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hispg · 1 month

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Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc: 2.8k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, male chauvinism, misogyny (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Chapter 7: Unforgettable

The sun was only just coming up, but you had already been awake for a long time. You weren't even allowed to sleep properly that day, after all, the bride had to get up early to prepare for the big occasion. The wedding.

You were surrounded by the queen's ladies, several seamstresses and other maids, some of whom you had never seen set foot in this castle.

In this preparation, no part of you was forgotten, you were adorned from head to toe, from the veil that covered your head to the delicate satin shoes that embellished your feet. Not even if you looked for a strand of hair out of place would you find one. You were dressed like a queen, a beauty so stunning that it could make anyone fall at your feet.

Everyone but the one you wanted.

When your eyes caught sight of yourself in the mirror, you could see every detail of your dress with the utmost clarity. The delicate silk, the lace seams that made sophisticated patterns, just by looking at it you could tell it was too expensive.

The jewelry that Leon had given you a few days ago was now all on you, from necklaces to earrings, or the crown that was on your head, which he had also chosen for you.

You were the bride, but you felt like a stranger in your own wedding, as if it wasn't yours, the intruder was you, the bride herself.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness." One of the maids said, looking at you with admiration.

You then smiled, a forced but beautiful smile, and thanked her with a nod of your head. You made a few more adjustments to your dress yourself. Until then, without realizing the queen's presence at the door, the lady looked at you from top to bottom.

"You look perfect, dear." She said in a velvety voice, approaching you.

Since the last 'disagreement' with the queen, she had been a little distant from you, but apparently everything had passed and she was acting as if nothing had happened. Maybe she just wants to make up.

"You're the perfect suitor for my son, that's why I chose you." She says, as if proud of the fact.

"Thank you, Your Grace." You say in a soft voice, keeping your smile.

She paused, coming up behind you and putting her hands on your shoulders.

Of course you knew your obligation as a woman, but hearing her say that she chose you as if you were just a pretty product on the shelf, didn't seem right.

"I imagine it wasn't easy." You say, trying to get into the same frame of mind as her.

She then nodded, gently adjusting a few details of your veil.

"It's hard to find someone who's worthy of being a prince's wife, it's not easy, being a good wife is a hard chore." She says, letting her fingers trace your necklace.

You gave her a sidelong glance, gathering all your respect, holding your tongue so as not to say something you might regret.

"I'm sure I'll be adequate." You replied politely.

"I'm sure of it, I can already imagine that you'll be able to liven up this castle. Especially when you start giving me heirs." That word sent shivers down your spine, not in a good way.

You always thought that having children would come from an act of passionate love, from those tenuous moments that formed between a couple. But it didn't take long for you to realize that it was just an obligation, and that sooner or later you would be forced to fulfill it.

"Are you already thinking of heirs, Majesty?" You murmured, thinking out loud and not realizing that you had said it out loud.

In a quiet response, she let her hands rest on your abdomen, as if she were seeing the prospect of a child in there.

"That's one of your main purposes, dear. To give my son heirs." You tried your best not to feel disgusted by the tone used, but the idea that you were just an object, destined to fulfill a role at court, was disturbing.

"I also depend on your son's will." You say, gently and firmly removing her hands from your body.

You knew what she was getting at with this manipulation.

"My son will not disappoint." She retorts, watching you support yourself on your heels and head for the exit of your room.

"No of course he won't, he already has." You say without thinking, sharp, harsh words slipping out of your mouth.

You only saw the queen change her expression, which at this point was no longer friendly, but had turned into a gray, angry expression. As if sent from heaven, Chris was charged with taking you to the carriage, and to your surprise he was already waiting for you at the door.

"Your Highness." He said with the same cutting smile as always, expecting you to accompany him.

And you did so without much thought, walking alongside him, trying to disguise the nervous look on your face

"Leon is already waiting for you at the cathedral." He says politely, helping you down the stairs.

"Oh, then we should hurry." You say, lifting up your dress so you can walk more quickly.

"We'll be there in time, don't worry." He assures you, holding your hand as you descend.

Once you had reached the main hall, you heard buzzing here and there, but you couldn't quite make it out. Until you focused your attention on a subject that was of great interest to you.

"I hear that Princess Ashley is very ill! She won't even be able to attend the wedding!" One of the maids commented to Ausdret, who was listening attentively.

"Get back to your duties, there's a lot to do!" Ausdret retorted, giving no room for any gossip to continue.

Ashley sick, a severe cold? Or some more serious illness? In fact, she'd have to be very ill not to attend such an event, or perhaps it's an excuse?

Chris certainly sensed your uncertainty, and promptly muttered, "It'll be fine. You look gorgeous, and so will the wedding."

You felt a small sense of relief, but it was enough to make you put your head together and think about the day ahead.

"Yes, it'll be fine." You murmured back to Chris, sounding more like something to you than to him.

In a cozy silence, he took you to the carriage waiting outside, where they were already waiting for you.

"Good luck, Your Highness." Chris whispers just for you to hear, giving you a gentle smile.

You nod, trying to force your best smile. Despite the storm in your heart, you needed to keep everything in order. Once you got into the luxurious carriage, you knew there was no turning back. And you had chosen that, now all you had to do was wait for the road to end and you would be at the altar, sealing an illusory commitment.

Once you got out of the carriage, you heard the trumpets sounding to announce your arrival, and that's when you began to walk calmly, always keeping your smile and elegance, your head held high as you were the target of the party's prying eyes. Your father was already waiting for you at the entrance to the cathedral, ready to take you down the aisle.

On the way to the altar, you didn't know if it was harder to walk in a dress that size or if the weight of your heart was more significant than that. When the trumpets stopped, all you could hear was the faint applause, the low murmurs here and there, which were so low that you couldn't identify what they were about.

The cathedral was packed, so many people there and you didn't even know half of them, but if they were there, they were certainly important people.

In the distance you could see your family, who smiled proudly at you, your mother with her eyes watering almost to the point of tears, and of course for her everything was perfect, and even if it wasn't, your family and his would act as if everything was a beautiful fairy tale.

Your walk down the aisle was soon marked by the orchestra, playing the standard wedding tune, the sounds echoing through the room as you this time took your focus off your family, and managed to spot your groom, waiting impatiently for you at the altar.

Hate him all you want, but he was breathtaking. Leon found himself wearing a black suit, his eupalette shining when the sun reflected off them, his hair slicked back in a style you hadn't seen him wear before. When you saw him return your gaze, you felt butterflies blooming in your stomach, your breath catching in your throat, causing you to hold the flowers in your hands tighter. He looked so beautiful, you could gasp just looking at him.

Step by step you finally reached the altar, making a small courtesy, and your father gave you a small blessing, and you promptly positioned yourself next to the prince. You were so close, so far apart, almost tying the knot, but still far from finding each other.

Once silence prevailed, the priest cleared his throat and looked at everyone, but specifically at the two of you.

"I appreciate everyone's presence for the celebration of this union. I request that you all take your places so that we can begin the ceremony." The priest said, looking at everyone seriously, but with a certain joy in his eyes.

"We are here today to initiate the union between two kingdoms, between two young lovers." The older man says, his attention focused on the pieces of paper on the lectern.

Who in the whole kingdom wouldn't be happy about such a union?

Everyone sits down and stares at the two of you, the youngest couple about to be married.

"We are here to witness, before God and the whole kingdom, the conjuncture and union between two royals, a prince and a princess, who will soon be our next majesties." Once again the priest spoke, this was his moment to speak, and he would make the importance of this union even clearer.

And then he looks up at the two of you, speaking seriously once again, " Matrimony is a sacred union, not to be broken by anything. The only plausible explanation for breaking that holy and sacred union, is death."

These words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn't help but swallow when you found yourself facing this situation. Only death could separate the two of you.

What could be a love story for any couple in love, for you, God forgive you, seemed to be more of a curse than anything else.

With a glance from the priest, you saw a girl approaching, carrying the rings on a small cushion. They were made of pure metal, shining so brightly that they were striking even from a distance. Yours had his name engraved on it, along with a diamond at the top.

Leon's ring, on the other hand, also had your name on it, but no stones or other adornments. This was the time to exchange vows, the moment when the two of you would make promises and promises of love.

Another girl came and gently took the bouquet of flowers from your hand, so that you could turn around and face Leon, and the two of you were staring at each other. And you didn't see a hint of love in Leon's eyes, maybe you found some emotion, and it was probably discontent.

Leon then took your hands in his, his warm, larger hands wrapped around yours, and you felt a sudden shiver at the small act.

"Do you promise, Leon Scott Kennedy, to take," he then spoke your name, "as your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor her and guard her, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as you both shall live?"

The silence was deafening, everything was quiet except for the sound of your heart beating in your ears, and at the slightest gesture, you squeezed his hand even harder.

At the same moment, you saw him press his lips together tightly, his emotions screaming inside him, the pain between having to seal an incorrigible path, put everything he once wanted to the test, override the desire to follow his heart.

With a certain apprehension, he picked up the ring, removed your gloves, and then slid the ring onto your ring finger.

"Yes… I promise." He says, without any conviction, for the first time you saw his gaze empty, but at the same time you could see the melancholy present there.

"Do you promise," the priest began, clearly speaking your full name before continuing, "to take Leon Scott Kennedy as your lawful wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor him and guard him, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as you both shall live?"

His hesitation to answer was an answer as clear as a thousand words.

But now his oath had been made, all that was left was for you.

With your mind working a thousand miles a minute, all you did was look deep into Leon's eyes, as if you were searching for something there, perhaps something to calm your nerves. But he was looking for the same thing in you, so you were both looking for solace, when you wouldn't have any.

When you saw the people looking at you with a certain astonishment, seeing that you were slow to respond, you also reached for the wedding ring that sealed the marriage, taking Leon's hand in yours as you placed the jewel on his finger.

"Yes, I promise." You said in a whisper, just giving the priest and Leon a chance to hear.

You could already hear some murmurs forming in the cathedral, but you couldn't make out what they were about. A request for silence from the priest was enough to stop all sound, and silence took over once again.

A sound of the priest cleaning his throat, was enough for you to come back to reality and stop staring at Leon, paying attention to what the priest had to say.

"In the sight of God and of people, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May this unification be full of fruits and joys, may it bring to our country what we need. And may you both be happy and blessed by God." For the first time you see the priest give the two of you a slight smile and then mutter:

"You must seal the union with a kiss." The phrase gave you butterflies in your stomach, and it didn't take more than a few seconds for Leon to bring his face close to yours.

At that moment, all you could feel was the blush rising to your cheeks, and everything around it disappeared once he locked his lips onto yours, gently placing a hand on your cheek to hold you in place.

You closed your eyes and let yourself be carried away by the sensation, your lips on his as you moved in sync, in a gentle and sweet way.

If everything was as sweet as this moment was being, then you would feel complete. But life is not a bed of roses.

Once you parted, you leaned your foreheads together, and listened to the various cheers and whistles you saw from everyone watching.

"I promise you'll be happy." Leon whispered to you, and you didn't know if it was worse that he was lying in front of God, or that you believed it so easily.

"I hope so." You reply with a weak smile, looking at him deeply.

When the two of you turned your faces away a little, you were faced with a crowd of emotional people looking at you. Some smiled, some cried, but everyone seemed to be happy for the two of you.

You knew it was far from over, you still had the reception, the ball, and the tedious conversations that would go on for endless minutes.

But since all these real commitments would be over before nightfall, you would soon be going on honeymoon with Leon.

A thought that would almost certainly be a dream for couples in love. But you didn't know whether to be apprehensive or disappointed, perhaps even intrigued. You'd be lying if you said that the idea of sleeping with him didn't make your knees weak.

In any case, when the two of you went on your honeymoon, you would indeed play your part as his wife. Something about that was strangely excoriating.

And when that happened, you were his, officially his.

You were his.

Oh, you were his.

Taglist: @gollumsmygel, @quemmysworld, @loveoverdosing, @delulusimps, @d3jecteddoll, @kennedyleyy, @acriixys, @deredvv, @luminehallowss

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon s kennedy #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut

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hearts4golbach · 27 days

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Hey can I request y/n surprising Billie at the Grammys? Thanks

Double-Winner.

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader.

a/n: sorry this is so short, i had no clue how to fulfill this tbh but i tried my best! hope you like it x

"bil, for the last time," I sighed heavily, "im not going to be able to make it. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

billie whined on the other end of the phone, "it's not the same, ma."

I continued packing my suitcase. "I know, babe, but you know I have a huge meeting that I can not miss."

she grumbled, "I know." I heard water running and movement. "Wish me luck." she muttered as she began to brush her teeth.

"i'll be manifesting for you," i joke, walking to the bathroom to prepare my toiletries. "You're going to win the grammy." i reassure her.

i could hear her take a deep breath and sigh. "Yeah, hopefully. i think i should go to bed, big day tomorrow." she cheesed.

"Alright," i say dramatically. "If you have to."

she made a kiss noise, "i love ya."

"i love you too. Text me when you're up." i kissed her back before she hung up.

i checked the time on my phone, silently thanking billie for hanging up at the perfect time. i zipped up my suitcase and threw on my slides before walking out of the house. i double-checked to make sure the door was walked before i drove off towards the airport.

the cool winter breeze caught me off guard as i stepped out of my warm car. i dreaded all of the airport security traffic. it took me forever to get through everything, but i had finally made it on the flight that would take me to surprise billie.

i found out 3 hours before she called me that the meeting was canceled, and i decided i was going to surprise her. i booked the fastest flight and sound one that was perfect. i was surprised it was still available.

i sat peacefully on the plane, drinking Sprite and eating the iconic honey roasted peanuts. of course, i spent the whole time worrying over billies' reactions. would she be mad that i lied to her? i pondered back and forth, defending each argument for yes and no over in my mind.

the loud, robotic sounding woman over the speakers awoke me from my sleep. i rushed to get off the plane as i only had 2 hours to make it in time to see billie. i went to the nearest airport restroom and changed into my stunning dress that i had been saving for a really special occasion. it was a long, ruby red silk slip dress. it had a slit in the right legs and was long enough to trail behind me. i had straightened my hair before i left, and it had managed to stay intact. i did quick but elegant makeup and called my Uber.

the wait for the Uber was spent getting cat called by older men while waiting for billie to text me back.

me: How's your morning going, babe? i miss you

billie ❤️: it's going good, just doing hair and make up

billie ❤️: you?

billie ❤️: i miss you sm mama

me: just been thinking about you

billie: i gotta go get dressed, text you after ❤️

me: sounds goood

the Uber arrived and took me to my hotel room, which i had to rush to get ready since i was running late.

i basically threw on the dress that complimented hers, so i had enough time for makeup. luckly, i didn't like to do heavy makeup.

whenever i was finally done, billie texted me.

billie ❤️: god everything reminds me of how much i wish you could be here.

billie ❤️: theres an extra seat at the table for some reason

me: hm thats weird, dont worry, though i have the live video pulled up right now

i lied as i climbed into the Uber. i told the man my destination, and he began driving. butterflies were building up, and i couldn't wait to see her reaction.

i made it right in time, making it in time for the music related awards. i chatted with Lizzie Grant, one of my favorite music artists, as i waited for billie to leave the table so i could sneak in.

whenever they finally announced the first award for "what was i made for?" she got up and walked onto the stage.

i slid into my seat quietly, waving to finneas and claudia, who were in on the surprise.

i admired billie on stage. i was so proud of her. I couldn't contain it. a stupid smile spread on my face as i saw her bright smile on stage.

"Thank you so much. i really couldn't have done it without y/n and finneas. i love you too, and im so sorry you couldn't be here, baby." she blew a kiss to the camera, which i knew there'd be edits of later on.

she walked back, thanking all the people who congratulated her as she walked by.

she was only a few feet away whenever she made eye contact with me. her face lit up, and her smile grew. she ran towards me, pulling me out of my chair and capturing me in a tight hug. she peppered my face in kisses before finally meeting my lips. she held her lips on mine, and i didn't want her to pull away.

"You actually made it!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"How could i miss it?! my meeting got rescheduled, but i was planning on surprising you anyway. so everything worked out in the end." i explained.

"When did you get here?" she asked, her smile never fading.

"literally 2 and a half hours ago." i laughed, my arms snaking around her neck. "im so proud of you, bil."

"Thank you, mama." she pecked my lips once more, "i love you."

"i love you more." i smiled, "youre amazing. you deserve this so much."

billie went on to win another grammy. needless to say, we celebrated a lot that night.

#fanfiction #fanfic #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #fluff #grammys #what was i made for #happier than ever #when we all fall asleep where do we go #dont smile at me #hearts4golbach

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shiny-jr · 9 months

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how to steal a heart (I)

[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader.

- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?

IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .

Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view.

The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already.

A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?”

Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors.

“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?”

Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her.

Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?”

Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!”

The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town.

In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining?

Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be––

“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!”

“Reyes?!”

“Where? I don’t see it!”

“There! Over the hill!”

Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious.

In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior.

Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down.

Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.

Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors.

Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week!

The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day.

Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string.

The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them.

The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won.

While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing.

It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own.

Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved.

Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point…

By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags.

As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.

Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here.

Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall.

The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?”

A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie.

The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity.

As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.”

Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?”

This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.”

Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.”

It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well.

In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time.

“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.

#yandere #yandere guy #yandere story #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #how to steal a heart

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urfavleo777 · 5 months

Text

warnings: a mention of death, loneliness, depression. soundtrack: last christmas, santa baby, let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!

this is part 1.

The day before Christmas 10:15 PM

"Oh, thank you so much, Y/n," your boss said warmly. A few strands fell onto her narrow shoulders, caressing the fabric of her burgundy sweater. She was no more than sixty but with her class she would still beat most of the modern supermodels.

You've been working at Josephine's shop since November with the main goal of earning extra money for your college. You needed it to pay for your college tuition. Before, your financial situation was making you suffer. You no longer had any hope. You were even close to dropping out of college. But then Josephine appeared, looking for an employee for her Christmas store. After a very long period of poverty you could finally afford a nutritious meal during the day.

Your previous boss didn't treat you right. He was behind in paying you money, he didn't respect the fact that you had studies outside of work, and there were times when he was verbally violent towards you.

Josephine was always understanding towards you and took an extremely sensible approach to mental health. She assured you many times that if you felt unwell, she would immediately offer you a break from work for a few days. You tried not to take advantage of her kindness, so at ten o'clock in the morning you diligently fulfilled your duties in the Christmas store.

Today was quite… different. It was Friday evening and instead of enjoying your free time in your small apartment, Josephine asked you to take over the duties until midnight.

"I have so much mess to clean up at home, and tomorrow is the day. If you said no, I would probably have let all my grandchildren down. Last year I promised them I will bake cupcakes for the next Christmas. They were so excited and happy about it…"

You giggled at her adorable confession.

"No problem, I swear," you assured her, but the woman didn't seem fully convinced. "Josephine, I don't mind staying here for a bit longer. It helps me to relieve stress a lot."

Josephine pursed her lips. Then she straightened her slightly hunched back and whispered with a soft smile on her face:

"Your soul is so pure. Your parents must be so proud of you."

At the sound of these words, spoken with surprising lightness, you immediately stiffened.

Parents, a thought crossed your mind.

Right. She couldn't know.

You brushed strands of long hair from your cheek, smiling awkwardly. Josephine started looking chaotically for her purse. Once she found it, she hugged you and squeezed your hands. When you felt her warmth in your hands, you froze. No one has ever given you as much love as Josephine did in that moment.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, but I really have to go. I'll make it up to you!" She turned and started towards the exit. When the door opened, frosty night air rushed in. An old guy walked in, passing your boss, but you didn't pay attention to him. Instead, you looked in Josephine's green eyes for the last time. She lowered her voice a bit, continuing. "Merry Christmas, Y/n."

Oh, no one in this world knew how much you hated those words. You swallowed loudly, pushing away the feeling of sadness with all your strength. The sight of the smile on the woman's face made you feel a knot in your stomach.

"Merry Christmas, Josephine," you replied, trying to reciprocate this warm gesture. After a moment, you realized that you had said it to yourself. Josephine was already gone. Now in the room, there was only you and an older customer, probably looking around for gifts for his loved ones.

11:55 PM

"Uh, is anybody there?"

You caught yourself falling asleep, but the stranger's nervous and deep voice woke you up.

You looked up from the till and saw an older man standing in front of you. His white beanie and fluffy Christmas sweater definitely caught your attention. You rubbed your eyes and was about to laugh when you realized how thin he was dressed. Okay, maybe he wasn't that old.

It seemed like he had arrived by car, because no one would wear just a sweater in a snowstorm like that. Before you could respond, the man overtook you.

"Okay, okay. I know you're about to close, but listen to me. This case is extremely serious. I drove all over town and, damn it! All Christmas shops are already closed! Can you help me choose the gifts? If you don't help me, I will be.."

You raised an eyebrow, trying your best not to smile. He got stuck in his little speech, but you had no idea why. Instead of continuing, he lost himself in your gaze, completely ignoring the ticking of the clock behind you. His mouth hung open slightly and his eyes which were already almost black seemed to darken as he focused on you. His body went rigid as he searched your eyes. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He was beautiful. You had never thought of a guy as beautiful, and it was strange. It was strange how he seemed to be looking right into your soul. But you didn't mind. No, you didn't care at all.

Or.. maybe a little bit.

In fact, you were the one who jumped back like someone had burned you when you realized it was almost time to close the shop.

"You must leave this store. Now."

"Huh?" he frowned, distracted. It took a while for it to dawn on him. "No! You can't do this to me."

You took the key out of the locker and were in the process of closing the cash register. Shit. Nobody taught you how to do that. That was always Josephine's responsibility and she was the one who always closed the shop. The man looked at you strangely. You decided to pretend you knew what you were doing.

"Do you even work here?" he mocked.

You felt his eyes on you and you clenched your jaw. You glanced up to tell him to piss off, but then your eyes met and the feeling of anger melted away. His eyes were widened slightly as you looked at him curiously. He felt the nerves radiating off of you. You shot him a tight lipped smile and you felt himself smile back. Fuck.

"Shit," you cussed under your breath. "I have to close the shop now."

You were still struggling to close the cash register.

"I'll help you close it," he muttered, still staring at you but you were too tired to even notice. "I've dealt with this before, too."

"And why should I believe you? Maybe you are some kind of thief? "

11:58. Fuck. The time was passing.

"I am not a thief."

"And why should I believe you?" you repeated the question once again.

"Just google my name," he sighed a little tiredly. You blinked your eyes twice, not knowing what he meant. "Let me buy something for my parents and I'll do whatever you want."

When you heard parents, you forgot what he had just told you. You were definitely traumatized or triggered by the word "parents", which was usually noticeable by the sudden change in your behavior.

Your soft breaths echoed through the whole Christmas shop. You lowered your head, completely embarrassing yourself in front of the potential client. It was the second time today. At least you didn't have to explain yourself to Josephine because you were able to mask it before.

"Please, don't hurt him." Y/n cried. "Please, I can't lose him too."

[…]

"Don't take loans on the black market, or you'll end up just like them."

[…]

"I'm completely alone."

[…]

"Shit, are you okay?"

You looked up, grimace on your face as the tall body of a man came into view. He looked concerned as he crouched down before you. His dark eyes searched for any indication you were in pain and when he saw you weren't he held out his hand for you to take.

"I'm okay," you nodded. "What am I doing on the floor?"

"I saw you fall," he said, as he lifted you up. You brushed the dust and dirt from your jeans. "Does it hurt?"

"No," you shook her head, still stunned. "Not much anyways."

"You hit the ground pretty hard," he frowned. "Maybe you should get yourself checked out."

You let out a forced laugh and he raised a brow. "Honestly, I'm good."

He nodded his head, eyes narrowed slightly before sighing. "Let me take care of you. Need a ride?"

God, just a few seconds ago he was using his all strength to buy something for his parents. Unless..

"Show me your pockets."

"What?" he frowned. He tried to find some clue in your eyes. "You think I stole something?"

God, he was atleast a foot taller than you were and you had to crane your neck to look at him.

"Well, seems like I have no choice," he shrugged.

The two of you fell silent, it wasn't awkward but neither knew what to say. He emptied all his pockets, the only things he had were his phone and his bank card.

You wanted to sink into the ground.

This stranger just offered to help you and you thought he was a thief. You tilted your head back, thinking about your next move.

You sighed, knowing exactly what you should do.

"Take it."

You handed him a matching sweaters that you assumed should be for his parents. He sighed in relief.

He was about to take out his card to pay, but you placed your hand on his, trying to making him understand that he doesn't have to pay.

"Just close the till, please." You smiled, feeling a bit better now. "And make your loved ones happy."

"No," he refused quickly "I have to pay for it. There is nothing for free."

It took a while to convince him not to pay. He finally sighed and accepted the two wrapped gifts from you. After he closed the till, he offered you a ride once again.

"Why don't you introduce yourself first?"

You were just leaving the store. It was cold. That was perhaps the understatement of the century. You couldn't remember the last time you had been so cold: the spiteful wind sliced through you like a sharpened blade, leaving a chill that shook you to your very core, and you tightened the thick scarf around you neck, pulling it up over your mouth. You locked the door and both went away, looking for his car, which wasn't parked that far away.

"It's strange that you don't know me."

"Woah, so you're kind of celebrity?" you laughed loudly. "You've got a big ego, man."

You finally reached his car. You didn't even notice the color because it was too dark and the car itself was covered in snow. But it didn't matter.

"Oh, that's very kind of you. Thank you." You said surprised as he opened the car door for you. He gave you a small smile. You took the front passenger seat. When you heard the sound of the trunk being closed, you realized that he must have been putting the gifts in there. You saw him through the snow-covered window. His hair was messy, and his sweater was slightly damp from the snow. His pink cheeks totally stole your heart. He looked like a little child after playing in the snow for several hours

"I'm Y/n," you spoke up as he appeared next to you. He clicked the heat button, smiling to himself. "Normal people usually say their name after my introduction."

"Who said I was normal?" you rolled your eyes before bursting out laughing again.

"You've got a beautiful name," he said, starting the car. "You can just call me Colby."

His eyes found yours and he smiled brightly. Your tiredness melted away instantly and you grinned back at him.

"Colby," you whispered to yourself.

"Hm?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. After a moment you could feel the relaxing warmth.

"Uhm," you cleared your throat. "You've got a beautiful name, too."

The corners of your mouth turned upwards. Eventually you stopped having everything under control. It was inexplicable. Every word this boy said aroused some emotion in you. It was strange because you two had just met.

He wanted to know more about you, every single thing. What you like, what you love. A twisted smile formed on his face. As he continued to steal glances at a female, who remained clueless about his mind.

You glanced out the car window, trying to see anything but darkness. Thanks to the car lights, you could have noticed that the streets were empty, not a person in sight that late, not even the stray dog walker or person who decided to go for a late night walk or run. Cars passed by from time to time, but there weren't many of them.

"Not a single soul." Colby sighed, a dreamy smile on his face as he looked down on the road. You nodded, stifling a yawn.

"I bet most of them are washing windows now," you whined, making him chuckle. "Can you take me to the nearest gas station? It's not far from home."

You noticed a slight disappointment on his face, which he quickly masked.

"Yeah, sure."

For a moment there was silence, and you took the opportunity to organize your thoughts. You wondered if you should start a conversation about what happened at the store. You were sure Colby had been thinking about it the whole time, but he didn't want to be too insightful. Even if he asked about your past, you wouldn't know what to answer him. That your parents owed a debt to evil people and died for not paying it off?

You squeezed your eyes shut at the thought. You stared at the moon, trying to calm your thoughts. Then you took a moment to appreciate that wonderful, breathtaking boy next to you. You looked at him in some kind of admiration. He was so beautiful that you were about to cry. You were so close to burying your hand in his messy hair, but it took all of your strength to hold back. A smirk formed on his face as he noticed you staring at his facial features. Instead of laughing at you, he simply changed the topic.

"How do you spend Christmas?"

"Hm?" you muttered, your voice still laced with sleep.

Colby raised his eyebrows at you. "You got a Christmas tree?"

You looked up at him and were torn between telling him the truth or lying.

"I spend Christmas alone. I don't have, I don't have anyone around me with whom I could share this evening. Also, Christmas are overrated. "

"I can help," he said, the words dropping out before he could think about them. Ordinarily, he calculated his sentences, sometimes spending hours or even days thinking about how he would word something, whether it was an email to a friend or a hypothetical debate. But there was no time for that now, the dilemma thrust right into his face with no escape route.

"What?" You swallowed.

"I can help you," he said. "You shouldn't be alone in this time. If you let me, I'd love to invite you to dinner with my p—. " he stopped mid-sentence. You felt like crying. No one in your life has ever shown you as much love as this man. Okay, maybe except Josephine.

"You don't mean that," you said quietly.

"I do," he said, a little more confidence in his voice now. "Let me help. I'll do anything. You shouldn't be alone. You can't be alone. Can I help?"

A faint smile grew over your lips and you nodded, colour rising to your cheeks as your smile grew. "Thank you. But your family-"

"Oh, they will be delighted to meet you."

He seemed nice enough, you thought, and there were surely worse ways to spend the next couple of hours than accepting his helping hand: you could take your mind off the solitude and maybe even make a friend.

But nothing could help you forget your past.

To Be Continued.

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deepcolorobserver · 7 months

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I really want a terf lesbian to coax me into detransitioning

At first she pretends to support me and my transition, pretends to be a trans ally, says all the right things to befriend me and we hit it off. She's cute, funny, and for a while we're just friends.

We flirt a bit, always silly and joking and friendly. The kind of thing close friends do, until one day she admits she sees me as more than a friend. And god it's exciting, it's exhilarating, it makes my heart flutter. Who cares that she's a lesbian, maybe I'm the exception. Someone she likes enough to look past conventional desire.

So we start dating, a casual fling, but the sexting is HOT. She doesn't use preferred terms for my anatomy, always says clit instead of tdick, always asks for tit pics, but it's okay, a lot of the transmasc terms are a little clunky in dirty talk anyway.

She tells me I would look good with long hair. Men can have long hair right? I would be so pretty, such a pretty boy, so I grow it out for her. My hairline starts receeding on T and I'm worried about it, I confide in her, and she suggests stopping T. I got the changes I wanted, right? It's better that I don't hate myself for the changes I don't want, and she's right, even if she says it's mutilating me now. So I stop.

The whole relationship has been digital, and we talk a lot about meeting in person. Joking around, of course, neither of us have plane ticket money. But one day she asks for pictures in panties and a bra. I don't own those anymore, so she offers to buy me a pair. It's not feminizing, and I'm into degradation, she says. Men in lingerie can be degrading, and it would suit me. So I agree, because the idea is kinda hot, and I dress up for her. She's right, it is hot, even if it feels so wrong.

Slowly, she starts to introduce terf rhetoric to me. Very subtly, starting with ideas I can agree with and pushing more extreme views onto me. It makes me hate myself, of course, for transitioning and living as a man. There are lesbians that use he/him, she tells me. And if I were a lesbian, we could make "I'm in lesbians with you" jokes. The rhetoric swims in my head. I'm a lesbian, yeah. I still identify as a man, for a while.

One day it comes to light that we live in the same city. We can meet up easily. And it's like a revelation, a sudden flip. I'm with her almost every day, I'll stay over several nights at a time. Always in the lingerie she keeps buying me. I'm wearing it all day, wearing it to work, just so she can take off my clothes and see it when I get to her place. It's not long before we move in together. She calls me girly pet names, things you would never call your boyfriend. And the wrong feeling, all it does is turn me on and endear me to her.

The day I bring up top surgery, she spends a very long time sucking on my tits, kissing them all over. Don't do it, she tells me. I look so good like this. It compliments my body type, I'm meant to have tits. She makes me say it, say I love my tits. She makes me say that I love my pussy, I love all the things that make me feminine. I'm crying as I say it, but I tell her I think I might be a girl. She says I always was, and always will be. My biology was made with a purpose, and I'm meant to be a woman. I ask her to use she/her pronouns, to use my dead name in bed. We scissor and I cum harder than I ever have, all because she uses my deadname. If it feels this good, how can it be wrong?

She misgenders me outside of bed anyway. Soon everyone is using my deadname and she/her. I'm so wet all the time. She takes my body every night and uses me to pleasure herself. She makes me cum while telling me what a beautiful woman I am.

She convinces me to get pregnant with a surrogate. We both want kids, and this is the only way to do it. The whole time she talks about how beautiful the process is, what a lovely woman I am, fulfilling my purpose. She holds my hand as I birth our child. I forget all about wanting to be a boy.

#detrans kink #ftm girl #ftm correctional therapy #ftm detrans kink #forced detrans #ftm lesbian #misgender me

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happy74827 · 29 days

Note

Can you make more Joe Goldberg? You did such aan amazing job on the first one that I NEED a second one. Just please consider. Thank. Love your fics btw 💖💖💖

Lily of the Valley

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Coffee might not be his favorite, but things can change when it involves a person like you.

WC: 659

Category: Fluff

Fortunately, I already had this small idea in mind for our lovely stalker man and this request really just put the icing on top of the cake. Hopefully it fulfills your needs 🙌 (also you’re too sweet… thank you so much for the kind words 💞)

『••✎••』

Coffee. The hard, hot, and bitter drink that is the reason many people get out of bed each day and the reason why some people stay up until the early hours of the morning. He never understood the appeal.

But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the smell of coffee beans roasting, the smell of fresh ground beans being poured into a filter, and the smell of the finished product. He didn't understand how something so bitter and disgusting could have such a calming and comforting smell.

Joe had been sitting in a booth in a coffee shop for the past few hours, watching the world outside go by, sipping a small mug of tea, and his current read, "The Woman In The Window" by A.J Finn, in front of him. His eyes were trained on the people going by, not really taking much of anything in. He was on autopilot, a default setting he slipped into whenever his mind was full of something else.

It was only when a waitress with a short, black pixie cut walked over to his table that his eyes come back into focus, and his thoughts began to slow down. She didn't look like she belonged in a coffee shop. With a long, floral dress, combat boots, and a cardigan, she was far too pretty and too interesting to be serving lattes. She was a rose in a garden full of daisies, a peacock among chickens.

Then, like a snap to reality, the sound of his name pulled him away from her and onto… you. The whole reason he was here in the first place.

If he thought the waitress was a rose, you were a whole bouquet.

"Jonathan! Are you going to order anything, or are you just going to keep sitting there, scaring all our other employees?" You said a laugh in your voice.

He hadn't even noticed the waitress had already left, and now, you were standing by the table, holding a coffee pot.

Yeah, he needs to stop letting his thoughts take over.

"No, no, I was just, uh, reading."

"Reading a book, or reading her?" You said, cocking your head to the side, indicating the waitress who had moved on to another table.

"Reading the book."

"Mhm, sure." You said, not at all convinced. God, he just wanted to kiss the smirk off your face. Those pretty lipstick-covered lips moving against his.

You shook your head, smiling.

"You want a muffin… or something? On the house, since you're a regular and all."

He looked down at the book again, then back up at you. Unlike the waitress, you were dressed for work in a black, collared shirt tucked into black pants and a black apron tied around your waist.

It told him a lot about you, like the fact that you were a rule follower organized. The other waitress played confidence to stand out. You wanted to blend in, but still, he noticed.

How could he not notice you?

"Sure."

"Blueberry, right? Your usual."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be back in a second."

You had just turned to leave before you spun on your heel and stopped.

"And, Jonathan,” you paused. "That book in your hands? Wonderful read."

As you walked away, he realized how his heart had started to beat faster, and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.

A bouquet? No, you were something far more rare and far more beautiful than that.

You were an orchid.

And when you returned with that perfectly shaped muffin and that award-winning smile, Joe decided this would be the last time he ever chased a woman. Because this one?

You?

It was as though you were a mix between all his past loves and yet someone entirely new.

You were that new orchid in the greenhouse, the lily of the valley, and he wanted to nurture you and make you grow.

It's time to stop blending in; he would bring you out to bloom.

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radykalny-feminizm · 2 months

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I hope one day you look at what you are now and are ashamed of it. I hope one day you become a better person. And I hope one day you become proud of getting out of this mindset, of this self destructive ideology. Once the Right is done with Trans people they'll come after Bisexuals next, then Gay and Lesbian people, then they'll force women back into the kitchen and strip away MORE rights. We do not have a chance unless we stand together, not torn apart.

You have no idea what you're talking about. I live in a country which was ruled by a far-right government for the last 8 years. Wanna guess who they've come after first and foremost? They've come after WOMEN. Abortion was banned. Women were insulted by right-wing men almost on a daily basis, as well as LGB people, who still have no right to get married here. Trans people, on the other hand, are able to undergo "gender affirming" surgeries and change their gender officially.

The Right has been coming after women and homosexual people years before even a concept of being trans was named.

And they do to this day. If you think that women and LGB people are somehow privileged and trans people are the only ones being oppressed then you're a fucking idiot.

So no, I won't stand together with people who think that my struggles and oppression are an identity one can just have or not have. I won't stand with people who think that women enjoy their position in the society bc hey, if they didn't, they could always transition! I won't stand with people who think WOMEN = long hair, makeup, dresses, being silly and cute, MEN = short hair, pants and actually having a personality. I won't stand with people who think that lesbians who don't like dicks are transphobic and therefore evil.

I used to be on your side. Now I'm not and I'll never be again. Because YOUR ideology is self-destructive. Y'all are literally undergoing dangerous, unnecessary surgeries to fulfill your fantasies. Y'all hate your bodies. There's nothing destructive with being a woman who accepts her sex and who cares about women's rights. I hope YOU will wake up one day.

#ask #i don't even know why i bothered explaining anything to a person who thinks that women and homosexual people are not oppressed #im so tired of y'alls stupidity you have no fucking idea #everyday i open this app and i wonder what the fuck happened to people #anyway #radfem #radical feminism #radfem safe #radblr #radfems do interact #feminism #radfems do touch #women's rights #women's liberation #adult human female #sex not gender #my oppression is not your identity #lgb #lgb drop the t

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silvershiningtarot · 9 months

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⛓️Pac 18+ Channeled Messages Of Your Life-Partner 🌹💋😝

Pile1:

🦋“Hey, Darling, How are you? I've been thinking about you for the past few weeks. Have you been thinking about me? I've missed you, baby, there are so many things I wanna do to you right now. But I can't I wouldn't wanna rush you. Or can I? Haha 😂, I know I am such a dork when it comes to you. Maybe, one day we’ll laugh about this. May I ask for your name? Every time I dream about you, I wake up almost getting close to asking for your name. But I never seem to get it before I wake up in the morning. I dreamed about our wedding day yesterday. You wanna know about it. It was about you walking down the aisle with your white long butterfly 🦋 dress. oh hell, you looked so beautiful. I never thought I'd seen so much beauty. I fell in love with you in that dream on our wedding day. But it was bullshit that was happening but we didn't pay any mind. All we had was each other. But my wack ass friend woke me up in that dream yesterday. Corny-ass. Anyways, baby, I see that you've been working on yourself. I am so proud of you. Do you remember our kiss? I remember we shared our little vows on our wedding day before my friend woke me up. I remember my vow to you. Wanna hear them? Okay, it goes like this. The moment I lay my eyes on you, I fell in love with you. I dreamt about having this special day with you. I know we had interruptions and had to through plenty of healing before we met. But I realize that you were my lucky star that shoots across the sky every time I looked up in the sky for you. Whenever I see a shooting star I think about you. That's so crazy. That was my vow to you. I couldn't remember the rest but that was it. The point is my love ❤️ don't give up on us. I know I haven't seen you in days. But I'm dreaming about you constantly. You are my wish fulfillment. I'm sending you my love, and healing energy to you.”

Pile 2

“🌹My little chocolate drop, how are you doing? Ugh, what are you ignoring me now? I know what you've been doing to yourself. You think I don't know. Shh 😯 I'll keep that thought between us. I know I'm an egotistical asshole but at least you know what you getting from me. So tell me something. What's blocking you from seeing me? Is it because I'm fucking around with another woman. Are you jealous? I can sense that you're jealous. Nah, I sense more than that. It is something else. Are you horny for me? I know I'm a handsome man, duh! I look at myself every day. But what's your excuse though? I've been waiting for you. Look just because I'm sleeping around doesn't mean I should be ignored. That's right I said it I SHOULDN'T BE IGNORED! So don't ignore it. I think that's rude unless you have a good explanation. You know I'm right. Anyways, I miss you. Yes, I am jealous too. That you ignore me so I get all in my head thinking that you only blocking me because you are thinking about someone else. Am I right? No! don't worry though I'll figure it out. Trust me, I know that I will. Look, baby, I may be an asshole but this douche over here can give you all the best way that any other man that you thinking about can give you. I know that for sure. Trust me I would know. But the point is can you at least talk to me? Before you make a harsh decision about me. I get all freaked out because of you. Yeah, I said it you make me soft. Mostly I'm a tough lover but you put this spell on my heart that makes me weak in a good way. But when you ditch me like that. That said pisses me off. I don't like that. Whatever I did I'm sorry. Please, talk to me again. Unblock on anywhere that case that is. Even if it is on social media. Please. Anyways, pay close attention to your dreams I'm coming in.”

Pile 3:

✨Ahh, there's my good luck charm 🧿🍀. I've been missing your voice, eyes, and especially, your body. Sorry, I know you hated it when guys talk about your body. But that's not the only thing that matters to me. What matters to me? Is that do you know how special you are? I mean I get a sense that you've been working on yourself quickly sometimes. Don’t swallow or focus on other people's demons that aren't your demons. Don't be afraid of demons either. They aren't here to hurt you. Trust me I won't let that happen of course. Whenever I dream about you it is hard for me to recognize your face. I'm sorry does that bother you? Because it does bother me. I wish that sometimes everything would come clear to me. Have you felt crazy sometimes? Like you tell someone about a dream you had with an amazing person but they give you such a confused look. God, I dislike that confused look. Sometimes my family gives those looks like I don't know what I'm talking about. My brother thinks I'm crazy because I'm dreaming about a woman I haven't even met yet. Or that will never come true. You don't think so right? That'll never come true😝. You're my good luck charm. Seriously, you are🤤. The second I close my eyes and I think about you good things happen for me. Just not meeting you yet. I have a little secret I wanna tell you. I go to a psychic and talk about you. She told me that you are close to more than I think you are. So if you are around the corner. Say wassup to me. Nah, I'm just kidding. I hope that we do meet. Muah 💋your one of my favorite person talk to because you don't think I'm crazy.”

Pile 4:

“😓My beloved, I'm not feeling too well. I'm sorry 💔 I've just been feeling drained and I got a bad headache. No, I'm not alright. I wish you were here to comfort me right now. I think that sometimes I get into my head a lot. I've got into a bad argument with a friend/family member of mine. It wasn't pretty I'm telling you it wasn't. Right now I don't want to talk about that. Tell me how was your week? Did you have a good time? I hope you did. Because if you didn't ugh. We can be each other's ear. I feel so lonely and so misunderstood. I don't know why but I feel so lost babe. Not just life but within myself. I get caught up in the lifestyle of life that I lose myself each and every time. I get so sad. I don't know what to do. That's why I felt so drained babe. Because this person hurt my feeling. I felt like nobody didn't have my back. So I felt like my back was in a corner. I'm sorry if I'm being a downer. Can I tell you something? When I was daydreaming about you I was able to see your face kinda. Until the drama happens. I can never give up on you like. For some reason, you are going to be someone important in my life. I can't wait for it to happen. So we can isolate ourselves away from everyone. I don't want to take you away from your family or friends but I just to let you know I'm a clingy person. Very Clingy. I wouldn't know how to let a person go. Sometimes. My ex thought I was a crazy type and I needed help but I don't care as long you like it then it's alright with me. Don't worry I'll get it under control I promise. See! I'm smiling right now. I felt so good talking to you. You are something special. I can't wait for you and I can't wait for you to meet. We are each other's destiny. It's coming I can feel it. I know you can too. Anyways, my beloved I love you too much, and good luck to you and I'm sending all my positive energy to you. Muah 💋💋💋✨🍀👐🏾”

#pac reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #fs pick a pile #tarot cards #pick a pile #divination readings #intuitive readings #love reading #pac reblog #tarotblr #daily tarot #welcome post #18+ content #18+ post #adult only

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whitedarkmoonflower · 10 months

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Prisoner Part 1

Part 1 – Sihtric x reader

Authors note: the idea for this fic came when I edited this screenshot from Season 5. It was not really an idea, just a feeling in the air that there was a story to be told and I just started writing not knowing where it will lead me.

Summary: Sihtric and Finan are sent to spy on Bebbanburg, but Sihtric gets distracted by an attractive widow and lands up caught and secured by the guards with no chances of escape.

Warnings: smut, 18+

Word Count: 3,887

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Getting caught and locked up in Bebbanburg’s fortress was definitely not part of the plan. Perhaps it wouldn’t have happened if Sihtric had stuck to the plan, but the temptation to catch a glimpse of the garrison and palisades from within the fortress was too strong to resist. The group of merchants traveling to Bebbanburg in wagons loaded with furs, spices, and fabrics seemed like the perfect disguise. Sihtric immediately noticed that one of the young women traveling with them couldn't take her eyes off him from the moment she saw him at the tavern in the village. Upon inquiring, Sihtric discovered that the young lady was a widow who continued her late husband's trade by selling silk and spices. It was a perfect opportunity. They were supposed to leave for Bebbanburg the following morning, and the fortress was a two-day ride away, so Sihtric had to act quickly.

"You'll see, I'll be back in a week," he confidently assured Finan.

"That's the most foolish idea I've ever heard," Finan responded, far from impressed by the new plan. "And what do you expect me to do if you don't return? What if you're caught?" he asked, growing frustrated.

"I won't be caught," Sihtric asserted, his confidence in his abilities as a spy, which he had already proven several times, unwavering.

Now he just had to convince the pretty little thing, who was casting lustful glances at him, to allow him to accompany the group of merchants to the fortress. Sihtric didn't anticipate it being a complicated task, as he positioned himself near the tavern's entrance, patiently waiting for the lady. He saw no reason why he couldn't combine pleasure with necessity. If getting inside Bebbanburg required to give a good hump to a pretty widow, he saw no reason not to seize the opportunity.

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Sihtric kicked the door shut behind you, his hands firmly holding you against his chest as he eagerly traced the contours of your body. His lips remained locked with yours, never breaking the passionate connection. Sihtric pressed you against the door, his hands slid down your thighs and started pushing your dress up, his hot lips moving down to your neck placing hungry kisses on their way.

“You are so beautiful, my lady!” he whispered in your ear, his voice husky yet soft, causing a shiver of anticipation to run down your spine. “Tell me, what do you want me to do?” Sihtric asked, catching you off guard with his question. It was the first time anyone had ever asked you that. In your experience, men could be divided into two types. There were those who didn’t care whether you enjoyed being with them or not, viewing women as mere objects meant to fulfil their desires before leaving them behind. You had learned to recognize and avoid them based on their behavior. Then there were the men who took pride in pleasing a woman, who liked knowing that you had enjoyed them. However, most of them were so confident in their ability to please you that they never even thought to ask what you desired. Some of them had been skilled lovers, but you quickly got bored of them, as they grew repetitive and too often sought your praise for their performance. So, you were pleasantly surprised by Sihtric's question, but truthfully, you weren't prepared for it. You hesitated for a moment, and suddenly, Sihtric took a half-step back from you, his hands let go of your hips letting your dress drop and went to your shoulders. His fingers softly trailed down your arms until he took hold of your palms and lifted them to his lips placing gentle kisses on your wrists.

“Was I too rush for you? Lady, if you are not sure you want this, please just say a word and I will stop,” his eyes searched yours, filled with questioning. This was entirely new experience for you. Such attentiveness was incredibly uncommon in your world, and you found it so sweet and arousing that it made you shiver in excitement, feeling a hot sensation building up in your lower stomach. You took a step closer to Sihtric, placed your hands on his neck and raised on your tiptoes to reach his lips, kissing him slowly but passionately. You bit his lower lip causing, Sihtric to moan quietly, and you instantly took advantage of his lips parting a bit to enter his mouth with your tongue and deepening the kiss, licking, and sucking at his tongue.

“If I were unsure of what I want, I would have never followed you here,” you smirked, pulling back to catch your breath. Sihtrics eyes darkened with lust and his hands were instantly back on your body, pressing you tightly to his chest, his fingers tracing your back down to your arse, squeezing it tightly only to slide up again caressing your contour. He moved his left hand to your breast, pinching it eagerly, while the other hand took hold of your neck and pulled your head closer to him. His lips were on your cleavage now, placing wet and sloppy kisses there, while his hands started to tug at the lances of your dress.

“Then tell me, what is it that you want, beauty” Sihtric whispered, “What can I do to please you?”

Your head was already spinning, and your pussy was throbbing in desperate need for him. His touch on your body was simultaneously harsh and gentle. His hands were big and rough. They were warrior’s hands used to swinging an axe or holding a sword, but his touch was incredibly gentle as he caressed and fondled your body with his fingertips.

“I want your tongue between my legs. I want you to lick me until I scream your name in pleasure and cum on your tongue,” you murmured in his ear, touching it with your lips, licking it teasingly and biting gently on his ear lip, “And then I want you to fill me with your cock and hump me hard and fast,” you continued and smile started spreading on your face as you heard loud moan escaping Sihtric’s lips desire consuming him at your words.

“Mmm, that is a delicious wish, my lady”, Sihtric chuckled licking his lips. He hastily pulled your dress over your head and dropped it on the floor. While you unfastened your underwear with your hands trembling in desire and anticipation, Sihtric pushed you against the door and sank down on his knees, his hands pulling your underwear to your ankles, so that you could easily step out of it. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he started to place wet, open-mouth kisses on your belly slowly sliding down toward your throbbing pussy. You tilted your head back, leaning heavily at the door, closed your eyes and spread your legs with a loud moan shivering in lust, desperately wanting to feel his tongue on your clit. You could feel his lips getting closer, placing a lingering kiss on your cunt and then with a soft moan his tongue finally slipped over your clit, spreading your folds and licking your pussy until it reached your entrance and then slid back to your clit. The sensation of absolute bliss washed over you, moaning in indescribable pleasure you slid you fingers into his hair and pulled hard on them, while your hips started to move against Sihtric’s tongue. Sihtric growled against your pussy. He certainly knew what he was doing as his wet tongue started to circle your clit with fast movements and his lips nipped and sucked at it.

“Oh yes, Sihtric! Yes, you are so damn good!” you whimpered as he continued licking and sucking your clit, while his fingers were pushing teasingly at your entrance. Your hips were already moving frantically against his tongue as he pushed his fingers deep into your soaked pussy, causing you to release a muffled scream, as he started to fuck you slowly with his fingers. Soft moans were escaping his lips telling you that he enjoyed every single bit of you in this moment and you felt you climax building up quickly.

“I am so close. Ahhh, Sihtric…,” you screamed his name as tears filled your eyes and you reached your high so intensive and strong as you had never felt before. Your thighs were trembling, your head was spinning and your whole body shaking while the waves of pleasure washed over you. Sihtric pulled out his fingers and his strong hands steadied you as you were about to lose your balance, while his tongue made the last slow laps around your clit. You looked down at him with half closed eyes, just to notice the lustful and satisfied smirk on his face as he watched you locking his gaze with yours. Sihtric raised to his feet and without waiting for your high to fade away completely, he grabbed you by your thighs and lifted you up wrapping your legs around his waist. You placed your hands on his shoulders and buried your fingers in his long and curly hair, your body still trembling. Sihtric carried you to the table in the middle of the room and seated you on it positioning himself between your legs. His lips crushed with yours in a passionate, hungry, and deep kiss, while his hands were hastily undoing his breaches. You drove his hands away and took over eagerly. As soon as they were loose enough you slid your hand in his breeches and pulled out his hard and leaking cock, stroking the full length of it and placing it directly at your entrance.

“Are you ready for your second wish?” Sihtric enquired, “Hard and fast?”

“As hard as you can,” you responded and gasped your breath taken away as Sihtric pushed in hard. He gazed at you with a questioning expression, but you just moaned in pleasure digging your nails into his back and enjoying how good his cock filled and stretched your completely soaked pussy. Feeling you adjusted to him, Sihtric slowly pulled almost completely out just to slam back into you harshly. You moaned again, making him fasten his pace, as he started to slam into you harder and deeper.

“Is it hard enough, my greedy lady?” he asked between his own moans of pleasure.

“More, give me more of you and faster,” you begged, leaning back until you were lying on the table surrendering to his lust and giving him the whole control. With a loud groan Sihtric placed your leg over his shoulder, took hold of your hips with his both hands and continued pounding into you, his breathing getting heavy as his own climax was building up. Despite the maddening pace he was not losing his eye contact with you.

“Are you still OK, sweety?” he asked with panting breath, “I don’t want to hurt you. You must tell me if it is too much for you,” he surprised you again with his attentiveness. His cock filled you up perfectly, brushing against your walls and you felt your high approaching fast.

“You are just perfect. Don’t stop… Oh, please just don’t stop. I am so close,” you whimpered looking in his big, mismatched eyes.

“I am close too. Goods… how good you feel! How well you take me… the whole of me…” Sihtric hissed, wetting his thumb with his tongue, and touching your clit. It was the final touch you needed, and you came again moaning loudly, your walls clenching around his cock, your body shaking and back arching against the wooden table. Sihtric followed you a moment later with a loud and hoarse groan. His thrusts became slower and gentler as he allowed you both to savour your highs and calm down. His breath came out in heavy pants as he leaned on the table for support, his eyes scanning every inch of your body. A satisfied smile formed on his face.

"You're incredible," he said, his strong arms pulling you up closer to him, wrapping around your shoulders, and pressing you tightly against his chest.

"You're amazing. I don't want you to leave. Can I accompany you to Bebbanburg?" Sihtric whispered, planting gentle kisses along your neck, collarbone, and back up again. "You're so beautiful and so good to me," he praised, his words intermingled with his affectionate kisses.

The question caught you off guard. A realization dawned upon you—apparently, the young warrior's interest in you extended beyond a good hump. He wanted to get into Bebbanburg and had chosen you as his entrance ticket. At first, you felt a sense of betrayal. But then, you couldn't deny that you hadn't been entirely honest with him either. It seemed both of you had missions to fulfil and were willing to do whatever it took to complete them. Moreover, you had thoroughly enjoyed him tonight as he had turned out to be a delightful distraction on your journey to Bebbanburg to spy for Constantin. There seemed to be no reason to deny yourself the company of this handsome and sweet young Dane. He wanted to get inside Bebbanburg? All right, if allowing him to this opportunity meant continuing to enjoy his good company in your bed for a bit longer, why not? Besides, you were curious about his mission in Bebbanburg as well.

You gazed up at him, a playful expression on your face, and planted a teasing kiss on his lips. "You think you were that good?" you playfully taunted him.

"Didn't you enjoy me? Wasn't I satisfying enough?" Sihtric responded, surprise and dismay evident in his voice. He had been so confident in his lovemaking that hearing the confusion in his voice made you smirk. Hell, he had been good, but you just didn't want to give in too easily.

"I don't know. I haven't made up my mind yet," you continued teasing, your fingertips lightly tracing his broad chest.

"But your sweet little mouth was saying something else just a minute ago," Sihtric countered, his thumb brushing against your lips before leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was gentle, in stark contrast to the intense, passionate, and rough kisses that had consumed your lips moments before. The tenderness of it made you moan with delight and surprise.

"I think I need a little more of you to be certain," you whispered in his ear, gently nibbling his earlobe. "At least a few more nights," you chuckled, and in that moment, he had his answer. You were taking him where he wanted to go.

The following day, Sihtric joined the merchants, weaving a fabricated tale about his desire to see the grand fortress by the sea. However, nobody was fooled. The flushed glances you exchanged, the tell-tale bruises on your neck, and Sihtric's lustful smiles were enough for everyone to understand the true reason behind his decision to accompany the group. Yet, you didn't mind. Cleverly disguising yourself as a wealthy widow had granted you much greater freedom of action, and now it was paying off.

The caravan moved at a slower pace than a lone rider normally would, granting you three whole nights to revel in the company of your newfound lover. Sihtric made sure not to disappoint you. You knew that when this will be over you were going to miss his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his kisses alternating between sweet and gentle, and rough and passionate, leaving you yearning for more, his confident touch on your skin and between your legs. He knew how to please a woman and were eager to showcase his expertise, and you were more than eager to reciprocate. And beyond his physical attractiveness, he proved to be intelligent, humorous, and an attentive listener. After making love, he would hold you close, sharing tales of his adventures—battles fought, and cities visited. In turn, he would inquire about your own experiences, attentively listening as you spoke of your journeys to Frankia and Ireland. Sihtric had mentioned the death of his lord and his intent to travel to Eoferwick, seeking Danish lords who might accept his oath and offer him a place in their service. While you did not believe this story, you kept your suspicions hidden. Sihtric was sweet, kind, attentive and captivating, and it turned out that you cherished his company as much as his body.

On the day you approached Bebbaburg, you started complaining about a heavy headache. The pleasurable part of the journey had come to an end, and you needed a valid excuse to retreat to rest as early as possible and preferably without Sihtric. With only two days to spend in the fortress, time was of the essence. Knowing that Sihtric was likely heading there for a similar purpose as you, you assumed he would be relieved by your sudden illness, as it would free him from your company in the evening, allowing him to focus on his mission. However, you were taken aback by his genuine concern for your well-being.

“Can I do anything for you?" Sihtric asked for the sixth time already, worry etched in his voice. "You look so pale. Would you like to rest inside the wagon and try to sleep during the final miles before we reach the fortress?" His words were accompanied by a touch of genuine concern. You sat at the front of the wagon, leaning against the arch with a pained expression on your face. Sihtric had promptly taken the reins from you the moment you mentioned feeling unwell. He had seated himself beside you, casting worried glances in your direction, occasionally taking your hand or gently caressing your cheek.

"It's alright, Sihtric. I'm not dying. It's just a headache, perhaps I caught a slight cold in this wind," you reassured him with a faint smile.

As the caravan arrived at Bebbanburg early in the evening, you were assigned rooms in the far west wing of the fortress. Lord Wihtgar was absent, but his wife eagerly welcomed the merchants. It seemed that Bebbanburg had not seen many visitors in quite some time. You received an invitation to join an evening meal served for all the travellers, but you excused yourself, citing the persistent headache, and retreated to your room. Sihtric followed you.

"Are you certain you don't want me to stay?" Sihtric asked, brushing his rough fingers against your cheeks and tucking the strands of hair falling into your eyes behind your ear. His behaviour caught you completely off guard. You had expected him to lose interest as soon as he achieved his goal of entering the fortress. Yet, there he stood, gazing at you with his captivating eyes, displaying genuine compassion and concern. He offered to stay by your side or to bring you some food if you weren't up for attending the feast. What was happening? You questioned yourself, perplexed by his unexpected actions.

"That's incredibly thoughtful of you," you smiled warmly, "But please, don't worry. You don't need to stay with me. I simply want to get some rest. Tomorrow, the lady of the fortress will likely negotiate every piece of silk I've brought. I need to be in good shape for that," you reassured him, gently guiding him towards the door. Sihtric wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and leaning in to kiss you.

"I will miss you, my beauty," he whispered, his hand hesitantly gliding down your arm from the elbow to your palm, where he pressed it lightly. Reluctantly, he turned away and made his way toward the great hall.

Sihtric strolled slowly along the lengthy corridor that led to the heart of the fortress. He was profoundly confused by the strange mix of emotions he experienced. When he initially decided to join the caravan, with the help of the young and attractive widow among the merchants, he had regarded it as nothing more than a pleasant side effect of his mission. However, the few days he had spent with you had stirred something unfamiliar within him.

You were not merely a beautiful and passionate lover; you possessed intelligence, authority, and a strength he had seldom encountered in women before. You had taken over your husband’s trade and had proven your competence and skill in what you were doing. Having travelled through various kingdoms, you possessed a wealth of captivating stories about distant places and people. You held your own opinions and fearlessly defended and debated them.

Tired and breathless after your passionate lovemaking, exhaustion and contentment settling upon both of you, Sihtric cherished the hours that followed. Lying together, wrapped in each other's arms, he held you close, breathing in your scent with his nose nestled against your neck, and enjoyed just talking to you. As the grand silhouette of Bebbanburg emerged on the horizon, Sihtric realized, to his surprise, that he did not want this journey to end so soon. He had hoped for at least one more night with you within the fortress's walls.

His mind was spinning with thoughts how to prolong the journey, to find a means to stay by your side or convince you to abandon the caravan and return with him to the village where Finan was waiting. Yet, he knew the thought was ludicrous. Why on earth would a wealthy, intelligent, and beautiful widow with her own successful trade choose to follow him to Cocchem? And even if she did, what would happen next? He had no answers to those questions. Sihtric had wanted to express his feelings, to share his emotions with you, but the words failed him. With a hesitant sigh, he had turned away reluctantly, making his way down the corridor. He had a mission to fulfil, and now that you were unwell and had declined his company, he believed it was the best moment to explore the fortress.

Descending into the inner yard, Sihtric leisurely strolled around the palisades and ramparts, meticulously memorizing their placement and assessing the potential number of men they could accommodate. As he neared the completion of his observations, a sudden noise jolted him. The hurried footsteps behind him hinted that someone was approaching, and Sihtric swiftly turned to face the person who was supposed to emerge from the shadows. Yet, before he could react, a blade was pressed against his throat from behind, and four guards emerged from a nearby pathway, accompanied by one of the traders scurrying behind them.

"It's him! He's Uhtred's man, I'm certain of it! I've seen them together in Lundene and Winchester. There's another one, an Irishman with a beard, but he stayed back at the village. It's just this damn Dane who joined us," the trader, who turned out to be one of the spies reporting to Wihtgar, hissed, pointing his finger at Sihtric.

"Take this piece of shit to the dungeon. Secure him properly," commanded one of the guards, seemingly in charge. "You are responsible for him with your life. Lord Wihtgar will return at latest in two days and will want answers from him."

Sihtric's face contorted with a scowl as the guards bound his hands, but he offered no resistance. It was pointless, with a blade pressed against his throat and four armed guards surrounding him. The plan had clearly gone wrong, terribly wrong, he thought to himself.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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farity · 7 months

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Obsession, part 7

She saw it in the news, that the three brothers Grimm, the scourge of their city because of their lawlessness and recklessness, had been found by their own mother, in their own living room.

What wasn't in the news but around gossip sites, was the rest.

The bodies had been placed on the sofa, in the See No Evil, Hear no Evil, and Say no Evil poses, and at first Mama Grimm had laughed upon first seeing her sons. "The boys" she'd called them even though they were in their late twenties and had fathered various little Grimm bastards around the land.

Then she'd realized, seen the wounds, seen how they didn't breathe, and screamed loudly enough that several servants rushed in.

The police had taken one look and known there would be no fingerprints, no fibers, not a mote of evidence. Which told them exactly what had happened.

"A burglary?" Mama Grimm had yelled at the police chief. "Are you fucking joking?"

The man, old enough and wise enough to know what was what, nodded. "There is no evidence to point to anything else, Mrs. Grimm."

* * * * *

"Pyke?"

Your boss pinched the bridge of her nose. "We should open the office there within six months."

"I don't want to live in Pyke."

"No one wants to live in Pyke. Those living in fucking Pyke don't want to live in Pyke. But you'd be management. Up the ladder and all that."

You shook your head, "I don't want to be management. Management is synonymous with headaches. I like my job as it is."

She stared at you, mouth open in disbelief. "You can do that in your sleep. Monitoring shipments? How the fuck is that remotely interesting?"

You wanted to say that your job was a means to pay your bills and live your life. It didn't have to be fulfilling, it didn't have to be interesting. But you couldn't exactly say that. "It suits me, and I'm good at it."

"So you are officially refusing the offer?"

There was a threat now in her voice and you wanted to laugh at her. Fire me, you wanted to say, I'll live off unemployment.

You were not into spending every cent you made. Your savings account was healthy and your daily life was pretty modest, because you liked to splurge in traveling. If you got fired, you'd be fine for a year and you were sure you could find employment quickly enough.

"Yes, I am," you said as pleasantly as you could. "I have no interest in being a manager and even less in moving to Pyke."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "You're the best candidate! Who the fuck is going to be able to handle everything?"

"Maybe you should have clued me in as to your plans before you decided to open a branch in Pyke."

"Go home. I don't want to see you the rest of the day."

"Fine. You're not taking one of my vacation days, though."

You walked out and grabbed your things before heading home. It was a gray, dreary day, and you decided to head home and take a luxurious daytime nap.

* * * * *

"She doesn't have her own security?"

Viserys leaned over, a smile on his face. "The fact that she is asking for a favor puts us in a good situation. She knows you're the best, and by making this public, she is making it known throughout the realm."

Aemond said nothing. He was wasting his time over some old woman who wanted a babysitter while she traveled to King's Landing? By car?

The car arrived and both men exited, walking silently up the rose-framed staircase. There was a woman standing there, who greeted them and led them inside to see the legendary Milena Tyrell.

"She will be with you in just a moment, if you need anything, just ring the bell."

The office was well appointed, the Tyrell sigil dominating the area over the desk, an antique like most of the furnishings.

"Ah, Viserys!"

Aemond turned and saw Milena, a slim woman with a ready smile and a sleek white sweep of hair. She wore a red dress that emphasized her shapely figure, and seemed perfectly at ease in her sky-high heels. She presented her hand to his father, and he placed a kiss on the back of it. "Milena, looking fabulous as always."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me," she said flirtatiously, and then her gaze went to Aemond. "My goodness, aren't you very imposing, dear child?"

Aemond bowed, kissing her hand as well. "It is my honor to provide you with protection, Lady Milena."

"Let us talk. We shall have dinner and talk about the details."

She took the arm Viserys offered and led them to the dining room, where a variety of dishes were laid out. Aemond watched her discreetly during the meal, and was keenly aware that despite the fact that her eyes were mostly on his father, she was assessing him as well. He couldn't blame her. If she was going to put her life in his hands, she had the right to decide if she trusted him or not.

"It would only be the trip there, and once we arrive, my grandson can meet me and drive me back." She sighed. "I just can't do planes any more, not since we almost crashed that one time."

Aemond hadn't heard of this, but said nothing.

Viserys sipped at his wine. "Aemond would be delighted to drive you back here as well, if you wish."

Aemond would NOT be delighted to drive her back, he thought, but kept his expression neutral.

"Oh no, no, it's just the drive there that has me worried. The roads aren't what they used to be, you know."

The rest of the meal was taken up by stories from "the old days" which bored Aemond to near tears but he paid attention nonetheless, even though he would much rather have spent his time thinking of her.

* * * * *

She woke up and realized she'd fallen asleep on her sofa, and had a voicemail. She didn't recognize the number, but these days, that didn't mean anything anymore.

"Oh hello. Uh, it's me. I mean, Helaena. Hi. I got your number from Aemond, I hope it's ok. So, you're the only one who is doing the book club so did you want to come over or, you know, um, I could go to your place. Only if you want. I mean. You're always welcome here, but I know it's a drive to get here. Uh, ok. Let me know. Only if you want. It's Helaena. Oh, I said that already. Ok, bye."

She smiled to herself, wanting to hug Helaena. She seemed so lonely, and she was incredibly sweet. She texted back: I'd love to have you come over! Let me know when and we'll do it!

There was nothing from Aemond, not that she expected him to check in with her, but she was nervous about his sudden trip to Highgarden. Still, Helaena didn't sound like there was anything wrong, so that was a good sign.

She would live like this, she thought, always wondering if he was ok, and while the thought scared her, she didn't contemplate embracing the alternative.

Her phone dinged and she saw Helaena's reply.

omg omg I've never texted anyone other than my brothers. Ok yeah, let me see when I can go over and I will let you know. I'm so excited. Ok.

This poor girl. She had the sudden urge to plan something like an escape to Dorne or something, a girls' weekend full of tiny, dangerous drinks. And mani-pedis. And massages. And she was sure Aemond might murder her himself if she tried to escape with his sister. And she knew, given how she'd met Helaena in the first place, that it wasn't a good idea.

Maybe she'd plant the idea in Helaena's head and see what they could do. Alicent looked like she was up on all the latest treatments with her perfect skin and hair, maybe they could book a spa day wherever the Targaryens approved of such things.

She cleaned up a little, not that there was a lot to clean up, but it always made her feel better to have her space tidied up.

* * * * *

"Stay down, my lady!" Aemond yelled. The driver, a long time employee of Lady Milena, had been stupid enough to leave the car and had immediately gotten himself killed.

"Get me out of here!"

Aemond, reaching through the space between the two front seats, grabbed the woman's hand. "We're surrounded, my lady, but you are safe inside the car."

Another volley of gunfire sprayed across the side of the vehicle and Milena squeezed Aemond's fingers. "It doesn't feel very fucking safe!"

He knew they should have taken a different road, he had suggested it and been overruled because this fucking hag thought she knew better. And so did her goddamn driver. And he was dead. If they were in the car she'd wanted to ride in, they'd be dead. His vehicles were armored, it wasn't something he'd been willing to compromise on, and she should be fucking grateful.

His father had been in the first car, and his driver - one of Aemond's men - had sped away, taking Viserys to safety.

He had reinforcements coming in, and then he'd throw the silly goat into another armored car, drive her the rest of the way to King's Landing himself, and never again agree to this kind of shit.

* * * * *

You had finished laundry, eaten dinner, brushed your teeth, and were about to change into your pajamas when there was a knock on the door and you lunged for your phone, opening up the door security app.

You ran to the door and opened it, and Aemond, shirt covered in dried blood, looked at you.

Again you pulled him in and closed the door but this time he reached for you, grabbing your face in his and pressing his mouth to yours with a desperation that had you running your hands over his chest and shoulders to check for injuries.

"Not my blood," he muttered against your lips before he kissed you again, and sighing, you parted your lips for him.

He leaned down and for a moment you thought he was collapsing but then one arm went under your knees and he swept you up against him, and he headed down the hallway while you devoured his neck, raking your teeth down the pale column. Aemond hissed, his steps faltering for a moment, but then he walked into your bedroom, placing you on the bed.

He reached behind his head, pulling off the ruined shirt before tossing it aside. Coming back to you, he slipped his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, and you raised to hips to help him as he began pulling them down along with your underwear.

Pulling your own shirt over your head, you threw it somewhere to the side of the bed as he finished undressing you, and then you felt his mouth on the inside of your knee. You pressed your lips together as he sucked in some of your skin between his teeth. There would be a mark there. "Mine," he said, and pushing your legs apart, hooked his arms underneath your thighs.

You met his eye, burning with want, a moment before he fastened his mouth between your legs and the room began to spin. You fell back on the bed, his lips and tongue setting you aflame. He wasn't gentle, or patient, and amidst the fog of pleasure enveloping you, you understood his frenzied need to have you.

Reaching down to grab his hair, to somehow get him to slow down before he made you come already, you felt his hands grab yours, and you could only hold on as he drove you to a quick, sharp orgasm. Your hips rolled with every lashing, your cries filling the room, and you realized he wasn't slowing down at all. He licked at your overly sensitive flesh, each swipe of tongue making your body twitch, until you felt it again, the heated coil twisting inside you once more, your hands squeezing his for something to ground you.

When you came the second time, your scream was louder, more ragged, and your body arched, every muscle straining as shards of pleasure tore through you. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the brief seconds of bliss as you came down soon taken over by a new build up of release curling inside you.

"Oh gods, oh gods," you breathed. If he heard you, he didn't react, gave no indication of stopping. Instead, he made some kind of growling noise against you and you gasped, the vibrations against you making you moan. Your legs had started to shake and as you began spiraling again you thought I might not survive this, and realized you didn't care.

You began rocking your hips, reaching for release, your hands wrapping around his, and as tears began falling from your eyes, you let it tear you apart, every part of you on fire for him as you came again, your mind going dark as the orgasm took over your every sense.

You felt him leave you for a moment, but then he was pushing inside you and your moan turned into a sob as pleasure and pain mixed together. He was big, and you were so overly stimulated, and as he stretched you, you started reaching for him, to slow him down or to pull him against you, you weren't sure.

You felt him grab one of your hands and he leaned down to kiss the delicate skin of your wrist. You turned your hand to caress his face and he pressed his lips to your palm, murmuring something you didn't quite hear.

You gasped as he snapped his hips, seating himself fully inside you. There were sharp little stings as you struggled to take all of him, but you pulled him down to you until your mouth was near his ear.

He stilled for a moment, and you ran your other hand up his arm.

"Fuck me, Aemond," you whispered. "I want everything."

You felt a shiver go through him, and then he pulled back, so slowly you stopped breathing, and then he thrust hard, making you gasp. Again, he pulled back and again he drove back hard enough to make you moan.

He stopped for a moment and you looked up.

"More. Harder."

You heard a soft hmmm from him, and then he leaned over you, his hands fisting in your hair because each thrust was hard enough that you realized he was holding you in place. The sounds of his hips slamming against yours filled the room, joined by the sounds of someone moaning, whimpering, desperately struggling to take everything he was giving you and at the same time, demanding more.

Your body, already addicted to the pleasure he was giving you, began tightening in anticipation, and when the orgasm hit you, you cried out, a ragged sob leaving your throat as you clenched around him.

He didn't let go of your hair and he didn't stop fucking you through your release, and as you recovered, you ran your hands up his arms and down his chest, the muscles hard as rock as he continued pumping his hips.

"Say you're mine," he demanded.

You wrapped your arms around him, your nails sinking into the skin of his back. "Yes."

He thrust hard, making you gasp. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you breathed out, and in the next desperate breath, you demanded, "your turn."

He went completely still then, and you could hear his breathing as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "I am totally, completely, and terrifyingly yours."

"Then I will have you, Aemond," you said, and pushed on one shoulder until he realized what you wanted and rolled onto his back, pulling your knees to his sides.

You rolled your hips once, realizing you would be sore later, and began moving, your hands on his shoulders as you began riding him. He reached up to squeeze your breasts, teasing the sensitive tips until he pulled you down to take one in his mouth. You moaned, and he fisted his hand in your hair again, keeping you in place so he could feast.

You rocked harder against him and he let go of your breast, one hand raking through his hair. "Fuck yes," he muttered, letting you set the pace as you continued moving above him. His hands slid down to your hips, one pressing into the soft skin there and the other moving over to your belly, his thumb sliding down to where you were joined. "Come again for me."

You let your head fall back and rode him, your thighs burning, until you felt it building inside you, your hands on your breasts as you gave in, a silent scream on your lips as he grew harder inside you, sending you over the edge, and you felt him groan, fingers digging hard into your hip, the other moving to wrap around you as you collapsed against him.

* * * * *

You didn't know how long you lingered in his arms, floating in the aftermath, Aemond turning to kiss your sweaty forehead every so often. At some point he rolled you onto your back again and ever so gently slipped inside you, this time his movements languorous as he drove you both to a sweet, sweet release that had you sighing.

You were now curled against him, legs intertwined with his, and he wrapped his arms around you. "Are you cold?" he murmured.

The covers and sheets had long ago ended up at the bottom of the bed along with one of your pillows.

"No," you looked at him. "Can you tell me about it?"

He turned onto his side, facing you, and told you about Milena Tyrell, how she'd complained about everything while he put his life on the line for her. The screaming argument he'd had with his father when he'd told Viserys he would never again agree to something like this, and how he'd just left in the middle of it, storming out of the house, to come to you.

You said nothing, just listened and ran your fingertips down his arm. You were most definitely NOT a fan of Viserys Targaryen, but right now you wanted to only focus on Aemond and it delighted you that he had sought you out, that he trusted you enough to come to you. It meant something, especially to someone like him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"That I'm glad you came over, not just because this is the best sex I've ever had in my life," you said and he smiled, "but because I'm glad that you are confiding in me."

He leaned in to nuzzle your cheek. "I trust you," he said. "I've never told anyone I am theirs. I've never wanted anyone to be mine. I don't want to scare you," he said, and laughed when you rolled your eyes at him, "but I want you with me. I want you not just in my life, but to be a big part of it." He stopped himself before he said any more, but kissed your nose.

"Aemond," you said softly, "I know yours is not an easy life, but I am with you."

He moved to kiss your lips, holding you tightly, and he didn't let go for a long time.

* * * * * *

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pherelesytsia · 2 years

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/single Reader

Summary: Thomas Shelby, a single father, lost his son at the fair and finds him in the arms of an unknown woman and is instantly enchanted by her.

Warning: Fluff and Angst

Word Count: 3.1k

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Part Two

Peals of laughter rang out loudly. Grey elongated clouds adorned the horizon, yet the bright sun broke through the gloom. People in costumes danced through the rows of hundreds of people. Musicians played serenades banishing sadness from heart and soul. Singers sang and coins flew through the air. Horses trotted behind the high white bridles. Laughing children sat on the stately animals, clasping to the leather reins firmly. The scent of almonds lingered in the air along with roasted apples, but the smell didn’t resemble the beginning of spring but of Christmas, of hot tea and warming flames rising in the fireplace.

Laughing, Claire walked ahead, a few steps away from her mother, who didn’t take her eyes off of her singing daughter. Her eyes were sparkling and the wide smile gracing her features kissed by the rising wind let the young mother smile, watching her daughter dressed in a dark blueish dress dance by her side. A brown cap rested on her head and the thin gloves were tucked in the pockets of the coat in dark brown tones protecting Claire from the fresh spring breeze. Her long hair framing her features reached down to her waist. Claire's hand disappeared into the depths of the brown paper bag and ate the roasted nuts coated in a sugary coat tasting like chocolate. Her eyes grew bigger and bigger with each attraction, but no words crossed her plum lips, ignoring the words her mother had said, had put money aside for several months to fulfil her daughter's wish to visit the fair.

The small family of two was not poor, were well off, but Y/N could not read her daughter's every wish from her lips, yet she did not have to worry about scarcity, tailoring beautiful dresses for the women of the elite of the country and suits fulfilling every wish of a man with extra pockets to hide small bottles of alcohol or boxes for cigars. Claire was well dressed, and it was obvious from the child's dress, followed by the coat, that her mother was skilled with the needles. Delightful Claire laughed and her eyes were full of love, shone brightly and let everybody know she came from a loving and caring family, but the ring missing from Y/´s finger clarified no man had found a place at her side walking swiftly after her daughter.

Laugher echoed loud and booming. Birds circled over the square. Tall men wandered through the rows of children staring after of the horses, pulling carriages across the fair.

"Can I offer you something, mum?" Claire asked her mother.

Smiling, Y/N lowered her gaze to the girl who had her eyes and shook her head. Claire turned and faced her mother and offered the nuts in the brownish paper bag.

"Thank you, my sunflower, but no," Y/N declined.

"But if you want, I'll give you some. I can't eat all of this,", "I'm sure you can my sunflower. Don't you want to ride a horse? I know you like them. They look lovely." Y/N asked.

Immediately Claire shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her, letting Y/N know the girl who had grown under her care imagined herself on a leather saddle of a horse.

"No mommy, I know it's a quarter, we could go to the theatre together for that. I know, I read it in the newspapers yesterday when we ate breakfast." the girl said proudly, remembering exactly the article she had tried to read.

Y/N laughed softly. Her daughter loved to read, had asked Y/N to learn the alphabet too many times, wanted to work as a journalist in the city one day.

"Come on, the white mare looks beautiful. Look, she's got a braid like you." she spoke.

Smiling, Y/N ignored her daughter's silent protest, shook her head and after a few steps, Claire stopped her loud protesting, looking forward to sit on the horse she thought was the most beautiful of them standing by the stables of light wood. With quickening steps, Claire, followed by her mother, approached the high fence separating the crowd from the horses.

"Go to the fence, I'll buy you a ticket in the meantime.", "Okay." Claire answered standing on tiptoes, trying to see the trotting horses.

"And don't forget to not go with strangers, Claire," said Y/N in a sterner tone.

The little girl grimaced and let her mother know the words were unnecessary, knew what she had to do, was too smart for her age. Y/N bought the ticket with her gaze travelling over and over again to Claire watching the snoring horses and ponies. With thanking words Y/N left the salesman in a dark suit behind and turned to face Claire. Fear spread through her body; certain Claire was standing there a moment ago, a mere second ago. Wide eyes searched for Claire and relieved, Y/N exhaled, seeing her child a few steps away from her. Angered Y/N stepped forward, shook her head but before the first scolding word could cross her lips, she saw Claire standing at the side of a boy around her age and Y/N recognised him instantly.

"Mum, Charlie is lost and can't find his father," Claire spoke in a shocked tone.

The anger faded away. Y/N exhaled and stepped closer to the two children. Smiling Y/N knelt down and nodded, wanting to be at eye level with the two children who were almost the same height. Soft words escaped her, searched for a brief moment for the man who was Charlie’s father but then Y/N remembered she had never seen him.

"Hey Charlie, can you remember me?" breathed Y/N.

Gently Y/N touched his hand, clasping it, trying to reassure the young man who was trying to keep the tears from falling that everything is alright. Fear remained in his eyes but no tears graced his skin. Shyly, Charlie nodded. His eyes were in lush blue tones, his hair was neatly pulled back and immediately, without doubting Y/N recognised her work, knew she had tailored the suit in dark blue tones a few months ago before Christmas.

"You don't have to worry, I know we'll find him and if not, I'll take you home, we live in the same town, surely you can tell me where you live, can't you? You are a big boy." Y/N said in a calm tone.

Charlie nodded again and clasped the young woman's hand tightly. Y/N´s right hand disappeared in her handbag and took out a white, freshly ironed handkerchief and wiped the tears from his rosy cheeks and then let it disappear into the pocket of his jacket.

"My name is Y/N, I'm Claire's mother. Can you tell me where you last saw your father or what he looks like? I see you every day at the kindergarten but I've never seen your father, but I know your uncle Arthur well.", "He's tall and has dark hair and blue eyes and he wears suits and I lost him here, I was standing by the horses and all of a sudden, he was gone." replied Charlie.

A faint smile came over Y/N and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Her gaze travelled from east to west across the square of hundreds of people, of men in dark suits and woman in long dresses. The description fitted many people Y/N thought to herself and exhaled.

"Okay, I'm sure we'll find him, Charlie. Do you like horses?" Y/N asked.

The boy nodded weakly, hoped his father would soon stand by his side.

"Can I offer you a ride? I bought two tickets. If you want and don’t fear the horses then you can ride with Claire and if your father doesn't show up in the next half hour then we'll go on a search for him and if we still haven't found him by six o'clock then we'll make our way to your home. Are you okay with that or not?" Y/N asked, saw the tears veiling the gaze of the young boy.

Suddenly the tears faded away. Eyes beamed with joy. Charlie nodded quickly and looked at Claire standing by his side. Smiling the two children laughed. Claire clasped his hand and Charlie took Y/N's right hand, fearing he would get lost again, trusted the woman he had seen often at the kindergarten picking up his best friend.

The children were swift, happy and laughing audibly, dragging Y/N after them, eager to get to the horses as quickly as possible. The ground changed under their feet and the children let go of Y/N, standing on tiptoes, observing the horses. Hay mingled with mud. Y/N handed the purchased tickets to the two children, had bought two rides for her daughter. Claire thanked her mother after Charlie nodded shyly in response.

Scolding words escaped Y/N, told them to behave well, and watched the two children accompany the man with greying hair in riding boots to the horses standing at the side by the stables. Y/N waved, watching the fear disappear from the boy's eyes as he settled onto the dark horse and clasped the reins of light leather. Smiling Y/N watched them ride slowly in circles and immediately, as the two children made the last turn, they ran to her, holding hands and talking in hush tones, leaving the horses behind and running towards the exit guarded by another man in high leather boots.

Music echoed through the rows of people. The sparkle in the children's gigantic eyes did not disappear, not even when the boy realised his father was still not in sight, but Charlie knew nothing more could happen to him under Y/N's care. Suddenly, Claire stopped and forced Charlie to do the same. Ashamed, the young girl looked down at her filthy clothes. The tips of her leather shoes were graced with mud. Stains covered the hem of the dress and Claire wanted to start a sentence, knowing exactly how long it had taken to tailor the dress, but before the young girl could apologise, her mother shook her head, let her know she didn't have to say anything.

"It can happen Claire. I have to wash the dress, anyway. You don't have to worry about it. It is nothing a little bit of hot water and soap can´t fix. But when we get home, you will clean your shoes." Y/N said.

"Of course. I'm sorry." Claire apologised anyway.

Relief spread through the girl, feared her mother would be disappointed.

"I see you enjoyed the horses. I hope your father won't mind and tell him in case I forget he doesn't have to give me the money back for the ticket." the young mother assured.

Y/N rested her hand on his shoulder in a protective gesture and joyfully the boy looked up.

"Charlie, can't you give me a more precise description of your father? I have tried to find him, but unfortunately, many men fit your description. There are so many men in suits and I'm worried I'll not notice your father." Y/N joked.

Shrugging his shoulders, the boy, who was a spitting image of his father, looked questioningly at Y/N, pressed his lips together and pictured his father once standing by his side.

"He's much taller than you, taller than most people. He has blue eyes and wears a suit and has the same hat as me." Charlie said.

"Okay, you know what Charlie? I'll take you up, you'll be able to see more and maybe you'll find your dad." Y/N asked.

Charlie nodded again. He stretched out his arms and Y/N lifted the boy off the ground, pressed him tightly against her body and positioned herself so that his weight was partly on her hips, feeling she would not be able to hold him in her arms for long. Y/N groaned softly, and exhaled, was convinced the boy would be lighter, but she was wrong, was heavier than her daughter.

"Claire, come to me. I don't want to lose you." Y/N said.

The young mother smiled, noticing the girl standing at her side, clawing her fingers into the long coat in brownish tones. The look on the girl's face spoke volumes. She lifted her eyebrows lightly, shaped her lips into a wry grin, and gave her mother a wondering look.

"Of course, mommy, you don't have to worry about me. I'm a big girl," assured Claire proudly. "But you are a big boy too, Charlie, even if you got lost. It might have happened to me too. The horses are beautiful. Isn't that your father over there? I saw a picture of him once," Claire added quickly, seeing the pain welling up in the eyes focused on her.

With her outstretched finger, she pointed in the direction of the attraction a man in a dark suit was standing in front of, but Charlie shook his head.

"My father is taller and slim. And he wears a long dark coat. He would never wear anything like that. He only wears suits." Charlie interjected, continuing on his search for his father.

The wind was howling, and the sun was wandering.

Piercing eyes broke through the rows of people. His suit was dark, but he stood out. The man stood still, recognising the eyes searching for him but seeing no sadness ruling in them. Suddenly the eyes were flooded with joy. Charlie exhaled in relief. Joyful words crossed his lips formed into a grin. With his finger Charlie pointed in the man's direction who stood more than twenty steps away from them. The tall man walked with quickening steps towards the three people. The fear once gnawing at his bones was gone. Relief ruled in his eyes, had prayed countless of prayers, had feared the worst, already cursing himself, would never forgive himself if something had happened to his blood. Confused, the Shelby looked from his son to the woman he was sure he had never seen in his life as she placed Charlie on the ground. The young boy cried out in relief. Thomas breathed freely, smiled and lifted Charlie up and pressed him against his chest, ignored the smell of horses clinging to the jacket of his son.

Words Y/N could not understand escaped the handsome man, but she was convinced they formed into words forbidding the boy to dare to leave his side again. Claire took a step towards her mother and reached for her hand, clasping it tightly and smiling beatifically, glad her kindergarten friend had found his father. After a few words, Thomas let go of his son, set him down on the ground and looked in the woman's direction, giving her a weak smile. Charlie grabbed his father's hand and pulled him behind him, telling him to follow him fast to two girls in nearly identical clothing. The man glanced down at Y/N and lowered his left hand on his son's shoulder in a protective gesture.

"Good afternoon, I would like to thank you for taking care of Charles Mrs.” Thomas said.

"I'm not a Mrs, I'm a Miss and you don't have to thank me for anything Mister Shelby, I did what any other person would have done." Y/N interjected.

His gaze slid down her body and reached for her hand. Elegantly Thomas clasped her hand, his fingers entwining it, bowed slightly and breathed a feather-light kiss on the back of her hand. Y/N smiled. Her heart skipped a beat. A reddish hue painted her cheeks. Y/N could not recall the last time when a male greeting her this way, but then she was certain she had never been kissed on the hand before. Charlie contorted his face into a nauseated grimace, not like Claire who watched with dilated eyes as, for the first time in many years, her mother was kissed by a man. Thomas laughed silently, still holding her hand loosely, knowing exactly what other people, other persons would have done in her place with his son. His lips no longer touched; Thomas wanted to start a sentence but a voice made it impossible to continue.

"Dad, can I invite Claire to our house? I want to show her my cars and the garden. She loves flowers. Please." echoed a voice.

Thomas let go of the hand he was carefully holding , saw that a ring was missing, and looked down at his son who was standing at Clarie's side awaiting a specific answer. Thomas smiled.

"Miss, may I invite you and your daughter to join us for a cup of tea and cake? I realise we don't know each other, but I would nevertheless like thank you for taking care of my son.”, “Unfortunately I don't know where you live and my old car is parked at the docks. Claire and I life in the small town for a year now yet I fear if you give me the address, I still won't be able to find it.” Y/N informed the man in the dark suit.

“Please mom.” whispered Claire.

“I have an idea. I will drive you and your daughter to our home and in the evening back home and I will send one of my brothers to pick up your vehicle and drive it your house.", " Mr Shelby I don't want to cause any trouble." Y/N said.

Thomas flashed a smile.

"You're definitely not causing me any trouble, but please call me Thomas." he promptly interjected. “And with whom do I have the pleasure?” Thomas added.

No answer escaped Y/N. His tone was gentle, didn’t fit the sternness of his ageless features.

“My mommy’s name is Y/N.” Claire answered.

Unable to take her eyes off of his, lost in the deep sea, Y/N smiled, could not remember the last occasion she had been so close to a man, sure it must have been years ago. Ashamed Y/N lowered her gaze. The handsome man stepped forward. Thomas offered his arm and gratefully Y/N accepted it. A pleasant warmth flooded her body and she dared not to lift her gaze, knowing exactly his eyes, the bright sky on a beautiful cloudless day were upon her. The world grew silent, the loud voices of the people faded away. A smell she was not used to enveloped Y/N. Claire and Charlie walked ahead, chuckling, and focused the eyes over their shoulders, stared at them, who from a distance appeared to be a married couple.

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theladyofbloodshed · 7 months

Text

Chapter 9 - You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be

Azriel is just in emotional agony, warring inside his own head

'We appreciate you taking the time to see us again.’

Only two queens had come for their meeting – the eldest and the golden-haired one – although the same number of mortal guards had escorted them. Their keen eyes did not miss Feyre and Rhys’ entwined hands or the matching crowns on their heads signalling an accepted mating bond.

Azriel had taken up a post near the bay windows close to where Nesta stood poker-straight with her shoulders locked. He hadn’t sent any shadows to comfort her, yet one was twining itself around her hand and another had looped around her ankle the moment they had all finished their tea. If she found comfort in his shadows, she would be the first – beside him. They weren’t prone to fleeing from her. In fact, they seemed to bolster their courage in Nesta’s presence. If they were not in the midst of a terse meeting with mortal royalty, the others would surely notice his shadows behaving differently. As it was, nobody noticed a thing. Not even when the shadow looped around his wrist and Nesta’s, tying them together.

‘After being so gravely insulted the last time…’ A simmering glare was thrown at Nesta that had Azriel squeezing his hands into a fist, but the mortal woman next to him levelled her own look of unyielding flame back at her. ‘We debated for many days whether we should return. As you can see, three of us found the insult to be unforgivable.’

More words were batted back and forth between Rhys, Feyre, and the two queens. Insults were thinly veiled behind them.

This close to Nesta, Azriel hardly dared to breathe. That agonising ache in his chest that had been with him for weeks had suddenly eased. More than that, a flood of heat was leaking out from where the pain had been. He felt warm and cosy, like he was being brought in from the cold. A maddening desire to curl his face into her neck had him tensing his legs to stop his wayward heart from daring to do it. He risked a glance to the pale column of her neck, at the space where it met her collar bone. He thought of a kiss placed there – chaste to a degree but also a prelude to more.

What was wrong with him?

Why was he fantasising about touching this mortal female?

Had it been so long since he’d bedded a female that his heart would run away with only a pretty face?

Azriel tugged his wrist free from the shadow binding it and focused on the conversation. If he did not fulfil his duty here – as a result of daydreaming about Nesta Archeron – he would never forgive himself.

‘There is an iron engagement ring upon my sister’s finger – and yet she stands with us.’

The queens’ stare landed on Elain in her pale pink and blue dress. She was uncomfortable under their scrutiny and did a poor job of hiding it. Beside him, he felt Nesta go rigid. How she didn’t snap in two, he did not know.

‘I would say that is proof of her idiocy,’ the golden one sneered, ‘to be engaged to a Fae-hating man… and to risk the match by association with you.’

‘Do not judge what you know nothing about.’ The words came out from Nesta as a hiss, coiled by her anger.

‘The viper speaks again,’ the queen said with a raise of her brows towards Feyre. ‘Surely the wise move would have been to have her sit this meeting out.’

‘She offers up her house and risks her social standing for us to have these meetings,’ replied Feyre fairly. ‘She has the right to hear what is spoken in them. To stand as a representative of the people of these lands. They both do.’

Without realising what he was doing, Azriel reached for Nesta’s hand. Shadows obscured it. Nobody looked their way; Mor was opening the lid of the box where the Veritas orb was stored. Nesta risked a glance to him then down at the layer of shadows masking their entwined fingers. She did not pull away. Her fingers did not go limp against his scarred touch. No, Nesta held on tighter – the first sign of her fear. Likely the only sign she’d ever be willing to show. Azriel had never wished more to be a daemati. He wished he could speak to Nesta, offer her soft, comforting words to soothe the fear masked as vitriol.

Velaris was revealed to the queens but Azriel kept his attention fixed on Nesta, measuring every slight change to her expression as she took in the City of Dreamers. Even the sight of his beautiful city could not persuade the queens. They demanded more time to deliberate. There was no time. The never-ending drumming of war stormed closer each day. It would be on their doorsteps before they knew it.

Even a love letter from Rhysand was read out by the elder queen, imploring them to see reason and save Feyre’s people.

‘Who is to say that this is not all some grand manipulation?’

‘What?’ Mor blurted.

‘A great many things have changed since the War. Since your so-called friendships with our ancestors. Perhaps you are not who you say you are. Perhaps the High Lord has crept into our minds to make us believe you are the Morrigan. ‘

The fingers cradled against his own slipped free. Nesta gave a loud exhale. Elain reached for her – to stop her. ‘This is the talk of madwomen. Of arrogant, stupid fools.’ The venom in her voice threatened to buckle the very foundations of the home. The queens stared at her with blinding shock. Even the sentries hadn’t moved to grip their weapons. ‘Give them the Book.’

The queens remained blinking at her.

Nesta snapped, ‘Give them the book.’

Despite the queens’ refusal, Nesta went on. Her arms flung out, brows drawn together with despair. ‘There are innocent people here. In these lands. If you will not risk your necks against the forces that threaten us, then grant those people a fighting chance. Give my sister the Book.’

The elder queen averted her gaze as if she could no longer hold Nesta’s burning one. And she did burn with a fury and a passion that nearly brought Azriel to his knees.

‘An evacuation may be possible-’

‘You would need ten thousand ships,’ Nesta said, her voice breaking. ‘You would need an armada. I have calculated the numbers. And if you are readying for war, you will not send your ships to us. We are stranded here.’

The crone gripped the polished arms of her chair as she leaned forward, a cruel smile edging onto her lips. ‘Then I suggest asking one of your winged males to carry you across the sea, girl.’

Azriel would. He’d fly across the ocean again and again, saving every mortal he could, until he died of exhaustion if Nesta asked him to.

Nesta’s throat bobbed. ‘Please. Please – do not leave us to face this alone.’

Azriel was moved by her words. Even the stars would move for her.

Just as he made to step forwards, to go to his knees before her and offer his wings, Cassian crossed to her. Azriel stiffened. Nesta lifted her chin to meet Cassian’s blazing gaze.

‘Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house – your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.’

A single tear fell down her cheek at his declaration. As Cassian reached to wipe it away, Azriel turned his eyes to his boots. His chest was caving in. He had been so long without contact that a muted smile from Feyre’s sister had him unravelling. If Cassian wanted to tangle himself with a mortal whose life was limited, that was his brother’s choice.

Nesta did not pull away, did not stop him from touching her cheek with everybody watching.

A shadow burrowed up his sleeve, wending its way towards his chest to lay against his thumping heart. The sooner they were back in Velaris the better. Being in the mortal realm did not agree with Azriel. It churned up his emotions, his sense, his shadows. He wanted to go home.

The queens departed. They would not offer the book nor aid. They would leave the mortal world to rot and ruin.

Nesta stepped away, back towards Elain. A comforting arm went around her sister’s shoulders although she had been the one visibly distressed. When Azriel’s shadows moved to go to her, he called them back. For once, they listened.

‘It will be alright,’ she murmured to Elain though those words were for herself too, he supposed.

Feyre gave a gasp. Beneath her chair was a box containing the Book. Rhys picked it up and veiled it with his magic. They would leave swiftly before the other queens knew it was missing.

Rhys inclined his head to the eldest Archeron sisters. ‘It is your choice, ladies, whether you wish to remain here, or come with us. You have heard the situation at hand. You have done the math about an evacuation.’ A nod of approval as he met Nesta’s red-rimmed eyes. ‘Should you choose to remain, a unit of my soldiers will be here within the hour to guard this place. Should you wish to come live with us in that city we just showed them, I’d suggest packing now.’

A long beat of silence followed. Nesta looked to Elain, who was still silent and wide-eyed. The latter thumbed the iron ring on her finger. A promise to a mortal male who would likely be a dead man soon too.

‘It is your choice,’ Nesta said with a tenderness that had his shadows yearning for her. ‘I go where you go.’

Elain swallowed like a doe caught in a snare. ‘I- I can’t. I…’

She was choosing love over safety. And that would damn her sister too. Love was a poison that ruined all it touched.

Surely Rhys wouldn’t allow it. They were his mate’s sisters. They should be brought to Velaris where it was safe. Azriel would keep them safe.

Rhys nodded with understanding, his grip tightening on Feyre’s waist. ‘The sentries will be here and remain unseen and unfelt. They will look after themselves. Should you change your minds, one will be waiting this room every day at noon and at midnight for you to speak. My home is your home. Its doors are always open to you.’

Azriel would be there for the first night. He would volunteer himself to guard the sisters. He could not conceive of Illyrians or Darkbringers in this place protecting mortals. They were more likely to make them suffer. No, he would guard them. Him and Cass. A bitter taste of jealously slid down his throat at the thought of Cassian being alone with Nesta. Cassian would seize the chance. From the way he lingered near her now, he knew his brother was desperate for another moment with her.

Despair paled Nesta’s face. She looked at them all then to Feyre. ‘That was why you painted stars on your drawer.’

#nezriel #nesta x azriel

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