges that lie ahead.

To my beloved papai, I carry your spirit within me every time I take to the track. Your courage, your passion, and your determination flow through my veins, fueling my every move. You will forever be the inspiration that guides me in this new and remarkable journey. You may not been here physically but I have no doubt that you were my biggest cheerleader today.

A special thank you goes out to my incredible team at Bugatti Racing. Their tireless support, expertise, and persistence have been instrumental in making this dream a reality. From the mechanics who diligently worked on my car, ensuring it was in perfect condition, to the engineers who fine-tuned every aspect of its performance, and to the entire crew who stood by my side, believing in me every step of the way, I am forever grateful. You have all played a vital role in our success today and I couldn’t have asked for a better team.

I would be remiss if I didn’t express my deepest gratitude to my friends and family who have stood by my side through thick and thin. Your strength and presence have been a guiding light. Thank you for instilling in me the courage to chase my dreams fearlessly. Thank you for the countless hours of training, the late-night pep talks, and the relentless belief in my potential. Each one of you has played an integral role in shaping the person I am today and I am eternally grateful for your love and support.

And to the incredible fans who lined the streets and stands and flooded social media with your heartfelt messages, I want to extend a special thank you. Your presence, whether physically or virtually, gave me a priceless boost of energy and added motivation. Your belief in me reminded me of the overflowing love that surrounds me. Each cheer, each encouraging word, and each message of support served as a beacon of strength. Thank you for being there, for believing in me, and for being an important part of this chapter in my life.

With love always,

Y/N 💙

View all 4,172 comments

michaelschumacher Nothing I can write will do justice for just how proud I felt standing in your garage today. There were moments were I could have sworn I was watching your father back on the track once more and others were I saw what Alain and I taught you on full display. But most importantly, everyone watching today largely saw a driving style that is yours and yours alone. This will be your legacy. You take the best parts of us and adapt to make them your own which is the hallmark of any great driver. I am infinitely grateful to call myself your uncle. We love you!

y/nsenna Thank you, Uncle Michael! Having you by my side today made it even more special. I am so lucky to have you and your family in my life. I promise to always strive to be the best version of myself, just like you taught me. I love you all so much

a.prost Incredible drive, Y/N! Ayrton and I shared our last podium together at this same race twenty years ago and watching you out there brought tears to my eyes. Your father would be bursting with pride and I am honored to have been here for this amazing accomplishment and the first of many to come. Never stop shining and remember to always stay true to yourself

y/nsenna Thank you, Uncle Alain! That means the world to me. Knowing that you and my papai shared that special moment makes it especially emotional and I am so happy that you flew down to see it happen

pele Congratulations, Y/N! Your talent and dedication shine through, and your father’s legacy undoubtedly lives on with your incredible performance. Formula 1 is lucky to have you and our beloved Brazil is very fortunate to have you representing us. You are writing a beautiful story

y/nsenna Muito obrigado! It is an honor to have your support and encouragement. I hope to continue making our people proud

Taglist: @xeliaaaa @cl16version @aileeincomplexity @uh-oh-spaghetti-oh-my-gosh @ninifee1802 @oprantodomar @vanishingcherry @ferraribabe @magicalcowboyarbiter @materialgirl01 @miureiz @kavyaas-world @noodle81937 @cl16gf @laura-naruto-fan1998 @stillbreathin @alexisquinnlee-bc @chiliwhore @itachissneakylink @lxverboy-333 @nim360 @celestialams @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @sharllec @sticksdoesart @ivegotparticulartaste @kruellaaa @multifandomfanfic @love4lando @lunehlana @judeswifey22 @gentlemonsterjennie1 @spencerrxids @eugene-emt-roe @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @g4ns3y @notleclerc @magical-imagination-kgp @ru-kru @christianpulisic10 @paigem00 @paletragedydreamer @fluffyspaceprincess @ironmaiden1313 @dr3lover @deviltsunoda @belennasif @honethatty12 @idkiwantchocolatee @omgsuperstarg @jwilder0406 @ruleroftheuniverse @chonkybonky @angelulls @daniellarogers @ocyeanicc @serenityleah @dazecrea

[sohyxn]

study session, nakamura kazuha x fem reader.

genre : short fluff

sypnosys : just another study session with your friend aka — long time crush but this time it ends with a kiss?

a/n : was listening to bags by clairo while writing this also my apologies if it's too short 😓🙏

nakamura kazuha and you, two young women attending the same university, had been close friends for a while. late nights spent studying together had brought you closer, and a subtle spark of attraction had begun to flicker between you.

one evening, as the two of you sat side by side in the library, buried in textbooks and notes, a playful smile tugged at the corners of kazuha's lips. she leaned in closer, her warm breath tickling your ear.

"hey, can i borrow your highlighter?" she whispered, her voice soft and low.

you looked up from your work, meeting her mischievous gaze. "sure," you replied, reaching into your bag to retrieve the highlighter. as you handed it to her, your fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. her eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer than necessary, a silent invitation. and in that moment, you both knew.

unable to resist any longer, you closed the gap between you, capturing her lips in a stolen kiss. It was soft and sweet, a delicate dance of warmth and tenderness. the world around you faded into insignificance as you lost yourselves in the embrace.

when you finally pulled away, a blush adorned both your faces, but your smiles were undeniable. "i've been wanting to do that for a while," kazuha admitted, her voice filled with affection.

a giggle escaped your lips as you leaned your forehead against hers. "me too," you confessed, your heart fluttering with joy. "i'm glad we finally crossed that line."

kazuha intertwined her fingers with yours, her touch gentle yet full of certainty. "me too," she whispered, her voice filled with adoration. "i like you y/n, a lot."

you felt a rush of warmth spreading through your chest, your love for kazuha growing with every passing moment. "i like you too zuha, a lot, more than you know." you responded, your voice filled with sincerity.

and there, in the quiet corner of the library, surrounded by books and knowledge, with stolen kisses and whispered promises, your connection deepened, creating a bond that would withstand the tests of time. together, you would navigate the world hand in hand, forever grateful for the stolen kisses that had sparked a love so pure and beautiful.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Ikemen Prince 4th Anniversary

Leon & Rio: The Hidden Agenda

One day, at a tavern—

Rio: "—I see, so subtlety is key no matter the situation."

Rio: "Honestly, I get so overwhelmed by my feelings for Emma that I tend to go overboard with everything."

Rio: "Use a gradual approach, giving her subtle thrills bit by bit... I'll try that next time!"

Leon: "Yeah, I’m rooting for you."

Leon: "Though, why did you come to me?"

Rio: "What do you mean?"

Leon: "You asked me for tips on ways to get Emma to notice you and invited me for a drink."

Leon: "But wouldn't Jin or Nokto, who are good with women, be more suitable for this stuff?"

Rio: "You’re right, those two are pros at knowing thousands of ways to win over women."

Rio: "I actually went to them before. But the methods they suggested were very intense and nosebleed-inducing,"

Rio: "that it quickly escalated from catching Emma’s attention to leading us straight into the bedroom, so I backed out quickly!"

Rio: "That's why I'm seeking the help from the walking guidebook of romance techniques, Prince Leon..."

Leon: "I'm very curious to know who came up with that title for me,"

Leon: "But for your sake, I'll stick around for as long as you need."

Rio: "Ah... I see. So, the strategy is to subtly convey to the other person that they’re special through casual conversation."

Rio: "It feels like my heart was suddenly ambushed from out of nowhere."

Leon: "I don't really get it, but if that helped you in any way, then I'm glad."

Leon: "So, we'll keep discussing ways to approach Emma—"

Leon: "And get to the real topic afterwards, right?"

Rio: "....."

Rio: "Ah... you figured it out?"

Leon: "I had a hunch."

Rio: "As expected of you, Prince Leon."

Rio: ".....Emma is so cute that just by existing, she captures the hearts of everyone."

Rio: "So, when I happened to see you and Emma chatting happily today, I got curious,"

Rio: "And I invited you for a drink to make sure you hadn’t stolen her heart!"

Leon: "Was it the same reason for Jin and Nokto too?"

Rio: "Yes!"

Leon: "And, I suppose you've checked with others too?"

Rio: "Please keep this a secret from Emma. She would be surprised."

Rio: "But don't worry, I'm not threatening anyone!"

Rio: "Not yet, at least."

Leon: "You’re more of a worrywart than I thought."

Rio: "Partly, but I also think it's better to identify any threats early on."

Rio: "For me, Emma is my entire world."

Master List

▼・ᴥ・▼

[emmaofnormandy]

~A Medieval Tale: The Rogue & His Lady. Part II~

Plot: Y/N is a damsel who captures the heart of a rogue, misunderstood prince named Aegon Targaryen in 14th century England… with no civil war to disarray the family.

It’s fluffy, very mediæval like; smut; long post.

(+21)

***

Even sun sets in paradise.

Clouds rumble in the skies, a sign of storm, a bad omen to all those who fear the ire of the divine. Many were the peaceful years of King Viserys’s reign. Some would incline to judge this monarch as fool, others, wise, good even.

Whatever epithet this king deserves, it goes to wind, blown away by the first evidences that peace is yet to be supplanted by something worse. What might that be… is yet to be found out.

With the sun eclipsed, new events are setting stage. Aegon and you are forced to be apart by these circumstances and you fear to remain a shadow in his memory, praying to the divine that he does not forsake you .

On his part, this redeemed prince has renewed his vows to you. But he’d come to find that easier is said than done for his attentions are required elsewhere. Demons are coming out to reclaim his soul and he’s the target of evil again.

Indeed, to be surrounded by such creatures requires an inner strength that a fragile faith cannot knock down. Here, Aegon finds difficult to shake ‘em off.

Oh why Lord hast thou forsaken me?

Masking his pain, his porcelain skin turns to ivory. Sweet Prince is now a king… who faces the opposition of partisans who threaten to replace him with Rhaenyra.

Where there is smoke, there is flame. And someone might get burnt.

You, despite yourself, feel inclined to let be consumed by these unnatural flames.

Already pained by how politics are preventing one to find the other, you swallow your pride and discreetly search for him.

Aegon is found in secretive talks to Lord Daeron, his brother and councilor, who thinks best to marry off his sister in order to prevent political troubles that could arise in her state— and none seems to suspect, though, that the Lady Rhaenyra is holding the reigns of her life by taking her own uncle, Lord Daemon Targaryen, as her husband.

How bold, the scandalized court would whisper.

Part of shadows, you are invisible to the eyes of men—and to those of the women, too. For who are you if not part of a nobility that few are familiar with? Your family possessions may give them some credit, but no name, no blood, nothing… could commend you to His Grace.

The tentacles of the Devil hereby try to persuade you of your insignificance, thus trying to work against the designs of the Cupid by pushing you away from him, the one your heart desires.

To the most pious, though, this is read as an announcement of a heavenly battle for two lost souls. Which one is going to be the victor?

One could only pray to fight away such impertinent demons…

But a soul when linked to the other is prompted to recognize its other significant half… regardless the crowd that tries to part them.

Which means to say that His Grace’s lilac eyes find the y/c eyes of yours. So lost. Plagued by this intermittent chaos.

In silence, screaming for the lover stolen.

“Lady Y/N!”

The stunned group of councillors, and here his relatives are included, follow the cause of the king’s disrupted distress.

To many, the evident surprise in their faces when seeing it is you the very reason why Aegon II is more concerned to a damsel than politics may lead to that old superstition, understood as a sort of common sense, which places the blame of wrongs in women… simply because they are not obeying the natural orders.

Regardless, spotlight is on. The Cupid dances, the Devil threatens. Fate is about to play deadly its cards.

“I could not reach out for you. I pray you forgive me for being…”

Even if staying at the center of this stage is something you do not wish for, it is too late to storm out. Your destiny escapes your hands, it’s been woven by the divine. This is all you know.

“Do not apologize, lord. There is nothing to be forgiven for”, you smile, but Aegon sees sadness in your irises. “What can we do before duty? Should be me the one to ask you forgiveness for my meekness, my spirit so prompted to be passional…”

“I see nothing in you to be faulted for. Reason cannot conceive it. Lady Y/N, I aim to reclaim not your body, even if it arises the desires of my flesh, but your soul, so only I before it can be whole.” He cups your face with his hands, in complete ignorance of his mother’s baffled countenance. “Even so, unworthy of thee as I am, take me not as king, but as a man.”

“Poet of mine heart”, you sigh, to the delight of the Goddess of Love who claps before this chaotic profession of most profound sentiments. “I could not refuse you, whether as a beggar, whether as a king. Likewise, my heart is yours to be commanded… despite my most inappropriate station.”

Aegon smiles and it is as if sun shines the brightest. To a general astonishment, the king loves. And such a love is above mortal, fable laws; above lust, inferior desires that have made no other victims than himself.

“I care naught about the laws of men, for I stand before them. My wife you will be, lady of this court, mistress of the realm”, says he in a tone that leaves no argument to it.

Devil is finally fought off. Victory is placed in the hands of Cupid. Heaven smiles below… even if skies remain grey still.

***

Nothing evokes a greater scandal than unexpected unions. Disregarding reason and every sensible advise, the king intends to make his word law of the realm.

All of this is suffice to say that making you his queen attracted great disapproval of the court. Something unseen since the days of Maegor the cruel.

But Aegon may be many things. Cruel he is not. And you are unlike any of his consorts.

Despite the gleefulness of finally being tied to Aegon, you know that working for peace is part of your queenship.

Therefore, days before the wedding you come after the dowager queen, lady Alicent Hightower. You hope to be as convincing as possible in arranging domestic peace, for you do this overall for the man you love—never forgetting, however, how uncommon this union is, out of the Targaryen inbred and hierarchically mismatched.

The redhaired lady, once praised for her piety and discreetion, who once possessed a crown over her head, welcomed you with distrust in her eyes—even if you see how queenly she is in manners. That is to reinforce the regal obligations one has… out of habit, perhaps, when dealing with others she is less… inclined to like.

“Madame the Queen”, you address her accordingly. “I thank you for welcoming your humble servant.”

Your speech definitely surprises the dowager queen. The lady Alicent has judged you as some sort of gold digger, who craved your nails in her son and whose manners were most undignified of Aegon—even if he is not, as she knows well, the great moral of her house.

However, when studying you, your modesty and meek speech, she realizes she’s been wrong. Not many could surprise Alicent Hightower, but you, Y/N Y/LN did.

“Please rise, child”, she softens towards you. “I am not a queen… not anymore.”

“One never ceases to be a queen, even if the crown is legated to another. You are the force behind this house, my lady. I would do harm to all of us if I only followed my heart.”

Wise move. Oh, this lady possesses a sharp wit. Certainly not like any of the mistresses Aegon had conquered to warm his bed.

And yet… hasn’t Lady Alicent been remembered of that heroine whom she admired, Isolde being the character’s name?

Though the dowager queen envied you for being who she aimed to be since the days of her girlhood, she is not unreasonable where you are concerned.

“I appreciate you come after me for that. I admit all of this caught me out of surprise, for little I expected seeing my son so besotted.”

You try smiling, charmingly if you dare.

“Indeed it has baffled me as well that the king considered me in high esteem. Unworthy as I am, I, however, feel likewise.”

“But you surely must be aware of his flaws”, the dowager queen could not help herself. You remind her of sweet Helaena, who, however, even in her sweetness had a driven force that led her elope with Aemond, her brother.

“I am, my queen. I do not love for the king he is, but for the man he is becoming. I too have my flaws.” The final card is yet to come… “Before the divine, we are inferior beings, all longing for redemption.”

The Queen smiles. You’ve succeeded in captivating her.

“This is very true. Sometimes… when we least expect, we come to learn that love sent from above is yet to redeem us all.”

From this day on, you and the dowager queen become close, perhaps occupying the vacant position left by the princess Helaena.

***

It is the ceremony day. Here you and Aegon are, lawfully married. A banquet is held on your honor, as well as tournaments are drawing high and low born men alike who spots in the jousts an opportunity to write their names in history.

Most want to be the lady Y/N’s champion, but you’ve already granted your favour to Lord Daeron, the king’s youngest brother, who used to be your childhood playmate.

As wine is poured in your silver glass, you and your lord husband speak as if there is just the two of you in a gold and green salon.

“I espoused you”, says he with his typical smug.

“Indeed”, you side smirk. “But I pray you are reminded daily that I was not any conquest of yours.”

“No”, he agrees, looking deep into your eyes as he takes your hand to his lips in a lingering kiss. “You are the redemption of a lost sinner, my lady.”

But this sweet, intimate moment is interrupted by Aemond’s boast.

“It appears”, he announces in his own way, “this is the moment we have all been waiting for. The bedding ceremony.”

You look away, crimson pink painting your cheeks all the whilst Aegon raises his eyebrows at his brother—though he’d indulge in lies if he didn’t admit he’d been looking to it. Perhaps too much for a man who until recently was slaved by his flesh.

*

A path of flowers follows your steps as the gentlewomen remove every piece of your green gown. Your carefully embroidered hair is now loose in your back and every jewel that embellished your skin is carefully removed.

Never before you felt so nude, so exposed. Specially under the cries and giggles of the ladies, some of which behave in what you judge to be somewhat in the old ways.

“Be merry, my dear. Today is the day your queenly duties begin”, someone tells you.

You smirk at them, but pay little attention to their sayings, detesting this exhibition. Until your mind suddenly goes blank before the view of perfection that stands right under your eyes.

Aegon Targaryen hasn’t seen you yet. Perhaps to drink away his nervousness, he downs his glass of wine. His hair is somewhat a mess, falling short down to his neck; but your eyes scan his muscles, perfectly shaped after years of sword training.

The lines of his body that reinforce his shape awake something different in you. And when he turns at you….

Your face goes instantly red.

“My queen”, and it doesn’t help you that he scans you with the eyes of a predator.

And you like it how he smirks and moves all the way to welcome you properly.

“You look beautiful like always”, his whisper is like a summer breeze, warming and cozy; his arms are like a fortress, strong and safe. “Do not shy away from me, my dear.”

He is right behind you, his arms snaking around your waist, thus involving you in between. His chin is resting over your shoulder, his lilac eyes staring at your heart-shaped face as he uses one hand to play with your hair all the whilst the other is resting over your belly.

“You are gifted with a beautiful out of this world. As a sinner, I should not dare to look at you, but because of my weakness, I have my feebleness exposed.”

“Oh Aegon, you are no man, nor king, nor something in between. You are above all, and as your subject I boldly commend myself to you.”

Speeches are silent from the moment his lips meet your skin and your mouth drops in an “o” right as you give in under his touch. His slender fingers caressing your belly, squeezing gently your waist before cupping your breasts make you experiment—truthfully this time—this dragon fire.

And you want to get burnt so desperately.

“Aegon…”, you moan softly, dropping your head at shoulders.

Sinful has never been so tempting. Where there is a flame someone is about to get burnt, and you place yourself willingly in this position, notwithstanding the morals of the Church against lust and the dangerous of having pleasure in marital bed—everything must be balanced.

You certainly do not feel condemned by any means when he’s kissing your neck and cupping your breasts; nor guilty when his tongue paces slowly towards your neck.

Aegon too revives his old self, though he is now controlling his lust, not the other way around. As when he lowers his right hand and through forest he finds waterfall in you, diving in you and together finding pleasure in sin.

“Oh yes”, he groans in your ear, pleased to please you. “Give yourself to me, my dear”.

When your gazes meet, you know it’s your end. You are doomed.

And Aegon, has truthfully been tamed.

***

As when sun and moon meet, so it occurs a significant event the moment your body meets his. When he holds your thighs and pushes within you, when he looks at you with a mix of love and lust… you know it’s nothing regular.

It’s supernatural.

Divine.

Like when Mars met Venus and in her he planted his seeds, so the king plants his in you.

When does profanity begin? When does sacred end? A line so fragile between extremes is yet to be traced.

But one gaze, one kiss… one bliss is enough to bring altogether what has ever been apart.

Victory thus falls upon the hands of the Cupid, and Heavens will too bless this unique match. No one could have foretold the plans of the divine… as no one could have fought them either.

***

• Epilogue.

The king sits on his throne, eyes glued on his dancing queen. A smile dances over his lips, some might say Lady Y/N is a witch.

A love for a crown?

A crown for love?

When all eyes are set on their offspring, doubts are quietened. A pair of twins is seen dancing with their mother, whilst another, the elder and heir, is found by his father’s side.

All is well that ends up well… with you.

Aegon smiles. Against all wishes, the peace he provides. And he rises, uncontestedly victorious.

Their family is yet to grow further, with Lady Y/N, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, mothering at least ten more children. Their lives will last… until spring comes and summer passes.

During the autumn of life, when marriages thrive, you outlive your husband only to see Jaehaerys II with Jaehaera by his side.

Thus it is how this Targaryen line survives…

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢’𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫. ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐰. 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more, everything I ever searched the stars for…” he whispers in your ear through a pleased sigh, “I love you.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: honkai star rail | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: welt yang/reader, past nanook/reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 3.12k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, creampies, previously established relationship, reader and welt have been together five years pre-caelus and have known each other at least fifteen, oral sex ( fem receiving ), riding, choking ( male receiving ), marriage proposals, reader catching feelings.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 !! — @sangokokomis.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober 2 <3 also sorry but i suffer from can’t-do-pwp-bc-i-love-plot disease

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Out of thousands upon thousands of years, so few men and women had met the Aeons in comparison to those that did not. Even fewer were selected by the deities to live closely with them — and many, many years ago, you yourself been chosen for such an opportunity. 

As a priestess of destruction, you’d had many long days to accustom yourself to the personality of your deity, far used to the occasional outbursts and fits of rage that could turn to silent ponderings within moments. You’d seen hundreds come and go, less than a dozen stay, and had long acquainted yourself with his many lesser followers. That being said, it had also been several long years that you’d been sent away from your official post by him, destined to infiltrate those which sought to destroy his plans, and those several years had been filled with nothing but annoyance. You missed your home, missed your Aeon, and you missed your former work. Life as Nanook’s high priestess was a good one, and life in his bed even better — but now you were on the Astral Express, feigning a life as a crewmember that a lesser associate of yours had long killed all while wearing her face thanks to the magics of Phantylia. One of the Express’s leaders had been attracted to the silly girl, and because of that he’d now fallen victim to your own charms and wiles, which was why he was serving you even now. 

Your head falls onto the back of the couch behind you, your glass of wine held in one slightly shaky hand as Welt Yang buried his face between your spread legs to taste the slit between them. Your eyes remain closed and your breathing deep and easy as you bask in the attention he was lavishing you in, and with a soft sigh you lift your glass to your lips and take a sip. 

When you’d arrived here, the girl whose face you’d stolen was still in the early innocent stages of a romance with the man, and you’d more than taken up the mantle she’d desired and had captured his heart and his cock with nothing more than a few wicked games veiled with false sincerities, so overall the fact that they’d not fucked yet was benefactory to your cause; Aeons knew what would have become of you if Yang had felt suspicious over his ‘lover’ because you clenched your cunt differently while he was inside it than the woman he was actually in love with — that being said, playing the part of a virgin when you’d not been one for centuries had been hell. 

Still, you’d played your part beautifully. 

The ways in which Welt Yang touched you were far different to the touches of Lord Nanook; where your Aeon could be vicious and cruel, a man at his core who sought blood and bruises, Yang was gentle and soft, preferring a romantic setting over one of chaos. You hated it at first, feeling lazy at how simple it all was, but eventually after a few years you came to enjoy it; the next many years spent hiding in plain sight as your Aeon commanded would only consist of suffering if you yourself felt that Yang’s lovemaking was such, so why not enjoy it while you could? Kafka had also advised that you find a bright spot in wherever you were located; she’d been in a handful of  ‘missions’ similar to these — and despite how well you knew her to be able to lie, you trusted her. So far she’d given you no reason to think otherwise. 

“Eager tonight, Mr. Yang?” you ask softly through a smile, finally breaking the silence that had only been punctuated by the wet noises of his talented mouth on your cunt while spreading your legs further apart ever so slightly. You feel him grin against you before tossing one of your legs over his shoulder, managing to worm his way closer to you as you knew he liked. 

“I’m always eager for a taste of what only you can give me,” he replies, murmuring the dead woman’s name like she was his god. You ignore it, humming softly and trying to calm your racing heart as his tongue rolled expertly over the thousands of nerves between your legs. The urge to buck up into his face was growing stronger than ever, and your grip on your glass tightens almost enough for it to shatter. 

Welt moans against your cunt, drunk off of the taste of you, and you let out a soft noise that has him doing exactly what he’d done to coax it out of you the first time. One of your hands rushes down to bury itself in his hair, fisting around a handful, and he moans into you again as you submit to your own urges and start rolling your hips up into his face. Your wine sloshes in your glass as you squeeze your eyes shut so tightly that tears start to spring up, and you whisper out curses and pleads as a spot in your belly starts growing tighter and tighter, and he changes nothing — an experienced lover, Welt knew just what he was meant to do. 

With a sharp wail, the leg over his shoulder curls around his head and holds his mouth to your cunt, your body spasming as you squeeze him. His eyelashes flutter slightly as he relishes the feeling of your thighs pressing in tightly around him all while continuing to taste you, and one of his hands comes up to rub small circles on your skin as you cum for him. 

After a moment, the feeling slowly fades and the afterglow kicks in. Standing up, Welt takes your wine glass from you carefully, helping you finish drinking what wine you had left as he also assists in removing your robe and baring yourself to him. As the last dregs roll into your mouth, he captures your lips in a kiss, and you can taste yourself on his lips before your juices blend with the wine. A few stray droplets escape your mouths and begin running down your chin and throat before rolling across your bare breasts, and Welt is quick to swallow what’s in his mouth to chase them with it, his tongue flicking out to capture each droplet before finally closing on one nipple. You whimper softly, weak cries falling from your kiss-swollen lips as his tongue curls around the sensitive bud. 

“Bed,” you whisper quietly, and he grunts against you in agreement. The two of you make your way over to the bed you shared, Welt kicking off his shoes hastily as you abandon your robe on the couch completely. 

He nudges you gently and you fall back onto the thick blankets, pretending to be offended as you prop yourself up on your elbows, and he laughs as he unbuckles his belt and lets his pants fall to puddle on the floor. Your gaze falls upon his cock, hard and weeping, and your lip darts out to wet your lips before you spread your legs invitingly. His brown eyes darken a few shades and he tugs his shirt up and over his head before taking his rightful place between your thighs, his thick length slapping against your cunt as you’d both desired as he begins kissing you again. 

A soft pressure makes itself known as he slips a hand between the two of you and begins pressing his cock inside of you; you just close your eyes and relax into the mattress as the ever so familiar feeling of him filling you washes over your body. The two of you wait a moment, basking in the feeling and allowing your body to adjust before wrecking each other as always. 

“I love you,” he whispers through a smile, and you laugh a little to yourself. 

“I know,” you reply, and it’s enough for him as he begins to gently move, rolling his hips against you in a soft rhythm he knows you enjoy. Soft sighs and moans fall from your lips as he drives himself deep inside over and over again, an ever familiar fire building in your belly as he slams against your sweet spot over and over; the bastard had memorized its placement a long time ago, much to your shock. 

“Yes, yes — fuck, please!” he moans above you, his eyes squeezed shut from the feeling of being inside. You lock your legs around his waist instinctively as he slowly picks up the pace, letting out sharp cries of pleasure. You don’t notice him open his eyes, nor do you notice him gazing down at you in adoration as he brings you closer and closer to the edge or the excited glint in his eyes as he grips your waist and rolls the two of you over so you sit on top of him — but you don’t have to have noticed any of these things to know what he’s wanting as he bucks his hips up into you. 

Lofting yourself up, you keep pulling up until the tip of his cock pops out and only brushes against your hole before dropping back down all at once, gasping as you’re filled and then shivering at the loud, shouted moan Welt lets loose; Aeons, you hoped no one heard. Last time he’d cried out like that while the two of you were fucking, Himeko had burst in in a panic with her weapon in hand, thinking he was under attack, only to find you with your wrists and ankles tied to the top bedposts so you’d be completely spread openand Welt balls deep inside you. 

Breakfast the next morning had been interesting. March and Dan Heng hadn’t understood why things were so awkward, but thankfully hadn’t commented on it. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” you whimper, lifting your hips and slamming them down on him over and over again. You can feel the tight grip Welt has on you, one hand on your waist and the other squeezing your hip, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down a little as the tightness in your  belly grows. “Fuck, ‘m close — W-Welt!”

“Y-Yeah, I know — c’mon, sweetheart, just a little more!” he moans, his eyes rolling back a little as he fucks up into your dripping hole. His nails dig into your skin as you slow the manic bouncing to a deep grind that smashes his fat tip against your cervix, causing you both to let out equally deep cries of pleasure. He curses again, and you grab his shoulder with one hand while wrapping the other around his throat, choking him. His hips stutter up into you instinctively and he lets out a strained groan, but other than that he has no reaction to it. 

“You shouldn’t trust me so blindly, Mr. Yang,” you purr softly, gently tightening the grip you have around his neck. He lets out a gasped moan and tightens his grip on your hips, a blissed out grin on his face and a flush on his cheeks, and laughs a little even while his air is restricted.

“And why not? You’d never hurt me, Mrs. Yang,” he gasps, and your eyes widen as your grip loosens in shock. Breathing heavily, he looks down at you hopefully through sex-mussed hair with a bright smile.

You ask shakily, “D-Do you mean-?!” and he nods. 

“Yes. It’s been five years of bliss with you at my side, so marry me,” he begs softly, his eyes warm and genuine. “Marry me, take my name, let everyone know that I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“Everyone — Everyone already knows you’re mine, Welt,” you whisper truthfully, heart racing. You’ve both stopped the carnal movements you’d shared before, still connected in the most intimate ways, but still as your mind raced as fast as your heart. A proposal? Was he absolutely insane? 

Were you?

Marrying him would be an unbreakable cover. You’d never be questioned, no one’s thoughts of your loyalty to the Express would ever falter. Should there ever be a suspicion of a traitor in the midst of the crew, you’d never be considered — the wife of Welt Yang, a traitor? Impossible!

So… why were you hesitating? Your Aeon wouldn’t give a damn and demand you take this opportunity, Phantylia would mock you for your hesitance, Blade would call you a fool for not jumping for it, and Kafka —

Well. Maybe of all your secret allies, Kafka would actually understand. Despite the exterior mask she shrouded herself in, the woman felt strongly. It was not a ‘maybe’ — she would understand. 

You may have been a priestess of the Destruction, but you were still a priestess. Marriage was a vow more sacred than any other save a life debt, even to followers of Nanook. You’d blessed more marriages in your many long years than you could possibly remember, as well as the children that followed — whether these marriages be of love, stratagem, convenience, arrangement, or any other means. The bond between spouses was something you dared not tamper with. 

But would he suspect you if you said no?

You’d managed to ease more of your own personality into that of the girl you’d hidden as over the last many years you’d been on the Astral Express and during the three in which you’d been in a relationship with Yang. You’d ushered her ended life into a new era as a woman, helped her personality grow beyond the grave, and you couldn’t thank your past self enough for the insight to do so. If Yang had proposed when you’d first arrived amongst the Astral Express Crew, the girl would have cried and said yes immediately, full of excitement that overflowed into every action she made, a reaction very unlike the one you were having right now. Now you’d made certain the come across more subdued and less explosive, and better yet you’d had a trailblazing expedition that Himeko and Welt both considered traumatizing ( a few people died, who the hell cares? ) to the girl who used to be. 

You’d jumped on that opportunity as quickly as a viper strikes its prey with a killing bite. Why were you not greedily snatching this one up as well? What was happening to you to make you falter in such a way?

“You — You don’t have to say anything now, I know the proposal is sudden,” Welt mumbles softly, averting his eyes. 

You’d been quiet too long. 

“Don’t bother,” you reply, watching him wince. Smiling, you say, “Yes. I’ll marry you,” and watch him light up. 

“You will?” he asks, smiling serenely, and you nod through a soft smile of your own. 

“I will. I’ll marry you, I’ll take your name — and should we consider it, I’ll bear you a son,” you promise quietly, as is the oath of marriages amongst the Destruction ( though changed ever so slightly; you’d learned over the years that Welt Yang was no man desiring strictly obedient partners — a child would have to be a decision you both made in his mind ).

For some reason, the thought of using any child you share with him doesn’t present itself in your mind as another means of cover or of digging your claws deeper into the Express. 

Welt just laughs. “Son, daughter, both or none — I don’t need any children, only you.” Your eyes start to water a little at that, surprising you; when you’d attempted to make such a promise to the Aeon you served, his reaction had been vastly different. 

You were glad the room was dark enough for him not to notice — hopefully. If he does, he doesn’t say anything, and you appreciate it. 

He sits up and presses his lips against yours in a slow kiss, blatantly conveying his love for you in every movement. More tears well up. You ignore them. 

“Welt,” you whisper against his mouth, and he pulls back a hair’s width. “Make love to me.”

His eyes, soft and gooey in the meagre light like melted chocolate, gaze up at you with an unhidden adoration that makes some part of you inside ache. What was this feeling? You’d been feeling it more and more lately, and you didn’t know why. 

Hmm. Perhaps matters of the philosopher.

The two of you resume your previously abandoned movements, this time slower and more rhythmic, imbued with the romance that Welt so openly craved. He moans soft utterances of your name and declarations of love that make your heart suddenly sting. You cannot return them, you aren’t meant to, but Aeons above… you want to. 

You can feel yourself teetering over the edge, Welt able to make you cum like even Nanook had never managed, and you fight off a sudden rush of tears as he whispers his love for you yet again as he fills you up, his thick cum a hot weight inside that has you following suit quickly. He holds you through your orgasm, fucking you through it as well even as it sends him into overstimulation, and as you finally come down he pulls out, watching the way his thick spend dribbles out of your messy hole before laying down beside you, content. The two of you could bathe tomorrow morning, for now you were both too tired. 

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more, everything I ever searched the stars for…” he whispers in your ear through a pleased sigh, wrapping his arms around you, “I love you.” His hands, rough from use over his many years, toy with your own, and you close your eyes and bask in the feeling of him lacing your fingers together. 

“And I you,” you murmur softly, eyes slightly wet as he nuzzles his face into your neck and begins to ease into a deep sleep, and as you glance over to where your phone rests on the bedside table. A harsh light fills the room as the screen lights up with a message, likely from Kafka, requesting an update before she made a move on Herta’s Space Station; Welt, ever-trusting, only hides his face in your neck as you slowly reach over with a trembling hand and turn the phone face-down. 

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling as your fingers toy with the hair at his nape without you even realizing it. His breathing has evened out, and he’s clearly asleep — content and happy in your arms while also with you in his. You look down at him, then sigh again. You’d been doing that a lot lately, Aeons knew why. 

“Sorry, Mr. Yang, but I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[can-i-press-play]

[b1ackoutartist]

Songs of the Heart

natasha x reader

this was written randomly while I was bored in a meeting a few days ago...so no promises for correct grammar or anything

ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗

The evening sun set the sky ablaze in hues of orange, pink, and gold, the last light of the day reflecting off the calm waters of the small, secluded beach. The sand felt warm beneath Y/N’s feet, the remnants of the day’s heat captured between each grain.

She walked hand in hand with Natasha Romanoff, the global superstar with a voice that had enchanted millions. Away from the limelight, however, she was simply Tasha – Y/N's girlfriend.

Despite the roaring success of Natasha's new album, the two had managed to keep their relationship under wraps. Their getaways, like this hidden beach, were their sanctuary.

"I sometimes wonder," Natasha mused, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently, "if there’s a song out there that could truly describe what I feel when I’m with you."

Y/N chuckled, "Considering you're the superstar, shouldn't you be writing that song?"

Natasha stopped walking and turned to Y/N, her green eyes shimmering with a mix of mischief and warmth. "Maybe I already have," she whispered, pulling Y/N close. The world seemed to stand still as their lips met, a soft and lingering kiss, full of a year’s worth of shared secrets and love.

Pulling apart, Y/N grinned, "Then when do I get a private performance?"

As Natasha leaned her forehead against Y/N’s, she whispered, "How about tonight, under the stars?" A small gust of wind lightly tousled their hair, blending the fiery hue of Natasha's locks with Y/N's softer shades.

Y/N looked deep into Natasha's eyes, nodding. "I'd love that."

A few steps later, they came across a small alcove in the rocks. It was shielded on three sides, with a clear view of the ocean. The waves gently crashed, and the last rays of the sun gave the world an ethereal glow. Natasha spread out a picnic blanket she'd discreetly carried in her tote bag.

As Y/N laid back, Natasha carefully placed a delicate string of fairy lights around the alcove, turning it into a haven of soft, twinkling stars.

“I had a feeling we'd find the perfect spot,” Natasha smirked.

They settled down, side by side, their fingers intertwining. Y/N watched as Natasha took out a pair of wine glasses and poured a soft, rose-hued drink. “A little rosé to match the sunset?” Natasha proposed, raising her glass.

“To us,” Y/N countered, her glass meeting Natasha’s with a delicate chime.

Unbeknownst to them, a camouflaged photographer captured that intimate toast, the way their fingers remained interlocked even as they sipped, and the pure, unadulterated joy in their eyes.

The night deepened. At one point, Natasha gently nudged Y/N, pointing to the sky. A shooting star! Both women closed their eyes, making silent wishes. The hidden camera clicked again, capturing the profiles of two women, lost in dreams and wishes under a canopy of stars.

The following morning, Y/N entered her college, sensing a palpable shift. Whispers followed her, eyes discreetly peeking over textbooks and from behind laptops.

The palpable shift in the atmosphere was unmistakable. As Y/N made her way through the hallways, the air felt charged, alive with murmurs and stolen glances. She tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, but every hushed whisper, every furtive look, made her acutely aware of the scrutiny she was under.

Y/N's best friend, Kate, quickly joined her side, a mix of concern and surprise evident in her eyes. "Did you know about this?" Kate inquired, showing her phone screen which displayed the now-viral photos of Y/N and Natasha.

"I had no idea," Y/N whispered, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit she'd developed over the years. "It was supposed to be a private evening."

Kate, ever the protective friend, frowned. "These paparazzi, they have no respect for boundaries."

Before Y/N could respond, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Natasha, attaching the link to an online article. Y/N's fingers hesitated for a moment before tapping on it. The article was filled with the same pictures Kate had just shown her – Y/N and Natasha beneath the canopy of fairy lights, their figures illuminated against the twilight sky, lost in each other's company.

The article's title read, “Beyond the Spotlight: Natasha Romanoff's Starry-Eyed Romance.” The words that followed painted a picture of two people deeply in love, away from the world's eyes. Though the tone was respectful, Y/N couldn't help but feel exposed.

Another buzz. Another message from Natasha: "I'm so sorry, detka. I never intended for this to happen. I just wanted a perfect night with you."

Y/N quickly typed back, "Natasha, it's okay. Yes, it was a secret but this doesn´t mean it can´t be private anymore."

A few moments later, Natasha responded, "You're incredible. I don't deserve you."

Kate, who had been watching the exchange over Y/N's shoulder, chuckled softly. "You two are so sweet it's almost sickening. In a good way."

Y/N laughed, nudging Kate with her elbow, "Thanks for that, Kate."

Kate wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her into a side hug. "Just remember," she whispered, "love like yours is rare. And even if the whole world knows about it, it doesn't change what you two have."

Y/N looked at the photos once more, Natasha's smile radiating warmth and love. She replied to Natasha, "We'll get through this together. Always."

And as Y/N walked through the college corridors, with Kate by her side, she felt a newfound sense of pride. Yes, their love story was now public, but it was theirs. And nothing could ever take that away.

[esouliie]

epitome of art | immortal she.

(ballerina!natasha x reader)

summary | You had known her before she was the Black Widow…when she was just Natalia… the ballerina who had stolen your heart.

notes | here is part 1 of epitome of art. i was going to post this tomorrow but was feeling generous. also, count how many times i use ‘gaze’. without further ado, leave a like, comment & reblog. enjoy! :)

word count | 2.4K

You first hear about her in the local newspaper.

Carelessly flicking through the print before being greeted by an overwhelming ripple of colour. An entire page dedicated to the infamous Alianova Ballet Company of Russia. The company was the most well-known in Europe. There was no high-profile event where they didn’t perform or weren’t invited.

Like most ballet companies, there were more women than men. They all stood tall in a line upon a stage, clad in their tutus. Each and every face was more beautiful than the last as your gaze scans over the large photograph.

However, her gracious features draw your attention. Her eyes were the blue-green of mountain lakes, with tones that could share tales of sky and evergreen giants. Her braided hair sunk past her shoulders and fell to her waist. as she stood at the end next to a blonde woman, shorter than her by no more than two inches. Both smiled gracefully as their hands folded over one another.

You didn’t think much of it for a moment, gliding over the words beneath the two, but you can't seem to help yourself and your gaze returns to the photograph.

Natalia Romanova -The Prima Ballerina of Russia.

--

A week later, you find yourself outside the theatre hosting Alianova Company’s Swan Lake. The front of the building is lit from within, casting a soft glow over the massive posters hung from nearby. You had never before seen a ballet. Despite all of the other girls in your classes growing up, you never had a ballet phase, preferring to play soccer and volleyball instead.

Inside was just as magnificent. Plush royal blue velvet covers every surface - all the seats, the floors, the stage curtains - matched in grandeur by gold trim and soft lighting around the tiers. The ceiling above you is arched and golden, with lights glistening around the dome. As you gaze around the theatre in awe, you notice people fill their seats from either side of you. Within a few minutes, the lights dim and the orchestra begins to play.

It was nothing like you expected, all flawless grace and long lines. Having never danced before, you were enthralled by the dancers' elegant movements, the fluidity of their limbs and the powerful leaps across the stage. The dancers possessed the ability to morph time and defy gravity it seems.

Thirty minutes easily slip by before four swans take the stage. You lean forward in your seat, glancing over the balcony for a wider view. The ballerinas move in unison, their arms crossed over one another. Their light pink tutus, illuminated in a swirl of rainbow hues, bounce as their ribbon-tied ankles push their body fluently off the ground.

As wonderful as all the performers were, something about Natalia captures your attention the most.

Despite the fact that the dance is one of synchronism, your eyes follow only her. From your high seat, she dances as if it were the only way her body knew how to speak, flowing in graceful arcs, limbs in constant motion, telling a story in a way that speech alone could never achieve.

Bewitched, you fail to register the other swans join the stage.

An anomaly- a prince- glides towards the redhead.

Except for a stray curl that tumbles delicately over his brow, his short, dark hair remains in place. His emotive eyes were the colour of a cloudless sky seen through a broken prison wall, of a perfect raindrop on a blue poppy, of a river racing to join the great ocean.

The audience vibrates as the performance transitions to a duet between Natalia and the prince. She floats through the air and twirls effortlessly in a serenity the audience craves. The prince summons his strength as he lifts her above his head. The dance between them exudes intimacy, a tug-of-war between the two lovers. Strings of classical music speak to parts of the brain that predate language, stirring the deepest part of the soul.

The music thickens.

Their sensuality entwines before bursting into the most vibrant colours. The strings eventually fade and the curtains close as he runs off stage and she collapses gracefully into herself.

Time seems to lose you as the audience’s eruption breaks you free from a trance. The curtain moves to reveal the cast running onto the stage. Natalia will be back to accept her much deserved adulation. All the swans await with grace before the prince and the swan appear.

The audience grows louder as waves of roses were thrown at the ballerina, narrowly missing her as they landed at the front of the stage. Her stoic demeanour had vanished, and she was smiling freely. You can tell by the scarlet flush on her cheeks and the heaving of her chest.

She was the epitome of art.

You couldn’t help but clap and add to uproar. She graces you with a few more seconds in her presence before she leads the dancers off the stage. The curtains close for the final time tonight and you exhale a deep breath you weren't aware you were. Subtle tears fall from your lashes, the salt greeting the smile upon your lips.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Your seated neighbour innocently asks, having stood up to put her long coat on.

“Yeah.” You answer in a daze. Memories of the night replaying through your mind. Anything to see the Prima again.

The woman smirks, her palm finding perch on your forearm. “Natalia manages to leave everyone stunned. It’s her superpower as Russia’s Prima Ballerina.”

You had only just noticed the woman’s Russian accent. Whipping your heard in her direction, you spot blonde curls- the colour oddly familiar - disappear into the crowd leaving the auditorium.

The Russian Prima. Natalia Romanova.

No wonder her dance provoked such immeasurable feelings you’d never felt before. You ached for the ballerina; to feel the ripples of hard muscle beneath her soft skin, to trail your lips over the vast expanse of her ivory skin, to weave your fingers through her red curls and pull, pull, pull.

You burned for Natalia.

That was the last time you saw her.

---

Years later, after graduating college with high honours, you land an interview to intern for Tony Stark – the infamous Iron Man – at SHIELD. Working for them meant you’d be in close proximity with the Avengers. Not that you pay them much attention, Iron Man was the only hero you needed.

The philanthropist was your idol. Being a tech-nerd yourself, you had looked up to him since you could remember, and when you heard about this incredible opportunity, you knew you had to take it.

There were no specifications for the job. For all you knew, you would be made his personal assistant, and you’d accept without hesitation.

The day comes sooner than you'd like, but you're prepared. Your bedroom walls are covered in disorderly piles of notes and post-it notes containing rehearsed interview responses. You wanted this more than anything. Even as you stood in front of the mirror, pulling on a tailor-fitted, slimming skirt suit you had purchased specifically for this interview, new answers continued unabated.

You looked good. Really good.

With curls that conceal your chest, your fingers fluff at your roots before sweeping the tresses over your shoulders. You were nothing if not keenly aware of your appearance and its impact on others. 

SHIELD was a large organisation, and while intelligence was favoured, image could always be used to one's advantage, particularly when dealing with men. You'd learned from previous interviews with large corporations that there was very little to lose and a lot to gain by flaunting your appeal.

It's not so much what patriarchy does to you but rather what it can do for you.

You left an hour before the interview starts, easily participating city traffic at this time in the morning. You were lucky enough to hail a cab right outside your apartment complex. You shift nervously in the back of the car, reviewing some last-minute information on Earth's greatest heroes.

Normal looking faces stare back at you, with simple information written underneath.

Product of War.

Billionaire.

Scientist.

Norse God.

Archer.

What you found most intriguing was one of the heroes didn’t have a photo. An agent known as The Black Widow had the littlest information.

No background history, no accolades, no picture.

Just a name.

The anonymity of this individual perplexes you, but as the taxi turned onto Park Avenue, the sight of Stark Tower in the distance snaps you back to reality.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you weave your way through the throngs of people toward the revolving glass. Having practiced walking in heels - something you had never worn until you started job hunting - you manage to make it in one piece. The inside was nothing like the hectic streets of 7am New York.

As you approach the only desk on the open floor, your heels click loudly, drawing the attention of the elderly lady behind it.  

“Good morning, I’m here for a meeting with Mr Stark.”

“What’s the name?” The woman asks.

“Y/N L/N.”

“Oh yes, our newest intern.” She beams.

"Hopefully." You laugh politely, not wanting to jinx your chance before even meeting your potential boss. You should never count your chickens before the eggs hatch... or something along those lines.

“Right, Mr Stark is expecting you.” She places the phone back in its holder.

Since when did she call-?

The receptionist gestures to the lift on the right. “Top floor. You won’t miss it.”

The rumble of business men entering the building startles the silence. You rush towards the lift, not wanting to share it with anyone.

The ride was nothing short of terrifying. Constantly on edge someone was going to step in and you’d have to engage in small talk, or the fact that the Tony Stark was awaiting your arrival.

Fortunately, no one called for the elevator, and you were on the top floor in no time. The doors slide open to reveal a woman with long blonde hair. She introduces herself as Pepper – Stark’s personal assistant - and she’s been instructed to lead you towards his office.

No other words are exchanged between you both. The door to the office creeps into view. Excitedly, you’re already opening it before remembering to knock.

“Come in.” A voice bellows from within, and you’re forced to take a deep breath before proceeding.

“Oh, it’s you!” You cheeks immediately warm under the man’s gaze. Pepper entering behind you forces you deeper into the spacious room, and the door click shuts.

No turning back now.

Tony Stark rises, working his way towards you, his hand already extended for you to take.

You grasp it confidently. “It’s such an honour to meet you, sir. I’m such a huge fan of your work. I know everything about you.”

You fumbled. Practice composure flew straight out the window in the first minute. You shouldn't be surprised if passers-by noticed your flushed cheeks from down there.

Mr Stark’s laugh puts an end to your self - deprecation as he pats your hand, which is still grasped in his. “That’s good to know.”

He doesn't let go. His other hand presenting the the white sofa across from his large mahogany desk. It’s you that ends the contact.

The sofa feels like silk underneath your fingertips. It most likely costs more than your entire apartment. He returns to his chair and gives you a knowing look. He must have flustered woman fawning over him every day. You look around the room, avoiding eye contact. Pepper was now nowhere to be seen.

“I see you’ve just graduated. Bachelors in Computer Science. MIT.” He reads aloud from your resume.

Getting into MIT, was no small feat. You had worked your ass off throughout high school and even gave away all your free time to volunteer at your local soup kitchen. No doubt you struggled immensely, putting your mental health on the back burner for years, but you persevered and were proud of your accomplishments thus far.

"Well, I can't think of anyone more perfect. You've got it, kid.” Those words leave you breathless. Your lungs refusing to take in oxygen.

You couldn't have gotten the internship that easily. All that time, spent on perfecting your answers to impress the billionaire, was for naught.

“W-what? You don’t even want to ask any questions…? Why am I interested in the internship…? What do I want to do in the future…? What makes me think I'm a good fit for SHIELD?"

Stark snorts and leans back, his heels resting on the desk. The man was clearly amused to have left you so dumbstruck. “No, I know everything I need to.”

The words barely register, the goosebumps having frozen your body stiff, your palms rooted to plush sofa. Your eyes sting as you take in more light than usual.

He sighs, shuffling in his seat. "However, I'm sorry to admit that the internship isn't exactly what you anticipated.”

Confusion is written across your face, and your brow wrinkles as panic fills your chest. Your heartbeat running too fast for your body to keep up with.

If the internship with Stark wasn’t what you applied for then what did you apply for? Too many thoughts race through your mind, each one making less and less sense.

“You won’t be working for me.” He clarifies.

Your mind goes quiet.

He reaches for a desk button. “Pepper, call her in.”

The distant ding of the elevator, accompanied by slow footfalls, reaches your ears. The other door, positioned to the right of Mr Stark’s desk, opens and a tall woman glides through. Red hair cascades in a heavy braid over her shoulder, obstructing her face from your view. Well- muscled arms and legs clad in a leather suit carry her towards Stark.

“Red.” He acknowledges her before nodding his head towards you.

She spins in your direction.

Blue-green.

Heavy braid.

You were lost for words, unable to turn away.

Once again, time is lost to you. How similar it is to water; both can pass slowly, a single drop at a time, even freeze, or rush by without notice.

Her gaze sweeps over you, her face expressionless as she reads you. Her body so still, so poised, that you're not sure if she's breathing. Full red lips sit in contrast to her fair skin. Her eyes remain as stone. Pain seeps thought the cracks. They're blue-green, but not as bright as you remember.

Still, she’s as beautiful as the first time you saw her.

Natalia Romanova.

“Instead, you'll be working for Red over here, and I'm guessing from your expression that you have no clue who she is.”

Russia’s Prima Ballerina.

“She’s the Black Widow.”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹ ⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ

taglist: @vancityfire13 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @jestercat28 @truthindreams @me-uglypretty @karmasgxrl

[fanfic-stories-and-plots]

Info: Fanfic that I posted on AO3. John Allerdyce X Fem Reader pairing.

You Are Home to Me Part 1

Chaos. There were armed men inside the mansion. They were trying to capture the students at night. You tried to make it out with the others, but was cornered. You didn’t trust your power enough to get you out of this situation. You could only make a few flowers grow. That’s it. She could hear several voices calling out to her. The loudest being John. Your John. You caught sight of the trio as something behind you made a sound. You look back in time to see a portal open up. A pair of arms had come out and pulled you in. John’s voice was the last thing you heard before being dragged into a room. The person, man, was holding you hostage in front of another group of armed people. This time you were in a field with people surrounding them in a circle..

You couldn’t make out what was said between the opposing sides, but the next thing you know, you were thrown into another portal. Not the same as the first. The first being a gold portal in shape of a door. This one was black smoke. The next thing you know, you were in the desert. You didn’t know where. You heard sounds behind you. Men. Once they got closer, you knew that you had landed somewhere in the Middle East. As the men came closer, you tried to back away. As you did, you unintentionally make some lilies grow. Your powers always act up when you were nervous or afraid.

The men stopped and lowered their weapons. They turned to one of the men who had a scar and he said something to them. One of the men walked up and then everything was black.

You wake up with a jolt. It was the same dream every year. The day that you were stolen from your home. Your timeline and dropped off here in another. Those men and women from before, the ones that called themselves the Time Variance Authority, had tried to steal you away from here. Tried being the operative word. They took you from the cave in Afghanistan and brought you to a place that had many computers. There were people everywhere, some even at desks. The lead woman had apologized for the incident, but you could tell she didn’t mean it. She had said that your kidnapper had been dealt with, but you couldn’t go back to your timeline. She mentioned something about pruning, but you didn’t listen. You didn’t care. All you cared about was the fact you wouldn’t be seeing John again. Your Fire. Nor would you see Bobby or Rogue. It hurt. It hurt so much. You start rubbing your fingers against the pendant in your hand.

It was a charm bracelet. You and Marie had matching bracelets that John and Bobby got the two of you. The charms were all the same except yours had a flame inside of a heart and Marie’s had a snowflake. Your bracelet was the only thing on you that reminded you of John. Of home. The woman was still talking when someone came bursting in. They were frantic saying something about the Sacred Timeline. You couldn’t really follow the conversation, but they turned to you.

It turns out it was your lucky day. You weren’t being pruned, but you weren’t going home either. It seemed like you were important to the Sacred Timeline for some reason, so you were sent back. It had been two years since then. Two years, you had been stuck in this cave as a personal gardener for your captors. They had given you a secluded part of the cave that had plenty of ground to work with. Your only job was to make fruits and vegetables for the men.

“Bad dream again?”

You turn to the voice. The only other prisoner here. Dr. Yinsen. He had arrived a year into your captivity. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, but he did value your powers. After seeing you use them, he knew that you weren’t from here. He allowed you your space and he did ask for certain plants and vegetables. You obliged. He was a kind man. He also taught you some of his language and some general first aid.

“Yes. It was when I was brought here.” You responded. Dr. Yinsen hummed. He was reading. The men had allowed him some books. You dug out your charm bracelet out of your pocket. It was one of the only things that would comfort you.

“A gift?” Dr. Yinsen asked when he noticed it.

You nodded. “It was from my boyfriend back home.” You stated.

“Young love.” Dr. Yinsen said with a fond smile. “My wife and I were young sweethearts as well.”

You perked up at that. Neither of you pried into each other’s lives. You both knew that something bad had happened for you both to end up here.

“Did you have any children?” You asked delicately.

“Yes, two boys and a girl. The youngest would have started her final year in her schooling. Her mother and I were proud when she was accepted into a university in London.” Dr. Yinsen responded.

You smiled at the proud look on his face. The look of a father who had done his best. You couldn’t say the same about your parents. They tried to accept you, but had decided to abandon you on the streets of New York when you were six. It had been a miracle that Professor Xavier had found you. He and Professor Monroe had taken you in and the mansion was where you stayed until the incident.

There was a commotion outside. The leader of the group came in and started speaking to Dr. Yinsen. The man sprang into action.

“(Y/N), I need you to bring me my kit.” Dr. Yinsen demanded as he cleared off the extra cot. You nodded and rushed towards his side of the cave and searched for the brown bag. Finding it, you rushed back in time to see the men bring in an injured man.

“Here is your bag, Dr.” You said and immediately backed out of the way.

“Thank you, Plant giver.” Dr. Yinsen said as he rummaged through the bag. After finding what he needed, he assessed the man. He started speaking to the man. The man stood there for a moment before barking out an order and then leaving. The others followed suit except two men.

“I will need your help.” Dr. Yinsen stated. You walked over.

“I don’t know how much I can be of help, but I will try.” You responded. Dr. Yinsen started working on the man. You followed every order he gave you. Most of the time you just sat there while Yinsen retrieved shrapnel from the man’s chest. You looked away from the sight. Once he was done, he had you retrieve the car battery that was sent to them. You set it down next to the man, as Dr. Yinsen worked on some sort of contraption. You went to go wash your hands in the corner that reserved for bathroom usage.

You heard footsteps behind you.

“Thank you for your help.” Dr. Yinsen said.

“You don’t have to thank me. I would gladly help you.” You said as you wiped your wet hands.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who is he? Why is he so special?” You asked lowly. Dr. Yinsen looked to you for a second before answering.

“He is Tony Stark. He owns the Stark Industries. A company who specializes in making weapons for the U.S. Army.” Dr. Yinsen stated. You looked a bit baffled. You had noticed at some point that all of the weapons here were Stark Industries.

“But how did the weapons end up here?” You whispered.

“That is the question. An answer that I wish to know myself.” Dr. Yinsen said as he washed all of his equipment.

“I know this is too much to ask, but I need some vegetables and fruits for Mr. Stark.” Dr. Yinsen stated. You nodded. You knew a dismissal when you heard it. You went to your garden and took stock of what you had. There were a couple of small apple trees in the back, but not much else. You grabbed a basket and started working. When you got to the trees, apples started to grow. They were the right shade of red and decently sized. You then started thinking of other fruits and veggies that would be needed and decided to go all out.

You had all the time to think of what to grow. You had experimented on your powers and felt them grow over the two years you were in here. You weren’t just growing plants. You were growing gardens. You ended up growing anything that you could think of. Carrots, cucumbers, broccoli, green beans, and some lettuce. You went to the small corner and thought of some strawberries. A small tree began to blossom and the berries grew from its branches. She knew that these were Dr. Yinsen’s favorites. She grabbed several and made her way back to the main part of the cave.

She set the basket down next to the doctor.

“You’ve outdone yourself. Thank you.” Dr. Yinsen said.

You gave him a small smile. You walked to your corner where your cot was. You got on your knees and reached for a book from under your cot. Once you had it. You went to sit on the cot and opened it. They were drawings. Drawings you had made of your friends and family. On the first page was John. It was a full portrait with his lighter. The next page was Marie and Bobby. You started making this sketch book as a way to not forget them. You knew that one day, you would forget.

You were good at making portraits. Professor Munroe wanted you to enter into a contest for the art museum, but you never got the chance. You looked through the portraits that you drew. The teachers, the students, even other mutants they had met, including Magneto. You wanted to remember the good and the bad. Feeling tired, you put the book back and laid down on the cot. The only thing you could hear was the fire on the other side of the cave and Dr. Yinsen working. You then drifted off to sleep.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Two

Fool's Fare: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Crossdressing, Cranky pirates, Jake Seresin. I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I feel like this is NOT my best work, but I'm not sure if that's because I'm a perfectionist or if it's because it's actually bad. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

You bolted upright in your bed, sheets drenched with sweat as you fought to regain control of your breathing. Your heart hammered away in your ears as the sound of rushing water faded into your memory. You glanced out the window to see the soft pink of the rising sun as it sat just below the horizon. Good, you still had time. You scrambled out of bed, feet carrying you quickly into the front room. Bradley had his foot propped up on the table to lace his boot, a nasty habit your mother had scolded him for countless times when she was still alive.

He glanced up at you with a frown, noticing your disheveled appearance. “Are you alright?”

“You can’t go,” you said flatly, staring at him. Bradley let out a long sigh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Guppy,” he started, “we’ve talked about this.”

“No, you’ve talked about this. You decided that I wasn’t important enough to be included in the conversation.”

“That isn’t fair,” he grumbled. “I'm doing this for us and our future.”

“You’re doing it because you can’t stand the thought of staying here another minute,” you snapped at him, causing him to shrink back into himself with a grimace. “Bradley, it will kill me to not know whether you’re safe or not.”

“I already told you-”

“Yes, I know what you said,” you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “But, I will spend every waking minute wondering whether or not you’ve been captured or killed. I will be left here to wait for you on that hill like Mother did.”

Bradley said nothing as he stared at you. His lips pressed into a thin line as he walked past you and down the hall to his room. You heard him moving around, opening and closing drawers before he came walking back towards you.

“Here,” he said, shoving the clothes into your open arms. You stared bewilderingly down at them before looking back up at him. He gestured for you to move down the hall. “Go change.”

“What?”

“Go change,” he said again, a bit more bite to his tone. You slowly moved past him and down to your room. You stripped your nightdress off and quickly began to pull on the shirt and pants he had shoved at you. You didn’t even know he still had these things. They were a little big on you, but they would do. You had just finished lacing your boots up when a knock came at the door.

“I’m decent,” you called, and Bradley swung the door open. He stared down at you, nodding with approval at how his clothes fit you. He tossed you a rucksack that you barely caught.

“Pack only what you need.”

“Bradley, what-”

“C’mon, Guppy,” he ordered, rushing around your room to pack what he thought you might need. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I don’t understand,” you frowned. Bradley turned to you with an incredulous expression.

“The only way you’re going to let me go,” he said like he was speaking to a child, “is if you come with me. So, you’re coming with me.”

“Women aren’t allowed on ships, Rooster.”

“Which is why you’re dressed in my hand-me-downs right now,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m getting you on that ship as a cabin boy if nothing else. Do you have everything?”

He rushed out of your room with you in tow. “Yes, I think so,” you muttered.

“Good,” he said. “I’ve already left a note for Tom. Now let’s get goin’.”

Bradley opened the front door and walked out without looking back. You moved to join him, but hesitated, resting a hand on the door jamb. You turned to take one last look at your home. It was dark, the morning light not having reached the windows yet, and it felt empty as you stood there.

“Guppy?”

You turned to look at Bradley who had stopped a few feet ahead of you. The two of you stared at one another for a moment before he reached his hand out to you. You took it, closing the door to the little cottage as you allowed him to pull you forward.

The docks were already bustling as Bradley pushed his way through the throng of fishermen, you not far behind him. He carried himself confidently, standing a couple of inches above everyone else, and waving to the familiar faces around him. You, however, did your best to hide your face with the jacket and hat Bradley had handed you. It would do you no good now to get caught trying to sneak onto a pirate ship.

“You’re late.”

You glanced up to see Captain Seresin leaning against a stack of crates, a frown pulling on his lips. A handsome, dark-skinned man watched Bradley stoically.

“Yes,” Bradley said, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that.”

“You’ll do well to remember to be on time from now on,” Jake sniffed, green eyes glancing down to where you hid behind Bradley. “Who’s this?”

“This is my younger brother,” Bradley started, moving to rest a hand on your shoulder and pull you forward for the captain to see. Jake stared at you, face unreadable as he looked you over. You stood up a little straighter, puffing your chest out. Bradley had you bind it before you left to help conceal it beneath the jacket.

“What’s your name?” he asked finally. You balked, eyes darting nervously to Bradley. How had the two of you not thought up a name? It was a careless mistake, and the longer you took to answer, the more you began to panic.

“Pete,” Bradley rushed out. Your eyes widened. “Pete Mitchell.”

“Pete Mitchell?” The dark-skinned man blinked in surprise as Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “As in the sailor who went by the name of Maverick?”

“He was my father,” you said quietly, head hanging. How did these men know your father? It didn’t make sense that these men would know him.

“You hear that, Javy?” Jake laughed. “Didn’t know the great Maverick had a kid.”

“Neither did I,” the dark-skinned man, Javy, frowned. His eyes now held a look of intrigue as they studied you. You shifted, trying to hide yourself behind Bradley as the man continued to stare down at you.

“Could be good to have him on the ship with us,” Jake mused, and Javy snorted.

“Or it could be bad luck.”

“Nonsense!” Jake cried out, grin wide. He turned his attention to you. “You got any experience sailing, lad?”

You gave another glance at Bradley who gave you a small nod of encouragment.

“No, sir,” you admitted. “But, my father taught me as much as he could before he died.”

Jake hummed, casting one last look at Javy. He looked back at you with a smirk.

“The two of you can follow my quarter master, Javy, here to your quarters.”

You moved to follow Bradley as Javy motioned for the two of you to follow him, but Jake grabbed your wrist to stop you. You looked back at him curiously, and he fixed you with a humor-filled smirk.

“Don’t go causin’ any trouble on my ship now, you hear?” He winked. Your face remained stoic, unsure of how to respond. He let go of your wrist and motioned with his head for you to follow the others. As you walked onto the ship, you glanced behind you to see a pair of twinkling green eyes still staring after you.

The thrill of finally setting sail after a lifetime of having to make due with the stories that Bradley and your father told you was unlike anything you could have imagined. The sea crashed against the underside of the ship, and the ocean spray hit your face in a fine mist. You were leaning off the side of the ship, watching as your home faded away in the distance.

“You lean any farther, and you’ll fall in.”

You jumped, nearly falling off the ship in the process. The man grabbed you quickly with a low hum of “easy” before helping you stand up straight. He was handsome, dark blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his brown hair was pushed back off of his face.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Bob.”

“It’s fine,” you breathed, offering him a small smile. “I shouldn’t have been leanin’ over like that. My name is Pete.”

“I heard,” he chuckled. “You’re the talk of the crew. No one knew Maverick had a son.”

“So I’ve heard,” you muttered. Before you could ask him about your father, he clapped a hand on your back, pulling you towards the hull.

“C’mon,” he grinned as the two of you walked. “Let’s go make supper for the crew, cabin boy.”

You followed him down into the dark belly of the ship, moving around crew members as they rested in their bunks. Bob led you into a back room that functioned as the galley. Bob showed you where to find the different tools you would need to prepare different meals for the crew.

“You’ll be expected to help me out with the cooking as the new cabin boy,” he explained as he grabbed ingredients for that night’s meal. You fell into easy conversation with the young man, sharing stories and laughing.

“And then the fish began wriggling, and he hollered so loud, they must have heard it clear across the Atlantic!” Bob laughed as you giggled.

“Reminds me of the time Rooster tried to catch a fish with his bare hands,” you joked, remembering how excited he had been before a rogue wave had taken him by surprise.

Bob turned to you. “What was he like?”

“Who?” you asked, slicing away at the loaf of bread in your hand. “My father?”

Bob nodded, and you paused your movements with a sigh. You stared up at the ceiling as the familiar sense of grief washed over you. “He was very kind. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like him, actually. He was a great storyteller, too. I remember when I was younger, he would sit by the fireplace next to my mother, and he would tell me stories about men who went on grand adventures off at sea. Rooster used to pretend like he wasn’t listening to the stories, but he’d always ask just as many questions as I would.”

You felt tears prickle at your lashline, and you quckly scrubbed at them. Bob gave you a sympathetic smile.

“You must really miss him,” he said softly. You gave him a watery smile.

“I am who I am today because of him,” you murmured. You jumped when the door to the galley swung open to reveal a handsome man with skin darker than Javy’s.

“Bob, is the food ready yet?” he huffed. Bob scrambled to do one last check over the food before nodding his head.

“Yeah, it’s done Reuben. We’ll bring it out in a minute,” Bob stuttered frantically, rushing to dish out the food. Reuben grunted before turning to walk back out the door.

He stopped, glancing back at Bob. “Oh, before I forget. The captain says he’s eating in his quarters tonight.”

Bob sighed. “Thanks, Reuben.”

The other man sent him a wave over his shoulder and departed without another word. Bob quickly handed you a serving dish before pushing you towards the door.

“You better go,” he murmured. “The captain doesn’t like waiting. His quarters are upstairs and the door right in front of you when you enter the hall. Knock on it when you get there.”

You gave him a nod before turning to make your way in the direction he specified. You passed several men who were gathered around the end of a large table. They all cried out at the sight of the dice that rolled out of the cup and onto the table.

“Snake eyes!”

The air turned cool as you stepped out onto the deck, the last rays of the sun disappearing beneath the horizon. You saw the multitude of stars that were already shining in the night sky, and you could just make out some of the constellations your father had taught you.

“The most important star you’ll ever need to know, little minnow,” he had whispered to you one night, guiding your eyes up to the heavens, “is Polaris, the north star. A sailor is never lost as long as they can find it. It brings me home to you, your mother, and Bradley every time I’m away.”

You stared at the shining star, heart wrenching. “You didn’t bring him home.”

You continued on, stepping into the hallway where three doors stood. You walked up to the one directly in front of you, knocking like Bob had instructed. A beat past, and the door opened to reveal Javy standing in front of you. He blinked, taking in your much smaller form.

“Cabin boy,” he greeted, eyes looking at you with intrigue still. You cleared your throat, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“I’ve brought the captain his supper,” you murmured, eyes looking everywhere but at the man before you. “I’m sorry, sir. We didn’t know you’d be eating here as well.”

“I’m not,” he replied, taking the serving dish carefully from you. “I’ll be joining the crew momentarily. I’ll give the captain his meal, cabin boy. You go on ahead.”

You hesitated. You weren’t sure why you did, but the sound of pained grunt from inside the cabin caught your attention. You moved to peer inside, but the quarter master blocked your view.

“That will be all, cabin boy,” he gritted out, a warning in his eyes. You nodded hesitantly before turning to slowly make your way back out onto the deck.

When you made your way back into the galley, you found that Bob had already begun to dish out some of the plates.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, seeing the pinched look on your face. You looked up at him quickly before giving him a very unconvincing smile in reassurance.

“Yes,” you said. “I thought I heard someone in pain in the captain’s cabin.”

Bob stilled for a moment before continuing his movements, humming in thought. “Was anyone there with him?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Javy was there.”

Bob breathed a breath of relief. “That’s good, then. He’ll take care of Jake, don’t you worry.”

You hummed, grabbing a plate he handed you and walking out to serve the rest of the crew.

A couple of weeks had gone by, and you were slowly falling into a routine aboard the ship. Bob kept you busy with meal preparations and stories of the different places the crew had visited during their travels. He was regaling you with one such tale as the two of you sat in the shade provided by the upper deck.

“I think you’ll like Jamaica, Pete,” Bob grinned at you.

“Why’s that?” you ask him, glancing at him sideways with a grin of your own.

“It’s great over there! The beaches are beautiful, and the food is amazing!”

“Personally,” drawled a deep voice, “I think Pete here would be more of a New Orleans fan.”

The two of you looked up to see Jake leaning against a barrel, and both of you scrambled to stand up.

“Captain,” you greeted, and Jake raised an eyebrow at you.

“I see you’ve been working hard.”

“We were just taking a break, Jake,” Bob muttered. Jake hummed at him before gesturing towards the hull.

“Why don’t you go finish preparing for tonight’s meal?”

Bob sighed, moving to obey the captain’s orders with you following.

“Not you, cabin boy,” Jake called after you with a smirk. You stopped, casting Bob a worried glance, but he gave you a smile in encouragement.

“I’ll see you down there,” he whispered to you. “Don’t let him scare you, okay? His bark is worse than his bite.”

“I heard that,” Jake groused. Bob chuckled before patting you gently on the shoulder and continuing on his way. You turned around to face the blond man who was watching you with a twinkle in his eye that you couldn’t place.

“What is it you need from me, Captain?” you asked him, hands folded behind your back. Jake’s smirk grew.

“No need to be so formal, cabin boy,” he chuckled. “You might as well call me Jake. Everyone else around here does.”

“I’ll call you ‘Jake’ when you call me ‘Pete,’” you shoot back at him, clamping your mouth shut as Jake let out a booming laugh, throwing his head back in glee.

“Any other captain would have had you flogged, cabin boy,” he grinned at you. “But lucky for you, I’m not them. Go on and help Bob with the food, and tell him to stop griping at the lack of supplies. We’ll be docking at Port Royal in the morning.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You turned to walk away, but Jake called after you.

“Oh, cabin boy?”

You turned to look at him.

“I never properly welcomed you that day,” he smirked, eyes shining. You frowned at him in confusion. Pushing up off the barrel, he strutted along the deck towards the stairs that led up to the upper deck. Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder.

“Welcome aboard the Hangman.”

[shadyshaylee114]

Repost: part 1

Sheriff crocodile x outlaw reader (mild violence) (brief mention of loss) (eggs)

You pulled your hair underneath your black hat looking at the rail cart across from you. In and out. Well that was the plan aslong as the sheriff didn't show up. You had moved into town a couple months ago starting with petty theft to test the waters. Taking a pocket watch here, a womens pendant there. Snatching coin pouches with ease. You had noticed the sheriff of course taking note of all law enforcement in any town you went into. You had dealt with hybrids they where still people just normally faster and with heavy animal features. A crocodile was new to you though. Sheriff Dryeden was a sight. For being what you assumed a cold blooded reptile.

He stood at 12"6' his tail dragged behind him as he walked at 1.8 meters long. He's a greenish-drab color with black stripes and spots on his body and tail. His underbelly was a almost white color from what you could tell from under his uniform. You found him incredibly attractive with his stupid shiny sheriff badge on his chest, his stupid sheriff hat, and his stupid yellow eyes that almost pierced your soul with ever glance.

The first time he noticed you was when you had stolen a bottle of liquor from the saloon owner. He had been meeting up with the mayor and didn't hesitate to take off after you. Luckily you where incredibly smart and fast on your feet managing to escape him, you went down an alley way and onto the back of your horse. Dryeden was in shock he'd been a fighter since he was a boy no one had escaped him. As he watched you flee on the back of your horse he felt his heart race for the first time in along time.

He continued trying to catch you. Yet you where always one step ahead managing to avoid getting caught by him. The time you robbed the bank he nearly caught you in the vault but you slid into the crowd unnoticed. When you robbed the mayor's home and escaped on the back of a farmers cart hiding amongst his vegetables.

The more dryeden chased you the more he felt the desire to keep you for himself grow.

Unfourtantly for you that damn crocodile was fast and smart he was always making it harder for you to get away. It started to seem like he knew what you wanted before you even did. If this town didn't have money, You would have already left town to avoid capture.

But you weren't one to let opportunities slip from your fingers , and that freshly mined gold was calling your name. The last job always being the biggest for you. It should be simple you didn't need the whole cart just a couple nuggets. Using the cover of the night you quietly slid up to the rail cart smiling brightly at the gold. Grabbing a couple nuggets sliding them into your bag you noticed the night had gone quiet.

"Why howdy Sheriff Dryeden." You said smiling turning to face the hybrid.

"I'm not letting you get away this time." He growled his eyes glowing under the lights from the mine shaft.

"What a hoot sheriff we both know you aren't going to catch me. I'm to clever for you." You purred placing your palms flat on the rail cart. As Dryden went to step foward you hoped over the rail cart taking off into the mine shaft.

Dryden pushed the rail cart over with a loud crash taking off after you with a roar. You could hear the pounding of his feet behind you. You cursed feeling the rush of air as his claws barely missed your arm. Taking a sharp turn you nearly avoided running into a empty cart.

Sliding quickly you stumbled as your feet struggled to catch traction. You panicked he was catching up fast. Finally pulling yourself together you barely managed to avoid getting slammed into by the sheriff. As he slammed into the wall the sound from the force rattled the walls. If you didn't get out he might make the mine collapse on you both.

He roared as you picked up speed. You had to find away back to the entrance it was the only way out you knew. Running as fast as you could you noticed that you where coming up on one of the stabilizer beams. You could tell that the sheriff was right behind you.

Quickly as you started to pass the pole you threw your hand out using your speed and momentum to turn you around putting you back in the direction you had come from. The sheriff snarled as he slid on the lose dirt trying to stop himself. He used his tail to try and stabilzize himself during the fall. As his chest sid onto the dirt he reached out with his hand wrapping it tight around your ankle. Yanking you down with him.

Letting out a startled cry that was cut short as your chest slammed into the ground. You kicked your leg back aiming for his face. He quickly caught your leg moving his face aside. Dryden could feel himself pressing against his cloaca what a sight you where! He finally had his claws on you after so many chases. He could hear his heart beating the fastest it every has.

Your ankles where in either hand spread out before him as you struggled to escape his grasp. His eyes focused in on your ass watching it move as you tried to pull your legs free clawing at the dirt in a desperate attempt to break free. He moved himself into a kneeling postion flipping you onto your back. He couldn't help but chuckle at the glare on your face.

"You're under arrest. I've caught you little outlaw so it's best you stop struggling. I'd hate to have to hurt your pretty face." He stated moving one clawed hand to grab your wrist placing the shackles from his belt securely onto you. He slid back down rubbing his snout against your cunt moaning softly at your scent. You glared at his actions pulling on your leg trying to get it free once more.

He pulled you over his shoulder as he stood to his feet. You winced in pain as some of his scutes dug into your stomach.

"Come on sheriff just let me go and I'll leave your town." You pleaded knowing the towns people would have you hanged for your crimes. But the sheriff ignored your pleas exiting the mine.

"I'm not taking you to the jailhouse." He stated you blinked confused.

"Where are you taking me then?" Was he just going to kill you himself. Crocodile hybrid didn't eat humans right?

"To my home. Where I'm going to make you my mate." Dryden was blunt not even trying to hide his intentions.

"What? Why me? I'm an outlaw and your the law!" You cried out. Dryden had noticed that you hadn't said anything about being against him being your mate. Making his crocidle face break into a wide smile.

"Your cunning and resourceful you will be the perfect mate and I'm going breed you full of my eggs to prove it to you." He almost dropped you as the scent of your arousal filled his scense of smell at his words. "See my little outlaw your already readying yourself to take my eggs."

"No way your crazy!" You shouted trying to deny that the thoughts of being breed by the crocodile hybrid hadn't already been flooding your mind since the first day he'd chased you out of the saloon. He continued to ignore your cries and struggles as he made his way to his home. After a decent walk you had finally arrived. Dryden entered his home taking you straight to the nest.