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#my winter house attire
scarletlizzard · 3 months
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Part 4: Cat and Mouse
Sessions Series
Parings: dark Wanda x female reader
Tags Minors DNI: smut, mentions of gun/knife, choking, strap on usage (R receiving), major manipulation, toxic, stalker
Masterlist
A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reading my first series! It's been so fun to write. If you have any questions, let me know! I'm thinking of writing an epilogue for it if yall are interested? To show where they are now. Let me know what y'all think 🩷
Early Spring 2016
Wanda tilts her head to the side, a smile on her face as she looks at the painting on the wall.
It's a Renaissance-style painting. A woman draped in elegant attire is depicted running gracefully across a grandiose landscape. Her flowing garments billow behind her as she glances over her shoulder with a mix of fear and excitement in her wide eyes.
Behind her, a single shadow looms ominously, its form elongated and exaggerated. The scene is bathed in soft, golden light, casting long shadows and creating a sense of darkness.
The woman's delicate features and intricate clothing are painted with meticulous detail, while the surrounding scenery showcases the artist's mastery of perspective and depth. The painting seems to capture the eternal struggle between light and darkness.
Wanda felt drawn to it. Something about it was pulling her in. This was her fourth time coming to see it, the gallery being just down the block from her office.
"Haunting, isn't it?" A voice, possibly the most alluring voice she had ever heard, speaks from next to her.
"It's breathtaking," Wanda mutters. Her eyes focus on the woman in the painting, then to the dark shadow behind her.
"The shadow, it never stops chasing her. She's constantly looking back over her shoulder, wondering.." The voice speaks again.
"Wondering what?" Wanda asks.
"Wondering when she'll be caught. It's all a game, see?" A finger points to the small plaque underneath the painting. The title of it read:
Cat and Mouse
***
Current Winter 2018
You felt a sense of deja vu as you ran throughout the house. A sense of unexpected excitement flows through you as your feet carry you to the front door - locked.
As you run down the hallway, your breathing picks up. You hear Wandas loud steps stalking behind you at an even pace. The back door - locked.
Down another hall, door after door - locked.
Running up the stairs you take in Wandas words,
"When I find you, I will fuck you."
You couldn't ignore the ache between your legs or the partial truth to her reasoning.
Had you gone and sought out for a stalker? No, but once your shadow appeared, your life became more interesting. You felt a spark inside of you, and you felt it last night, too.
You find an open door and shut it behind you, quickly locking it. With your back against the hard wood, you take a second to catch your breath. When you hear footsteps from the end of the hall, you also hear Wandas voice.
"Don't forget what I said, darling.." A door opens and closes, the footsteps draw nearer.
A small smile plays on your lips.
You were just as fucked up as she was.
***
Early Spring 2016
Wanda turns to the woman next to her, taking in her bewitching appearance.
"Did you paint this?" Wanda asks. You nod, smiling as you stare at your art.
"I did. I still can't believe it's here," you chuckle to yourself. She watches curiously as you tap your leg 4 times with your finger.
"It's amazing. You are truly talented.." Wanda continues to stare at you.
"Thank you, it's... it's very personal," you say with a nod, turning to the stranger. "She needs the shadow to keep pushing forward, but she'll never admit it to herself."
Before either of you can say anything else, your phone rings. "Excuse me for a moment," you say with a smile, answering the call.
"Hey mom, is everything okay?" Wanda hears you ask as you walk away from her.
She looks at the painting, then to you standing on the other side of the room. A smile slid into a crooked grin on her face, and Wanda knew it was fate.
***
Current Winter 2018
You look around the room you entered, some sort of a guest bedroom. You needed a way out.. Right?
Yes, you needed to get out.
You move around the room, looking for some type of makeshift weapon, but find no such thing. Wandas footsteps stop outside the door, you stand still near the neatly made bed.
"I know you're in there, pretty girl.." The door knob wiggles as she tries to open it, finding it locked. Wanda chuckles darkly.
"Dear Shadow," her voice carries through the door, your eyes widen. There was no way she knew the next words.
"You scare me.. You frighten me.."
"Stop it!" You scream, putting your hands over your ears.
"You scare me because I'm afraid I'll never be able to live a normal life. You frighten me because I like being chased.." Wanda quotes the note you left, the one you thought was locked away in a box underneath a pile of clothes in your closet. The door handle wiggles again.
"You make me feel something, something I know isn't right. I won't play your game.." She finishes talking. And you feel your hands shaking.
"H-How did you get that note?" You ask, fists balled up at your sides. You think back to a session where Wanda even asked you about the note. A note she apparently had, for how long you weren't sure.
"Do you really think I've only been inside of your house the once? You're smarter than that little mouse."
Your stomach dropped again, a sick feeling in your gut at the realization of her words. Wanda had been more a part of your life than you had even realized.
***
Late Summer 2016
Wanda watches from across the street, hidden in the shadows as you unpack boxes in your new home. It had been two months since your mother's funeral, 4 months since she began watching you. She dropped the cigarette she was smoking onto the ground, kicking it out with her foot. She watches as a red-headed woman helps you hang up a painting on the wall. Wanda smiles. It was almost time to begin the game.
***
Fall 2016
"Natasha? Hey!" Wanda says with a perfect smile, a hand runs through her hair.
"Oh my god, hey! We just keep running into each other." Natasha smiles warmly.
Happenstance, right ... Wanda thinks to herself as the red head reaches out her hand. She shakes Natashas' hand with a friendly grip.
"I know it's so crazy! Hey, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? Might as well if we're going to keep seeing each other around," Wanda laughs and looks around the grocery store she's never shopped at before.
"That would be so great, I know a great cafe just down the block.."
***
Winter 2016
Wanda stands outside in the shadows. The same red wine is poured into a glass as you stir a pot on the stove. She watches as you look through the window, squinting your eyes. You shake your head and gulp the rest of the wine down, not knowing you were staring right at her.
A vibrate from her pocket pulls her attention, and she looks at the text she received:
Natasha- Hey Wanda! Throwing a Christmas party next Saturday. You in?
Wanda- I'll be there.
You saw in the corner of the room a woman, standing alone. Her eyes watch over the room as she sips out of a red solo cup. She looks.. familiar, you can't quite place it. With the confidence of Rum on your tongue, you walk over to the angelic looking woman. She has a crooked smile on her face as you approach her.
"Wanda," she says after you introduce yourself. It wasn't long after that you were screaming the name for hours in your bedroom.
***
Current Winter 2018
"Now open the door, darling.." Wanda says. You hear 4 taps on the door, not from her hand. You can only assume it was by the knife you saw her unsheathe downstairs.
"And then what? What's the endgame, Wanda?" You ignore her command, standing in front of the door as you question her. She's silent for a while, so quiet you began to wonder if she had disappeared.
"Tell me you don't like the chase. Tell me you hate the way I make you feel. Tell me you want me to stop," she speaks calmly, voice unwavering. You can practically hear the smile on her face as she says, "Tell me all of those things, pretty girl. And if you say it, if you mean it.. I will leave you alone. You can go back to your regular, boring life. The same routine every day. No one chasing after you, pushing you forward. No more shadows."
You swallow hard at her words, mouth open to speak, but no words come out. Wanda will leave you alone, just tell her you're done. Back to reality. Back to...
Wanda stands outside the door, waiting for too long. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a key, unlocking the door. When she opens it all the way, she feels a cool air blowing strands of her hair back. Wanda looks around once. You were nowhere to be found. She laughs and shakes her head, walking to the open window where the breeze flows into the room. Snow floating in gently.
You couldn't say those words to her and mean it. Wanda had run into your life and caused chaos, but you wouldn't be truthful if you said it was already fucked up. With Wanda you felt alive. You felt important. You couldn't live without the dangerous chase.
With windswept hair and an exhilarated look on your face, you dash through a pristine blanket of snow, your bare feet leaving delicate imprints behind you. With each step, a mix of excitement and trepidation dances across your features, your heart racing with the thrill of the moment. The feeling of the snow sticking to your hair and the flakes underneath you heightens the sense of vulnerability and adrenaline coursing through your veins.
It didn't take long for you to hear the familiar pace of Wandas stride coming from behind you.
You make for the trees.
***
Summer 2017
Wanda unscrews another bolt, wiping the sweat that dripped down to her brow. She stands from the AC unit on the side of your house, the mechanical noise coming to a halt. The birds in the trees above her chirped loudly, signaling the sun rising from a distance. She walks away, with each step assuring her imminent return.
****
Current Winter 2018
You find solace behind a tree. Gasping for air, your chest heaving with each breath. As you glance around, all you see are dark trees speckled white with snow. The treetops covered the forest that stood behind Wandas house, the sun peaking through its leaves and branches to light a golden path on the mossy ground.
A branch breaks from behind you. Your hands move to cover your mouth as you hear the steps of your shadow.
****
Summer 2017
"Such a pretty little mouse..."
Wanda sat on top of you, relishing in how easy it was to sneak in. How your body barely fought her off.
"Leave me alone!" You whimper, shaking your head to remove her hand off of your lip.
"Why? We've only just begun pretty girl," her voice makes your chest tighten. You watch with careful eyes as she reaches behind her back, pulling out a gun.
Wanda slides the barrel against your cheek, watching the fear in your eyes. The gun slides down your rapidly moving chest...
And then she sets it down on the floor beside your head.
"You can use it any time you like.. but I know you won't, little mouse," she husks down at you. "You want me here.. you like the idea of a shadow watching over you every day. The feeling I can just walk in at any time.." Wanda chuckles darkly.
Before you can say anything or wonder where her hands are going, you feel a sharp needle prick your neck. You immediately feel your eyes become heavy, your vision blurring as your shadow removes her mask. Features blurry enough that you can't make her out.
"Sweet dreams, Y/N.."
You awake the next morning on the couch with a start, gasping as you look around the room with wide eyes. The pounding in your head and the nauseous feeling in your stomach convinced you that you must have had too much to drink. It was just a bad dream.
But then your eyes catch sight, on the coffee table in front of you, a small black gun.
One that you would wave down the street looking for your shadow, screaming to no one that if they didn't come out, you would kill yourself.
One that you would lie to the police about, saying you bought it off a junkie at the docks to protect your shadow.
The shadow was yours, after all, to deal with.
****
Current Winter 2018
As you stand still like prey avoiding your predator, you hear a subtle sound of a bell ringing. A bell you knew to be followed by a blow of a deep horn as a boat leaves the dock. You wait a second... two... three...
A deep horn sounds from in the direction straight ahead of you.
Excitement sparks in your chest as you mentally prepare yourself to do what you do best, run.
You don't look back once, but you know Wanda is following. Your ears twitch as you hear her pace quicken behind you, branches and twigs snapping around the two of you as you make for the dock. The trees begin to clear, and you spot the water, a dock spanning so far you can't see the end of it, along the shore. You run towards a wooden boathouse attached to the dock that didn't look too far, hoping you could make it before Wanda emerges from the trees.
You sit low on the ground of the wood surface, and water splashes below you. A small boat floated inside, covered with a tarp, along with random tables and boxes filled with fishing supplies. As you look out the window, you see Wanda at the edge of the woods, her eyes searching the many places you could be. You duck down, not willing to risk being spotted.
***
Late Summer 2017
"I really fucked up, Wanda.." Pietro sighs into the phone.
Wanda shakes her head, watching from afar as you pace the living room.
"Shit, Pietro," she sighs loudly and walks away, around the corner. "I'll book a flight in the morning."
****
Spring 2018
"I'm so happy you're back.." Natasha smiles at her friend, sipping the coffee she held in her hands, the smiling not quite reaching her eyes.
"What's wrong, Nat?" Wanda says, resting her hand on top of Natasha.
"It's my friend, Y/N. I've told you about her," she says, Wanda nods thoughtfully. "She really needs some help, I just don't know what to do.."
Wanda reaches in her pocket and takes a business card out, sliding it across the table. "Give her this. I know a lot of people that could help her, but I also know you really care about her... I could take care of her. She would be brand new by the time we finished our Sessions."
Natasha takes the card wearily. "I don't know if I can just suggest this right now to her.. I'll think about it. Wait a little bit, and see if she gets better on her own." She smiles at Wanda gratefully.
"Of course.. maybe she'll get better," Wanda says, smiling at the thought of her spot in the shadows just outside your house.
****
Current Winter 2018
"Little mouse.." Her voice sounds from outside the window. You move quietly and quickly underneath a table that is in the corner covered by a tarp.
Wanda steps inside, the floor creaking underneath her weight, the door shutting with a snap. You listen to her footsteps as she walks around the small boathouse, rustling around in boxes. Your fingers twitch, absendmidetly tapping your leg 4 times.
Your shadow loomed over you.
It was quick, the pulling of the tarp, the exasperated scream as Wanda grabbed you from the back of your neck, pressing the blade to the front of your throat. She pulls you close to her, knowing you were going nowhere in her strong grip. The knife she held to your neck presses harder, drawing the smallest bit of blood as you attempt to scratch at her arms.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Wanda sighs into your ear, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin just below. "Looks like I've caught you, pretty girl. What now, hm?" She chuckles darkly and continues to kiss your neck.
The ache between your legs grows as she presses her hips into you, feeling the strap beneath her jeans. "I told you if you ran, I would punish you.." Wanda removes one hand, keeping the knife to your throat. You don't have time to wonder before you hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt.
Cool metal is replaced with warm leather as she ties the belt around your neck, pushing you down roughly face first onto the table in front of you. "Wanda.." You whimper out. She tugs on the end of the belt, your whimpering cut short by lack of air. With the sharp blade, she cuts the shirt that clung to your body right down the middle, exposing your back.
"I told you, Y/N. I warned you what would happen when I found you." Her free hand slides down the shorts you wore. You blush, knowing she was about to find out how wet you were for her. Wanda frees the strap from her pants, sliding the tip along your ass. Your hips move back towards her as she teases you, causing Wanda to smirk.
She knew how badly you wanted her. Wanda would show you, over time, how you belonged to her and only her. And that she, belonged to you, only you.
She slides in easily, wasting no time in fucking herself into you. The table moves with every thrust, scratching the wooden dock below. Wanda holds in one strong grip, the belt, the other one holding your hip to meet hers. The knife had dropped to the ground. You both knew it wasn't needed.
"Fuck pretty girl, I'm going to fuck you every chance I get.." She moans loudly, pulling the belt. Your hands grip onto the leather as she pounds into you mercilessly, moaning at the thought of her having her way with you whenever she felt like it. Her powerful thrust sending shocks into your body. A hard smack across your ass makes you yelp. You feel a singing sensation. Another. More stinging. And another. Surely a bruise.
"Tell me, Y/N.." Wanda grunts in between thrusts. You knew what she wanted to hear. You had no problem telling her the truth.
"I need you!" You rasp out, her grip on the belt loosens.
"That's right, baby. I won't let you forget it," she pulls the belt to pull you up, your back flush against her. Wanda kisses your cheek, surprisingly softly. "Fuck you feel so good." Wanda groans, her breathing becoming ragged. She gropes your breasts as the cut shirt slips off of your body, pinching your nipples hard between her fingers.
The pleasure was overstimulating, your body still sore and tired from the night before. You feel your legs tremble under your weight, but Wanda easily holds you up.
"Are you gonna cum, little mouse? Hm?" Wanda groans against your skin, you nod quickly. "You better beg for it then.." She chuckles, making you whine.
"Wanda.." Your word barely comes out, unable to think and physically trapped by the belt. "Baby.." You try, feeling her body tense behind you.
"Please let me cum, please I'm begging you!"
"I need you to let me cum!"
"Baby please!"
"Cum for me, pretty girl.." She finally gives in.
Before you know it, you were coming, your orgasm crashing over your body in sync with the waves crashing below. Wanda continues to fuck you through your orgasm, letting herself enjoy the sight of you falling apart in her arms.
You hear her moan loudly, thrusts slowing as she releases with you. Wanda holds onto you tightly, the grip on her belt gone as you stand breathing heavily, your hearts beating together as you catch your breath. She gives you a minute before sliding out of you carefully and sitting you on the table.
You can barely sit up, freezing, and now even more sore than you already were. You watch with half lidded eyes as Wanda does her pants up, buckling her belt. She takes the knife and puts it behind her before taking off her hoodie. You could see a red shirt on her.
The hoodie is warm and smells like her as she slides it over your head, putting your arms in the holes. She pulls up the shorts and puts the hood over your head, tucking your hair behind your ears. You close your eyes as she lifts you up bridal style, carrying you out of the wooden structure.
You remember resting your head against her neck, thinking you had never felt softer skin before. You remember the warm sun shining through the trees as she carried you through the woods to her house. You remember the sound of hot water running. The feeling of her hands scrubbing your body clean. The sound of a match flicking. The smell of Wanda as warm clothes were put on your body.
Wanda slides in front of you in the bed, holding you tightly in her embrace. You grab onto her. She pulls the blanket over you both. 4 kisses on your head. The feeling of sleep taking over. The thought that nothing was going to be the same.
Your shadow whispering in your ear,
"Sweet dreams, little mouse.."
486 notes · View notes
finelinevogue · 3 months
Text
a montage of love
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summary - a fan has put together a small video of some of your best moments together
word count - ~1.5k
pairing - boyfriend!harry x youtuber!reader
The video screen filled with pictures of you and Harry along with the title ‘A quiet love like Harry and Y/Ns’.
The ten minute video was a fan-made compilation of moments between you and Harry that were quiet love moments. Moments where you didn’t say the words ‘I love you’ out loud, but the actions were louder than words anyways.
The fan put a disclaimer on the screen and claimed that they didn’t own any of the content.
You was a YouTuber so a lot of the content came from her channel, since Harry was always so proud and happy to be on your channel.
The video then started.
>>>>Clip 1:
The background was noise, since you were in a restaurant.
You and Harry were sat on the same side of the green velvet booth, shoulder to shoulder as if it were a pain to be sat apart.
The camera was placed on the table in front of you. You didn’t want to film the whole evening, since it was along time you and Harry couldn’t afford to waste, but you wanted to record a little just for memories.
Harry’s hand comes into view to hold yours that’s resting on the table. When you accept his hand, he brings them both up to his lips to give your skin a soft kiss.
“I love you.” He said quietly, but the camera picks it up.
“I love you too.” You blushed and rested your head against his shoulder affectionately.
“You want the last bite of my chocolate cake?” He asked you.
You nodded against his shoulder and he brought his other hand, fork loaded with a chocolate bite delight up to your mouth for you.
You ate it swiftly, not allowing any crumbs.
That bite was Harry’s way of saying I love you, again, but just in a different way.
>>>>Clip 2:
Standing in front of the floor length mirror in your house, you filmed for a winters walk vlog.
Lulu, your dog, padded around by your feet, awaiting her walk.
You were showing your outfit.
“My leggings are from H&M; cheap and cheerful my lovelies! The hoodie is from Harry’s wardrobe, but I believe it’s not cheap and cheerful. Don’t ask me why it isn’t, when it’s literally just a blue hoodie…”
You often joked about Harry’s incessant need to buy expensive clothes when he could be better spending it elsewhere… like on you!
“The coat is from Zara, I think, but I bought it from Vinted. Grabbed a great price for it and we’re preventing fast fashion in this household. And finally my ugly walking boots are from Go Outdoors. Sexy, I know!” You joked.
Harry walked in behind you then, dressed in a similar attire only with black running shorts over his leggings.
“Ready?” You asked him.
“Not until you bloody zip your coat up.” Harry huffed, picking up the keys from the key bowl by the front door.
“I don’t need to.”
“Yeah, nice try you.” He laughed and then his was before you, taking matters into his own hands and zipping up your coat for you.
Technically one of your hands was filming and the other was controlling Lulu, so there wasn’t much you could do anyways.
“So annoying.”
“Huff and pout all you like, but I’m saving you from a life of misery and cold.” He looked proud of himself after he zipped you up.
“Happy now?” You sarcastically asked.
“Not without a kiss I’m not.”
You pretended like that was a chore, but really you were excited to give him a kiss. The video stopped then, because you weren’t one to expose your PDA to the public.
>>>>Clip 3:
In the same video, you filmed your walk with Harry and Lulu.
You went on a walk alongside a canal, stopping off around at a little book swap along the way. Harry picked up a book and so did you, Harry offering to carry them both as you were walking Lulu.
You were walking canal side when Harry tugged on your hand and pulled you across him.
“What are you doing?” You laughed, Lulu happily walking ahead of you both.
“Making sure you’re less likely to fall in the canal, especially if Lulu tugs you.”
Harry was now walking canal side, holding your hand with his.
You made sure the camera caught the moment where you kissed his cheek in silent thanks, forever indebted to his gentlemanly capabilities.
>>>>Clip 4:
The room is bright as the sunset burns through the room.
You are sat on the floor, in front of the sofa in the living room, filming a segment of a video where you answer fan questions.
“What did Harry get you for Christmas?” You read out the question that you were asked via Instagram.
“He decided to get me a weighted blanket, because every time he goes away I find it quite difficult to fall asleep. The idea of the weighted blanket is to mimic him lying across me, which makes me feel more safe and calms me into sleeping better.”
You blushed as you answered, picking up your cup of tea to take a sip of it to hide your embarrassment.
You paused to think about you opening that gift and how happy you had been in that moment. Harry knew not to buy you anything that was expensive or materialistic. He bought you something practical and perfect, plus the he bought it in your favourite colour; yellow.
It was such a thoughtful gift and even more thoughtful coming from a man who could’ve easily bought you a meaningless yacht if he wanted.
The front door then unlocked and you turned to see who it was.
“Hey, m’love.” Harry said as he walked through, Pleasing tote bag on his shoulder and wrapped for winter.
“Hello, you. How was your day?” You asked him, watching him take off his coat and shoes.
“Busy, but good. Yeah, we wrote an entire verse which I’m proper happy with.”
“I’m just filming a bit for my next vlog, but I’ll make is dinner in a bit.” You promised, knowing he would be hungry after a full day in the studio.
Harry walked over to you, with a bunch of colourful tulips in his hand. He crouched down beside you, waving into the recording camera before handing over the flowers to you.
“For me?” You pouted at how sweet the gesture was, “Why?”
“Does there have to be a reason?”
“Harry…” You whined, feeling like you could cry. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay. You’re worth more than that, which is why takeaway is on me tonight.” He kissed your forehead - aware that the camera was still rolling.
“It’s always on you, honey.” You joked.
“That’s right. Treat you so well, don’t I?”
You couldn’t argue with him there.
“Did you eat today?” You asked him, concerned for his wellbeing as much as he is for yours.
“I did. Mitch brought us a couple boxes of sushi.”
“As long as you’ve had something, that’s all I care about.”
“Oh what would I do without you, my love?” Harry asked you, kissing your cheek.
“Perish.”
“That’s one word for it.”
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corroded-hellfire · 5 months
Text
My Favorite Elf - Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: When you and Nancy go to the mall to finish up your Christmas shopping, the sound of a familiar voice leads you to a jolly surprise.
Note: I wrote this for @palomahasenteredthechat’s 12 Days of Joemas with the prompt “Is that velvet?” 💚❤️
Words: 1.4k
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The holiday season at Starcourt Mall can be a chaotic nightmare on nights and weekends. Crowds so dense you can hardly see any of the mannequins modeling the latest looks at the GAP. It’s for this reason that you and Nancy decide to make a mall run straight from school one Tuesday afternoon. 
With most parents still at work and middle and elementary schools still in session, the mall is the calmest you’ve seen since before Halloween. You and Nancy plan on taking full advantage of getting all those last minute gifts you’ve been meaning to buy.
“Okay, I got the shoes,” Nancy says, jostling the brown paper bag in her hand in emphasis. “You wanted to go to Walden Books next?”
“Yeah!” you say. “I saw this book there the other day and I think Eddie would really like it.”
“Why didn’t you get it for him then?”
“He was with me,” you laugh. “As busy as it was, I still think he would’ve noticed me buying something.”
The bookstore is on the second floor, so you and Nancy have to take the escalators closest to the food court. Right before you lift your foot to hover over the silver steps, you hear a familiar voice coming from behind the escalators. 
“Are you ready? Come on, we’ll go up together.”
Your brow furrows in puzzlement, and Nancy turns to look at you with the same expression mirrored on her face. Together, you walk around to see what Eddie is doing at the mall and who he’s talking to.
A Winter Wonderland greets you and Nancy as you step around the towering escalators. The centerpiece is a life-size gingerbread house decorated with every type of candy you can think of. Colorful gumdrops frame the front door, pieces of licorice act as shutters to the icing windows, and oversized swirling lollipops stand around the house like a security team. 
Fake pine trees dot the scenery, their needles covered in fake snow. In fact, fake snow permeates about every spare inch on the display. It’s all around the platform and heavily dusted over the roof of the house. 
Sitting right in the middle of it all is the man himself: Santa Claus. He’s perched atop a large red throne smack dab in the middle of the wonderland. The entire display is surrounded by a white, glittery snowflake fence. 
There’s a girl dressed as an elf in a green tulle skirt and red tights standing behind a camera facing the big man. Your eyes then come across the best sight of all.
Your hand comes up to cover your enormous grin as you take in your boyfriend in his very own elf attire. The left half of his button up shirt is red, while the right half is entirely green. The same is true of the pants, just reversed; a green left leg and a red right leg. His hair is tucked up in a bun at the base of his neck and the rest of his curls are hidden by the green Santa hat on top of his head. The hat has golden jingle bells on the top and fake points to rest on top of Eddie’s ears to give the magical illusion of elf ears. The part that tickles you the most though is the shoes. They’re green with pointed toes that curl up, with a golden jingle bell attached to the tip of each. 
“Did you know he was working here?” Nancy asks you, a few giggles escaping her. 
“No!” You laugh but find it strange to look at his hands and see no chunky silver rings. 
The only people in the line to meet Santa are a little girl with long blonde hair, half up in a pink ribbon, and her mother. It’s understandable that there's hardly a crowd here on a Tuesday afternoon. The little girl looks scared and won’t let go of her mom’s hand no matter how much she encourages her. 
Eddie walks over to the girl and crouches down to her level.
“Hi. My name is Eddie. What’s your name?”
“Christina,” she answers softly.
“It’s nice to meet you, Christina. Are you a little nervous to meet Santa?”
She nods her head.
Eddie offers her his hand. “What if we go up there together?”
Christina still looks hesitant.
“You don’t have to be afraid of him,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “He just wants to know what you want for Christmas so us elves can get to work on it. That is…if you’re on the nice list.” Eddie tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. “You have been good this year, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought! Now, do you want to come up and tell Santa what you want?”
Christina stares at Eddie with wide blue eyes for a few moments before she nods her head. Eddie gives her a smile and extends his hand again. This time, Christina takes it. 
You watch as Eddie leads the small girl up to Santa and tells him her name. He crouches down and stays there until Christina seems more comfortable with Santa. When she climbs on his lap, Eddie steps aside so she can share what she wants with Santa in private. 
Once a picture has been snapped, Christina hops off of Santa’s lap and Eddie gives her a candy cane before she leaves the little Christmas village with her mom.
There’s nobody else in line to meet Santa, but he’s still scheduled to be there for another two hours according to the sign. The photographer elf starts cleaning up around her area and Eddie shuffles around his small space, looking for something to do. You take the opportunity to walk closer to the magical scene, Nancy right behind you.
“And here I thought Hermey the little elf dentist was the cutest elf I’ve ever seen,” you say as you approach the fence.
Eddie looks up and you immediately see his cheeks darken, but he gives you a bright smile.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks.
“Shopping,” Nancy answers, holding up her bags as proof.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, looking at all the festiveness around him.
“I’m just here for the candy canes.” He laughs when you pinch your eyebrows together. “Figured I’d get a holiday job and make some extra money.”
“What for?” you ask, knowing there’s nothing you want that could cost more than a few dollars. And that Wayne will probably just get a new mug. Again.
“Well,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I know your favorite band is starting a tour next month…”
“My favorite band besides Corroded Coffin,” you say, pointing an index finger at him.
“Yes, of course, that goes without saying.”
“Eddie, you didn’t have to do this,” you tell him, though your heart grows three sizes at the gesture.
“I wanted to,” he says with a bashful shrug. 
You peek behind the gingerbread house and raise your eyebrows at Eddie when you see it’s away from any possible prying eyes. He chuckles and nods his head in that direction.
“Be right back,” you tell Nancy.
“Take your time,” she teases.
Eddie helps you over the snowflake fence and you take another look at his costume. He looks even cuter in it closer up.
“Is that velvet?” you ask.
“No, thank God. Cotton. This already gets hot enough.”
“Look at my adorable elf boyfriend,” you say with a playful smirk.
His face starts to turn red as you wrap your arms around his neck. He places his hands on your waist and gives a small squeeze.
“You know,” you muse, tilting your head to the side. “You didn’t ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“If I’ve been good this year.”
Eddie laughs and leans in to nudge his nose against yours.
“Because I already know the answer to that one. Pretty sure I contributed to it,” he says in a low voice, causing goosebumps to run down your arms.
He presses his lips over yours and holds you up against his body as he claims your mouth. Your hands slide into his hair, and it makes the green hat move, causing the little bell to jingle.
You pull away, unable to keep kissing because you’re full of giggles. Eddie sighs.
“Fine,” he whispers. “I guess we’ll just have to get naughty later then.”
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514 notes · View notes
dreamgrlarchive · 6 months
Text
A Prissy Girl’s Guide to Spring
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since i won’t be active on tumblr when next spring comes around, and i’ve done 3/4 seasons, i felt it was appropriate to go ahead and finish the series! if you find yourself inspired by my aesthetic/looks, you can absolutely use this as a guide for the next primavera season! 🐇
what’s the look this spring?
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my personal forecast for fashion spring ‘24 is “pink pilates bimbo” for sure. the renewal of spring is the time for a wellness reset. so i’ll be engaging in a physical activity but i’ll still be in barbie attire. pink athleisure pieces with super girly additions is my predicted aesthetic. 🎀
first and foremost…
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let’s talk about what spring symbolizes: renewal, cleansing, and restarting. that makes itself apparent in the seasons colors; the darkness of winter transitions to the soft pastels of spring.
preparation
start spring cleaning and prepping for seasonal allergies. stock up on in season fruits to keep in the house. take up outside activities like biking, outdoor yoga, and jogging. buy new fragrances. prep your skin and hair for the overtime humidity.
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essentials
pretty umbrella
allergy meds/quarterly check up
new water bottle/tumbler
fresh and clean candles + home fragrances
matcha and jade citrus tea
humidifier
neti pot
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clothes and accessories
pink athleisure. the lululemon strawberry milkshake jacket is a must! (or a dupe if you’re on budget)
foldover yoga pants
bedazzled pieces
pastel colored pieces
cute mini bags
victoria’s secret totes
tennis skirts
sheer + lacey tops
florals for spring? groundbreaking.
glitter + sequins
satin dresses
lace up sandals
hunter boots
coach baguettes
victoria’s secret co-ords, leggings and sweaters
ballet flats
ugg slippers + fluff sandals
cute gym shoes with pink/sparkly details
lace up pieces
baby blue is a staple color for spring
ruffle trims
warm materials + revealing cuts
“pastry princess” looks inspired by sweets and dessertz
cropped baby tees
stripper heelz
diamond jewelry
body jewelry + belly chainz
sparkly hair clips and headbands
butterfly aesthetics
ribbons and bows
ostrich feathers
sparkly keychains and wristlets
bodysuits + heels combo
statement jewelry like hello kitty, fruit or desserts
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beauty
pretty eye pigments (try mac, huda or iconic london)
vibrant pinks
warm bronzer
glitter gloss
translucent glosses in pink and orange
charlotte tilbury flawless filter
nars super orgasm blush
morphe 8r complexion palette
morphe nikita palette
natasha denona diamond & glow (favvv)
a bunch of clear glosses
fenty diamond bomb
fenty fussy gloss bomb
urban decay moondust shadows
cake beauty products
joseon spf 50
bright and/or floral fragrances (gucci flora gorgeous gardenia, jimmy choo illicit flower, carolina herrera good girl blush, juliette has a gun collection, yves saint laurent mon paris intensement, marc jacobs daisy fragrances)
victoria’s secret love spell + warm and cozy + la crème fragrances
sol de janeiro body mists
body shimmer (fenty beauty or bath and body works)
sweet body butters
sol de janeiro beija flor
exfoliating gloves
juicy sheet masks
cetaphil moisturizing cream
native candy shop collection
victoria’s secret tease + eau so sexy
5 blade razors and post shave oil
cute mirrors to keep in my purses
glitter nails
lavenders and pinks
protein treatments for moisture overload
621 notes · View notes
aemxnd · 1 year
Text
defile me | aemond targaryen x fem!reader
You reluctantly sell yourself into the pleasure house on the same night Aemond reluctantly pays the brothel a visit.
WARNINGS: pleasure house activity, slight SA, fingering, oral (fem receiving), p in v, deflowering, slight mention of v bleeding, praise, degrading, soft sub!Aemond turns dom!Aemond quickly, breeding, cum play.
WORDS: 4.3k — I am SO sorry.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
My requests are open! 🖤
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The pleasure house is no place for a virgin.
Your family’s farm struggled through a harsh winter and income was scarce, which led your father to somehow persuading you to place yourself in the brothel. “A few coins tossed by the noblemen of the land may go some way to help us get by,” he said, “and the chance of bearing an illegitimate child of a prince and potential heir to the Iron Throne would be priceless.”
The degradation. The humiliation. It would be unbearable. But the mere suggestion passing your father’s lips led you to believe that this was your purpose in life, that you could do no more to assist your family’s plight than to whore yourself to the gentry of the land. Your worth surmounted to becoming a bedslave to perverted men whose wives, bearers of their children, could no longer satisfy them.
You blindly cooperated with the plan to resolve your family’s financial crisis, refusing to acknowledge the depth of the depravity to which you would soon become accustomed, right up until the moment you found a quiet corner in the pleasure house to call your home, a peaceful nook where a pile of pillows laid while the other surfaces in the house were occupied. You placed yourself amongst the cushions, uncomfortably facing the wall while tugging at the hem of your significantly scanty attire, a drape of sheer linen designed to eccentuate your every curve not-so-well-hidden beneath, held together only by one ornate brooch positioned at your hip. Not last week, you would not have been seen dead in such scandalous dress, but financial needs must.
The low hum of seductive conversation and rising moans around the house began to drown out your thoughts within minutes of finding your space. Counting your blessings that no commotion had arrived into your safe haven, you clenched your eyes closed every chance you could find, willing every lecherous occupant to find a girl far more visually receptive to their advances than yourself.
“How about it then?” A deep, warbled voice boomed by your ear, accompanied by the sinking of the pillows you were perched upon as a man took his seat beside you. Prizing your eyes open, your gaze fell upon the outline of a greasy man leaning into you, engorged hands hovering over your thigh as if waiting to strike. Without a thought, you swung your leg from his reach and adjusted the scanty fabric over your knees in some warped grasp at decency.
“N-no, thank you,” you politely declined with a shaky voice, gesturing toward the buzz of activity across the room from you. “I am sure my fellow ladies will be gracious enough to assist you. Good morrow, ser.”
“Hah!” The man chortled heartily, clamping his hand down onto your thigh regardless. “Your job is to serve me, whore, you would do well to remember it.”
You placed your hand upon his in hopes to prize his fingers from digging into the soft flesh of your thigh, but his grip was too strong.
“Please, good ser, bid me leave,” you protested weakly, wriggling your leg in futile defence. “I… I’m not ready.”
“Not ready?!” He boomed his repetition, mocking your complaint so loud that a number of faces in the crowded room turned to face you. “You’re a whore, my girl, you have to be ready.”
Pitiful giggles spread around the room, hushed mutters of ‘frigid’ and ‘virgin’ reaching your ears just above the rising volume of your thundering heartbeat.
“Please, ser—.”
“That’s more like it,” he leered, grasping your leg tighter and sinking his nails into your skin while his free hand wandered to grapple with his breeches. “Say that again when you’re choking down on my cock.”
“No, please…”
“There’s no such word as ‘no’ in the whore house, little bitch,” he hissed, globules of spit firing from his lips as he salivated over his next move, palming at himself beneath his pants.
“The lady said no,” came another male voice behind you, softer and yet more assertive. “You would do well to listen, old man.”
“Who the fuck do you think you—,” the lewd man spat before craning to see the figure behind him. As soon as he registered the source of his interruption, he immediately released his vice-like grip on your thigh and grappled to his feet. “Y… yes, Prince Aemond.”
Gasps shook through the pleasure house as the pairs of eyes trained on your once-comfortable nook scrambled to find a distraction, scattering back to their own business and refusing to look back.
Taking a deep breath, you strained around to see your saviour only to find a pair of black leather boots nestled amongst the pillows. Tracing up the black-clad figure, the man who came to your rescue appeared to be tall, lithe and battle-weary, one of his eyes concealed by a mysterious leather patch which disappeared into his poker-straight blonde hair. The saviour stood defiant and unresponsive, his hands clasped studiously behind his back and a faint smirk cinching the corner of his lips as you looked up at him.
“Th… thank you, kind prince…” you stuttered, brows knitting at the thought of the words that were about to roll from your tongue.
“Aemond,” he interjected, folding his knees to bend to your level. “Call me Aemond.”
“To what do I owe such kindness, Aemond, ser?” You scrambled to cover yourself once more with the flimsy textile drape, grabbing a cushion to place in your lap for some semblance of presentability in the presence of royalty.
“You seem as reluctant to be here as I am,” he chuckled softly, resting both hands on his bended knee. “Were you forced to serve here, gevie?” Beautiful.
“By circumstance, ser,” you bowed your head. Admitting poverty in the face of royalty would surely abolish your remaining shred of dignity, as if your presence in the pleasure house had not already dispelled that notion.
“Me too,” Aemond sighed, nodding in agreement. “Although I imagine under quite different circumstances.”
You would not dare to question what he meant by that comment, but he seemed eager to appease your wordless curiosity.
“My brother Aegon is over there,” he pointed across the room to another platinum blonde-haired youthful figure, his tumbling curls framing his face as he seduced another bedslave. “He brought me here to ensure I bed as many women as possible to acquire experience enough to satisfy a future wife.”
Your vision wandered to meet his eye once more, that same kind glow exuding from his gaze back at you, blinking softly and recognising your fragility in the same manner as his own. He looked upon you as an equal, another human worthy of the same respect and honour afforded to himself by all that engage with him. His instant inviting nature only succeeded in intimidating you more, coming from a man so sublimely ethereal that you should never wish to reject him for anything even if he were not the prince of the realm. Your eyes lingered upon his lips, pursed in thought as he looked upon you.
“Thank you, ser,” you smiled warmly in return, willing yourself to find the courage to reach out and touch his hand in sympathy. “For your kind reassurance and your company when you have other business to attend to this night. Please do not allow me to keep you from your purpose here, kind ser.”
“Dear earthbound angel, I am quite certain you are my purpose here this night,” Aemond half-purred, drinking in your appearance as a man dying of thirst yet determined to remain composed in front of the bustling company in the pleasure house. His eye darted around the room to ensure all gazes had averted from you before unfolding his legs and perching on the cushions beside you. “Tell me, why waste your virtues on the rich yet ill-mannered of Westeros in here? You could well serve in the royal court and escape this hellhole.”
“I believe this place matches my worth, ser.” Your gaze dropped into your lap in shame but Aemond’s pale hand reached toward you, planting a tip of a finger beneath your chin and gently raising your countenance to meet his.
“Do not be ashamed, little dove,” Aemond soothed with a reassuringly authoritative tone, his eye wandering to your lips as he spoke. “Let me show you your worth.”
Aemond leaned into you slowly, giving you every chance to withdraw from his advances, but instead you met him halfway and pressed your lips against his. The contact was brief before he pulled back to gaze into your eyes once more, taking another opportunity to ensure you were comfortable with his motions. This time, you reached a hand to curl around the back of his neck and drew him in again, kissing him deeply. Aemond grunted softly into your kiss, wandering both arms to envelope your waist as you traced each other’s mouths.
The mysterious one-eyed prince pressed even closer to your lips as if starving for your touch, craving contact with you with every part of his body. Parting his lips ever so slightly, the tip of his tongue ventured out to beg for entry to your mouth, moaning into you as you granted it. His hold on your waist tightened, pulling you flush to his chest so close you may as well be seated in his lap.
Aemond embraced you as if you were the only two people in the room, completely oblivious to the stony silence in the room which was once filled with echoes of gratuitous moans, the lewd slapping of skin and raucous laughter, now only occupied by the sounds of your tongues lashing together.
Breaking contact to draw breath, you opened your eyes to find Aemond’s one eye completely blown with lust, glazed and hazy, looking upon you as if the rest of the world around you had shattered like a mirror and all that remained was you, Aemond and the plumped cushions beneath you. Your vision darted around the room to find every pair of eyes glaring at your display, fascinated by the sight of the one-eyed prince claiming his first conquest in the pleasure house. Aegon propped himself against a table with one hand on his hip, a smug grin tapering his lips as he watched his brother executing his plan perfectly.
“Aemond,” you called to attract his attention away from you. It took a few more moments before he finally tore himself away to look around the room, noticing his brother’s gaze and quickly clearing his throat. Hurrying to his feet, he extended a hand toward you to help you up from the cushions. His graceful, beautiful hand had clearly seen conflict judging by its scrapes and scars, but nonetheless gifted in its regal pale pallor. Quickly accepting his invitation, you lifted yourself up and looked to the one-eyed prince for guidance.
“Let’s get out of here, my Lady,” he muttered, stepping down from the cushion pile while clutching your hand to ensure your safe disembarkment.
“Aemond, I am not a la—.”
“If you will excuse us,” Aemond announced to the room, causing a tidal wave of searing heat to wash over your cheeks as he walked you through the crowds. With one hand still holding onto yours, another raised dismissively into mid-air to ensure the pleasure house returned to its usual function with haste. “Please, continue your festivities.”
———
The door to Aemond’s chambers slammed shut behind you so loudly, the sharp crack of wood snapped you back into the room. You froze upon the sight of his large bed before you, smooth silk sheets draped so beautifully, cascading over the edge of the mattress and draping to the floor. Such an elegant sight that would soon be destroyed.
“Aemond, you called me your lady,” you muttered under your breath, not daring to turn to face the man as he approached you from behind. “I am not worthy of such an address.”
Without warning, pale hands softly snaked around your waist and a chin rested gently upon your shoulder, planting butterfly kisses into your neck.
“You are a woman, are you not?” Aemond affirmed against your ear. “You have treated me with the honour, respect and grace of my position and I have returned the favour. You have not questioned me, you have not defied me, and you have certainly not wronged me. Therefore, I see you as nothing less than my Lady.”
Convinced Aemond would feel you blushing, you dipped your head into his touch as his careful breaths warmed your skin. Planting feather-light kisses atop your hair, the prince breathed in deeply, inhaling your presence in the safety of his chambers far away from the debauched prying eyes of the pleasure house.
“Do you trust me?” Aemond whispered into the shell of your ear. Suddenly, your gaze flicked back to the sight of his bed, swallowing thickly at the realisation of the inevitable next step of your evening with the One-Eyed Prince. Shaking your head to dispel your concerns, you placed your hands atop his as they rested on your stomach.
“Completely,” you sighed happily, melting into his touch as he peppered another kiss onto your hair.
“You have never laid with a man before?” His tone was soothing, devoid of judgement. You shook your head, encouraging Aemond to grip your hips and spin you around to face him where his reassuring smile greeted you once more. Cupping your face in both hands and gazing down at your lips, Aemond sighed contentedly.
“Then this will be a first for us both.”
Capturing you in a haunting kiss, you barely noticed Aemond carefully stepping you backwards until your calves met with the hard wood of his bed, tumbling into the depths of his sheets as he stood before you. Aemond drank in the sight amongst his once crisp bedlinen, squaring up to the only obstacle between him and your innocence — the flimsy translucent garment concealing your body from him.
“Gevie,” Aemond whispered in a tongue unfamiliar to your uneducated ear. Beautiful.
He reached to unclasp his belt and breeches without tearing his eyes away from you, swathes of leather and black linen pooling at his feet and buckles clanking against the flagstones as he stepped out of every layer that restricted him. You froze to the spot watching him, swallowing thickly in anticipation and want as he revealed more and more pale flesh.
“You like what you see, sweet girl?” He chuckled, a curt grin eking across the corner of his lips.
“I do, Prince Aemond,” you concurred, leaning up on your elbows to observe him closer. “Do you think me wicked?”
“I think you are the most beautiful sight a man’s earthbound eyes will ever see,” he cooed, planting his knees on the edge of the bed and crawling slowly over to you, leaning down to hover over you, his lips an inch from yours. He ventured a hand to your face, brushing your hair behind your ear. “However, there is one obstacle that stands in my way.”
His hand traced gently down your neck to your collarbone, guiding down through the valley of your breasts on its mission toward your hip, tantalising over the elegant brooch that so rudely prohibited him from your figure.
“Cursed thing,” he muttered lowly, fiddling with its clasp and casting the bronze accessory across the room, a distant clank assuring him he would not be further inhibited by its presence. With a low, hungry growl, Aemond swept aside the linen concealing you and exposed your curves beneath. The room’s cool air graced your skin and left goosebumps in its wake, leading you to inhale softly at the sensation. Aemond was now rooted to the spot, gazing at your frame nestled amongst his sheets for what felt like an eternity as you waited for his next move. The anticipation was unbearable, clasping your thighs together beneath him and squirming uncomfortably.
“Aemond,” you snapped him out of his lust-ridden stupor, beckoning his gaze back to meet yours. Dropping back against the sheets, you reached both hands through his blonde locks to cup his neck, drawing him in closer. “Please, fuck me already.”
“Well well,” a chuckle erupted in Aemond’s throat, smirking gleefully from ear to ear. “This is quite a transformation. What happened to my shy little virgin?”
“She has waited long enough,” you sighed, your fingertips impatiently traversing his back and tracing idle patterns across his bare skin and raising a gentle shiver in response.
“Then my Lady shall not be kept waiting,” he sighed, guiding his own fingertips across the traverse of your hipbone in retaliation, rejoicing in the soft buck of your hips in response. “I trust she will at least allow her prince to prepare her beforehand?”
Unclenching your legs to part beneath him, you spread yourself open wide and elicited an explicit groan from the depths of the one-eyed Prince’s throat.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, trailing his forefinger to meet your mound, shivering under his touch. The very tip of his finger journeyed to trace the outline of your folds, ghosting ever so slightly over your moistened entrance yet still collecting the beads of anticipation on its way. “Tell me, who owns this pretty little cunt?”
Between strangled breaths, you mumbled his name. Displeased with your muted response, Aemond slipped two fingers through your folds, delving knuckle-deep within you.
“Speak up, little dove, let the whole castle hear you.”
“Y… yours, Aemond,” you spluttered, chest heaving and hips convulsing at his every movement. He curled his long fingers inside you, pressing against the ripples of your walls in gentle stroking motions.
“And what would you have me do with it?” He pressed, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you unravel beneath him.
“Pl… please,” you mewled helplessly as he added another finger into your depths, pumping fervently in staccato time with your racing heartbeat, now reaching his free hand to press down into the valley of your hips so he can feel his fingers inside you. The unusual sensation sent your head sinking into the pillow, hands fisting into the sheets and pleading for your climax to release you from the tension within. “Please fuck me, Aemond.”
His fingers pummelled at a breakneck pace inside you, driving you careering toward the precipice before a telltale strangled gasp signalled your oncoming orgasm to your one-eyed tormentor, who withdrew his dripping fingers and left you clenching around nothing. Bucking your hips like a wild animal and fighting against his grip to squeeze your thighs together, you cried out in despair at Aemond’s sudden betrayal.
He watched you struggle for a few moments, glee spread across his thin lips until they suddenly plunged down to meet your clit, his tongue racing in fervent circles around your bundle of nerves and journeying south to delve into your folds. Lapping at your soaking cunt like a man possessed, Aemond’s low moans vibrated through your core as he curled his tongue inside you just the same as his fingers, which now found themselves digging crescent dips into the flesh of your thighs to spread them wide before him.
“Aemond, please… m—more,” you wailed weakly, throwing your head back into the pillow and jerking your hips into his face, craving more friction to help you tumble over the cliff-face this time.
“Needy girl,” he muttered against your folds sending tremors throughout you, splaying his tongue out over your entrance to venture a clean stripe with each breath. “My virgin knows exactly what she wants before she’s even tried it.”
Cooperating gladly, he unlatched from your sodden core and swooped up to capture you in a deep kiss, one hand venturing to line his leaking tip with your entrance.
“Are you ready to take me, my Lady?” Aemond enquired, a considerate tone in his voice suggesting he knew a woman’s first coupling is laced with a degree of pain. The breaking of your maidenhead would cause discomfort, that much was certain, but the sheer ecstasy of laying with such a caring man, least of all a prince of the realm, dispelled a vast amount of your trepidation in the process.
“Defile me, Aemond,” you nodded, pleading, begging for contact.
“Your wish is my command, your Grace,” he smiled, dragging his tip over your folds and dipping in slowly. Your harsh intake of breath met the sound of his teeth-baring hiss as he gently sheathed himself fully within you in one thrust, resting balls deep inside you before searching your face for a response.
You mewled softly, which was response enough for your prince.
“You’re doing so well for me, my good girl,” he praised effortlessly, his one eye roving into his skull as the sensation of your walls enveloping his cock finally satisfied his craving. “You’re taking my cock so well. Does it hurt so, or are you ready for me to move?”
You nodded in approval, riding out the uncomfortable stretch within you by rutting up into him, easing his next thrust before he even reared his hips back.
“Aemond, more… please,” you stuttered between laboured breaths, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to draw him in closer. “Faster, please. Oh gods, fuck!”
“This cannot be the same innocent virgin I saved earlier.” Aemond chuckled under his breath, obeying your command and gazing down to watch his length accumulating a small splatter of virginal blood before plunging deeper, drawing out further and slamming back into your depths so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. “I thank the Seven for granting me the good fortune to be your first…”
One particularly devastating thrust summoned stars in your peripheral vision, glazing over your view of the blonde gyrating above you.
“And your only.”
Another earth-shattering piston of his hips made you yell out in ecstasy, scratching your nails down his back before peppering chaste kisses into his breastbone in an attempt to silence your screams.
Aemond noticed.
“Never,” he punctuated with another gut-wrenching thrust. “Ever, let me catch you holding back again. Use your voice, little dove, scream the castle down if needs must. I will not rest until Castle Black hears me fucking you unconscious.”
Your fucked-out gaze up at the graceful blonde pummelling his cock into your womb set Aemond’s every vein alight, a searing heat coursing through his body that he was sure he would not allow to escape his clutches after this night. He needed to ensure you would return to his chambers every night in the same manner, receiving the same mind-altering fucking each night for the rest of your life.
Aemond needed more than to claim you for the moment. He needed a guarantee.
“Bear my child,” Aemond spoke in an inquisitive tone, asking rather than stating. Laying a flat palm into the valley of your hips and revelling in the sensation of his cockhead brushing against his palm as he thrusted deep inside you, the way he returned your gaze with his own wanton, desperately lust-blown expression suggested this was a plea.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you repeated between gasps and staccato breaths as his relentless pace denied you the oxygen to form full sentences. Hooking your feet behind his hips and clasping around him as tightly as possible, you hummed lowly into his ear: “Breed me, Prince Aemond.”
The mere passing of such filthy words from your lips sent you slipping over the precipice of your orgasm at last, flooding around his cock and gushing out from your folds, soaking his once crisp sheets beneath you.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he purred under his breath, head bowed into your neck as his rhythmic thrusts faltered in turn. “Suck my cock dry just like that, take everything I give to you.”
A gratuitous moan betrayed his own climax as he spilled his seed within you, deftly painting your walls and retaining his thrusts to ensure his cum would not escape your quaking cunt. Both refusing to relent your pace as if wishing you could rut together forever, you slowed your bucking hips and stilled beneath him while he pulled out from your folds and quickly ventured two fingers to push his seed back inside you.
Aemond leaned back to kneel between your legs for what felt like an eternity, gazing at your body slick with beads of glistening sweat and shaking gently in his wake.
“Gevie riña,” he hummed to himself as he drank in the sight before him. “Gevie fucking riña.”
As much as the sight of the one-eyed prince worshipping every inch of your figure made your heart soar, something suddenly dawned on you.
“Aemond,” you enquired, a note of nervous anticipation in your voice. “All evening, you have called me your Lady. In the throes of passion, you called me your Grace.”
“Rest assured, little dove, I meant every word,” he confirmed without tearing his gaze from your swollen core, red raw and pulsing from the manner in which he so monumentally deflowered you, moulding you to his design, ensuring no other could take his place inside your body forevermore.
“But I am not worthy of such addresses,” you affirmed, grappling to cover yourself with the sheer linen he tore from your frame, eyes darting around the room for any glint of the fundamental brooch you required to dress yourself to leave. “I must return to the pleasure house at once.”
“No!” He snapped, throwing himself forward on his knees to stop you. “You shall never return to that brothel, nor any other for that matter.”
“But… why?”
“Because, little dove, you will soon be addressed by the whole of Westeros in the same manner as I,” he sighed contentedly. “As soon as I make you my princess, people across the length and breadth of our country will dub you their Grace.”
You quirked an eyebrow at his sudden revelation, which seemed altogether not so sudden as if he had thought his grand plan through as thoroughly as he had just fucked you senseless.
“I see, and when will you be making a princess out of me, Prince Aemond?”
The blonde one-eyed prince leaned forward on his knees, crawling to hover his lips over yours once more.
“Tomorrow. At sunrise.”
1K notes · View notes
javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months
Text
Every Inch
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Summary: After feeling discouraged after trying on a pair of jeans that doesn't fit anymore, Javi shows you just how much he appreciates your body, regardless of what you think about it.
Word Count: 3.5K
Pairing: husband!Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has no physical descriptions besides the fact her jeans don't fit, because let's be honest, jeans suck no matter what size you are)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, unprotected p in v sex (be better), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, body praise (Javi loves ur body holy shit), mentions of weight/negative self image/body issues, jeans being the worst (let's be honest, they are), fluff, sweetness, Javi being the best husband ever
A/N: Inspired by my own personal battle with my favorite pair of jeans and love for BLT sandwiches 🥴
Can be read alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!
To say that Laredo, Texas had “fall” weather, was generous, to say the least. After spending all of your life in Chicago, you had grown accustomed to the change in seasons from summer to autumn meaning pants, sweaters, sweatshirts, and most of the time by mid October, a winter coat. When you first moved, people were shocked to see you wearing shorts in February, and you were equally as shocked as to why everyone wasn’t when it was 70 degrees out. You had always made fun of Javi for how terribly he handled the cold, complaining every time the temperature got low enough to even consider wearing a jacket. The first time you had brought him back to Chicago for Christmas to experience a real midwest winter, you were convinced that you could have wrapped him in an Arctic Expedition parka and he still wouldn’t have been warm enough. But now, after almost 2 years of living in Laredo, your tolerance for anything less than blazing hot had decreased significantly, signaling a change in the guard from your summer to fall attire in your closet. 
It was the end of June when you and Javi had first moved into your new house, packing away anything heavier than shorts and t-shirts for later. Unfortunately, it had been long enough that later meant now. You shuffled through the things already hung in your closet, pulling out a large cardboard box labeled “warm clothes” that had been tucked in the back corner of your wardrobe since you had moved. One by one, you began pulling out pairs of jeans, jackets, and long sleeved shirts to be hung next to the rest of your clothes, grimacing to yourself at how much you had packed away in such a small box that you had forgotten about. 
It wasn’t before long that your clothes were organized on their hangers, having to find ways to creatively squeeze your clothes into your side of the closet without overflowing into Javi’s equally crammed side. With everything at least in a place for now, you took a step back, nodding to yourself in satisfaction at your completed task, before you looked down to notice a crumpled pair of jeans that must have fallen out of your box when you had pulled it out. 
“Oh, there they are!” You smiled to yourself as you reached down to grab the pile of denim, holding the pants up in excitement. You had been so busy putting away the rest of your clothes that you hadn’t even noticed that your favorite pair of jeans had been missing among the assorted warm weather items. Although the two of you were just planning to spend the day hanging around the house, you couldn’t help but want to change into the jeans, knowing damn well they made your ass look fantastic, and made Javi go absolutely feral. You quickly slipped off your sweatpants, tossing them into the laundry basket by your bed before stepping into the pant legs of the well worn denim, pausing for a moment as you got halfway up your thighs. 
“Fuck, these are tight…” You muttered to yourself, jumping up and down to try and shimmy the pants over your hips, barley getting the denim around your waist. “C’mon, please fit, please fit…” You silently pleaded with yourself, tugging the button of your jeans across your belly, sucking in as hard as you could to loop it through the opening. As hard as you pulled and as much as you tried to push in your stomach, you knew for a fact that there was no way in hell you were getting those jeans to close, let alone fit comfortably. 
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” You sighed, looking down at the denim now squeezing your lower half in what felt like all of the wrong places. You gave the button one last try, even though you knew it was no use. 
“Motherfucker…” You could feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, staring at your figure with your jeans unbuttoned, your mind now seeming to find a way to pick out every single flaw you could find. The longer you stared, the wetter your eyes became, tears now streaming down your cheeks as you wrestled with your pants to get them off as quickly as possible, throwing them across the room in a messy heap. Your soft sobs only became heavier as you looked up at your open closet, wondering what else from the box you had just unpacked wasn’t going to fit you this year either. 
You tried your best to take a deep breath and distract yourself from your dismay by folding the rest of Javi’s clean laundry at the end of your bed before Javi came in from whatever he was doing to find you crying over a pair of pants. You aggressively folded the last of Javi’s shirts after composing yourself enough to finish your task, taking an extra moment to hug your favorite of his, his well loved red Texas A&M swimming shirt- one of the first he had left at your apartment when you began dating. You held the soft fabric against your face, finding relief in the sweet and familiar smell of him embedded in the shirt. You closed your eyes, letting out a deep sigh as you folded it and placed it with the rest of the pile, not even noticing that Javi had been watching from the doorway, grinning to himself as he watched you put away one of the shirts that had glady become more yours than his. 
“Hey, Hermosa.” Javi smiled as he walked over to you sitting cross legged on the bed, pressing a gentle kiss into your hair. “I’m almost done cleaning out the truck. Do you wanna do lunch after I’m done? I can go pick up Alejandro’s for us. I’ve been fucking craving a BLT all day.” 
“Um, I don’t know, I’m uh- I’m not that hungry, I guess.” You mumbled, looking sheepishly back down at your pile of clothes, trying to hide the frustration on your face as you glared at your jeans laying on the floor at the end of your bed.
A puzzled look grew across Javi’s face as he watched you forcefully fold another one of his shirts, throwing it into the pile of folded clothes next to you before crossing your arms over your chest. Ever since he had met you, there had been very few times that you had turned down a meal, let alone anything from your favorite sandwich shop, especially knowing that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast a few hours ago. “You okay, baby? We don’t have to do Alejandro’s if you don’t want to I-” 
“It’s fine, Jav. I’m not that hungry, okay? If you wanna get a sandwich that’s fine, I’ll just have like, a banana or something.” You replied, perhaps a little harsher than intended, trying to use your anger to ward off anymore incoming tears. Javi quietly sat down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your thigh as you looked up at the concern pooling in his sweet, brown eyes, clearly knowing all too well that you were not okay.
“Osita, what’s going on?” He murmured, running his other hand through the messy ends of your hair. 
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.” You huffed, keeping your eyes locked with the denim enemy you had made only minutes ago. You could feel Javi sliding his hand across your face to cup your cheek, forcing your gaze to meet his, only raising an eyebrow at you in response to coax an answer out of you. “My favorite pair of jeans don’t fit.” 
Javi cocked his head to the side, trying to formulate a logical response to your statement. “Do you wanna go out and get new ones? We can go shopping if you need new jeans, Hermosa.” 
“No Jav, I don’t wanna go shopping for new pants, I want my old pants to fit because they were my favorite pair and now i’m too big for them. I don’t wanna try on any other pairs that I just hung up because if these ones don’t fit, those ones probably won’t either. I wanna be the same size I was a year ago when my fucking jeans still fit. I feel so gross and ugly and ahhhgghh they’re just stupid fucking pants and I know I can get new ones, but still.” There was no use in trying to hold back your tears at this point. You rambled as your cheeks grew red and wet, feeling like an idiot for being so distraught for letting a pair of pants ruin your morning, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated that you had gained enough weight since the last time you had tried them on that they didn’t even button anymore. Javi sat there for a moment, letting you finish your angry rant as you sniffled against his chest before lifting up your chin, using his thumb to wipe the tears from your eyes. 
“First of all, it’s not stupid, or dumb.” Javi softly smiled at you, tracing small circles against your jaw as you looked up at him. “Baby, believe me, I had to buy my fair share of new clothes when I came back home after Colombia, and I felt shitty about it too. Second of all, regardless of whether those jeans fit you or not, I still think that you are the most beautiful, amazing, attractive woman I have ever seen in my entire fucking life. I love everything about you, Osita- every inch of you is perfect.” 
“I’m your wife, you have to say that.” You sniffed, letting out a little laugh as the tiniest smirk began to form on your lips from Javi’s sweet words. Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head before turning back to you. 
“No, it means more because out of all the women in the world there is no one else that I would rather be with than you. “Baby…” He paused, looking you up and down, biting down on his lip before speaking again. “Baby, you know how much I love everything about your body.” Reaching down, he grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he brought it up to his mouth, carefully kissing each knuckle. 
“I love your hands.” He grinned, leaning his body over yours. “I love your arms.” His kisses began to slowly travel up the sleeves of your shirt. “I love your neck.” He rasped, nipping at your skin, his kisses now beginning to become wet and heavy. “I love your beautiful face. Fuck, you know you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Osita.” 
You let out a muffled moan as Javi’s lips met yours, his tongue quickly swiping against your parted mouth before pulling away, his kisses making their way back down your body as his hands worked at the hem of your shirt, helping you to raise your arms over your head as he pulled it off, tossing it off the side of the bed, leaving you in your bra. “You know how much I love these.” You could feel his smirk pressed against your skin as his hand freed the clasp around your back, his hands kneading at your breasts, kissing each one before flicking your pebbled nipples along his tongue. 
“Javi…” You whimpered, your breath shaky and weak as he slid himself off the edge of the bed, his fingertips digging into the meat of your ass as lifted you up and slid your underwear down your thighs as they pooled around your ankles. “Fuck, I love your ass.”  He mewled, setting you back down as he gently nudged open your legs, admiring the slick that had already begun pooling between your thighs, your cunt wet and glistening as he kissed up the exposed flesh of your legs. “And you already know how much I love this.” He smirked, swiping two of his fingers between your folds, collecting your arousal as he began to circle around your clit, making you moan. “Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, goddamn. I’ll never get over it.” His breath was hot against your entrance as he took one long, drawn out lick with a broad stroke of his tongue against your throbbing bundle of nerves as he looked up with you, a devilish grin on his face. “Let me show you, baby. Let me show you how much I love every fucking inch of you, okay?” 
You nodded frantically, easily complying with his request as he nestled his broad frame between your legs, draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat, curling his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved. His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, grabbing fist fulls of your comforter to ease the tension already building in your belly. You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 
“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” You reached one of your hands down, tugging at the ends of Javi’s dark curls, as if to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 
His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached down to grab your hand that had been tangled in the sheets, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 
“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 
You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, clenching down on his fingers as they gently pulsed inside you as you came down from your high, a smug look spreading across the slick covered sheen of Javi’s face as he withdrew them, licking the juices clean as he sucked his fingers in his mouth. 
“So fucking sweet. Can I keep showing you how much I love everything about you, Osita? Show you how much your husband loves his fucking beautiful wife?” He smirked, kissing his way up your body as he stood, towering over you. You nodded, reaching down to palm at the bulge straining against the denim of his jeans as Javi began to undo his belt buckle, shuffling his pants and boxers down his hips before reaching over his head to pull off his army green t-shirt that had been straining against the broadness of his shoulders. You shuffled back on the bed, Javi crawling over you, nipping at your exposed skin as snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke his cock before running his tip through your folds, collecting the shining slick of your arousal along his length. 
“Please, Javi. Please.” You whined, squirming your bottom half, aching to feel Javi inside you as he continued to tease you relentlessly, relishing in your desperate state. 
“Such a good girl, asking so nicely. So needy, hmmmm? This what you want?” He rasped, gently pushing himself inside you, making you gasp as his hips flushed with yours, feeling his cock bottom out against your cervix. His thickness made you breathless, only able to whimper and nod in response as every inch of him filled you. Almost painfully slowly, he began to pull back, his strokes slow and methodical as the lewd sounds of your moans and the wetness between you coated the walls of your bedroom. As his thrusts began to speed up, he ran his hands down your arms before grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head and holding them in place with his broad grasp. He caged his chest with yours, the warm touch of your bare skin pressed against each other as he rocked into you, planting hot, wet kisses along your neck, sucking at your pulse point. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet, Hermosa. I can’t believe this is all fucking mine.” He whispered, his voice low and tender as he slipped his grip away from your wrists, sliding his hand under your back to pull you up, resting his palm on the small of your back as he helped you to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the nape of his neck, and fingers in the dark curls of his hair, the new position making the pressure building in your core grow rapidly. Javi snaked his hand between your bodies, reaching down to rub back and forth along your clit as he punched into you, each thrust somehow more satisfying than the last. 
“Oh shit- Javi, fuck- Fuck, you feel so good, please don’t stop baby, don’t stop.” Javi had learned all too well from the tremble of your incoherent babbles and tightness now squeezing around his cock that you were close to coming undone, and he knew exactly what you needed to push you over the edge. 
“Yeah? I know you’re close, baby girl. Give me another one, Osita. Be a good girl and cum one more time around my dick before I fuck myself so deep inside you. Fuck me, you’re so fucking perfect. I know you’re close, baby, it’s okay.” 
Javi was snapping into you, splitting you open with each thrust, making every inch of your body shiver as the tingling in your lower belly began to build towards your sweet release, your mind going blank from his filthy words he knew damn well were your weakness. 
“Fuck, Javi, Javi, oh shit- Fuck, Javi, I’m gonnahhhhhhhh-” Your legs shook as your orgasm flooded through your body, the cries of your husband’s name quickly turning to silent sobs into his shoulder as your body went slack, pleasure taking over you. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re so hot when you cum like that. Shit- I’m close too, Hermosa. Eres perfecta. Mierda, tengo tanta suerte. Te amo con todo mi corazón (You’re perfect. Shit, I’m so lucky. I love you with all of my heart). Oh fuck me, shit, oh fuckkkkkk.” With only a few more thrusts deep inside, Javi followed suit, milking himself of every last drop of his spend into you, the mixture of your arousal pooling beneath you as he slumped into you, your chests heaving with shallow breaths as you came down from each of your highs. 
Reaching his hands up to cusp your face, Javi leaned in to kiss you, his lips strong and tender against yours, making your cheeks warm as he pulled away to brush back a stray piece of messy hair that had fallen in your face. “I know I can’t fix how you feel, but I hope that was at least some reassurance that I mean it when I say that you are the most beautiful woman on earth, Osita.” Javi smirked at you, rubbing his thumb against your jaw as his chocolate brown eyes gazed at yours. 
“I meannnn, it does help a little.” You giggled, pecking a quick kiss onto Javi’s lips. “Thank you, Jav. I definitely still think that’s a bit of an overstatement and doesn’t help me fit back into my jeans, but it’s really sweet of you. I love you.” 
“Te amo mucho. (I love you so much.) It’s true. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. In fact…” Javi’s face lit up with a devilish grin as he wrapped your arms around your back, scooting the both of you off the bed, making you squeal in delight as you locked your legs over his waist, holding you up, beginning to walk you both towards your bathroom. “I think that we need to take a shower and I can show you again just how much I love everything about you. And then…” He pepper ticklish kisses along your neck and collar bone in between each word as he sat you down on the bathroom counter, hands grasping your face. “We’re gonna go out and get BLT’s for lunch because I know you’re fucking hungry and I don’t want you to be cranky when we come back home and fuck you until you can’t walk.” 
“I’m honestly fucking starving, I could eat 14 BLT’s right about now.” You laughed, shaking your head at the thought that not long ago, you were willing to forgo your favorite lunch because of a stupid pair of pants. “God, you’re amazing. And a fucking menace. You better get me in that shower, Peña- You’ve got a hungry, horny wife waiting for you.”
Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd @beware-my-thorns @deppydelta
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Princess
Azriel x Reader
One of the series I'm currently working on, hope you enjoy it.
You can find the prologue in the Princess masterlist.
General masterlist
Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?
Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and death
Chapter 1
Feyre showed you the first guest room and started walking toward the second one, but your voice stopped her “This one is fine”.
She looked at you with kindness, her features soft and a small smile decorating her face. “You know… the first time I visited the night court I was wearing a similar dress”.
“Your wedding dress… yes we all heard” you smiled.
She chuckled and continued “I was scared, I had only heard awful rumours about the night court and Rhysand so trust me when I say that it’s all bullshit. Rhysand is kind and thoughtful, the same goes for everyone in this house… maybe not for Nesta but she loves us in her own twisted way” You kept staring at her not quite understanding why she was telling you all of this. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that we will protect you and be by your side for as long as you need, even forever, but if you try to harm any of us the consequences will be like the rumours of this court.” You gulped and took a step back, your eyes quickly scanned the room for possible hiding places, Feyre noticed and lifted her hands up “Hey calm down, I didn’t mean to scare you, but you are a stranger that Mor brought here and as the High Lady of this court it is my duty to inform you. I must make sure that my people are safe. I know that Mor wouldn’t bring someone dangerous here, but females forced to wed is a soft spot for her and it might cloud her vision.”
You stared at her, guilt building in you. Ladies should please others. “High Lady Feyre I’m so sorry if I offended you. You are right you should protect your people” you replied, a polite smile appearing on your face. She frowned but said nothing more, with a nod she disappeared down the hall, probably back in the dinning room.
You entered the room, it was twice the size of the main room in your cottage, you stared at the huge bed in the middle, the windows that looked like paintings because of the view outside. Soft fae lights decorated the room creating a gentle atmosphere. A sigh left your lips and you walked to the closet, curious if you would find anything inside, you really needed to get rid of this dress. To your surprise the closet was filled with every kind of clothes but none like your usual attire. Everything here was so revealing, you remembered one time that you saw a dress like those back in the winter court, you quickly tried it on but immediately regretted it when you saw your mother’s face filled with disgust. Ladies keep their bodies for their husbands. Only the females working in the brothels wear things like that.
You opened the drawers to find something less revealing and you were met with multiple pairs of pants and shirts. You almost gasped. There must have been some mistake maybe a male was staying in this room before me. You thought. A female can’t wear those, right? You grabbed a long-sleeved nightgown and entered the bathroom. You were met with a deep bathtub. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you jumped back when water started to pour in it. You scanned the bathroom, but no one was there. Maybe some kind of spell? You stripped your clothes and entered the bathtub hissing when your leg touched the water. So hot you thought and closed your eyes as you laid inside, every muscle relaxed, your body going numb but not in a bad way. When you boiled water, you always thought how it would be like if for once you bathed in hot water. Turns out it is better than you could ever imagine. You thought about what Azriel said “raised like a princess”, everyone seemed to believe that, you did too. You saw the females in your village working and you always thought that you were getting special treatment because you didn’t work. But raised like a princess? You doubted that. You didn’t even know the feeling of hot water around your body until now. You stayed in the bathtub until you were sleepy enough. You dried yourself with the soft towel and tried the nightgown, you frowned when you saw the length… mid-thigh. You pulled it until it reached beneath your knees and slipped into bed. You stared at the ceiling; you were exhausted but the feeling that anyone could walk in at any time kept you awake.
Sleep finally came and your body relaxed -still facing the door.
You woke up just when the sun appeared in the sky, the city even brighter. You watched the river, so calm yet wild. You tried to find a dress decent enough for your taste -or your mother’s taste, finally you saw one, midnight blue with long sleeves and it reached your knees. This will do. You thought. You usually wore light colours since your mother believed that a proper lady should look gentle and sweet, but this colour looked good on you too, it made you look powerful.
You walked around the house enjoying the silence and trying to find the kitchen. After countless guest rooms and bathrooms, you finally found it.
You searched the cabinets and after collecting all the ingredients you needed you started cooking. You hummed a song your mother had taught you and twirled around to pick the spatula almost smacking on a hard chest. You gasped and took a step back, hazel eyes were staring down at you, a musky scent of cedar and smoke filling your senses. Azriel’s face was cold, even colder that the ice in your court, the thought made you shiver.
“What are you doing?” he questioned, his deep voice was raspy probably because he just woke up.
“Breakfast” you stuttered. You wanted to disappear.
“The house can do that” he rolled his eyes and left.
You frowned and continued cooking, feeling stupid for even trying but you wanted to thank them for taking you in and cooking was one of the few things you could do.
You finished the food and placed it on the dining table, footsteps echoed through the house and a few minutes later everyone was in the dining room. “Smells so good” Cassian breathed and started filling his plate. “You made that?” Feyre asked.
“Yes, as a thank you for accepting me in your court” you replied with a small smile.
Azriel stared at his plate, it was still empty. Suddenly a platter with several kinds of food appeared next to him and he started to eat. You frowned but didn’t dare to say anything.
“Y/n, would you like to go shopping with me today?” Mor asked you.
You glanced at Rhysand and Feyre.
“You don’t have to wait for our approval” Feyre’s voice was soft.
“But before you leave, I need to see you in my office” Rhysand added.
You gulped but nodded anyway.
Your attention moved to Azriel who dropped his fork and stared at Rhysand, their eyes unfocused. “They are having a mental conversation” Cassian told you as he noticed your curious look.
“You can talk in each other’s minds?” you gaped. “Rhysand is daemati” Nesta spoke with a bored look.
You didn’t know what else to say, your questions seemed to annoy her, so you kept your mouth shut. A few moments later Azriel stormed out and Rhysand pinched his nose.
“Let’s go to my office” he told you and got up, you followed him and almost flinched when you saw Azriel already in there. Rhysand took a seat behind his desk and cleared his throat. “I asked Azriel to go back to your court and find out everything he could about you and your family. Turns out that everything you told Mor was true, so it is my pleasure to welcome you in my court.” “Thank you” you bowed your head. “Please don’t do that, I want you to consider me your friend. I want to help you find your own personality, you need to find your own strength. Your goal should be to become powerful and confident not someone’s wife.” He continued. You could only stare, no one ever spoke to you like that, no one offered to help you become something else.
“I know that you and Azriel don’t get along, that’s why he is assigned to show you the city and help you with everything you need. I hope this will be enough for you to toughen up”
Silence.
Your jaw almost touched the ground. Azriel was fuming, he opened his mouth to protest but Rhysand lifted a finger and dismissed you both with a “That’ll be all” and a smile.
You exited the office and were pushed against the wall, scarred hands grabbed your arms and kept them above your head, a hot breath against your cheek.
“You won’t speak without my permission, you won’t follow me around like a toddler and you won’t seek me out. I will come find you when I want to.” He growled. “Is that understood?”
You stared at him, your eyes filling with tears and your body shaking. You frantically nodded your head wanting to get as far away from him as you could.
“Words princess” “Y-yes” you stuttered.
And with that he was gone, only a few shadows stayed who approached you and caressed your cheeks, drying the tears you weren’t able to hold back.
You couldn’t go to Rhys you knew he would tell Azriel, and you didn’t want to find out what the consequences would be for you. You went back to your room.
You dreaded the moment he would find you again.
What do you think?
@cleverzonkwombatsludge
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peeweekey · 23 days
Text
8:05 | SAM
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word count: 3.2k
summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.
tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol
a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!
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it’s cold.
the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.
you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.
meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.
the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.
well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.
you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.
you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.
there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.
walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.
he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.
though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.
you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.
sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.
you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”
a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.
“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”
your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.
your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).
“you don’t wanna?”
“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”
sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.
he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!
you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”
sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”
you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.
“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”
sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.
how endearing.
you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.
annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.
your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.
his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.
sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.
“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”
you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”
he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”
“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”
“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”
“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”
your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.
you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.
sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—
“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”
you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.
“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”
“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”
you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”
sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.
“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.
this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.
and his mother is calling him.
“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”
you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.
though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.
there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.
though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.
“what are you two doing here?”
“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”
sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”
you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.
“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”
you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.
thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.
“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”
sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.
“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”
the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”
“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”
“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”
“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”
“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.
the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.
“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”
and embarrassing.
“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”
“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.
“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”
sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.
“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”
your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”
he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.
“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”
that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.
and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.
you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.
sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.
“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”
you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”
sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.
he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”
“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”
“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”
you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.
“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”
“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.
you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.
your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.
his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.
you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.
sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.
you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.
but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.
disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.
“oh shit.”
the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.
“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.
he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.
abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.
your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.
you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.
outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)
still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.
you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).
you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.
not when you feel so warm.
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a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.
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reallyromealone · 3 months
Note
We want more of this please 🙏🥺
https://www.tumblr.com/reallyromealone/735239715115106304/i-can-already-imagine-what-will-jean-and-barbaras
Title: meeting the in-laws
Fandom: genshin impact
Warnings: male reader, fluff, innuendos
Notes: none
☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️
(name) was jovial with his life, his beloved husband even going as far as to build a small temple for (name) in the grand mansion they lived in. Pantalone learned fast that fancy gifts didn't hold the weight that love and time did, the spectacled man often making time in his busy schedule to make it home for dinners or lunches when he could, of course never leaving without some loving from his sweetheart.
"A letter from my sister's!" Pantalone learned that (name) was the middle sibling of three, a younger sister who took his mantle of Deaconess at their church and an elder sister who was a knight, something that made Pantalone hesitant "they wish to meet you!" His precious bunny seemed over the moon that his beloved family wanted to meet his husband "they couldn't come to the wedding so they wish to meet you! They're coming to visit next month!"
Pantalone didn't know how to approach this, his sweet little snow bunny so happy that his sisters were visiting but he knew them both and knew the elder would be at his throat in a second...but not if (name) was present.
He was like a cute little shield.
With each day passing (name) could barely keep his excitement contained, Pantalone having to fuck the energy out of the other to keep him less of a tornado.
"They're here!" (Name) said rushing down to the foyer to see his two sisters in winter attire "(name)!" Barbara squealed as she ran to her older brother who beamed "how are you (name)?" Jean asked she looked over her younger brother who beamed "I'm great! Come in come in! I want you guys to meet my husband!" The two sisters were sceptical, they saw the wedding photos that were sent and were less than impressed that (name) was stolen by one of them.
"This is my husband, pantalone! These are my sister's, Barbara and Jean!" The two sisters glared daggers at the fatui who in turn smiled charmingly, though the two could tell it was smugness "pleasure to meet you both, (name) speaks quite highly of you both" Pantalone said cooly as they went to the parlor, the room warm and inviting as (name) put photos of family and events, weddings and birthdays in ornate frames.
"He has spoken of you as well" Jean said through gritted teeth as they sat down "big house... You two planning on children with a house this grand?" Barbara asked absentmindedly, knowing (name) wanted little ones "maybe in the future, for now I just want to show (name) all I have to offer" he wanted to be able to do lecherous acts wherever he wanted without little eyes watching. "(Name) wants many children, think you can handle that?"
"As long as my beloved is happy" (name) happily slipped his drink, fully unaware his family were all arguing Silently, passive aggressive remarks and rage from the sister.
(Name) showed them everything, Pantalone investing in a whole large room for (name)s prayers and such, it was quite beautiful as if it were a micro version of the one back home.
"(Name), are you happy?" Jean asked earnestly as (name) beamed "I never been this happy, he's wonderful..." He said softly as pantalone had to leave to work, he was a busy man after all.
"Just... Please visit us sometime, promise?" Barbara asked softly to her older brother"of course barbs"
It was ten months later when the two sisters,
Received a letter with a photo, it was (name) and pantalone with a little one year old, a precious little girl they adopted and (name) was beaming ear to ear.
Pantalone was just happy (name) had something to focus his attention to while the banker had to attend his work, banking and other activities.
"Still hope pantyloner stabs himself in the foot" jean grumbled as she framed the photo, focusing on her brother and nephew.
244 notes · View notes
siempre-bucky · 2 years
Text
the one piece
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake had seen you in everything under the sun, but a single black one-piece swimsuit turns him absolutely feral.
warnings: suggestive, no smut. afab!reader
wc: 1.1k
a/n: i feel like one piece suits don't get enough love and here we are...
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Penny had invited the team to her house, kindly offering her backyard and her pool for the team to decompress and celebrate a successful mission. The southern California sun was calling for chlorine-ridden water and cheap beer. Jake stood back with Coyote and Fanboy, watching and internally critiquing the way Maverick and Rooster grilled a few feet away. He was about to say something to the younger man that would ruffle his tail feathers but a sharp jab to his side drew his attention away. “Your girl’s here,” Coyote smirked, pointing his beer bottle in the direction of you and Phoenix. 
You managed to take his breath away with a single flash of your eyes. You looked at Coyote and sent him an excited wave, then you looked at the tall blond, flipping him off and grinning sarcastically. “Not my girl..." Jake grimaced, but he really wanted you to be.  
He continued to discreetly watch as you and the other aviator walked to the pair of lounge chairs. His death grip on the neck of the dark brown bottle tightened as you removed your long-sleeved shirt, revealing your pitch black one-piece swimsuit. “Jesus,” he hissed under his breath as he saw how stunning you looked and how your curves fit deliciously in the material. He was still a man and absolutely noticed how your breasts looked in the deeply cut neckline. 
“You need a pillow to cover that or somethin’?” his friend teased. 
“Shut up.” 
Hangman had seen you in everything over the years that fate had cruelly intertwined your careers. His emerald green eyes had grown accustomed to seeing you in every outfit the Navy issued, familiar with the certain way you tied your flight suit around your waist. He knew your preferences of sundresses for the spring and large sweaters during the winters. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you in a two-piece for the first time on a day off. 
But this certain piece of attire made him want to take a dive into the coldest water on the planet. He’d always thought you were beautiful, not even the baggy flight suits couldn’t conceal how pretty you were to him. 
You noticed his eyes on you for most of the afternoon, even while he played football in the water with the other guys you could feel his glare. It was never unwanted or made you feel uncomfortable, you rather liked when the cocky aviator looked at you. You weren’t sure why he was looking at you so much today, your hair was up and out of your face, and sunscreen was slathered on your skin. You didn’t look special. 
After a while, Jake’s shadow loomed over you, the words of your book becoming harder to read. With a frown, you glanced upward at the source. Your thighs closed instinctively as Jake’s toned chest shone in the light, the lucky water droplets sliding down his skin. God, he looked good in the dark green board shorts that hung low on his hips, the beautiful v shape tempted you to your core. “Bagman,” you greeted. 
“Of all the things to do at a pool party and you choose to read, princess?” he quipped. 
You sat up and placed your closed book at the foot of the plastic pool chair. “You should try it sometime. Enrich that pea brain of yours.” 
Jake chuckled, unphased by your jab at his strong ego. “You’re funny,” he laughed sarcastically and watched as you put your book in your bag and stood up from the chair. His eyes followed your frame as you walked towards the edge of the pool. Fuck he swore your hips were swaying more than normal just to taunt him. The curve of your ass already doing a wonderful job at plaguing his mind with filthy thoughts. 
He turned and saw you nonchalantly pat the spot next to you, your eyes focused on the small blossoms falling from Penny’s tree. Jake took the hint and sat next to you, his knee brushing against yours as they gently swayed back and forth in the water. “I’ll never understand you, Hangman,” you sighed, leaning back on the palm of your hands. 
His eyes darted away, trying not to stare at your chest. “How so?” he snickered. 
“Pretty girls swarm you all the time and yet you choose to stare at me all day.” 
His cheeks turned red as roses in an instant. “You noticed.” 
“Mhm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, looking over at him. “Was it the pasty sunscreen? The book, the hot pink beach towel?” 
Jake shook his head and slid off the edge and into the pool. He shivered at the cold water and turned to face you, his arm outstretched for you. Rolling your eyes, you joined him in the water and let his hands fall to your hips. His strong hands brought you closer until his lips were dangerously close to your ear. “The swimsuit,” he growled. 
You bit back a chuckle. “Of all the things I could wear, a one-piece gets you all hot and bothered for me?” you whispered back. His fingertips brushed along your lower back, two of his fingers trailed along your skin while the others felt the material he was so obsessed with.   
“How have no idea what you do to me every day, baby, but today,” he all but moaned in your ear, his eyes looking down at the exposed valley of your breasts, “you chose that and I swear to God it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever worn.” 
“Jake,” you whimpered, the magnetic force of his words drawing you in closer to his chest, your forehead pressed to his collarbone. You swore you could hear his heartbeat pound against his ribcage from being so close. You eventually pulled back and lifted your chin to meet his cocky smirk. “Looks like you need a cold shower there, Seresin,” you told him, regaining your confidence. 
“You could use one too,” he retorted. 
You looked towards the patio door, the reflection of you and Jake standing in each other's embrace glaring back at you. “We could go take one together,” you offered, slipping out of his arms and making your way to the steps. Jake let you get out first and started to casually follow after you walked inside Penny’s house.
He entered the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist, his lips connecting with the side of your neck. He placed scathing kisses on your skin while his strong hands gripped the outer layer of black material that covered your stomach. “Keep this on,” he growled.
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5K notes · View notes
queenendless · 5 months
Text
🍂🍁💝Thankful (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader ft Various JJK)💝🍁🍂
A/n: Spontaneous short fiction.
Sequel to Spooky Lovin'.
Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate. To those who don't, well do whatever makes you happy.
Lots of characters/pairings, pure cavity esque fluff, with a twist!
All credit for JJK goes to Gege ... despite what happens canon wise.
*Please don't plagiarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC work. Like, reblog and follow instead, thank you.
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The enriching enthusiasm boomed out throughout your private abode.
You watched in beaming amusement through the open archway at the packed company.
Yuji laughed at what Megumi had to say which made the other smile; both close together on one end of the couch.
Nobara gushed over showing Maki upcoming winter attire releasing on her phone, to which the latter was intrigued, both also bundled closely on the other end of the couch.
Kento and Yu leaning against the wall, drinking apple cider as the latter rambled enthusiastically on their latest endeavor, while Ino popped in, praising a blushing Nanami on his caliber as his sorcerer icon.
Aoi clapping and weeping all up in the big TV showing Takada-chan's live performance in the themed parade happening down South.
Panda and Toge jumping in the leaf piles, a beaming Yuta swinging a giggling Rika around through the whisking leaves. Kamo sipped tea on the front patio as he watched the sunset.
Down the way, a car crossed by, with Shiu at the wheel and Toji eyeing the house with sharp ambivalence. Part of him missing his kids but accepting long ago that this is where they truly belong, nodding for Shiu to drive off.
A tipsy Shoko cuddling up with a blushing smiling Utahime in the hot tub on one end and Mei lounging and sipping on cider on the other end with Ui holding her bagged gear and waiting on her outside the tub, on standby, cause he's just that devoted.
Mai and Momo taking selfies together in the backyard garden before teasing a flustered Kasumi after Kokichi gifted her a flower in her hair.
Yuki and Choso; also in the backyard, napped together on the bench under the tallest looming tree, cozy smiles on their faces.
Kusakabe excused himself just to sneak into the bathroom to try out the jacuzzi.
Nanako and Mimiko braided Tsumiki's hair as they sat at the katsudon, smack dabbed in the center of their spacious living room.
Junpei blushing from Tsumiki noticing him gazing at her, smiling widely in return, to which a flushed Junpei jumped from Megumi's stern-faced warning to which his sister complained for him not to scare him so much and a nervously laughing Yuji consoled his horror buddy by hugging him and patting his back, simultaneously trying to calm down his boyfriend going all overprotective brother mode.
Masamichi made some festive themed cursed corpse dolls that were taking up space on the other couch.
Kiyotaka fumbled with his drink as Akari's beaming smile had him and Arata covering their flushed faces from how pure she looked.
Riko and Misato assist Suguru in the kitchen as they prepare the food.
Suguru, knowing you were still unwell, insisted you take it easy and let them handle the feast.
You had been feeling unwell the past few days.
You called in sick today when you felt something change.
You had to see for yourself.
And when you did, you felt inspired to message everyone you know for an impromptu get together at your place. The word spread via group chats, texts, and calls.
Watching everyone enjoying themselves at your impromptu get together heightened your spirits.
Just not for the festive touch.
But to be surrounded by all their beaming warm faces when —
Satoru warped right before barging through the front door with dramatic flair, exciting a few, scaring some, and annoying the rest.
“Honey, I'm home~!” Dropping the bag of pies on the counter, Satoru smooched Suguru fully on the lips.
The moment he noticed you practically glowing, the Six Eyes told him all that there is and will soon be, straight down to the first traces.
In that moment, everyone inside and outside felt the shifts in the cursed force as Gojo warped right before you, startling you out of your hidden viewing spot, his arms wrapping around your figure to catch you. You imagined his eyes trained on the right spot.
“You … you're …”
You couldn't suppress your smile. “I found out this morning. But I didn't know how to tell you both. I had a feeling your Six Eyes would show you the truth – AAH~!” Your yelp as he lifted you up in the air reverberated throughout the house, grabbing everyone's attention.
“Gojo-sensei?!” His students exclaimed in a jumbled mess.
“Satoru! Be careful – !” Suguru's concerns were cut short when he watched as you tugged down that blindfold just to see Satoru's awestruck eyes with your own.
Tears made his eyes sparkling that much beautifully, sniffling softly, beaming with that lovestruck smile as he lowered you down to embrace you, swinging side to side gently, laughing as he smooched your face with so many kisses.
“Y/n … thank you.”
As he sets you down; keeping you wrapped up in one arm, his other arm waving you two's partner over before intertwining their hands together to pull him in quickly. “Suguru~ We've got the hottest scoop of the year!”
Pressing himself right by your side, Suguru leaned down as you got up on your tiptoes to whisper your secret right in his ear. His stunned face was all you could read as he replayed your words in his mind, but he wanted to be certain. “Are you sure?”
Satoru's closed eyed smile and thumbs up added to the buildup. “These eyes don't lie!”
Burning wetness swelled up in those beautiful almond eyes as Suguru kissed you lovingly, smiling at you in the same smitten manner. “Best news ever.”
“Everyone!” Satoru hollered as his arms became yours and Suguru's thrones, lifting you both up, as he floated for literal joy. “We're having a baby!”
“And yes, it's all true!” You exclaimed boldly, knowing the people would take your word more easily than Satoru's.
First stunned silence. Which immediately erupted into cheers and applause of congratulations.
The twins, Tsumiki and Megumi were the first to get up and hurry on over to embrace you, shedding tears of joy.
Yuji and Haibara high-fiving Satoru who was over the moon.
Nanami shook hands to congratulate Suguru, warning him to make sure Satoru took extra caution with taking care of you and your little bundle before embracing you himself. You personally wanted to deem him as the godfather, just a side note.
As those from out front and out back swarmed in as the announcement shot straight through the roof from the loud groundbreaking importance.
After all the girls in the house fussed over you with hugs, advice and offers to help you through this new adventure, your husbands were in the same boat with almost everyone.
Except Kusakabe who was stuck in the bathroom for a while since the hallway was filled with the rest of your guests.
After embracing and congratulating you themselves, Riko and Kuroi announced the feast was ready.
Exchanging kisses with both your loves, you gave a toast.
Toasting to the new addition to your growing unique family.
Now that is cause to celebrate.
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izukuisbaby · 2 years
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⊹˚.⋆ 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 - NANAMI KENTO
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℘. flora's notes : y'all know I'm a simp 4 this angel daddy so obviously i had to do that, totally self indulgent, I need him in my life
℘. female, gn, male reader 💓
m.list | comment or reblog if you enjoyed !
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℘. he doesn't fall in love easily but when he does, it's forever. he will do it all with you : getaway weekends, expensive dates, engagement, marriage, honeymoon to your dream destination... everything you've ever dreamt of, he gets it for you.
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℘. he adores 80's romantic music and has a whole playlist that he listens to on his way to and back from work. it makes him think of you, it encourages him to go through his day and it gets him excited to go home to you in the evening.
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℘. he's the kind of boyfriend who remembers the little things about you and he doesn't need to write them down, he just has good memory. he keeps good care of everything related to you, little things included. sometimes he will come up to you like "I remembered you liked silk pyjamas so I bought you a pair darling" AND YOU'RE LIKE "HOW DOES HE KNOW ???" and he listens to you with such great care and intense attention 🥲🥲 HIS TIME IS DEDICATED TO U
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℘. you're always his plus one at his events. he chooses your outfit and he never misses cuz he knows your tastes perfectly. also what colours suits you and what type of attire fits you the best. if you're okay with it and if your hair is long enough, he will braid your hair and put flowers in it, rapunzel style yk. he loves to touch your hair and try hairstyles on you<3 (i headcanon that he doesn't have any socials but facebook and he saves the hair tutorials he sees on his feed to try them on you)
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℘. he looks at bedsheets and spreads a lot because he wants your shared bedroom to be as comfortable as possible for you. he will choose one w ur fav color or a design that would match the aesthetic of your room. the bedroom is his safe place and he wants it to be yours too
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℘. loves having you on his lap while he reads in his home office. and he kisses your forehead and cheeks every now and then. he reads you the story/article aloud when you get sleepy so he gets to have you sleep on his chest or shoulder
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℘. one of his favourite things is to get in the shower with you after a long day at work. nothing sexual, just him hugging you from behind while he softly rubs soap on your body. it just calms him down to have your skin touch his with the warmth of the water surrounding you
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℘. YOU ARE A PRETTY PASSENGER, he drives you everywhere even if that means dropping you off 3 hours away and he has to do the drive back to get u home
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℘. insists on getting heaters that can be started from a phone so that he's sure you always come to a warm home in the winter. he cannot stand the thought of you alone and cold in the house while he's working. your shared home has to be your safe haven, it must be warm and cosy !
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℘. makes time 4 you whatever the reason. feeling sick at work ? he has his afternoon off now. there's this TV show you really want to watch ? let's watch it together. a new restaurant opened in town ? he's taking you on a date.
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℘. after a long day, he will lay you down in the couch in front of ur fav tv show and run you a bath
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℘. wants you to visit him at work because he loves eating with you (eating the bento you made him). he will always welcome you with a smile as he sees you enter his office and he often signals you to come sit on his lap. he secures an arm around your waist and kisses your forehead then lips and gives u the most sincere smile i have to stop there before i start smiling like an idiot at my screen
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℘. SPOILS U !!! 'nami has so much love to give it's insane, he will grant any of your wishes right then and there ! he needs to be assured that he makes you happy and fulfills your dream life, it's important to him that you are comfortable with him as your partner. plus, he will never get bored of that smile and blush you get whenever he gets you a little something
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© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)
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twstowo · 4 months
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Chapter 1-1 [Sorceress!Yuu x OB!Characters]
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You escape a tower where you had been kept for years.
♡︎ This is the continuation from my other post.
♡︎To everyone that liked my previous post I just want to say that I love all of you and I hope the stars, planets and universe aligns so that your 2024 is the best ever <3
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「 ✦ PREVIOUS ✦ 」 「 ✦ NEXT ✦ 」
Amidst the empty, snow-covered landscape of a long-forgotten winter, a figure draped in somber black attire crossed the fields. His stride cut through the pristine white expanse, his flowing locks of snow-white hair blending seamlessly with the wintry hues around him. The biting cold seemed inconsequential to this man, hardened by relentless training to serve as a guard in the court of the future king of Briar Valley. Yet, despite his noble purpose, he found himself far away from his liege, drawn back to rescue a friend lost in time.
A letter had reached him from the parents of Y/N, a childhood friend trapped within the confines of a tower nestled within the lands owned by the rich couple. Silver had always harbored reservations about the idea of a tower, but he understood his lack of power amidst the chaos that had consumed their younger years. When the plea arrived, urging him to free his friend, he couldn't bear to remain idle. He felt an undeniable pull, a yearning to reunite with a long-lost friend and perhaps seek forgiveness for the lost time that had passed between them.
With determination etched upon his face, he embarked on this solitary journey, fueled by the desire to not only free Y/N from captivity but also to rekindle the bonds of friendship and make amends for the years that had slipped away. Following the map enclosed in the letter, he ventured into an eerie, desolate forest marked by lifeless trees stretching endlessly. Encountering peculiar creatures and treacherous assailants along the way, he pressed on, unfazed by the perils that beset his path. His determination was unwavering; he had journeyed from afar, yearning for this moment since their last meeting.
With each cautious step, he navigated the labyrinthine forest, drawing closer to the rumored tower guarded by a mystical creature claimed to exhale azure flames, capable of reducing a person to ash in moments. Upon breaching the tower's threshold, he discovered an absence of both the fabled beast and his long-lost friend. The room that was purported to house them stood vacant, shattering his expectations and leaving him at a loss.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
You strode along a peculiar path strolling through the dreary expanse of the forest your parents had confined you to. Your memories were a fog, obscuring the reasons for your seclusion within the tower's confines. A nagging feeling warned against unraveling the mystery, urging you to steer clear of seeking answers. Lost in this unfamiliar realm, unexplored before now, you wandered alongside your feline companion, Grim.
"And where are we going?" Grim's fur bristled with frustration. It wasn't solely your desire to escape the tower that wearied Grim; the feline had grown attached to you and relished your notions of venturing beyond to explore the world. Yet, despite days of wandering, the two of you had found no exit from this enigmatic forest.
"Maybe we have been walking in circles?" Your words were hushed, uncertain whether this revelation would soothe Grim. After all, gazing out from the lone window in your tower room, the forest appeared endless, stretching far beyond the eye could see.
Traversing through the forest, you held onto the hope that eventually, some sign would emerge—a new path, a person, perhaps even an entire city. Your resolve remained unwavering; there was no turning back. The tower, a distant memory now, would never hold you captive again. Yet, a chill wind swept through the woods, prompting you to shiver uncontrollably. Your attire, comprised of aged white clothes salvaged from the tower's closet, and a weathered black cloak with a concealing hood, provided little protection against the elements. Grim, your mystical companion, often perched on your shoulders, found comfort in the cloak's embrace.
"If only there were another way to travel," you murmured, casting a glance at your magical feline, who rolled their eyes in exasperation.
"The great Grim isn’t going to carry you on his back!" His retort echoed through the trees, irked by the suggestion. Though capable of transforming into a formidable creature—once the guardian of the tower's confines—he seemingly preferred his diminutive feline form, much to your appreciation of his adorable appearance.
"Well, do you want to keep on walking forever? Because this forest doesn’t seem to ever end." you countered, feeling the strain in your feet from the prolonged confinement within the tower. Your pace had slowed considerably, akin to a sloth's lazy pace. Years of captivity had taken a toll on your body, and each step felt more arduous than the last.
Grim shot you a final glance, resolute in his refusal to transform into a means of transportation. However, he was not without alternative solutions, wielding his magical abilities to devise an unconventional plan. "Pick up that branch," he commanded, prompting your confusion regarding how a mere branch could aid your predicament. "Come on! The great Grim can't do everything alone!" His arms folded in impatience, urging you to comply. Reluctantly, you retrieved the branch as instructed.
Then, with an incantation from Grim, the ordinary branch underwent a peculiar transformation, morphing into a broom-like contraption. Its tips danced with vibrant, colorful blue flames reminiscent of Grim's ears.
"Holy Seven!" You gasped, seizing the strange broom with fascination, astounded by Grim's unexpected prowess. "This is incredible, Grim!" A wide smile graced your face. "But what on earth do we need a broom for?"
Observing your confusion, Grim sighed and facepalmed—acknowledging that your extended seclusion in the tower had left you unaware of certain common knowledge. Brooms, in many circles, were used for flying.
"This is our way out," Grim declared with a mischievous grin, while your eyes widened in apprehension at the revelation.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
Flying on the broom turned out to be an ordeal far worse than sore feet. Each moment aloft sent shivers coursing through you, surpassing even the biting cold of the forest below. Gripping the broom with all your might, you clung to it for dear life, terror seizing your senses as Grim navigated the skies with what felt like reckless abandon. Refusing to glance downward, “Anything new?” you shouted for any updates, determined to keep your focus forward.
"New? Why not see for yourself?" Grim's laughter mingled with the rush of the wind as you struggled to maintain an upright position on the broom. Finally, compelled by curiosity, you dared to steal a glimpse below.
And there it was—a sprawling city sprawled beneath you. Its architecture, a symphony of white and red-hued houses, stood amidst fields of vibrant greenery. Everything appeared serene and harmonious, a stark contrast to the unfamiliar world you had known within the confines of the tower.
As Grim skillfully guided the broom downward, relief flooded over you as your feet finally met solid ground. The sensation of touching the earth after so long brought a rush of happiness, drawing curious gazes from the city dwellers around you.
"After my magnificent assistance, I think I deserve a reward!" Grim proclaimed, his smile wide with expectation. You anticipated the request that would follow. "The illustrious Grim demands a taste of tuna!" His expression held a note of insistence, and you recalled the gold objects you'd brought along from the tower, potential assets for earning some much-needed money.
As you and Grim strolled through the bustling town, you couldn't help but notice the vibrant attire donned by the locals—mostly shades of red. The surroundings were adorned with bushes filled with crimson roses, and the air carried the sweet aroma of baked goods. Selling your possessions yielded the necessary funds for sustenance, and you studied the shops in search of canned tuna. Yet, an enchanting sight halted your quest—a bakery showcasing tantalizing red cakes, their appearance strangely delightful.
Upon entering, a bell chimed, alerting the man at the counter to your presence. He was handsome, with short green hair and a welcoming smile that eased your nerves. Engaging with another person after such isolation felt foreign, leaving you momentarily speechless until he prompted a response.
“Anything you want?”
"Ah! I'd like to try one of those red cakes!" You pointed at the tempting treats, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as he chuckled at your reaction.
"You mean the strawberry tarts?" He retrieved one and continued, noting your apparent unfamiliarity with the locale. "You seem like you're from far away." Your attire betrayed your outsider status amidst the city's vibrant energy.
"I've come from afar." You approached the counter as he carefully packaged the tart. Tendering the money, you hesitated, feeling the weight of conversation hovering awkwardly between you. "This place looks... really lovely..." Social interactions were a challenge after your prolonged seclusion. How did people engage in conversation, anyway? But before you could melt into the floor you heard the sound of the bell again.
The atmosphere in the bakery shifted with the arrival of the hooded figure, their face concealed. While the kind baker engaged them in conversation, you found yourself growing anxious about Grim's whereabouts. Scanning the shop, your worry escalated until an odd noise drew your attention upward. To your shock, Grim perched atop the ceiling boards.
"Get down, Grim," you urged in a hushed tone, attempting to coax him back without drawing attention. But Grim, seemingly preoccupied with exploring, paid no heed to your plea. As he wandered, his paw accidentally struck a weak spot, causing him to tumble down.
Time seemed to slow as you witnessed the unfolding scene—a cinematic sequence unfolding before you. With a horrified scream, you watched as Grim fell down, ultimately landing on top the hooded figure, sending both crashing to the floor. The hooded stranger, now revealed his face in a dark shade of red, while his widened mad eyes looked at you. You tried to reach for his hand to help him get up but he slapped it away.
"You—" His voice quivered with rage. He scrambled to his feet, his fury evident as Grim sought refuge in your arms, fur bristling. "How... How dare you! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" You watched as a strange collar appeard on your neck, and the red headed turned to the baker. Riddle's anger seethed as he addressed Trey, his voice tinged with frustration. "What type of customers are these, Trey? You really can't just let everyone enter inside here."
Trey, clearly unsettled by Riddle's outburst, attempted to placate the situation. "I'm sorry, Riddle. They seemed lost, and I thought—"
But Riddle, with a dismissive gesture, cut him off, his demeanor unyielding. "Don't make excuses. Just ensure this doesn't happen again." With an abrupt departure and a reproach directed at Trey, he left the bakery without sparing another glance in your direction.
Concern etched on his face, Trey emerged from behind the counter and approached you, “I’m sorry, Riddle tends to be a litle explosive”.
Grim, perched atop the counter, chimed in, expressing his outrage at Riddle's threatening demeanor. "A little?! It almost looked like he wanted to kill my Human!" Grim exclaimed, hands on his hips, clearly displeased with the understatement.
"Well, I suppose you could interpret it that way..." Trey's response was sheepish, scratching the back of his head. "This isn't an ideal introduction to the Queendom of Roses for you." He stated while eyeing the conspicuous collar around your neck,
“How do I remove this?” you inquired, only to be met with an unexpected revelation from Trey.
"Only Riddle can remove it."
"No way! He didn't even let me get a word in!" Your frustration was palpable, rejecting the notion that Riddle, the irate stranger, held the magic to removing the collar. “Does this mean I will have to live forever like this?”
“I propose we off this Riddle’s head ourselfs!” As Grim enthusiastically proposed taking matters into their own hands, suggesting an extreme solution, Trey visibly grimaced, swiftly dismissing the idea. Your irritation at Riddle's unreasonable behavior grew, feeling unjustly targeted for no reason.
“If you really want I can tell you were the collared people hide?” There was a questioned expression on Trey’s face, not knowing if that would lead you anywhere.
"Wait, there are more people collared by this guy?" The notion of indiscriminate collaring struck you as incredibly unjust. Despite your seclusion in the tower, the concept of such tyranny was abhorrent. "And no one opposes him?"
"That's because he's the future king of the Queendom," Trey revealed, stunning you with the revelation of Riddle's immense power. The gravity of the situation dawned on you—the consequences of opposing someone of Riddle's stature could be dire.
"Where can I find these collared people?" Your desperation for a solution became palpable, realizing that these individuals might hold the key to breaking the spell.
Trey hesitated, scratching his head, hinting at potential complications in locating them. “Well-”
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
By now, you found yourself aligning closely with Grim's idea. Approaching the other side of town, a large group of collared individuals welcomed you. What upset you most was the maltreatment endured by those with collars—those exempt from Riddle's special treatment mocked the collared ones openly. You, too, had been subject to their derisive stares upon exiting Trey's bakery.
Joining the group, you inquired about their experiences with the collars, growing increasingly dismayed at the absurdity of each story you heard.
"He's nothing but a spoiled brat!" shouted a man, his eyes ablaze with defiant confidence. "We ought to band together and overthrow him!"
"See? Even this human has good ideas," Grim chimed in, nestled on your shoulders. "We should support him." Before you could intervene, Grim walked towards the outspoken man.
"Look! A cat with blue ears!" The group stepped back, intrigued by the peculiar feline.
"A cat?! I am Grim the Great! The most powerful and magnificent—" Grim began, boasting about his grandeur until you scooped him up, silencing his self-praise.
"Is that so? If you're as remarkable as you claim, then I'm sure you'll assist us in dealing with Riddle," another voice chimed in. A man with dark blue hair approached, extending a warm welcome. "I'm Deuce. And you?" he asked, his smile inviting and soft-spoken.
"I’m Y/N, and this is Grim,” You pointed at your cute companion who rolled his eyes at Deuce. “we're here seeking any knowledge on how to remove my collar," you explained, only to be met with laughter from the surrounding group, leaving you wide-eyed with embarrassment.
"Don't mean to dash your hopes, but unless you find Riddle in an exceptionally good mood—" His expression conveyed the unlikelihood of such an occurrence. "There's no way to rid of the collar..." The sentiment elicited audible sighs from some listeners, conveying a sense of resignation.
Cursed be the day I left that tower. At least there, you wouldn't have been collared by some random tyrant. “So what is the plan?” Turning to Deuce, you inquired, prompting a shift in his expression, a broad smirk forming.
"Glad you asked. Follow me!" Deuce's demeanor took on a newfound enthusiasm as you trailed after him. Wandering through the streets led you to a peculiar forest, distinctly different from the lush greenery you'd seen while flying on the broom with Grim. This new place felt darker, stranger, and oddly familiar. After a brief walk, you arrived at a large table, adorned with teacups and scattered cake platters, as if a tea party were in progress. A man in purple attire with cat ears sipped tea while a red-headed individual seemed on the verge of pulling his hair out.
"Looks like we've got someone eager to join the party," Deuce announced, drawing the attention of the other two men toward you.
"Great, and what can they do? Unless that cat can shoot lasers from his eyes, I'm not interested in this recruiting thing anymore!" the red-headed man retorted, appearing ready to storm off.
"Relax, Ace," Deuce replied calmly, though his words seemed to only enrage Ace further, prompting him to hurl a cupcake at Deuce. "That's it, I'm tired of this—" Deuce rolled up his sleeves and advanced toward Ace, who stood up, poised for a confrontation.
"You're not from around here, nya~" The sudden, peculiar voice startled you so much that you jumped and let out a startled scream. Your heart raced, proving not quite resilient enough for these unexpected encounters. The owner of the voice chuckled at your reaction, appearing as nothing more than a floating head to your wide-eyed gaze. "Sorry, sorry. Why don't you join our tea party?" A phantom hand rested on your shoulder, though nothing visible was there.
"What... What's happening...?" Your voice quivered with uncertainty as the enigmatic cat-man guided you toward the table. Nearby, Ace and Deuce tumbled on the ground, their faces smeared with cake. "An invisible cat, two guys throwing cake at each other... What else will I see today? A caterpillar smoking?"
"Perhaps it'll show up later," the cat guy replied with a cryptic air, leaving you unsure if he was joking or being serious. "Now, tell me about yourself~"
As you recounted your tale, the tea grew cold, and Ace and Deuce, their attire adorned with grass and cake stains, eventually joined the tea party. You detailed your tower confinement, your encounter with Riddle, and your awareness of the collared individuals. Che'nya listened intently, hanging on every detail.
"And why were you locked inside that tower?" he inquired, his grin teasingly cheeky.
"That's a good question," you admitted, realizing it had been so long that you couldn't recall the reason. Vague memories of your parents bidding farewell as a man escorted you into a carriage, destined for the tower, flickered in your mind. Struggling to piece together the specifics, your memories remained frustratingly elusive. Sensing your silence, Che'nya spoke up.
"Are you familiar with a story about a sorceress locked inside a tower?" he inquired. The tale was unfamiliar to you; however, you felt his penetrating gaze, probing for any hint of recognition. "I suppose not, but it's curious how closely your story aligns with hers."
"What do you mean?" you inquired, puzzled by Che'nya's fascination with this fairy tale.
"You see, this sorceress was so powerful, surely her magic could break Riddle's," he explained. Glancing around, you noticed Ace and Deuce attentively absorbing Che'nya's words as if they were the most profound.
"So, you think I'm the sorceress?" you ventured, feeling a surge of uncertainty.
"No, that's impossible, nya~" He swiftly dismissed your suggestion, chuckling as if you'd said something ludicrous. "But what if she is listening to our conversation?" In an instant, his demeanor shifted to one of seriousness, eliciting audible gulps from Ace and Deuce, their expressions now reflecting horror at the possibility of an unknown presence among them.
"If she's here, why would she help me?" you pondered aloud.
"In the story, this sorceress is cursed to live forever inside a mirror. Only someone from outside can help her escape—someone she could trust. But she only trusts herself..." Che'nya paused, savoring the suspense, taking a sip of tea. "And the two of you seem to be the same person, just in different universes."
"This is the most absurd thing you've ever said, Che'nya," Ace scoffed, rising from the table. "If that were true, why does Y/N still have the collar?"
"Because she didn't try to remove it," Che'nya promptly replied, exuding confidence. His gaze flickered to you, almost challenging you to prove him right.
Your hand reached for the collar, not anticipating any change as you attempted to concentrate on the thought of it disappearing. With closed eyes, you visualized being alone, solely you and the collar. Yet, there was an intrusion, a presence beyond Che'nya's invisible touch—a touch woven of magic, immaterial yet undeniably real. When you opened your eyes, Ace and Deuce stared wide-eyed as the collar slipped from your neck and clattered to the ground.
“No way…” Deuce’s voice came as a whisper, frozen in place as he stared at the collar on the floor.
“That's great, now take mine off!” Ace dashed to you, seizing your hands and pressing them against his collar, a wide grin spread across his face. “C’mon! I have things I want to do!” Despite his selfishness, you complied, attempting the same method as before. You closed your eyes, focusing solely on the collar, anticipating the peculiar presence, but it never opened. “Why is it not working?”
“I don’t know…?” You were equally perplexed. Che’nya disregarded Ace’s complaints, briskly approaching you.
“Well, this is perfect! Now we just need to get you inside the palace!” Deuce stepped closer, expressing his surprise.
“Wait, Y/N will do that? I thought you wanted someone familiar with the layout and stuff!”
“No, Y/N is perfect for the job.” Che’nya's innocent smile transformed into a sly grin, leaving you bewildered at the sudden turn of events.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
♡︎Thank you for reading!
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eletricheart · 8 months
Note
hiiii! I have a request for donna beneviento. I was hoping for her lover, the reader, to show up to donna's house like normal, but they are sick with the flu. When donna asks why reader came, reader says that they dont care if they're sick or not, they just want to see donna <3 cue donna being a flustered mess, but then panicking internally when reader lets out a particularly harsh cough. Just some fluffy caretaking if you wouldnt mind, thank youuuuu :) (maybe if you're feeling like writing a longer fic, you could make reader have a fever-induced nightmare, and donna is the only thing that can calm reader))
Fever
(Donna Beneviento x Reader)
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*image creds to owner
Word count: 882
ps: ty for the request hope u like it🫶
ps2: not proofread
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Winter was finally over but the sudden change of temperature was enough to get you sick for a week. Usually you'd stay at home resting however every week you would have a home date with Donna.
Hence why you were walking towards her front porch looking like an Arctic scavenger. The dollmaker was surprised to see your attire but didn't pay much mind until she went to greet you.
You were shaking a little but still removed the mask to smile at her. "Sorry I'm late, my stomach wasn't kind this morning."
Donna nodded and ushered you in, getting concerned with how red your face was. "Are you okay?"
You nodded enthusiastically, supporting yourself with the now closed door due to the rapid movement. "Yeah! Just got a bit of a flu, nothing to worry about."
The dollmaker tensed for a moment, silently commanding her dolls to prepare some tea and bring blankets to the living room. "You should've stayed at home, it's dangerous to walk around sick! What were you thinking?" She questioned, leading you to the room.
You sighed. "I haven't seen you this week. I would rather face a thousand winters then stay away from you for so long. Please forgive me." You said, pouting.
Donna was thankful for wearing her veil, so you couldn't see how flustered she became with just one sentence. "Th-That's nonsense, you don't need to ask for forgiveness. But…next time, just call me."
You laughed. "I will."
After successfully trapping you in a world of blankets, Donna lit the fireplace and sat beside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"
You tried to answer but a sudden cough took place so you just nodded while trying to breathe.
You were still okay, you got used to the coughing after the second sick day. However, for Donna you were on death's door. The dollmaker could feel her heart racing, her hands trembling and her eye feeling with tears.
She practically ran off the room leaving your confused self drowning in blankets.
Donna returned with more pillows, some plants from her garden that were for good health, tea, water, a bowl with water and some towels. She even called Mother Miranda, who assured her that in five minutes a crow would leave some medicine at the door.
You were watching her set up a small hospital on the center table with a gentle smile. "Donna, it's okay, I'm not dying, I promise."
The dollmaker shook her head. "You're sick, I need to take your temperature."
You nodded weakly, feeling the hands of Morpheus trying to carry you into the dream world.
Donna was slightly shaking but still managed to check your temperature and breathing. "You have a bit of a fever, I believe Mother will bring some medicine. You should drink some water."
You nodded and drank half a glass of water, settling back down on the couch, in a lying position. "Where's Angie? I thought she'd be trying to steal the blankets from me by now."
Donna chuckled. "I had to lock her in my room. When she heard you were sick she stole a syringe and claimed she'd turn you into her bioweapon."
You laughed, still coughing at the end, but less intensely. However you noticed the dollmaker stiff posture. "I just need to sleep for a second, then it'll be good again."
Donna nodded, kissed your forehead and stood up, getting ready to cool the bowl of water. But she was stopped by you holding her arm before she moved too far. "Please don't leave me, I don't like to be alone."
Donna smiled and removed her veil to lay down more comfortably beside you.
The Lady had only moved away for a few minutes in order to receive Mother Miranda's package, suddenly she heard a scream and rushed back to you.
You were still sitting on the couch, but your face was marked with tears and your entire body felt like it was burning alive. You vision was still blurry from sleep and even though you tried to breathe it felt as if no air was going inside.
Donna approached you gently, trying to not make things worse but the second you saw her you jumped towards the woman and hugged her tight. She guided you back to the couch, not once breaking the embrace.
You curled on her and kept attempting on calming down. She was drawing soothing patterns on your back, humming lowly and controlling her breathing so you could immitate.
It took at least fifteen minutes for you to calm down, holding her as if she was your only connecting with reality.
Donna waited until your breathing had evened to speak. "Can you tell me what happened?" She asked, gently.
You took a deep breath before nodding. "I had a nightmare…I-I don't exactly remember what happened, just the feeling. Then I woke up and you weren't here anymore. I guess I panicked." You closed your eyes tightly and snuggled yourself even more against Donna.
The dollmaker allowed you to lay on her, pulling some of the blankets that fell and covering you. "I'm sorry, I won't leave again."
You nodded. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Your body relaxed and soon enough you fell asleep, knowing that Donna was there to protect you against anything.
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elliewilliamsblunt · 23 days
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(¯`·¸.-~*´¨¯`*·~-. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕔𝕖 .-~*´¨¯`*·~-.¸·´¯)
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Notes!: Hii!! This will be my first full series!! This chapter is pretty slow, it goes more into detail on the reader and her back story. I wanted to start a base for how the reader's plot will be about her feelings toward growing into her sexuality!:) Again this is BACKSTORY, Ellie and the rest of the characters are next chapter. There are a few OCs I wrote but they are just family and old friends they aren't major characters.
Summary: After a harrowing confrontation with her family, she finds herself fleeing from home, seeking refuge on the doorstep of a distant aunt's house. Desperate for a fresh start and eager to break free from the shackles of her past trauma, she dreams of embracing the freedom and joy that adulthood promises. Determined to carve out her own path, she sets her sights on attending a local college, yearning for the chance to rebuild her life on her own terms.
TW: self-image issues, identity struggle, trauma, ptsd, religious trauma, homophobia, internal homophobia.
(if you don't want to read the backstory just wait for the next chapter)
Past tense= italics
Present= Regular
↞chapter one↠
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⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧• 𓆩⚝𓆪 •⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
Winter…
Quiet murmuring gently purred in the back of your head. While cheek tingled numbly against the cold glass, and your arms lazily hugged your heavy duffle bag. Until an abrupt yet subtle jolt alerted your eyes to flutter sluggishly open. The long ride to Wyoming had finally ended, along with a peaceful end to the hell you went through. Your weary gaze swept over the quaint station, dusted with a rare powder unfamiliar to the Arizona landscape. Dormant trees stood sentinel, while locals huddled together like snug penguins. The site was gorgeous, comforting even. But you couldn't help but hold yourself a bit tighter in novelty. Despite the harsh factors that led you into a new state…you crumbled back to being a homesick child.
“You gettin’ off?” the elderly driver interjected, causing you to jerk your head away from the window, only to realize the bus was now empty, his puzzled gaze fixated on your attire, It was embarrassingly obvious you weren't a local…” Y-yeah! Sorry…” you stammered, hastily swinging your duffle bag over your shoulders and briskly shuffling off the bus.
The biting cold seemed to sting your skin like venom, eliciting a scowl and banishing your fatigue. Yet, given the abruptness of your departure from Arizona, there wasn't much opportunity to select the most suitable attire for these foreign conditions since you ran. So, you swallow back your frustrations like a cold pill shoving your hands in your hoodie pockets. Venturing through the busy station, hoping to start your new life freely.
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༺♰༻
You'd never once seen your aunt, besides in the backgrounds of your baby photos. Aubrey was mostly a hushed name back at home—a figure who seemed to have disgraced the family name, severed ties with the church, and retreated to the solitude of the mountains. As a little girl you didn't quite get it, more so blindly following your parent's morals and bubbling a grudge against the distant kin. It wasn't really till your older cousins sneered and gossiped about her forbidden sins boredly awaiting Christmas morning.
“You know why Auntie isn't here?” Brianna hummed boredly to her older brother lounging lazily on his phone. “Cause she's a fuckin dyke?” He’d snort making you gasp over his vulgarity, and a small pout to settle on your lips. “I'm gonna tell your momma you're cussing..” You warned being the whiney girl you were, causing the older twins to scoff. ”yeah Dustin tone it down for the baby..” Brianna cooed mockingly, triggering your cheeks to flush in humiliation and annoyance. Dustin chuckled carelessly with a shrug. “Tone it down? It’s true, she's a total freak! That homo ran off with some girl. Abandoning the people who really cared for her.”
“You guys are such liars!” You exclaimed in annoyance trying to mask the tight feeling in your gut. ”Sure! We’d just make something like that up” Brianna interjected rolling her eyes. “You’re such a little brat, maybe you’re just like her too that’s why you’re callin’ us, liars!”
“I-I am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!!” You’d cry once more trembling slightly in anxiety.
“Are too!!” Brianna taunted back louder than before only for your bedroom door to be slammed open by their furious mother now awoken from slumber.
You vividly recall the fear that gripped you that night, promising yourself never to resemble that woman. Now, you stand, perhaps finally at the correct house, your entire life condensed into a duffle bag and a hopeful “prayer.” Like god could spare you any mercy now…Releasing a trembling sigh, you ascend the weathered steps of the Victorian residence, awkwardly lingering outside, feeling abandoned and cold.
The creak of the door opening was like a thunderclap in your chest, causing your heart to race and your palms to dampen even in the cold. What if she, too, turns you away? I'm sure she doesn’t want to care for someone kid! What if she insists on sending you back to your parents? What if... What if... What if...?
Your mind quieted as the woman's unfamiliar voice called your name, gentle yet tinged with confusion. Her soft, alarmed gaze pierced through you, triggering an immediate welling of tears. Trembling chin, pouted lips, eyes already puffy from your last breakdown. You couldn’t bear to even muster up a reason for being on her porch. You whimpered ducking your face into your palms sobbing softly until you felt her arms envelop you, in a comforting warmth.
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༺♰༻
You had never been one for trouble, You were known for your impeccable character, attending church faithfully every Sunday and participating in Bible study. Your academic achievements were outstanding, consistently ranking at the top of your class. Beyond your academic pursuits, you dedicated yourself to cheerleading and even volunteered to support the homeless community. With a coveted acceptance to college, your future seemed destined for success and a much-needed break from the small town you called home.
You were a “good girl” under the terms of your teachers and your parents whom you cherished even after your clash. But even so, you weren't really….happy in a sense. You had gotten everything you wanted, god had given you a clear path to achievement. But there was no.….happiness. Guys your age found you quite boring, though you really showed no interest or care for them anyway. While girls couldn't seem to have fun with you, drinking? No. Skimpy fashion? No. Boys? No. Sex? Definitely not.
There were never really many characters to choose from, Arizona was more desert than home. Young people were practically running to get away from their faith and the old morals held in town. But you had always been the little girl who kept to her roots. Treading carefully away from danger and temptation. Even if it was boring…maybe even horrific to worry about even the slightest sin to send you hurling towards damnation. You remained pure and true to Christ. Just a lonely girl and her Bible well…until….
Hannah…
Hannah Whitlock
Lead cheerleader, blonde, freckled-faced, and cherished by everyone in school. Her dad was a lawyer, her mom was a home wife and they lived in the most perfectly white house on the edge of town. Accompanied by a pure golden retriever, a big green yard, and rose bushes lining their fence. She was the epitome of perfection, someone every girl wanted to be and every boy wanted to be with.….though you had trouble deciding which side you fell into long before you two had spoken. But despite that, she seemed like the answer to your loneliness, a miracle from god gracing your presence. Yet, you later realized she was more of a temptation from Satan than a divine gift.
It began when the family relocated to the quaint town, embodying the quintessential "American Family." Hannah's mother, fervently religious, compelled her husband and daughter to immerse themselves in the church community. She immediately caught your gaze being a girl around your age attending rather than the young babies, or the well-practiced elderly. Hence starting your spiral into temptation. Every Wednesday after school you'd attend Bible study where the lovely girl would already be dragging in newcomers with her charm. Her smile even eased you into speaking up in the group as the days went on, along with finally earning a friend.
Brief studies grew to become chatting at on campus, partners in projects, and small sleepovers at her lavish home. She had taken your breath away, someone who had shared your faith, your humor, even your music! You were so drawn to the blonde so blissfully happy you didn't care to spare a thought of your “unnatural” desires. Hannah made your heart pump, and your lips tug into painful smiles. For once in your life….you felt…alive. Everything was well, your families got along great, and your parents loved Hannah and you. Though there was a sliver of turmoil in you, and it was clearly evident you didn't want to be her…But be with her…The way your chest would tighten over her small boy toy obsessions. Or when she'd gawk over karate kid….The girl caught on of course…she wasn't an idiot…but more so amused.
However, one particular afternoon would etch itself into the fabric of your existence. It was the onset of winter break, and just like any other Friday, you'd follow the beauty home for a sleepover. Happily awaiting the plan set the next day when she'd let you accompany a trip to Alaska set by her affluent father. Through your anticipation had left the afternoon quiet, and dull. Hannah had suggested you two “prepared” to meet “hot” ski guys ranting on and on about a boy she had met the year before, stirring yet another fresh wave of frustration within you.
Your head snapped when her sweet voice called your name once more. Drawing you to take your attention off the nail polish you were messily smearing on your toes. “Hm?” you'd hum agitatedly causing her to giggle. “What's up?…” she whispered with a soft smile tugged on her glossy lips making you shift in embarrassment. Quiet and ashamed, you offered a shrug accompanied by a stiff smile. “Nothing…”
“Ugh….don’t be like that..” she whined as she tossed away a magazine scooting closer in bed for your attention. “Come on…you’ve been acting so weird since I started talking about Nathan..” She mumbled as she took the nail polish from your hand quickly taking over. “Weird…?” You snort in a tense tone watching her brush glittery nail polish neatly. “I can feel your annoyance from miles away babe.” She remarked with a soft laugh. Her smile effortlessly infecting your lips to curl up. "I don't know... I'm just not... I mean, I'm not into... guy talk?" you stumble over your words, cringing inwardly. "Guy talk?!" she huffs, laughter bubbling up even more. "Y-yeah... I just... I don't know... I mean, how can you be into those jerks at school..." you mumble in disgust, causing Hannah to give you a confused glance."Oh, come on, you don't think any of the guys are hot?" she teases, while you scrunch your nose in refusal, shaking your head. "Not even Warren?" she presses, as you firmly shake your head once more.
Hannah sighs with a soft giggle. “You’re weird…I swear if you weren’t a Christian I’d think you’re a total dyke…” That word….You felt ten years old again…sobbing to god you wouldn’t become so imbedded with sin….” as if…” you remarked with a weak smile. But part of you knew you weren’t like all the other girls, you weren’t boy crazy, nor did you even fathom the thought of simply holding a guy's hand. You were different, selfish even. You talked down about the boys she awes over…even going so far as to privately shred confessions slid in her locker deaming “It was for better.” Yet, you flaunt your smiles practically awestruck over the blonde when you were supposed to be praying to the man whom you “worshipped.” Too blind to see you were entertaining this fantasy of being satisfied as just a friend.
Let’s face it…you were a fucking hypocrite.
You dedicated countless hours to praying, determined not to succumb to temptation while harboring resentment towards those who seemed happy while you felt miserable. But, here you are, nestled in your crush's bed, her soft smile and infectious laughter filling the room. You were in deep... she had you right on the fucking spot. The girl was cunning, adept at charming others and effortlessly getting whatever she wanted with just the bat of an eye.
Hannah smirked, her touch gentle as she finished painting your toes, closing the nail polish with a flick of her wrist. The glint in her eye was mesmerizing, leaving you shamelessly weak, you hated her for that…even to this day. "I don't know... you seem to only hang around me," she hummed, purring your name, before settling back against her pink comforter, beckoning you to follow suit. Shyly joining her, your eyes tracing patterns on the ceiling, avoiding her captivating gaze. "Am I just that pretty...?" she added softly,
You tilted your head a little to look at her once more….feeling her warm breath on your cheek, your nose so close it could kiss hers. Causing you to shamefully fleet to your worried instincts, toying with the cross necklace resting over your breast. “No….just…sweet..” you hushed back with a gentle smile. “Do you have a crush on me…” she countered abruptly in a playful sense but it was more than enough to make your heart stop its flutter and slowly sink into your stomach.
"Please..." you groaned dramatically in response. "I meannn..."She hummed tauntingly, turning to lay on her side facing you, and you couldn't tear your gaze away. Hannah was... perfect... even when you were too scared to admit it. There was something about that moment that felt so serene, so beautiful, locked away in her room alone. It was as if God had granted you a brief moment of privacy with your true thoughts. You shifted to match her position, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her presence. Her laugh…her smile…the way her pretty nose would scrunch…or the way her hair smelled so disgustingly sweet…she was a magnet for desire.
"The way you talk to me... it's like no one else matters," the blonde whispered teasingly. But at that moment, your mind hadn't even processed the idea of amusement. You felt weightless, you felt... honest for once in your life. "Because no one else does... no one else is as amazing as you, Han," you confessed. The blonde girl's smile faltered slowly, confusion flickering in her azure eyes as they scanned your face. In your own confusion, you mistakenly interpreted her disgust as interest, sinking yourself deeper into oblivion. And then, without thinking, your lips met hers.
She was soft... her lips were sweet like strawberry chapstick, and her blonde locks cascaded silkily between your knuckles. And you instantly felt hungry…so deprived of something so gentle and sweet as a small kiss….you could finally understand why boys had been aching for girls…There was nothing…that could ever match such a heavenly feeling…
Your mind was clouded with affection…so eager to finally kiss the girl you've been aching for.
Leading you to miss how little of a reaction you were getting.
A͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽d͓̽ ͓̽t͓͓̽̽h͓͓̽̽e͓̽ ͓̽s͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽u͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽d͓̽ ͓̽o͓͓̽̽f͓̽ ͓̽h͓͓̽̽e͓͓̽̽r͓̽ ͓̽b͓͓̽̽e͓͓̽̽d͓͓̽̽r͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽m͓̽ ͓̽d͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽r͓̽ ͓̽o͓͓̽̽p͓͓̽̽e͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽i͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽g͓̽.
The rest became a hazy blur, a memory you desperately wished to erase. The soft gasp that escaped her mother's lips, the sensation of Hannah's hands forcefully pushing you away...Your gaze shifted to her, once gentle eyes now filled with tears, her hand covering her lips in utter disgust... Your heart plummeted as if a heavy weight had lodged itself in your chest, suffocating you, making it impossible to draw breath.
What the fuck did you do?…
You bolted from her bed, your breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps, your ears muffled to the barrage of insults and slurs spewing from the girl's mother. Snatching your phone and hoodie, you shoved past the older woman, paying no heed to your packed bags. All you could think about was getting the fuck out of there.
You don’t remember ever crying so much….the way your head throbbed, eyes raw and glossy, nose so congested, each sniffle and huff echoing like uncontrollable hiccups. Walking through the quiet, fading streets of the town, you wished incessantly that you hadn't kissed her, hadn't committed that sin, hadn't ruined something so good to make you forget how grey your life looked.
That dying afternoon before you trudged homeward, you found yourself seated in the weathered church where your paths had first crossed. The scent of aged books lingered in the air, the lacquer on the pews chipped and worn, the church bathed in a somber yellow glow that only intensified with the onset of night. Your gaze fixated on the cross before you, its presence a haunting reminder of your transgressions.
You considered…wrestling with the idea of harboring resentment towards your faith…If God merely represented a distant promise of paradise after enduring a lifetime of suffering, was dedicating yourself worth it? Was it worth adhering to the moral teachings of a book your family had solemnly embraced? Yet, you refused to entertain such thoughts, staunchly forbidding them, even at the potential expense of your own elation.
With a softly whispered plea to the deity, you begged for forgiveness…cleanliness..and a promise of your devotion and focus. You got up and left the house of worship walking home with a small sliver of something better…
There was a brief respite between your sobs until a new menace emerged. You stood quietly beneath a dim, yellow light, your gaze fixed on your mother, seated upon your weathered veranda. Her expression was somber, devoid of discernible emotion—a blank stare. Yet, it was enough to render your legs as heavy as lead, dragging them slowly, step by step, until you halted just shy of the first stair of your porch.
Your mother, keenly aware of your tendency to evade her anger, rose deliberately from her chair—or so you surmised from the creaking floorboards. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. "Look at me," she demanded sternly, her voice cutting through the air.…to which you ignored watching tears already beginning to roll warmly down your chin vanishing Into the grass. “LOOK AT ME!” She yelled causing you to jerk and slowly lift your chin before you were met with a harsh smack across your cheek.
So violent, that a small whimper escaped your throat, leaving behind the metallic tang of blood on your gums. Your body quivered, fingertips rushing to soothe your split lip. Only for your wrist to be tugged back harshly by your mother. “Why did I get a call about you coming onto Hannah?!” she bellowed. Coming onto?…”w-what?!” you hiccuped in return. “Don’t play dumb with me! I heard from Mrs Witlock you forced yourself on her daughter!”
No…no Hannah would never say that…
"NO! I-I didn't do it!" You cried out in defense, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Her mom is lying!" Your mother's face contorted with a mix of disgust and anger as she delivered another stinging slap to your cheek. Sobbing uncontrollably, you felt her grip tighten on your hair, forcing you to meet her gaze. "Blaming others for your sins? You should thank your lucky stars your father isn't home to see this!" With a forceful tug, she dragged you back into the house, pushing you roughly inside, causing you to stumble and crash onto the wooden floor. “And don't you dare think for a god damn minute I'm gonna raise a fagget in my home! First thing tomorrow you're gonna get your shit together and head to a camp! you best pray you get your act together or you ain't coming home!” She hissed her chest ragged falling and rising angrily. “Do you understand?!”
You whimpered, stifling back sobs, utterly unable to find words to respond, which only seemed to stoke her anger further. She knelt, gripping your cheeks tightly. "Do you understand?!" she yelled once more. "Y-yes!!!" you screamed. Finally releasing her grip, she scoffed softly. "Get upstairs and pack…before you end up like your fucking aunt."
Relieved to be away from her wrath, you bolted clumsily upstairs. With hiccuping breaths, a busted lip, and puffy eyes, you retreated to your room, slamming the door shut behind you. Your mind raced a mile a minute, grappling with the events of the evening. How could Hannah say such things? How could your mother...even...No...
No…
You're done….
You're done living like this…
This town, Hannah, your damn parents, the church—screw it all! You're fed up with living the life they've prescribed for you. As you pack your duffle bag with essentials—shoes, soap, a measly seventy bucks—you retrieve the solitary photo hidden beneath your cluttered bed. —the one thing you have of your aunt, sent to you privately on your tenth birthday…along with a small note.….a pretty glittery card sent far later than your birthday…
“𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓍𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓉! 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒! 𝒰𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎…𝐼'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝒻𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒, 𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓂 𝐼 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓊𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝒻𝓈 𝑜𝓇 𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓌 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉…𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝑜𝓅𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒…𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝓉….”
-𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓊𝓃𝓉
That moment crystallized in memory—the sparse words from your aunt, the postal photo capturing Jackson's snowy vistas, and her address. It became your lifeline, your sanctuary, the sole refuge amid familial discord. Perhaps it seemed impulsive, thoughtless, considering her estrangement from the family. Yet, you felt compelled, with no alternative. Tucking the card into your bag, you surveyed the dim hallways, noted your parents' silence, and descended the creaking stairs, bidding farewell to the familiar confines of home as you stepped into the enveloping darkness of the night.
The journey to the bus station was eerily silent, filled with a dreadful sense of foreboding. You were barely 19…you were running from the church…your family…college. Anxiety clenched your stomach as you purchased a ticket to Wyoming, boarding the dimly lit bus amidst weary locals. Doubts crept in—Was this really right?…what if things get worse...? No, you couldn't entertain such thoughts. With a heavy sigh, you brushed your sore lip, then rested your head against the window, succumbing to the rhythmic vibrations of the moving bus. Venturing out the south…and into the west.
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༺♰༻
Aubrey—the woman vilified as horrible, selfish, and sinful—revealed herself to be among the kindest souls you'd ever met.….She even proved herself to be more motherly than her sister…. While her sister bore and raised you, it was Aubrey who cradled you through that tear-filled afternoon, offering solace without demanding explanations for your sudden departure. She tended to your wounds with care, nourished you, and refrained from prying into your painful past, instead embracing you in the sanctuary of the new home she willingly extended to you.
In the brief hours you spent with her, she effortlessly instilled a sense of calm, guiding you through the unfamiliarity of her home. She graciously introduced you to an unused room, assisted in organizing your belongings, and even insisted on joining you for dinner downstairs. Though her gestures were undeniably heartwarming, your paranoia about this newfound sweetness overshadowed any potential smile. Such warmth and wholesomeness felt alien, you were used to silent dinners after starter prayers, you were used to coming home to parents who lacked tenderness…you were used to bland. Yet, here you are sitting in your aunt's colorful Victorian abode. Enjoying the nurturing, the simple yet comforting conversations. But the sudden shift unsettled you—there lingered a nagging fear that if you grew too accustomed to this newfound warmth, it might vanish as swiftly as it appeared.
With that thought, the door opened, and in came another older woman down the hall peering into the kitchen confused. Tall, dirty blonde, simple jeans along with a neat blouse and cardigan…she seemed intimidatingly sophisticated. "Rachel?" Aubrey's voice rang out, beckoning the blonde to enter. "Aubrey...hey...um..." Rachel hesitated, crossing the room to stand beside her wife, her gaze flickering uncertainly towards you. "Who... is this?" Aubrey swiftly introduced you, moving to stand protectively behind you. "She's my niece... she... needs a place to stay..." Aubrey's voice softened, her hopeful smile unwavering as her fingers gently kneaded your shoulders. "I offered her the guest room... just until things... get a little easier for her."
In contrast to her wife, Rachel exuded a pragmatic aura, fully aware of the recklessness inherent in taking in someone else's child, especially a runaway. Shame flushed your cheeks as you glanced down at your plate. "Um...baby, how about we... chat in the hall for a second..." Rachel's voice carried a hint of timidity as she addressed her wife, prompting Aubrey to nod in agreement before giving you a final reassuring squeeze and exiting the kitchen, leaving you alone with your worries.
What are you thinking??? You can't just throw yourself in these women's lives?! You need to go home! Are you stupid?!—your mind spiraled while you tried to get a listen on what the two were debating.
“Aubrey…we..we can't…we shouldn’t plus what if your sister..finds out or…the cops get involved I-”
“So what we send her back to my sister? do you see her face? I know how my family is they’ll just fucking beat her and send her off to some psycho cult preaching about faith!” Aubrey hushed sternly in return making her wife immediately quiet and guilty.
“Look…I…I promise I’ll talk to my sister if…that’s what it takes..but I can’t send her back…I know..what it’s like to be in her shoes and…I had to deal with it alone..” Your aunt hushed. You peaked into the hall curiously seeing Rachel frown cupping her wife’s cheeks. And with a short nod and a sad smile she whispered. “Okay…” Quickly, you snapped your head back to your food continuing to eat before they noticed your ease dropping.
“Sorry, for my introduction I’m Rachel..” the blonde announced as she reentered the kitchen, taking her seat across from you at the table. You offered a quiet nod in response, prompting a slight frown to crease her lips. “It’s just…worrying to see a kid…in here…wait…how old are you?...” she questioned gently. "Nineteen," you whispered, to which she sighed in relief. "Well... then I suppose we don't have much of a problem," she attempted a joke, though it fell somewhat flat. Aubrey offered a weak smile, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You've had a long day... you should head up... and...you can stay as long as you need."
Your heart swelled with gratitude, igniting a flicker of hope within you. "Thank you... really, I... I..." your words stumbled softly before your aunt enveloped you in a tight hug, silencing your hesitant expression of gratitude. Meanwhile, her wife offered a small smile as she collected your empty plate to clean. "Don’t worry about thankin’ us okay?" Aubrey whispered as she pulled away, and you nodded in agreement once more, overcome with emotion. With a final exchange, you parted ways, heading towards the guest room to settle in.
With a soft sigh, you gently closed the door behind you, casting a fleeting glance around the dimly lit room. After slipping into a simple t-shirt and panties, you settled into the crisp, inviting bed. Weary from the day's events, your gaze drifted up to the ceiling, your belly content and your body longing for rest. Yet, despite the comfort, your heart still yearned for the warmth of the southern sun, the feeling of your skin kissed by its rays, and the presence of Hannah by your side on the steps of the church…..You let your hand drift to the cross between your breasts before allowing yourself to drift off….praying for a better day..
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧• 𓆩⚝𓆪 •⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
More notes!: hey guys!!! Sorry this is so late and a little dry😭 I really hoped you like this starter though! I’m already working on chapter two which will pick up on reader meeting the characters :)))
Taglist!: @bready101 @vqxen @a-little-bit-of-everybody @shiimer
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peakyswritings · 7 months
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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby X OC
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PART IV
Summary: after their late-night conversation, something has changed between Nina and Tommy. Now Tommy’s slowly coming to understand that they might be more similar than they thought.
Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, addressing the topics of rape and murder, English is not my first language.
A/N: This is more like a passage chapter with little to no action, but it’s fundamental for the development of Tommy and Nina’s relationship. But be ready, cause there’s a storm coming!
Important information for the context: In this chapter, Nina explains the delitto d’onore (honour killing) and the matrimonio riparatore (rehabilitating marriage), two practices which were recognised by the Criminal Code and were only abolished in Italy in 1981. In Italy, r*pe went from being a crime against the moral to being a crime against the person only in 1996.
PREVIOUS PART
SERIES MASTERLIST
CHAPTER’S MOODBOARD
Dividers credits
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Sipping lemonade at the kitchen table, with the birds chirping outside and a slight breeze coming through the open window, Nina relished the first moments of peace in weeks. With the women of the family busy with the tradition of making tons of tomato sauce to preserve for the winter at Aunt Rita’s house and the men out for business, she could finally enjoy a day all for herself. She might even go to the sea, stay there to watch the sunset.
Glancing out the window, a curious sight caught her attention. Tommy Shelby was lounging in a chair, his head leaning back, his eyes closed. He had abandoned his formal attire, he wasn’t wearing a jacket nor a tie, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing his forearms. There was something captivating in his disheveled appearance, and in the way - despite his apparently vulnerable position - he still seemed to be fully aware of his surroundings. There was a clear tension in his shoulders and his eyelids fluttered, from time to time.
After their late-night conversation, it didn’t take long for Tommy and Nina to go back to their old ways. That morning, while they sat at the breakfast table, they mostly ignored each other, and the few words they exchanged during the day were mere courtesies. It was almost as if last night never happened. Almost. Because it had happened, and something had changed between them. But it was such a small change that neither of them were actually aware of it. Maybe that change was the reason Nina took pity on him and walked out to approach him.
However, as soon as his stern blue eyes rested on her, an unfamiliar nervousness took over her, and she suddenly felt stupid, regretting her impulsive decision. It wasn’t like they were close, after all. But he was there, and he was looking at her, and it was too late to go back. She had to find something to say before that situation became even more awkward.
Before she could speak, something she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye. A black fur-ball was curled up in Tommy’s lap, hidden by the shadow of the table. Nina watched in shock as Winston purred and stretched his little paws, enjoying the man’s scratches behind his ear. How the hell did he manage to touch Winston without losing a finger?
The gangster’s eyes shifted between Nina and the cat, and his lips curved into an taunting grin. “Your cat likes me. That should be a good sign.”
“Quite the contrary.” She retorted, recovering from her astonishment. “Winston’s a devil. If he likes you, there’s clearly something wrong with you.” She teased him, feeling the previous embarrassment slowly fade away.
“But he likes you.” He squinted his eyes, pointing at her.
“Yes, because I feed him.”
Something moved in the grass, causing Winston to raise his head and stare at a specific point. It took him only a few seconds to spot a lizard, and he jumped from Tommy’s lap to catch the poor animal. Traitor, she thought to herself, watching as the cat ran away with his loot.
Once Winston had disappeared, she remembered the reason why she had walked up to him in the first place. “I’m going to the sea for a while.” She said, shifting her weight from one feet to the other. “If you need something, everybody’s over there.” She nodded her head at Agnese’s house.
Tommy stayed silent for a few seconds, pondering, almost hesitating. “Would you mind if I came with you?”
There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, which surprised Nina even more than his question. One thing that she had learned in the short time she had known him was that he never wavered. Yet, only for an instant, his firm and unmovable facade seemed to falter.
Truth was, Tommy didn’t even remember the last time he went to the beach. He was still a kid, Finn probably wasn’t even born yet. He had almost forgotten how it felt, and for the first time in a long time, he longed for a feeling that seemed to belong to another life. But Nina didn’t particularly like him, and perhaps he was overstepping by asking to go with her. Moreover, if her family found out, chances were that they would get the wrong idea.
“No.” Nina shook her head, recollecting herself. “No, I don’t mind.”
She took both Tommy and herself aback with her answer. Up until a few days earlier she would’ve said a sharp “no” without thinking about it twice, but now, as much as she hated to admit it, his company wasn’t so unpleasant anymore. Quite the contrary. And their bickering surely was a way of escaping the boredom of the small village.
So they found themselves walking down the dirt road outside the big gates of the houses, in the opposite direction from where Tommy had arrived a little over a week ago. It stretched in front of them as far as the eye could see, and its left side was surrounded by nothing but trees, whereas the right side overlooked the sea below. In the silence, he could already hear the sound of the waves and breathe the salty air, and the comfort it brought him almost made up for the burning sensation of the sun on his face. He wasn’t prepared for the warmth of the Italian summer, so radically different from Birmingham’s gloomy weather.
Eventually, they approached some narrow stone stairs, which led down to a small beach.
“Careful.” Nina told him, starting to walk down the high steps with surprising ease. “It’s slippery.”
Tommy followed behind her, paying close attention both to where he placed his feet and where she placed hers. She was going a bit too fast for his liking, and although her movements were agile and graceful, he had the impression she might slip at any moment.
Little did he know, she had walked down those steps hundreds of times. It was a spot she had discovered a few years prior, hidden from prying eyes and unknown to most people. It wasn’t even a proper beach, rather a small sandy space surrounded by rocks. It was her refuge, the place that sheltered her when she needed to be alone. Sometimes she would sit on a rock and watch the hypnotising motion of the waves rolling in, other times she took off her shoes and stood at the sea’s edge, lulled by the feeling of the cold water around her feet. She could pretend that nothing existed except for her and the sea, that she was free of the suffocating weight of judgement and injustice. And she could breathe.
“Nice place.” Tommy’s hoarse voice came to her ears as she went to sit on a rock. She watched as he looked around, an unreadable expression on his face. Another thing she had learned about Tommy Shelby was that it was impossible to tell what was going on inside his head. He was so good at hiding his feelings that Nina figured it must be an ability he had mastered over the years. There was nothing left of the glimpse of humanity he had revealed the previous night, and she wondered whether her mind had just made it up.
With his back to her, he stood in front of the sea, observing the slow motion of the waves. “How’s your cousin? I haven’t seen her today.”
Unlike the previous days, that day no big lunch was organised in the shared garden, and Tommy had eaten with Nina, her parents and her two brothers in their dining room. Since he had officially started the courting the day before, the family’s agitation had quieted down, and big gatherings were not necessary anymore, unless something important happened, like a proposal. But it was too soon for that. So that day everything went back to normal, just like Nina had predicted the day he had arrived.
“She’s busy. She and my cousins are helping my mum and aunt Rita.” She informed him. “Summer means conserve. They’re making tomato sauce and preserving it. It’s a tradition.”
“You didn’t join them?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not this year.”
Tommy took her short answer as a sign not to inquire further. He wasn’t blind, he had noticed she was a bit of an outcast in her own family. He had seen how her aunts and cousins looked at her, how they whispered among themselves when she said or did something they considered unacceptable, how her own mother lowered her head in embarrassment on those occasions. It hadn’t taken him long to understand how things worked in Sicily: women had to be meek, agreeable and marriage-minded. It was no wonder Nina’s temperament clashed with that state of things.
“Anyway, Agnese’s happy.” She continued. “Just like everyone.” Although she was trying to keep her tone neutral, she couldn’t hide a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“But you’re not.” He stated matter-of-factly, turning to face her.
“I’m happy that she’s happy. What I’m not happy about…” she left her sentence hanging, thinking about her next words. “Is this whole sale thing. Because you can call it whatever you want, it doesn’t change what it really is.”
There it was, the rage she tried so hard to contain. It never completely reveal itself, it only shone through cracks and fractures, like in that moment. But Tommy had seen it since the very beginning, for anger recognises anger, and he was angry too. He had been angry since he was a boy.
He sat next to her, keeping his eyes on the calm sea in front of them. “You’re right.” He nodded, knowing there was no point in denying what was in front of everyone’s eyes. “But it’s necessary. I’m selling myself too, you know. Before all of this I didn’t think I’d ever get married.”
Nina glanced at him, furrowing her brows. “You never thought about marriage?”
“I did.” He admitted, his mind wandering to moments that seemed so distant yet so close at the same time. “There was a woman I wanted to marry. Grace.” He explained, having to force himself to say her name. After a whole year, that name still stung on his tongue.
“What happened with her?” She asked curiously.
“Turns out she was a spy, working for an Irish cop who was investigating on some stolen guns.” Reality crashed back on him as he said those words, the memory of how he had been played by the woman he loved hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “He thought we had them.”
“Did you?”
A smirk made its way on Tommy’s face at her innocent question. He turned to look at her with raised eyebrows, slightly leaning towards her. “How do you think a backstreet razor gang managed to take control of the city without the police intervening?”
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it right away, shaking her head with an impressed look on her face. For once, she was at a loss for words.
“Anyway,” he straightened his back, becoming serious again. “She ratted us all out, and then she left.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past.”
It’s in the past. Tommy had lost count of all the times he had said that to himself. Maybe if he repeated it long enough, it would eventually become true. And maybe it was happening, because that was the first time he thought about her in days. Yet, it still hurt. He thought they were the same, that he found her, and she found him. He was wrong.
After a while, Nina broke the silence that had fallen between them. “At least you’re not some old man.”
Her sudden statement caused a chuckle to escape his lips, and even though she had tried to keep a straight face, she soon followed him. Tommy realised that he had never actually heard her laugh before. A few times she had chuckled, but until then she had never let out a real laugh. It was infectious, and he found himself laughing for the first time in God knew how long.
Soon the laughter died down, and Tommy was left with question that had been burning in his mind for a while. “Why don’t you want to get married?”
There was no judgment in his voice, just plain curiosity. He didn’t find it strange, but he couldn’t help but wonder what made her so adamant about the matter.
She took her time to answer, as if she was ordering the words in her mind, and he couldn’t tell whether she was translating her thoughts or finding the way to address a subject that was clearly a sore point. She was so fluent in English that sometimes he forgot it wasn’t her first language. Then her accent came through, or she mispronounced a word, and he was reminded that it probably hadn’t been easy for her to master a language without living in the place it was spoken. It was quite impressive.
“Because if I got married,” she started, bringing his attention back to the topic. “I’d be completely subordinated to my husband. I couldn’t make financial or even employment decisions. If we had children, they wouldn’t really be mine, I’d have no right over them. In the eyes of the law, my husband would have absolute power over us.”
Tommy attentively listened, not daring to interrupt her, afraid that she would close herself off again.
“Best case scenario, I’d end up being a wife and a mother, nothing more, nothing less. Worst case scenario, I’d end up like one of my mother’s friends, who was killed by her husband because he thought she had cheated on him. And he got a sentence reduction. Because it was a honour killing.” She spat out, her voice full of scorn. She frowned, as she did every time she didn’t agree on something.
“Honour killing?” Tommy raised his eyebrows. He had heard about it, of course, but there was something grotesque in the fact that it was somehow recognised by the law.
“If a woman brings dishonour in any way to the family, and one of her family members were to kill her, they would get a sentence reduction. It’s called delitto d’onore. Honour killing.” She explained, and he could tell she was trying not to let emotions take the best of her. Her gaze rested on him, and he figured his expression let his thoughts slip through, because she nodded. “You think that’s fucked up? Wait until you hear about the rehabilitating marriage.”
“What about it?”
“If a man rapes a woman, he can escape his sentence by marrying her. It’s in the Criminal Code, just like the honour killing. And the woman must marry the man to save both her honour and her family. Otherwise she’ll be identified as a shameless woman.” Her dark eyes blazed with outrage as she stared at some point in front of her, and Tommy found himself sharing the same disdain. Maybe it was the part of him who had never tolerated injustice, a side of him he had pushed back a long time ago, but that stubbornly came to the surface whenever something unfair occurred, or maybe her rage was so strong that it was able to infect those who were close to her.
“It’s not that uncommon that a man kidnaps a woman so that she will be forced to marry him.” She shook her head, her voice lowering. “It’s not right. Sometimes I sit here and it’s all I can think about. It’s not right. And no one seems to be angry about it. Most people even agree with it. It’s just how things are. It’s normal. It shouldn’t be.”
Tommy knew that feeling, the frustration that came with helplessness. It plagued him when he was a boy, when he was treated differently because of who he was, of where he came from. When his mother couldn’t afford to put on the table anything but lard. When aunt Polly’s children were taken from her. It was that feeling that pushed him to make sure people feared the Shelby name, so that no one would dare treat them like scum ever again.
“I’m not saying that I wouldn’t like to have a family of my own. But it’s not worth the risk of becoming no one. I don’t want to obliterate myself. I don’t want to depend on a man who might be cruel to me. I want something that’s mine. Because right now, I have nothing. And I know that I finished school, and that’s way more than what most boys get, let alone girls. But it’s not enough.” Her voice cracked, but there was no trace of tears on her face. “Is it so bad to want something more?”
No, Tommy wanted to say. No, it’s not. But couldn’t bring himself to speak, because he knew that there were no words that could make it better.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, pulling herself together. “I got carried away and I talked too much.”
“No.” He said quickly. “You didn’t. I asked you a question and you answered it.”
For some reason, Tommy didn’t want Nina to think that her talking bothered him, that she had to hold her tongue with him. He liked hearing her talk. She was smart, she had thoughts of her own, and she challenged him. She didn’t agree with everything he said - or pretended to - just to please him, she didn’t make herself smaller like everyone else did in his presence. That was somehow refreshing.
There was silence again, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. They were both meditating on the words they had said and heard, and the gap between them didn’t seem so wide, now. As the sun started to set, the sky took on shades of pink and orange, and a warm light illuminated the beach.
Tommy took advantage of Nina’s distraction to look at her. The last rays of sun lit up her eyes with a golden hue, giving them a colour which resembled honey. Her tan skin seemed to gleam, and her cheeks had taken on a tinge of red. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time, and he realised - she was beautiful. He had already noticed her interesting, sharp beauty, but now it felt as if it had intensified. A light gust of wind rose up, and her long raven hair tickled his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. When the scent of lavender filled his nostrils, he couldn’t restrain himself from closing his eyes and breathing deeply.
Nina shifted her position, causing their hands to accidentally brush.
He didn’t flinch away this time. She didn’t either.
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NEXT PART
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