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mothandpidgeon · 11 days ago

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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 3

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SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, mentions of abuse moth never uses y/n.

wc: 4.3k

a/n: I've had a tough couple of weeks (I mean, this week, who hasn't). I hope this will bring some of you joy this weekend. You deserve it. If it did, please please let me know. That would really cheer me up. Also, in case you missed it, going forward I'm going to be updating every 2 weeks. I really hope I can keep it up!

I must thanks @moonlitbirdie and @lowlights for the beta and their massive support of me in life and in writing this. Also thank you @schnarfer for helping me brainstorm some plot!

🐈‍⬛

Aunt Margot’s ringing up a tattooed girl with glasses when you stomp into the shop. You swing the door open so violently that it’s bell thwacks into the wall. You had almost a mile in the woods to walk it off but your anger has only grown, ballooning into a hot rage that’s devouring everything in your path.

“How was it?” Margot asks with a sly smile once the customer’s left with their little brown paper bag.

“River’s disgusting,” you announce.

“What happened?” her expression immediately clouds with concern.

“This is exactly why I don’t date witches. I told you that I didn't want to be set up with him.” you rant, blowing past her into what was once the dining room.

There’s still a turned leg table at its center, now piled with goods for sale. Percy winds his way between beeswax candles and hand-poured soaps.

“Oh yes I really forced him on you,” she says with sarcasm. “I recall the two of you were practically necking in front of the whole coven last night.”

You’re not sure if it’s the idea that you almost fucked River or the term necking that grosses you out more but you cringe.

“He’s so backwards. Guys like him make me ashamed to be a witch,” you say.

“How can you say such a thing? Ashamed to be a witch! Do I need to remind you just how lucky you are? After what we’ve been through? Our kind was almost wiped off the face of the earth. By mortals like your little boyfriends,” she says.

“I’m so tired of hearing that. It’s a shitty excuse. Mortals killed witches hundreds of years ago so we get a free pass to do whatever we want. To treat our familiars like slaves,” you reply.

She scoffs. “Percy do you hear that?”

He squeaks indignantly.

“He’s offended by that,” she tells you.

“He should be. It’s worse than offensive. It’s evil!” you say. Your voice echoes so loudly it rattles the antique silvered mirror hanging over the mantle.

Margot gathers Percy in her palm calmly stroking his white fur, her eyebrow arched in a way that tells you she’s trying to be patient. You shouldn’t take out it on her. She’s never been anything but good to her familiar.

“Do you know what he said about Ezra?” You can feel tears begin to bite at your eyes.

She frowns when she reaches into your mind to hear it herself.

“His family’s always held onto the old ways," she says, shaking her head in disappointment.

“Don’t make excuses for him,” you snap.

She tucks Percy into the pocket of her cardigan and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“He’s an idiot and I’m proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself too. All of you,” she says.

–

The basement of the Arcane Page might be described as spooky, what with its cobwebs and dusty, amber jars. Apothecary shelves stocked with potions, rare ingredients, and animal bones meet the low ceilings. Disused broomsticks sit in the corner along with willow branches and a black goat’s horn. There are all manner of spell books down here along with hand written notes from your ancestors. At the center of the room there’s a wide oak table carved with runes and spells. It smells like ink and dried leaves and magic.

The warm sunset streams through the egress windows catching the dust that floats in the air. Margot didn’t have to be a mind reader to know you wanted to be alone and so she didn’t put up a fight when you offered to close up on your own. After you closed the register and locked the front door, you ventured down to the part of the shop meant only for witches.

Your plan was just to have some quiet before venturing upstairs where Ezra would be waiting. For all you knew he was still huddled under the bed. You could abhor River but only one of you had actually hurt your familiar. You couldn’t bring yourself to face Ezra knowing you were just as bad as the rest of them.

You start opening old books. Spell books and ancient texts. You’re looking for something, what it is you can’t be certain. All you know is that you felt drawn down here, your fingers itching for the parchment pages.

When you were a young witch, you came here often. There were spell books that had become your favorites, embellished with intricate illustrations. You memorized charms for changing the color of your hair and shuffled a dog-eared set of tarot cards. This was where you cast some of your very first spells. Magic made the world feel full of wonder yet it gave you some control, an order to things that would otherwise be chaos.

That’s gone now. All of it mixed up— pride and shame, power and weakness, love and loss.

You pull a large volume from the shelf, its soft leather cover embossed with constellations. heavy and thick, You need both hands to carry it to the table where it lands with a thud and a gasp of dust escapes into the air.

You turn it open, the aged glue of its spine cracking. You run your fingers over the delicate pages, so thin you can practically see through them. They’re covered in a careful hand and you can’t help but wonder about the witches that set these spells down, what advice they’d have for you.

The magic in here is convoluted, singular spells that spill over pages and pages with diagrams and celestial calendars. Some are written in verse so dense you can barely make out their meaning. They remind you of the cadence of Ezra’s voice.

These are not small acts of witchcraft. There are instructions for summoning beasts and recipes for potions that restore youth to be brewed specially on the solstice. Some of it feels dangerous— curses against unfaithful lovers, spells to wake the dead and use them for your bidding.

You read through them all with mild curiosity. You have no reason to reanimate a dead horse or brew a cure for quinsy— whatever that is— though it would be amusing to cast a perpetual dancing spell on River if you didn’t think it would kill him.

You chuckle to yourself as you imagine him dancing uncontrollably, his limbs uncontrollable, as you turn the page. And there you see it.

What you didn’t know what you were looking for has found you.

–

You barge into the apartment with a wild look in your eye. Ezra’s still curled up in your spot on the bed. He’s been there most of the afternoon, letting bad memories flood his mind.

After the elders turned him, Ezra promised himself that he would be better. He’d been selfish and dishonest. Quick to anger. It was out of necessity, he’d told himself, but obviously it had only brought him suffering. He would change. But had he? He’d let you care for him, had loved you and fantasized about you, and he’d hurt you.

You’re calling his name, breathless from running up the stairs, with a leather bound book under your arm.

Ezra lingers in the bedroom door, guilt still festering.

“Look,” you say, setting the tome open on the little breakfast table with a thud. It seems as though you’ve forgotten everything, a whirl of urgency about you.

Ezra hops up and seats himself in front of the weathered pages. He takes in the verses there, the drawing scratched with quill and ink. It’s complicated and obscure, laborious instructions that must be followed to the letter. Behind him you’re nearly bouncing with untamed energy.

“What are you showing me?” he asks. He knows. The spell is exact but its outcome is clear.

“It’s a transfiguration spell,” you explain.

“That much is clear but—“

“I want to do it,” you say. There’s a determination in your words, a fiery assuredness that makes Ezra’s heart pick up. “I want to turn you back into a human.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No. It’s all right here. And it says under the moon of All Hallow’s Eve. That’s just in a few weeks,” you add excitedly.

“Little mage, I needn’t explain why this is folly,” he says.

It pains him to say it and not just because being human again would be the greatest gift. Your expression is a mix of frustration and heartbreak.

“You propose to defy the Elders’ judgment. They won’t take kindly to that,” he says.

“Fuck them,” you hiss. “The laws have changed. If you were convicted now, they’d take your powers but they wouldn’t make you live like this.”

“They’ll take yours if you do something so foolish,” he says. It comes out harsh but he’s angry that you’d risk your powers for him. That he wants so badly to accept.

“You don’t deserve to be a fucking cat. You should get a normal life,” you say, your body sagging onto the sofa like it can’t stand the weight of it all anymore.

“That’s quite a touching sentiment.” Ezra tries to couch the words in sarcasm but his voice breaks. He jumps down from the table and situates himself on the cushion beside you.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” you ask, defeated. Tearful eyes look towards the ceiling before falling onto him. “When they put you on trial. Why didn’t you tell the elders what he’d done?”

Ezra’s head sinks between his shoulders.

Damon was the kind of witch that only used his powers to numb himself to the rest of the world. He brewed potions that made him neglectful of his daughter one moment, belligerent towards her the next. Ezra had never considered himself a do-gooder. He saw the girl with bruises and said nothing. He was so disinterested in the goings on, he’d never even bothered to learn her name until his trial. Largely, he ignored them until the night he took Damon’s life.

Ezra hadn’t meant to engage him. It was a snide remark he made that pulled Damon’s attention away from berating Cee. Soon the two of them came to blows, Damon throwing the first punch with an accusation. Ezra was scrappy but there was a point when Damon had him pinned down and he thought his time was up. So when he was able to break free, Ezra made sure he wouldn’t be bested.

“You can’t understand how precarious it was for us then,” he says. “A hundred years of witch hunts. The life of a witch, even one as detestable as Damon was precious.”

Maybe if they’d known how Damon treated one of their kind, they would have shown Ezra leniency. But the real reason he accepted his punishment was because he knew it had been his own fault. Had he intervened earlier, gotten the Elders involved, it wouldn’t have ended in murder. You might think him a hero, but when the Elders made Ezra her familiar, Cee made it clear that she did not.

You sigh, a slight shake of your head, and you sink back into the sofa.

“You are a more than capable witch but this is ancient magic. It took the powers of no less than three elders to change me,” Ezra says as if it’s any consolation.

“Maybe Margot—“

“You’d both risk your powers,” he stops you. “No, little mage. It’s impossible.”

—

“I’m not coming,” you say.

Aunt Margot is loading a carpet bag into the trunk of her station wagon. Nearly a month has passed since the equinox. Halloween is two days away which means it’s time for your annual trip to Salem where the coven will be gathered through Samhain. The celebrations will be days long, singing and food, apple bobbing and fortune telling. Your little gathering doesn't compare.

Last night you couldn’t bring yourself to pack.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

”I’m sorry,” you say with a shrug.

You’ve been waffling on this decision for weeks but you’ve made up your mind. Even if it disappoints Aunt Margot.

”But everyone will miss you. And Simone’s making her gumbo,” she says.

”I know,” you say.

As Margot babbles out more reasons why you really shouldn’t stay home (“The spirit walk just won’t be the same without you”), Ezra snakes between your legs. You were nervous of how she’d take this news and Ezra promised to be moral support.

She throws out her hands with a pout. “I can’t stand thinking about you alone for All Hallows Eve,” she says.

“I won’t be alone,” you say, picking Ezra up and scratching under his chin.

“I will miss the gumbo,” he tells her.

“No Ezra,” she contemplates. “Maybe I can actually win at Scrabble.”

“Perchance,” he says, and you know she’s mentally tabulating the word score.

“Is this because of River?” She narrows her eyes.

It’s not. While you certainly won’t miss him, you wouldn’t let some dickwad keep you from having a good time. It’s all of them, really. Esme and the rest of them. Knowing how they think of Ezra, how they think of you, it makes you want to scream. You can’t subject him to their scorn and disdain, you won’t. You’d rather spend All Hallows Eve at home.

And then there’s that little part of you. The one that knows it’s preposterous and downright idiotic yet still hopes that you can put the Halloween moon to good use. Ezra shut that down fast but, oh, how good would it feel for the funny little witch to give them all the middle finger? .

“I’m just not in the spirit,” you say.

“Well it won’t feel like All Hallows Eve without you,” she sighs.

“I know,” you say. There’s a lump in your throat. You’ve never been apart from her for Samhain. There are countless warm memories of Halloweens past. When Margot got you your very first cauldron. The taste of pumpkin pie. The year of the freak snowstorm.

With another sigh and the jingle of her bracelets, Margot pulls you into an embrace. The smell of vetiver hangs off her hair and you breathe it in deeply.

“I’ll light a candle for you,” she promises.

“Thanks,” you say.

“And I’m going to jinx River’s socks. They’ll be damp for a month,” she says.

You laugh.

The horn of her car beeps and you break the hug to see Percy appear at the top of the steering wheel.

“He’s worried about the traffic on the Thruway,” she tells you. “I’m coming!”

“Take care of her,” she says to Ezra, petting along his jaw

He nods.

When Margot’s tail lights disappear down the street, you sit beside Ezra on the front steps.

“You could go,” he says.

“I made the right choice,” you say, stroking down the shiny fur on his back.

“So what now?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I've always wanted to go trick or treating,” you say.

“That’s blasphemy, little mage,” Ezra quips.

—

Ezra holds you in his arms. Human arms. Your skin is warm against his as you lay tangled together. The morning light catches on the prism beads you have hanging in your bedroom window, little rainbows dancing across the walls and rumpled bedspread. His lips brush across your forehead, leaving a ghost of a kiss at your hairline. You sigh dreamily and your fingertips graze his bare chest. You‘re just barely awake when you turn your face up to him, your eyes warm like you missed him while you were sleeping. He greets you with a kiss, your lips opening to him with a low hum. His fingers tangle with yours as the grasp the spindles in the headboard.

His name comes out of you in a gasp of breath.

He’s had these dreams for years but they’ve been happening almost every night since you showed him that spell. Sometimes passionate– your thighs opening as he explores your body— but just as often innocuous. Picking flowers in the meadow by his boyhood home. Bringing you tea as you read on the porch swing.

Each dream is so alluring, even the most banal, he wakes up with the words on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask you to risk it all and turn him.

You haven’t brought it up again in the weeks since you set that spellbook in front of him. Maybe you thought better of it. Maybe you were just angry. You told him about your spat with River and, while it touched him that you’d come to his defense, he knew it was an impulsive choice.

Either way, it’s for the best.

It wouldn’t end well. Of course, you’d be putting yourself at risk. He’d made that very clear to you. There are a thousand other reasons why it shouldn’t be done. He’s probably forgotten how to be human and what he would do with himself in this day and age, he has no idea. The only job experience he’s had in the past two hundred years is rat catching.

The logistics of being a human matter little to him, though. His real concern is with you.

He’ll no longer be your companion. You won’t scratch behind his ears, invite him to lay in your lap. You’ll probably expect him to move on and live the life he’s always wanted. He can’t think of one that doesn’t involve you.

At least as a cat, he never has to know if you’d choose another man over him.

He’s laying awake, pondering this once again, when your eyes crack open. Warm mid morning light pours in through the lace curtains, bathing you in a honeyed glow. With Margot out of town and the store closed, the two of you had been on your own, spending the previous dsy together. A walk in the woods, a visit to the coffee shop where other patrons greeted Ezra with friendly scritches. You bailed on plans with the mortal Connor to watch movies and snuggle Ezra on the couch. It should have been enough, that’s what he thought when the credits rolled and you were snoring on the couch, your fingers buried in his scruff. He could share a lifetime of this with you and be grateful for it. But he was greedy.

”Happy Halloween,” you say.

You pull him close and he nuzzles into your warm skin.

“You were in my dream,” you say. Your voice is still rough from sleep, still somewhere far away like you haven’t fully regained consciousness.

Ezra’s cheeks heat under his fur. It’s not just the raspiness of your throat but his shame. If only you knew what he’d been dreaming about.

“I was doing that spell. To change you,” you say.

“I would’ve hoped for something more scintillating.” He plays it off as a joke.

You huff a laugh and rest your wrist across your forehead, eyes cast towards the ceiling. “Right when you turned I woke up,” you say.

Ezra doesn’t want to admit it— that he was thinking about that very spell, that he wants your dream to be a premonition. Witches have been known to have those. No, that’s wishful thinking.

He gets to his feet and stretches out.

“What a pity you missed my face. I can’t quite remember my own countenance,” he says.

You sigh with exasperation. “I think it’s a sign,” you say.

“Our dreams are just that,” he tells you.

“Not this one. It wasn’t just a dream,” you insist. You sit up on your elbows meeting his eye with eagerness. “I can do it.”

“I told you—“

“Ezra, I want to do it,” you say with finality. “I want you to be human again.”

He grits his teeth. If he was capable of crying, he might after hearing your words, seeing that resolution in your expression. It takes all of his strength to not just give in and say yes. You know the reasons why it shouldn’t be done and he can’t tell you the ones that make him hesitant.

“You would turn me knowing how much more capable I am of violence? I might be declawed but I will be far more dangerous as man than beast.,” he asks. It still weighs on him even though it’s been weeks since the equinox and it seems you’ve all but forgotten it.

“I trust you,” you say. There’s a tenderness in your eyes that makes Ezra’s heart swell.

He knows you mean it. You shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve to be trusted, to be loved by you. He was never a good man, never stood up for anyone else. And it’s that very reason that’s had his mind in knots. He’s selfish. He wants this chance.

Maybe, maybe you’ll give him the same look as a human and he can love you back the way he’s always wanted.

“Besides, I know how to defend myself,” you say with a grin.

That’s his little mage.

“Very well,” he says. “I’m ready.”

–

You light the final candles on the oak table. The basement is illuminated by the dim glow of candles. You’ve spent the whole day down here with Ezra readying everything for the moon of All Hallows Eve.

Luckily Aunt Margot will be gone for the week so you don’t have to worry about interruptions. You’re not sure how she’ll react but right now, frankly, you don’t care. This is the right thing to do, you keep telling yourself. It’s justice. It’s not about the thrill you feel now, butterflies in your belly.

You’ve daydreamed about it and after last night’s dream, your imagination feels closer than ever There’s no good picture in your mind of what Ezra will be like but his looks aren’t important. You can’t wait to do normal things with him. What will it be like to get a coffee with Ezra? To do rituals together at Ostara. To hear his old stories again, made new by his facial expressions.

He’s quiet, nervous you’re sure, beside your cauldron. His golden eyes flit from the flames to the spellbook to the darkened window. Your excitement cools and suddenly you’re worried that your enthusiasm got the better of you. Had you pressured him into agreeing to this? He’s still your familiar after all, bound to serve you.

You kneel at the edge of the table.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to,” you say.

“As long as you’re certain you’re willing to take on the risks,” he tells you.

You nod.

“Very well,” he says.

You look at one another for a long time, both knowing that this will be the last time things are the same. You memorize everything about him, his elegant face, the whiskers beside his little black nose, the streak of white fur above his eye. This is your Ezra, will always be even if he doesn’t exist in this form. You wish you could thank him for everything he’s done for you but the words are stuck in your throat. It won’t do to start crying now when you need to focus and recite the incantation clearly.

“I love you, Ezra,” you manage.

He responds with a long, slow blink and you kiss his forehead.

The potion is murky and thick as you ladle it into a dish. Ezra recoils when you place it in front of him.

��Smells like piss,” he says with a wince before lapping it up. A shiver runs over his body, down the length of his tail. “Tastes like it.”

He leaps onto the table and settles at the center of the carved pentagram.

“Work your magic, little mage,” he says.

This is it. It’s all laid out just like your dream but you’re still anxious. There’s no room for error.

With a deep breath, you straighten your back and begin to say the words. You read them countless times throughout the day, memorizing each verse so that it can flow from your heart to your tongue. As each one leaves your mouth, you visualize them on the page. Magic begins to stir in you, a tingle beneath your skin.

Ezra lays on his belly, his eyes drifting close, paws outstretched towards you.

You shut your eyes tight and focus your energy, like a beam of pure magic directed towards him and say the words again.You think about him, really envision his details down to the hair. Memories flood you. Ezra rubbing up on the old books in the store. His soft purrs against your chest when your heart felt heavy. The time he slipped on the edge of the tub and fell into your bath. The love you feel for him radiates in your chest all the way to your fingertips.

You’re squeezing all of it palms, every drop of energy within you aimed at Ezra. A vibration, an earthquake.

You say the words a final time.

Lightheaded. Breathless. Exhausted.

Your eyes flutter open.

Ezra lays on the table just as you left him. Unchanged.

“No.” The word slips from your mouth nothing more than a whisper.

Ezra blinks, looking down at his black paws.

You see his shoulders sag and a long moment passes as he gathers himself before looking at you.

It doesn’t make sense. You did everything right, just as you’d seen in your sleep. You’ve never cast with such fervor.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing hard around a sob. “We’ll do it again. The moon will be higher.” You can hear your own desperation, voice shaking as you try not to lose faith.

Ezra slowly sits himself up.

“Maybe you need more potion,” you suggest.

“No, little mage,” he says, resigned.

“Ez–” You’ve failed him. Your chest burns, tears brim in your eyes.It feels like you might collapse from the exertion and sheer heartbreak that’s overwhelming you.

“It’s alright. I’ve been a cat for more than a few years. And so I shall remain,” he says.

🐈‍⬛

Part 4

Again, it would really make my day to hear from you if you've come this far! My asks and dms are always open!

#ezra #ezra prospect #witchy #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra x f!reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #prospect fic

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finelinevogue · 2 years ago

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birthday boy

summary - harry’s birthday party ends up with cake frosting in his hair and your eyes

warnings: twinge of sadness but like it’s barely even there tbh, swearing, kissing, lots n lots of frosting

word count: +2.3k

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

“Anyone need a top up?”

You were laughing with Glenne as she finished telling a funny story about her new intern. You couldn’t really hear what the story had been about, due to the obscene amount of noise in the room, but you laughed anyway.

“Yes please!” Glenne slurred, drunk on her birthday alcohol.

You were just as drunk, not because it was your birthday but because it was your fiancé’s birthday.

“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.

After you’d both thanked the server politely, you both returned to your conversations with each other. You’d both just needed a moment away from crowds to catch up on the evening gossip so far, so you’d come to sit on the velvet sofas in the corner of the room.

“Y/N, I have to say, you did a fabulous job on decorations this year.” Glenne cheered.

“I did?”

You looked around the room and evaluated what you had achieved. The mirrorball in the middle of the room shone a thousand diamonds down onto the dance floor, which was a black and white chessboard set up. There were fairy lights hung up around the walls. A balloon arch was in another corner of the room, where there was a rose wall behind it, for photo opportunities.

“Yeah! I love it!” Glenne looked around the room too, taking in all your hard work. “Jeff could never pull off something like this.”

It had taken you a couple of hours to set up the decorations and Harry had been all pouty that you had to leave him for so long on his birthday, but when you’d showed him what you’d been up to he fell in love with you a little bit more.

“I would’ve said neither could Harry, but something tells me he actually could.” You laughed, Glenne laughing along with you.

“Speaking of Harry… Have you two decided on a date yet?” Glenne nudged your leg with her heeled foot.

“Maybe May? I… We don’t know yet.” You sighed, shoulders slumping thinking about how you and Harry couldn’t agree on the perfect date for your wedding. “I mean, my dad can’t make any time in April, but Harry’s dad can’t make any time in June and we definitely want to be married before July, but…”

“Babe, woah, slow down. Y/N, this wedding, no matter how much you don’t want to upset anyone, is about you and Harry. It’s the one day in your life, apart from your birthday, where you get to be selfish. Take it as an opportunity to build a wedding day that you want, not anyone else.”

“Yeah you’re right.” You said so quietly not even Glenne heard.

“H’s version of a perfect wedding will be a day where you’re nothing short of perfectly happy.” Glenne shot back the rest of her champagne and placed it on the table in front of you two. “So, really, plan whatever you want.”

“Yeah” You nodded and placed your half full glass on the table too. “Alright, excuse me, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure.” She nodded and stood up herself, pulling down her short skirt and tottling off to find Jeff.

You walked past flurries of people, waving hello to people across the room who caught your eye. A lot of people you didn’t know, but Jeff had told you to send invites to because Harry and Glenne would know them. They were mainly Hollywood people that worked in the music industry, but there were a couple of faces you did know.

Gemma Chan was there and you made sure she knew you’d come and steal her away later for a catch up. Asif Ali was also there and you would have to go see him too, in order to bring some more smiles to your face.

After you’d finished in the toilets you walked back into the room to see a congregation in the middle of the room. Since you had organised the event and had no additional entertainment booked other than the live band, you were curious to see what was going on.

When you got to the back of the circle, trying to peer over the tall people at the back, you noticed Glenne sat on a chair with her back to Harry who was sat on another chair.

You could tell by the look in your fiancés eyes that he was very tipsy. His hair was messy on the top of his head from all the dancing around he had been doing this evening. He still hadn’t pulled you for a dance yet, but you two had been separated ever since you’d walked inside the venue. Harry was whisked away by Jeff to meet people, having a drink each time he came across someone new, and before you knew it he was dancing to Gloria Gaynor with the chief executive of Columbia.

You missed him.

When it came to events like these, even though it was actually his birthday, he was always so whisked up in the business side of it that you had to entertain yourself. It was never that Harry abandoned you, but you would rather not have to over-socialise. You put it down to your social anxiety and fear of social burnout.

“Now, a little surprise for my two best friends.” Jeff spoke into a microphone so he could be heard by everyone.

Some sensual music started playing and you automatically assumed that it was strippers. Your heart sunk at the thought of Harry having a gorgeous girl straddle him and perform intimate positions with him. It would be unkind of Jeff if he had planned something like that. Your heart lightened when you saw Jeff stand in front of Glenne and start pulling off his jacket sexily, before rounding to Harry’s side and wiggling his bum in Harry’s face. Harry’s drunk self slapped Jeff’s bum and everyone laughed. Even you.

Harry looked around the crowd, his eyes not pausing their movement until they met yours. The mischievous glint in his eyes made you wonder what he was thinking. No doubt it was something to do with wanting you as his lap dance, rather than Jeff. Jeff was doing a good job though, making everyone laugh and making his wife embarrassed that she ever married him. Luckily everyone was too drunk to care.

After Jeff buttoned his shirt back up and put his jacket on, he was handed back the microphone, nodded at you and you knew that was your queue to go and get the cake. They were sharing a cake, as they often did, so you picked it up from the kitchen with its candles and sparklers in before carrying it back carefully.

When you returned to the room, the lights went dim and the birthday tune started to play. People made way for you to squeeze through the crowd as you walked towards the birthday kids.

You smiled when Harry’s gaze caught yours. He mouthed ‘wow’ at you, but you knew he wasn’t saying it about the cake. As you stopped short in front of both Glenne and Harry, they stood together whilst people finished the song. You sang out too, looking at Harry the entire time and watched his smile remain constant as he watched you sing out.

The cake was heavy and Harry must have noticed because he picked up the side closest to him and took the weight off you slightly. As the song finished Harry and Glenne both shared the job of blowing out the candles.

Jeff helped take off the candles and sparkler to clear the cake so it was just a plain cake remaining. Harry took the opportunity to try and smash Glenne’s face into the cake, but she restrained enough to resist the force of his hand. Harry wasn’t paying attention to Jeff though and missed him coming behind him and pushed his head down into the cake, until it was too late. The side of his face and a loose curl of hair got caught up in the frosting and people cheered as he made a mess of his face.

You laughed as he stood back up and licked the frosting from the corner of his mouth, as if that was all there was to clean up. You stood still holding the cake and looking at Harry with endearment. He looked so soft and cuddly, and maybe a little delicious too.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry asked, as he lifted the strand of hair back onto his head even when it was still full of vanilla frosting.

You shook your head and laughed at him, knowing he would be a mess to clean up later. It wasn’t a second later after that thought that Harry used his own hand to push your face into the cake this time. He also pulled your head back, using your hair, so you didn’t suffocate inside the sponge. You managed to get more on your face, looking like you were wearing a face mask. So much so you couldn’t open your eyes.

“Fucking dickhead.” You muttered, but it turned into a chuckle because you were drunk and didn’t care.

Harry must have asked someone else to get a hand on the cake so it wasn’t your responsibility anymore. It wasn’t like it was very edible to anyone, considering it now had to face impressions in it.

You felt Harry take your hands, your eyes still closed from the frosting, and you could feel him guiding you through the crowds of people. His hands were warm and even though you couldn’t see whether it was him that was leading you off, you could feel it in your hands that it was Harry.

No one else's hands felt like home other than his.

His hands cupped perfectly in yours and you tailed him like a bind and lovesick puppy. His polite excuses to get through the crowd made him feel closer to you also, his voice so comforting.

When the crowd noise disappeared you assumed you must have been in a quieter room now.

“Harry where are…”

You couldn’t ask him more than that because his lips were on yours. And they were his because no one else's lips felt like home other than his. They were perfect against yours, moving over yours with such delicate precision that only came with knowing how best to kiss you. Harry knew exactly how you liked to be kissed and he was doing everything you wanted. His hands were even cupped in the right places under your jaw.

“You taste like frosting.” He chuckled.

You laughed with him, probably looking silly with frosting in your eyes. Harry had frosting in his hair though and there was no one that you’d rather be in this situation in rather than him.

“Happy birthday, H.”

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You felt Harry’s fingers wipe carefully over your eyes and relieve them of frosting. You opened your eyes carefully to watch Harry lick the frosting off his fingers with his tongue. He then brought his other finger to your lips to allow you to lick it clean, which he watched with beady eyes as you did.

“Good frosting.” You hummed in delight, knowing you had made the right call with the vanilla, not strawberry, frosting.

“Mm. Tasted better off your face.”

You laughed, hitting him softly over his ribs, “Oh, stop it you.”

“Never.” He shook his head and smiled at how he managed to make you laugh.

“I hope you had a good night tonight.”

Harry had looked like he had had a good night, but you could never be too sure until you asked him. He was very good at putting on a front, especially in show business , but with you he was nothing but honest.

“I loved it, baby, I really did. Just wish I got to spend more time with you. I mean, I love my friends and, y’know, all of them other people… but they’re not you.”

You pouted, somehow wishing you could’ve spent more time with him. You tried your hardest to finish all the decorations as quickly as possible, but you were a perfectionist so it did take longer than originally planned. As for the party itself, you couldn’t stop him from talking to people, no matter how badly you did want him all to yourself.

“Sorry.”

“No, baby, there’s nothing you need to be sorry for. Just one of those things, where too many people want my attention and yet I only want yours.” He shrugged his shoulders and he made you smile.

“You always have my attention.” You promised him, cupping his cheek softly.

“And I’ll try to give you more of mine this year. In fact, come my next birthday you’ll be sick of me.” He chuckled and stepped closer to you, not liking the 10cm of space between you.

“Could never get sick of you, H. Never.”

“Feelings mutual, lovie.”

He leant down to kiss you again, kissing your bottom lip with his and sucking on it lightly. His lips grounded you and reminded you that he was right here and he was all yours. You kissed back with force, wanting to show how much you really did love him, pushing into his lips with your own.

A minute later and your lips both raw from such loving kissing, you gave each other one last peck.

“More of that later, baby. For now, let’s go the chippy? I’m fucking starving.” Harry whined.

“Alright, birthday boy, let’s go.” And the rest of the evening was filled with chips, gravy and lots and lots of love.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles birthday #harry styles 29 birthday #fic rec harry styles #masterlist finelinevogue #harry styles fluff

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beautification-tales · 8 months ago

Text

The Lesson

A prequel to “The Video”

April sat cross-legged on her bed, the flickering light from her computer casting eerie shadows across the walls. The serum she had perfected was in a small vial on her desk, its contents swirling lazily as if it were alive. Her heart raced with excitement and anticipation, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out to touch the vial. This was it, the moment she had been working towards for months. The moment she would finally find out if her serum worked as she hoped it would.

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before unscrewing the cap of the vial. The sharp smell of chemicals filled her nose, making her eyes water slightly. Carefully, she drew a small amount of the serum into the syringe and brought the needle close to her skin. “Here we go” she whispered to herself, summoning all the courage she could muster. She plunged the needle into her arm, feeling the cool liquid seep into her veins.

For a moment, nothing happened. April sat there, breath held, waiting for something, anything to change. But the seconds ticked by, and her heart continued to beat at its steady rhythm. She glanced down at her arm, expecting to see some sort of transformation, but it looked exactly the same as before. She ran to the bathroom as she looked in the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, unchanged. Her heart sank as she realized that the serum hadn't worked. She had failed.

“Argh you’re such a loser April. You never get anything right.” Her inner critic was relentless, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of despair. But as she stood there, staring at herself in the mirror, she noticed something strange. The color of her eyes seemed different. Not lighter or darker, but...richer. Like they had always held that depth but had been obscured before. She stepped closer, studying her reflection intently.

“Yes! It’s working! I’m a genius. Dr. Brown is going to be so impressed.” April’s brown hair turned platinum as she imagined telling her favorite Professor of her success. He would smile and kiss her before pushing her against a wall and fuck her.

April frowned at the idea and shook her head trying to remove the image from her mind. The more she tried to think of something else the more vivid the images became. April’s body responded to the thoughts as she bit her lip. “W..wait no this is wrong. Ungh get out of my head!”

The images stopped for a moment as a voice whispered in her head. “But it’s what you want and now you can have it.” April could feel herself get wet as her nipples hardened poking through her shirt. “No, stop it. I just wanted his respect… and his cock.” April covered her mouth in shock at how sultry the last statement sounded. It was not her voice. The voice in her head grew louder. “Stop fighting this there’s nothing holding you back. You don’t have to be that pathetic nerd. You can be more! You can feel more” April’s hand moved like it had a life of its own rubbing her jeans as her hips gyrated.

“Mmm what am I? What am I doing? Feels so good” April’s eyes fluttered as she lost control feeling woozy. April’s vision corrected as she no longer needed her glasses as her vision became blurry behind the thick lenses. April in a trance opened her jeans as she plunged her fingers deeply inside her. She felt hot as she gasped and heard the voice again. “Dr. Brown is going to love the new you. He won’t be able to resist.” April’s fingers picked up speed as her flat butt ballooned in her jeans. Her flesh dug into the denim as her thighs got thicker and her hips widened.

April’s moans became throaty and sexier as her face shifted. Cheekbones rose, her nose softened, and her lips plumped. April arched her back as the changes began to reach their end. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” April’s breast grew bigger as they began to make her t shirt rip down the middle. The sound of ripping and moans echoed in her apartment as her niples hardened into two perfect pebbles. “I’m gonna Hhhhahh!” She grunted as the orgasm rocked throughout her body. She felt energized as she got up and looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m gonna fuck my professor mmmm fuck! It feels so good to say it out loud.”

April walked over to her desk and grabbed the note she had written to Dr. Brown. She crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash can. She smiled seductively as she put on her new outfit. A black bra and panties set that perfectly accentuated her new curves. She ran her hands over her body, feeling the smooth skin and the weight of her breasts in her hands. She finished getting dressed in the least modest outfit she owned.

With a confident swagger, April left her apartment and made her way to the university. She couldn't help but feel a sense of power and desire coursing through her veins. Every step she took was a reminder of the changes she had undergone. Her hips swayed subtly, her breasts bounced with each step, and her new scent filled the air around her.

When she arrived at Dr. Brown's office, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous, but also incredibly aroused. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, her heart racing in anticipation. The door opened, revealing Dr. Brown's familiar face, but she barely registered it as her gaze was drawn to his own obvious arousal. Dustin had seen beautiful students before but the way the pencil skirt and blouse hugged her skin. It was almost as the clothes were too small but still looked so good.

“Ahem yes! May I help you… Miss?” Dustin Brown said, his voice slightly shaky. He cleared his throat and tried to maintain his composure as he took in the sight of the stunning woman standing before him. Her eyes were locked on him, her expression a mix of confidence and desire that was both unsettling and intoxicating.

April smiled seductively, walking into the office. She closed the door behind her, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. "Dr. Brown, I wanted to speak with you about my latest paper." Her voice was soft and sultry, barely above a whisper. It sent shivers down his spine. "But I think there's something else we should discuss first." She stepped closer, her hips swaying as she moved.

Dustin Brown felt himself growing harder as she approached. He couldn't take his eyes off her. "Miss... I'm sorry, but I don’t recall seeing you in any of my classes." He tried to sound firm, but his voice betrayed him. It came out as a whisper, barely audible.

April laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, I'm not one of your students, Dr. Brown. I'm Pepper. I am a biologist with my research focusing on one thing." She moved even closer, until she was just inches away from him. Dustin could feel the heat emanating from her body, could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. His control was slipping fast.

"What... what is your focus ?" He managed to stammer. His heart was racing, his mind reeling from the sensual onslaught. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

Pepper smiled, running her hands up his chest, stopping just above his shoulders. "My focus, Dr. Brown, is on transformation. On changing. On becoming something new and exciting." Her fingers danced along his shoulders, sending shivers down his spine. "And I've been wanting to change you for quite some time now." She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "I want to make you into something that's been aching to get out of you."

Dustin's breath hitched as he felt her body against his, her breasts pressing into his chest. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her even closer. "What do you mean?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

She smiled, her lips curving into a wicked grin. "Oh, Dr. Brown, you know exactly what I mean." She stepped back placing a hand on his crotch. "I've been watching you, you know. Seeing the way you look at your students, the way you fantasize about them." Her hand moved, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, revealing the defined muscles of his chest. "I want to give you what you've been wanting.. it’s time for you to be bad.”

As she spoke, her fingers moved with a practiced ease, undoing his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. His skin gleamed in the soft light of the office, and she felt her mouth water. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest as she reached around, unfastening his slacks. "You're such a good boy, Dr. Brown. But I'm going to make you naughty." Her breath fanned across his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

With practiced efficiency, she stripped him bare, revealing his hardened length. She took him in her hand, stroking him gently, feeling the heat and strength of him in her palm. "You've been holding yourself back… it’s time to let it all go." Her words sent a thrill of excitement through him.

Dustin felt himself growing even harder as she continued to stroke him, her touch both gentle and possessive. He could feel the blood rushing to his groin, his breath coming faster and faster. "P-Pepper," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark and smoldering. "That's right, Dustin. I’m your dreams come true. A bad girl who just wants your cock." She leaned forward, taking his aching length into her mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and she began to bob her head, sucking him deeper. He cried out, his hips bucking forward as he lost control.

Her head went up and down vigorously as she sucked. Her tongue and lips wrapped around his member expertly as Dustin’s head tilted back. His hands found their way into her hair, gripping tightly. He could feel the heat from her mouth and the softness of her lips as they slid up and down his length. He arched his back, pressing deeper into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, and he knew he was close.

"That's it, Dustin. Let go. Let me take you there." She whispered, her breath hot against his skin. He could feel his control slipping further and further away as she continued to suck him, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony. His hips bucked wildly, his body tensed, and he cried out her name as he came, spurting hot cum into her mouth.

She took him all the way, swallowing every last drop, before pulling back to look up at him. His chest heaved, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to catch his breath. "That's it, Dustin. You're such a good teacher, but I'm going to help you be bad. Really bad." She smiled, running her fingers along his still-hard length. "I think you're going to like it."

#beautification #transformation #breast expansion #f2f transformation #origin stories #ass expansion #slutification #beauty is power

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chimielie · 1 year ago

Text

wonderland

summary: didn’t they tell us ‘don’t rush into things?’ didn’t you flash your green eyes at me? haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds? (or: what happens after graduation to a pair of teenagers in love)

word count: 1k

cw: irresponsible decision making (but i assure you there will be no consequences), The Teenage Need To Get The Fuck Out Of Your Hometown, mountains of fluff, my usual Thing iykyk, excessive 1989-related puns

hajime’s never considered himself an impulsive person.

sure, he’s: headstrong, audacious, hotheaded. but he almost always has oikawa spearheading his more reckless decisions with wild emotional situations, a shield that makes him look like a calm, responsible adult. oikawa could make almost anyone look sane.

hajime is pretty sure even oikawa would call him crazy right now, if oikawa weren’t in argentina. maybe, for all his turbulent nature, his friend really is some grounding force; since he’s been gone, hajime’s felt on the precipice of something… big. earth-shattering.

“i just can’t stand it,” you say, head lolled back onto his shoulder, spine curving into his chest. hajime is trying valiantly to ignore the soft weight of your ass on his lap, even though you’re mostly sitting between his applesauce-crossed legs. he can feel it, though, against his right thigh. he is failing miserably. “it feels like everyone’s moving and i’m… stuck.”

“stuck,” he echoes, and you roll your head so you’re looking right, out of his bedroom window at the familiar landscape of miyagi. the sun is close to setting, having burned through the daytime clouds and casting a brilliant glow over you. your lips look darker and fuller and more kissable in this light, he’d thought earlier, right before he’d kissed them bruised.

“more like a balloon,” you muse. “on a still day. just drifting up, and up, and up, and the birds are just flying by.”

he hums, deep in his chest, in agreement. something’s felt wrong ever since graduation. you and he had stayed, and it had been what you both wanted at first.

but not like this.

miyagi without oikawa, without makki, who was rooming with mattsun in the city while the latter earned his junior degree and the former chased youtube fame, wasn’t what he’d thought it would be at all.

“it’s gonna be all ours,” you’d promised him, graduation cap tilted jauntily and smile brighter than the pure white clouds drifting above. “you’re all i need, hajime.”

but miyagi without the people you’d grown up with was empty, a melody that only echoed memories. it was you and him—and the ghosts of your childhoods.

“you’re not happy here,” he says. not a question.

you twist to look at him, eyes open wide. “i’m happy with you. i didn’t mean—”

“i know,” he says, kissing your pursed, worried mouth. “but we’re not happy here. i feel it too. maybe i’m crazy, but i think we need—”

“change!” you’re sitting straighter in his lap now. “every day is the same. i’m starting to feel like i need to do something insane. i need enrichment in my enclosure.”

he puts his arms around you and you draw yourself tighter into him until you’re cheek to cheek.

“do you trust me?” he says. you snort.

“what is this, haji, aladdin?”

“yes,” he says, rolling his eyes. in this light, they’re a forest, green and deep and irresistibly inviting to you. “do you trust me, princess?”

you nod, and he feels it against him, your skin rasping together. “of course. take me to wonderland.”

“that’s corny, too,” hajime grumbles. “don’t criticize my romantic gestures then reference the wrong movie.”

“whatever,” you brush him off. “how much do we need to pack?”

that’s how the sun sets on your last night in miyagi.

hayakawa tomoka’s job at the ticket counter is so boring. she sits there all night—during the day, she studies fine art—, a magazine propped up in front of her, arching high brows at anyone who hadn’t had the forethought to buy tickets online.

she does so now at the young couple skidding to a stop in front of her, suitcases bulging even if there’s only one each, panting for breath and knocking shoulders as though even their bodies are on a gravitational course to each other. they can’t be more than twenty.

“when’s your next flight to california?” one asks, his straight hair sticking up like a hedgehog.

“…where in california?” hayakawa asks, pointing her mouth at them. “it’s a big state.”

“anywhere,” the other says. “we’ll find our way to where we need to be.”

hayakawa blinks slowly at them. these new romantics are too exhausting to deal with at this hour. she types, click-click-click, wrinkling her forehead at the blue glow of her computer.

you stare anxiously at her as she does, desperately hoping for anything in the next day.

hajime tugs you into him as you wait, and you relax, turning a closed-eye smile up at him while he looks down on you with a mirrored expression.

“too impulsive for you yet?” he says, mouth twisting wryly. you shake your head.

“there’s one to santa ana,” hayakawa says. “the south. in five hours.”

“perfect,” you say eagerly.

“thank you,” hajime says.

there are two seats free next to each other, serendipitously. ticket prices are exorbitant, but not bank-breaking—both of you had worked all of high school at the café next door, earning good tips and waiting for something worth spending it on.

“okay,” hayakawa says finally. “your flight’s set, mr. and mrs. iwaizumi. safe travels.”

“thank you,” you say effusively, “so much.”

“you too,” says hajime, and then turns very red.

hayakawa watches you go, a rare and soft smile gracing her features as your suitcases crash into each other even as both of you refuse to let go of the other’s hand to control their direction. the night shift is boring. something like this shakes things up.

after a race—more like a marathon—through customs, hajime finds himself shifting in a plastic seat, peering through the blackness of the night for a glimpse of airplanes landing. falling stars, sort of, magic to be wished on. you breathe evenly, deeply asleep with your head on his shoulder, his denim jacket wrapped around you, leaving him with just his hoodie and the new band of cheap jewelry around his fourth finger.

his mother would flip if she knew how rushed his wedding was. next time, he promises himself, he’ll do it again with you if you’ll keep having him and the ceremony will be beyond your wildest dreams.

it’s colder than he thought it would be in the airport. the earth is moving under his feet.

you’re all he needs; he’s gonna give you the world.

#tbh i usually write hajime w brown eyes even though theyre green in the show im pretty sure. but it had to be done 😏#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi my beloved my husband loml etc etc #iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #what if… i made this a snippet series. like their life as they figure it out as a couple married way too young navigating a new world #step one of the journey to irvine

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bellaireland1981 · 1 year ago

Text

Starting Over | 11

Summary: You come home to work to find your husband of three years in bed with your supposed best friend. It’s the wake up call you finally needed to take your two year old daughter and get the hell out of Texas. With nowhere to go you head to your big brother in San Diego. The Dagger squad takes you under their wings, and shows you what having a family means. You get a fresh start… will you find your happily ever after?

Characters: Jake “hangman” Seresin x Sister! Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader (Eventually), Hangman x Phoenix , Adorable OC Gracie! The Dagger squad

Word Count: 7201

Warnings: Angst, fighting, cheating husband, emotional abuse, eventual fluff, SMUT, Sweet uncle Jake, Adorable Rooster with a toddler… if I miss any please let me know. MINORS DNI

A/N: I don’t own the characters or storyline for Top Gun Maverick. All OC’s are mine. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO COPY OR REPOST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM! DON’T STEAL! Reblogs, likes and comments ALWAYS welcomed. THANK YOU @waywardodysseys and @beyondthesefourwalls as always for reading over my work and helping me flush out ideas!!

Taglist is open! If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please fill out this GOOGLE FORM to be added. It’s getting to hard to keep track of asks.

CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 CH 10

Friday night the squad all descended upon Penny and Mav’s house for dinner and to start to decorate for Gracie’s party. The bounce castle was delivered and of course the overgrown children needed to test it out. Thankfully it didn't result in any injuries. You knew a few of the kids from Gracie’s daycare would be at that party, apart from that it would mostly just be adults at the party. You knew Gracie didn’t care as long as she had her people there.

Nat, Penny and you were busy inflating balloons to create the balloon arch that Nat had insisted on from the party store, while Bradley and Jake kept Gracie busy in the bounce house out back.

“Nat, remind me not to listen to you when it comes to decoration ideas again.” You complained after tying off what felt like the millionth tiny balloon. “My fingers are going to be numb for the rest of my life.”

“But it’s so PRETTY!” She insisted, “It’ll be worth it! You’ll see!”

“Maybe next time we just order the damn arch and have someone ELSE build it?” Penny suggested.

What felt like hours later, but was really only about 45 minutes, all of the balloons were inflated and just needed to be assembled into the arch. Once it was all put together, you called the guys in to hang it up.

Once finished, it looked like the entrance to a castle, and you had to admit, it looked amazing.

“Ok, I admit it…. It’s badass.” You said, “Good call, Nat.”

“SEE?” She exclaimed, “I TOLD YOU!”

“You doubted my girl, Tulip?” Jake asked, coming over to stand with you all as you admired the arch.

“Not doubted so much as hated having to inflate and tie the millions of balloons required to create this arch.” You defended.

“It’s beautiful, Sweets.” Jake said, wrapping his arm around Phoenix, “It’s just what our Princess G needs.”

“Thanks, Babe.” She smiled, leaning back to kiss him, “Anything for that girl. But Y/N is right, those balloons were a pain in the ass.”

“Mommy! Papa Mav gave me WINGS!” Gracie said running into the house, “Now I fwy wif Daddy and Unco Jakey!”

“Uh oh.” You said, smiling, “I’m not sure the Navy is ready for that just yet Gracie Girl.”

“You wanna fly with us, Princess?” Bradley asked, scooping her up into his arms. “Daddy and Uncle Jakey can take you flying anytime you want to.”

“YES PWEASE!” She exclaimed, “Mommy! I go fwy wif my daddy and Unco Jakey now!”

“I don’t know if they can take you right this very minute, Sweet girl, but I’m sure they’ll have you in a plane as soon as they possibly can.” You laughed, “And I have no doubt that Papa Mav will help them make that happen.”

“Absolutely!” Mav said, beaming proudly. “We can get her in the skies this weekend!”

“All I ask is that we wait until she’s at least in kindergarten before anyone takes my baby supersonic.” You requested, rolling your eyes. You had zero doubts that if it were at all possible one of them would figure out a way to sneak her into one of the Super Hornets.

“That seems like a reasonable request.” Penny laughed, “And sadly, one that you had to actually spell out with these three.”

“That’s what I figured.” You said, laughing. “Covering all the bases here.”

“I’ll supervise.” Phoenix offered.

“Something tells me you’d be just as bad as them in that situation.” You laughed.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, winking.

“We’ll save the Super Hornets and crazy pilot stuff until she’s at least in Kindergarten.” Bradley promised, “For now, we can take her up in something a little safer. I have no doubt she’ll take to the skies though.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You sighed, “I won’t be able to keep any of your feet planted on solid ground afterwards.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” Bradley said, kissing your forehead, “We’ll always fly right back to you.”

“You better.” You replied, tipping your head back to smile at him, claiming a kiss in the process.

“Alright, decorations are officially complete.” Penny said, “Let’s eat some dinner. A certain little Princess needs extra sleep to be ready for her big day tomorrow!”

Mav and Penny had ordered lots of pizza for the squad that night so that nobody was cooking on top of having to decorate and set up for the party.

Once everyone had plates piled with pizza and drinks of choice they made their way to the back yard, settling into the chairs already set up for the party.

“Daddy, I sit wif you.” Gracie said, climbing into Bradley’s lap.

“Absolutely you can sit with me, my sweet Princess.” He replied, beaming at her.

“I’ve officially been replaced.” Jake pouted, sitting down next to them and placing his plate on the table. “I’m washed up fish guts in yesterday’s newspaper.”

“Wow.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Dramatic much?”

“Stop pouting, Hangy.” Bradley teased, “Gracie, you still love Uncle Jakey, right?”

“Yup!” She agreed with a mouth full of pizza, “I wuv you Unco Jakey!”

“See? You big baby, she still loves you.” Phoenix said, sitting next to Jake, “Not let Rooster enjoy the fact that he now has a Daddy’s girl and stop being a brat.” She leaned in to kiss Jake’s cheek, before winking at Bradley and digging into her own pizza.

“I love you too, Princess G.” Jake said, smiling at his niece, then looked at Phoenix, “Are you staying at the house tonight?”

“Most of my stuff is already packed in boxes so I planned on just spending most nights there now.” She replied.

“Good.” Jake said, leaning over to drop a kiss on her temple, “I like it better when you’re there.”

“Me too.” She said, smiling softly at him. “We have to leave early tomorrow to have time to stop to get the last part of Gracie’s present.”

“You both spoil her too much!” You groaned

“No such thing.” Jake said, “It’s not possible to spoil our Princess G.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed, knowing you would never win this argument.

“Daddy, how many more sleeps til Mommy and me live wif you?” Gracie asked Bradley.

“One more week, Baby Girl.” He replied, “This time next week, we will be moving you and Mommy into our house. That’s 7 sleeps.”

“Too many sleeps.” She pouted, giving him her best sad puppy eyes. “This many sleeps?” She held up 3 fingers.

“Already a negotiator.” Mav laughed, “You all are in trouble.”

“And the puppy eyes…” Coyote added, “Who can resist those? I’d be giving that baby anything she wants!”

“Gracie, we have to wait until next weekend because it’s a lot of work and hard to move.” You tried to reason with her, “We have to wait for another weekend when Mommy and Daddy don’t work. We wanted this weekend to be just for your birthday.”

“But I wanna live wif Daddy.” She said, laying her head on Bradley’s shoulder.

“Between all of us, we could get you moved over there in no time” Coyote offered, “It’s not like it’s an entire house of stuff, and you’ve fed us so often it would be the least we could do. That way our cutie pie Princess gets to live with her Daddy way sooner than 7 sleeps. No weekend needed.”

“That’s a good plan. I’m free whenever you need help.” Bob said.

“I can watch Gracie here to make it easier too if that helps.” Amelia offered.

“What do you say, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, smiling at you, “Feel like moving in sooner?”

“If everyone is absolutely sure they want to help, I’ll happily accept.” You smiled.

“Ok, Baby Girl” Bradley said, “Tomorrow, we’ll have your party, then on Sunday we will pack and if everyone is available Monday after work… we will move you and Mommy in with me. So that’s 3 sleeps!”

“YAY!” She exclaimed, “I wuv you, Daddy!”

“I love you too.” He replied, smiling, “Jump down and give hugs to all your uncles and aunt too. They’re the ones that are making this happen!”

Gracie jumped down and made her way around to everyone giving them hugs and kisses.

“While we’ve got all the muscle, can we knock out two moves?” You asked, “We’ll order dinner for everyone that night and next Friday night we’ll have everyone over and I’ll cook. Just figured we could orchestrate a two for one deal…get Nat moved in while we move out?”

“I can wait until the weekend, it’s ok!” Phoenix insisted, not wanting to make more work for people.

“It’s absolutely no problem!” Bob said, “We can split the squad…divide and conquer!”

“No sweat, it’ll be easy.” Coyote said, smiling, “We’ve got you!”

“Guys, it’s really ok…” Phoenix said.

“Nope, it’s a done deal.” Fanboy said, “We’re moving Y/N and Gracie to Rooster’s and Phoenix to Hangman’s. Next topic… Gracie, I hear there’s a Disneyland trip in the future… I think that needs to happen soon, don’t you?”

“YES!” She agreed, “You come too?”

“Of course, I’ll come!” He said, “I think we should get everyone to come, just like when we went to the zoo, that would be fun! Maybe this time we can get Papa Mav and Penny to come?”

“Now, wait…” Mav started to stay.

“PAPA MAV!” Gracie exclaimed, running over to him, “You go to Disney wif me and Mommy and Daddy and Unco Jakey and Aunty Nix and EVERYBODY?”

“Now, how can you say ‘no’ to that?” Penny asked, laughing, “He would love to go with you, Sweet Girl.”

“I guess you’re going to Disneyland, Mav.” Bradley laughed.

“Dagger trip to Disneyland!” Jake said, “I’m just glad we’ll have a lot more supervision than just the two of us now. More hands on deck is always better.”

“More supervision is always the answer when you two are involved.” Phoenix agreed.

“I can’t even argue with that.” Jake shrugged, flashing her a smile.

“Nope. That’s accurate.” Bradley agreed.

“I’d say the whole squad needs adult supervision, but honestly, they put Pete in charge of them…”, Penny laughed, “So, not really sure what the Navy was thinking there.”

“Mav’s in charge of us, but Simpson is tasked with supervising him.” Phoenix reasoned, “I think they assume that it’ll balance out.”

“I think they knew exactly what they were doing when they put all of you together.” You said, “You all fit perfectly. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses but they all compliment each other…if that makes sense. I wasn’t here in the beginning and from what I’ve heard it may not have been as well oiled as it is now, but I’d bet even then, even if it wasn’t as smooth you all worked well together.”

“You’re absolutely correct, Y/N.” Mav said, “Even at their worst, when they couldn’t see past their own noses, they complimented one another in their skills. The higher ups definitely knew what they were doing assembling this group, and were smart enough to keep them together.”

“Aww, Mav.” Jake said, “You really DO love us!”

“Of course he does, he’s adopted us all, hasn’t he?” Payback teased, “He now has 6 kids.”

“I don’t recall signing any papers or taking responsibility for any of you.” Mav laughed, “Well, except for Bradley… I signed up for that one.”

“Sorry guys, guess I’m the only one that’s been adopted.” Bradley laughed. You were glad he’d been able to rebuild his relationship with his godfather. You knew the history and that it was still a work in progress, but that they were working hard towards the bond they’d once had.

“Since Rooster is with my sister that makes him my family so that means you have to adopt me now by default.” Jake reasoned to Mav.

“You know, his logic does sort of make sense.” Bradley agreed, looking at Mav.

“If Rooster and Hangman agree on something it MUST be true.” Bob added.

“If Bob backs it, then it’s 100% fact.” Phoenix said.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself at least 2 adoptees, might as well make it 6.” Penny laughed.

“Since you are I are together now, Honey, that makes them yours too.” Mav smirked.

“Penny’s been mothering us since we got to North Island, Mav.” Fanboy said, “She adopted us willingly.”

“Can’t help it, you all were a hopeless lot. You needed mothering.” Penny replied, winking at him.

“So it’s official, we’ve been adopted.” Jake said, “Next order of business, when’s our Disney trip?”

“Barring any surprise missions or pop up training exercises we can probably schedule it for next weekend since we won’t be needing it to move anyone now. We can book a few hotel rooms or look at renting out a house for the weekend.”

“What do you think, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, looking at you, “Family trip to Disney next weekend?”

“If everyone is free, I know a certain Princess would love to spend the weekend at Disneyland.” You agreed.

“We’re in.” Jake said, looking at Phoenix to confirm, she smiled nodding back at him.

“I’m definitely in!” Fanboy said, “Not missing this for the world.”

“I’m free and it sounds fun.” Bob said.

“I’m game. I might see if my sister wants to meet us there with her kids too.” Payback said.

“That would be perfect.” You replied, “More kids for Gracie to interact with.”

“Then it’s set, Dagger family trip to Disney next weekend.” Penny said, “I’ll get Kenny to cover the bar and call in some of my extra standbys.”

“Here that, Princess G?” Jake said, lifting Gracie into his lap, “We’re going to Disneyland next weekend!”

“DISNEY?” She exclaimed, “YES!”

“Our favorite Princess needs to meet the rest of the Princesses.” Phoenix said, “You’ll still be our favorite though.”

“Absolutely” Bradley agreed, “None of those Princesses are better than our sweet Princess.”

“Alright, time to get this princess home to bed so she’s rested for her big party tomorrow.” You said, “We’ll plan on being here early to help get all the food and everything set up, Penny.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sweetie.” She assured you, “We’ve got it handled. Just enjoy the morning with your little girl. No rushing around.”

“Thank you again for letting us crash your backyard.” You said.

“We were more than happy to have the party here.” Penny said, “No thanks needed.”

After saying goodnight and giving hugs, you and Bradley made your way to the Bronco, getting Gracie secured in her car seat. By the time you arrived home, she was already asleep, having worn herself out bouncing in the bounce castle. Bradley carried her into her room and tucked her into bed after carefully pulling her shoes off. You decided letting her sleep in her clothes one night wouldn’t hurt anything.

Jake and Phoenix arrived home shortly after. You and Bradley were wrapping some of Gracie’s presents when they came in.

“And we’re the ones that spoil her?” Jake asked, taking in the array of presents being wrapped.

“Ok so, we may have gone overboard.” You acknowledged, “But in my defense, this is her first real birthday party… the first year we’ve got people making a big fuss over her.”

“I understand.” Jake said, coming over and pulling you into a hug, “And it’s not like we ever had steller birthdays, so I get you wanting to make them amazing for Gracie.”

“I do.” You replied, “I want her to have everything we didn’t.”

“Just promise me you’ll remember that tomorrow…” Jake said, pulling away and flashing you his dimpled grin. “I’m just making sure she has the kinda birthdays we never had.”

“Jacob Seresin, what did you do?” You asked, knowing now he was definitely up to something.

“It’s a surprise.” He said, “But Gracie is going to LOVE it and that is all that matters.”

“Nat… you had ONE job.” You groaned, shaking your head, “You were supposed to keep him reigned in…”

“Yeah… about that.” She laughed, “Problem is… there was nobody to reign ME in?”

“I need to remember to send Admiral Simpson the biggest package of cookies and treats with an “I’m sorry” and “Thank you” card for dealing with all of you.” You said, shaking your head, “Seriously, the man has earned a bonus…or an early retirement… surely some fancy medal…”

“I love you, Tulip.” Jake said, cheekily, “You know you love me too. I’m your favorite big brother!”

“I do love you, you idiot.” You laughed, “You’re my ONLY big brother.”

“I just want to point out that I had nothing to do with this surprise.” Bradley said, smirking, “So, I’m not in the doghouse over this one. Sorry, Jake. Other surprises, I will fully admit to having a hand in.”

“What other surprises?” You asked, suddenly nervous.

“Look at the time, it’s getting really late.” Bradley said, changing the subject, “We should really get to bed. We promised Gracie chocolate chip pancakes for her birthday breakfast, she’ll be up early for those.”

“Definitely, it's gonna be an early start tomorrow.” Jake agreed, “We’ll be here for her birthday breakfast, but then have to go take care of the rest of her present, so we’ll meet you at Penny and Mav’s after to help with the rest of the setup.”

“OK, I’m just going to roll with it.” You decided, sighing. “I trust that whatever this surprise is will be something she’ll love and will be absolutely Uncle Jake coded, meaning chaotic.”

“There’s the spirit!” Phoenix laughed, “You’re not wrong either.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you both in the morning.” You laughed, “I love you both. Goodnight.”

“Love you too.” Jake smiled, kissing your head and hugging you. “Goodnight.”

***

The next morning Gracie was up with the sun, excited for her birthday. Before you even had a chance to wake up or think about starting her pancakes, she was bursting into your room and climbing on your bed with you and Bradley.

“Mommy! Daddy!” She exclaimed, “It’s my BIRFDAY!” I’m FREE!!”

“Are you sure?” Bradley groaned, pulling her down in between the two of you, “I dunno if the sun is even awake yet, Princess.”

“It is, Daddy!” She promised, “WAKE UP!”

“Happy Birthday, my sweet Gracie Girl.” You said, opening your eyes and pulling her to you into a hug. “I love you baby girl.”

“I wuv you too Mommy!” She said, snuggling into the hug for a moment before flipping around to Bradley.

“Daddy!” She yelled, making sure he was indeed awake.

“I’m awake, Princess.” He laughed, “Happy Birthday, Baby Girl. Come give me BIG BIG hugs.”

She launched herself across into his arms, immediately snuggling into his embrace.

“I love you, Gracie.” He told her, “I’m so lucky I get to be your Daddy and spend your birthdays with you now.”

“I wuv you too, Daddy.” She replied, “You’re my best Daddy!”

“You’re my best Princess!” He replied, kissing her head and launching a tickle attack.

A while later and after some caffeine, you’re plating chocolate chip pancakes for the birthday girl, as Bradley is getting milk poured into her sippy cup.

“Happy BIRTHDAY Princess G!” Jake exclaimed, coming into the kitchen and swooping her up from her chair to hug her. “I love you!”

“I wuv you too, Unco Jakey!” She said, hugging him back. “You eat pancakes wif me?”

“Absolutely!” He replied, “They’re my favorite.”

“I get to hug the birthday princess first!” Phoenix said, taking her from Jake. “Happy Birthday, Gracie Girl!”

“I wuv you Aunty Nix!” Gracie said, hugging her tightly.

“I love you too!” She replied, “I can’t wait to celebrate with you today!”

“You jump wif me in the bouncy castle?” Gracie asked her

“Of course I will!” She promised, “Uncle Jakey and I will happily jump with you!”

“Have a seat, I made enough to feed half of the Pacific Fleet” You said, setting a platter of pancakes on the table.

Once everyone was full and breakfast was cleared, Jake and Phoenix headed out on their secret mission for Gracie’s surprise and you and Bradley started to get Gracie ready for the party.

“I’m going to jump in the shower quick, can you get her dressed in a play outfit?” You asked, “We’ll take her Princess dress for her to change into at the party.”

“Sure can.” Bradley said, “Come on, Princess, let’s go get you ready while Mommy showers.”

After a quick shower, pulling your hair up to keep it dry, you pull on a pair of shorts and the tshirt you’d ordered for the party that said “Mommy of the Birthday Princess”. You’d ordered one for Bradley that said “Daddy of the Birthday Princess” to wear as well. You took your hair down and ran a brush through before deciding to pull it into a loose braid to keep most of it off your face.

“Alright, we’ve one birthday Princess dressed, but we both decided it would be in everyone’s best interests to let Mommy tackle the hair.” Bradley said, coming into your room carrying Gracie piggy back style.

“I think I’m up to the challenge.” You said, smiling at the pair, “I set your t-shirt out for you.. It’s not a Hawaiian shirt, but figured you’d make an exception just this once.”

“I don’t ONLY wear Hawaiian shirts.” He pointed out, chuckling. He carefully let Gracie slide off his back onto your bed, then turned to look at the shirt, his face lighting up as he read it. “I absolutely love it, Sweetheart.”

“Good.” You said, kissing him, “Go get ready, I’ll do Gracie’s hair, then we can head over to help Mav and Penny.”

“I love you.” He said, stealing another kiss before picking up his t-shirt. “Thank you for letting me be her Daddy.”

“I love you too,” You replied, “Thank you for loving her and for wanting to BE her Daddy.”

*****

When you arrived at Penny and Mav’s they were already hard at working getting food prepared and set up on platters.

“There’s the birthday Princess!” Penny said when Amelia led the three of you to the kitchen. “Happy Birthday! Are you excited for your party?”

“Yes!” Gracie exclaimed, squirming to be let down from Bradley’s arms. He obliged, setting her down so she could run to Penny and give her hugs.

“Where’s my hugs, Little Chick?” Mav asked, crouching down and opening his arms up. Gracie immediately launched herself into his arms.

“Little Chick, huh?” You asked, smiling at the pair.

“Figured it was appropriate.” Mav winked, “We used to call Bradley Baby Goose… so Little Chick seemed to fit this cutie.”

“Baby Goose?” You gushed, looking at Bradley, who sighed and chuckled, shaking his head at his godfather. “That is the most adorable thing EVER!”

“Thanks, Mav.” Bradley groaned

“Speaking of adorable,” Penny said, “I love your shirts!”

“Thanks!” You said, smiling, “I found them online and couldn’t resist.”

“Do you think we can get shirts made for the Disney trip next weekend?” Bradley asked, “Or is it too late?”

“I think we can probably make it happen.” You replied, smiling at him. “Maybe we can get them made for the whole squad?”

“I can guarantee you that every one of them would wear one.” Mav said. “Myself included.”

“Count me in.” Penny agreed.

“Me too!” Amelia said, “Gracie, do you want to go play for a little bit while the adults set everything up?”

“Yes pwease!” Gracie said, “Mommy, Daddy, I go pway?”

“Go ahead, Baby Girl.” Bradley said, “Just make sure you listen to Amelia, OK?”

“OK!” She replied, running off with Amelia.

“I wish I had that child’s abundance of energy.” Mav laughed

“Or her resilience.” You said, thinking about everything she’d been through already in her three years of life and despite it all she was still the most loving, free spirited, and trusting child you’d ever met.

“I dunno, Sweetheart,” Bradley said, “I think she learned resilience from her Momma. She’s a strong little little girl because she’s had you to learn from… and she loves with her whole heart, just like her Mommy.”

“He’s right, Y/N.” Penny agreed. “Her resilience and strength is a direct reflection of you. You’ve done an amazing job, Sweetie… no matter what, never doubt that.”

“Y’all are gonna make me cry before this party!” You said, tears threatening to spill over. Bradley pulled you into his arms, tucking your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. You breathed him in, recentering yourself and pushing back the emotions. Once you were calmed again, you lifted your head enough to kiss his cheek, “Ok, let’s get our daughter’s birthday party ready for her.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled, kissing your forehead before releasing you.

A few hours later Amelia found you all sitting outside having gotten all of the food prepped. All that was left was for the meat to go on the grill when it was time for the party.

“Gracie fell asleep while we were watching Beauty and the Beast.” She said, sitting down next to Bradley. The two had really bonded recently. You could tell Amelia looked up to him, and saw him almost as a big brother figure. “She’s on the couch and I put pillows on the floor next to her in case she rolls off.”

“Thanks, Ames.” Bradley said, smiling affectionately at her. “She loves spending time with you, you’re really good with her.”

“She’s adorable.” Amelia replied, “I’m guessing a little sibling isn’t in the cards for me, so it’s fun to get to play with Gracie and have her around.”

“Definitely a no on the siblings, Sweetheart.” Penny confirmed, “That ship has sailed.”

“How would you feel about having a niece?” you asked, “Being an aunt could be just as fun as being a big sister.”

“Really?” She asked, her eyes lighting up and a smile spreading across her face.

“I think you’d make a fantastic aunt.” You confirmed, then nodded at Bradley, “And since this one is in the only sibling club too, I think he needs to be adopted. Feel like taking on a big brother?”

“It does seem kinda cool to have a big brother.” She acknowledged, “I guess I can adopt this one. He’s kinda cool?”

“Just KINDA cool?” Bradley gasped, “Gracie thinks I’m SUPER cool.”

“I wouldn’t go THAT far…” Amelia laughed, “But… I think you’d be a really awesome big brother.”

“It just so happens,” Bradley said standing up and pulling her with him into a hug, “I think you’d be a really awesome little sister.” Amelia wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back. And just like that, the tears that had threatened to spill earlier were back.

“What did we miss?” Jake asked, coming around the corner of the house with Phoenix by his side.

“Bradley just got himself adopted by Amelia as a big brother.” Penny said, wiping her own tears from her eyes. Glancing up you see Mav’s eyes suspiciously wet and red as he watches the two hug.

“What took you so…” You trailed off, your eyes falling on the pony that was being led to the backyard behind Jake and Phoenix. “JACOB! WE SAID NO PONIES!”

“Ok, but in my defense, I never actually AGREED to that.” He said, flashing a bright smile, his dimple popping, “And Mav signed off on it. Besides, It’s a UNICORN, Tulip, not a pony.”

Looking back you noticed that there was indeed a unicorn horn attached to the pony’s head, making said pony a unicorn.

“So, you can’t get mad, because we absolutely followed the no pony rule.” Phoenix pointed out.

“You all need full time adult supervision.” You laughed, looking at Bradley, “Were you in on this?”

“Absolutely not.” He promised, “I’m innocent…although, I kinda wish I’d thought of it. Gracie is going to LOVE it.”

“I surrender.” You laughed, “I’m clearly outnumbered.”

“There’s the spirit!” Jake cheered. “Mav, where should we have them set up the pen and Unicorn?”

“We can make space next to the castle bounce house.” He replied, getting up and heading over to the bounce house with Jake and another handler leading the pony/unicorn.

***

By the time the squad started to arrive, Gracie was awake from her nap, changed into Princess dress and already in the bounce house with Jake and Phoenix.

“Where’s our birthday Princess?” Coyote asked, leading the group to the backyard.

“Last I checked she was giving Jake and Nat a run for their money in the bounce house.” You replied, “They would probably welcome someone to tag out with them.”

“Mission accepted!” He said, “Fanboy, let’s go bounce!”

“Can the bounce castle handle that?” Amelia asked, looking at the castle doubtfully. “That’s a lot of crazy in one confined space.”

Bradley and Payback almost fell on the ground laughing. Bob and Mav just agreed with Amelia. You and Penny shook your heads laughing, and decided to go grab drinks for everyone.

Several of Gracie’s friends from daycare and their families arrived a little later. Mav started the grill up, getting the food going to feed the masses. Kids were running around between pony “unicorn” rides and bouncing in the castle, while the adults supervised, played yard games, or sat together and talked.

“Looks like the perfect party for a princess.” Lauren said, walking towards where you and Bradley were currently standing watching Gracie ride the pony. “And it appears the live animals did in fact win out.”

“Lauren!” I’m so glad you could make it!” You beamed, “The unicorn pony is all Jake. He requires adult supervision at all times, I’ve learned.”

“There are worse things.” She laughed, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I love getting to see the happy beginnings…and I know this is the start to a beautiful family.”

“Thank you again for all that you did for them.” Bradley said, “This is all possible because of everything you did to help. Gracie is living her best life right now.”

“I’d say she’s living her best life because she’s got two amazing parents and a very large extended family that loves her unconditionally.” Lauren countered, smiling at Gracie as she passed around on the pony.

“She’s definitely got a large family.” You agreed, looking around at everyone that showed up. “I never dared to even dream this could be our life.”

“It’s only going to get better from here, Sweetheart.” Bradley said, leaning over to kiss your head.

“TIME TO EAT!” Jake yelled, drawing everyone’s attention towards where you had all the food set up.

“We better get in there before there’s nothing left.” You said laughing, “Trust me, this lot can eat, so you’ll wanna get it while you can.”

“Come on Princess.” Bradley said, lifting Gracie off the pony, “Time to eat my sweet baby girl.”

“Daddy, you see me wide?” She beamed, proud of herself.

“I sure did!” He replied, “You did so good! We might need to find you some riding lessons when you get a little bigger.”

“And so it begins.” You laughed, “I think this was Jake’s ulterior motive… making her fall in love with horses.”

“Horses and planes…”Bradley said, laughing, “It tracks.”

You got Gracie a plate and set her with her friends to eat while Bradley got plates for the two of you and set them at the table the rest of the squad had settled at.

“Looks like Gracie loves the Unicorn.” Jake said, looking pleased with himself.

“She does in fact love the PONY.” You laughed, rolling your eyes, “Your evil plan seems to have worked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tulip.” He said, feigning innocence. “I simply realized that every princess party needs a unicorn.”

“Uh huh… had nothing to do with getting your niece hooked on horses?” You asked, not buying it for a minute.

“That is just an added bonus!” He beamed. “She’s a natural in the saddle too! Did you see her?”

“Your Cowboy is showing.” Phoenix teased, winking at him, “It’s cute, I’m not complaining… just stating a fact.”

“I can show you my cowboy hat when we get home.” He offered, smirking back at her. “You can even try it on.”

“Eww, nope! No, stop!” You whined, “Jakey! NOT ok!”

“It’s just a hat?” Phoenix replied, not understanding your response.

“There’s a rule about wearing a cowboy’s hat, Sweets.” Jake said cheekily, “If you…”

“Jacob, there are small children present.” You reminded him, leveling him with your ‘mom’ look. “You can tell her all about it later.”

“Now I’m really intrigued.” Phoenix said, looking at Jake. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “IS THAT FOR REAL?”

You laughed at her reaction, nodding your head to confirm.

“Care to share, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, “Now I’m curious.”

“Depends…” You reply, “Do you happen to own a cowboy hat?”

“I could be persuaded to buy one.” He replied, “I’m guessing by your earlier reaction to Jake’s comment that it would be worth my while.”

“Bradshaw,” Jake said, glaring playfully across the table, “That’s my baby sister you’re talking to.”

“And?” Bradley tossed back, smirking at him.

“Just reminding you.” Jake replied, “I don’t need to be party to all your conversations. There are little ears here.”

“On that note,” You said, changing the subject, “I”m going to go check on the kiddos then get the cake from the kitchen.”

“I’ll come help.” Bradley offered.

After making sure that Gracie was OK at the table with the other kids, you and Bradley made your way into the house to get her birthday cake ready along with the candles.

“So…the hat rule?” Bradley asked, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around you as you put the candles into the cake.

“The rule is if you wear a cowboy’s hat, you ride that cowboy.” You smirked, glancing back at Bradley.

“I may definitely need to invest in a cowboy hat then.” Bradley said, dipping his head to kiss your neck. “Or we can change the rule… you can wear one of my uniform caps and ride the aviator.”

“I think I like the sound of that flyboy.” You replied, turning in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck and pulling him down to kiss him. When you pulled away you added, “But for now, we need to bring this cake out to our daughter and keep her party moving.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He replied, smiling, “I can’t wait to watch her open all of her presents!”

“I have a feeling we may need to add a room onto the house to hold all of her toys.” You laughed.

“We can make that happen.” Bradley said, picking up the cake from the counter.

After a wild rendition of “happy birthday” was sung, you moved to the food table to start serving cake and ice cream with Penny’s help dishing it all up and Bradley helping to pass out the dessert. Once kids were once more sugared up and had energy, they returned to the bounce house and pony rides for a while before you attempted to round everyone up to open gifts.

You were correct in assuming you’d need to add on to the house to hold all of her gifts. Her new extended family had definitely gone overboard. Mav and Penny had alone had practically cleaned out the Disney Store. She’d have lots of new Princess decor for her new bedroom. Bob got her a new princess themed tea party set which she immediately made him promise to play with her with. Payback and Fanboy went together and got her a princess bike with training wheels, complete with a princess helmet.

“This one is from Aunt Nix and me, Princess G.” Jake said, handing her a brightly wrapped box.

She tore the paper off and opened the box pulling out a small flight suit. It was customized with a Dagger patch on one side and her name Gracie “Princess” Seresin on the other. Inside the box was also a child size pair of aviator sunglasses.

“I match you and Daddy!” Gracie beamed happily, “And Aunty Nix!”

“You sure do, Princess G.” Jake said, “And all your other uncles, and Papa Mav too.”

“I fwy wif you now?” She asked, batting her eyelashes at her uncle.

“Soon, I promise!” He said, “Very very soon!”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You smiled at Jake. “And very restrained from you….”

“Oh that’s not all.” He laughed, pulling out another giant gift bag, and handing it to his niece. You just shook your head. “Come on now, Tulip, you know me better than that.”

Gracie pulled the paper from the bag and lifted out a pony playset and a little cowgirl hat with a princess tiara attached to it. She loved it, wanting to wear it immediately. Thankfully you’d put her hair into lower ponytails today so the hat fit over them.

You and Bradley got her a couple of new toys and outfits, not wanting to go completely overboard.

“There’s one more here for you, Baby Girl.” Bradley said, handing her a small wrapped box. You looked at him questioningly, not recognizing the box. He smiled, shrugging. “It’s my first birthday with her as her Daddy… it had to be special.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek, whispering “I love you” in his ear.

She tore off the paper on the little box opening it up carefully, her eyes lit up and she smiled widely at Bradley.

“Daddy! It’s pwetty!” She exclaimed. Nestled inside the box on a satin backing was a tiny necklace with two small charm pendants. One was a small princess crown and the other an f-18. Where he’d managed to find that was beyond you.

“Bradley, it’s perfect.” You whispered, tears springing to your eyes.

Jake leaned over, his own eyes suspiciously wet, to help Gracie take the necklace from the box and to put it on her. Looking closer at the necklace he said, “Princess G, it’s even more special.. It says ‘Daddy’s Girl.” on the crown!”

At that, you lost the battle and the tears freely fell from your eyes. Bradley wiped his own eyes, smiling as Jake put the necklace on Gracie.

“I wuv you, Daddy!” Gracie said, coming over and throwing her arms around Bradley as he picked her up, holding her tightly to him.

“I love you too, my sweet Baby Girl.” He told her.

“So, would now be a good time to tell you that Bradley and I definitely went ahead and ordered that Castle playset for y’all’s backyard?” Jake asked, wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to add some humor back to the situation.

“You know what?” You said, wiping your own eyes, laughing through the emotions, “I’m not even shocked.”

After the party wound down, the squad stayed behind to help with clean up. Payback and Fanboy offered to take the bounce house back to the rental place once it was deflated. Gracie got a few more rides on the pony before the handler had to load her back onto the trailer. Jake handed you their business card, saying they also offered riding lessons.

You all loaded Gracie’s gifts into Jake’s truck as there was more room in there than the Bronco. You let Gracie keep a few things out she wanted to play with the next day while you all tackled the packing, and you would take the rest straight to Bradley’s house to avoid having to move it twice.

“Hey, what time are you thinking of starting packing in the morning? Do you think it’ll take all day?” Mav asked, as you and Bradley were loading the last of her gifts.

“Definitely not all day.” You said, “It’s mostly clothes and toys, not a whole house.”

“How would you feel about bringing Gracie out to the hangar tomorrow morning and taking her up for her first flight?” Mav suggested.

“You wanna take Gracie flying tomorrow morning?” Bradley asked, smiling.

“I was thinking more along the lines of her Dad and Uncle taking her up in the air.” He clarified. “She’s small enough, she can be strapped into the backseat with someone… probably safer that way anyway.”

“You’ll let us fly your plane?” Jake asked, clearly shocked.

“You are both highly skilled pilots.” Mav laughed, “Of course I trust you to fly my plane.”

“What do you think, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, “Can we take her flying?”

“Just promise me no crazy pilot stuff and to return her safely back to the ground.” You said, “So maybe Jake should be the backseater tomorrow.”

“Hey!” He protested, “I take GREAT offense to that.”

“I don’t doubt your skills, Jakey.” You laughed, “I doubt your restraint in not turning my daughter into a dare devil at 3 years old. I don’t know that my Mommy heart can handle that. Can we agree to wait until she’s older to turn her into a daredevil?”

“Fine.” He agreed, “Rooster, for tomorrow only, I’ll be your backseater.”

“I’m sure Bob and Fanboy can give you some tips if you need them.” Bradley teased, “Thanks, Mav. This really means a lot.”

“No thanks needed.” He replied, “Taking you up flying when you were little is probably one of the best memories I have of your childhood.”

“So you’re saying I should be ready for my daughter to follow in her uncle and Daddy’s footsteps to become a Naval Aviator?” You asked.

“Hell yeah!” Phoenix said, bring Gracie over to the group. “She’d be fierce.”

“I don’t know that the Navy would survive that.” Mav laughed. “It’s barely surviving all of you.”

“Fair.” Phoenix laughed. “This one is fading fast. I think all the bouncing and riding tired her out and the sugar is leaving her system.”

“Let’s get her home to bed.” You said, “She’s going to have another exciting day tomorrow, apparently.”

“You and Nix take the Bronco with Gracie and get her tucked in,” Bradley said, “Jake and I will run all this to the house in his truck then head that way.”

“Wow, that’s huge… Rooster’s letting someone else drive his Bronco.” Jake chuckled, “Didn’t think we’d see the day.”

“She’s trusting me to be a father to Gracie.” He replied, shrugging, “Nothing can compare that, man.”

“Fair point.” Jake said, “Let’s get this haul to your house and get back to our girls.”

After saying goodbye to Penny, Mav and Amelia and making plans to meet the next morning, Bradley loaded Gracie into her car seat. Phoenix got into the passenger seat buckling in, Jake going around to her side leaning in to steal a kiss.

Bradley walked you to the driver’s side, pulling you into his arms, your own winding around his neck.

“Drive carefully, Sweetheart.” He said. “My whole world is with you… and not the Bronco… you know that right?”

“I know, Baby.” You said, smiling, pulling him down to kiss him. “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” He said, resting his forehead against yours, “See you soon.”

A/N: Sorry the update took so long! I promise, I've got more time now so updates should be coming quicker! :)

Taglist:

@gracespicybradshaw

@friendly-neighborhood-peter

@oneelleandaneye

@super-btstrash-posts

@mygyn

@emma8895eb

@kitty-moonflower-blog

awesomebooklover17,

krismdavis,

Jayniebop,

Hisredheadedgoddess28,

jstarr86,

@cherrycola27,

@harrysgothicbitch ,

@caidi-paris

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@flyinlove

, fulla02 ,

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@avengersfan25

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@m-rae23

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@scrollsofkelio

@itsyassbitch

#miles teller #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #glen powell #starting over #big brother jake seresin #jake hangman seresin

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iboatedhere · 1 year ago

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thank you for the tag @kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @orchidscript & @lemonlyman-dotcom

Attempting to get the doctor AU going.

They had met–unofficially–at a conference Alex’s first year out of med school. Alex was poised to give a speech about the effectiveness of intra-aortic balloon pumps in cardiac shock patients, something he had spent months preparing for. He was ready and he was confident. He had been thriving under pressure his whole life and public speaking wasn’t something that ever fazed him.

But something snapped inside of him as he watched more and more people file into the conference hall. He wasn’t in school anymore and these people weren’t his classmates getting ready to listen to his valedictorian speech. They were professionals. They had been in the game for years—they were experts in their fields, and who the fuck was he to show up and act like he could teach them something? They would see right through him. They would think he was a fraud. They would tell him to his face that he couldn’t hack it, all this hard work and sacrifice would have been for nothing.

Alex broke out in a cold sweat, the speech crumpled in his hand as he closed his fist around it, smearing the ink of the words he so carefully thought out.

By the time he made it to the closest men’s room he could barely breathe. His chest was tight and his vision was spotty and he had accepted that he was going to die beside the urinals on the fourth floor of a DoubleTree by Hilton hotel.

Eyes closed and head tipped back against the cool tiles behind him, Alex was prepared to meet his maker when the door swung open. Assuming it was the Grim Reaper coming to take him, Alex cracked an eye open and was met not with a specter cloaked in black holding a scythe, but a tall, blond man in a well-cut suit.

A Meet Joe Black scenario, then. He could deal with that.

Alex drew his knees back against his chest and the man dropped to his directly in front of him.

“My name is Henry, I’m a doctor,” he had said and even on his last leg, Alex found the strength to roll his eyes.

“No shit, we all are,” he had wheezed before rattling off his symptoms because fuck if he knew what was happening inside this fogged up brain.

“I believe you’re having a panic attack,” Henry had said and Alex shook his head.

“I don’t get those.”

“That tends to be the case for most people,” Henry started, “until of course they do.”

Henry raised his hands slowly, the intent to reach out for him clear. Alex surprised the both of them when he bridged the gap and wrapped his fingers around Henry’s wrists, not wanting to be touched, but desperately needing it.

Henry, with his perfect hair and blue eyes and calming British accent, talked him through breathing exercises and had him focus on anything but the feeling of dread that had been clawing at his chest.

Slowly, it got easier to breath and his body stopped shaking and he was able to stand on his own two feet again.

Henry had lingered after, handing Alex paper towels to dry his face after he splashed himself with water and nodded his approval as Alex fussed with his hair in the mirror.

Alex never thought to be embarrassed until Alex caught Henry’s eye at the networking event long after the speech was over.

Alex was going to thank him, properly, for saving his ass, but Henry turned abruptly to the man he was standing with (whose maroon suit stood out beautifully against the sea of black and white) and muttered something that made the man look Alex over with an arched brow.

He said something back to Henry who immediately shook his head and walked off and Alex burned.

He still does, given the way Alex’s hackles rise and he needs to bite his tongue every time he sees the man which is, unfortunately, often.

#firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb #rwrb fic #Doctor AU #btw if there are any actual doctors out that that look at anything within this au and notice an inaccuracy.....#let me remind you you took an oath to do no harm and pointing it out to me would harm me greatly #i'm a ding-dong fic writer #i'll research all damn day for a fic but I won't ever understand the medical world #I'M DOING MY BEST

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queermentaldisaster · 9 months ago

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“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Hello! The first chapter of my shifter!au fic is here! This one is gonna be a long one, so you better strap in. This one is gonna be so much fun! I'm so excited to introduce you all to the intricacies of this AU i have plotted out.

Tags: @forestshadow-wolf @spicyspicyliving @bringinsexybackk69 (If you wanna be added or removed, leave a reply, tell me in a reblog, or shoot me an ask. Reblogs are greatly appreciated.)

Chapter under the cut.

Chapter 1: "Steel and Silver Sing For Justice"

“No.” He said, being adamant about this. “I’m not working with him on this.”

Price exhaled, his eyebrows furrowed. “Ghost, you will be working with Sergeant MacTavish on this.”

“And do you remember what happened the last time we worked together?” Ghost huffed, crossing his arms.

Price closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ghost, this isn't a discussion. We need both you and the sergeant on the field for this one. If it makes you feel better, you'll be working with Commander Phillip Graves as well as Colonel Vargas and Sergeant Major Parra.”

“It does not, but it's not like I have a bloody choice, eh?” Ghost asked, his eyes narrowed under the mask.

Price exhaled once more. “No, no you don't.”

“Of course.” Ghost mumbled, turning around and leaving.

That was a few days ago. Now he was sitting in the helo next to Soap, the Scot rambling about something. Honestly, he'd tuned Soap out a while ago. He stared at the ground, feeling the urge to shift, that feeling like deep-rooted anxiety deep in his gut, bubbling up. He clenched one of his hands into a fist, taking deep breaths. ‘In for three, hold for three, out for three.’ He thought, repeating that in his head as he continued breathing.

When he looked back up, Soap was giving him a weird look. “What?” Ghost asked. Soap shook his head. “Nothin’, ye just looked nervous is all. Ye alright?” He responded, his voice soft and calm. Ghost looked away. “‘M fine, sergeant. Worry about yourself.” He whispered. Soap arched an eyebrow. “Lt, ye clearly ain’t fine. Just talk tae me, please.” The younger man pleaded.

Ghost shook his head, as the helo landed “No, Soap. I’m fine. We need to focus on the mission.” He stood up. Soap huffed. “Fine.” he said as he stood up. “But ah dinnae believe ye.” He muttered. Ghost looked back at him. “You don’t have to believe me.”

The helo opened and Ghost walked down the ramp, Soap at his side. The Colonel, Alejandro Vargas, walked forward to meet them. “Alejandro!” Soap exclaimed, offering his hand for a handshake. Alejandro took it with a polite; “Sergeant MacTavish.”

Soap chuckled, his smile growing ever wider. “Call me Soap,” he said as the two men pulled away from the handshake. Alejandro looked to Ghost. “Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.” He murmured. Soap cut in. “Actually, I believe he prefers to be-”

So Ghost cut him off. “That’ll do.” He said, looking back to Alejandro and nodding. Alejandro nodded. “You two shifters?” He asked, and it was a simple question. But one that Ghost did not answer. But Soap nodded. “Ah’m a red fox shifter.” Alejandro smiled. “Ocelot here. Let's go.” He turned around and led Ghost and Soap towards an armored vehicle.

Ghost and Soap climbed in the back. Alejandro got into the passenger seat. “This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.” He murmured, and Rodolfo looked at the two in the back seat. “Hello.” He murmured, before saying something to Alejandro in Spanish.

“Where’s Hassan?” Ghost asked. Alejandro smirked. “Cartel safe-house, ten clicks from here.” Ghost nodded, and the vehicle began driving, two more behind it.

Ghost honestly kinda zoned out on the drive through the city. At some point, he heard Soap say something to him about kids, guns and balloons, and Rodolfo said something about his mask, but he was too busy trying to ignore that damned feeling in his gut.

Ghost didn't shift. Not since Zaragoza and Roba. He used to, even with his dad's abuse, albeit rarely, but he couldn't anymore. Not when all it brought up were memories of pain and suffering. So he let the animal in him fester.

It would never get out again.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty mw2 #ghostsoap #ghoap #soapghost #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #captain price #alejandro vargas #alejandro mw2 #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo parra #rodolfo mw2 #phillip graves #phillip graves cod #shifter!au

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: It's always a funny thing to be invited to your ex-boyfriend's engagement party. It's an even funnier thing when it seems all his family members have something to say to you.

Masterlist

“How about Lace Place?” Lacey asks, flashing her hands in an ark to imitate the arch of the sign she is imagining. Y/N gives her a funny look at the words, “Babe, that sounds like you sell drugs. If you name your restaurant that, you’ll be attracting the wrong type of clientele. Although, if a stoner accidentally walks in, maybe you’ll get some business from the munchies.” Lacey cringes at the realization and nods. “Hey, you think I could sell some cookies at your bookstore? Maybe, it can help drum up some business,” Lacey suggests.

“I don’t see why it would be an issue. Let me just read up on the regulations on it just in case we need a special license or something, but it’s such a cute idea. I can get one of those rollie carts and call it the Cookie Cart. Ooh, maybe I can give a free bookmark with each purchase of a cookie.”

“That’s a great idea. Then I could offer the same thing when someone buys a certain thing at the restaurant. Like, get a ten percent coupon for the bookstore. How do you feel about being a dinner special?”

“Ahh, I love this idea. We are just two business girlies supporting each other. Soon, well, be girl bosses dominating the world.”

“Uhh, excuse me. Last time I checked, you were already a girl boss, who dominates the world. I mean In The Shadows has been in The New York Times Best Sellers for fifty-two weeks, now. You went on an international book tour for your debut book and you are writing the much-anticipated sequel as we speak. You made it, girl.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t discount your achievements though. You literally worked at a Michelin-star restaurant and graduated top of your class at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. Now, you are opening your own restaurant at twenty-three.”

The girls laugh at the little spiel they went on about being proud of their achievement and return to the paperwork they were going through for each of their respective businesses. In the five years since graduating high school, Y/N graduated from Oxford at twenty-one, but not before signing a deal with a major publisher for her book. A year later, her book is on the best sellers list and she is whisked away all over the world to promote it. She does recognize that her success may in part have to do with her mother and considered writing under a pseudonym, but decides against it when she realizes it wouldn’t really do anything. Using a fake name would mean she wouldn’t be able to make an in-person appearance out of concern for being recognized. It’s not exactly like her face has been hidden from her mother’s social media page. She really wants to have those moments to connect physically with her fans.

On the other hand, Lacey had gone to culinary school at Le Cordon Bleu, and then quickly got a job at the Michelin-star restaurant. She decided to quit her job there so that she could open up her own restaurant.

——

Y/N has no clue where she is going. Mason had just told her to get dressed nicely and to get in the car. She couldn’t get a question out, so she followed his instructions and got changed. She put on tan-coloured pants and a light pink balloon-sleeved satin blouse. She wore a black belt with a gold buckle and golden jewellery to pull the outfit together. Y/N sulked as she walked to Mason’s car. Her pestering as to where they were going went unanswered. When she sees where he stops the car, she wants to literally jump out of the car and run home. “Why did you bring me here, Mace?”

“It’s their engagement party today. I wasn’t planning on bringing you, but Blythe called and she literally begged me to bring you today. She knows how much you meant to Rafe and wants to get to know you more. She hopes, maybe even, that you guys can make up.”

Y/N gives Mason a questioning look, “She wants her fiancé to get along again with his ex-girlfriend?” Mason nods and gently moves to bring his sister inside. “Blythe is a sweet girl and she really loves Rafe. She feels secu-.” Realizing that what he was about to say may have made his sister feel bad, he quickly switches to a different path. “Blythe is really friendly. She makes it her mission to help mend broken relationships. Rafe told me that she got two girls who were best friends when they were younger to make up after they got into a two-year fight over a boy. Can you just go in? You don’t have to talk to anyone and I literally brought you a book.” Y/N isn’t too excited about going to her ex-boyfriend’s engagement party, but she does as her brother asks.

The twins enter Tannyhill together and are immediately given each a hug from the excited bride-to-be. “Ahh, and in comes the best man. You are only a tiny bit late, Mace. Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come. I just know you and Rafe will make up in a jiffy.” Y/N gives an awkward smile, “Yeah, I totally chose to be here voluntarily.” Mason discretely elbows his sister in the stomach with a smile on his face. Play nice, the action signified. Blythe doesn’t seem to sense the sarcasm in Y/N’s words and turns towards Mason. “We are going to take the wedding party pictures now. Come on,” Blythe orders, taking Mason’s hand and dragging him away. “Rafe, say hello to Y/N.”

Y/N hadn’t noticed that Rafe had been standing at the main entrance too. Blythe has a way of holding everyone’s attention in a room. He had been standing there quietly observing the greetings. He quickly murmurs a hello then goes off after Blythe before Y/N can return it. She isn’t sure what to do and seeing as the only people she knows at the party are groomsmen, she goes upstairs to read on the balcony. She knows she probably shouldn’t be up there, but the balcony was guest free and she really didn’t want to explain who she was to anyone else.

The broken silence from the front yard causes her to look up from the book. She silently watches as it appears the party is being moved outside. Rafe’s arm is wrapped around Blythe’s waist as she makes a speech thanking everyone for being there. Once she is done talking, Rafe follows her around whilst she talks from guest to guest. Rafe and the older lady listen to something Blythe says and they both laugh their heads off. This is why Y/N had to break up with Rafe. She could never be the social butterfly that matched his need to be around people. She could never fake pleasant conversations with people she doesn’t know. She would never want any of the traditional things associated with a wedding. And Rafe deserves all of that. Watching Blythe be all of those things for him cements the idea into Y/N’s mind that she did the right thing for him. He was able to move on and thrive with someone much more like him. With someone who didn’t hold him back.

“Why does it not surprise me that you are up here?” A voice breaks the silence. Y/N turns to see a much older Wheezie at the door of the balcony. “OMG, Wheez. Look how big you’ve gotten. You are such a dignified young woman. Are you driving yet?” Wheezie moves herself to go sit beside Y/N, “Thank you, but I only seem to have gotten bigger because you haven’t seen me in five years. And I am driving. Rafe and Sarah are too scared to be in a car with me though. Blythe lets me drive her but I think only because she wants brownie points with me.”

“It’s still nice of her though. Do you like her?”

“Yeah, but you would let me drive you because you believe in my driving. Not because you want me to like you. You bribed me with cookies for that. She does it because she wants me to like her. She’s nice, though. But you know, she doesn’t make Rafe’s eyes twinkle as much as you do.”

“Louisa, you can’t keep comparing me to her. She’s the one marrying your brother.”

“And you are the one who still has a tighter hold on his heart even if he won’t admit it. You know I’m still angry at you for breaking up with him in the first place. But I missed you too much to be mad at you right now.”

“You gotta stop saying that. And I know you are mad. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have iced you guys out like that. I’m back now though and you can tell me all about your high school experience.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about that later. Right now, I want you to sign my book.”

“You read my book?”

“Of course I did. You tell the best stories. You know Damian is an interesting character.”

“He is, isn’t he? Don’t you just love a good demon love interest?”

“Yeah, that’s totally why I find him interesting…”

Y/N doesn’t comment on Wheezie’s crypticness and follows the girl to her bedroom where the book sits. She signs the book and is dragged back downstairs to the party by the younger girl. Wheezie promises to come back and darts off to who knows where. Y/N is left alone in the kitchen she once used to make dessert cookies for her first date with Rafe. She resorts back to reading her book on the kitchen island. The sound of someone entering the kitchen causes her to look up from her book. Rafe is at the entryway staring at her with a scowl. “Where did you run off to, Y/L/N?”

“I was upstairs on the balcony, reading.”

“You know, typically guests aren’t allowed upstairs during a party.”

“Wheezie didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“Yeah, well, she worships the ground you walk on so she isn’t exactly a non-biased host.”

They stare each other down for a few seconds in silence before Y/N decides to break it.

“You told me you wanted to get married at twenty-five.”

“And you told me that you wanted to be with me forever. I guess we are both pretty good at changing our life plan without telling the other.”

“Haha, such a good retort. You really thought that would hurt me, Rafe?” Her words are only half true. The reminder of the choice she made stings a lot if she were to be honest, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Rafe just shakes his head and pushes past her to get to the fridge. He gets a drink out of it, “Whatever, I don’t have time to deal with this.” On his way out of the kitchen, he accidentally brushes her arm with his elbow and the scent of sea breeze and pool overwhelms her. The fact that he still smells the same after all these years causes her breath to hitch and tears to start to swell in her eyes. Rafe wants to pretend like he doesn’t see it. He wants to pretend like he doesn’t care, so he does. Now, she is left alone in the kitchen, wondering where the hell Wheezie went.

Y/N goes in search of the younger girl, but it seems to be like playing a game of Where’s Waldo with the amount of other people in the house. Somehow, Y/N always seems to find herself in the same room as Rafe and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her that every time he spots her, he moves to another room. He’s avoiding her and she obviously understands why he would. Eventually, she gives up on finding Wheezie, but she soon regrets staying in the now-empty backyard. Because Ward Cameron is quick to make his presence known to the girl. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.” Y/N looks at Ward with critical eyes, it’s not every day she sees the human embodiment of her insecurities in person. Her hands go to hold her locket and plays with it between her fingers.

“I’m not here out of my free will. The bride wanted me here and what the bride wants, she gets.”

“Ahh, yes. Blythe,” Ward begins, they both look at Rafe and Blythe through the window. “Isn’t she a much better fit for him? She went to UNC with him. She moved to the OBX for him. Look at everything she sacrificed for him.” Y/N watches as Blythe and Rafe interact with the guests of the party. She can’t listen to Ward’s insistent belittling of her, so she does what Rafe would argue she does best and runs away from Tannyhill. She runs as fast as she can back home without a care for her tired limbs. Once safely in the sanctuary of her room, she slams her back against her door and starts crying. She doesn’t know why she is; she’s over Rafe. She let him go, but something about Ward poking holes at all of her insecurities brought back some complicated feelings she always seems to want to repress.

——

Rafe had seen Ward talking to Y/N through the glass and he watched confused as she ran off after something his father said. He had no idea what Ward said but he was sure as hell going to find out. The engagement party has finally come to an end. Rose and Blythe went out to do some wedding shopping, while Sarah and Wheezie went to go do sister things, leaving Rafe the perfect opportunity to interrogate Ward. “What did you say to my ex-girlfriend?” Ward turns toward his son in his desk chair, “Nothing she hasn’t already heard before. What does it matter? As far as I know, you didn’t want anything to do with her.” Rafe shakes his head at his dad’s callousness. “Really, Dad? Even after we’ve been broken up for five years, you still find a way to torment her,” Rafe argues.

Ward gives a questioning tilt of his head towards his father, “She broke up with you. How could you still care for you?” “She may have made the decision to break up with me and I will always be angry at her for that. But I’m not oblivious enough to think you were a harmless observer in Y/N and mine’s relationship,” Rafe begins. “I know you probably said some things to her that set our break up into motion. I want to make something clear, Dad. Even if we are broken up, I don’t want you to get your claws into Y/N’s head ever again. She doesn’t deserve it no matter how much she hurt me.” Rafe finishes his threat and gets up from the chair he sits upon. He storms out of Ward’s office without another word.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc

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larkspyrr · 1 year ago

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chapter vi — i have my freedom but i don't have much time (wc. 5.4k)

prev — masterlist / ao3 — next

reblogs are appreciated!

You smiled, slanting a dry look at Wriothesley, your arms crossed. You tapped your foot impatiently. “What happened to ‘being ready for anything, with me by your side’?”

Wriothesley, stark pale, stood by your side. He looked stiff. “Miscalculated,” he said flatly. “Forgot about horses.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

He scowled. “I am a duke.”

Your eyes flicked to his boots and back to his face. You delicately arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t look like it from here.”

The sun was high in the sky and beating down on your heads outside your family's stables. The breeze was light and smelled faintly like the sea and leather and hay. It was a beautiful day — perfect for riding.

Wriothesley sighed, unaffected by the auspicious weather, looking over the fearsome beast that stood before him, unmoved by his theatrics. The mare was as beautiful as she was familiar to you — tall and broad with a gleaming chestnut coat and a rich, auburn mane. She blew air out of her nostrils in a huff, eyes gentle and curious as she looked over Wriothesley.

“I am out of my depth.”

“Considering your usual depth is ‘seafloor’, I find that hard to believe.”

“You know? I think I have paperwork to do back at the Fortress.”

“You aren’t even on the horse yet, Wrio.”

If you didn’t know better, you might have sworn he was pouting. “This is going to be how I die,” he intoned, jerking his arm out to gesture at the offending horse. She remained impassive. He shot you a glare that lacked any power. “Horses have never liked me. He isn’t going to be any different.”

You rolled your eyes. “She might surprise you. I chose her with you in mind,” you said encouragingly, as though you were speaking to a student still in single-digits. “I thought the two of you might get along. Give her a chance.”

His expression was doubtful. The eye you could see at his side narrowed in suspicion. “You picked her out for me?”

“She’s a real sweetheart and the most patient mare I’ve ever met," you said, smiling affectionately at the mare. "I thought she’d be able to tolerate a learner.”

He turned a baleful look on the horse again, crossing his arms tightly in front of his chest as if to construct a wall between him and his new nemesis.

“...What’s her name,” he said, defeated. He looked like a deflating balloon, his arms falling from their defensive position back to his sides in a display of clear surrender.

You looked at the mare and smiled lightly, placing a gentle hand on her nose. You stroked her soft fur, chuckling. “This is Lucy.”

You turned at the sound of footfall as Wriothesley approached you and Lucy with slow, even steps, eyes focused cautiously. He sighed, nodding at the horse in polite greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Lucy.”

She looked at him blandly, still chewing her hay.

Your lips quirked as you watched the two staring at one another in the lowest stakes stalemate in Teyvat history. “You can pat her,” you prompted, jerking your chin at Lucy. “She won’t mind.”

“Will she bite?”

“Almost certainly not.”

“And I can trust you?”

You shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

He looked at you dubiously before turning his tired eyes back to Lucy. He reached out a hand, slow and deliberate. Lucy looked at him evenly, clearly bored with all the ongoing buildup. He finally placed his hand on her snout in a glorious — if anticlimactic — moment of victory.

You clapped slowly. “Wonderfully done. Very moving. I shall write the Palais Mermonia immediately and have them issue you a medal for your breathtaking display of faith and bravery.”

He didn’t bother looking at you, still stroking Lucy’s chestnut nose. She nickered quietly. “You’re awfully funny today,” he deadpanned. “What next?”

“We get you on the horse."

He exhaled, his hand falling away. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Do you need an instruction manual?” You walked over to Lucy, reaching out to adjust her bridle. You looked at him with a smirk. “Shall I hold your hand?”

He huffed. “I’m sure I can manage, you ass.”

You laughed, a rich sound making its way out of your throat in a surprised burst. “Don’t be like that. I’m doing you a favor. Most new riders start by mucking out the stalls before they get to ride, you know.”

“Well, I don’t have the luxury of time, I’m afraid. No touching coming-of-age stories where man and beast form an impenetrable bond will be taking place here.”

“Never say never, Your Grace,” you whispered with a jaunty eye waggle, taking him by the elbow and guiding him to Lucy’s side. He followed with surprising ease. “You have a few weeks yet. Now up you go.”

He exhaled a rough breath. After only a moment, he planted a foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up, opposite leg easily swinging onto the other side of Lucy’s saddle and coming to a stop, seated very, very still but looking anything but sturdy.

You grinned up at him, patting Lucy’s shoulder. “How is it?”

Wriothesley didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He placed them on either side of Lucy’s neck, his fingers curling in her mane as if to anchor himself. He was frowning slightly. “Nothing special.”

Lucy snorted indignantly and Wriothesley made a noise akin to choking as he doubled down on his grip, hurriedly releasing her once he realized he’d been holding too tight. “Oops, sorry,” he muttered quickly, placing a flat hand on her neck once more in an awkward, apologetic pat.

You couldn’t seem to prevent the smile from spreading on your face. He almost seemed to have forgotten you were there at all. “Don’t worry,” you said, reaching out and scratching Lucy’s nose. She leaned into the touch. “If she didn’t kick me off when I was kid, I doubt she’d do the same to you now. I was an awful student. Impatient and hyper.”

His eyes widened as he froze in his unhurried stroking of her mane. "This is your horse?" he asked, pointing needlessly at Lucy beneath him.

"No, she's not ‘mine’. We're good friends," you said, giving the mare a fond look. “We learned how to ride together.”

He looked at you thoughtfully and cocked his head. The sun filtering down through the slats of the stable roof cast rays of shadow and gold across the monochrome of his hair, gilding him in the morning light. His blue eyes were difficult to look away from. “You really trust her?”

You held his gaze evenly. “I trust her, and I told you earlier it was up to you whether or not you trust me,” you said. “Do you?”

“I do,” he said with conviction.

Your heart hammered in your chest for reasons that seemed to escape you. The sun was warm on your back but it was your face that felt hot. “Well, then,” you said, mounting Lucy behind Wriothesley and clearing your throat. You placed your hands behind you on Lucy’s flank, for lack of anywhere else to put them. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Lucy slowed to a stop in a wide field, dotted with cypress trees and boulders older than history and riotous, cool-toned blooms, swaying softly in the Fontaine breeze. You tilted your head back to the sky, smiling as you smelled the earth and the sea, the flowers and the salt.

“Come through here,” you said, pointing through a thicket crowned by indigo hydrangeas. You felt Wriothesley’s shoulders shift against you as he turned to look where you indicated. “It’s always been a favorite spot of mine to take a break.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, shifting to guide Lucy in the new direction. It hadn’t taken him long to relax. It had been rough at first — it took Lucy about as long to trust him as it had for him to trust her, walking along with an uncertain gait and the unfamiliar weight of two people on her back.

“Wow," he breathed as Lucy stepped between the brush, following a narrow path made by only her own hooves over the years, and into a small clearing — nestled between trees whose peaks were hidden by the glare of the afternoon sun and the tangle of their own branches, reaching far enough outward to provide a ring of shaded respite around a pool of dappled sunlight. The grass, slightly longer and less trodden than that which you'd just crossed, swayed in the coastal breeze, friendly and beckoning.

You breathed deeply, eyes falling shut for just a moment as you savored the tranquility you had always found when you crossed the blooming threshold into this sanctuary, no matter how many times you found yourself traveling back — unconsciously following a path so natural it felt etched into your heart.

It always felt like passing into another world. Another lifetime.

You let your eyes fall open again, exhaling slowly on a smile. “We can hitch Lucy just here.”

Lucy made her way over to the tree you'd indicated, familiar with your routine.

“She really is yours, huh?” he asked, running a gloved hand across her neck gently. The gesture looked much more natural now than it had barely an hour earlier.

"She’s my friend,” you corrected. You unfolded your arms from his waist, unsure of at which point they had found themselves wound there in the first place. It had to have been a while, as the muscles of your arms felt stiff and resisted you as you pulled away. You shifted your weight, swinging your left leg behind and lowering yourself back to the soft ground. “She doesn’t belong to anyone. Living beings cannot be owned."

Wriothesley hummed, a soft smile on his face as he patted Lucy’s snout fondly and dismounted. He turned away and walked over to a patch of grass just beneath a tree, the lush green soft and sun-dappled. He sat down roughly with a sigh, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. “Let’s lie down here for a little while.”

You smiled, amused, and walked over. “A nap in the grass?”

“Grass and sunlight are in short supply where I come from. And, come to think of it, naps.”

You laughed and lowered yourself down on the grass at his right, laying back with your ankles crossed. You flashed him your brightest smile. “Well, then, by all means.”

The quiet was as peaceful as it ever was. With your eyes closed, it was all too easy to let the rest of the world fall away; every worry, every uncertainty. All there was, and all there needed to be, was the wind in the grass, the birdsong overhead, and your oldest friend grazing not far away. The other company, while new, was… not unwelcome.

Sharing this peace with someone was rather nice, actually.

The man by your side didn't say a word for a long time.

"Is it everything you'd expected?" he asked finally.

Your eyes opened and you turned your head to look at Wriothesley. His eyes were still shut, their piercing blue hidden away from the world. His lashes were dark against his cheek, the crescent scar beneath them softer, less angry.

“What’s that?” you asked.

He cracked an eye open to look at you, that charming little dimple making a brief appearance on his cheek. "Our arrangement. It's been over a month now."

Had it really been so long? The summer always flew by, but you felt as though it had only been just yesterday that you had met Wriothesley at the debutante ball — all smirks and bluster and spontaneous, underhanded schemes. Wrio was, of course, still full of smirks and bluster and schemes, but in all the afternoons you had now spent together, you had come to see him for everything beyond those things — and all the secret spaces tucked in between, peeking through the cracks of his carefully constructed outward persona.

A persona you had been seeing much less of late.

It had become much too easy for you to fall into a routine with Wriothesley — an unorthodox rhythm that you found inexplicably... comfortable. Maybe even comforting. To know that he had a mask that he wore to protect what he held dear — a mask so similar to yours, with different colors and patterns to suit your respective needs, different fine-tuned expressions, but... made of the same material beneath the paint. Crafted by the same careful hands.

Maybe you had started removing your mask for him as much as he had for you. Candid chats over tea, clandestine smiles shared in a dark theater, raw physicality in the ring, all of it left little room for any masks at all.

And maybe a part of you now felt a little wrong taking a walk around the Fountain of Lucine without him on your arm. Found that the water glittered a little less without the blue of his eyes, the birds sounded a little off-key without the low thrum of his laughter, the flowers smelled a little less sweet without the nearly imperceptible fragrance of bergamot that seemed to cling to him.

You clenched your jaw. Grounded yourself with the way the grass felt beneath your palms.

The beautiful weather must be getting to you. Making you wax poetic.

All of that shouldn't matter. This was all a plot; a ruse. Pretend. The romance wasn't real.

But Wriothesley. He was real.

You remembered his question and breathed an embarrassed laugh, turning back to the canopy above. A small, crimson bird landed in the tree to your right, chirping the harmony to a song whose melody must have been playing elsewhere in the wood, out of your range.

“No.”

He made a noise vaguely like surprise. You could feel his eyes still on you. “How so?”

You thought for a moment, trying to find something that felt like the truth, but less serrated. Not as exposing.

It came to you more easily than you expected, simple and straightforward and uncomplicated.

Even if it wasn't the truth... it was a truth, and that was enough.

“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to like you,” you said plainly. “To... find a friend in you.”

There was a pause. Wriothesley lifted himself so he was propped up on his elbows. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't read. “A friend?”

You dug your nails into the dirt. “That’s what I said.”

He was still for long enough that you almost gave in to the urge to take it back, exchange that truth for one even further filed down, but then — his expression thawed into something new, something that was devastatingly warm. Open. You thought absently that you hoped to see that dimple again and that you wanted to choose just the right words in order to call it forth, but as soon as the thought hit you, you shoved it away somewhere safe. And private.

“That’s good to hear," he said as though he hadn't just turned your chest inside out.

You looked away, suddenly no longer able to continue watching his face. Emboldened by his response, his dizzying smile, you gave him another piece of the truth: "There have been few people in my life that I have allowed myself to trust as much as I have had to trust you in order for this to even work, and... you have not let me down yet. That counts for something.”

His fingers picked at the grass, his eyes watching the movement. His thumb worried at one blade in particular; enough to bend but not break it. “I’m honored,” he said quietly, eyes still stubbornly glued to his blade of grass. “Trust has been a rare commodity in my life, too. So I know what that's like."

You smiled ruefully, looking away. Inexplicably stung. “I believe that. Our peers do not inspire much confidence in the innate goodness of humanity.”

“Yours and mine,” Wriothesley agreed. A tiny blizzard burst into being between his fingers, freezing solid the singular blade of grass beneath his focus. He let his hand fall and turned his gaze back to you, quiet and thoughtful. “Why do you want to become a Champion Duelist?”

You tilted your head curiously. “You really want to know?" you asked. He nodded. "It’s an unoriginal story. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me.”

Your stomach flipped and you chose to table those words to consider later in the quiet of solitude, willfully pushing them aside and letting your mind wander in recollection — to the past, a place that was forever safe.

"I was saved by this strange man when I was a girl,” you started. “I'd been playing not far from here, as per usual disobeying my father’s orders ‘not to go far’." You unconsciously found your face turning in the direction of the memory with a wry smile, remembering the little girl with ribbons in her hair and dirt under her nails. Wriothesley followed the movement with a distant expression. You wondered what it was he saw. "As you might expect, a kid playing alone in expensive clothing attracted unwanted attention and I was cornered by a group of bandits. But then... this man came out of nowhere, sword drawn, and they were all gone before I even had a chance to wonder what was happening.

"I remember him tipping his hat to me and then I was chattering on about how much I loved the color of the feather in it. Such a vibrant blue. I was very young and didn’t understand much about what was going on; I don't even know if I knew to thank him. He escorted me back home. My father invited him for dinner, but he declined."

Wriothesley watched you quietly, eyes kind and curious. "And he was a Champion Duelist?"

"Naturally. I didn't find out until years later. I saw him at the Epiclese and stopped to thank him, for I hadn't all those years earlier. I’d have recognized him anywhere, especially with that beautiful blue feather. By that point, I recognized what that meant."

"And did he remember you?"

Your mouth curved into a smile at the memory. You shook your head. "No. He didn't."

Wriothesley's face fell. "...I'm sorry."

You cut him a small smile. "Don’t be," you said, turning back to the trees. "That was the moment I knew I wanted to do the same thing he did. He changed my life in a few short minutes. I will never forget what he did, not for the rest of my years. But for him? It was just another day. He was a hero just because that's who he was. It was just another day. That's who I want to be."

Wriothesley looked at you for a long moment, awed, then broke into a wide grin — eyes wrinkled at the corners and pinned on you, that little dimple making an appearance. You blinked at the brightness of him, finding yourself struck by just how beautiful he was and wondering if he had any idea at all of the power he had.

"I understand,” he said, his smile smaller but no less arresting, making your brain go blank with static.

You took a calming breath, willing yourself to look anywhere but him and failing, unsure if your grasp of language wouldn’t abandon you under the blinding light of that smile.

“Why did you get sent to the Fortress?” you asked without thinking, desperate to get the force of his attention off of you.

You regretted asking the moment the words left your mouth. You barely had time to mourn the loss of that smile as he exhaled a shaky laugh, laying flat back once more, hands folding behind his head. “You're asking a very difficult question.”

You winced. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer if you don’t want to,” you said quickly. "I just want to know where you come from, too."

He was quiet, scanning your face with a hard eye — an eye that almost seemed to simmer — and you fought not to fidget under his scrutiny. You wanted to withdraw the question, remind him again that he could just ignore it, but something stayed your hand and word.

Finally, Wriothesley sighed. Looked away. “I know,” he conceded quietly. “But it’s complicated.”

Ignoring the twinge of disappointment you felt, you followed his gaze. Nothing above but the canopy and the sun. You recognized a dead end when you saw one and hummed, sympathetic, hoping to diffuse the awkward energy. “At this point, I think ‘complicated’ is our area of expertise.”

Wriothesley huffed softly. “You might be right.” He went still for a moment. It had been long enough that you blinked in surprise when he finally spoke again. “I was young and… hurt. And I did things that I’m not proud of.”

Your mind buzzed. A thousand questions swirled around inside you, like koi in a crowded, turbulent pond, shifting and looping over, and over, and over one another. Tangled.

What did you do? What don't you want me to know? Who are you?

Why is your smile so sad?

"Do you regret it?” you asked instead.

He smiled — a heartbreaking reprise of the one that had so effortlessly stolen the breath from your lungs only a few minutes before. “Another difficult question,” he murmured. “...No. I know you want me to say that I regret it, but I don’t.”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” you said. “I’m just trying to know you a little better.”

“I know. It’s not something I’m used to.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” you said with a conspiratorial smile, willing away the clouds in your heart. “Getting you used to things you’re not used to?”

He laughed, and the rest of the somber atmosphere was carried away on the wind. The gloom, banished. He eased himself down once more, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his arm without touching it. He laced his fingers together over his stomach, inhaling the air of the thicket deeply. The curve of his mouth was tiny and fond, intimate, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“I haven’t done this since I was a boy,” he whispered, and you watched the rise and fall of his chest as he spoke. “Just lie in a field and breathe. I still remember the first time I came back to the overworld as a technically free man. I cried, you know.”

You turned so that you were lying on your side, your weight balanced on your left elbow, nestled into a tiny patch of dirt. You flicked the frozen blade of grass that still stood between you, firm and sparkling, resistant to the pull of the breeze. “You did?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, laughing, rough and gravelly and wonderful. “At first, it was because the sun was so... unfamiliar and too bright for my eyes. It burned. But I think that was just the excuse I needed to really let loose. I’ll never take the freedom of a nap in the sun for granted ever again.”

You smiled and closed your eyes and... breathed.

"For what it's worth," he said after a long while. "I was surprised to find a friend in you, too."

Later in the month, Wriothesley met you once more at your father’s stable, joining the already growing crowd of gentlemen, milling about in their gentlemanly vestments and chatting about gentlemanly things. Lucy stood by his side, as steadfast and loyal as if she’d known him all her life, and not just for the handful of riding lessons they had spent together.

Wriothesley looked almost the same as always, having left his preferred coat behind and opting for something more appropriate and comfortable for a late summer ride. The way his riding trousers fit him could have been described as... distracting. Perhaps even a riding hazard, depending upon who you asked.

Not you, of course.

He was fiddling with Lucy’s saddlebags as you walked around the horse to stare into the kind amber of her eyes. "Look after him for me, would you, Luce?"

She nickered softly, shaking out her mane. It sounded like an agreement.

Wriothesley rounded the corner, coming to your side with a winsome grin. "Lucy and I are good friends," he said with a wink, voice low. "We’ll look out for each other. Don’t worry."

"I'm not worried about her," you said flatly. "I'm worried about you forgetting all your etiquette lessons. What if you choose the wrong fork? What will the peerage say?"

He sniffed. "I'm sure my bungling of silverware selection today will be minimal. Plus, I had a great teacher — beautiful too, made it very hard to focus in class, but I will be fine."

"I'm sure you will,” you said, bumping into his side playfully. You knew he was nervous — knew that the tide of the vote happening in the near future might somewhat rest on the impression he makes today, and he very well knew that, too — but were relieved to see that whatever anxiety he felt he was keeping well under control. “Ride safely, Wrio. Knock 'em dead."

He returned the bump with a chuckle before mounting Lucy with practiced ease. Wriothesley had taken to equestrianism as it seemed he did to most things — like a fish to water.

"I'll see you later," Wriothesley called down to you as he and Lucy trotted over to join the rest of the group. You watched them go with a wave. He turned back just in time to offer one back.

"Hello, dear," came a voice from behind you.

You spun around to the source, smiling in relief once you saw the familiar, portly man standing in the shade of the stable, the reins of a stunning black mare in his hand. "Lord Paquette," you greeted with a polite nod. "Good to see you. I'm sure father will be pleased to have you along."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for anything," he said. He leaned to glance behind you, eyeing all the other attendees of the day's ride. His eyes slid back to you as he returned to his original place, rod-straight. "But I was hoping to steal you for a moment to discuss the business I mentioned the other day. If you have a moment."

Your eyebrows lifted, having almost forgotten the comment he’d made weeks ago now, regarding business — with you and not your father, you remembered again with a hint of confusion. You stepped aside to allow him past with a gesture of your arm. "Lead the way."

He nodded tightly and made his way out of the stable, leaving his mare behind as she kicked a bored hoof. You followed closely in Paquette’s wake, listening carefully for his scratchy baritone. He didn’t speak again until he had almost made half a rotation around the stable, coming to a stop beneath a sprawling cypress at the rear of the wooden structure.

He folded his arms behind his back. “I heard through the grapevine that you have aspirations of becoming a Champion Duelist,” he said as casually as though he were remarking upon the weather, robbing you of your ability to think. "Is that true?"

Your smothered your shock as soon as you felt it, instinctively slipping on the guise the Court so liked for you to wear, fitting it on as easily and comfortably as a well-worn pair of slippers. You schooled your face into an approximation of detachment, the picture of unimpressed boredom. "Where did you hear something like that?"

He scoffed, rolling small, brown eyes. "One of my staff,” he said wearily, as though he had the weight of Teyvat resting solely on his shoulders. “They do have a penchant for gossip, you know."

They did indeed. But how his staff had come to be in possession of such gossip evaded you. You and Wrio had been careful, excruciatingly careful, to ensure that both your clandestine training sessions and etiquette classes had stayed strictly out of the public eye and ear. To maintain the facade of a normal courtship, complete with all the expected bells and whistles — chaperones, public appearances, wistful dances, and all.

Clearly something had not been as airtight as you had previously thought.

You mastered yourself, not willing to give anything away.

Paquette peered at you knowingly. "No need to feel defensive, dear. I'm not here to criticize you. Quite the opposite, in fact, " Paquette said. He began to pace, fingers gripping each other tightly at his back. "I find myself dealing with a situation which is… sensitive in nature," he continued, brows narrowing in thought. "I have had stolen from me some documents which might create rather a... problem if they were to fall into the wrong hands."

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “Documents of what nature?”

“I’d like to keep that to myself," he said airily, brushing the question away with a dismissive hand. He came to a stop, turning his stare on you. "You understand how volatile things like this can be."

You did, though what 'things like this' entailed, you couldn't say. "And what could this possibly have to do with me, sir? I'm afraid I don't follow."

His voice was clipped, straightforward. Sharp eyes observed you coolly. "I'm offering you a chance to distinguish yourself," he said, taking a beat too long on each syllable, allowing each individual one the time to sink in.

Your eyes widened as the implication of what he was saying dawned on you and the suspicion in your gut was drowned out by surprise.

"You want me to fetch the documents,” you breathed.

“I do,” he confirmed. “They are in the hands of Treasure Hoarders, it seems. Your father and I have been friends for a very long time and I know that you can be trusted for your abilities, I hear, as well as your... discretion. And I do mean to stress the word 'discretion'. You are the hero who dispatches a troupe of meddlesome highwaymen, making the nation safer, and I have my belongings returned to me.”

You had gone utterly still. Your mind raced. “That can’t be all there is to this,” you said at last. Skeptical. “You’re asking me to risk my life for some paperwork and the chance to be recognized?”

"Well..." He paused, eyes darting between your own, narrowed in thought. “You're right,” he conceded after several seconds. “There is more. Though I was hesitant to discuss it here, due to our present company.”

"We currently have the benefit of privacy." You watched him carefully, weighing his words. “I’m listening.”

The look he gave you was hard and calculating. “I’m a good deal younger than your father, as you know, and we are both under no illusions that his time is unlimited. His health has been declining for a while now, hasn’t it?”

Your frowned, forgetting yourself. "What are you getting at?”

He held his hands out to you in surrender, a sympathetic tilt to his brow. “My apologies. Nothing nefarious, my lady. Merely pointing out a fact, one of which I am sure you are well aware. Your father has no heir and so your family will be thrown into chaos upon his passing. And I've noticed his... coughing seems to be occurring more often of late."

You swallowed, disliking the dread you fought so hard to suppress being thrown into your face so casually. It was true — your father's age had only played a small hand in his decline, and the wisp of a man had seemed only to continue fading in recent months, fits of breathlessness increasing in frequency and severity. It had pained you to watch, but you'd hoped...

"Of course, I can’t offer you any guarantees regarding the future of the Viscountcy of Vellerot and who will inherit the title after such a tragic event, but I can promise you this: if anything were to happen to your father before you and your sisters are situated, I will do everything in my power to keep you — and them — safe until such a time as you are," he said, taking a step closer. His eyes were piercing. "I'm offering time and sanctuary. That's what you want, isn't it? Security for your family?"

You began to pace, worrying a path parallel to the one he had previously tread, hoping that the movement would aid the turning of your mind as you considered his proposal and the creeping unease you felt. You wondered how much more he knew which he wasn't saying — what else his 'staff' may have gleaned. You had known the man forever, had spent many, many childhood afternoons playing tag around his estate with his son, and yet you were certain you had never said anything of the sort to him yourself; about your dreams, about your anxieties. Nothing. You would remember if you had. The people who were aware of such matters could be counted on one hand; you treated you and your family's futures with no small amount of care, to avoid giving anyone the gunpowder they'd need to eliminate you.

And they would eliminate you.

Paquette was right. Your family's land and title were highly coveted, and it was all-too-well-known that your father's days were numbered, his age and his health being what they were. When he was gone, whenever that day might be, only one thing was certain — there would be no shortage of vultures descending on the ruin of your family and only one would emerge victorious: the new Viscount of Vellerot.

As for the nature of the documents he was evidently so keen on protecting... You pondered what information they could possibly contain which would warrant such precautions. Such 'discretion'. You were afraid you did not want to know.

You continued to pace the ground, boots leaving layered, dusty prints on the dirt behind the stable, over and over and over one another. Your eyes flicked to Paquette. “This task is what I must do to ensure your protection for my sisters?”

“Oh, certainly I would do my best regardless. As a long-time friend of your family. However, you see... having those documents back safely where they belong would certainly help me to accomplish that, as having them elsewhere would surely threaten my position. Hence, this request.”

“Request,” you repeated. But you could read between the lines — you do this for me, and I do that for you.

"For you to do with as you will," he went on almost nonchalantly. He cocked his head, surveying you. "Though I did have other prospects to take on this job, I am giving the opportunity to you, as you are someone I trust. However, I would like to reiterate the need for your silence regarding the matter. I'd like only a very select few of my choosing be privy to the situation, so I'd appreciate if you kept this discussion to yourself. If you are to accept it, it would need to be a solo ordeal. These documents really are quite confidential, and I'd hate to think of the repercussions for my family if this were to get out. Surely you can understand the need to protect family, yes?"

You paused in your pacing as you heard your father on the opposite side of the stable call for everyone to gather, likely getting ready to depart. You turned to face Paquette, satisfied that your face would betray none of your thoughts.

"Thank you, Lord Paquette," you said with a small, vague smile and a curtsy. "I will consider your offer."

"No, thank you, dear," he said good-naturedly. "Do take care and let me know what you decide.”

He turned his back on you and made his way over to the group, waving a lazy hand over his shoulder.

He never turned to see your returning wave.

Wriothesley caught your eyes as Paquette returned to the group — raised a questioning eyebrow.

You smiled back, a reassurance, but you doubted it reached your eyes.

All things considered, the ride was going more smoothly than expected.

No one had yet called Wriothesley some horrible name or trudged up the past; hell, most of the men had been downright civil to him. More than that, Lucy was a magnificent animal. His hesitation — and he will call it hesitation, for he certainly had not been afraid — could not ever have been more misplaced when it had come to her. She was not only equally beautiful and powerful, but graceful and gentle as well. He had been enjoying his time with her immensely over the last weeks.

Wriothesley could see why the two of you got along so well.

He took a brief detour away from the main group to a nearby brook, allowing Lucy to have a drink of fresh water as a reward for all her hard work and patience. Many of the gentlemen had continued on, barely sparing Wriothesley a glance as he cut off from the group and down the gnarled trail to the water.

He was leading Lucy back to catch up to the main group when he was halted in his tracks by a low laugh that sent a chill skittering down spine, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Lucy shifted the weight on her hooves nervously at his side, seemingly equally disturbed by the sound. He placed a reassuring hand on the side of her neck and she settled.

“— Just like her father,” he heard a posh voice faintly through the brush, followed by tinny laughter. “... know what’s good for her.”

A second voice responded, slightly deeper and scratchy like aged tree bark. Just as unpleasant. Wriothesley couldn't make out what he said.

“— son will be looking for a woman soon, will he not?” said the first voice. “And while you have a wife to warm your bed, I..." — more muffled chatter Wriothesley couldn't make out — "...her to good use. Women do have one or two.”

The other barked an unsettling laugh, chilly and humorless.

Wriothesley’s blood went cold as he silenced his steps, focusing as much as he could on hearing their words as the passed on the parallel trail.

“A shame..." the voice faded off again before picking up volume as they got closer, easier to hear. "...a rebellious bitch, isn’t it? I daresay she could have her own good use or two if you could get her to behave for more than a few minutes.”

Wriothesley stood rooted in place, legs numb, fingers frozen, having nothing at all to do with the vision pulsing with icy fury at his back. He dared not look, but he easily identified one voice. The other was only distantly familiar.

That first, reedy voice belonged to Lord Thibeault. He would bet his life on it.

“You are certain she will bite?” asked the other man.

Thibeault made a noise that sounded like a considering hum. "You know what they say about hubris —”

The voices continued to fade as they continued back to the main party, but it was another few seconds before Wriothesley regained control of his limbs and followed, one thought screaming through his mind on repeat like a broken record in his gramophone.

Something wasn't right.

a/n: title from 'wild horses'—rolling stones

#wriothesley #wrio #wriothesley x reader #wrio x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #reader insert #reader inserts #lark.writes #🌊

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themistressdomme · 7 months ago

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Mommmyyyyy!!! Guess what? It’s my birthday today! Woo!

For the past couple of days, I’ve been really excited to tell you. I’m just a very shy person… I also am very self-conscious of my birthday. I’m working on self-love, but for some reason on my birthday I feel like I have to be even more behaved. I just go nonverbal… I feel like if I celebrate, it would look selfish. I’m just so used to working for others, I forgot to work for myself- oops! Even telling you this, feels like I’m being mean 😭.

What do you propose we do to celebrate? I’m just your silly little housewife… maybe a day where we’re all soft, reassuring… maybe some gentle, slow, and soft sex, where you praise me and tell me that I just don’t need to worry… ahhh, I’m helpless right now, mommy 🥺

Haaappy birrrrthday to yooooou~ Haaappy biiirthday to yooou~ Happy biiiiirthdaaaaay dearrrrrr Muuuuuugiiiii~ Haaaaaappy biiiiiiirthdayyy toooooo youuuuuuuuu!!!🎶~~~ Hip hip!! Hooray!!! Hip hip!! Hooray!!!

Oh my goodness! Happiest of birthdays, my Lav!!!! You're working on self-love, and I am so proud of you for that, love!! So proud! Always remember that you have absolutely no reason to be conscious that you might come across as selfish! After all, if there's one day that we all deserve to be tad bit selfish on, it's our birthday! 🤗 Keep going, keep trying your best to work on yourself! You deserve it most than other people, because you can care better for them when you are cared for by yourself!! 🥰

Oh, my darling little housewife. I'd make sure to spoil you rotten, hm? I'd send you out of the house for a couple of hours so that Mommy can decorate the entire place up for her special little doll. So many balloons (maybe even a balloon arch???), tassels on every single doorframe, and so many little presents hidden all over the house as a little scavenger hunt, perhaps? All for my special birthday girl 🥰

When you're done with that, we'll have a little candle-lit dinner, and Mommy would have tried her best to cook! If it's inedible, we shall order in 😅 I think you might not want to go to a fancy place out, since you say you're a little self-conscious of coming across as selfish, so let Mommy do everything for you at home, okay? I'd tell you how perfect you are as Mommy's little housewife; how proud I am of all that you have accomplished in your life, and how I am the luckiest person alive to have you be my home 🤗

After dinner, we'll get into a hot bath that I've drawn for us 🥰 There will be bubbles and petals floating in the water, and candles everywhere for my sweet thing. I'll get in first and extend a hand, helping you get in. We'll get settled, me behind you, and I'll run my hands softly all over your body, whispering in your ear how beautiful and perfect and gorgeous and pretty Mommy's little housewife is 😘 So many little kisses on your head. I'd remind you that today is all about you, and how Mommy wants to make it all about you, so no feeling guilty! 🥰

Maybe Mommy will get a little naughty in the bath, hm? After all, my hands will be roaming...

I'll wash your hair for you, if you want, and when we rinse off, I'll wrap you up in the fluffiest bath robe that I'd have gotten for you as part of your presents 😋

Then I'll lead you onto the bed. We can have soft cuddles in bed that eventually turn into the softest, gentlest, slow sex 🥰😘 Full of kissing and "good girl"s, and "you're doing so good for me"s. Anything for my birthday girl 😉

Happy birthday again, sweet angel! I hope you have an absolutely fantabulous day!!! 😘😘😘

#bd/sm blog #sapphic nsft #wlw ns/fw #wlw bd/sm #wlw nsft #lesbian #bd/sm community #bd/sm domme #lesbian nsft #answered #cinnamonsodaa

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what-gs-watching · 11 months ago

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"Why is no one having a good time? I specifically requested it."

Here’s a thing: my husband used to watch a ton of tv, all the time. Always had something on in the background. But then he got sucked into TikTok and his attention span broke, so I’ve been watching most things myself.

He just put together a snack to wind down from his work day, and came back in for a glass of milk. I’m on the couch and as he swished by he said “I just turned on Brooklyn Nine-Nine”, which in and of itself was surprising, only to continue “and remembered he’s dead…” and I let out a wail I’ve been mostly ignoring.

Andre Braugher, I’m so sad that you’re gone. Brooklyn Nine-Nine is one of my absolute favorite comfort shows, and I’m not sure how I’m going to stand it now, for a while. Captain Holt is iconic, you can’t watch that show and not fall in love with him.

And now it’s just…sad.

Nine-Nine is another one of those shows I started watching religiously while it was airing on cable, the entirety of the reason being Andy mother-effing Samberg. I have been in love with him (and the Lonely Island, which we should talk about eventually) since that crazy man joined SNL and so nothing was going to tear me away from his randon sitcom. I came for him, obviously, but I stayed for everyone else.

Including, and mostly, Captain Raymond Holt.

I’m not gonna lie, he might be the most realized, well-defined character on the show. The man has layers. Gay, black cop who finally becomes captain of his own squad. Deadly serious, married to a professor, proud dog dad, lover of rules, hard grudge-holder, extremely literal and blunt, with the weirdest sense of humor.

Most of the best moments of this show involve Holt. There’s an entire scene wherein the squad is put on the night shift and it’s fucking with everyone’s relationships and someone suggests his bad mood is because he needs to bone down with his husband. His reaction has me crying every single time.

He has a dance-off with a kid on the street. He goes undercover as a straight person and does it hilariously. He gets incredibly, heavily, disturbingly invested in the Halloween heist game Jake sets up each year. He creates a ridiculous balloon arch for a wedding and gets deeply attached to it, and is infuriated by the fact that everyone thinks it’s weird as hell. He has the most fantastic arch rival relationship with an old partner, to the point where he plans to deliver a scathing eulogy when she unexpectedly dies. He learns the choreography set to Salt ‘N Peppa’s “Push It” and performs it to distract Amy while she’s giving birth.

It feels like a lot of characters on tv are two-dimensional, but good lord, Holt was in full technicolor, and it’s obvious the reason it works so well is because Andre Braugher was a master of his craft. He WAS Holt, for a lot of people, including me. No one else could have stepped in and created that man.

Throughout the show, Jake treated him like a surrogate dad because his own father (lol at Bradley Whitford in that role) was a dumpster fire, and it was really sweet. He just wanted validation, and acceptance.

In the finale, he tells Jake, "On my first day here, I asked Jeffords to tell me about everyone, He told me you were a great detective, but the one thing you couldn’t figure out was how to grow up. Well, I think you’ve finally figured it out. Over the years, you’ve sometimes referred to me as something of a father figure, but I want you to know, if I had had a son, and he had turned out like you, I would be very proud of him.”

I have a dad of my own, he’s wonderful and I love him and we have a great relationship, but y’all, Holt can be a surrogate dad for me too. He can be one for everyone. He always had a pearl of wisdom and he supported the entire squad in absolutely everything, and he was just an excellent human. Who was FUNNY and multidimensional and just…dope.

He’s one of those perfect characters. And they don’t come along that often. So I guess the point is, thank you, Andre Braugher, for bringing him to life, and giving us the gift that is Captain Raymond Holt. I’m glad we still have him, even if we don’t have you.

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #captain holt #captain raymond holt #andre braugher #andy samberg #what g's watching #comfort show

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talkfastromance4 · 2 years ago

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A Roaring 2 Year Old--luke&lily oneshot

Word count: 1,123

Can’t believe our boy is 2! Next up will be Posy’s birthday and then finally introducing baby number 4! Any guesses on names for this one?😊

Enjoy!🩷

••••••

With Oliver’s birthday being on a Sunday, you and Luke decided to have his party the Saturday before. Lily didn’t go to Cory and Ella’s because she wanted to help decorate for the party, it was dinosaur themed. You hired decorators that Crystal recommended because it was too hard for you to do it all, your due date was looming closer and closer. Plus, Luke wouldn’t let you lift anything heavier than Oliver.

There was a big balloon arch and tiny dinosaurs decorated all over the house and patio. The food was dinosaur themed and you bought Oliver a cute little outfit that was navy blue with a cluster of dinosaurs all over. Oli was currently sitting on your bed playing with his toy keys while you were getting dressed. You got a shirt that says ‘mama-saurus’ on it and even though you got a triple large, the bottom part of your stomach still showed.

You’re on the brink of tears (you’re always more emotional this part of the pregnancy) as you face the mirror trying to secure the shirt when Luke walks in. He looks glorious with his black rimmed glasses and dinosaur button up (that has the first three undone) but he has a look of worry.

“What’s the matter?” he asks standing behind you in front of the mirror.

“It’s still not big enough!” you whine tugging on the fabric. “My stomach is showing and I though the ‘mama-saurus’ was cute but now I just look huge and I feel like a whale and I can’t see my feet–”

“Okay, okay, let’s turn away from the mirror for a second,” Luke shifts you around. He gives his crooked smile that you love and swipes at the tears on your cheeks. “It is a cute shirt. You look cute in it and no one will care if a bit of your belly is showing. You know why?”

You shake your head sniffling, Luke continues to wipe your tears as they come.

“Because our baby is in here,” he places his other hand on top of your belly. “I know you’re self-conscious but you don’t have to be, lovie.”

“I can’t help it,” you bump your head into his chest and he hugs you tightly.

“I know. Do you need to cry a little, to let it out?” he asks and you nod in his chest, your tears wetting his chest hair. The smell of his aftershave is comforting and the way his long fingers are stroking your back is making you feel better. “Mama’s okay, Oli.”

That makes you pick your head up and you look over at Oliver on your bed. His gaze is fixed on you and he keeps signing ‘mama hurt’ with a frown on his face.

“I’m not hurt, sweetie,” you smile wetly at your little boy. He grunts, his little face turning more into a pout of frustration and he signs ‘mama help.’ “No, I don’t need help.”

You disentangle yourself from Luke’s arms and sit on the bed, Oli climbs onto your lap. You brush his curls away from his forehead, fixing his glasses.

“Mama gets sad sometimes, that’s all.”

“He’s like his daddy,” Luke joins you on the bed. “We don’t like seeing you upset.”

“Thanks,” you sniff. “I’m okay now, I promise. Shall we go enjoy your party?” You direct your question to Oli and pinch his cheek affectionately.

“I’ll take him, you wash away your tears and meet us downstairs, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nod. He helps you up, gives you a sweet kiss and exits the room with your son.

You wash off your tears with cold water then freshen up your makeup, just a slight bit of foundation and some mascara. You purposefully ignore the mirror as you exit then are greeted by your family. Posy is occupied with the twins who are sitting on a blanket in the living room with a bunch of toys.

Posy loved spending time with her cousins and she made it her mission to be their assistant at their first birthday party a month ago. Michael and Crystal went all out (like they always do) by having it be a country farm party. There were red and white checkered tablecloths on all the tables with wildflowers in mason jars and signs of ‘two of a kind’ scattered about. It was fun to dress up in country garb and all the kids got their own personalized cowboy hats.

Lily was reading to Violetta on the couch and all of the adults were taking turns holding onto Oliver. Michael approached you first with a kiss on the cheek, he had on a snapback that resembled the mouth of a dinosaur.

“Oli was signing you were hurt, are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine, just pregnancy hormones taking over,” you nod in assurance.

“Good. Are you hungry? I think the pizzas will be arriving soon.”

“I’m starved.”

The rest of the day was relaxed as you spent time with each other. You and Luke didn’t really plan a full agenda for Oliver’s birthday. You snacked, you ate the pizza and then opened presents. You needed help to sit on the floor (with pillows behind your back) so you could open the gifts with Oliver. He got new clothes and toys and even a stuffed velociraptor.

“Like Blue from the movies!” Posy exclaimed from Ashton’s lap.

Oliver kept the dinosaur in his arms the rest of the night, even while he was eating into his dinosaur themed cake. You took a ton of pictures and videos. The thought of your stomach showing didn’t bother you the whole day.

When the party was over, all three kids took a bath and you watched The Land Before Time. Oliver ended up falling asleep tucked between his sisters on the couch.

“I can’t believe he’s two,” Luke says while you’re both laying in bed. An Adam Sandler movie is playing quietly on your tv.

“Me either. Posy will be six next month, and then Lily is going to be ten in October! How does time go so fast?” you shake your head in disbelief.

“I don’t know, lovie,” Luke murmurs. His hand rubs at your belly, a nightly ritual. “Seems like just yesterday I plucked up the nerve to talk to you at the coffee shop.”

“I’m so glad you did,” you grin.

“I can’t wait to meet this little bud,” he leans forward and kisses your belly and talks to your baby inside. “You’re coming into a world with so many people who love you so much already.”

He gets an excited kick in response. The pair of you laugh and Luke hums a little lullaby that lulls you to sleep.

#l&l #luke&lily universe #luke&lily #luke&lily fluff #dad!luke #luke hemmings writing

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sabraeal · 1 year ago

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Brewed With Intent, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 1: Attraction

“Well, I personally don’t see what the problem is.” There’s more shirt than Suzu when he shrugs; two layers at least that Shirayuki can count, and both of them wrinkle when he folds his arms across his chest. Defensive, like he expects her to grab him by one. Nervous, like she might be able to drag him over the counter that way. Or at least, like someone has tried. “You knew your order was ready, didn’t you?”

“It’s not that it wasn’t effective.” Hard to argue that when she’s already here, standing in Shidan’s shop, eager to avoid whatever he might cook up as a follow-up. “It’s just that the execution is lacking a little, um…”

The rotating display squeaks under Obi’s singular attention. “Soul?”

“Soul?” Suzu scoffs. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just send a…a cat! They’re way too high a consciousness to take to anything but the most advanced charms. Though” —one long-fingered hand raises, wrapping oh-too thoughtfully around his chin— “if I tweaked a few sigils, maybe a rat…?”

With a piercing squeal, the display’s tortured keens abruptly cease. It may be next to impossible to look at Obi, but by the tilt of his head, she knows his eyebrows must be scraping his hairline. “Bro. Vermin isn’t going to be an improvement on bird.”

“I thought pigeons were already considered—?”

“She’s not complaining about the genus, Suzu,” Yuzuri deadpans, one ear flicking at the precise rhythm Garrack's left eye used to, before— er, well, recent events. “It’s the method.”

“Really?” Suzu frowns, and to her dismay, turns it right on her. “Yuzuri did mention that she found its movements a little uncanny—”

“Gross,” she corrects with relish. “I called them gross.”

“—But I thought that if I tweaked a clause or two, I might be able to make it more bird-like.” He blinks down at her, more curious than concerned. “Do you think that might help?”

“Erm…” Her gaze doesn’t quite skitter over to Obi, but near enough that she can catch the encouraging arch of his eyebrows, the goading wave of his hands. “Maybe?”

Obi clucks his tongue. At her, she knows. It’s just— Suzu might be comfortable doling out cutting critique like her grandma did butter on bread, but ‘it’s an abomination’ is hardly constructive enough to be considered an objective review. “I don’t think Miss cares about how it moves. It’s that it’s moving at all.”

Suzu scratches absently at where his goggles dig a divot in his curls. “But how else would it get to you?”

Yuzuri sighs, long suffering. “How many times do I have to explain this? It’s dead, Suzu. No one wants it to ‘get to them.’ They want it to go away!”

“What are you talking about? My messengers are a stunning example of highly skilled charm work! Besides,” he adds, confidence leaking from him like helium from a balloon. “It’s the only way to get people to pick up their orders.”

Obi cocks his head, curious, like a cat. “Doordash has an app.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about a lack of soul—?”

“What about the coin?” Shirayuki blurts out, before she can think better of it. “That’s what the shop used to use, right? A coin that was spelled to glow?”

“Well, yeah, at one point. But metal is really more Shidan’s element, you know.” Suzu has all the height he needs to look down his nose at them naturally, but his chin takes a prideful tilt anyway, giving him an extra inch or two. “If I’m taking over order management, I've got to rely on my own talents. That’s what Shidan told me. Work with my own medium.”

Yuzuri cocks her head, ears splayed in annoyance. “And that medium just so happens to be dead stuff?”

“We can’t pick our natural proclivities,” he sniffs. “Besides, everyone always complained about the coin thing anyhow.”

Like most of the words Garrack said this morning, the answer to this is seared in her mind. “Easily lost?”

“See?” Suzu jabs out a hand. “Shirayuki gets it. No one’s going to lose a bird.”

Yuzuri throws up her hands. “A dead bird!”

“Listen, I’ll give you: no one’s gonna lose it.” Obi braces a hip against the counter. “But they are gonna run away.”

“What, why?” Suzu huffs. “It’s a bird, everyone loves birds!”

A strong stance to take in a city where Shirayuki has routinely watched commuters throw their purses at the pigeons perched at the bus stop. “Well, maybe that’s true, but ah…these ones talk.”

“Oh yeah.” Shirayuki doesn’t so much see Obi shiver as the air around him trembles, tracing goosebumps up her own arms. “Talk about nightmare fuel.”

“What’s wrong with the way it talks?” Suzu leans over the counter, all business now, face furrowed with stern curiosity. “Is there some sort of pitch change? Or maybe a slow down effect, or static—?”

“Oh, buddy.” A breath whistles through Obi’s teeth, pitying. “You wish it was something that simple.”

Suzu’s eyebrows disappear beneath the curtain of his curls. “What do you—?”

There’s a rustle and a clatter before the back door swings open, guided by Shidan’s hip before the rest of him bustles through, letting it swing back on its hinges. “All right then. Took a little bit of doing, and a couple of, er, spectacular failures—”

“He set his beard on fire,” Yuzuri mutters, “twice.”

“—But I think I managed to get something that’ll work.” He glances over at Obi, only for his eyes to skitter back over to the much safer harbors. “For your…special circumstances, I mean.”

Obi’s lips tug at a corner. “No explosions?”

“No.” Shidan attempts to meet his eyes, but only makes it to his shoulder before he shudders, retreating straight back to the counter. “None of that.”

Shirayuki can’t tell if Obi’s raising his eyebrows or furrowing them, but his whole body curves into a question over the counter, so— he’s curious. Maybe even impatient. “Well, hope it goes with my fit.”

A wooden box settles on the counter, a different grain than the polished oak it sits on. Shidan’s the one to slide the lid open, revealing a plush green cushion beneath, and on it—

“Oh,” she hums, surprised. “A necklace?”

It’s not anything fancy; no precious gems or rare metals. Just a thin slate of clear quartz a little smaller than her thumb hanging from a cord. Not Obi’s usual style— he’s more into leather wristbands and collars that look like they could come straight from the pet section of Fred Meyer, but there’s a quiver in his shoulders when he looks down, an expectant stillness in his casual lean. He likes it.

“I don’t often work with jewelry.” Shidan shuffles, almost nervous as she lifts it off its cushion, letting the crystal dangle from her fist. “Clockwork is really my wheelhouse, really. But after Suzu explained the lengths you all went through so Obi could use a smartphone…”

Shidan’s hardly closed his teeth around that last syllable before Obi’s whipped it out, a smooth screen wrapped in a thick rubber case. Lines bite deep into the silicone, straight rays and curving spirals, a sigil so complex it’d taken Suzu nearly five days to complete it. According to Yuzuri, he’d slept for nearly two straight days after, only rousing to shuffle to the bathroom before throwing himself back into mattress.

“I can drop this baby down the stairs and there’s not a scratch on it,” he informs Shidan proudly. “Just last week a genius loci tried to swallow it and I didn’t even lose service.”

By the way Shidan’s gaze cuts to her, he doesn’t miss the implication that Obi was inside it at the time. “It was in a sewer,” she adds, although she doubts context will take the concern out of his eyes. “Obi wasn’t to its, er, taste.”

“Ah, well,” he murmurs, faint. “Good thing I thought cogs and gears might not be very compatible with his…biological peculiarities. I see that might not have been a good fit lifestyle-wise either.”

“No,” she agrees, thinking of the last kelp forest he’d had to extract her from. That couldn’t have been more than a month ago, maybe two. And certainly not the first. Nor the last. “Our work doesn’t tend to be, ah…”

“Dry?” he offers, a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Definitely not.” Shirayuki tilts her hand, crystal tumbling against her knuckles, and ah— the light splits over it, a thousand tiny etchings shining gold. Air hisses through her teeth. “This is amazing, Shidan. We can’t have possibly paid you enough for this amount of—”

Care. Attention. A hundred thousands words that evaporate the moment he rubs at his neck, and she remembers Garrack doing the same. Garrack who had mouth marks all the way down past her collar and—

Ah, she’s just not going to think about what Shidan might be keeping beneath his. “Um, never mind.” Her cheeks heat as she drops it back in the box. “Just…thank you.”

“No need to stand around thanking me.” He lifts his chin, encouraging, “Try it out.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Oh! Are you, um…sure?”

Both his eyebrows lift. “No point being so grateful if you get all the way home and find out it doesn’t even work.”

“Or worse.” Yuzuri’s ears give a playful flick. “It turns him into a frog of something.”

Shidan glares at his apprentice. “It’s not going to turn him into a frog.”

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m sure the Emerald Lady didn’t think that nice scarf of hers would turn into a fireball either.” The chair she’s in isn’t built for lounging, but Yuzuri lifts her legs up over the arm of it anyway, somehow casual even though she can’t possibly fit. “Who knows what Obi’s body chemistry is gonna do to this thing.”

“No one is going to get turned into a frog. Or a fireball,” Shidan assures her. “It’s just…best to try it out in the shop, where I can work out the kinks, if there are any.”

“And where we have a fire extinguisher.” At Shidan’s glare, Suzu offers, “Just in case.”

“Thanks,” Obi says dryly. “Real vote of confidence, there.”

Suzu shrugs, nearly lost under the labyrinth of shirts. “Forewarned is forearmed. And also keeps our insurance premiums down.”

There’s a pause where Shirayuki waits for him to pick it up, to make some crack about fashion or disaster or both as he hooks it over his own head, but—

But instead Obi just stands there, shoulders half-hunched and…awkward. It might be hard for her to look directly at him, to overcome the overwhelming instinct to not see, but the problem has never been mutual— oh, no, he insists on keeping at least one eye on her at all times; just in case you get any ideas about windows, he’d say, too-sharp teeth flashing at the corner of her vision. But now he’s got his head turned, looking anywhere but at her, and she— she doesn’t like it. Not one bit. “Obi—?”

“Shirayuki,” Yuzuri hisses, ears pulling back. “Don’t be rude. You know that Obi can’t take what he’s not given.”

That’s not…strictly true. There’s been more than a few times she’s had to traipse back to the service counter at the store to return the contents of his pockets. Can’t help it, he’d sigh, still looking too proud of himself, I’m trickster-blooded. Can’t help causing a little chaos. Ryuu had once tried to tease out the logic of it, to try to understand how a little petty thievery wasn’t against even infernal rules, only to find himself in a quagmire of loopholes within loopholes, buried in fine print. Certainly a looser definition of ownership than she’d thought the Lower Courts would take.

But still, he wouldn’t steal anything from her. And not just because of who holds his contract.

“It’s yours,” she reminds him, staring at where the edge of his pockets cut across his wrists. “I had it made for you.”

Still, he doesn’t move. Nothing more than one of his too-many-eyelid blinks.

“Ah, that…” Shidan clears his throat. “I believe that by the ruling of the Lower Courts, a gift is the property of the giver until it is physically given. There might even be, er, formalities involved.”

It’s habit to glance at him, to meet his eyes and find the answer there, but—

They skitter away, like they always do, dread churning in her stomach and bile licking at the back of her throat. But not before she sees the tension in his hunched shoulders, in the contorted way he’s twisted his neck, baring it like a dog expecting a kick. “O-oh.”

Her fingers are numb, clumsy when she fumbles the cord from the box. Still, she manages to hook it around the first set of her knuckles, thrusting it out in the space between them. A smaller gap than she’d perceived, she realizes, when her hands have to haul up short to keep from crashing into his chest.

“Obi,” she breathes, watching the pendant tremble with the same rhythm as her fingertips. That’s how some divination works, she remembers. Sympathetic nerve twitches. “You…I mean, I think…you’ll have to bend down…?”

She can’t look at him, not directly, but even she can see the way his eyes blink wide. “Haah…right.”

He stoops, head jutting out awkwardly from his shoulders, baring the long, tanned column of his neck. Without his eyes on her, the soft animal that is her fear only quivers in her belly, letting her lean close enough to count vertebrae. It’s strange to see this much of his skin, for him to let himself be so…vulnerable. A strange heat gathers beneath her belly, scintillating like magic before a charm, and she swallows to keep her hands steady, to keep them from brushing through the bristle of his hair just to see what it feels like.

“I…” There’s no reason for her mouth to be so dry, or her cheeks to be this warm. “I…ah…bequeath this to you.”

The cord settles against the knob on his spine, shifting as he straightens, all six-foot-even of him. The crystal spins helplessly on its cord, settling against his chest. His skin, she realizes, his collar open just enough to let it lay flat against that smooth sliver of copper. His eyes settle on her again, and she feels that flutter of the soft animal in her, the one that feels his attention and longs to flee—

And then, suddenly, it doesn’t. Her fear curls right in on itself, and like a mouse in winter, settles in for a long nap.

Which leaves Obi right there in front of her. Visible, for once.

She hesitates. Why, she can’t say. It’s only—

“Miss?” Obi’s never sounded any less confident than cocky, and yet now his voice trembles, and she…she looks.

Even without being able to see him, there were things about Obi she knew. He was tall for one— taller than her, at least, even if he never thought that much of an achievement. Lean, but in the way gymnasts were, or the kids who played at doing parkour in the park. Skin that wouldn’t fit in even the broadest definition of white. Dark haired enough that she couldn’t tell if it was him using her brush or Ryuu. But now—

“Is the Asian thing because like, BTS is hot right now?” Suzu asks, never one to be constrained by social niceties. “Or is that…?”

“My dad.” His hand snakes up to his shoulder, squeezing. “At least, I think. The Lower Courts keep records, but…”

He shrugs. One shoulder, matching the slant of his mouth, casual and wry. Devil-may-care, some would say. It fits him the way his leather jacket does, clinging in all the right places, molding to his shape. Well-worn. Familiar.

Yuzuri gives him one good glance, boots to bristle, and hooks her hands around her hips. “Oh my god,” she groans, utterly dismayed. “You’re hot.”

There’s a shift when she says that, Obi’s stiff spine melting away so that he can slink up to the counter. Each vertebrae articulates like a cat prowling in the grass, pulling his proportions impossibly long, incredibly lean. “What’s the problem? I thought you liked eye candy.”

“Yeah, but I know you. Hot guys are like Monets” — Yuzuri holds up her hand, keeping him at a distance— “they only look good if you don’t know about all the mess.”

“I always thought that was sort of neat,” Suzu says. “The technique is part of the appreciation, you know.”

“Suzu, we already know you’re a good person or whatever,” she informs him, bored. “You don’t have to tell us.”

“What about you, Miss?” Obi arches back against the counter, languid as his grin. “What do you think?”

Her mouth works, trying to explain that she— that he—

His eyes crease, right at the corner, watching her with a fondness she’s always felt but never saw, and—

“I…” They’re gold. His eyes. So striking it’s an effort to look away. “I think we might need to get you a pair of sunglasses.”

#obiyukiweek23 #day 1 #obiyuki #snow white #akagami no shirayukihime #urban fantasy au #my fic #ans #did i plan for this to all be one scene? no #i had like two more scenes after this i thought i would get to #but having the gang all together was TOO FUN #and let me play in the shallow end of the worldbuilding pool #plus i just HAD to make that part where Shirayuki can see him SHINE #because oh that's gonna all be important later >:3c

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