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boolger · 9 months ago

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A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work.

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had.

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road.

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate.

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive.

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion.

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left.

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look.

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

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It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another.

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything.

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction.

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

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The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John.

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite��knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

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They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

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foreverromanticising · 2 months ago

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renegade | ln4

(1) a sultry summer night pulls lando towards you, leaving your plans turned on your head but at least he ended up with you in his bed (smut, fluff, the lot!)

lando norris x fem!reader | wc - 3.3k | many parts to follow to perfectly prepare us for a lando summer aka the best sort of summer

masterlist<3

As much as Lando loved racing, there was no denying his true love that was summer break. He was given weeks on end with no responsibilties other than trying to figure out how he could develop his sun tan any further than it already was. Weeks on end filled with nothing but the sun, the sea, and of course, sex. Summer was sticky and sultry for Lando.

And who could blame him, summer break was the perfect time for this. He needed an outlet to relax after months of racing, this was the perfect escape, and what better way to do it than when he was tanned? So, every year, Lando and his friends would traipse out to some beach town with a night life he wouldn’t dream of leaving - whether it be a Greek island or the likes of Ibiza, which he could never grow tired of - and they’d drink away their summers.

Their days were spent on yachts out at sea or lounging by pools, their evenings were spent with extravagant dinners in lavish restauarants, and their nights were all spent rather differently. Sure, they would all head to the same nightclub, drinks swirling with every hour that passed but everyone would end the night in a different way. Lando’s best friend, Max, was always sure to have a few drinks before starting the campaign to head home - his girlfriend was back in London so he had no reason to be staying out later than two in the morning, he had no desire to try and pick up any girls on a night out. Entirely unlike his best friend as Lando’s aim was usually trying to see who he could get in his bed that night.

“On the lookout are you?” Max grabbed Lando’s shoulder to make him aware of his appearance, another drink in both of his hands for the two of them - not that they needed it.

“Don’t say it like that,” Lando scoffed but still accepted the drink nonetheless. “Don’t say it like I’ve got an agenda.”

“Well, you do, don’t you?” Max knew Lando could lie to their other friends, but he couldn’t lie to his face like that, like they didn’t know each other like the back of their hands. “Chat up a pretty girl for the night, take her back to your bed, hope she slips out by the morning - and do it all over again tomorrow with someone new.”

“I’m not that bad,” Truly, he had never paid that much attention to his habits. Lando just assumed the time to have fun and sleep around was now, there was no point in not partaking if he wasn’t anywhere near settling down. “Am I?”

“I mean, you still treat girls with respect so you’re not the bottom of the barrel,” A teasing lilt took over Max’s voice; he knew that when Lando was with a girl he was nothing but a gentleman, the issues would arise as soon as he was done with said girl. “Just keep it down once your back, I’d actually like a decent sleep this year.”

“Mate, it’s the first night-”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly looking to be the most successful right now, are-” Max’s words were cut off as a body knocked into his own, subsequently then falling into Lando. Maybe standing in the direct path of traffic from the bar to the dancefloor wasn’t their smartest idea.

“Oh, my God, I am so so sorry!”

“Don’t be, totally my fault.” In that moment, Lando was eternally grateful for his racecar driver reflexes, his hands shooting out to catch your stumbling body as your drink sloshed out of your cup and down his linen shirt - instead of a fresh white, it was now sporting a purple blotch.

“That wasn’t your fault at all, no! I need to watch where I’m walking, I’m so sorry,” The words spilled out of your mouth quicker than Lando could pick up on them. “And your shirt! I’m so sorry, I’m gonna need a cap for these cups.”

“It’s okay, stop apologising,” Lando dropped his hands from your waist, tugging on the end of his shirt to inspect the damage, though he would argue to you there was hardly a stain. It wasn’t as though a white linen was hard to come by. “We probably shouldn’t be standing here anyway - I’m Lando, by the way, and this is Max.” He extended out his hand to you, shaking it to try and calm your thoughts, and your hand that shook with anxiety. You gave him your name in return, dropping his hand and trying to take a deep breath as you started to come down from the brief moments of adrenilane - you still felt horrendous about falling into him but he was quick to assure you that he was all right.

“I should probably go, it was-” You didn’t want to linger, wanting out of this awfully embarassing moment as soon as possible. However, just as you try to excuse yourself, Lando interrupts you.

“Can I buy you a drink? As an apology, of course.” He points towards the bar over his shoulder, as Max watches the entire situation unfold and knows exactly where it’ll end - in Lando’s bed. Thus, he excuses himself, muttering a quick goodbye to Lando as he slips past both of you.

“You have nothing to apologise for, I should be buying you a drink.”

“I can’t have pretty girls buying me drinks, doesn’t work like that.” His hand slips back around your waist as he leads you towards the bar.

The conversation flows as easily as the drinks do and you soon learn that there’s more to Lando than his name and his easily forgiving nature; he’s from England, though he’s curretnly staying in Monaco, he’s in Greece with his closest friends as he claims summer doesn’t begin until they head to the Greek islands, and his favourite colour is orange, although he does specifiy the shade you’ve had one too many drinks to remember what he had said.

Your legs were intertwined beneath the bar, knees pushed together, as you both tried to sit as close to each other - Lando claimed he could hardly hear you, but you would argue he just wanted to keep you close, as you did with him.

Soon enough, you begin to gather that the bartender was simply sick of the sight of both yourself and Lando, the constant glares and passive sighing don’t ease you of this ebbing feeling. Thankfully, Lando wastes no time in taking your hand in his, fingers laced between your own, and leads both of you out of the bar.

“Beginning to think you’re leading me to my death.” You try to play your worries off as a joke, a fake laugh masking your words, but there was no hiding the sudden change in the speed of your breathing as Lando walks both of you down towards the seafront. It probably wasn’t your brightest idea to blindly follow a man you had just met but his hair curled perfectly above his eyes and all you could think about was running your fingertips through the mop atop of his head so you had to admit you were feeling a little distracted.

“‘Could never murder you, babe,” He flashed you that god awful smile that had your knees almost buckling beneath your weight, reminding you exactly why you so stupidly grabbed his hand and followed the path he led. “Just wanted to hear you, ’s too loud in there.”

His speech was slurred ever so slightly, one too many drinks and a pretty girl in front of him - how could he possibly be expected to maintain his composure around you?

“So, Greece? What are you doing here?” He had perked up in the few hours you had known him, not that he wasn’t in a great mood prior to when you had bumped into him however alcohol significantly loosened the weight that was bearing upon Lando’s shoulders. He felt like he could float away, simply at peace as he swung your hands back and forth between your bodies - like walking along a beach at three in the morning with you was an entirely normal thing to do for him, like he had been doing this his whole life.

“I don’t really know,” You let out a laugh and shrugged your shoulders, as though the question was totally absurd. “I wanted to travel, I guess, so here I am.”

“Massively boring answer, c’mon, I wanna know you.” Perhaps Lando was more forward than he would’ve been with five less drinks in him, on a normal day and at a normal time, but that wouldn’t have been true to Lando.

“I mean it, I really don’t know - I’m just here.” You weren’t sure how much of an answer Lando was expecting but you were certain you couldn’t give him what he was searching for.

“Mmm’kay well, who’re you here with?”

“No one, just me.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” It was almost comical the way Lando’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, jaw dropping - he felt as though you were simply giving him these blunt answers in a pure attempt to wind him up, but his drunken mind trusted you enough to believe you. “You’re in Greece, on your own, and you don’t know why? Makes sense.”

“I wanted to travel and experience the world, and the people and the cultures it could offer me,” You didn’t have a particularly expansive answer for Lando but you figured you could tell him the truth - despite all of the friends you had promised back home that you wouldn’t tell anyone that you were solo travelling. “No one wanted to come with me and I didn’t want to waste anymore time sitting around so I packed a bag and here I am, following a strange man on the beach.”

“Strange man? This strange man bought you drinks all night.” Lando scoffed, a look of faux offence mascarading his face.

“Most strange men buy girls they want to sleep with drinks on a night out, Lando.” Though you could maybe guess what Lando’s intentions were for that night, you wouldn’t have fit him into the ‘strange men’ category your friends were so worried about. You felt incredibly comfortable around him as you continued following him.

“Who said I wanted to sleep with you?” He stumbled over his words as they fell out of his mouth, thankful for the dark sky and the lack of street lamps as he could feel the heat rise to his cheeks.

“I’m a good guesser?” You shrugged your shoulders, a teasing smirk pulling at your lips as you watched how flustered he became.

“Don’t change the subject,” Lando shook his head, trying to regroup his train of thought back to his original questions. “Travelling, you said? Where are you going? I don’t think you can count party islands as real travelling.”

“Well, this is one of my last stops,” You rattled off the lists of cities and islands you had trekked to over the last few weeks as Lando watched you with pure curiosity. “Then, in the morning, I’m meant to head to Albania but I don’t have anything booked yet.”

“That’s not very bright, why would you not book something so you know what you’re doing?” Lando couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t extremely organised in most aspects of his life, the thought of not knowing your next step stressed him out and he was only on day one of his own trip.

“I dunno, wanted to see where tonight would take me.” Before leaving the hostel you were staying in, you had packed all of your belongings into your backpack just in case you decided you were ready to leave the next morning. You liked to have the choice of where your travelling would take you, making sporadic last minute decisions was exactly why none of your friends had wanted to travel with you.

“And where did tonight take you?”

“Back to your place, I’m hoping.”

Those few words were enough to have Lando pulling your arm, immediately picking up the pace he was walking at until both of you were almost running back to his villa. You weren’t usually this bold when it came to boys but you knew you had no chances of seeing Lando after this so you let any worries roll straight off your back.

Any space between you and Lando had absolutely vanished back at the bar yet he kept trying to pull you impossibly closer once you made it back to his villa. He led you back to his bedroom, shushing you between kisses in fears of waking up any of his friends whilst you exclaimed over the grandure of his villa. “You gotta stay quiet, baby.” His lips travelled down your neck as he pushed you inside his bedroom, murmuring against your skin.

His hands dipped lower down your body, rough and calloused fingertips dragging the hem of your dress to your hips. Though, before he lets himself go any further with you whilst standing in his doorway, he soon redirects your bodies to his bed - not daring to break from your lips as he laid you down atop of his mattress. Soon, he hikes up your dress properly and lays the skirt across your stomach, leaving your white lace on show for him.

“Pretty girl.” He hummed against your hip bone, placing a gentle kiss on this lace that sits on your skin. Daringly, he darts his tongue just below your belly, teasing eyes looking back up at you. “Can I get rid of these, y’gonna be alright with that?” His breath is strikingly hot against your skin as he watches you nod your head above him.

The arch of your back combined with your nodding is enough for Lando before he begins pulling your panties down your legs, discarding them to the floor of the room. “Y’gonna let me make you feel good, darling?” This elicited a whine from your lips and you weren’t above begging Lando to touch you, to do anything. Again, this was enough for Lando as he ducked his head down and began pressing kisses from your inner thighs all the way to your clit - slow and steady kisses, as though he was scared you were going to disappear if this was over too fast.

His lips continued their assault on you, Lando acting like he was a man starved as his hands gripped onto your thighs. He wouldn’t dare break away from you for a second, not even for a breath of air. He closed his mouth around you, the pressure was almost too much for you to handle as a high whine left your jaw ajar and you wanted so desperately to close your eyes, to bask in the feeling, but you couldn’t dare take your eyes off of Lando. His sun kissed skin, the tip of his ever so slightly burnt nose kept nudging your clit and left you nearly squealing.

Though, before he could let you finish your hands were frantically grabbing at the collar of his linen shirt, pulling him up over your body as his arms caged you in below him. He was breathing just as heavily as you were but you didn’t waste a second in allowing him to grab a breath before you captured his lips with your own. Your fingertips tugged on the ends of his curls, involuntarily causing him to bite down on your bottom lip.

“Didn’t think you’d be into that.” You laughed against his lips whilst your hands made their way down his body, trying to unbutton whatever buttons were still done on his shirt so you could pull it over his head.

“I’m into whatever you’re into.” Lando truly wasn’t kidding; he knew he had only met you a few hours ago but he was certain he would lay down the world for you. Or maybe he was just drunk, but he loved the feeling of being in love without any strings attached. It was a bad habit of his.

Lando hadn’t even taken your dress off properly before you were begging for more than just his mouth; his trousers shucked off and thrown into the corner of his room with your panties. Whilst your dress wasn’t totally gone, it didn’t stop Lando from slipping his hands beneath the fabric to feel every inch of your skin with every thrust.

Something broke with every push Lando gave you; everything about this touch was just right, calculated like he had done this a million times before, but you couldn’t complain as you lay entirely blissed out below him. He fell apart moments after you, holding you close as he finally lay down on the white sheets beneath both you. His lips trailed from your temple to your collarbone, not one part of him caring that you were sweaty and sticky from the night you had both just had from the bar to his bedroom - he was sure he was in a much worse state.

You didn’t bask in his affection for long before you were sitting up, fixing your mussed hair and pulling your dress back down to an appropriate length. Your sudden movements left Lando confused, a perplexed look taking over his face as he watched you.

“Are you not staying?” Usually, he was quick to haul girls out of his bedroom so he could return back to his normalcy but he assumed you would stay. You two had actually clicked beyond the sex, Lando didn’t want to give this up straight away.

“Albania, Lan, I leave in a few hours.” Your time with Lando had gone from the late night into the early hours of the morning, and whilst you had had great fun, you were determined to make your travels for the next day.

“What? C’mon babe, just stay,” Lando leaned towards the end of his bed, hand outstretched as he grabbed yours, pulling you back to his bed. He was quick to noticed that you didn’t put up much of a fight against his movements. “You said it yourself, nothing’s booked.”

“I dunno, this was fun and all but-”

“But, we could do it all over again tomorrow,” He hovered his lips over your own, forehead pressed against yours with his voice low and tempting. “You don’t have to go, you should stay.”

“Do you always get your way with girls?” You rolled your eyes as you were certain this man had never been told ‘no’ once before in his life but you could understand why - you weren’t sure you wanted to be the first person to tell him ‘no’ when he looked at you with those shining eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked a girl to stay before,” He confessed to you, lips finally connecting with yours. “Albania will always be there, even just stay for the night - we can sort everything out tomorrow. But, please, just come to bed with me.”

“I’ll have to be up early to grab my stuff from the hostel, I can’t leave it there all-” You couldn’t help the bubble of worries that were slowly taking over you at the change of your plans, but you couldn’t deny the subtle excitment you felt with how desperately Lando was clinging to you, begging you to stay.

“Shh, I’ll set an alarm and we’ll be up,” He pulled you to lay down with him, his hands grabbing your thigh to tug your leg in between his. He felt a sense of contentment when your head rested on his shoulder, the white sheets pulled up to your shoulder. “Jus’ wanna hold you tonight.”

#formula one #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 #lando norris blurb #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris summer #f1 fanfic #f1 blurb #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris angst

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theartofsimpatry · 2 months ago

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Yandere Thragg Headcanons!! 🔞

I wrote this without reading the comics so if this is OOC for Thragg… oh well ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

-You probably got his attention by either 1. Being extremely strong or 2. Being extremely fertile. Im going with option 1!

-Your strength intrigued him, he knew if you two fucked, you’d give him strong children, maybe even stronger than a pure-bred Viltrumite.

-You decided to not make the Viltrumite empire your enemy and you couldn’t help but find Thragg attractive~

-He was a lil surprised (and turned on) by how willing you were to be his breeding mate.

-You’re taken to Thraxa after he took it over and are introduced to all of his other breeding mates…

-The Thraxan doctors have your ovaries under a microscope 24/7 due to Thragg’s thirst to have you impregnated.

-Turns out you’re not as compatible with Viltrumite DNA as Thraxans are, so you convince him that he needs to put all of his DNA and time into you. As your potential offspring would be much stronger and live longer than the Thraxan-Viltrumite halfbreeds he’s been making.

-Next thing you know, you’re the only female he sleeps with now. It will take many many many times to get you pregnant after all.

-His libido is out of this world, he’s ready to go 25/8 and he would be going all day every day if it wasn’t your own tiredness.

-Originally he found this annoying, how you’d stop the fucking, have one of the servants bring food and drinks then would sleep for hours instead of being his impregnable fleshlight.

-He’d learn to wait for you to wake up, he’d lay in bed next to you watching you sleep and grew… to like it….

-He began seeing your needs as important too, not just his and the empire’s.

-He gets frustrated with himself when he realizes he’s beginning to feel the same “weakness” and affinity for the “lower lives of the universe” that his underlings had.

-He WANTS to kill you, to destroy this weakness, he needs to be strong for the empire… you’re supposed to only be his breeding mate after all.

-While he’s thinking about killing you, you’re almost killed by another alien and he finds myself protecting you. No one else is allowed to kill you, only he is! (He’s not gonna do it)

-He finds himself staring at you after you two fucked, you’re sleeping peacefully and he raises a hand to try to quickly kill you. You roll over, feeling his arm missing from your grasp and cuddle into his chest… he can’t do it, he lowers his arm and wraps it around you.

-When you do finally get pregnant, his protection and yandere-ness gets stronger.

-You won’t be able to leave the palace without him by your side, servants are with you 24/7 for whatever you may need.

-You guide his head to your baby bump and with his sonic hearing, he can hear the baby move and kick around inside of you.

-Yeah… he loves you…. He even loves that lil baby in you despite never meeting them.

-he hates how stupid and uncontrollable he feels when he realizes he truly loves you.

-His thoughts are consumed by you and your child now

-Even the empire now comes second to you ❤️

#taos writing #invincible #invincible show #invincible thragg #thragg #grand regent thragg #thragg x reader #thragg x y/n #thragg x you #invincible x reader #invincible headcanons #thragg headcanons #thragg imagine #invincible imagine

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valentina-writes · 3 months ago

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The Distance He Keeps - Part 3

Azriel x reader

summary: Rhys sends you on a mission to an illyrian camp with Azriel. Will this finally make him aknowledge your changed relationship?

warnings: allusions to sex, mentions of blood

words: 3.4k | part 1 | part 2 | masterlist

A/N: My darlings, my brain cooked up something delicious for you :D

For now, this is it! I really considered writing a fourth part and am still debating it. Would it be smutty? ... Probably ;) I'm unsure whether or not I'm comfortable writing smut, so I can't say for sure if I'll do it. For now, I hope you enjoy part 3, and that you'll return for whatever I'll write next. xx

"Y/N: mission for you. Control wing clipping ban. Meet at 9, House of Wind. R"

The note lay on my dresser when I got ready for work this morning. I had tossed and turned in my bed all night long. There had been no rest at all. Not when I knew that Azriel was my mate. Not when close before dawn the door to the bedroom next to mine creeked open and Az was sleeping only a few feet away from me. So, at the crack of dawn, I got up and baked.

Now, a cake sat on the windowsill of my room, waiting. An awfully delicious smelling cake I had spent hours baking. It had been almost impossible to decipher the faded handwriting of the recipe, and even harder still to not choke on the tears that escaped my eyes while baking. I had thought of the young boy Azriel had once been, kept in the dark cell in his father's house, only seldom let out to visit his mom. Where she would have this very cake waiting for him.

The only time I had met her, she had shoved the recipe into my hands, telling me I'd need it. I had never made it until this day. Now, I wouldn’t be able to give it to him. I hoped the House would keep it fresh for me, waiting for my return.

Rhys waited for me in the dining room. He was smiling softly when he saw me. "Are you okay?", he asked. I nodded slowly. "I'm sorry for entering your mind without your consent. I hope you forgive me". He was not usually a man of many excuses. He did what he did and expected everyone to be okay with it. This was a rare occurrence. "I do. It... wasn't entirely that bad after all. But it won't happen again". My voice was stern, unwavering.

"How did you feel last night?"

He didn’t need to elaborate. "I... don't know. I couldn't sleep. And I just don't understand why it didn't-"

But I could feel Azriel before I saw him, coming into the room in that very moment.

He stopped in his tracks when he noticed me. "We're doing this together, I figure", he said to nobody in particular and came closer. This could become interesting, I thought. My heart hammered against my ribs at the thought of spending the whole day with him.

"Oh, looks like I forgot to mention it. I must be getting old", Rhys purred as he grabbed both of us and winnowed us away.

I blinked into the blinding white sun of the illyrian mountains. It was a cold day for this time of the year. For illyrian soldier's standards it was already late morning. Many of the winged fae were bustling through the little huts and tents and in the distance, I could hear the grunts and clinks of swordfights.

I looked over at Azriel. His posture was tense, face expressionless. I didn't have to be a daemati to know that he hated these camps with a burning passion.

Softly, I tugged at his arm. "The sooner we start, the sooner it's over".

What followed was a long day of wing inspections. It was a surprise visit, so they weren't prepared. But that was exactly what Rhys had wanted. One by one they paraded the females past us, so we could protocol the state of their wings in detail. Most were intact, but there were exceptions. One young girl's wings were freshly clipped, blood still seeping through the bandages. The air was rich with the smell of it. Her face was ash-colored, grief stricken and I almost vomited at the camp commander's feet when I saw her state.

"What happened to her?", Azriel demanded, voice unforgiving. The commander scrambled for words, unable to give a coherent explanation beyond "She didn't do as she was told". Azriel looked like he was about to kill him. "There will be repercussions". I turned light-headed from the thought of her clipping. Without a word, I took a few steps to breathe in some fresh mountain air.

A strong hand met my shoulder and turned me around. "You can leave, if you want. Go for a walk, breathe. You don't have to watch this". Azriel’s face showed deep concern. But there was a long line of females waiting behind him and I wouldn't let him do this alone.

"I want to stay. I want to be there for them", I said. He nodded, understanding. “If you want to stop at any time, tell me. There’s no shame in feeling like this”. Azriel squeezed my hand, and we returned to work.

It took all day. The sun was setting as we inspected the last female. By the end, we were both exhausted. Azriel's wings almost dragged on the ground. The inspection of their training would have to wait for tomorrow. After a fast meal, we were ushered to a small, run-down hut at the outskirts of the camp.

I walked through the door and immediately stopped in my tracks. There was only one bed. A narrow one while we were at it. With the way it was positioned against the sloped roof, it would be a tight fit for Azriel and his wings. A quiet smile stole its way onto my lips. Rhysand, matchmaker and wingman of the century. His way of offering reparations for his meddling with my thoughts, I supposed.

Without looking back at Az, I started undoing the buckles of my tight leathers. When I had rid myself of my pants, only leaving my panties, a hand shot out from behind me and grabbed mine to keep me from undressing further. "I'll sleep on the floor" And get a wing full of splinters? I snorted, "No you won't. You act as if that's the first time we're sharing a bed. Don't be so prude"

His eyebrows lifted. "Prude, really?"

"Well, if you can't handle me in the same bed as you, I suppose I will sleep on the floor"

"Take the bed", he insisted, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Make me", was my only response. Azriel's jaw dropped and his expression, always so controlled, turned into something else entirely. Something primal, almost hungry. "Fine", he snapped. I continued to pull off my leathers, only leaving my underwear and the shirt I wore underneath the leathers. When I turned around again, he already lay down on the bed, his wings awkwardly crouched at his back. "Happy now?".

A witty comment about him luring me into bed lay on my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. “Yes”.

His face stayed indifferent when I blew out the candles and settled into bed next to him. "I know this isn't the right time or the right place, but we need to talk, Az"

He sighed. "Yes, I suppose we do"

"Will you ignore me again when we get back home?", I asked. He had been almost normal to me today. And I knew it would kill me if he'd start ignoring me again as soon as we came home.

"I don't know if I can". Azriel's honesty surprised me. Maybe the darkness made it easier on him, because he didn't have to look me in the eye. Still, his voice broke as he said: "I miss you".

My heart tightened inside my chest "Then come back to me".

"I wish I could". He turned towards the wall and ended our conversation.

Sunlight hit my face, waking me from my dreams. It was so warm and comfortable, I wanted to stay like this forever. This was the first time in weeks that I had slept through the night. Azriel's head lay on my chest, his strong arm snaked tightly around my waist and Gods, his left wing was lazily draped over my body. He was all around me, his scent engulfing me. This man would be the death of me. I also held him tightly, one hand buried in his hair, the other grasping at his shirt as if trying to keep him from escaping. A quiet smile stole its way onto my face. He must have cuddled up to me while asleep. I could get used to this.

His shadows were also asleep, I realized then, curled around my arms and shoulders in a protective embrace. My heart swelled in my chest. My mate, I thought. How lucky I was.

Without my doing, my fingers started playing with his hair. Almost immediately, he snuggled his face deeper into the fabric of my shirt. A deep blush crept over my face and my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest.

We stayed like this for a while. His shadows were the first indication of his waking up. They slowly started to stir, wandering from my arms to my head and down my body as if to check if I was alright.

Then, his whole body turned rigid. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-", he started, his face a deep crimson.

His hazel eyes met mine and my breath hitched in my chest. My body was aflame, an explosion of light and emotions. It was like how I imagined the creation of this world. First, there was nothing. Until there was everything. The "bond" I had been able to feel when I was inside Azriel's mind was nothing compared to this. A thick rope of light glowed inside me, and I felt him. Love flowed through the bond, an undying stream of it and I basked in its glow. But there was something darker still inside of him, a deep sadness, so similar to my own. My mate.

Without knowing what I was doing, I reached out across the bridge that bound us together. And tugged hard on the bond, willed him closer.

A deep groan sounded from Az, as he dropped face first back into my chest. I thought I could hear him murmur: "finally".

I held him close, basking in the glorious light of the bond. I never wanted to leave his side again.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long", I apologized. I didn't even want to begin to think about how torturous the last weeks must have been for him. How painful it must be to go against every instinct and not be around your mate.

His head shot up. "You knew?"

"I woke up last night and was sucked into your mind. I... I heard your talk with Rhys. Part of it, anyway". He pressed a kiss to my cheek, then to my nose. Azriel's face hovered above mine, our lips only a breath apart.

He whispered against my lips: "I'm sorry you learned it that way. I wanted to tell you. Every day, I thought about it. But I just couldn't".

My eyes fluttered close. "I understand you now. And I am not mad at you. Not at all"

His lips were on mine and I couldn't say who of us closed the distance. The soft touch of his lips soon turned demanding, claiming, as he parted my lips with his tongue. The kiss was rougher than the one we had once shared. It was hungry, all tongue and eager lips. I couldn't get enough of him. The bond sang in my chest. He kissed me like he had been starving for months. My hands buried deep into his hair, I moaned into him.

Azriel was touching me everywhere, his shadows swirling around me as well. But he was just too clothed.

Impatiently, I tugged at his shirt, eager to feel him. My hands roamed the strong muscular plains of his back. The bond was alight and I couldn't even begin to imagine how good it would feel to have him inside me.

"Not like this". Azriel pulled away and I actually whined in protest. He was breathless, eyes wild and his lips in a smile bigger than I had ever seen on him. "Not here. I want it to be special. Not in a rundown hut with a whole illyrian camp listening". The bond between us showed me pure love. I couldn't be offended.

"Scared the bed wouldn't survive?", I joked, equally breathless. Hunger, deep and primal was painted on his face. "It definitely would not"

A shudder went through my body as I imagined what he would do to me. "I wouldn't mind". He groaned again, nuzzling his face into my neck. "I'm not fucking you here, as much as I would love to".

"Then get off me, you're not making this any easier". With his body pressed so close to mine, I imagined how he would pin me down on the bed. How his mouth would roam over my body, downwards, before he would-

"Your thoughts also aren't", he argued. My thoughts mingled with his own and I saw how he would take me. Slow, deliberate, savoring every moment. And then rough.

"I'd say I was sorry, but that would be a lie", I gasped, “and yours are hardly better”. I couldn’t wait to get home and see how he would make his thoughts justice.

He pressed a kiss to my temple, smiling, and then started to peel himself off me.

When I opened the door of the little hut to start our tasks of the day, Rhys stood outside waiting for us. My eyes widened in surprise.

"How did the mission go?", he wanted to know.

Azriel cleared his throat. "Why are you here? Weren't we supposed to stay until noon?". His hand was protectively placed at my waist. To show the illyrian’s to keep away if they wanted to keep their arms, probably.

Rhysand's gaze wandered between us, a smug twinkle in his eyes. "Change of plan, I'll take over from here. So?"

"They have mostly accepted the wing-clipping ban, except for a few", I reported.

"Good to hear", he said nonchalantly. He stepped a few feet away from the door before stopping. "Oh, and you're welcome by the way"

Azriel blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Did you really think I needed two people for this?"

He gaped at Rhys, unable to form a response. I only giggled and lowered my mental barrier for a moment. You sly bastard, I thought at Rhys. In response, a quiet chuckle sounded in my thoughts.

"Are you coming, or what?". Rhys winnowed us back to the house of wind. Before returning to the camp, he said to Azriel: "You're on vacation now, by the way"

The corners of Azriel's lips twitched into small smile. "For how long?"

Rhys grinned. "Until you've stopped fucking each other's brains out all day". A blush crept over Azriel's face. Through the bond I felt anger arising at Rhys's words, but I grabbed his hands to keep him from throwing a punch.

A deep giggle sounded from behind me. Cassian, strong, brutal, buff Cassian was giggling. "You can thank us later".

Azriel POV

She led me through the House to her room, tugging at my arm even though I knew the way as well as she did. When we arrived, she shut the door, and I sat down on her bed.

She was before me in an instant. "Why didn't you say anything?".

"I couldn't", I said. What a lousy excuse.

Sorrow tinted the bond. "It killed me, Az. I thought you hated me. That I had done something wrong and now we'd never be friends again".

"I'm sorry I made you feel like this. But after starfall, I- the bond was hurting so much. It burned inside me, day and night and called me to you. But I just couldn't be around you and pretend everything was normal". I didn't say how I wished to be dead every day, thinking the Cauldron had set me up with a one-sided bond. I didn't say that the first week I didn't come to work not because I was sick, but because the only way I could numb the bond and the bottomless pit of pain inside me was getting drunk. I didn't say that I overworked myself to the point of collapsing in the training rink with Cassian, only to not have to feel the aching of the bond while being close to her. One day I'd tell her. But I wouldn't trouble her with that today. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to forget about everything that had happened during these past months. And for her to be happy.

"You didn't even look my way". The bond twitched inside me. Did it remember the weeks apart or were those her own feelings?

There were no excuses. But maybe I could make it a little better at least. "My shadows stayed close to you. I couldn't control them anymore. Wherever you went, a part of me went as well. They slept at your door for weeks", I admitted. As if to support my claim, they drifted towards her, lightly encircling her wrists.

She stayed silent for a while, grasping for words. But she wasn’t angry, I realized. She only wanted to understand. "I was in love with you for years", she confessed, "but I saw how in love you were with Mor and then Gwyn and I never thought you would love me back. So, I never said anything. But at starfall, I... I was so sick of it”.

I furrowed my brows. "That was a century ago". She couldn’t possibly have believed that I was still pining after Gwyn, who I hadn’t seen in decades. Or Mor, who was happily mated. How was it possible that she had been so blind all these years?

She looked down in what could only be embarrassment. "I never saw you with anybody else after, so I thought you were still in love with one of them"

I pulled her in closer. "Y/N, I haven't been with anybody in decades. You never saw me with anyone, because there was no one. Only you".

Her head flew up. "You're kidding me", she accused, eyes wide.

I pulled her between my legs. "You're not the only one who was in love for years before the bond". I thought of the many days and nights we had spent together, each one of us pining for the other without knowing. I shook my head. Those days were over.

She laid her hand on my shoulders. "Promise me one thing"

"Anything"

She breathed in deeply. "Never leave me alone like this, ever again. Promise me to talk to me when something happens, when you're hurting".

I had never made an easier promise. "I promise. I will never treat you like this again. I will never leave you. And I will always find you, no matter where. I promise". Thoughts about starfall flew into my head. There was no way I would ever let go of her. Wherever she would go, I would follow her. No matter where. Even in death, I swore myself.

"And I will find you". She kissed me, sweet and soft. With every kiss of hers I forgot a little about the pain as the bond sang brighter and brighter. I wanted to pull her down onto the bed with me, finally become one with her. But all too soon, Y/N left my embrace. I stared at here, confused. Was she not satisfied with my answers? Would she refuse the bond after all?

Anxiety grew in my chest. Before I could say anything, a wave of calm hit me through the bond. She walked over to the big window overlooking the mountains and drew a knife. A cake sat on the windowsill, I only now saw. She returned with a piece of it sitting on a small plate, a fork next to it. A cake I hadn't eaten in centuries. My throat closed up when she handed me the plate.

"Eat", she said softly, "you've more than earned it". I felt like the boy I once was again. Let out of his cage that had kept him in the dark, confining his wings and his will. Finally seeing the light of day. Daring to hope. My hand shook as I grabbed the fork and cut a piece off. "You need to tell me the story of how you got this recipe".

"I'm full of surprises". She sat down next to me and grabbed my left hand.

A smile stole its way onto my face. "Yes, you are", I said and started eating.

series taglist: @tele86 @francesababyd0ll @rcarbo1 @willowpains @i-am-infinite @paintedbyshadows @mellowmusings @ashduv @paleidiot @moonlwghts @acourtofbatboydreams @azriels-human @lucia-valentinaa @starshinegrl @ashblooddragons @jennigsonl @shylahstarzz @elisabethch82 @annthepenguin

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slytherinsimp12 · 2 months ago

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𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱 , 𝓹𝓽-2 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡

Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: The day after you and James share a kiss, he invited you to watch him play quidditch. You get jealous seeing him with another girl. You meet his friend group. Things don’t end well.

Warnings: Lily is mentioned as James’ friend for the sake of reader x james,( I love jily), Cursing , Rude Sirius, Angst towards the end.

Author’s note: Hi cuties xx. I hope you enjoy pt.2. I’ll be posting pt.3 soon. Feel free to leave comments or send requests if you have any suggestions/improvements/ ideas for this pt and pt-3. Follow me to keep up the updates. <3.

Part 3 (finale) uploaded!

Part 1 and Part 3

————————————X————————————

You woke up to the sound of your dorm mates bubbling over today’s quidditch match. Your head was throbbing with pain; you barely got any sleep last night. Then it all came crashing back to you, the late night stroll that lead to your kiss with James Potter. Bloody hell. Did it really happen? Or was it just an extremely vivid dream. Dubious about the accuracy of your memory, you got up and quickly got dressed , and headed to breakfast.

The great hall was filled with the chatter of excited students; they were all raving about today’s match. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Well that explains the dung bombs last night.

Your palms were sweating with nerves, you were so not ready to see him yet.

Right on cue, you spotted James sitting with his friends, and stuffing his face with food.

“I’ve got to fuel up for the match. D’you think having this amazing body was easy?” James gloated coyly.

Your stomach filled with butterflies, how pathetic. There James was, an arrogant git, attacking his food like there was no tomorrow. Yet, you couldn’t help let out a small smile.

“Y/n!” James shouted across the hall.

Your face flushed red out of embarrassment. You tried looking away , but it was too late. James jogged over to you.

“Hey pretty.” He smirked.

“Hi.” You said plainly.

“So, today is the quidditch match. You coming to see me play?” He grinned.

“Uh… I don’t know. I’m not really a sports kinda person.” You told.

“Oh come on, just come to see the legendary James Potter in action, love.” He pleaded.

Merlin, how could someone be so obnoxious yet so charming.

“Tone it down a notch, ‘prongs’. “ You teased, making air quotes.

“I’ll see if I can come, i’ve got a lot of reading to catch up on.” You continued, walking away before he could reply.

The encounter left your stomach rumbling. Thanks to that idiot James, you couldn’t even think about keeping down any food right now.

You hated how James left you feeling. You didn’t like anticipating your face in a red flush, you didn’t like seeing double vision in a rose blush, and most of all, you didn’t like feeling vulnerable by the mere presence of someone, let alone a boy. A boy that half the school is in love with.

Going to the quidditch match was a bad idea, letting James in was a bad idea, it went against everything you told yourself from your very start of Hogwarts. Yet, you found yourself doing exactly that.

You decided you could spare a few minutes to watch the quidditch match. You gaslit yourself into believing you were going for the sake of ‘enjoying and learning the sport’, and not for James. You made your way into the Y/H stands, trying your best not to be noticed by the messy haired Gryffindor chaser. Although, you hardly doubted he would notice you from 50 feet above.

The match dragged on for 3 whole hours, and you were appalled by the fact that you stayed the whole duration. You watched a handful of matches your whole life, but this one, this one was different. It had something to do with the fact that, James was so effortlessly good at what he did.

Gryffindor won even though Slytherin’s seeker caught the snitch. They were leading by a 100 points, and James had thrown the quaffle into the hoop more than 20 times. Even you knew that the victory was mostly his doing. The Gryffindor team jumped off their brooms, and started jumping with excitement, adrenaline pumping through their veins. You wanted to congratulate James, it was the decent thing to do, right?

As you were walking up to the ground, a red headed girl beat you to him. She hugged him rather intimately, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Your stomach churned. Maybe it was the nausea from not eating or maybe it was seeing that girl being so close to James, you didn’t care. What were you doing? Coming to a quidditch match for the captain of the Gryffindor team? You didn’t expect him to notice you, then why were you so offended when he didn’t? Without thinking, you ran out the filed, wanting nothing more than to forget about the stupid match, the stupid kiss and stupid James fucking potter.

The following night in the library ,you were drowning in a pile of books, struggling to finish all your assignments.

“We need to stop running into each other like this.” A voice whispered into your ear from behind.

“Although, you seem to be more interested in running away from me than into me.” James continued. Well you’d be damned. He did in-fact notice you at the match.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you mumbled, refusing to turn around and look at him.

“C’mon, love. Don’t be coy. Why did you run away like that? Still flustered after last night are we?” He pressed.

“Piss off, Potter.” You spat, trying to walk away.

“Wait! Don’t be like that. Do you want to talk about what happened last night, is that it?” He asked, gripping your wrist, stopping you from walking away.

“No. Clearly you’d rather talk to that red headed girl you were being so ‘friendly’ with earlier. I get it, the kiss was no big deal. It’s cool” You lied.

“No big deal? Ouch.” He said, removing a fake arrow from his heart.

“That red head earlier was Lily Evans. She’s my good mate. Trust me, you do NOT need to worry about Lily, plus I’m certain she’s got a thing for Snivellus.” James explained.

“Snivellus?” You questioned. What is up with him and these stupid nicknames?

“Long story. Anyway, why don’t you join me and the lads in the Gryffindor common room tonight. We’re celebrating the win.” Was James asking you to meet his friends tonight? No way. There was only one person you found more insufferable than James, Sirius freaking Black. He was obviously going to be there.

“Um- I- I have uh… errands-“ you tried to come up with an excuse but James cut you off.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He said, as he winked and disappeared into the dark.

A few hours after dinner, you reluctantly made your way into the Gryffindor common room. Everyone seemed to be asleep. The room was dimly lit, with cosy sofas arranged next to a roaring fire. You spotted James , Sirius, Remus , Peter, Lily and Marlene sprawled in front of the fire place.

You cleared your throat, making your presence aware.

“Y/n! You came!” James greeted, pulling you into a side hug.

After introducing you to the group, James insisted you sat right next to him on the sofa. At some point during the night, his hands found their way to the small of your back, tracing gentle circles on it. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to enjoy yourself. But that didn’t last long.

Sirius insisted on playing a game of Truth or Dare, where he mostly targeted you. You managed to dodge most of the questions, which really pissed Sirius off.

“Ok. Fine. If you’re not going to answer any of the questions, Y/n, why is it that you have no friends? Why do you walk around alone and eat alone all the time like some depressed loser.” Sirius said bluntly.

Heat spread from your ears to your neck. Your face burned with embarrassment. That did it.

“Fuck off , Black.” You flipped him off , as you stormed out of the common room.

“What the hell, mate?” You heard James say.

You were walking so fast it could be considered running.

“Y/n, wait!” James called after you.

You tried to ignore him, but he caught up with you in the corridor because the stupid stair cases decided to move, again.

“Y/n…I’m so sorry. Ignore Sirius. He can be a real dick.” James said.

“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your head up to meet his eyes. They were filled with regret. He probably regretted calling you tonight. What was he thinking? Did he expect his friends to like you? In what world would that be true? You saw how they picked on people like you. How they bullied those different from them. Why did you expect anything else?

“What are you thinking?” James asked, brushing his thumb against your cheek. He was standing extremely close to you again. Practically hovering. Before you could answer, he pulls you in, locking his lips with yours. A sudden warmth spreads through your body. You close your eyes, the subtle pressure of his hands on your waist sending jolts of electricity down your spine. This was wrong. Stop. Pull away. You thought to yourself, but your body wouldn’t comply. You kissed him back with more aggression than you anticipated, running your fingers through his hair. After what felt like an eternity of pure heavenly bliss, James pulled away.

“Should we head back?” He asked.

Then you came back to your senses. Reality was a harsh slap in the face. Deal with it now, so you’re not left wretched later.

“I can’t ,James. I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought I could handle your friends, the crowds and the constant attention your around. But, truth be told, I really can’t. It’s all too much for me. You’re too much for me…you’ll probably be fine, maybe even better off without me. This was a big mistake.” You said, gesturing between the two of you.

For the first time in history, James Potter was left speechless. His face was engulfed with hurt. You didn’t want to hurt him, but it was better him than you.

Tag list 💞:

@colouredbyd , @d1lf-loverrr , @dollysh

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transboyswitchytales · 23 days ago

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Busy Woman

part 1,

Part 2

Part 3

Governor Claire DeBella (Alpha) x Student Fem Reader (Omega)

Sugar Mama Claire DeBella is having a hard time away from her bonded mate.

SMUT WARNING (MDNI) 18+

My Masterlist

Alpha/Omega/ Mommy kink/ Power kink/ Sugar Mama/ SMUT / Possesive kink / Jealousy Kink / G!P / Scenting Kink / Licking / Knotting/ Cum Kink

(Glass Onion Fandom)

But if you need my love My clothes are off, I'm comin' over to your place

You can’t believe how long your day was, but you got home after a horrible day of finals. Homework and papers were making you exhausted. Keys jingled as you opened your apartment. Kicking off your white Converse and throwing your backpack. B-lining it straight to bed. You felt nauseous and had a body ache. You shivered, sweat dripping down your neck. As soon as you hit the mattress, you fell asleep.

By the time you woke up, it was dark out, and you grumbled, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. The room smelled like you and something sickeningly sweet. Not like your heat, though. Something more floral and wet?

There was an irritating sound, and you tried to block it out and go back to sleep. But it just kept going. Realizing it was, in fact, your phone. The ringtone that sang out was the one you’d picked for Claire. You hear ‘ Call me Karizma’ sing Nails.

Push me, shove me

I don't wanna have no gushy loving

Make it hot till your makeup's coming off your face but

Baby you aren't looking ugly, yeah

Hit me, punch me

Give me more, baby, this is nothing

Feel the sweat on your forehead soaking all of your bed

When we're fucking

I feel your nails in my back

Punish me for my past

Like how you're making it last

If you're gonna hurt me, hurt me

Your hands quickly fumbled under your comforter as the ringtone restarted again. You felt under the pillow until finally you found the vibrating phone.

You swiped up, eyes blearily opening. You don’t say anything and lick your lips, trying to clear your sore throat.

“Baby? Are you there? Are you ok?”

“Hmmmm?” You say confused.

“Baby? You didn’t text me when you got home. I kept messaging you. I’ve called you so many times. I’ve been worried sick!”

“Mommy?” You rubbed your eyes.

“Baby, I was so scared. I tracked your phone to see if you were home. I was ready to call a wellness check on you. It’s been hours!” Her voice sounds like she’s been through it.

You look at your window again, seeing it was indeed nighttime.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” Your voice cracks.

“9:30, I’m in the car en route to you,” Claire says, and you hear her snap at the driver, telling him to take a left, she tells him it’s faster.

“Wha?” You say sleepy and feeling groggy.

“Baby, you never answered me, and I dropped everything. I’ll be there in less than ten. Are you alright?”

“Claire, you can’t come.” You say, and you hear the Governor snort.

“I took a different car, no one is going to see me get into your building. It’ll be fine, let me worry about that.” She says like you are being silly.

“No, Claire, I’m serious, you can’t come here-”

“Why? Is someone there?” The sound is so broken and cold from her throat.

You are momentarily taken aback and you don’t answer, and you hear Claire growl deep. Something so animalistic it sounds like she’s got rabies.

“Answer me now Omega, do you have someone there? Is that what you are doing while I’m away? Is that why you didn’t pick up the phone? Someone’s fucking you? Someone’s touching you instead of your alpha? You are mated h-” Her voice sounds murderous and your body responds to it.

“Oh my god, no! Absolutely not! Claire, I think I’m sick. My throat hurts, and I’m nauseous. I don’t want to get you sick.” You say, and you listen for Claire’s mind to release the idea of you cheating on her.

“When did you start feeling sick?” She says, and her voice isn’t steady like it usually is when she talks to you. You hear her snap at the driver to cut through the parking lot, she couldn’t wait anymore.

“I don’t know, I think this morning. But honestly, this whole week it’s been coming on. I went to class, but I hurt everywhere.” You say, closing your eyes, pulling the blanket up closer. For once, it feels rough against your skin. And another cold shiver wracks through your body.

Your teeth chatter, and you regret the action because Claire hears it.

“Baby, I’m gonna be there soon. I’ll stay on the phone with you, close your eyes. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“But I don’t wanna get you sick.” You say, and your voice cracks again, and Claire is having road rage on the other end. You hear her yelling at someone not turning right in a right-hand lane.

“My love, I am not worried about that. I’m worried about you. Now close your eyes.” The governor instructs you, and you sink back onto the pillow and put the phone on speaker. Closing your eyes and falling asleep quickly.

When you wake up, Claire is in your apartment. She’d used her key you figured. You are curled against her body. Her fancy cream dress she’d worn to work, is still on. But her heels are kicked off by the door. You shiver again, and she pulls you against her body.

“Yes,” she says, and you realize she’s on the phone. Your head hurts so bad. You wince at her annoyed tone. The good news is you can smell her and that helps your mind at least.

“No, she’s waking up, and I’m going to take her temperature…. Lionel shut up. You can send me a bill…yeah I can afford it you fucking dick.” She says, and she pushes you back into the blankets, and your body is shaking. She looks conflicted about leaving you to go to your bathroom.

But Claire’s worry wins out, going to the small white bathroom, she opens drawers to find a first aid kit.

“Lionel I’m trying to find a thermometer keep your fucking hipster pants on….No, I’m ready to take her to the hospital…… She’s delirious.. No, I’m not being dramatic..I’ve been in her apartment for two hours and she keeps drifting out of consciousness and talking in her sleep..”

Claire says, and you move your hand to grab your phone, and you unlock it. The iPhone’s screen is too bright, but you blink and see sure enough, two hours have gone by. The picture of a naked Claire is your lockscreen. You move the phone to the side table, and you swing your legs over the bed. You feel yourself falling forward, and Claire moves with lightning speed, dropping your first aid kit on your bathroom floor.

Her body moves to block you from plumetting forward. She grabs you and pushes you back so you lay on the bed. Feet dangling off the side.

“Claire?” You say, and it’s whiny in your throat.

“Hold on, my love.” Claire moves back to the bathroom and comes back with her phone and first aid kit. She puts Lionel on speaker, and you hear the scientist.

“Is your friend mated?” He says and you can hear that he doesn’t believe whatever bullshit story Claire told him.

“Yes, she’s got a mate. What am I doing, Lionel?”

Claire thrusts the thermometer into your mouth. Her cold hands are pressed your forehead.

“Claire I’m not gonna say shit. Is this your mate? Because her symptoms are in line with bond sick. If she’s been away from you for too long, this can happen. It’s not super common but if you guys have a pretty..” he coughs “frequent amount of sex, and she’s under a lot of stress…this can happen. Especially if the alpha is away too long.. They used to say it only worked on ‘true mates’…I don’t know how much of that you believe but…If she’s this sick?” He trails off thinking about science. Before Claire shouts at him again, not caring about true mates or science right now.

“Lionel what the fuck do I do? Tell me how to fix it.” The Governor hisses at her friend. Guilt is coming off of her pheromones in waves. You put your hand weakly up, and she grabs it.

“You can’t leave her-“

“Why the fuck would I leave my mate like this?” She growls at the other alpha. The scientist, to his credit, doesn’t growl back. Claire takes out your thermometer to read it.

“Claire, let me finish, you can’t leave her in clothes. Her body temperature is probably fluctuating, and her pheromones can’t keep up. You gotta get her in the bathtub. Lower her body temp. If it was me..and this was my mate. I’d get in there with her.”

Claire works quick, zipping the side of her dress and throwing it across the room. She moves and pulls down your pants. You try to stop her, your teeth still chattering.

“Too cold-”

“My sweet girl I need to get you into the bathtub. Be good for me a little longer. I promise I’ll never let this happen ever again.” She says, and the strength in her voice makes your heart ache.

“Cold water or hot, Lionel?” Claire says, and she pulls your boxers down. She hauls you to your feet and makes quick work of your wet sweatshirt. It’s sticking to your sweaty body.

“Luke warm, is she on heat suppressants?”

“Why do you need to know this, Lionel?” Claire grits out, not wanting to talk about it with him. The voice makes a cracking noise from the speaker.

“I’m gonna remind you, you called me. If she’s on a heat suppressant or birth control, that can make her really sick. Mixed with bond sick these fuck up her body’s ability to fight it.” Lionel says as clinically and precisely as he can.

“She’s on both,” Claire says, and your body feels so achy and sticky. Worse than any heat you’d had. Claire wraps her strong arm around your shoulder, and you both walk naked across to your bathroom.

“Claire it’s ok- I can call someone. You have so much work-“ you say deliriously.

“I’m not going anywhere, and no one is coming in here.” Claire’s alpha voice comes out.

“Yeah, it’s a really bad idea for anyone to walk in. Does your mate have roommates? Because you will be in an alpha standoff. It won’t be pretty. Like to the death…”

“No roommates,” Claire answers and feels so protective over you. She sits your naked butt on the toilet. Moving to start the water and make the temp luke warm.

“What else, Lionel?”

“She’s not…pregnant, right? I mean..birth control and suppressants aren’t 100%.” It sounds more condescending than he meant it to.

“No, she’s not,” Claire growls through the phone.

“Are you-“

“Yes I am absolutely sure. I’d smell her and know. She’s my mate. She’s my omega I’d fucking know if she was carrying my pup. The room smells different, though.” Claire snaps, and Lionel shuts up on the idea of you being pregnant.

“Could you smell it from outside? Like almost floral-ie?”

“Yes.”

“You locked the door, right? Because if it’s a sweet scent, some Alphas will go into a frenzy.” Lionel said, and you watched Claire’s body look menacing now.

“I bought my mate four different padlocks and they’re all locked. I checked the windows, even. Also, I have a gun in my purse. No one’s getting in this apartment. No one is touching my mate.” She informs him, and you hear him gulp.

“You are one tough alpha Governor.” He says seriously, and she isn’t fazed.

“Ok, what else do I need besides the bath?”

“Um.. don’t make me say it…” He says sounding unamused.

“Lionel, I'll tell ‘you know who’ about that thing on your laptop. The secret file.” She threatens, and he’s quick to answer.

“Fuck her. Jesus, Claire, you don’t need to threaten me. Fuck her, your body is her best medicine.”

“But if I take her off birth control,” Claire says delicately, and you are relieved she doesn’t just take the bait and knock you up even in her angry, possessive state. You knew Claire would love you pregnant but you’d said not before you gradnauted and she was respecting that.

“She won’t be pregnant while she’s bond sick. Her body isn’t responding like it should. So you can..finish inside or whatever. Scenting will help too. Just any bodily fluids are good. Ok, can I go now? I don’t wanna talk about this with you anymore.” Lionel sounds like a child in this moment.

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Keep checking her vitals and make sure she has fluids. You can text me whenever. But don’t tell me any sex details. I really don’t want to know.”

“Thank you, Lionel, I owe you. You can collect whenever.”

That was terrifying, you thought absently.

“I plan on it!” He hung up.

Claire is strong enough to lift you, and you both end up in the bathtub. You are shivering and shaking like a leaf. The water isn’t super warm and it isn’t helping as you sweat. Claire is making it so you are straddling her lap. Your arms wrap around her shoulders and you realize how sweaty you are now.

Trying to move out of your girlfriends embrace.

“No, no sweetheart. Stay with me honey.” Claire coo’s and then she does something you weren’t expecting. She lets her long tongue go flat and she licks the scar on your shoulder where she claimed you. Then she keeps licking your sweaty neck like she’s a jungle cat cleaning you. Your heart rate picks up at the feeling of her tongue against your sticky skin.

It’s working though, your mind doesn’t feel so foggy.

“Don’t stop. Oh god I must taste so gross though, and I’m getting you all sweaty-” You whimper and Claire takes a moment of solace in knowing it’s working. Before she pulls back to talk to you.

“You always taste good. Don’t worry my love. I’m going to put my cock inside of you, ok?” Claire asked and it sounds so sweet when she says it. Like she was telling you she’s giving you some cough syrup for your flu.

“I am so not cute right now, I don’t know why-” You shudder and her manicured nails move down to your cunt. You are embaressed by how much slick is there. You shake against her and your head falls back.

“You are my mate, always so adorable. I always desire you. There’s never a moment I don’t want to be inside of you. It’s gonna help ok?”

Claire tried to be gentle with you. But the truth was the second she’d smelled you from the taxi she’d been hard as a fucking rock. Feeling the need to use your holes.

“Inside, please alpha god.” You murmur and for the first time you realize how her cock is pressed against you and it was hot against your skin. Claire moves with practiced ease, she can tell that you don’t need any foreplay. You are swollen and wet as hell. But Claire doesn’t let her instincts take over. She only inserts half of her dick and you both moan in tandem.

“More, god more please.” Your pussy clenches against Claire’s hot cock inside of you.

“Slow-”

“No, it’s been too long. Please go inside. I need you so badly. I’ve missed you so much Mama please use me.”

Claire’s body responds without her say. Her thick cock pushes all the way in and you cry out in relief. Your pussy fluttering against her, skin on skin, your eyes fall close. Claire doesn’t move to fuck you, she wraps her arms around your wet body. The two of you sway to a beat that isn’t auditory. Bodys as close as possible, breasts against breasts. You inhale into her neck smelling her expensive perfume, clean shampoo, and something so signature Claire. Calming pheramones are pushed around the room, and you can’t tell who started them.

You stay in the tub for a really long time. You’re not sure how long. But when you wake up you are dry and dressed. In a very expensive long mercedies town car.

You blink and realized that your entire comforter is wrapped around your body and someone is in your blanket burito with you. Blinking you see Claire is staring off to the side. She’s got dark circles under her eyes.

“Claire what’s happening?”

“I’m taking you home baby.”

“I thought we were home? We were at my apartment how’d we get here?” You said confused and panic started to come to the surface. You look over to see a bunch of boxes and your three suitcases. Claire packed your shit. Your school bookbag was on the top.

“No gorgeous, I’m taking you home, to our home.” Claire’s arms are strong and tight against you but you pull back enough to look into her sad blue eyes.

“Claire?”

“We can talk more inside, we’re almost at the townhouse. I packed everything I thought you’d need. Tomorrow you’re going to end your lease-”

“Claire!” You were awake now. You saw her gulp but she looked so tired.

“I will contact movers for the rest of your things in the morning-”

“Claire!” You snap unable to believe her right now. She was being such a paranoid alpha.

“We’re coming out in a press conference in two days. I already emailed my team-”

“You are being such an asshole right now! You can’t just make these decisions! That’s such a toxic alpha thing to do Claire! Come on we talked about this!” You tried to push off of her chest but she grabbed your wrist hard, harder than she ever had before. You saw Claire’s teeth bare, knowing the alpha in her wanted to growl at you and pin you. Remind you of your place. Which was ridiculous, that’s not who Claire was! But Claire cleared her throat instead.

“Baby-”

“Don’t Baby me-” You snapped and Claire lost her composure now. She pulled you tightly against her and she let you have it.

“You didn’t hold your unconscious lover against your body in the bath for four hours. So until you’ve experienced what I just saw you don’t get to tell me what I’m capable of! I thought you were going to fucking die. I thought it was all my fault! That I had come too late. So no, I don’t much care about your landlords opinion or your furniture. Or whatever CNN or Fox is going to say. I want the love of my life. My fucking wife to be safe and warm in my bed. No more of this long distance bullshit. It’s done. You can be mad at me as much as you want, in the comfort of our home. You can yell and shout at me and tell me how I’ve taken your choice away. Like I’m the bad alpha of this story. But my god will you be safe, and that…that will be enough.” Claire panted like she’d just run a marathon with you. Like her heart was broken.

The car stopped just then and you felt like you wanted to cry. But the omega inside of you wanted to give into her. You’d hated the long distance and so had your strong Governor. Claire had done it for you. She’d been relieved to not have to do a big press conference. But not because she didn’t want people to know you were her mate. Because she wanted you to have a little bit of normal. Get to be a college student. But now, now she needed you home. Safe.

You were both snapped out of a trance of staring at each other.

Larry, a nice Beta from the Bronx tapped on the glassdoor. Obviously he smelled the mixture of upset and alpha pharmones all in the car. He’d probably have to go get it cleaned to get rid of the two of their smell.

Claire pulled the blanket back and you saw she had on her dress from earlier again. While you were in black sweat pants and one of Claire’s college sweatshirts. You would have normally found it cute. She’d even put on your light blue fuzzy socks with your lucky white converse. Claire knew you and it showed. But you refused to focus on that. You were pissed at her.

Claire opened the car door and put her hand out and she took you. Pulling you into the townhouse and easily resetting the alarm system.

Your jaw was jutting to the side in obvious upset. When you’d imagined coming home to Claire you hadn’t thought it would be while you were unconscious. Larry surprised you by coming in with your boxes. He moved them easily into the hallway.

“Thanks Larry.” You gave him a sad smile and he nodded.

“You be easy on her flower. Governors been a mess without you.” He whispered to you and you felt a little guilty. But he turned on his heel and went to get more boxes.

You walked into the house and inhaled. It smelled like Claire, but it was also a little too clean. Obviously she didn’t spend as much time here. Claire walked into the kitchen to pour herself a scotch and get you more water. She was concerned about the amount of fluids you’d lost.

When she walked back into the hall you took your shoes off, and then went to grab the alcohol from her hand and she pulled it back. Before giving your palm the water instead. You rolled your eyes but took it. Taking long sips you were really thirsty.

You both didn’t wait for Larry, walking up the stairs you went up two flights before going towards the guest bedroom. Agatha grabbed the hood of your sweatshirt and pulled it like a leash. You couldn’t believe her, but then again you could.

“Nice try.” Claire said sarcastically knowing you were trying to be passive aggressive and she wasn’t going to put up with that. Guiding you into the master bedroom. You walked in and rolled the blankets back before pulling all your clothes off. Knowing Claire’s rules when you two slept next to each other. You were always supposed to be naked. You didn’t want to forgive her right now. But you also didn’t wanna fight right anymore.

Going into the middle of the bed you grabbed Claire’s pillow and inhaled. Claire’s eyebrow twitched, she was suddenly jealous of a stupid pillow. She took the dress off again, bra and underwear gone. Letting it fall and not caring about putting her clothes away right now. Claire moved into the bed and you tried to pull away and she growled.

Then got on top of you. She grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them over your head. You felt her strong cock against your hip. A bit of wet precum leaked against your skin.

“How long are we going to play this game little girl?” Claire leaned down so that you were sharing the same breath.

“You-”

“I know, you don’t like that your alpha made a decision without you. But it’s time. You need my knot. I need you safe. I need…god damn it I need you. Can we make a compromise for the night? Then tomorrow you can be upset with me again?” She offered and her tongue pressed against the side of her cheek and you watched the muscle move in her mouth.

“I can be really mad? All day?” You clarified.

“Throw things, run up my credit card, smash all the vases in the house if It makes you feel better.”

“Tomorrow?” You leaned in and it sounded more like a whimper. Claire’s cock became fully hard at the noise her omega was making.

“Tomorrow.” Claire says and you close the little distance and kiss her hard. She greedily takes every inch of your mouth over. Claire’s desire to fuck you on FOX may come true if you keep making those little noises.

“Breed me?” You pout and Claire laughs grabbing your hips she opens your legs and you wrap them around her hips. It’s a vice grip and Claire doesn’t have any plans on trying to get out of it.

“You were so mad at your alpha two seconds ago for forcing you to move in with me. Now you want me to fill you up with my seed?” Claire’s voice is dark and raspy and you nodd. All anger leaving your body and only want coming back. You’d been feeling so ill and the physical proximity of Claire was making everything better.

“Touch me please, It’s been so long.” You cry and you try to free your hand to grab onto Claire’s cock. But her perfect nails dig into your wrists. You can tell she’s about to go feral. She closes her eyes and tries to stop herself. You see her counting. And you shake your head. “Let go Claire. Use me.”

Claire loses whatever composure she was working on when you say that. Releasing your wrists she moves her dick and pushes into you.

Her fingers go down and pinch your clit hard and you scream. She holds your clit between her nail and finger and then she fucks you with abandon. Her hips seeming to have a mind of their own. Like Claire isn’t even aware of her own actions. Like only her alpha need can see you right now. You twist and cry and scream and Claire doesn’t stop.

The wet sounds of your cunt being ruthlessly hammered into. You don’t assist you just hold onto Claire’s shoulders with your nails.

Claire fucks you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. Like you are her last meal. Sweat is rolling off the Govenor and her pupils are blown.

You are about to cum and you bite your lip and your eyes roll back trying to contain the noises and Claire leans down, not liking you quieting yourself. She bites down hard on the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder and your toes curl. Blood comes from her bite. You wail until your voice is gone.

And Claire keeps going and you realize she’s holding on, and you can’t have that. So you decide to do something you read in a smutty book. See if it works here. Reaching up you grab her hair and she jerks in surprise.

“I thought you were going to be an alpha and breed me? If I wanted a good time I’d just call a friend.” You said it and something so sinister crossed Claires face that you wondered if she was going to lose it. If you’d be in even bigger trouble. Her knot twitches against you and fills quickly and she slaps against your body in a way that stings now.

“I’ll invite everyone of our friends over so they can see you get pregnant for me. Is that what you want omega? Is that why you think you can taunt me? You need me to show you what you are?”

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out as her knot is pushing against your soaked abused cunt. And you can’t believe how big it is and that Claire is making it go in so slow, and you can’t breathe. But Claire fucks you with precision until the knot is inside and you two can’t move. It’s pressing against your walls. You are almost painfully ful.

“Hold my cum inside baby. Be good for me. And maybe I’ll forgive you for what you just said.” Claire sucked your neck leaving giant hickies and you shuddered. Knowing that her knot wouldn’t deflate for hours and she was going to do whatever she wanted to your body in that time.

To Be Continued...

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #kathryn hahn #claire debella x reader #claire debella #alpha/omega #Spotify

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jar0fhoney · 9 months ago

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PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW) - PART 6 - PART 7 (NSFW) - PART 8 (NSFW)

You started having the dream again. The disembodied eyes of your father floating in a black void. Just the eyes. Nothing else.

And for hours- and it really felt like hours- they would just stare at you. The eyes never moved, or blinked, or did anything other than hang in the air. But there was a terrible sense of dread when you looked into them. You couldn’t force yourself to look away.

And so that was why you had been losing sleep. You didn’t tell your mother that though. When she asked what troubled you, you made up some excuse to quell her worry. You could never tell her the truth; the truth that there was some piece of you left which never recovered. But guilt nearly destroyed your mother, and you couldn’t bear to let it fester in her any longer.

On Sunday you spread all of the ingredients the orc man gave you across your table. He didn’t even tell you the measurements. Your mother glanced down at you as she made her way to the root cellar. She stopped in her tracks, “By the Gods, are you making golden eggs?” You cocked your head at her questioningly. “Where did you find turmeric all the way out here?” She grabbed a pinch of it, “And so much of it too!”

“Uh-“ Your mother had a sparkle in her eyes that you hadn’t seen for a few years. She chuckled to herself, “Years ago. Many many years ago. There was a very nice orc family who lived just down the path. The wife taught me this recipe.”

Orc family? This was the first you have heard of an orc family. “You never told me you had orc friends Ma!” You jeered at her. She smiled warmly. “You hadn’t been born yet, of course you wouldn’t have remembered. Your elder sister loved playing with the little orc girl.” She reached for a jar from the cupboard and began concocting the mixture. When she was done the eggs swirled around in the vibrant yellow brine.

There was still turmeric left over, and your mother was so excited to show you how it could even be an excellent clothing dye. She took one of your more drab frocks got to work.

You weren’t used to feeling pretty. Sure, you knew you weren’t ugly by any stretch of the imagination. But to feel pretty? Beautiful even? It had been years.

But today, on regular Monday, you felt radiant. Your mother actually gasped when you stepped out of your room. You looked like a dream in the yellow shade your mother had dyed the fabric. She insisted on arranging your hair specially to go with the dress. “It’s just another Monday, Ma. Any more primping and I’ll be over-dressed.” The older woman sighed, kissing you on the forehead, “Fine go along now… before I start braiding daisies in your hair.” You giggled and practically skipped out the front door. Tucked in your basket was the jar of golden eggs.

The town square was nearly vacant, save for a few other shopkeepers opening up for the day. And then you saw the trio of orc men sharpening their arrows and adjusting the tension of their great longbows. You reckoned they were just about to leave for a hunt. Curse the Gods for your lingering gaze, but you made direct eye contact with one of them. You made direct eye contact with him. The orc you had bloodied and bruised the previous week.

Something (probably a lack of self-preservation) compelled you to start walking towards the bunch. If your mother could make peace with orcs, why couldn’t you? “But this isn’t a peaceful family with children, they’re trained killers, y/n…” You thought to yourself. The little muscle inside your chest was puttering away as you got closer. The two other hunting mates had started to notice your approach now. Your orc acquaintance had sort of a surprised yet dumb look on his face as you stopped before him.

”You didn’t write me a recipe, but you can thank my mother for knowing how to prepare these.” You extended the jar to him. His friends were snickering to themselves, and the orc just sat there staring at the contents of the jar. One of his buddies guffawed and whacked a big hand onto his back, “This simpleton can’t read to save his life… won’t be getting any recipes from him!”

You also held out the two silver pieces he had given you, and dropped them into his open palm. “And I can’t take these. Not after I injured you. Can we consider ourselves even now?”

“Khargaad, you didn’t tell us this was who the scuffle was with.” The other orc friend chuckled, “And look at that, not a scratch on her. Guess she won.”

Khargaad. Was that his name? Or was it a word in their mother tongue? He shot a venomous look to his friends, and with that they backed away leaving the two of you alone. “These look… like they’re supposed to,” He said in a tone of mild surprise. “Your mother… She knows other orcs?”

Was he trying to make conversation with you? “Um- Yes! Yes, it was a long while ago. They lived down the road from my family. It was before I was born, but they got along well from what I hear,” you replied. There was a deeply awkward pause before he glanced quickly at your dress. “Oh!” You gasped, “my mother taught me about this as well. The yellow stuff you gave me is an excellent clothing dye.”

“Yes, I know.” His tone was a little gruff. You felt foolish for telling him what he probably already knew. “Your name is Khargaad?” You blurted out. A hint of color rose to his cheeks, “Yup. Khargaad. And- um- what may I call you?”

”y/n,” you replied with a nervous smile. Silence hung over the both of you for a second. “Well, I’ll be on my way.” He said, turning on his heel to join his hunting mates. “Stay safe out there!” You responded. Your inner-self cringed, that reply was probably too familiar. He glanced back at you one more time before jogging to catch his friends.

The next day Milo found you sweeping outside the shop. “Why were you talking to those orcs?” He spat at you. You didn’t look up at him, “Just customers.” This technically wasn’t untrue.

”You don’t have orc customers”

”Says who. You?” You snorted at him, pushing the dust from the cobblestones onto his shiny leather boots. He yanked the broom from your grasp, “Why are you wearing that?” He hissed. You glared at him, wrenching the broom back from his grasp. “It’s none of your fucking business-“

“Let me buy you new dresses, y/n. You look like an orc.” You straightened a bit. “What do you mean?” Milo rolled his eyes. “It’s turmeric. They often dye their clothes with turmeric. It looks ridiculous if you ask me…” He trailed off. You were tired of this conversation, leaving him standing in the street. He didn’t bother to follow you inside.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You spent the last hour hammering some boards over the window still shattered from your target practice.

You didn’t notice Karghaad watching you across the square.

Thank you to everyone’s sweet comments, and to those who wanted a part 2 😘

@kennedyabraxas123 @allthecraftandthings @sunndust @blushycadaver @whyiamadegenerate @beaniebaneenie @reads-stuff-quietly

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trippinsorrows · 19 days ago

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dreamland: little do you know

authors note: this is part three of the ’can you stand the rain’ mini series within dreamland. make sure you’ve read ’the rough patch’ and 'faded' before reading this one.

warnings: angst (including discussion and mention of disease)

words: 13k

song inspo/rec listening: little do you know by alex and sierra

Lina isn’t having a good day.

Not really.

It’s not horrible, but it’s not great, either.

Almost burning herself with her flat iron, completely forgetting about that quiz in Geometry that she’s certain she probably flunked, on top of a shitty soccer practice, she’s just ready for the day to be over so that she can try again tomorrow.

Never mind the fact that she’s had more….not so great days than she’d like to admit.

Some really bad days, even.

But, fresh out of the shower, ready and eager to call it a day by getting in bed and sleeping her problems—not really—away, seems like the best plan. Unfortunately, it’s a plan that won’t come to fruition. It doesn’t come to fruition because the minute Lina opens the door to her bedroom, not only is the light already on, but her space is occupied.

Her siblings. All of them sans Aroha who was put to bed by their mom almost an hour ago.

Leya sits on her twin sister's bed, legs crossed, chewing down on her bottom lip. A clear indication of anxiety. Aria is right next to her in the same position, looking even more worried than her big sister. Koa sits at the chair at her desk, Kai on her fluffy bean bag. Normally, she’d tell him to get off, but the bothered expression on his face, Koa’s as well, has her biting back her comment.

Tama stands, leaning against the wall near the doors of her balcony, arms crossed, gaze mostly downward, eyes lifting up to hers only for a minute. Lina frowns. Of all her brothers and sisters, Tama is the only one who doesn’t look nervous or anxious or even frightened.

He looks pissed off.

Lina waits to close, and lock, the door behind her before stepping into the room, gaze suspicious. “What’s going on?”

Tama is the first to answer. “We need to talk.”

Lina scoffs. “Clearly.” She also crosses her arms, expression softening as she looks at her twin. “What’s going on, sissy?

Except, it’s not her womb mate who answers. It’s instead a clearly shaken Samaria. “Mom and dad aren’t sleeping in the same room anymore.”

“Wh–what?” Lina has to break a small smile. It has to be the craziest thing she’s heard all day, and she’s not afraid to express as such. “That’s ridiculous.”

Aria shakes her head. “I saw it.” Shifting on the bed, she starts to explain. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” Just that portion makes Lina’s smile drop. She’s never known her little sister to not be able to sleep, but something tells Lina she knows exactly why. Not that she’ll admit it. Not aloud, at least. “So, I got up around 1 to get some Melatonin out of the kitchen, and when I was coming up the steps, I saw daddy go in one of the guest bedrooms.”

Lina stills. “What?”

Leya’s frown deepens. “I know.”

Again, another unimaginable thing, prompting Lina to shake her head. “He was probably getting something.”

“I waited, Lina,” comes Samaria’s small voice, her shoulders dropping. “I waited for 15 minutes on the stairs to see if he would come out.” Her voice goes quiet, frown deepening like her sister beside her. “He didn’t.”

Lina has never really been the child with nothing to say. In fact, most would argue that she has too much to say. No sign of a filter anywhere. Her father’s daughter in every sense and way. But, in that moment, she’s truly speechless. Koa is the one to voice exactly what she’s thinking.

“That’s never happened before.” He looks around the room. “This has never happened before.”

“It’s getting worse,” Kai adds, making eye contact with Lina. “First it was the ignoring each other, then the fighting, and now they’re not even sleeping in the same room?” He shakes his head, jaw clenching. “Something’s going on with them.”

“I think we know what’s going on.” Tama breaks his silence, voice just as tight as the expression on his face. “Dad did something.”

At that, Lina breaks her silence. “What?”

Tama kicks his foot off the wall, arms still crossed. “It’s obvious, Lina, and you know it.” His eyes flash with something before hardening once more. “I think he che—”

“Don’t you say that,” Leya’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and threatening almost. It draws all sets of eyes on her. “Dad would never cheat on mom.”

“Then, why is all this happening?” He demands, anger clearly masking the same fear and confusion the rest of them are experiencing. “And, if he’s not the one who did something, then why isn’t he in their bedroom and mom the one in the guest room? She put him out.”

“That’s not even like dad,” Koa speaks up, looking at his twin. “He loves mom.”

“He loves all of us,” Lina corrects, demanding the attention and floor once more. “And, he would never hurt her or us like that.” Lina’s second statement is directed to her younger brother, her best friend in a lot of ways, different from her connection with Leya but still deep. However, in that moment, they couldn’t be on two different pages. She sees it though. Sees that the anger is just a cover-up for what he’s really feeling. They’re similar like that. Emotions sometimes being harder for them to open up about, but right now, in this moment, she doesn’t have the luxury of letting those feelings flow.

Her siblings need her.

It’s time to be the big sister.

“Look guys, Tama is right that something is definitely going on, but it’s not that. It’s….something they’re not telling us, and it’s probably because it’s none of our business.” Which, Lina can wholly understand, she may only be almost 15, but she’s smart enough to know there are some things husbands and wives keep between themselves, and this has to be one of them. “But, what we do know is how busy they’ve been these past few months. Ripping and running, taking care of us.” She frowns a bit. “They barely have time for themselves.” Or each other. “We’ve gotta….we’ve gotta help them.” She has the focus of all her siblings, something sustains as she sets her plan in motion. “We are going to help them.”

Samaria is the one to ask, voice still low, concern still abundant. “But, how?”

Kai voices agreement, shrugging and reminding, “we’re just kids.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re helpless,” is her calm counter, Lina’s brain calculating and planning in real time as she shares her plans. “We can help them, and we will by easing their stress. Not making things hard for him.” She starts with Koa and Kai. “No more hacking.” Then Aria, “I know you like to talk about and do your plays for them, but for right now, if you have something to share, share it with one of us. And no asking daddy for anything. Mommy, neither.” Then, Leya, her gaze softening. “Sissy, if your anxiety gets bad, talk to me. If it happens at school, text me. I’ll help you.” Finally, Tama. Lina takes a deep breath. “You and I can’t crash out like we do. If someone pisses us off, we just have to brush shit off or something. Work it out in the gym.” A look around the room, a general statement. “We can’t make things harder for them, you guys. They can’t…they can’t handle it right now.”

Lina won’t admit it, but a part of her is scared what will happen if they don’t make these changes.

What it could mean for the family as a whole.

Koa speaks up, suggesting, “we could maybe pick up some chores, too.”

Leya nods, clearly agreeing. “Take over laundry.”

“We can also alternate cleaning the kitchen, maybe even cooking,” Samaria adds, the rest of them clearly in agreement.

“Exactly. We do as much as we can so they can do as little as possible.” It feels like a good, solid plan, one that clearly has the cosign of them all, Tama included, who offers a small nod of agreement.

Lina is ready to also suggest they try to handle dinner more days than not when a small knock on her door is followed by it opening. Her expression softens.

“Roro, what are you doing up?”

Aroha answers in the softest voice, rubbing at her eyes. “I had a bad dream.” A frown followed up with an almost emotional, “and, mommy and daddy didn’t answer the door when I knocked.”

Lina stills. Was it because mom didn’t want Aroha seeing that daddy wasn’t sleeping in the room with her? Is she in the bathroom, maybe? Slept through the knocking? Lina has no idea, she just watches as Leya opens her arm for Roro who shuffles over to the bed, climbing into Leya’s lap as she holds her and kisses the top of her head.

Sighing, Lina closes the door and waits for Leya to calm down their little sister before sitting on the edge of her bed. “Aroha…” Roro’s eyes fall on her, waiting and expecting. “I know…I know you like to wear your costumes to school, but you gotta wear your uniform every day for a little while.” Remembering something else, she adds, “and you gotta make sure to put all your toys away when you’re done playing, okay?”

Before Aroha can ask an understandable question of why, Leya is already five steps ahead. “We’re all trying to help mommy and daddy a little more, and make things easier for them, so they don’t get so stressed.” She cranes her head to look at her while asking. “Does that make sense?”

Somewhat to Lina’s surprise, Aroha nods slowly, following up with a question of her own. Quiet. Soft. Hopeful. “And then they’ll be happy again?”

It’s such an innocent but valid question. One Leya, nor Lina, or any of the Reigns’ children, have the answer to, because they all have similar, scarier questions.

Can their parents be happy again?

As her siblings spill out, all in agreement with the plan, Leya holding Aroha who will sleep with her tonight, Lina extends her arm to stop Tama as he’s the last to leave.

She looks at him. “Hey.” Lina moves to close the door, standing and leaning against it. “Don’t do that.”

Tama gives it away without even saying a word, eyes diverted to the corner of her room, the bookshelf that houses countless trophies. Similar to the ones in his room. “Do what?”

“That thing we do,” she sighs. “Where we have a shit ton of feelings and hold it all in.” A pause. “Or, take it out on people.”

He cracks the smallest smile, and in that moment, he reminds her a lot of the man he’s holding that anger towards.

“What you’re thinking, Tamasa….” Her little brother returns his gaze to her, smile wiped and replaced with that same expression. “He didn’t do it. Daddy would never cheat on mom.” Words already said but also words that need to be repeated. “You’ve seen how he is with her. He’s not like that with anyone except her. He loves her.”

A heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I know. I know. It’s just…” He shakes his head, running his hands through his long hair. “I just don't know what else to think. Whatever it is has to be bad for her to put him out the room, Lina.”

“I agree.” Because, she does. Catalina can’t and won’t deny that. “But, it’s not that, and it will never be that, because I know daddy, and so do you. He’s not that kinda guy.” Lina sighs, pulling from historical receipts. “The way you treat mommy. How protective you are of her and how much you love her. Where do you think you got that from?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. Doesn’t need one. “Daddy. You got it from daddy. Since you were little, he’s always shown and talked with you about how women should be treated. So, why would he do the opposite?”

She’s met with silence, expected and appreciated, because she knows, like herself, when Tama is quiet, it’s because he’s thinking. Reflecting. Processing.

Just like daddy.

“You’re right.” A sigh of defeat, the anger from earlier almost entirely melted away. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Lina sighs. “Exactly.” She reaches out her hand, lightly squeezing his shoulder. “We’re gonna get through this….alright?”

A small nod, their gazes locked, the smallest wry smile falling on his face. “Thanks, Lina.” She smiles back. “Who knew you had a heart somewhere in there?”

“Shut up, dumbass.” She rolls her eyes, the two sharing laughter as she offers, “hey, you wanna join me for my workout tomorrow after school?”

His eyes light up, the answer and obvious one. “Hell yeah.” The older Tama gets, the more she’s found they bask and revel in their shared love of sports and fitness, the reunification of the “terror non-twins” as their Uncle Dwayne used to call them.

They share a fist bump before he leaves, allowing Lina the silence to process it all. The conversation. The reassurance and hope she hopes she successfully fed her siblings. Hope that she can only pray doesn’t turn out to be fruitless.

—-----

It’s a sickening sense of deja vu. A level of dread Solana never in a million years thought she’d have to experience. A type of hurt and pain that feels more physical than anything yet weighs down her mental unlike anything else. It’s knives to the chest, slashing and stabbing, slowly, gradually, carving out deeper and deeper, finding new layers to mar. To scar.

To burn.

To say Solana has been doing well would be a lie. A bold faced lie. She was already struggling, more than she realized, but this….this….this has been something entirely different. Something that's had her reaching for her PRN pills she hasn’t taken in God knows how long. A necessity given the two panic attacks she’s had since that.

It’s just too much. All of it. Solana has always done her best to remain as “strong” as possible, largely for her children, her entire world. But, she’s only human, and a woman, a woman who finds herself facing a type of betrayal she would have bet her life could and would never happen.

She was wrong.

So so wrong.

The first few days are the hardest though. Even harder than trying to pretend like everything was okay for the sake of her children. A facade.

He’s tried to speak with her. Several times. And, not just the forced conversation they manage in front of the kids but attempts to pull her to the side in those rare moments of privacy between the two. She shuns him every time. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, because she does. Some part of her, at least. It’s that she can’t. She can’t, because Solana knows all she’ll do is just breakdown and cry. Not that she hasn’t done that already. It feels like all she’s done since then.

A brave face during the day only to sob profusely on the floor of their once shared bathroom, sitting against the locked door, legs pulled up to her chest as she cries into her thighs.

A privacy allotted due to her kicking Roman out of their bedroom. Their separation might not be able to come right away, but that doesn’t mean she can’t do what she can to keep as much distance between them as she can for the time being.

Because despite his protests, a separation is what’s desperately needed since that.

A horrible, awful suspicion confirmed that’s wrecked her entire world.

She tried her best to push the thoughts away. He would never do that to me. A hill she would have died on at one point, but a hill that she started to gradually descend at his changing behavior over the past few weeks to months. She figured it was work stuff, as that’s usually what causes Roman to shut down more or lean more on the irritated side. Not that he ever showed that side of her. He didn’t. He’d instead slip into a space of quiet, allowing her to comfort him. Rubbing his scalp as he laid on top of her. Shirtless, laying on the bed, as she sat on his back, giving him a massage. Sometimes just laying and sitting with him in silence.

But, none of that happened. It hadn’t happened, because instead of welcoming her, he’d pushed her away. A distance between them she felt, saw widening but tried to make excuses for. The touch was less. The sex was non-existent.

Tears burn her eyes as she recalls the few times she tried to initiate the latter, only for him to reject her, albeit kindly.

“Not tonight, baby. I’m tired.”

An understandable excuse, usually. But, not for her husband. Roman never turned down any opportunity to be intimate with her. Ever.

But, he had, and now….now, she’s certain she knows why.

Solana sniffles and wipes at her eyes, continuing to overthink and drown in her thoughts.

Revisiting and analyzing every interaction with him over the past few weeks, from the most minute of details that seemed irrelevant at times to the more overt ones, not even involving him.

The way she’d casually spoke to Matteo during one of his trips to the house to see the kids and bring over his own. How she’d mentioned Roman seemed more tense than usual. Insinuating concern. The way his brother simply dismissed those concerns, kindly and in a Matteo sort of manner, hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m sure he’s fine.” His eyes held a kindness and something else she now wonders was something else. “You know how Roman is.”

No. No, she doesn’t. Because Roman, her Roman, would never do something like this.

Would never do this to her.

And, then the overthinking continued. Did Matteo know? Was he simply covering for his little brother? She’d always heard that when men cheat, it’s not uncommon for their closest male friends to know, and who was closer to Roman than this brother?

Dwayne, as well, but she has no evidence to support that.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop the spiraling from continuing.

Worsening as Solana resulted to looking her up on Instagram. A public profile that boasted a variety of pictures, many of her smiling and posing, showing off an impressive body that anyone would envy. Including a mother of seven whose shape has changed over the years from age and multiple childbirths.

Celeste’s face is stunning, her waist tiny, hips and ass thick.

Just his type.

That only dug up another layer of anxiety. Tapped into long buried—or, so she thought—insecurities that once marred the very early days of her marriage.

Solana comparing herself to other women. The type of women Roman once entertained. Maybe the type of women he still wants to entertain. Because, while Solana has definitely put on a little weight over the years from age and children, it seems her husband only gets better with age. At 54, he’s in arguably the best shape of his life. Any woman would want him. They’ve always fawned at his feet, and he’s always paid them no mind.

But, Celeste….something made her different.

A sickening thought crossed Solana’s mind as she recalled another age-old saying.

“If he’s not getting it from you, he’s getting it from somewhere.”

Celeste

He’s been getting it from Celeste.

It brings her to the toilet, emptying the little food she’d had that day. Her appetite was all but gone the past few days, another indication of a pending depressive episode.

The only thing that keeps her going is her kids, though it pains her to have to put on such an act in front of them. A necessity though, as Solana knows the pending separation between herself and Roman will be hard enough on them. And, she hates that. Hates that they’re even in this situation. Hating that that’s what most likely will happen once they figure….whatever out.

She hates it all.

Every single bit of it.

—-------

It’s hard to say who notices it first.

Roman or Solana. Maybe both, to some extent. Regardless as to who took notice first is less important as to the thing itself.

Neither parent would ever describe any of their children as bad. Far from it. They can just be….a lot, at times. All the time. But, that’s a given with most things, because at the end of the day, they’re just kids.

Because, one promise they’d made to each other, even before Lina and Leya were born was that they’d do anything and everything they could to make sure the kids had a childhood. That they got to be kids. That they got the experience Roman and Solana never truly had.

And for the most part, they’d like to think they’ve been successful with that. There’s not much the parents wouldn’t do for their babies, bending over backwards sometimes to ensure that happy and stress free, as much as possible, childhood.

That’s why they took notice to the changes. Some subtle. Some more overt. Solana found herself not having to remind the kids of certain things like chores and homework. Roman didn’t have to repeat himself. Not once.

School mornings a thing of ease. Aroha coming down the steps already in her uniform, her hair also done, courtesy of Leya. Solana finding several of her kids in the kitchen sometimes before she could get there to start preparing dinner, either there to help her or already on the brink of finishing said dinner.

Evenings were also a thing of ease. Roman didn’t have to spend two hours getting them all in their rooms and down for bed. It now took under an hour.

The Littles even in the midst of some type of peace treaty, no arguing occurring between them.

No protest. No pushback. It felt like the Twilight zone. It felt off, because something was off.

Very much so.

Walking down the steps from her shower, Solana was fully prepared to clean the kitchen. Only to find it all done, all of her seven children boasting proud smiles, but none more than the youngest.

Aroha rushed over with all the excitement. “Look, mommy and daddy!” She points back to the kitchen. "We leaned it for you."

It's the acknowledgment of her husband that makes Solana realize Roman was nearby, clearly having just come from his office. A brief glance. Nothing more. She doesn’t maintain their eye contact. Not at all.

Clearing her throat, Solana braves a smile, walking deeper into the kitchen. “It looks so nice.” It really does. She can tell it was a collaborative effort, as it’s been for the past few days since the start of her kids off behavior. “But, you guys don’t have to keep cleaning the kitchen for me. I want you to focus on your homework—”

“I don’t get homework,” Aroha announces, still with the biggest smile on her face. “So, I can do lots of cleaning!”

His deep voice sounds from behind. A chuckle. “You’re a kid, baby girl. You don’t need to be doing lots of cleaning.” A pause. “None of you do.”

Solana catches it, and she’s certain Roman does, too, the flick of something that appears in almost all of the kids’ expressions. Subtle but visible, with the exception of one, the youngest and most open with her often big feelings.

Aroha’s eyes light up with excitement, as she asks with a big smile on her face. “Does that mean you guys are happy now?”

Leya gasps, the first to try to do damage control. “Roro.”

Solana frowns, too focused on her youngest, recognizing there’s clearly something behind that. Walking over and crouching down, Solana asks, “what do you mean, baby?”

Tama steps forward, nervousness visible. "It's nothing, mama."

Solana says nothing, knowing that the answer she's looking for won't come from him. Or the rest of them.

It'll come from Aroha.

And with the truest innocence of a young child, she shares with all of the excitement. “We’ve been really good so you and daddy can be happy again.”

Solana has to hold back her tears.

Them.

The kids have been doing all of this, bending over backwards, just to try to make them happy.

Damn.

Thankfully, Roman takes over, gently ordering the rest of them, on the same page as his wife, even without verbal communication. “Kids, come sit down.”

Solana takes Aroha’s hand, guiding her to sit right next to her on the sofa, as the rest of the kids find various seats in their spacious living room. Roman sits in the love chair.

Solana would be lying if she said the lack of him next to her, where he always sits when they need to discuss something with their children, isn’t felt. Necessary. But, still….difficult.

Swallowing, being mindful of her tone and volume, she takes the lead, “you guys…your dad and I….” She stops herself, refusing to let herself cry. Not in front of her babies who have clearly been more impacted by all of this than she initially realized. “We’re going through something right now.”

“And, it has nothing to do with any of you,” Roman adds before anyone can say anything, warm eyes surveying the room. “It’s…it’s between us.”

“We know,” Lina says in a quiet voice, looking between Leya and Tama. “That’s why…we’ve been trying to help out more.”

Leya nods. “We can do whatever you guys need. You just…you have to tell us.”

"And you only have to tell us once," Samaria interjects. "We promise."

The sweetest, kindest, most heartbreaking thing that Solana has heard in some time. A sentiment clearly shared by her husband, given the brief, shared glance between them.

Roman handles the next portion, voice equally firm as it is caring. “The only thing we need you all to do is be kids.”

That’s all they’ve ever wanted. Was for their children to be children, and to know that hasn’t been happening, maybe even longer than the past few days, is a tough pill to swallow.

But, the clarification seems to only whip the premature smile off Aroha’s face. “So…so we didn’t make you happy again?”

“Oh baby,” Solana pulls her youngest into her arms, holding her and kissing the top of her head. “As long as mommy has you all, I’ll always be happy.”

Even if happiness seems like a hard emotion to acquire these past few days, it’s still felt every time she looks at her children. Though in this moment, she’s filled with regret. Regret that her issues with her husband have bled over into her children, filling them with obvious worry that no child should have to experience.

She hates it.

Hates it all.

“Your dad…” Solana allows her gaze to fall on Roman, once more the two of them engaging in unspoken conversation. He gives a subtle nod, encouraging her to continue. “Your dad and I are gonna go away for a couple days. Probably a week.”

As expected, a bombardment of questions.

“Why?”

“When will you be back?”

“Can we come with you?”

“Is it because of us?”

It’s that last comment that has Roman beating Solana in the metaphorical race to immediately shoot that down. The last thing they want is any of the kids thinking what’s happening is somehow their fault.

“Not at all. None of you have done anything wrong.” His voice is firm and final, as he makes eye contact with each and every one of them. “Mom and I just need some time to talk and figure out things, and we need to do it away from you all, so you don’t continue to worry and stress.”

Words similar to what she’d texted him not even an hour ago, recognizing that they couldn't go on the way that they were.

Solana: i know we need to talk, but that’s not going to happen with the kids around. i talked with bayley and rhea, they’re gonna come stay with them for a week while we go away and try to figure all this out.

Roman: Where do you want to go?

Solana: fetu’s place…

Roman: Okay.

Naturally, both Bayley and Rhea were filled with questions, some she answered, most she didn’t. Truth be told, Solana hasn’t really talked much with anyone regarding what’s been going on within her marriage. She hasn’t wanted to. For a variety of reasons, most of which being the only person she really wanted to speak with was shutting her out.

And, now it seems the roles have reversed.

But, like she said in her text to him, this can’t continue, and it’s not going to get addressed so long as they have the kids to worry about and be mindful of. They both need to get away.

Figure out how this separation is going to work, because Solana doesn’t know a lot of things, but what she does know is that some time apart is clearly what they need.

Whether he wants it or not, and she knows he doesn’t, but perhaps seeing the impact their marital problems have been having on the kids will hopefully help him see her side of things.

Even if just seeing just that impact on said kids just from their issues has her wondering if the separation will do more harm than it will good.

—-------

The drive up to Fetu’s place is eerily similar to the first time she was taken to meet Roman’s late aunt, following an even more eerily similar incident. A misunderstanding, that time.

This time…not so much.

Solana keeps her earbuds plugged in, body angled away from where he sits in the drivers seat. Eyes closed almost the entire time, sleep calls her name, but the discomfort of not being awake and conscious while in such close proximity to him is too much. Theres’s an unease that accompanies this closeted space, like being around him is too much. And, it is. Several times she has to fight back tears from spilling over.

It all hurts so much, and the first few days at the cabin are rough.

He tries to get her to talk, to open up, to actually discuss things.

“Solana…we came here to talk.”

“Please just talk to me. Please.”

“Yell, scream, something, Sol. I need something.”

It goes in one ear and out the other. Pleads met with continued silence. He’s not wrong. She knows he’s not. If not for them, then for the kids, they have to make use of this rare alone time.

She won’t let it go to waste. She can’t. But, it’s utterly difficult to bring herself to it. She can’t even think of it without crying, and she knows he sees it. The way she quickly wipes at her eyes whenever he enters the room she’s in. The same way she sees that flash of hurt that appears in his eyes every time he witnesses the brunt of his betrayal.

The hurt he’s caused.

After multiple failed attempts to initiate conversation, he doesn’t say much to her, and she doesn’t say anything to him. There’s continued attempts, similar to how it was back at the manor, but they’re not home, and she doesn’t have to fake shit for the sake of her babies.

She ignores him. Ignores him the same way he’s ignored her the past few weeks, bordering on months. It’s petty, she knows this, but on top of the mountain of hurt he’s caused her to experience is anger. Anger at him. Anger at herself. Anger at her. Just a tremendous amount, and while she’s never considered herself to be a vindictive person, there’s a small part of Solana that finds joy in knowing she’s not the only one suffering.

Roman’s distress is palpable. She can see and even feel his hurt, but it’s difficult for her to care, even with her selfless ways, when it’s a situation he put himself in.

Put them in.

And, she’s not stupid, she knows that not only did she initiate this sort of “getaway,” but that they only have a number of remaining days to sit down and discuss things. That her children are expecting their parents to return back home the way they’re used to seeing them.

If only she was convinced that’ll be the case.

But, she’s not. Truth is that Solana isn’t sure just how she and Roman get back to where they were.

Or, if they even still can.

She’s sitting out back on the patio, drawing, on the bench where she first sat so many years ago, enjoying the sounds of nature. Embracing the solitude.

While it exists.

Solana doesn’t bother to spare Roman a glance when she hears the backdoor open, nor does she care to lift or redirect her focus from the sketch at hand.

Not that it makes a difference.

“I know you don’t want to speak with me right now,” he starts, and she’d be lying if it didn’t do something to her. Something strange. Something that has her heart feeling heavy all over again. “And, I'll respect that, Solana. But, I just….I need you to look at something for me.”

The pressure applied to the paper intensifies just a bit more at that last part. She doesn’t want to do anything for him.

A far cry from the woman who’s told him countless times over the years just the opposite.

How things can change.

Solana remains focused on her drawing—not really—as he places something beside her, something that has enough weight for her to feel the shift from the padding underneath her. Sparing a glance to the side, not to him, she sees it’s his laptop. A laptop bearing a variety of stickers, most courtesy of their children over the years always wanting to make it look “cool.”

Decorations he never saw to it to remove or even correct them on, because he just enjoyed their wanting to always be involved with him. In any sort of capacity.

It chips away just a bit at some of anger, because she cannot and will not deny what an amazing father he’s always been. The best. She’s always been so in awe of how he is with the kids. The same way she was in awe with how good he’s always been with and to her.

Again, what a switch.

Solana stares at it for a moment, as he clears his throat, voice strained. “Please.”

Another chip. Roman has never been a man to wear his heart on his sleeve or to be openly emotive. Except for with her and the kids, but it started with her. She’s always been the one he’s most open with, so it’s impossible for her to ignore the fact that he’s clearly just as much a mess as she is. Holding it together. Barely.

It…it tugs at her. She’s upset with him, but she doesn’t hate him.

She could never hate him.

Still unable, or maybe unwilling to look at him, Solana simply offers a small nod. Okay.

She doesn’t need to be looking at him to know that has to mean a lot to him. The smallest but more important of wins.

“Thank you.”

Still no acknowledgement. She’s not there yet.

It’s not until he walks back into the house, and Solana hears the sound of the door shutting that she sets aside her pen and sketchbook. Trades it in for the MacBook Pro, settling it in her lap and opening it, partially surprised to see it's no longer password protected.

But, it’s something she can’t think too much about because of what’s on the screen. It’s a video that’s paused, ready to be played. CTV footage. Footage of her.

Of Celeste.

Solana is just about ready to pitch the laptop off the porch, suddenly filled with anger. What the hell is Roman trying to do? It feels like salt on an open would. It feels cruel, and while she knows good and well that Roman is more than capable of that, it’s never been directed towards her.

She closes her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath. While Roman’s behavior and conduct has been….awful, to say the least, he has to have a purpose for wanting her to see this. A purpose that can’t be to make things worse. It has to be for a reason that’s intended to help. How, she’s not sure, but she also knows that at this point, what does she stand to lose?

She hits play.

The footage begins, showing Celeste sitting at her desk, admiring her nails only to abruptly shift in her seat at the entrance of a man.

Roman.

He’s just stepped out of his office, expression hardened, walking past the desk right as Celeste stands up. “Mr. Reigns.” She clears her throat, adjusting that short ass dress of hers. “Can I—”

“Leave me alone.”

Abrupt. Curt. Mean.

Solana would be lying if she tried to deny a flurry of humor flutters within at the way Celeste’s smile quickly collapses into a frown. Embarrassed. She looks embarrassed.

The clip transitions to the same setting. Celeste at her desk, alternating between typing and scrolling on her phone when instead of seeing Roman exit his office, he's instead seen arriving. Flanked by Dwayne and Matteo.

She stands up, flashing that flirty smile. “Gentlemen.”

Dwayne, unsurprisingly, returns the charm, removing the sunglasses from the top of his head. “I like that dress, sweet thing.” Solana rolls her eyes. Even at his big age, Dwayne continues to be the biggest flirt. But, it’s the reaction of her husband that Solana is focused on.

Because there is no reaction.

Roman actually rolls his eyes, Matteo chuckling as once again Celeste tries and fails to capture the attention of the Tribal Chief.

“Mr. Reigns, your meeting got pushed back—”

“I know.” Another clipped response as he doesn’t even look her way, and the three men head into his office space, the sound of Roman mumbling something that sounds a lot like “...annoying” before the door is shut, once again leaving Celeste standing there looking stupid.

And, that’s exactly how the rest of the footage goes. Celeste clearly trying to capture Roman’s attention, and him straight up ignoring, dismissing, or being straight up rude to her in the process.

Solana watches the montage once, and then twice, searching for any and all cues of anything she could have missed. The only thing being the way Celeste transitioned about halfway through from calling Roman “Mr. Reigns” to just calling him Roman.

On the third watch is when she stops it not even halfway through. She slowly closes the laptop, mind racing, running, and and everywhere.

She understands it now. Understands why he wanted her to watch. Beyond that. He wanted her to see for herself the dynamic, the “relationship” that existed between him and Celeste. A “relationship” that, based upon what she’s seen, was simply Celeste trying for her life to snag his attention but failing every time.

It’s…confusing.

Solana is confused, because she knows what she just saw in the videos. But, she also knows what she saw that day. It doesn’t make any sense. How did it go from Roman barely acknowledging that girl’s existence to her being in his lap, straddling him?

Something different stirs within Solana. Something that has her no longer feeling like putting as much distance between herself and her husband. That desire is still there, but it doesn’t outweigh the other thing.

That sudden desire for answers and clarification.

She’s ready to talk.

—-----

“I watched the video.” It’s the first thing she says to him when she walks in the living room. He’s on the sofa, glasses on, iPad in hand. She stands before him, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, gaze even, voice steady. “All of it.”

He says nothing, his eyes never leaving hers as she walks over to sit on the sofa next to him. Not next to him. No, that feels….it feels too soon.

“Every minute,” she whispers, tightening the blanket as he hit the sleep button on the tablet, setting it on the coffee table. Solana shifts her focus to the rug that she can still recall Lina and Leya crawling all over the first time they took them here. The apple juice Tama spilled and waste, as he was too excited for the show he was watching on TV.

Memories.

So many memories.

“Okay.” He sounds unsure, and that’s almost unnerving for her. Solana has never known her husband to be unsure of anything in his life. “What do you—”

“How did you not see it, Roman?” A whispered question. One she’s had since watching the footage. “How…how could you not tell what she was doing? What she wanted?” She shakes her head, emotion rising. “I told you to be careful. I warned you about her, and you didn’t listen.”

Because in the half hour that passed between Solana sitting on the bench and finally deciding to speak with her husband, more thoughts crossed her mind. Like what happened during those times where Celeste entered his office, a place where there were no cameras? Did something happen? It had to have, based on what Solana saw that day.

Then, there’s the fact that she told him. Warned him to be careful. Expressed her discomfort with that girl, and he’d done nothing. A far cry from the man who's always moved heaven and earth for her and their kids. That Roman would have fired Celeste the minute Solana expressed her concerns, which looking back, deep down, Solana realizes that’s what she wanted him to do.

But, he didn’t.

And, she can’t figure out why.

Roman keeps his voice low. “I know.” The quietest acknowledgement. No denial. No justification. Just validation. “Solana, I didn’t…my goal wasn’t to ignore you.”

At that, she scoffs. “That’s all you’ve done, Roman, is ignore me.” She shakes her head, finding her voice after days of overthinking and repressing. “I told you that I didn’t trust her, and you ignored me. I’ve tried to talk with you and—” She stops herself, emotions flooding along with countless previously silenced thoughts. “I’ve felt so lonely lately, Roman.” Beyond lately. For almost two months, Solana has felt this, felt this void in the wake of his distance. “Even when you’re here, you’re somewhere else. Physically present. Mentally elsewhere.” Her voice cracks, anger diminishing with each word that leaves her mouth. “You’ve shut me out.”

He looks at her, voice soft. “Baby—”

She closes her eyes. “I’ve always felt so close to you, but these past two months, I just….” She shakes her head, looking down, playing with her hands, finally voicing what she’s been too scared to say aloud. Afraid it would make it the truth. “I’ve felt like I’ve lost you.” A heartbreaking thing to admit to the man she once thought she couldn’t live without. Still does, in some ways. Solana lifts her head, eyes still closed, as she takes a deep breath. “So, when I opened that door and saw you with her—”

“Solana, nothing happened—”

“I started to blame myself.”

He pauses. “What?”

She opens her eyes, taking him in, taking in this man who’s held her heart for the better part of her life. Who she’s always considered her better half. Who saved her life so many years ago.

The man she loves.

“I—” It’s such a difficult thing to share, to disclose, all of the many anxieties and concerns and thoughts she’s had since and about this whole thing. But, she knows it needs to come out, and if not now, then when? “I started—I started comparing myself to her.”

“Baby—”

“She’s young, and–and she’s beautiful, skinnier than me, and—” Solana blows out a shaky breath. “And, then I started thinking about what kind of wife I’ve been. If I was attentive enough, if I—I forced all this on you.” She gestures around them, shrugging helplessly. “If…having all these children is something I–I pressured you into, and I unintentionally pushed you in her arms–”

“Solana.”

She gasps, eyes shooting open at the feel of his hands on her face. He’s no longer sitting on the sofa but instead on his knees in front of her, cradling her face, eyes burning into her with all the sincerity and honesty. “Solana, I love you. There’s no woman on this fucking earth I could ever want besides you, and don’t you ever fucking say that you pressured me into anything.” He swallows, clearly also feeling all the emotions that flow through her entire body. “I love our kids. The family we have, the family you’ve given me, means more to me than you could ever know.”

Looking at him, really looking at him, for the first time in days, since it all happened…Solana believes him. Believes he’s telling the truth. Similar sentiments he’s expressed to her over the years at various points, but something she needed to hear once more from him.

Needed that reassurance.

But, as helpful as it is, as much as it means to her, it still doesn’t answer one important ass question that she manages to ask him.

“So, how did we get here, Roman?”

Here. At Fetu’s place. At this place in their marriage. At this place in life.

But, instead of continuing to display a necessary vulnerability with her, Solana sees it. Sees the way he’s starting to shut down. “I don’t…” That’s all he can get out, because just like that, the brief spark of hope fades, stomped out by reemerging isolation. He’s separating himself again, and she can’t take it anymore. Solana stands up to leave, unable and unwilling to put up with any more rejection. Because that’s what he’s made her feel lately.

Rejected.

Roman is fast though, standing with her, his body practically pressed against hers, hands on her hips, holding her, keeping her from leaving. Her eyes momentarily flutter. Having him this close to her, the woodsy scent of his cologne invading her senses the same way he invades her private space.

It’s so hard. She’s missed him so much.

Solana manages to lift her eyes to meet his, his gaze pleading an unspoken request.

Please.

Torn and so lost, she ignores the screaming in her head to walk away and leave him be. Doesn’t allow it to dictate her behavior as she instead sits back down on the same sofa. He does the same, next to her.

But, Solana scoots to the other end, placing some distance between them. Something that makes him wince almost but doesn’t prevent him from talking. Something that’s confusing to her as well. How can she both want and not want him at the same time? A cruel, wicked dichotomy indeed.

Roman clears his throat, voice still low. “I don’t want to make this about me.”

An easy thing to respond to. Probably the easiest thing in any of this. “But, it is about you, Roman.” Is her calm counter as she shifts, angling her body toward him, one leg up on the sofa, the other on the ground. “It’s about you. It’s about me. It’s about us. It all ties in together.”

He nods, clearly sitting on her words. His elbows are on his thighs, hands clasped together between slightly spread legs. He’s focused on the same rug that she’d previously used to reflect on the life they’ve worked so hard to build for themselves.

“Do you remember when I took Aroha to that birthday party back in January?” He suddenly asks, forcing her to think back hard. Their kids do so many things, it’s hard to keep up at times. “You couldn’t take her because—”

“I had to work,” Solana finishes for him. She remembers now. “Yes, what…what about it?”

Solana sees the way his jaw flexes, indicating he’s struggling to express himself.

“I was the oldest person at that damn fucking party, and it…it got me thinking…” He trails off, clearly deep and heavy in thought. “I’m 54 years-old, Solana. I’ll be 55 in less than three months.”

She continues to study his side profile, struggling to follow just where he’s going. “Okay…” This is nothing new, nothing that comes as a surprise to her, and he knows this, so why they’re even discussing it is truly confusing her.

“Aroha is five. Five years old.” Solana shifts on the sofa once more, moving to her knees, frown deepening with every pained statement that leaves his mouth. Now…now, she’s starting to understand. “By the time she’s 18 and just graduating high school, I’ll be almost fucking 70 years old.”

Her chest tightens. “Roman…”

He continues, visibly deep in the throes of his distressing concerns regarding the fragility of life. “All I’ve been able to fucking think about is time, all I can think about is time. Time I have left. Time I might not get with her, with them—”

She shakes her head. “Don’t say that—”

“With you.”

Solana grows quiet. She knew something was going on with Roman, just knew it, but she could have never guessed it was this. Nor could she have anticipated how deeply it’s been bothering him. Tormenting him, it almost feels like.

He sits back against the sofa, still not looking at her but continuing to pour out months worth of worries in a matter of minutes. “I spent years being stupid, wasting my time with women who meant nothing to me, whose names I didn’t even know half the damn time, and now that I have you, I have the kids, I have to deal with the consequences of that. The fact that I might not be able to experience so many things because I was too busy being a fucking whore....” He swallows. "I fucking hate it."

She winces at the bitterness that seeps through his deep voice. Bitterness and blame directed inward. A sort of anger that feels almost unfair. It’s all unfair, but the fact that he feels so deeply about this, feels as if he’s to blame for the timeline of their story being the way it is feels wrong to her.

Has her sympathizing for him. Such a stark contrast for everything she’s felt the past few days, longer even, but what she feels, nonetheless. There’s no thought that goes into when she moves closer to him on the sofa, what has her gently cupping his face when he finally looks at her, or has her asking with all the love, “Roman….why….why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Years. For years, they’ve been each other’s biggest support system. Biggest confidants. Safe spaces. So, to know he’s been suffering in silence with what almost sounds like some sort of midlife crisis hurts her. It hurts her a lot. She might have been (is still?) upset with him, hurt especially, but she’d never wish this kind of pain on him.

Walking around everyday wondering and worrying about mortality and time he won’t get to have with their children.

With her.

He closes his eyes, carefully choosing his words.

“Because, you don’t get it, Sol. you’re 10 years younger than me. That makes a difference. It makes a big difference.” He stops, opening his eyes, tone shifting into something softer than the almost edge that took over with his initial answer to her question. “You don’t…you don’t have to worry about these things like I do, and I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

“Roman….” Her voice dips, filled with all of the emotions. “All I’ve done is worry about you.”

About him. About them. His silence may have seemed like protection, but it was really just ammunition. Fuel that drove and sustained the separation between them, maintained the distance and disconnection.

“Solana…” He trails off, and a shaky breath tumbles out of her mouth when he moves his hands to her waist, holding her. “The reason…the only reason I haven’t touched you is because I keep thinking about what if you get pregnant again? Is that just going to be another child of mine that I don't get to experience as much with because of my age?” An unexpected admission but one that answers another of her insecurities with this whole situation. She’d been so scared he hadn’t made love to her because he didn’t want to. Because his attraction to her was no longer there.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

“Roman…” It’s a bit of a difficult task. She doesn’t want to invalidate his feelings, but she also doesn’t want him to continue to torment himself over something that he can’t control. “We can’t control time. The same way you couldn’t control when we met. But, I believe we met exactly when we were supposed. Our children have been born exactly when they were supposed to.” She does. With everything in her. “The same way I believe and know that we’re both going to see them all grow up and be happy and have families of their own someday. All the way from Lina to Aroha.” The faintest hint of a smile, the first she’s had in days, appears on her face. “Well…my money would be on Leya starting that family first, since we both know how Lina is.”

His small chuckle means a lot to her. Same with the way his grip on her waist tightens ever so slightly. “You’re not gonna miss any of it, Ro…” She lifts a hand to gently stroke his beard. “I promise….”

Because Solana cannot and will not accept a future where this all doesn't end exactly as she predicted. They will only close their eyes after seeing the family they created build and create their own future.

“Thank you.” Comes his strained voice. She manages a small smile. He tugs her even closer, their foreheads pressed together.

Solana’s chest is fluttering, a different, both foreign and familiar emotion simmering within, hastening to a boiling point. “Roman…”

An unspoken but known continuation of addressing her insecurities. “It’s not and never will be because I don’t want you,” he vows. I’ve always wanted you, and I always will. I only want you, Solana.”

His mouth hovers over hers, Solana moving her hands to his shoulders. “Ro…”

One locked gaze, and seconds later, his lips are on hers. It’s all feeling and sensation. No thoughts. Just feeling. She doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to worry, doesn’t want any of the things that have been weighing her down. Weighing them both down.

It’s not perfect. It’s not fixed. It’s not even necessarily alright, but right now, she doesn’t care about any of that. This isn’t about that. This is about connection. It’s about togetherness. It’s about being one.

Clothes are shed and bodies repositioned, their mouths only separated in moments of necessity, desire a powerful, blinding emotion consuming both of them.

Synchronized moans at the entrance of him inside of her, Solana’s hands clutching and clawing at his back at the familiar stretch and initial burn. She whines, legs tightening around his hips, craving him. All of him. Every single inch. His body melting and molding into hers. She can’t get close enough, feel close enough. It’s just not enough.

Tears blur her vision, a vulnerable, breathy, “I’ve missed you,” escaping her mouth.

He looks at her, one hand cupping her face, “I know, baby.” Solana whines into his mouth, his hips pressing into hers, driving his dick deeper inside of her, feeding and correcting her every neglected need. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes shut, as he moves his full lips over her eyelids, kissing her tears away. “I’m sorry.”

Solana gasps once more, her head craned back, as he angles his hips upward, finding her spot almost instantly. Her nails dig into his back as his mouth continues to travel her face, placing the softest of kisses that accompany the dutiful thrusts, the melding of their bodies. The becoming of one.

“I’m sorry,” a prayer on his mouth that he can’t seem to cease, remittance and remittance it feels he believes there is no cutoff point for. A level of contrition that penetrates her soul.

Solana clutches him, body to body, chest to chest. One and one. He drives into her with all the dedication and repentance coursing through his big body. And, she takes it all, every bit of it. She’s never been been able to get enough of him, of this, and after so long of going without, she just wants to be and not think.

Just wants to enjoy and savor in this moment.

In the love.

It’s not like most of the time when they make love. He doesn’t turn her over or initiate different positions. Doesn’t prolong it for the rest of the night. They stay like that, face to face, gazes locked almost the entire time, a level of intimacy reserved only for that of the deepest of lovers. Of two who decided long ago that there was no them without one another. A perfect union.

And, when they’re done, when both reach their shared climax, they don’t move. There’s a shift to allow Solana to lay on top of him, her ear to his chest, as he uses her blanket to partially cover them. But, outside of minimal adjustments, no movement. Just gentle caresses of Roman’s finger down the small of her back, Solana’s hands moving across Roman’s chest and abs. Light, loving touches between two lovers.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that. Hours, most likely. Long enough for her to fall asleep and wake up to find him still stroking her back. Solana opens her eyes but doesn’t look up at him, just focuses on the faint outline of the sofa on the other side of the room.

“What happened before I got there, Roman?”

A question entered into the silence, posed to him, an answer she both needs and doesn’t want.

Knowing what she now knows, Solana leans more on the side of nothing horrible happening between them, but Celeste ending up in Roman’s lap is still a story that needs to be told.

Whether she wants to hear it or not.

She feels him sigh loudly before moving into the explanation she’s been dreading since that fateful, awful day.

“They found something when I went in for my mammogram.”

Words that play on repeat in his head. Loud. Quiet. Fast. Slow. Countless variations with a sole impact. Devastation. For a lot of reasons. For the fact that she hadn’t even told him until that point. For the fact that she’s clearly been sitting on this alone until that point. For the fact that this could mean something completely fine or completely life changing. There’s no in between. No wiggle room.

And, he fucking hates it.

Weeks, months, he’s been so in his head, so focused on his own mortality, playing out different hypothetical outcomes. Thinking about life when it’s no longer a thing. When his is no longer a thing.

Not once did it ever cross his mind that she could be dealing or struggling with the same thing.

Roman knows he’s fucked up. He’s not stupid. He recognizes now, at least, how his refusing to open up about his fear of death, growing old, and not being able to see his children grow up and pursue whatever routes they choose in life. He realizes holding in all of this has inadvertently caused problems within his marriage.

That him being too stubborn to be honest with Solana, instead avoiding her and distancing himself from the very person he should have been leaning on, has hurt her.

While she’s already been hurting and dealing with a terrible possibility.

Roman leans back in his chair, focusing on nothing but that damn statement. It’s a complete 180. He couldn’t give two shits about himself at this point. All he can think about is Solana, think about how he should have pushed harder for them to actually talk last night. He understands her being upset with him, she has every right to be. He’d done this. Was 100% to blame. But, that situation is different.

This is her health.

Her life, and nothing means more to him than that.

It’s why he’s had that nagging, burdensome, weight sitting on his chest. For years, his biggest fear has been something happening to his family, to his children, to his wife. Hence why he’s always been so protective of all of them. Worked tirelessly to keep them from any and all danger.

But….this….this is a fight he doesn’t know he would even handle. Doesn’t want to think about having to handle it, because even after all these years, years of hard work in therapy, the thought of something happening to Solana still scares him shitless.

Especially something he can’t protect her from.

“Roman?” There’s a knock at the door. Celine, or whatever her name is. He still hasn’t bothered to learn it. And won’t. He doesn’t even bother to look her way, knowing she most likely has the stock report he’d asked her to get him when he came in this morning. “I have—”

“Leave it on my desk.” A simple command. Not as rude. No, Roman doesn’t really have it in him right now to be that asshole that could drive even a nun to swear. Too much on his plate.

His heart is too heavy for that.

The faint sound of footsteps, her saying something he couldn’t give two shits about. Again, in one ear and out the other. He can’t stop thinking about Solana. About everything that’s happened the past couple months. How they’d gotten to this strange, almost foreign place.

He’s never felt so distant from her, and it’s the worst feeling in the world.

Was. Because one minute, Roman is sitting in his chair, legs spread, forearms rested on the arms of the smooth leather, gaze focused on the intricate design of the carpet in his office, and the next, a complete invasion.

Cecilia is on his lap, legs spread, the scent of her cheap ass perfume borderline nauseating. But, the feeling of nausea is minimal compared to the rage that instantly fills him, that has Roman seconds away from doing something out of character.

Because his first immediate instinct is to snap her neck. To kill her for this shit. And, that’s not like him, a sick and borderline sadistic creature when he has to be, he’s always drawn a line in the sand when it comes to women.

Even more so after being with Solana and learning/seeing the impact of her abuse and trauma. After having daughters himself. He’s never seen himself as a man capable of hurting a woman, not physically, at least.

But, this bitch is trying it.

It takes everything in him to not snap, his hands squeezing the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles are practically white. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The bitch has the nerve to smile, to fucking smile, batting her eyelashes like it’s supposed to do something for him. “You seem….upset.” Her eyes dip to his mouth, Roman completely and utterly revolted as she licks her bottom lip. “Let me help you with that, daddy...”

And the minute she lifts her hand, clearly aiming to touch his crotch is the second he loses all sense of self-control.

Roman doesn’t give two shits if she hits her head and dies on the spot, using all his strength to shove her off and away from him. His face is completely distorted into the deepest scowl, and he’s burning with desire to grab his gun and just off her right then and there.

But, something else.

Something else captures his focus, steals the focus of both of them.

Solana.

“I wasn’t even fucking paying attention to her. I was in my fucking head, and I should have…” Roman trails off, finishing his recalling of what she now is starting to realize, eerily similar to the last time, was an honest to God misunderstanding. “I should have noticed the minute she got that close to me.”

Solana doesn’t necessarily disagree.

“I believe you,” she whispers, feeling him look down at her. Feeling both his relief and surprise at her acknowledgement. “But…” Solana sits up, using the blanket to cover her chest as she looks down at him. “Roman, that only happened because you didn’t listen to me.”

Two truths can exist in the same universe. Roman has been dealing with a lot, which has clouded his judgment, among other things. But, that doesn’t necessarily excuse the fact that his lack of honesty with her carved out a path that led Celeste do what she did. He didn’t set that boundary soon enough, and she wasted no time in exploiting and crossing that.

Solana can both be upset and empathize with her husband. Maybe more than she’d like to admit.

“You’re right,” he agrees, unsurprising to her. Roman lifts his hand to cup her face, repeating for what has to be the hundredth time in the past few hours. “I’m sorry.”

She knows he is.

But, she also knows sometimes….sometimes that’s just not enough.

“Roman…” Solana licks her lips, that feeling of dread filling her all over again. A reluctance that has her just wanting to lay back down against him and succumb to the escape of sleep. But, that solves nothing, and they have no shortage of things that need just that—solving. “I–I think….” A deep breath. “I knew he was attracted to me.” Even in the dark of the room lit only by a small lamp on the side table near the other sofa, she can see it. See his surprise. “I think….I think I liked the attention.”

A stunning, horrible admission but her truth, nonetheless. Because if this situation has caused her to do anything, it’s reflect. Not only on what happened with Roman and Celeste. But, what happened between her and Robert.

The brief conversations. The smiles. The compliments. The flirting. She never reciprocated, never did anything to make him think she felt the same. But, she also never did anything to shut it down, either.

“I think, on some level, I liked….I liked how it made me feel,” she continues, hating the pitting at the bottom of her stomach. “Good. Wanted. All….all things I wasn’t feeling from you.” She swallows, shaking her head. “And, it’s not because I like him. I don’t. I don’t want him. I don’t like him. I love you.” Full, unabridged honesty. “But, the fact that it even got that far, in both of our situations, is a problem.” She gestures between them. “We have a problem.”

Because in all of the years they’ve been together, Solana has never once had that happen with another man. Never enjoyed any time of non-innocent interest from anyone not her husband, and she doesn’t want that to happen again.

It can’t.

“You’re right.” Solana can hear the faintest hint of anger and irritation in his voice, and instantly, she knows why. Knows that it’s directed not at herself, but the doctor she works for. Or, used to work for, because she also has no doubt in mind after he recovers from his injuries sustained in a “random mugging,” he’ll mysteriously be transferred to another hospital out of state.

Way out of state.

“What do you want us to do?” A gentler tone, an honest inquiry. “Just tell me, and I’ll do it.” Roman sits up, moving his hand to her back, pulling her against him. “I’ll do anything to make this right.”

Desperate. He sounds desperate.

Solana thinks about it, palm resting over his chest. “I think we should go to marriage counseling.” An expected suggestion and what feels like the best move at this point. “Just…just to continue to work things out.”

Because as helpful, and maybe even healing, these conversations have been, Solana recognizes they still need more. Recognizes there’s still something within her she needs to work through.

Forgiveness. She needs to find a way to fully forgive him, something that she’ll tackle with Gail, but also something they need to tackle together, as a couple.

“Okay.” He agrees, rubbing small circles at the base of her back. “Let’s do it.” Truth be told, Solana didn’t have much doubt in her that he would agree to it. They’ve both done individual therapy for years now, and she knows he sees the benefit. She also knows he means it when he says he’ll do anything to make their marriage work.

She believes him.

“Solana…” A shift, a change even in his facial expression. “We need to talk about—”

And just like that, she’s shaking her head. She knows exactly what he’s about to say. “Not…not right now.”

His frown deepens. “Sweetheart—”

“I know we do, and we will.” Because avoiding things is how they got into this situation, but the fact that just the thought of talking about that right now has her chest tightening, skin warming, tells Solana that she just can’t handle it right now. “Just…not right now…please?”

His disagreement is visible, but he nods quietly, offering no protest as she goes to lay them back down, inching closer to him, holding onto him and closing her eyes.

They still have things to work through. A lot to figure out.

The potential C word conversation to have and handle right now, but in this moment, she doesn’t want to think about any of that.

Right now, she just wants to enjoy her husband.

—--------

The adjustment to being back home goes smoother than Solana anticipated. She’s not sure what exactly she was expecting, but what she received is not something she will complain about. Overt enjoyment from her children at their parents being home, the big, warm hug from her youngest who commented with the biggest smile on her face, looking at both herself and Roman.

“You’re happy again.”

Right there, in that moment, Aroha couldn’t have been more right.

Solana can’t say that she feels all the way better in the days following their return home. She definitely feels better than she was feeling before they left. Felt even more relieved when she and Roman sat the kids down and reassured him that they were working things out and were not planning to separate or divorce.

A sense of relief that helps her as well.

It’s a strange thing, how she went from seriously contemplating asking Roman to leave the house for a while to looking up marriage counselors for them, welcoming him back in their bedroom, him sleeping next to her. Him attending the follow up testing with her.

That….that has been at the forefront of her mind. Test being done two days prior, Solana knows she’s in the window for a callback and her results to be uploaded to MyChart.

She does her best to keep herself busy, mostly with the foundation, as going back to work at the hospital feels….too soon. She just needs some time away from that.

But, in the meantime, catching up on things around the house, handling foundation business, gradually re-entering herself back into her friend and family group have been the focus. The best things for her to focus on.

She's in the middle of gathering the laundry from her kids bedrooms, chuckling when she finds Coco lounging on the bed in Aroha’s room.

“Hey, girl,” she greets, petting the dog’s head when music fills the room. Familiar. Her ringtone.

Solana is quick to grab her phone out of her back pocket but slow when she sees the familiar number light up her screen.

The number of her doctor’s office.

A nervous glance at Coco who remains oblivious to what this could mean. Solana’s eyes shut.

Here goes nothing.

Sitting on the edge of her baby daughter’s bed, Solana sends a quiet prayer to the man upstairs and hits the green button.

“Hello?”

—--------

Roman was in the middle of a meeting when he noticed his phone light up. A phone that had always sat on the table, screen up, regardless of what he was doing.

It was something he’d drifted away from over the past two months due to his internal struggles but something he has no intentions on changing ever again.

But, it’s when he sees it, that the meeting comes to a premature ending. For him, at least. He leaves Dwayne and Matteo to handle the rest of it, because he has something more important to tend to.

Much more important.

The drive from Bloodline Headquarters to the Reigns Manor feels like it takes longer than it ever has before. The driver too slow, too many cars on the road, too much interference keeping him from his destination.

From her.

The minute they pull up, Roman is out of the SUV, jogging into the house, calling her name, searching, looking for her in all of her most frequented locations. The kitchen. The laundry room. Her art room. But, where he finds her is unexpected.

Roman stands outside of Solana’s walk-in closet, paused by the sight before him. She’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by the clear containers containing years worth of family photos, many of them spread across the carpet, almost entirely obstructing a clear path for him to her.

Her, his wife, who's in the middle of it all, smiling at whatever polaroid she has in hand.

“Solana…”

She looks up, and her smile deepens just a bit, but he sees it. Sees something in her eyes. Something unsettling and boiling over. Something building by the second.

“Do you remember this day?” She flips the photo, revealing a smiling photo of their oldest three kids when they were younger. “It was from one of their first Disney trips.” Solana chuckles, flipping it back over to continue admiring. “They were so happy…”

Though sensing something unsettling, Roman won’t invalidate her. He’s done more than enough of that to last a lifetime lately. “Lina and Tama kept wanting to talk to everyone…”

She giggles, shaking her head. “Meanwhile, Leya was too shy, which was why we kept having to initiate talking to the characters for her.”

A quick chuckle kept within. That’s one of those memories that will always stay with him. They all will.

Solana grabs another photo. “Oh my gosh, this was the boys’ first birthday party.” Again, she shares the photo with Roman who’s managed to make his way through the sea of memories, kneeling near her. “They were so irritated with us.” She hands him the photo of Koa and Kai, sure enough, scowling while being held by their parents, surrounded by people.

Another internal chuckle. His twin boys have always been just like him with their antisocial ways, even from a young age.

Clearly.

But, that’s not the focus at hand.

Something else is.

Something that had her text him while he was at work. Three simple words.

i need you.

“Look at Aria,” Solana awes, looking at a photo of Samaria at what Roman would guess was after one of her recitals. “She was so proud of herself that night…”

Attention on the polaroid is brief, as Roman’s frown deepens, sensing the slightest shift in Solana’s voice. “Baby…what’s going—”

“Roro….” He’s cut off by Solana grabbing another photo, this time of their youngest. A glance reveals it’s from only a few months ago. Christmas morning. Her smiling bright while holding up one of her gifts, a stuffed monkey dressed in a pink tutu. “She’s five…”

Roman looks back at his wife, seeing her smile gradually dimming with each stroke of her finger across Aroha’s face. “She’s…she’s only five.”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“You know I….I spent so many years not wanting to be alive.” Such a dark, sudden switch that has Roman taken back. Something that doesn’t happen often. If ever. “Tried to kill myself, even. Twice.” A bitter, humorless laugh, as she sniffles. “And then, it all changed.” She lifts her eyes to him. “I met you, and everything changed.” Emotion builds, her bottom lip trembling, the stammering returning. “We—we built this life together. This—this family. Our—our kids. My—my babies. Aroha is only—she’s only five, Roman.”

He sees it, sees the way her breathing is shifting, infrequent, difficult. A panic attack. She’s about to have a panic attack. “Baby, look at me. I need you to breathe,” he guides, placing his hands on her face, forcing her to look at him. “Breathe for me.”

The distant sound of the washing machine going off somehow snags her attention, Solana’s eyes widening, her mouth trembling. “That’s—that’s the laundry. I have—I have—to get it done.”

A gentle reassurance. “Don’t worry about that right now, baby.”

“No,” she objects, shaking her head, breaking away from him. “I have—I have to do it.”

He stands with her, blocking her, recognizing what’s happening and knowing the last thing she needs right now is to be concerned with that. “Sol, that’s—”

“I have to!” She shouts, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I have to get the laundry done before the kids get home from school, because I have to help Tama with his English homework, and—and Lina likes to recap her day with me.”

His chest tightens. “Sol—”

“And, and I like to ask Leya how her day was and make sure she’s not struggling with her OCD—”

“And, Koa and Kai love when I bake cookies when they get home. And, Roro—” Her voice cracks, the facade crumbling. “She loves to hug me and tell me she missed me as soon as she gets in the door.”

“Solana…”

“I—I have things to do, Roman. I have—I have so many things to still do. I don’t—” A crushing realization, cumbersome and devastating, overpowering whatever hold she had on her emotions. “I’m not ready to go yet.”

Words he’d never thought or wanted to hear from her. Not…not in this context. Never in this context.

A sound. A broken gasp. A strangled cry. Roman catches her the minute he sees her body about to collapse to the floor, is down on his knees, holding her as she wails into his chest.

“I don’t want to die.” A repeated plea for mercy and strength as her fingers grasp his shirt, her face buried into his chest, body almost trembling from the strength of her sobs. “I don’t want to die.”

Roman says nothing, just continues to hold and comfort her, wanting more than anything to have the right words to make her feel better, to take away her pain, but nonverbal comfort is the only thing he has to offer her in this moment. It’s the only thing he has to offer, because he finds himself also struggling. Struggling to keep his own composure, a necessity given how she’s breaking down before him.

Struggling to grasp what’s happened, because despite her not saying it, he knows exactly what’s happened.

There’s only one thing that could evoke this type of visceral, emotional response from his wife.

Her test results came back positive.

Solana has cancer.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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satanxklaus · 10 months ago

Text

♥︎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | charles leclerc x reader smau

✦ pairing : charles leclerc x fem!wife!reader ✦ summary : in which charles is a proud soccer dad and he got too enthusiastic during his daughter soccer match ✦ content warning : use of yn, badly translated french, attempted humor, crack fic ✦ faceclaim : girlies from pinterest

a/n: henlo !!1! idk why but i just feel like charles would be that type of soccer dad who gets too competitive and heated for no reason. had this idea randomly popped in my head while i was at work lol. lemme know what u think! enjoy~ (requests are open)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, pascale.leclerc.355, scuderiaferrari and 187,937 more.

yninstagram not to be that soccer mom, but look!! fleur's already a star player!! xx

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charles_leclerc ✓ ma fille! ma fierté et ma joie, regarde-la!! (my daughter! my pride and joy, look at her!!)

❤️liked by yninstagram

user1 fleur is not even my kid but im crying,, shes so cute in her little soccer jersey 🥹

user4 wow the talent in sports must run deep in the family

❤️liked by charles_leclerc ✓

scuderiaferrari ✓ Fleur Leclerc for the next AS Monaco Football Féminin's star player 🙌🙌

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text messages

*time skip to thursday*

charles_leclerc posted a story

user7 replied to your story ⤷ shes growing up so fast

maxverstappen1 ✓ replied to your story ⤷ thankfully you're not the one playing ⤷ one leclerc that can actually play football 😂 ⤷ charles_leclerc ✓ bro get off my page fr

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twitter

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charles_leclerc

liked by pascale.leclerc.355, yninstagram, maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 2,454,387 more.

charles_leclerc ✓ the sport genes truly does run in the leclerc family 😏😉 so so proud of my fleur, you will always be my number one champion 🫶🏻

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maxverstappen1 ✓ yes she gets the genes from yn. certainly not from you 😂😂

⤷ charles_leclerc ✓ you do not want to play that game with me, mate. ⤷ maxverstappen1 ✓ is that a threat??? hello?? ⤷ user6 😭😭 soccer dad charles is not playing any games w anyone

user8 yall saw that vid of charles beefing with a 5 year old over a damn soccer game?? LOL

⤷ user34 he was serious abt it too LMAOO

yninstagram CHARLES LECLERC PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE

⤷ charles_leclerc ✓ oh no we gotta go.. 🏃‍♂️💨💨 ⤷ user34 nahh aint no way ur getting away with it bruh 😭

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text messages

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insta

charles_leclerc ✓

liked by yninstagram, pascale.leclerc.355 maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 4,769,387 more.

charles_leclerc ✓ in all seriousness, i apologize for the misunderstandings i have caused and the video that has been circulating around on the web. after hours and hours of apologizing to my beautiful wife (im forgiven thank god), i just wanted to say that my fleur and yn are both the greatest gift i've ever received in my life, no championships can ever compare. Papa sera toujours fier de vous deux et sera votre plus grand fan jusqu'à la fin des temps. (daddy will always be proud of you both and will be your biggest fan till the end of time)❤️❤️

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yninstagram je t'aime, mon monde entier 😘🩷 (i love you, my whole world)

⤷ yninstagram papa, je t'aime mais s'il te plaît, ne viens pas au prochain match de football - fleur xx 🩷 (daddy, I love you but please don't come to the next football game) ⤷ pascale.leclerc.355 les amours de ma vie 😂❤️ ⤷ charles_leclerc ✓ 😭😭pleurer et dormir sur le trottoir ce soir (crying and sleeping on the curbside tonight)

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⚠ 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 ⚠ : 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part V

1 2 3 4 5 6

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

This chapter can be read as a one-shot without having to read the whole story! :)

"Are you staying for Christmas?" You ask casually, decorating the cookies you baked with Simon's help. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully in her crib, a small Santa Claus onesie on her, preparing her for the celebration even when there's still a few hours left.

"You want me to?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, brown eyes fully focused on decorating the head of one of the cookie figures, steady hand drawing a skull pattern with ease.

"It's her first Christmas, I think she'd like having her father around." I want you around as well. He's lucky you're focused on decorating your cookies, missing the way his face lights up with a proud smile. It's a lot of progress.

''Right. I got you both some presents in the car.'' He washes his hands on the sink, giving his daughter one last look before leaving the house, trying to gather as many of the gifts he bought as possible. ''Some presents'' was clearly an understatement— he has been building a pile of gifts for months, his car full of boxes and bags for both you and your little girl.

''Jesus Christ.'' You wash your hands and go help him as you see him struggling to carry the pile, taking some from him and putting them under the Christmas tree.

''There's more in the car.'' He seems almost sheepish as he confesses, giving him a small pat on the arm as you go outside to help him. You almost laugh as you look inside, the entire backseat full of presents. It's almost ridiculous, yet so charming how much he wants to make both of you happy, knowing how much it the holidays mean to you, especially now that you have a daughter.

''Isn't this... a bit overkill?'' You joke, earning you a playful pat on the ass now that your arms are busy. You miss the kick thrown his way, jogging after him with a smile when he playfully gets on the other side of the couch to avoid you getting revenge.

''I still got one more present coming, but that's for later.'' He walks back to the kitchen once he made sure you weren't going to kill him for patting your ass.

''I swear to God, Simon, if it's another d—'' He interrupts you by smearing frosting on your cheek, shooting you a cheeky smile that gets erased the moment you do it back— smearing way more than you should have all over his cheek.

''Bastard.''

Your baby was up by the time it was midnight, excited to see her mum and dad opening up presents and even joining in, tiny hands clearly struggling with the wrapping paper, yet somehow managing without help.

''Strong girl, like her mum.'' You smile softly at his words, looking at the way your daughter stares curiously at one of her last presents; a cactus activated by sound.

''Say 'hello'.'' Simon says, getting closer to the toy until it activates, dancing around and lighting up. Astrid looks confused as she looks at it, brown eyes looking up at you before looking back at the toy.

''Hello.'' He repeats, a warm smile on his lips when the toy starts dancing again, much to your daughter's confusion. She babbles at it, tiny hands reaching out to touch it once it starts moving and playing back her sounds, giggles escaping her lips as the toy imitates her laugh.

Simon's phone vibrates in his pocket, getting up from the couch before looking down at his phone with twinkling eyes.

''My mate's here, I'll be right back.'' He doesn't wait for you to reply, already out of the house before you can even say anything. Your focus is back to your daughter, happy that she enjoys playing with the toy rather than being scared of it like you've seen in videos online. Brave girl she is, not a single lick of fear in her.

Simon comes back a minute later, holding a big German Shepherd that can definitely walk on its own. You give him a questioning look as he sets it on the floor, holding his collar just in case.

''Absolutely not.'' You try to protest, yet your gaze softens when you see Astrid crawl to the dog.

''Wa-wa!'' She points out, tiny hands reaching up to pet the dog the same way you've taught her, gentle. The dog doesn't react much besides laying down on the floor for your daughter to pet it, making it much easier for her.

''His name's Riley, he's a retired K-9. Look, I'll pay for his food and even for someone to come take care of him when I'm not here, I just... want you to be safe.'' There's hints of pleading on his tone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

''... I'll take care of him.'' You say with a small sigh, knowing Simon wants nothing else than for both of his girls to be safe, especially when he's deployed.

''We gave him extra training to deal with kids and emergencies. Big geezer's patient and good.'' He keeps trying to sell it as if you didn't say yes already, a small giggle escaping your lips before giving him a reassuring smile.

''We'll keep him, don't worry.'' You crouch down to pet the dog, who is clearly enjoying the attention from your daughter, allowing her to rest on his side while petting his head.

There's a smile on his face as he looks down at his family, hands fumbling with the small box in his pocket.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

taglist: @skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf @yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko @cloufie @killergoddess97 @imaracoon @thepurpleaccount @silas-222 @actuallyhiswife @havoc973 @catkatchuck @preeyansha

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daydreamer-in-training · 6 months ago

Text

✨OP Advent Calendar Masterlist✨

Door 6 - Under the Mistletoe Part 1

Eustass Kid x reader

Word count: 1.500+

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (NSFW)

Themes: fluff; kisses; a tiny bit steamy at the end; Is Kid in denial or just an Idiot ? Who knows?! It's the Kid Pirates so : foule language; Bit angsty at the end If you squint, but there will be a Part two on another day so its okay; hight difference

Notes: This wasn't supposed to be this long! 😄And I haven't been able to sleep much the past three nights, this also took me until midnight as well. But Hope that makes Up for Yesterday 🥺✨ Have a wonderful day everyone! This is also for @fanaticsnail to turn her frown upside down 🫂

Please Note that Englisch is Not my first languages and i am tired when uploading ✨

Advent Calendar Taglist: @jintaka-hane @chibinasuu @stuckinmymind22 @eustasscapitankid @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece

The Christmas Chaos was evident on the Victoria Punk. Glitter, twinkle lights, and cosiness stood in stark contrast to the usual decor on the Victoria Punk. Bubblegum and Killer pestered Kid about decorating for their annual Christmas Event days before it happened until he gave his okay.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, but leave me alone already!“

Then the two went ham and a few hours later, it looked as if Christmas had thrown up on the Ship.

It took Kid a moment to get used to it. When he entered his chamber, everything was normal, but when he had woken up a few hours later from his nap and opened the door, he was blinded by fairy lights.

Bubblegum in particular was fond of Mistletoes and the tradition surrounding it, so they hung them up everywhere. They had so much fun, smooching everyone when they got the chance.

The crew memorized the locations where the Misteltoes would be and avoided them. Everyone became very good at taking the long way to the kitchen.

As did Kid, he had just woken up from his midday nap. He did the night watch all week -due to a bet he lost against Wire- and so he slept during the day. Still in his sleeping pans, he jawed and scratched his belly, he could already smell the coffee Killer was brewing in the kitchen.

Tired and deep in thought, he didn't notice that you were sneaking up on him.

“Hey, Captain?” Before he even realised what was going on, you had already stood on your tiptoes and given him a playful kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Puzzled and dumbfounded, he looked down at you, his amber eyes wide with shock. The stark contrast to his usual frown made you giggle. You didn‘t know his eyes were able to be that round.

“Look, up there,“ he followed your finger with his eyes up to the ceiling where a Mistletoe was hanging. Before he could say anything back, you were already gone with a ‘see you later at the night watch!’

Bubblegum! He moved the mistletoe somewhere else, the arse.

Kid slowly lifted his fingers to his lips, where your brief kiss still lingered as a tingling sensation as he watched you bounce away with glee.

“Oh wow… That was your chance, but all you did was stand there like a statue“ The Captain didn’t even have to turn around and see, to know the wide grin Wire had on his stupid face right now.

Kid clenched his fist and huffed “Shut-“ Wires grin became wider “-ta fuck-“ The taller man took a slow step back now, chuckling as his old friend turned around and stared daggers into his body „UP!“

Laughter from Killer came from the kitchen.

As the redhead finally entered his destination, he was greeted by a Mug of coffee from his first mate and plopped his buttocks onto the bench in the corner and drank it in fuming silence.

The two commanders exchanged knowing looks - if one can call it that with Killer mask and all. They both had already noticed the soft spot the captain had for you. They noticed long before Kid did. That poor fella is still in denial, but the red hue his ear had become since you kissed him, would beg to differ.

The three commanders had made up a plan, starting with Heat transferring his night watch tonight to you. He was your superior and you wouldn‘t question it. The Mistletoe incident was a lucky coincidence just now.

Wire and Killer went after their usual business, Wire taking a seat as well and opening the newspaper and Killer was making some Eggnog for everyone.

“So… you gonna have night shift with them tonight, did I hear right?“, the first mate said nonchalantly as he stirred his ingredients together. Behind his newspaper, Wire peered over to Kid, who seemingly short-circuited. “What?!“ he grunted, coughing up his coffee.

It was all your fault! Why did you have to be so incredibly cute, so gentle and at the same time so quick-witted and competent? Eustass Kid would never have reacted so stupidly when you kissed him in the fist place if you hadn't always treated him so gentle and understanding.

He was about to give you a piece of his mind. Kid was already way too late, but he was also captain so he could get away with it. Still loaded, he trudged up the stairs to the lookout.

But when he saw you standing there, leaning against the railing, watching the stars, his anger was briefly blown away. His gaze travelled over your body and lingered on your lips. Those plush and soft lips.

And then he remembered why he was upset.

You snapped to attention when you heard his footsteps stop and looked towards him.

“Hey Captain… good evening! The stars are so pretty tonight!“ the soft smile on your face turned into an expression of shook when you noticed his angry scowl.

No, you are so pretty tonight! Is what he almost blurted out.

“And what do ya think ya doing?! Ya think its okay ta just kiss ya captain when he lets his guard down!?“

He bridged the distance between you with long strides faster than you had expected. You stumbled back and realised that the wall behind you was much closer than you thought. You didn't see anger coming as his reaction. Especially not after Wire had talked you into it.

Kid slammed his hands on the wall to either side of your face, which made you flinch.

“Kid- Captain I m-mean“ you blinked up to him, now caged between the wall and the broad figure, that was Eustass Kid, not finding the words to explain yourself properly.

Afraid to look him in the eye, you scrunch yours shut.“I- I overstepped-“ fear that you had ruined your relationship with him collected itself in the pit of your stomach.

“Ya didn’t. Now shut up an‘ look at me…“ his quiet and hoarse voice near your face made you open your eyes slowly. He was so close to your face now, your noses almost touched. “I‘m the captain… I‘m the one that initiates things…“, your eyelashes fluttered as he gently caressed your face with his right hand to tilt it up to him. „I call the shots, aye?“, he whispered into your cheek.

You nodded slightly and turned your face invitingly towards him. He had been longing to hold your smaller body in his arms for a long time. Kid's feelings for you were finally spilling over and he allowed himself to take a little piece of you.

Hungrily, he pressed you against the wall and pressed his lips to yours, a satisfied growl escaping his lips. You let him take control, you had no other choice as he devoured your lips with passion. Your hands found his broad shoulders and held on tightly.

Briefly gasping for air, he released the kiss and your fiery eyes met. He wanted more, now that he was allowing himself to show his feelings for you.

His eyes darted back and forth between yours, searching for an answer to his silent question. With the usual gentleness in your eyes, you slide your hand down his neck to bring him back towards you.

And so his lips met yours with more hunger than ever before. Kid slipped his tongue into your mouth, dominating the kiss completely as he lifted you up. Both of your legs wrapped around his hips, seeking support. While his metal arm held you up with ease, he ran his other arm up your thighs.

After what felt like an eternity, he broke off the heated kiss, not without pulling slightly on your lower lip. You looked into each other's eyes, both gasping for breath, a thousand questions arising in this moment and neither of you finding the words to express them.

You lovingly took his face in your hands and placed a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

He sighed softly and unintentionally at your loving gesture. And the Kid was reminded that he was your captain, your superior. And that what he was doing here was not okay. At least he thought so.

You wouldn't think Eustass Kid ever had any scruples when it came to lust. But he cared about his crew, he fucking cared about you. You're like family and there was no way he was going to jeopardise that.

So he carefully put you back on the ground. You looked up at him in confusion, which gave his heart a twinge. He leant down to you and placed a kiss on your forehead. ‘Night watch is over, go to sleep.’ he whispered into your hairline. Then he turned and left the lookout without looking back. If he had still seen the hurt and confused look on your face, he probably wouldn't have been able to leave you behind.

You really hadn't expected this result when you gave the Kid a kiss under the mistletoe.

#eustass kid #op kid #one piece x reader #captain kid x reader #kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #OP Advent Calendar 24 #Cocos Christmas

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peachway · 6 months ago

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the perfect sunrise · CL16

✦ characters - fem!reader x charles leclerc ✦ warnings - fluffy fluffff, suggestive, google translated french, so let me know if i have done any mistakes :) ✦ word count - 1.2k ✦ summary - Charles forgets your birthday so to make it up for it he kidnaps you to see the most beautiful sunrise.

A/N - The written birthday note here is from pinterest and is highlighted in italics. The pictures are curated from pinterest. happy reading ✨

Third Person’s POV -

You were currently in the hotel room. Alone. The silence and the ticking clock were killing you. You glance up to see the time.

“You’re late” you mumbled seeing it was already 12:44 AM.

It was your birthday. You thought you'd be surrounded by your loved ones and your boyfriend, celebrating like crazy till morning, but it was quite the opposite. You already had tons of wishes from everybody. Except for him. Did he forget? no it's wasn't possible. But as the time went by, it got very obvious. He indeed forget your birthday.

It was obvious to feel hurt. You weren't angry, but just kind of disappointed. You understand how demanding his career is but you had hoped, at the very least, that he would've remembered the day.

The distance between you—the hours spent in different time zones, the constant travel has already made the relationship a challenge.

At first you thought he was just pretending. It was the last race of the season so you thought maybe it must have slipped his mind or something. It was not at all possible that he had forgotten your day. But the fact that it was almost 1:40 in the night and he was still out somewhere you don't even know?

You had already dozed off on the couch waiting for him. When he was coming back to you, he ran into Pierre in the hotel lobby.

'Hey mate!' Charles gives a little nod.

'Oh hey! good i found you here. I was going to call you.." he says.

"Is y/n still up? because Kika wanted to give her a little surprise and she didn't pick up her phone so.."

"I actually don't know, I had gone out so... i'll call you." Charles nodded.

"You were out alone?" he asked.

"Yes?" he nodded.

"You do know what is today right?" Pierre asked again.

"Yeah, a Wednesday. What's the matter why are you asking so many questions?" Charles retorted.

"Mon Dieu Charles!! it's her birthday!" Pierre said with gritted teeth.

Then it finally clicked him.

“OH NO”

“TODAY'S DATE” His stomach drops as realisation took hold of him. It's not just any day—it's your day!

“Super travail d'oublier l'anniversaire de ta copine! idiot." he cursed himself. [Great job forgetting your girlfriend's birthday! idiot.]

“How the hell did i forget that.. I'm sorry I-” he shook his head to Pierre.

“It's okay mate. Don't worry about us. Good luck!" he patted his shoulder.

“Hoping you'll still be alive for the race tomorrow.” Pierre smiles and walks away.

In the fast-paced world of Formula One, he'd somehow lost track of one of the most important date. In the face of his mistake, he knows that mere words and gifts won't fix it. He has to do something meaningful.

You were still sleeping when he picked you up in his arms and carried you away from the hotel room to the car. You did wake up in the middle and saw the harbour. But you brushed it off thinking it was a dream. You clutched on tight to Charles and went back to sleep.

It was very early and with all those planning and preparations Charles fell asleep too. His eyes flew open abruptly after some time.

When it was almost 6:40 he gently rubs your shoulder to wake you up.

"Hey." "Amour, wake up." he cooed.

You responded in a little hm, not waking up fully. You wanted to sleep more.

"Y/n" he calls again.

When you didn't answer he started peppering kisses all over your face and neck. This time you did wake up feeling his soft lips against your skin.

"Charlie!" you giggled.

"Amour." he replied, his face still buried in your neck.

"It's almost time." he added.

"Time for what?" you ask, opening your eyes as you hear ripples of waves around you.

Instead of the white ceiling of your room you see the almost golden sky. You jolted up in thrill. You were in the ocean. Like literally in the ocean?

You look over the sea and see strokes of deep orange, pink, and golden yellow shade glooming over in the sky. The sky was lit and the sun was peeking out from the horizon. You could hear the sharp calls of black headed gulls from a distance followed by some other waders and seashore birds. It was so blissful. You look at Charles who was admiring the view before him. His perfect face looked more beautiful in the golden glow of the sun. His blue eyes were the deep ocean you'd want to drown into. You couldn't have awakened to something better on your birthday than this.

"You like it?" he asked.

"It's so gorgeous." you smile looking over at the ocean.

"happy birthday my love." Charles whispered in your ear.

"I thought you forgot. But you had this planned? This is the best surprise i can get. Thank you Charles."

"Cherié I..." he starts but doesn't continue.

"Yes?" you said.

"I am a horrible horrible boyfriend. You see... I um did forget your birthday." he said.

You didn't reply back but isn't just pulled his face and gave him a soft kiss, gesturing that you accepted his apology.

"Normally i would get flowers or your favourite cupcakes but it's very early so i'll start with this.." he says pulling a little piece of paper beside him.

It had small hand drawn flowers all over it with a little note that said,

"yesterday, i loved you. today, i love you. tomorrow, i will love you. next week, i will love you. in june, i will love you. on september 5th, i will love you. when i get home, i will love you. next year, i will love you. in five years, i will love you. for the rest of my life, i will love you.

happy birthday belle!"

"I'm not much of an artist but i tried!" he chuckled awkwardly, slightly embarrassed seeing his messy watercolour flowers on the card.

"It's so perfect!" you said, tears forming in your eyes.

"Hey! no crying on your birthday come on!" he said pulling you in his arms.

"Well it's not a birthday if you don't cry." you chuckled.

"Yeah not today, cherié. I have so much planned that you won't have any time to cry." he said.

"Can we please stay a bit more here?" you asked.

"Of course whatever you like!" he says stroking your hair.

"Your voice is so damn sexy. It makes me want to go down on my knees." you said, your head still buried in his neck.

"Whoa hey that escalated!..not that I'm complaining!" he chuckled.

"But it's your birthday so, i'll take care of you my pretty girl." he added.

"No! me first!" you protested climbing up on lap.

"This is so perfect. Thank you Charles." you said kissing his lower lip.

At the end of the day, it's not just the perfect race win or the fastest lap that matters alone but being with you, after every good or bad race — it mattered him the most. Coming back to you in your arms mattered the most. You were his home and he was yours.

#charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #izzy’sFS

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potatoplace · 7 months ago

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So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just… Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It’s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

“Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

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#so long london #betty #the 1 #azriel x archeron!reader #azriel x reader #az x reader #azriel x reader angst #az x reader angst #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #archeron!reader #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #tato writes

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