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#she deserved so much better than what the show gave her
carefulfears · 1 month
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what do you consider the heart of californication? like really carries through the series & makes it compelling
thank you for this question, i really love it. to me, it's a number of things, starting with that the show cares deeply about hank and takes him seriously in a way that the culture doesn't. in a way, yes, he's their dog and pony show with the funny one-liners and the salacious pull. but the arc of the series is unequivocally aligned with him and his desires and his needs and his values.
hank wants to be with his family, wants to be better for them, wants to not let them down- and the show needs him to fail at all of those things. for the dog and pony of it all, for their viewership and for their thesis and for the food in their mouths, but it simultaneously feels bad that he is failing. simultaneously knows that this isn't what he wants, and that it's sad. and it can be as simple as a dream sequence or a look or a quiet final scene, but every single episode is ultimately going to remind you that everything you're laughing at is a loss.
which, like i said at the top, speaks to a level of respect that the show had for the character that is just gone in discussions of the series. they take the time to recognize that he is missing something. he is losing something and he is without everything that means anything to him, this is the cost. equally important, duchovny respects that character and understands the same.
i was listening to an interview last night (trish you heard this) where he was speaking with some podcast dudebros and one of the hosts said that he always wanted to be just like hank moody, and then he made some "bad decisions" and got there, and he doesn't like it. and duchovny said that every time people come up to him saying "i'm just like hank moody," he says "i'm sorry."
men watch and they want to be just like hank moody and women watch and they want to fuck hank moody so bad, and all of you miss what the source comprehends: that it's an irreparable deficit.
other than that, i feel like what roots that show is that it really isn't all that cynical. not in the way that it could be. and the show believes in hank.
there is a lot of kindness and hope (often false hope) that runs underneath most every relationship and interaction and dynamic in the series and i really really appreciate that about it. it's like in the pilot when hank is being mean and he wants marcy to yell at him and she just says "go home, honey. sleep it off. tomorrow's another day."
there's always a little bit of understanding and grace amongst the crazies and i think there's something really special about that
#gave up on this <3 you're gonna pick up what i put down. i trust#people on this show love each other. that's the heart of californication#at the end of s3 when one of the women that hank had slept with (felicia) says 'it's all done with great affection' about#them dragging him to HELLLLLLL all day lol#'come here. be happy in new york.'#and she goes back in to her husband. happy and laughing#that's just one of my favorite scenes because everyone on the show wants the best for each other#and it isn't just people being lenient and softer than deserved with hank#he is extremely loving to family/friends/random women#and all of the characters are so good and thoughtful to each other#it's nice in a way that stands out in a sardonic comedy that's reduced to 'tits and ass'#there is so much compassion and care cycling through everybody#that's what carries the series for ME. and i don't think i could really explain it further#even random scenes like lew ashby coming into the bathroom to talk to becca when she's sobbing and won't let her mom in#there isn't any reason for him to do that. it isn't because he wants to fuck karen. it isn't because he's a particularly charitable person.#it's because it's his buddy's kid and he wants her to feel better#i don't think there's a character on the show who wouldn't do that for bec or for the core 4 or for mia#but anyway i know what you mean and i think those things are mainly what grounds it#that it's ultimately compassionate and that it respects its lead#californication
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okurrroye · 2 years
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Sooo instead of having Jonah be with who he actually belongs and should be in love with and clearly backed up by Chava’s speech of what it means to truly love someone (and it’s exactly what he did) they really forced this random and pointless ass relationship with Clara instead..?? Yeah ok
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agendabymooner · 5 months
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SOMETHING REWARDED !!! LANDO N. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: at the night of his first win, lando gave his sweet girl a reward for being his ‘lucky charm.’
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), miami gp 2024 spoilers (ish), standard smut, anal play if you blink, praise kink, titfucking, body worship-esque
note: this could’ve been published an hour after the race but i got busy. it didn’t eat as much but enjoy xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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lando’s partner wasn’t shy. she was just… reserved in the sweetest way possible. that’s what he loved about her. no amount of words could express how beautiful she was. her curves, her lips, her everything? 
god lando was fucking in love with her.
anyone in miami might assume that she was feeling hot due to the sweltering weather. sure. 
but lando knew the difference between the heat in her face when she’s under the sunny weather and when he whispers praises in her ears.
and he certainly knew what the heat rising in her cheeks meant when he had his hand between her thighs.
“lando…” she murmured softly, her face becoming hotter by than it was as lando hovered over her, “i- i-“
“shh…” lando tutted her with a smirk, “‘s okay, darling. ‘s just us.”
“i know,” she whispered back, “b- but you’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”
“i told the boys i’m not showing up,” lando said, his hands were getting too generous for his touches to be just ‘teasing.’ 
lando won today. surely he can be something beyond generous, right? he got what he wanted for a long time, a long awaited victory.
it was only fair that his sweet girl got the brunt of that victory, too.
his lips attached themselves on her ear and nipped on it, eliciting a soft moan from her. pressing another kiss on her earlobe, lando whispered, “told them i’m too busy loving on my lucky charm.”
she let out a whine, her body squirming beneath lando’s towering ones while his hands slid her dress off.
she was left with nothing but a red lace knickers, her plump breasts eager to be devoured as lando growled quietly. his one hand created friction on her nipple while his mouth was attached to her other one. 
“oh,” she let out a little whimper, her back arching just at the feeling of lando’s hands and mouth all over her. “hm-“
lando’s hands worshipped her like she deserved, gliding through her curves and between her thighs. the sweet whispers of, “lando” continued to escape her mouth. 
“mmm… you’re so fucking pretty, my sweet girl,” lando murmured, his hands kneading and fondling her tits. “such good fucking tits, too.
precum leaked out of lando’s cock, his mind already feeling foggy with the thought of feeling her writhe beneath him. 
“you don’t mind me fucking these tits, do you?” lando taunted her, knowing that she would say yes anyway. “can i fuck these tits, baby? hm?”
lando could have cum right there as his half-lidded eyes were trained on her flustered face. the woman didn’t show how excited she was, but she sure wanted him as much. 
she bit her lip and nodded, her tits splayed out in the open. she held her breasts and squeezed them together.
lando grinned, moving up on the mattress with his cock gliding through her tits. lando let out a guttural groan, watching the tip of his cock disappearing each time he slid. 
she whimpered, enjoying the sight of lando on top of her. 
“fuck,” he cursed, thrusting his cock between her breast while she whined. “so good for me, baby. god, fuck. you’re gonna make me cum hard.” 
“oh god…”
and if fucking her tits wasn’t any better, seeing the top of her tongue lick his moving cock became nothing but a cherry on top. 
sure his first victory in miami was an achievement, but god his girlfriend was a delightful sight to see when she begged to be fucked too. 
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“hngh- oh god,” she whined lewdly, already too fucked out after her third orgasm of the night. from behind, lando watched himself glisten and slide out with her wetness coating his cock. 
“so good f’me, darling,” lando crooned softly, thrusting into her wet cunt slowly. 
she didn’t respond with anything but a muffled mewl, clutching the sheets drenched with the mess she made.
“ohhhh god fuck!” lando let out, his pace getting faster as her walls clenched around his girth. 
“oh my god,” she whined, “so good, so good. fuck!~”
“such a good girl,” lando praised her, his hand snaking between her thighs to rub her clit. “let it out baby. you’re such a good girl.”
“i’m gonna cum again,” she stammered, her body squirming and writhing while being caged by lando. she could crawl away, her legs shaking vigorously as she felt her orgasm approach. 
lando’s other hand glided on her ass, his thumb toying with her puckered hole as he muttered, “mmm… look at this hole of yours.”
“so tight and all,” lando commented, lust evident on his tone, “you’re gonna let me fuck this one of these days, aren’t you?”
“ngh-“
“yes?” lando chuckled darkly, “i know you said yes before. but…
“i want you to cum again,” lando whispered, his hand reaching up to tug on her hair. “cum on my cock darling. cum all over my cock.”
lando might be the victorious one today, sure, but nobody deserves a reward more than she did. 
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne
♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
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Heyy, hope you’re having a good day.
Don’t know if your requests are open but I really wanted to ask something. Could you write Oscar with baby fever, but like a lot, to the point that Lando knows about it and makes fun of him, and he is always trying to convince reader that they are ready to have a baby and how he would love to see her pregnant and obviously showing all the time vídeos o cute babies. Then to make it a little longer you could make some embarrassing moment of this baby fever, like Oscar getting flustered (or more lol) when seeing reader with a baby or like zac listening him saying some weird stuff, something like that yk. Then after months she accept. (If you are felling writing a little angst, you could write in the same one or another part, they trying to get pregnant but they can’t and Oscar gets very frustrated and ends up venting with Lando or so and little time later they discovered she is pregnant just to end in a cute way).
If you like the idea and decide to write it, feel free to make any changes you desire, I love your writing and I’m sure you’ll make my idea a thousand time better. Thank you <3
It is CRIMINAL how long it took me to answer this superb request.
Let’s Have A Baby, Baby (OP81)
Summary: There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.
Warnings: sexual conversations, language, Oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has Zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff idk where any of this came from
Note: i didn’t put any angst in this because THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO ADD ANYTHING BAD THIS COUPLE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF HAPPINESS AND MORE WITHOUT ANY COMPLICATIONS I MEAN IT.
How do you tell someone having a child at the ripe age of 22 is not a good idea?
Y/n sat at the end of the bed, watching Oscar pace back and forth as he rambled about how much he wanted to get her pregnant.
“Baby, you’d look so pretty. Please? You know how good the sex would be.” He turned toward her, eyes holding hers as he looked at her with his persuasive doe eyes.
Y/n groaned as her head fell back, “Osc, the sex is already good. Why do we need to add a child to the mix?”
Oscar fell to the floor, kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her knees as he tilted his head, “Because it’ll be fun! And you could dress them up in little clothes and…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting toward the floor before meeting hers once more, “We’d be a family.”
Y/n’s lip pouted out, emotions running strong in her body as her boyfriend held her hands so tightly, “Oscar,” She rubbed lightly over his cheekbone, “I would love to be a family with you, make a family with you, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Your career is just taking off and I’ve just barely started to figure out what I want to do with the degree I just earned. It’s not the right time.”
Oscar sighed, head lulling forward and into her lap, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”
Y/n smiled softly and folded forward, planting a kiss into his hair as she scratched at his scalp. “This doesn’t mean I don’t ever want kids, you know?”
He gave a small smile into her lap before looking up at her, “I know. I think I’m just a bit crazed with baby fever right now. You’re right. It’s not a good time to have a whole ass kid now.”
Y/n giggled, “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Oscar stood up, moving to sit beside her on the bed. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hair quickly as he murmured, “I still think you’d look good pregnant. With my kid, to be precise.”
“Y/n, are you seeing this?!” Oscar exclaimed as he shoved his phone in his girlfriend’s face. The TikTok he was showing her was of a little girl giggling continuously as, from what Y/n could gather, the child’s father tickled her stomach.
She blushed, “Yes, very cute, baby.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, “Exactly. Baby. I want a baby.”
“Mate…” Lando said with exhaustion, his head lulling back onto the couch he was sprawled out on. The McLaren crew members off to the side, getting coffees from the hospitality center, snickered.
Oscar’s head snapped to his teammate, “What? You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend to have a kid with.”
“Oscar!” Y/n yelled, hitting his arm as a warning while Lando just keeled over in laughter.
His face was red as he got out, “Oscah! Who taught you to talk like that?!”
Oscar just smiled, “You.”
Lando leaned back, gasping for breath as he came down, “Does that mean I can be its uncle?”
Oscar shook his head, “I’m thinking godfather.”
Y/n scoffed, “We are not having a child! Stop dreaming of something that is not going to be happening for a few more years.”
Oscar shot her a quick glance with a grin, “Just wait till I give you a preview of what having a kid could let us do and I’m sure your mind will change.”
Lando’s mouth fell open, “I need to be removed from the country after hearing that come out of your mouth.”
“Oscar, there is something mentally wrong with you.” Y/n hit his arm once more, shooting him a warning look.
He sidled up to her, “Think a baby could fix that?”
Y/n groaned and Lando laughed, “OSCAR!”
“Y/n! Oscar! Do you guys think you could watch Mila while Sav, Ollie, and I all go for a walk on the paddock?” Lando asked hesitantly, eyeing Oscar with his niece in his arms.
From the way they were staring at each other, Y/n knew Oscar had put Lando up to this. Nonetheless, she smiled, “Sure!”
Oscar beamed.
Y/n took Mila from Lando’s arms, turning to Oscar as Mila stared after her uncle as he walked away. A shy child, Y/n knew Mila would do well with a bit of childish conversation.
“Mila, who’s your favorite? Uncle Lala or Oscar?” Y/n smiled, pinching Mila’s cheeks to draw a few giggles from the little girl.
Mila squealed, “Uncle Lala!! Lala!”
Y/n’s heart warmed at the way the cute child screaming the sweetest nickname. Oscar looked down at his girlfriend and, in his delusions, their child.
He cocked his head, “You fall into the role quite well.”
His comment went ignored by his girlfriend as she continued poking Mila lightly, laughing along with the young girl as her head fell into Y/n’s chest from the tickling.
Y/n smiled up at him before turning around, wandering off into the McLaren garage with Mila still tucked under her arm. Oscar wished he could take a picture. Save it for later. He loved everything before his eyes.
When he was done getting lost in fairy land, he jogged in the direction his girlfriend had taken. What he found was a sight so dear to his heart. Y/n in conversation with Mark, a sleeping Mila in her arms. Part of the reason why he loved the image so much was how comfortable Y/n looked, how Mila laid against her body so easily and how Y/n swayed as if it was second nature.
He wished she could see what he saw.
Mark nodded at him as he came to stand next to Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist and trying to decipher the topic of conversation. “You’re talking about Otmar leaving Alpine?”
“Yeah, good riddance.” Y/n sighed, hand rubbing up and down Mila’s back.
Oscar squeezed her hip softly, “I want to leave that man in my past.”
Mark rolled his eyes, “Don’t we all.”
“There isn’t any corner of the world he could be that is too far from us.” Oscar murmured, face grimacing at the thought of the horrid man.
Y/n laughed and kissed his shoulder, “It’s okay, Osc. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
Mark nodded along, eyes entranced with the picture in front of him. He knew Oscar yearned for kid with Y/n, but it had never looked so real before. The boy he had watched grow up, helped fight for, had all of a sudden grown into a man who pushed for children with his girlfriend. Mark knew Oscar was still young, too young for kids, but it still felt a bit odd to see him as someone’s father. It was sobering to see Oscar, his girlfriend, and a child all at once, in a position that made them look like a family. Truthfully, a part of him felt at peace to know the war was over. Oscar had found a seat, a team that prioritized him, and a person who loved him wholly. There was no need to worry about Oscar anymore. What was he to do now?
“Can I take a picture of you two really quick?” Mark asked, a question so surprising Oscar and Y/n shared a strange look.
“Sure?” Y/n said, not fully understanding the reason behind his request.
Mark moved back an inch, position his camera as Y/n and Oscar smiled. Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder while Mila stayed in her arms, still asleep against her body. He turned his camera around to show the couple what he had just captured and Y/n’s heart squeezed. Oscar almost screamed and ripped his hair out. He wanted what this picture implied so badly. With her.
He kept his composure, “We look cute, no?”
Y/n hesitated, a lingering grin on her face as she stared down at the image. Though, her smile lengthened and she tilted her head, “Can you send that to me?”
Oscar was in rare form. From the moment he had woken up, he was making suggestive comments in Y/n’s ear. To put it shortly, he was horny for the woman by his side. When Oscar got like this, he became impulsive and threw caution to the wind. Therefore, Y/n wasn’t surprised when he started rambling to her in the middle of the McLaren garage.
“All I’m saying is that you would look damn good carrying my kid.” He giggled, hand dangerously low on her back.
“Oscar…” She whispered, eyes darting around them in an effort to show him how public he was making their conversation.
He shook his head, “No one can hear what I’m saying. They’re too wrapped up in their work. They don’t know that I’m telling you how good it would feel to fuck you raw.”
She blushed, “Oscar,” She tried once more, though her voice was beginning to lose his edge.
His hand brushed her hair out of the way, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that idea? Like the thought of me coming inside of you? Like the thought of everyone knowing you’re mine because you’re carrying my child?”
Her hand brushed up against his abs as she turned to look at him, his eyes boring down into hers. “Oscar, you are working.”
“So? We can go try for one right now, love. Just say the word.”
She tried to hold her composure, “Oscar, you are so bold.”
He kissed her softly, “Yeah? Or am I just attracted to the idea of seeing my cum leak out of you? I’d fuck it back into you with my fingers. Make sure it takes.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but her insides clenched together.
He tried once more, “I can tell you want it. I can feel your skin getting hotter under my hands,” He brushed his fingers against the skin peeking out from her crop top, “I could be feeling you cum around my bare cock too.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud throat clearing stopped her.
Oscar froze, Y/n paled.
The couple turned their heads slowly behind them, Zak side glancing them from his place inches away from them. Oscar opened his mouth to apologize, but Zak put up his hand.
“I never want to talk about this ever again.” He said, his voice so sharp it could cut ice.
Oscar’s hand flew to his mouth, “Zak, I’m so incredibly sorry. That wasn’t meant to be hear-”
Zak shook his head, “Oscar, I don’t care what the hell you do on your free time. Hell! I think it’s endearing how much you want to have kids with your girlfriend. But, I swear to God,” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “If I have to hear you talk about doing anything physical with your girlfriend, I will give you a bad car.”
Oscar nodded shortly, “Understood. I’m so sorry.”
Zak grimaced and shivered before giving the couple one last glance. A whisper loud enough for them to hear, “I’m so unsettled.”
Oscar turned back to his girlfriend. The woman so horrified, she refused to look at him.
He tilted his head, “It’s not that bad?”
Y/n snapped her head up at him. Her gaze fiery, it turned Oscar on. “You will never speak to me when we are near Zak, yeah?”
She walked away before he could respond.
“Y/n, that’s insane!” He screamed as he ran after her.
Lando chuckled to himself at the scene. Not knowing what Oscar had said, but inferring from the way Zak stared at a trash can like he was five seconds from vomiting into it.
Oscar stared down at Y/n as they laid in bed together, post-sex haze slowly depleting. His hand pushed tangled hair out of her face as he laid small kisses on her face, “I love you,” He whispered.
She smiled softly, “I love you too.”
From the way his eyes softened, Y/n’s being found peace. When she was younger, she had been so convinced she would never find love, never find a man who wanted to love her. Part of her wished she could go back in time and show her 16 year old self a picture of Oscar, detailing the man she would later find. Even though they fought and he got her so annoyed sometimes, he would always live to show her that what she had thought was unrealistic in love, was completely attainable. She had loved romcoms, yearning for that kind of feeling for someone else, but she was always lectured on how impossible that was. Oscar was the living counter argument to that statement. From the way he looked at her to the delicate nature of how he held her hand, she was secure in his love for her. A child was a lot, but a child was also a statement of forever. She wanted forever with Oscar, he did too. She wanted to share something so intimate with him beyond sex and vulnerability.
She wanted a kid with him.
In the silence of the night, she lightly spoke the words, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”
A year later and the sentence finally met his ears. Oscar stared at the wall behind her for a moment before letting his gaze fall to her.
“What?” Is all he could find within himself. The woman and the words of his dreams, finally a reality.
She giggled, “I’m ready to try for kids, Osc.”
His hands flew to cradle her face. He shook her head lightly as tears flooded his vision. His voice broke, “What?”
He couldn’t begin to muster another syllable, the staring was all his body could take. He wanted to memorize the twinkle in her eye as she completed his world. He wanted to think back on this moment and remember the way her hand felt against his rapidly beating heart, the way his hands got lost in her hair, the smell of her faded perfume, and the sincerity in her words.
He kissed her lips, soft and gentle as tears fell from his eyes. When they pulled back, she laughed and wiped the wetness on his cheeks, “Why are you crying, baby?”
His mouth opened and closed before speaking, “Because we’re having a kid… and I’ve found you, found the person I know the rest of my life was meant to be shared with. I think I’m just…” He trailed off, trying to find his words amongst all the things swirling around in his body, “I always knew I would be proud of myself if I got into F1, achieved a seat in the sport. I thought that would be the greatest achievement of my life, the most proud I would’ve ever been of myself. But, that’s not true because, in this moment, I am so much more proud of myself for being worthy enough of you and having a kid with you than getting a seat in Formula 1. I never thought about who I would settle down with, but now that I know it’s you, I can’t believe it was ever something that wasn’t on my mind. You are everything I ever think about. The life awaiting us and whatever tries to ruin our plans, I want it all. You are the beginning and end of my life.”
Y/n’s eyes were teary by the end of his confession, feeling as if she was drowning in the love of the moment.
When they kissed again, it felt more solidifying. Solidifying in that tomorrow, when they were filled with energy again, they would try for a baby. Solidifying that sometime, whether that was five years in the future or next week, a positive pregnancy test would sit brightly on the counter of their bathroom, affirming the forever they already knew was in store.
(ONE MONTH LATER)
How do you tell someone they’re 23 and going to be a dad?
Y/n snuck through the McLaren building at the Australian Grand Prix. Lando was in tow behind her as well as Mark and Oscar’s family, all eight of them tiptoeing toward Oscar’s room with large smiles.
Y/n clutched the pregnancy test in her hands, palms sweating heavily moments before she presented Oscar with news that would send him into sobs. No doubt.
“That one,” Lando whispered, pointing toward a black door at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Y/n turned back.
“Who’s recording?” She asked quietly as Mark smiled and shoved his phone out in front of him.
Y/n giggled, “Screenager,” before sending him a playful glance, her teasing out of love.
With another look to the group, her knuckles rapped on the door.
“One sec!” Oscar’s voice yelled, a few moments passing before he was flinging the door open with a smile. That smile, however, soon fell slightly at the sight of everyone he ever loved standing before him.
“Oh, no. What have I done?” He asked, face dropping as he made eye contact with his beaming mother. “What’s going on?” He asked, slightly confused at the manic faces of his family and closet friend.
“Oscar,” Y/n whispered, his attention drawing to her immediately.
His head cocked to the side, “Baby, what’s going on?”
Y/n smiled, “A baby.”
His confusion grew, “What do you mean ‘a baby’?”
“Oscar…” She said once more, hands shifting in their grasp.
In the tone of her voice, he found happiness.
“No,” He whispered.
Her hands came to rest between their bodies, the pregnancy test on clear display, “Yes,”
A very concerning scream erupted from Oscar before be flung himself into the arms of his girlfriend and, therefore, everyone behind her. There was loud squeals and laughter before Oscar pulled back.
“THERE’S GOING TO BE A BABY?!” He screamed, the volume bouncing off the walls and most likely down to the garage.
Y/n nodded, “OUR BABY!”
Another scream that Lando would have to make fun of Oscar for later. The couple hugged each other tightly, jumping and down in the most giddy way. Truly embarrassing for Oscar, according to Lando, but the Brit also knew how much his friend had pleaded for this.
It was clear in the way he choked back tears; clear in the way he held Y/n; clear in the way he stuffed the pregnancy test into his pocket, mumbling to himself about wanting to put it in a scrapbook for their first child.
Maybe the moment could have been left to just Oscar and Y/n, but, as they all conversed excitedly about nine months in the future, Oscar found everything he ever needed.
Formula 1 was a bonus.
This was his dream.
Y/n and Baby 1 were his drea-
Y/n and Baby 1 were his reality.
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valkyriexo · 12 days
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Silence | Bang Chan
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ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend Chan x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Angst , Smut
ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI ,dirty talk, swearing, Fingering, oral f reciving, begging
ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @chrizzztopherbang (sorry it took so long :((( )
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The restaurant was bustling, filled with the chatter of people enjoying their Friday night.
But at your table, a tense silence hung in the air.
Your parents sat across from you, glancing at the door every few minutes, waiting for the man they’d heard so much about. But as the minutes ticked by, Chan’s absence became glaring
Your stomach churned with anxiety, but you kept a smile on your face, holding onto the thin hope that maybe he was just running late. He had to be coming—this was the night you were finally introducing him to your parents, the people who mattered most to you.
Your phone sat face-up on the table, dark and motionless. No missed calls. No texts.
Not even a simple message to say he wasn’t coming.
You checked your phone again, the light of the screen glaringly bright in the dim restaurant. Nothing. He hadn’t reached out. No explanation. No apology. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, trying to keep the disappointment from showing on your face.
Your mom glanced at her watch, then back at you with a sympathetic smile. “Honey, maybe he got caught up in traffic or something. We can wait a bit longer.”
Your dad, on the other hand, wasn’t as forgiving. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his face a mask of thinly veiled frustration. “It’s been nearly an hour. If he can’t even make it to dinner with your parents, what does that say about him?”
You opened your mouth to defend him but stopped. You couldn’t deny that this wasn’t just an isolated event. Over the past few weeks, Chan had been slipping—forgetting dates, canceling plans last minute, or worse, just not showing up. But tonight, of all nights, was different. He knew how important this was to you. To both of you.
And he still wasn’t here.
It felt like a punch to the gut. You’d been nervous about tonight for weeks, planning every detail in your head. Your parents had flown in just for this. And Chan, the man you’d been dating for months, wasn’t even here
“Maybe something came up…” you offered weakly, though the words felt hollow, even to you.
Your dad sighed, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, a man who cares about you doesn’t let ‘something’ come up on a night like this. He makes time.”
The words stung because deep down, you knew he was right. You’d been making excuses for Chan for weeks, convincing yourself that his work, his schedule, was just overwhelming, and that it wasn’t personal. But this? This felt personal.
Your mom reached across the table, squeezing your hand gently. “We don’t have to stay, you know. We can reschedule, or…”
The thought of leaving without even hearing from him made your stomach drop. You wanted to brush it off, pretend like it didn’t matter, but it did. You wanted your parents to see the man you loved, to understand why you were so devoted to him. But right now, even you were struggling to remember that reason.
The waiter approached, a polite smile on his face. “Are we ready to order, or should I give you a few more minutes?”
You hesitated, glancing at the empty seat beside you, before shaking your head. “No, I think we’re ready.”
The rest of dinner was strained, your parents trying to keep up light conversation, but the tension in the air was undeniable. Every few minutes, your eyes drifted to your phone, but it remained painfully silent.
No word from Chan. No explanation.
By the time you made it back home, the weight of the evening settled heavily on your shoulders. Your parents had been kind—understanding, even—but their disappointment lingered. You could feel it in the hug your mom gave you before she left, the look your dad gave you as he told you to "think about what you deserve."
And he was right. You deserved better than this.
When you finally walked into your apartment, the quiet was suffocating. You dropped your bag on the couch, sitting down with a heavy sigh, staring at the blank screen of your phone once more. A million thoughts raced through your head—maybe something had happened, maybe there was a reason he couldn’t make it, maybe—
Your phone lit up, and your heart leapt for a split second. But it wasn’t Chan. It was a notification from some random app, and the disappointment hit you like a wave.
You leaned back against the couch, the realization sinking in. He hadn’t forgotten tonight. He’d just… not shown up. And the worst part was, he hadn’t even bothered to tell you.
There was no last-minute excuse, no frantic apology, no explanation. He had simply left you waiting.
You didn’t know how long you sat there, staring at nothing, feeling the weight of it all. But eventually, the front door opened, and Chan walked in, looking exhausted but casual, as if it were any other night. He saw you on the couch and smiled, dropping his keys onto the table.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Long day at the studio,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t even look guilty.
You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “Late? You didn’t even come.”
Chan frowned, confused. “What are you talking about? I’m here now.”
“You didn’t come to dinner,” you said, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and sadness. “I waited for you. My parents waited for you.”
It was as if the weight of what you were saying finally hit him. His eyes widened, realization dawning. “Shit, wait—dinner. That was tonight?”
You stood up, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah, it was tonight. The dinner where you were supposed to meet my parents for the first time. The dinner we planned weeks ago. And you didn’t show up.”
His face paled, guilt creeping in, but it wasn’t enough. Not this time. You had waited, excused, and forgiven too many times before.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to—” Chan started, but you cut him off.
“No, Chan. You didn’t even tell me you weren’t coming. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You left me sitting there, waiting, with no idea where you were.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the one who waits.”
Chan’s expression crumbled as he stepped forward, but you took a step back. “Please, I’ll make it right. I swear—”
But you’d heard it all before. And this time, it wasn’t enough.
The silence that followed your words was thick, suffocating. Chan stared at you, his face twisted in guilt, but it wasn’t enough this time. Nothing he could say would make up for the way you felt tonight—alone, forgotten, like an afterthought.
"I said I’m sorry, okay?" His voice was low, almost pleading. But the apology felt like it was more for his own peace of mind than for you.
You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Sorry? That’s all you have to say? You didn’t even care enough to send me a text, Chan! You didn’t care enough to let me know you weren’t coming to meet my parents!"
“I do care—” he started, but you cut him off, voice trembling with the frustration and hurt you’d been bottling up for weeks.
“Do you? Do you really? Because it feels like I’m the only one putting any effort into this relationship!” The words spilled out before you could stop them, years of unsaid feelings finally surfacing. “I’ve been bending over backwards for you, making excuses for you, and for what? For you to just forget about me over and over again?”
Chan’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with anger, but he kept his voice calm. “It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose. I’m trying to juggle everything—the studio, the group, the deadlines—it’s not easy.”
“Don’t you dare try to make me feel guilty for that.” Your voice cracked, and you took a step toward him, fists clenched. “I’ve been patient. I’ve understood every time you’ve had to cancel plans, every time you’ve been late because of work. But this was important, Chan! You were supposed to meet my parents! You were supposed to be there for me for once!”
He flinched, as if your words physically hurt him, but he still tried to defend himself. “I know it was important, but I can’t always be everywhere at once. I’m doing my best, and sometimes things slip through the cracks.”
You stared at him, feeling a bitter mix of anger and heartbreak. “I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m slipping through the cracks in your life.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Chan’s face softened as he realized how deeply he had hurt you. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage was done.
You turned away from him, your arms wrapping around yourself, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to spill. “I need space, Chan. I need to think.”
“Wait,” he said, stepping forward, his voice desperate now. “Don’t shut me out. Please, we can talk about this.”
You shook your head, your voice cold and distant. “There’s nothing to talk about right now. I just… I need time.”
Without another word, you walked past him, retreating into your bedroom, leaving him standing alone in the living room, guilt and frustration etched across his face.
The next few days were a blur of silence. You avoided Chan’s calls, ignored his texts, and when you saw him, you barely acknowledged his presence. The silent treatment weighed heavily on both of you, but you weren’t ready to face him. Not yet. The sting of being let down, again and again, was too fresh.
At first, Chan tried to give you space, respecting your need for time to process. But as the days went on, he began to grow more desperate. The messages started coming more frequently—apologies, explanations, everything he could think of to get through to you. But you remained silent.
One night, you were sitting in your living room, laying on the couch and scrolling through your phone aimlessly, when you heard a knock at your door. You didn’t respond, hoping he’d go away, but then the door opened slowly, and Chan stepped inside.
He looked exhausted, his usual confidence replaced by an unmistakable vulnerability. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before finally sitting down at the edge of your bed.
“I know you’re mad,” he started, his voice low and hesitant. “And you have every right to be.”
You didn’t say anything, keeping your eyes glued to your phone. But the tension in the room was thick, and you could feel him watching you, waiting for some kind of response.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I messed up. I know I did. And I can’t stand that I hurt you like this. I’ve been trying to fix it, but I don’t even know where to start anymore.”
Still, you said nothing, but your heart ached at the sadness in his voice. You wanted to forgive him, to let it go, but a part of you needed him to understand just how deeply his actions had hurt you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like you don’t matter. Because you do. You’re the most important person in my life, and I hate that I’ve made you feel otherwise.”
You glanced up at him, and the sight of him—his eyes red, his face etched with regret—made something inside you soften. But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” you said quietly, finally breaking your silence. “I can’t keep waiting for you to show up, wondering if I’m ever going to be enough to make you prioritize me.”
Chan’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. “You are enough. You’re more than enough. I’ve just been so caught up in everything that I lost sight of what’s really important.”
He reached out, taking your hand gently, and for the first time in days, you didn’t pull away.
“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’ve been an idiot. I know I’ve let you down more times than I can count, but I’m begging you… please don’t give up on us.”
Tears stung your eyes as you looked at him, the vulnerability in his expression breaking down the last of your defenses. You could see how much he meant every word, how deeply he regretted the pain he’d caused you.
“I don’t want to give up on us either,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But something has to change, Chan. I need to know that I can rely on you, that I matter.”
“You do,” he said quickly, his grip on your hand tightening. “I swear, things will be different. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be better. For you. For us.”
Before you could respond, Chan sank to his knees in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. The raw vulnerability in his expression made your heart ache. “Please,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know I’ve let you down. I know I’ve been a mess. But I’m begging you, please don’t give up on us. I need you. I’ll do anything to make this right. Just give me a chance.”
You stared at him, shocked by his sudden desperation. The image of him on his knees, pleading with you, was almost too much to bear. The hurt was still fresh, and though his words and actions were sincere, you struggled with the weight of what he’d done.
You looked down at Chan, kneeling before you, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and desperation. His plea hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises and fear. You could see how much he wanted to make things right, but the pain and disappointment you felt were still raw and unsettling.
“I don’t know, Chan,” you said finally, your voice wavering. “I want to believe that things will be different, but I’m not sure if I can just forgive and forget. You’ve let me down so many times. How can I be sure this time will be any different?”
Chan’s face fell, and he lowered his gaze, his shoulders slumping. “I understand if you’re not ready to forgive me. I really do. But please, just give me a chance to prove it to you. I know I’ve been a fool, and I’m sorry. I’ll work every day to show you that I’m worth your trust.”
Your heart ached at the sight of him, so vulnerable and earnest. You wanted to believe him, wanted to reach out and pull him up from his knees, but the scars of past disappointments were still fresh. You needed to see more than words. You needed to know that the change he promised was real and lasting.
Before you could voice your doubts, Chan moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze was disarming, and you felt your resolve waver as he closed the distance between you. He reached out gently, cupping your face with his hands, his touch warm and tender.
As he leaned in, his breath mingling with yours, you felt a surge of emotion that you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to push him away, to maintain your boundaries, but the vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes made it hard to resist. When his lips brushed against yours, it was soft and hesitant, a plea for forgiveness more profound than words could convey.
You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts, but then you found yourself responding, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both passionate and desperate. The connection was electric, and for a brief, fleeting moment, it felt like the world outside ceased to exist.
Chan’s kiss deepened, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he seemed to pour all his remorse and longing into that single, heartfelt kiss. It was as if he was trying to erase the distance that had grown between you, to bridge the gap left by all the unfulfilled promises.
You leaned back, pulling him with you, your body arching into his touch as his hands trailed over your skin. The sensation was intoxicating, and you found yourself lost in the moment, all rational thought fading away. You needed this, needed him.
His hands continued to trail, and one made its way to your clothed heat.
Your breath hitched as you felt him rub you through the fabric, a delicious friction building.
"Channie..." you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper.
"I need you, Y/N," he mumbled, his lips grazing your neck.
The battle raged on around you. Your body ached for him, for his touch, his kisses. As his fingers slipped underneath your panties, the warmth of his skin against yours, you felt your resolve crumble.
You wanted him, needed him, despite all the hurt and disappointment he had caused. In that moment, none of it mattered. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel.
Chan's eyes were dark with lust as his fingers slipped between your wet folds, the pressure of his thumb on your clit making your breath catch in your throat.
"God, Y/N, you're so wet," he murmured, his voice low and husky. " I missed this.."
As he continued his teasing, you could feel yourself giving in, the pleasure clouding your judgment. Your hips rocked against his hand, seeking more, and a moan escaped your lips as he slid a finger inside of you.
"You like that?" he whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear.
"Yes," you breathed out, your voice shaky.
The feeling of his fingers inside you, curling up just the way you liked, was almost too much to bear. His palm pressed against your clit, the heat and pressure driving you wild, his other hand beginning to slip your clothes off.
Your mind raced, conflicting thoughts tugging at you. Part of you wanted to stop this, to keep your walls up and protect yourself. But another part of you needed this, needed him, more than anything.
"I want to taste you.... To apologize with my tounge in places my words couldnt reach," he whispered against your ear
Chan's voice was thick with desire, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked at you. Your mind was spinning, but all you could focus on was how good it felt.
As he sank to his deeper into his knees in front of you, his face inches from your heat, you knew there was no going back. His breath was hot against your skin as he leaned in, and the feeling of his tongue against your folds was enough to make you moan.
Chan was relentless, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your most intimate parts was intoxicating, and you could feel the pleasure building inside of you, a delicious heat spreading through your body.
"Fuck, Y/N," he murmured, his voice muffled against you. "You taste so good."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a moan as he teased your entrance with his tongue.
"Channie..." you breathed out, your voice shaky.
You could feel the pressure building inside of you, your muscles tensing as his tongue lapped at your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you.
The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself losing control. Your hips bucked against his mouth, and you dug your fingers into his hair, holding him against you.
"Don't stop," you gasped, the words spilling from your lips without a thought.
You were teetering on the edge, your body aching for release but he wasnt gonna let it end there.
He was apologizing right?
You could feel it coming, the sweet relief just out of reach. You needed more, needed him deeper.
"Please," you moaned, the sound desperate and needy.
Chan responded immediately, his fingers pumping faster, his tongue swirling around your clit. He was relentless, his pace increasing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your muscles tightened, and the pressure inside you was almost too much to bear.
Then, suddenly, everything went white. You cried out, your body shuddering as the orgasm crashed through you. Your vision blurred, and all you could feel was the intense, pulsing pleasure coursing through your veins.
As you came down from the high, your breath ragged and your heart racing, you could feel the tension in the room.
But that wasnt the end for Chan
He continued to eat you out, wanting to give you another one.
You were exhausted, physically and emotionally, but Chan's hands held you in place, his tongue tracing patterns across your clit. The sensations were too much, and you could feel yourself quickly building toward another release.
"C-Chan," you whimpered, your voice shaky.
"Let go, baby," he whispered, his words sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Come for me again."
As his fingers curled inside you, and as he found that perfect spot, you knew you were done for. Your muscles tensed, and the pressure inside you threatened to burst.
"P-Please" You say without thinking, the pleasure taking over any rational thoughts.
"Oh no, no... this is my apology to you, baby. Im going to make you cum until i'm forgiven"
And then, with one final, torturous swipe of his tongue, you were gone.
Over and Over and Over again, until you could no longer remember why you were even mad at him in the first place.
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
Text
bent || alexia putellas x reader ||
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alexia finds you at one of your lowest points.
"(y/n), hold on, i'm coming!" alexia's voice carried throughout your apartment. she had burst through the door in a panic, nearly breaking it off of its hinges as she raced through. she was normally so reserved and careful. you froze from where you stood in your bathroom, previously having been staring at yourself trying to muster the energy to finish getting ready.
it hadn't always been so difficult for you. sure, you had your days where the weight of the world was too much for you to bear, but it had been a long time. things hadn't been bad for you since you came back. barcelona was your home again, and alexia was finally yours in all of the ways that you had once dreamed of.
everything was perfect, and yet, you still had a slip up. you woke up with years of progress undone in a single night. it hadn't been anybody's fault except for your own. alexia had offered to stay with you, as had others, and yet, you declined. you felt like you deserved to be alone, and you woke up in the morning to empty bottles scattered around your living room.
"ale, what are you doing here?" you tilted your head as you looked at your girlfriend curiously. alexia was panting as she leaned against the doorframe. you turned your body around to actually face her instead of staring at her reflection. "d-did you see them? i'm really sorry, i thought i was better. it had been years, all flushed down the drain."
"it's not your fault, mi carina. you had a bad night, it's a setback. i'm just glad that i got here before something bad happened," alexia said. she slowly moved towards you, and it wasn't until her hands clasped around yours and pulled something from your grasp that you realized you had been holding a razor. "i'll take care of you until you learn to take care of yourself."
"i don't deserve that. i'm broken, defective, a fucking mistake. i'll just do it again, and you can't answer every time i'm in hysterics," you tried to tell her. alexia wasn't having any of it, not that you were surprised. she loved you and was stubborn enough to stay with you until you started getting better.
"i will always answer when you call. it might always be immediately, but know that i'll be there for talk to you. sometimes you just have to be patient with me. please, remember to be patient." alexia looked like she wanted to cry, and you felt awful about upsetting her. you knew that wasn't what you were supposed to focus on, but it was all that you could. "you're not broken, and if you are, then i'll sit with you and help you put the pieces back together."
"what did i do to deserve you?"
"you gave me a second chance," alexia told you.
"you know, this place is really not big enough for the both of us." you were nervous about where alexia could go with this. you were happy with her around, and the last thing you wanted was for alexia to have realized that you were really too much for her to handle. all of her reassurance that she loved over the past week could have been for show as she waited for the right moment to drop a bomb on you. "i think we should stay at my place for a bit."
"you're leaving?" you asked with an absolutely heartbroken expression. alexia didn't live with you, so you should have seen this coming. silently, you berated yourself for being so stupid.
"only if you're coming with me. i just thought we could stay at my house for a little while. it's closer to the beach, and the tourists are finally starting to leave. oh, and no offense, but my bed is a lot more comfortable than yours. my back kind of hurts, but i didn't want to sound like i was complaining," alexia rambled.
"alexia, you're old," you laughed. alexia scoffed as she turned away from you with her arms crossed over her chest. "it's okay though, your sheets are nicer than mine. i'm honestly surprised you haven't tried replacing my bedding again yet."
"the package hasn't arrived yet. there was a delay in shipping," alexia admitted. you rolled your eyes as you got up from the couch to pack a bag to go to alexia's. "does this mean we're leaving?"
"i heard you stretch this morning. another night here, and you'd need a walker," you teased. alexia huffed and grumbled as you continued making jokes. she could pretend all she wanted that you were annoying her, but you knew how happy she was that you were joking around with her again instead of beating yourself up over the smallest of mistakes. it was a far cry from the woman who had deemed herself as a complete waste of space that alexia had seen just a few weeks ago.
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godsfavdarling · 2 months
Text
You could never hurt me
my masterlist
+18!!!
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: Spencer is terrified of hurting you, but one night, he finally gives in. words: 1,6k warnings: smut - unprotected sex (don't do that), soft!dom!Spencer, marking, bruising, hickeys, praise <3 a/n: this was a request! Also, all I could think about while writing this was Edward in breaking dawn pt. 1 because Bella wanted to have sex so badly. She was so horny, but Edward was like, "No! We are not doing that. I will not be matching your freak until we are merried!". So it finally happens and it's kind of cute because it's both of their first time. And the next day, Bella wakes up so happy, like it was the best night of her life, but Edward is miserable and sad because she has some bruising. She obviously couldn't care less, but Edward looks like he's about to kill himself. Also, I saw a theory that those bruises were actually from Jacob grabbing her too roughly at the wedding, but I don't know about that. I love Edward so much! like... that's my man. (my friend gave me a birthday card with him and spencer. I might have a type...)
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Spencer was a man of control. Every action, every word, every thought meticulously calculated. His job demanded it, and he excelled at it. But in the intimate corners of his life, especially with you, that control was both a safeguard and a prison.
He was terrified of hurting you. Every time you two were together, he held back, despite the simmering desire in his eyes.
And you could see it.
He was on top of you, both in his and your favorite place. Your legs spread wide to allow him the most access, his arms wrapped around you. He moved slowly, prolonging every stroke, his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder. 
His breathing quickened, and he started moving faster but stopped himself with a sigh almost immediately.
You could tell what he really wanted, what he craved. You also knew he would never allow himself to even ask you for permission.
For Spencer, there was no better feeling in this world than being on you, bringing you pleasure. Your soft moans and teary eyes were like a miracle he thanked the universe for every night.
His urge to let himself go overwhelmed him way too often. He dreamed about losing himself in you, moving with more pressure, faster, wilder, rougher, until you couldn't catch your breath anymore and you cried out, reaching your orgasm one after the other.
But he couldn't. You seemed so fragile and soft, and you loved him and cared for him the way no one ever had before. 
The mere thought of causing you any pain or discomfort was Spencer's worst nightmare. He wanted nothing less than pleasure, beauty, love, and kindness for you. 
That’s what you deserved.
He would not let himself cause you any pain. He could not be like the other monsters filling this world, the ones he has to catch. He was not like them. He was their opposite. He had to be.
But as you felt him withdraw and slow down, you couldn't ignore his and your desires anymore.
“Spencer,” you whispered, pressing your cheek against his. “It’s okay. I want all of you. I want you to let go. Don’t stop yourself.”
His breath hitched, fingers trembling as they traced your skin. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice laced with fear and longing.
“You won’t,” you assured him, your voice firm. “I trust you, Spencer. Please. You could never hurt me. I know you couldn’t. I love you.”
His resolve wavered, the walls around his control cracking. “That's not who I am.”
“You’re not listening to me. You won’t hurt me. I want this,” you said, cupping his face and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You’re kind, gentle, and you care about me. Show me how much, Spencer. Don’t hold back. I want this.”
For a while, he just stared at you, studying your face.
“You promise to immediately tell me if anything’s wrong. Promise me.”
“I promise. I always do,” you said before kissing him and looking into his eyes again.
Something inside him snapped. 
A floodgate opened, releasing a torrent of pent-up desire.
His lips crashed against yours, the kiss deep and demanding. His hands gripped your wrists and put them above your head. He started moving a bit faster, drawing out a louder moan from your lips, which was immediately shut down by his tongue on yours.
You could feel the shift in him, the control slipping away. 
His hands, once gentle, now gripped your wrists with a firm intensity. His body pressed against yours with a newfound urgency.
His movements became more demanding, his hips driving into you with a force that left you breathless. 
Each thrust was deeper, harder, as if he was trying to merge his very essence with yours. 
The pace quickened, his strokes powerful and relentless, pushing you closer to the edge with every motion.
His breath was hot against your skin as he whispered, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
You shook your head, gasping, “Don’t stop, Please. I need this. I need you.”
A growl of desire escaped his lips as he moved even faster, his thrusts now wild and unrestrained. 
His arms held you in place as he drove into you with an intensity that bordered on primal. The bed creaked beneath you and mixed with the sound of your soft whimpers.
He nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving marks of his possession. The slight sting only heightened your arousal, and you arched into him, meeting his fierce rhythm with equal fervor.
Spencer’s control was shattered, his desire for you taking over completely. 
He angled his thrusts to hit that perfect spot inside you, making you cry out his name. The look in his eyes was one of pure, unfiltered need, and you could see the satisfaction of finally letting go reflected in them.
He moved his hand to grab both of your wrists in it while his other one slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, the dual sensations sending you spiraling toward your high. 
Your body tightened, the pleasure coiling within you until it was almost too much to bear.
“Spencer, I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice trembling.
"It's okay. You can let go," he commanded, his voice rough with passion and desire. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours, filled with unwavering focus. "I want to feel you. Look at you... taking me so well."
His words were like velvet, each one wrapping around you, pulling you deeper.
"You're doing so well, baby. You're incredible… so perfect for me."
You cried out, feeling tears filling your eyes. You were so close. 
He knew exactly what he was doing. 
He knew that his words, dripping with praise, made you crazy.
"That's it, just like that." A smile, full of adoration and pride, spread across his lips. "I love seeing you like this, so beautiful and mine..."
With one final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. 
Your muscles clenched around him, drawing a deep, guttural moan from his lips. 
He followed you over the edge, his release spilling into you as he buried his face in your neck, his breath ragged and hot. His arms dropped your wrists and tightened around your back, holding you close as you both rode out the aftershocks together.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the intensity of what just happened leaving you both breathless. Then, slowly, he pulled back slightly to look at you.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
You smiled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “I’m more than okay. I loved it.”
He let out a shaky breath of relief, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips.
“I love you too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. 
--------------------------------
You woke up the next day quite late, alone in bed, with a smile plastered on your face. The memories of the previous night lingered in your mind, a warm, satisfying ache in your muscles. 
You slowly got up, feeling the pleasant soreness, and put on a shirt as you walked into the bathroom. Still smiling, you replayed all the pleasure in your head.
By the sink, as you reached to turn on the water, you noticed your wrists covered in a few bruises. They were small, nothing a long-sleeve shirt wouldn't cover. You looked at your neck, seeing the hickeys left by the man you loved so much. You smiled even wider at yourself in the mirror. 
Just then, Spencer walked in, his expression a mix of concern and guilt.
"I'm so sorry."
"About what?" you asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
His eyes softened but remained filled with remorse. "I hurt you."
"You didn't," you insisted, turning to face him fully, your expression earnest.
"I did," he said, his voice breaking slightly, his hand reaching out but stopping short of touching you.
You stepped closer, taking his hands in yours, feeling the tension in his grip. "Spencer, I wanted this. I feel amazing. It's just a few bruises. They'll be gone soon. You didn't hurt me. You could never hurt me."
He remained silent, his eyes filled with doubt, the weight of his guilt visible in the way his shoulders slumped. You could tell he didn't quite believe you and that he would be beating himself up over this for a while. You weren't sure how to convince him, but you needed him to understand.
"I think it's hot," you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
"You do?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in surprise.
"Yeah," you replied, your smile growing as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I'm yours and you're mine. And I love them."
You kissed him gently, pouring all your reassurance into the touch. His lips were soft against yours, hesitant at first but growing more confident as he felt your sincerity. 
After the kiss, he brought your wrists to his lips, placing soft, tender kisses on the bruises, his eyes never leaving yours. The tenderness in his touch made your heart swell, knowing he cared so deeply. You could feel his breath, warm and shaky, against your skin, each kiss a silent apology and a promise to be more careful.
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amaranthineghost · 10 months
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| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando x reader
ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.
ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support &lt;3
if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3
ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.
GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.
the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.
she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.
love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.
she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.
it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.
because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.
growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.
it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.
after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.
when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.
but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.
every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.
because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.
growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.
she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.
it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.
because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.
but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.
though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.
it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.
because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.
she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.
but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.
especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.
but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.
it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.
self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.
when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.
days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.
and it did, at least a little.
as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.
she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.
so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.
his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.
she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.
her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.
" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?
her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.
with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.
it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.
but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.
when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.
she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.
when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.
because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.
though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.
she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.
"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.
"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.
" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.
"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.
she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.
he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.
"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.
she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.
" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."
the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.
her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."
his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"
"how I feel."
he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"
she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.
she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."
she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.
he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."
his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.
the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.
"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.
she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.
"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.
she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.
he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.
he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.
he put out her fire.
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russo-woso · 2 months
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Biggest fan || Leah Williamson x singer!reader
Request | Masterlist | prompt list
Yes, I’ve based reader on Taylor swift…
Summary Leah being your biggest fan
You were finally coming to the end of your world tour.
The past two years you’d travelled to over 25 countries, playing over 150 shows and performed at sold out stadiums all over the world.
The tour had made history. It became the highest grossing tour ever, surpassing over £1 billion.
You’d been singing your whole life, but you released your first album when you were just 15 years old.
Since that age, you’d released 10 other albums in the space of 13 years.
You’d done world tours before, but this was the biggest one to date.
This tour consisted songs from all of your albums, making each show over three hours long.
You loved going on tour, but hated it at the same time.
You loved it because you got to do what you loved, singing your heart out to people who you loved dearly every night.
But you hated it because you missed the person you loved most of all.
Your girlfriend, Leah.
Singing had brought you many good things, but the greatest thing was by far, Leah.
Leah and you met at a charity event five years ago.
You were sat next to each other and just hit it off.
It had always been hard to find relationships, often being judged for them, or people taking advantage of you, and your social status within the world.
But there was something different about Leah.
Leah treated you normal, she treated you as if you were a normal person, and that’s all you’d ever wanted.
In Leah’s eyes, you were some gorgeous girl called Y/N, not Y/N the world biggest pop star.
From that night, you and Leah kept talking, meeting up for coffee dates before Leah finally asked you to be her girlfriend.
At first you were hesitant, not knowing if Leah knew the downfalls that came with you, but when you told her, she shut you down claiming that she loved you and any downfall wasn’t big enough to not be with you.
In that moment, you knew Leah was the one for you.
But that didn’t prevent the hurt of leaving her for tours.
One of your previous tours gave Leah a vision of what life was like without you by her side, but when you both made an equal effort to talk to one another every day, you knew it was going to be okay.
That tour finished and not long after, Covid hit and you and Leah were stuck with each other for months.
It was exactly what you needed after not being with each other for months.
During Covid, you wrote two albums, with the help of Leah, that you published.
Once Covid had gone, your publicist came to you and asked if you had any plans for a tour.
You explained your thoughts about a tour with all most of your albums in and the tour started its planning shortly after.
That’s what led to the Eras Tour.
A tour that included most of your eras, except one, but there was a reason behind that.
You planned to start in America, doing over 50 shows there before moving internationally.
What you hadn’t expected was to extend the tour and add several more shows due to the demand of tickets.
At first, you were concerned about the pressure that was being put on your relationship, worried that two years was too long for Leah.
Leah was incredible though. Saying that she was going to come and spend as much time with you when she had breaks from matches.
Leah had also done her ACL as well, so she had a lot of free time on her hands, so what not better to do than come and support her girl.
As you were approaching your final shows, you and Leah were talking about your future together and what it held.
You’d hoped that your fans had gotten the message that once the tour was over, you’d be having a well deserved break from the industry.
You were having this break to spend time with your family, and also to create a family.
You and Leah had discussed having a baby once your tour ended as it felt like the right time.
With this decision in mind, you knew your final show was going to be emotional and that’s why you desperately wanted Leah to be there, even though Leah was going to be there no matter what.
What you didn’t know is that Leah had invited the whole of the Arsenal squad, and England squad, along with all her family, wanting to show off how talented you were, although everyone already knew from her non stop bragging.
You didn’t mind though, it was an emotional time and you wanted people you loved to be there with you.
Your final show was at a sold out Wembley, your eighth sold out Wembley on the tour.
The crowd was incredible like always, screaming the lyrics to your songs for three hours straight.
You kept looking over to Leah throughout the show, a proud look never leaving her face.
As you sang your final song of the show, using the iconic lyric change, karma is the girl in the team, you turned to look at the audience, bringing the mic to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.
“Can you please give a massive round of applause for my backup dancers, my background singers, my band, and everyone who’s been involved in the tour.” You began, your voice shaking as you brought your backup and band team onto the stage once more. “We’ve made so many memories over the past 632 days, but you Wembley, have been by far one of the best of them.”
You looked at Leah who had tears in her eyes.
“There’s also just a few other people I’d like to thank…” you went through a list of them, thanking your family and friends, and the fans, but as you came to the last one, you felt like crying. “The biggest thank you goes to the girl on the team. Le, You’ve been nothing but supportive of me since we met but especially over the course of the past two years. So Thank you, le.”
At that everyone cheered her as you looked at her, tears streaming down her face.
Music started playing again as another lot of confetti was released.
“Goodnight everyone! Oh, and, this has been the Eras tour! I hope you enjoyed it!” You said, as everyone cheered for a final time.
As the stage went down, you were met with a very teary eyed Leah.
She immediately hugged you, pressing kisses all over your face.
“I’m so proud of you.” Leah whispered
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” You told her and more tears escaped your eyes.
“I love you.” Leah said, squeezing you harder.
“I love you too.”
“Now, toast.” Leah announced as she got up from the table.
Leah had treated you to a dinner with all of her teammates and family as a congratulations to the end of the tour.
“I dedicate this toast to my girl. My Y/N has done 153 shows over the past two years and has broken records for it. She’s also happened to break records about the most Grammy’s too but—” Leah began as you buried your head in your hands embarrassed.
“—We get it, Leah. You’re her biggest fan. We get it.” Beth joked as the table erupted in laughter.
“Anyway, to skip all the figures and statistics, I just wanted to say how proud I am of yoy. The tour has brought highs and lows but you’ve managed to get through them and for that, I am immensely proud. So, raise your glasses to the one, the only, Y/N Y/L/N.” Leah finished, hyping you up, as everyone raised their glasses before taking a sip.
Leah sat back down in her seat next to you, your arm wrapping with hers.
“Thank you, baby.” You whispered as the table fell back into light chatter.
“Everything I said is true.”
“I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Leah.” You were about to lean in for a kiss before stopping, Leah whining at the fact your lips didn’t connect. “Wait, even the fact that you’re my biggest fan?”
At that, Leah’s face just turned bright red.
“It’s true, she always plays your songs in the changing rooms, always pointing out that it’s her girlfriend singing.” Alessia told you from your right and you laughed, Leah’s face turning even more red.
“My biggest fan.”
“Can I have my kiss now?” Leah mumbled, and you gently pressed your lips on hers.
“Anything for my biggest fan.”
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 6 months
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His Dad (Soldier Boy)
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Description: Homelander cheats on Y/N with StormFront so she decides to sleep with a handsome stranger
Warning:Smut, Cheating
Word Count: 2,109k
Anger rose in her body as she watched the scene in front of her. The disbelief she felt and the hurt. She knew that he was a shitty guy from the start and that he didn’t care about anyone but himself. Her mistake really, for dating him. He wasn’t even a good boyfriend, now that she was thinking about it. He only ever cared about himself. He was controlling and didn’t like it when she did things without him. He hated that she had a life outside of him. Her world didn’t revolve around him. So as she watched him fuck that cunt, stormfront she only felt anger, but she wasn’t sure what the anger was at. Herself for him? Maybe both? She didn’t care, she just needed to leave. Without them noticing, she left. Billy was right all along and she should have listened to him. Homelander was a piece of shit. She fought back tears as she walked to the bar.
She couldn’t believe she wasted that much time on him. She sat on one of the barstools and ordered a drink. She needed to forget about him. That was step one. It was a few drinks later that she noticed a very handsome guy staring at her from across the table. He was probably the best looking guy she’s ever seen. He was observing her as she drank her pain away. She was beautiful and looked oddly familiar but he didn’t know from what. She looked at him as he gave her a smirk. The smirk that said he planned to give her a show.
She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, breaking eye contact with the handsome stranger she looked at who was calling and to her luck it was Homelander. She scoffed and ignored the call. She set down her phone and looked up to find the handsome guy by her side. “I take it that was your ex calling you?” He asked. She rolled her eyes. “Yup. Just recently too.” She said with anger. “So what did the dumbass do?” He asked. “Cheated on me.” She said and downed the rest of her drink. “How could anyone cheat on a pretty little thing like you?” He asked.
She chuckled and looked at him. “What’s your name?” She asked him. “Ben.” She nodded. “Y/N.” She told him. It clicked in his head that he saw her on TV and that she’s dating Homelander who happens to be his son. “Wait Y/N as in Homelander’s Y/N?” He asked. “Not anymore.” She said. “That asshole cheated on you?” She shook her head and ordered another drink. “Ya know that best part about all of this is? He was a terrible boyfriend. He only ever cared about himself, he was so possessive and didn’t want me having a life outside of him.” “Sounds like an asshole. You deserve better than that. You deserve a man not a little boy.” She took a sip of her drink. “Are you implying something Ben?” She looked at him. He shrugged. “Maybe I am.” She laughed and downed the rest of her drink. He watched her as she did. “Maybe I’m okay with that.” She said.
His lips crashed into hers the second they walked through the door of his house. He had her up against the wall with his hands placed above her head as he deepened the kiss. Her hands wrapped around his neck. He was very a good kisser and she was thankful for that. She didn’t wanna get ahead of herself but she seemed to pick the right guy to fuck after Homelander. They pulled away from the kiss breathing hard. “Wow. You’re a good kisser.” She told him. “Oh sweetheart, I’m very good at other things as well.” He said with a cocky smile. “Oh really?” He nodded. “How about you show me?” He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “That’s what I planned to do?” He said and carried her to his bedroom. Completely forgetting that his bedroom would give away who he was. He had posters of him and his team from back in the day on the wall. As they entered the room he mentally cursed himself and hoped she didn’t look around. She did and gasped. “You know Black Noir?” She asked him. He nodded and kissed her, hoping she wouldn’t ask any questions.
He dropped her on the bed and she opened her eyes to see him on the ceiling in a costume. She gasped loudly as it clicked in her head. He was soldier boy. She sat up fast and he looked at her concerned. “Are you okay?” He asked. “You-You’re soldier boy!” She said. He looked down “yeah I was hoping you wouldn’t find out.” He said. She got up from the bed. “There’s no way that I’m about to fuck another Supe.” She laughed. “So you don’t wanna fuck?” He asked. “No no I definitely do.” She said. He realized that Homelander never told her that he was his dad. “Good. Because I’m a way better fuck than that cape wearing bitch.” He said and pushed her back on the bed. She smirked and removed her shirt. “You better be.” He removed his and got on top her.
They went back to kissing and her hands ran up his muscular back. His hands ran down her body to her jeans. He unzipped them and slid his hand to her panties that were drenched by now. “Holy shit. You’re soaked.” He said against her lips and moved down to her neck. She gasped as his finger rubbed circles on her clit and his lips attacked her neck. She looked up at the ceiling and stared at the picture of him. He was so hot. She was so happy that she was in this position right now. She let out a moan as his finger sped up. “Ben fuck.” She moaned. He was going to make her cum just by one finger. He pulled away from her neck and stopped his finger. He got up and pulled her jeans off her body. He got on his knees and pulled her body to the end of the bed. Her wet covered cunt was face to face with him.
He rubbed his nose against her clit and she gasped, making him smirk. He pulled down her panties to revealing her cunt. “Wow.” He said and gave kitten licks. She moaned out and grabbed his hair and pulled making him groan into her pussy. He was full on eating her out like she was a full course meal. Her thighs clinched around his head as his finger was swirling around her hole. She gasped out as he entered her. His finger was thick. “Ben.” She moaned out. He started pumping his finger as his tongue worked on her clit. She was making the most pornographic noises that was music to his ears. He added another finger and curled them hitting her g spot. She screamed his name and let out a loud moan.
He kept hitting the spot over and over again. She was so close to the edge. His hair was a mess from her pulling it. “Ben, I’m gonna cum.” She warned him. He sped up his movements and felt her pussy spasm all over his fingers. She came hard with a whimper of the man’s name. He felt her squirt onto his face and he gave a sick laugh. Y/N opened her eyes and sat him. His face was covered in her juices. Her face was red at the sight. “You squirted.” He told her. “I’m so sorry I-“ “Relax honey it’s hot. I can tell he never made you do that.” And he was right. John never could. She pulled him in for a kiss. She tasted herself on his lips and she moaned. She pulled at his jeans and he unzipped them. She pulled them down and pulled away from the kiss to see that he was harder than a rock. His dick begging to be released from his boxers. She pulled them down. His dick was huge, way bigger than John’s. Her eyes widened at the size. He laughed at her reaction. “I can also tell I’m bigger than him.” Ben said with a smirk. She nodded.
Her hand reached up and she ran her thumb over the tip. He let out a groan at her soft hand. She wrapped her hand around his base and started jacking him off. His eyes closed and he let out a breath that he was holding in. Her hand felt amazing. Each thrust of her hand made him groan. “Fuck sweetheart. Your hand feels amazing.” He groaned. She watched as the man’s hips thrusted into her hand, heightening the pleasure. His eyebrows were scrunched together and his eyes were closed. He looked so sexy. He twitched in her hand and his breathing turned into pants. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Her hand moved faster and within seconds he came all over her hand.
She pulled her hand away from him and licked it clean. “WOW you’re really good with your hands. Homelander was a lucky guy.” He said to her. She smirked at him. “Well now I’m the lucky one.” She said. He pushed her back down on the bed and got on top of her. She looked up at him as he took in her pretty body. “God that guy is such an idiot.” He said and entered her. She gasped out at the feeling of being so full. One hand was placed by her head and the other was holding her hip. Her jaw dropped as he thrusted slowly and deep. She felt warm and tight. “Fuck you feel so good.” He groaned as they stared into each other’s eyes. She felt like at this moment nothing else mattered. He placed his forehead on hers and thrusted faster and faster.
She was letting out little whimpers and moans that were getting louder and louder. He felt himself getting closer and closer by just the noises she was making and the fact that he was fucking his son’s ex. She felt him twitch inside of her and she watched him as his eyes rolled back. She felt his cum deep inside of her which triggered her release. “Ben.” She moaned as she came all over his cock. Both of them out of breath and their hips slowly moving, riding out the highs. He collapsed next to her and looked at the picture of himself. Her breathing slowed and she turned to him. “So do you know Homelander?” She asked him. He nodded and looked at her. He figured now would be the best time to tell her that he was his son. “Yeah uh he’s my son.” He looked at her.
Her face twisted for a second like she was confused but also thinking about what he just said. Then she started laughing. “What’s so funny?” He asked her. She caught her breath. “There’s no way he’s your son. You guys are like the same age.” She pointed out. “Yeah well I was frozen for a while.” He said. She stopped laughing and looked at him with a straight face. “You’re tell me that the guy i just fucked happened to be my ex’s dad?” She asked. He nodded. She thought about it and wanted to laugh again. “That is the best thing ever.” She said. He looked at her confused. “Wait, you aren’t mad?” “Why would I be mad? You’re hot and he’s gonna lose his shit when he finds out.” She said. 
Homelander was banging on her door hard, pissed that she hasn’t answered her phone in a few days. She opened the door and he was fuming. “Why the fuck have you been avoiding my calls?” He was basically yelling. “I saw you and Stormfront so we are over.” She yelled back. His face dropped. “Baby that was a one time thing.” She shook her head. “No. Fuck you.” She said and went to shut the door. “I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, you can’t leave me.” He growled. She opened the door. “Actually I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” Before he could reply another voice called her name. “Y/N who’s at the door?” “Who the fuck is that?” Homelander asked her. The door opened wider to reveal Soldier Boy. “What the fuck is he doing here?” She shrugged. “You’re not the only one that calls me daddy now.” Soldier Boy said with a smirk.
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clockwayswrites · 9 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 9
WC: 1088, Masterpost
Cass hummed happily. Moving their new brother to the better safe house had gone so well that Cass was finally getting to meet him— to meet Danny! His name was Danny. Cass rolled the name around on her tongue, silently trying out out.
It was a good word day, a good day in so many ways, but Cass knew that the excitement of it all could make her tongue trip up. She wanted to get Danny’s name right this first time. Cass knew how much names mattered and she wanted to do the best by her new brother. Danny deserved the best, after everything he had been through.
Her arms were full of things that would hopefully help Danny continue to improve: soft clothing, a weighted blanket, a heat pack stuffed animal, and fresh groceries. Jason met her outside the elevator to help carry it all.
“Hey, Cass,” he said. His exhaustion pulled at his words.
He never tried to hide how tired he was from her, not like he did around the others. Cass knew it was because he knew that she would see past it, but it still felt nice to be the sibling that Jason didn’t mask around. (Dick still thought that he could get away with it.)
“Hello, Jason,” she said and took the opportunity to brush a kiss against his cheek when he leaned in to take the groceries from her.
It made his smile a little softer. “Thanks for bringing this stuff.”
“Of course,” Cass chirped. “Rules?”
“More guidelines,” Jason said. “No sudden or big movements, no loud noises. Metal sounds seem to set him off sometimes, so be careful in the kitchen. Oh, and stay where he can see you, at least at first. We figure we’ll have you over maybe one more time and then put you on rotation with us watching over him.”
“Yes, happy to help,” Cass agreed. She could follow those rules easily, even if they were more guidelines. “You need more rest.”
Jason chuckled dryly. “Yeah I do. That’s part of getting you and then Babs introduced. We’re still keeping someone awake in case he has a night terror or something.”
Cass hummed. Those were never any fun. “Hot chocolate?”
“We’ve got some on the cabinet. I’ll be sure to show you where everything is,” Jason assured her.
“Good. New brother now, please,” Cass said. She rolled her eyes when Jason gave her a look. “Yes, yes. Danny once in the door, not new brother. I know the ‘guidelines’.”
“Brat,” Jason grumbled but in that way that meant ‘I love you’.
It made Cass smile happily as they entered the apartment. She slipped her shoes off inside the door. Like the others, she had dressed in athleisure wear and a domino. She hoped it put their new brother more at ease than her mask would have with the stitched mouth. With the wide eyed way that Danny was watching her with, anything that would help him feel more settled was good.
She gave a little wave and smile. “Hello, Danny. I am Black Bat.”
Danny’s eyes flickered between her and Jason before he pulled one hand away from the tangle of himself him and Dick made to wave at her. “Um, hi Black Bat.”
“I brought things,” she said as she slowly lowered the bags onto the kitchen bar.
Dick perked up. “Ooh, candy?”
“Of course candy.” Cass didn’t bother to hide how she rolled her eyes at that. “But also…”
She tried to keep the noise down as she searched for the right bag. Pulling out the stuffed animal, she spun back around to face Danny and Dick. “For Danny,” she said, the soft, blue, teddy bear held in front of her face.
“Me?”
Cass hummed in confirmation and crept closer to the couch. She crouched down before she was too close, and held out the teddy bear towards Danny. He clearly wanted to reach out, but he held back. He was worried; she understood.
She hate that she did, but she did. She new too well what it was like to have something nice turned into a punishment.
“No tricks,” she assured him. “No payment. No catch. Just because, for you.”
Danny studied her for a long moment before he finally, slowly reached out to touch the teddy bear. When she didn’t pull it back, he took it and buried his face into the fabric.
“It’s soft.”
Cass nodded. “Yes. And yours.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” Cass assured him with a beaming smile. She backed up a little and sat on the floor.
“B.B. here might be looking after you with Hood and I,” Dick said as he let Danny settle back in against him. “But only if you’re alright with it. She’s the best though.”
“Favorite,” Cass said with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said from the open kitchen where he had finished putting away the food. He came up to stand behind her and she leaned back against her legs. “We all love you.”
“Yes.”
Jason snorted at her easily agreement. “Now Danny, do you want your big meal now or a snack now.”
“Do I have to?” Danny asked, softly, before snapping his mouth closed ducking back against Dick.
“Sorry Danny, but yeah,” Dick said. He brushed his fingers through Danny’s hair, but didn’t try to make him move. “Remember what you and Hood talked about this morning?”
The reply was whispered into the new blue bear. “That I have to try at last a few bites each time, even if I’m not hungry.”
“Exactly. But that sounds like to me like a snack might be best right now?” Dick waited for a nod. “Okay. And then a big meal later. Hey, maybe we can play a game to pass the time! It can be you and me against Hood and B.B.”
“Oh you’re going down,” Jason crowed, playing it up just enough to get Danny to peer out from behind the bear at them.
Dick gasped dramatically. “You would beat our dear,” a fraction of a pause where Cass knew Dick wanted to say brother, “esteemed guest? How could you?”
“Hey, alls fair in love and board games, you know that. But we’ll let you and Danny pick the game you want to lose at, won’t we B.B?”
“Only fair,” she agreed with an innocent smile. When Danny eyed her dubiously she couldn’t help but laugh. This new brother would be very fun to have around.
---
AN: This part has needed the very ending for a good bit now and it finally got there! Cass is always so much fun to write, even if she takes me a little to get into the swing with. Danny seems a fan so far too! Now who might he meet next... ^_~
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.
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flickering-chandelier · 5 months
Text
Will It Patch Your Broken Wings?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader 
Summary: Azriel is feeling insecure one night and cheats on Reader. She is absolutely devastated and wants nothing to do with him, but he is determined to show her how much he loves her. 
Inspired by the love triangle in Taylor Swift’s betty/august/cardigan
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, cheating, swearing
Word Count: 6.3k
Betty, I know where it all went wrong
Your favorite song was playing
From the far side of the gym
I was nowhere to be found
I hate the crowds, you know that
Plus, I saw you dance with him
Azriel tucked his wing in tighter as you led him through Rita’s, your hand in his, a bounce in your step. You loved it here: the energy, the dancing, the music. 
Azriel, on the other hand, really only went along because he loved you.
The music was pounding in Azriel’s mind, overwhelming his senses. He could normally block it out and will his body to be loose enough to attempt to dance with you, but today had been a particularly long day in which he had to… secure information from some traitors. 
He didn’t let his memory go past that, not when he was with you. But it had been a day. A terrible day. 
You were dancing now, like you were born to do it, like you didn’t care at all who was watching. You turned to him, a bright smile lighting up your face, and he couldn’t help but soften at the sight, feeling comforted by your effortless radiance. 
He would never understand why you had chosen him. He was thankful of course, but he was willing to admit the two of you sometimes seemed like an unlikely pair. You were bright and bubbly, lighting up every room -- a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his darkness, his tendency to be stoic and silent. 
Watching him stay completely still in the middle of the crowd, your face fell, and you sidled up to him, craning your neck to look him in the eyes as you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Are you okay? We can go home if you want.”
Azriel smiled faintly at you, dipping his head to give you a quick kiss. “Long day. You can dance. I’m going for a drink.”
You nodded, but still eyed him warily for a moment, gaze lingering on his swirling shadows, before turning back to the dance floor. 
By the time Azriel got his drink (the strongest they had), you were fully engrossed in a song that he realized was one of your favorites. He watched as you writhed on the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips, a bright smile on your face. 
A male came up to you then, taking your hand and twirling you under his arm. You laughed brightly before moving away from him, dancing on your own once again. 
Azriel couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting. That’s the kind of male she should be with, he thought. The kind that goes to a normal job and comes home without shadows or demons to chase away in his mind. The kind that can dance and twirl and laugh with you without a care in the world. 
He watched as you danced and danced, occasionally dancing with a random male for a moment before moving on.
She deserves better than you. She always has.
His breath was coming faster and faster now, the music pounding in his ears, through his skull, all that heat from so many bodies closing in on him. He had to get out, had to stretch his wings, had to get out.
Azriel shoved through the crowd and burst through the doors, out into the cool night, stretching out his wings and breathing deeply. He cursed himself. He was normally better than this, better at maintaining his emotions, his panic. By the Cauldron, he was the Night Court’s spymaster and he couldn’t handle an evening in a nightclub with his lover. 
Pathetic. That’s what he was.
“Are you okay?” a light, sing-songy voice broke through his rumbling thoughts.
He turned to see a very pretty High Fae woman. She was dressed a bit like Mor, he couldn’t help thinking, wearing a thin red dress that showed off all her assets, her light brown hair cascading down past her shoulders. 
She gave him a look that he hadn’t seen, or at least paid attention to, from a stranger in a very long time. 
He blinked. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”
Her lips slowly curved up into a sultry smile. “Anything I would be able to help you with?”
No. No, you cannot help me. I don't think anybody can.
She watched him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she tilted her head for him to follow. 
And Mother save him, he did.
---
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause you were never mine.
Your heart had been pounding, your body trembling, ever since you realized that Azriel was nowhere to be found. 
Something must have happened to him. It was the only explanation. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word. 
But, what could have possibly happened to the shadowsinger, in Velaris, of all places?
Your hand shook as you raised it to pound on the door of the river house.
Rhysand was the one who answered, shirtless, hair a mess. He looked very unhappy to see you. 
“I need you to find Azriel,” you nearly shouted before he could scold you.
He sobered immediately, noticing your distress. “What do you mean?”
You explained to him what had happened, that he had seemed off at Rita's, that he told you he was going to get a drink, then vanished. You had assumed that he had been lingering on the outskirts of the dance floor, and didn't notice for quite some time that he had left completely.
“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” he said soothingly. “Did you check your apartment?”
You nodded. He wasn't there, at the home he shared with you. “And the townhouse.”
Rhysand's violet eyes were contemplative. Hesitating.
“Can't you just…feel for him or whatever?”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I can.”
“Then do it!”
Rhysand's eyes went unfocused after a beat, and when they widened again in surprise, you knew he had found him.
“What is it? Is he okay?”
“He's… at a random apartment. At least it's not one that I recognize.”
Your heart lurched. “What? Why?”
Rhys shrugged, his expression darkening. “Okay. Shit. Wait here, I'll go tell Feyre what's going on and take you to him.”
Rhysand came back a moment later, now in his normal black attire, and winnowed you in front of an apartment complex not far from Rita's. You had certainly never been here before. The silence was agony as you followed Rhys up the stairs, to the door.
He glanced back at you, a question in his eyes. You shook your head and he knocked, the sound rattling around in your skull.
You heard shuffling, giggling, and then.
Then.
A woman answered the door. A beautiful woman who was wearing Azriel's shirt.
A woman who was wearing your lover’s shirt and nothing else.
Your knees nearly buckled. You tasted bile in your mouth. You were going to be sick.
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”
Rhysand was deathly still, his power rippling from him, darkening the doorway. You remained behind him, but you had to know. Had to know for sure.
So you peeked around Rhysand's shoulder, further into the woman's apartment.
And saw Azriel, bare chested, lying in her bed, the sheets bunched up at his waist, his wings drooping on the ground, his hand tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You barely had time to spin around before you emptied your stomach in the hallway.
---
The worst thing that I ever did 
was what I did to you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Az?” Rhysand's voice boomed from the door the woman had just answered.
Hearing such a familiar voice in such an unfamiliar setting was initially what shocked Azriel enough that he nearly fell out of bed.
Then it hit him.
Rhysand was here. 
No no no no no no--
Azriel scrambled up out of the woman's bed, frantically searching for his pants and tugging them on. 
“I-”
“Don't answer that.” Rhysand spat, and it was then that Azriel realized Rhys was holding you upright as both of you lingered in the doorway.
His heart stopped working. His mind stopped working.
He said your name, but it came out more like a croak.
You were trembling in Rhysand's arms, tears sliding down your cheeks.
What had he done what had he done what had he done--
Azriel took a step forward, but you recoiled, and he knew you would've fallen to the ground if Rhysand hadn't been holding you.
You looked… afraid of him. Not just hurt, not just disgusted, but actually afraid.
He said your name again, his voice and his heart breaking, but you turned to Rhysand and said in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, “Get me away from him.”
Rhysand shot you one last withering glance before he winnowed out of sight, taking you with him.
It was silent for a moment, until the woman said, “If I'd known you were such an asshole, I never would have done this.”
Azriel sank to his knees and wept.
---
You drew stars around my scars
But now I'm bleeding.
Back at the river house, Feyre was holding you as your body continued to shake, silent tears continued to fall, while Rhysand paced back and forth, rage radiating off of him.
“Azriel?” Feyre asked, wide eyed. “Our Azriel?”
“He's certainly not mine anymore,” you sniffed, and Feyre winced, shooting you an apologetic glance, holding you a little tighter.
“I can't believe it,” Rhys said, still pacing in the spare room where they had set you up for the night. “I cannot believe him.”
There was a knock on the door of the house and you froze. You all knew who it was.
You looked at Rhys, your eyes pleading.
“I won't let him in,” he said, his expression softening as he turned to you. “I'll ward the fucking house against him if I have to,” he growled, mostly to himself, as he retreated to send him away.
You leaned further into Feyre, grateful for your friends.
For his friends, you realized. His family.
They were on your side now, but you knew where their allegiance would ultimately lie.
In losing Azriel, you would lose your family, too.
Sobs racked your body then, and Feyre held on tight, settling her cheek on the top of your head. 
You thought of all the walls Azriel had broken down around your heart, all the promises he had made about love and forever. All the broken pieces of you that you had let him see, that he had helped you heal.
But it was all a lie.
You couldn't stop seeing it -- the woman, naked except for his shirt; Azriel, naked in her bed.
You wept and wept until there was absolutely nothing left of you.
---
A friend to all is a friend to none
Chase two girls, lose the one.
Azriel had come to the river house twice a day for the past three days. 
Each time, Rhysand opened the door, molten hot rage in his eyes, and told him to leave, that you weren’t ready yet. Azriel couldn’t blame him.
He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better. To make you better. He could try to explain what he had been feeling that night, but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It was all excuses, and he knew it. 
Azriel had destroyed everything. And now he just had to watch as his world burned down. 
Letting out a shuddering sigh, he knocked on Rhysand’s door, expecting to see his pissed off brother again, but it was Feyre who appeared.
He had never seen his High Lady look so disappointed. He hated that it was directed at him. 
“How could you do it?” she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the doorway.
Azriel felt tears prickling his eyes, and willed them not to fall. “I never felt like I deserved her,” he said quietly. 
“Well you definitely don’t now.”
He winced. “I know. I just -- I want to see her. How is she?”
Feyre furrowed her brow, furious. “How is she? She hasn’t left her room since she got here. Elain’s been forcing water down her throat so she doesn’t shrivel up and die, that’s how she is.”
Azriel swallowed, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt like he was drowning. He wished he would, if it meant that it would make you stop feeling like that. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
She studied him, her mouth a hard, thin line. Finally, she turned, heading inside and he followed her, his knees wobbling. 
When they made it to your door, she knocked softly, saying through the door, “He’s here.”
Azriel held his breath until the door opened, slowly. 
And when he saw you, he couldn’t breathe. You looked… devastating. Your eyes were red and swollen, you were pale, your hair was a mess. 
It was his fault. He had done this to you. He felt sick.
Your eyes were hollow when you looked at him, like you didn’t feel anything at all. 
“Do you want me to stay?” Feyre asked you quietly.
You shook your head, your eyes darting away from Azriel. Feyre shot him a warning glare before she reluctantly went down the hallway. 
You turned, moving to sit on the bed that looked like it hadn’t been made in days, every movement you made looking wary, exhausted. Destroyed. Your eyes were fixed on your hands in your lap, unwilling to look at him. 
Azriel lingered just inside the room, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. He longed to hold you in his arms, to kiss your pain away. 
He said your name, willing you to look at him. You flinched. 
It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I am so, so sorry,” he rasped.
You shook your head, not looking up. “How could you do this, Az? How could you do this to me?” Your voice cracked when you said his name. 
Tears started to fall down his own cheeks as he said, “I… don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I saw you dancing with those males, looking so carefree, and I didn’t feel like I fit into that part of your life. I’ve always felt like you deserved someone better than me, someone… easier.”
Finally, you looked up at him, and he wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were full of fury. And hurt. He had never seen you like that before. “You cheated on me because I danced with some guys for two seconds?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Azriel tried. 
“You think I wanted somebody like them? Somebody easier?”
Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought--”
“I wanted you,” you spat, and he recoiled at the hurt in your voice, at the pain in your eyes that he had put there. “All I ever wanted was you.”
He couldn't breathe. His voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it, “I'm sorry. It was a mistake, I'm a miserable, miserable fool. I want you. You're all I want.”
You laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “How can you even say that after what you did?”
“I know, you’re right,” he sighed, raking a scarred hand through his hair, his shadows dancing around his arms. “It doesn’t make sense, what I did. It was stupid and awful, and the worst thing that I’ve ever done, and I am so so sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, reaching his hand out to take yours. 
“Don’t touch me,” you spat, wrenching your hand away.
He blinked, taking a step back, his heart in his throat. 
“You said you loved me,” you said, your voice now barely a whisper, as if all your energy had been completely drained. “You said you wanted to be with me forever. Did you ever mean any of it?”
“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I still do. I love you. I want you.”
You sniffed, putting your head in your hands. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you fucked her.”
He blanched at your tone, at your language. He didn’t think you’d ever said that word before, at least not around him.
“Please,” he said, his voice breaking, as he knelt down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes. “Please, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”
Your eyes rose to meet his. You took in the sight, the shadowsinger kneeling before you, begging for your forgiveness. “You can’t fix it,” you said, seething. “You left me. You abandoned me at Rita’s. Do you have any idea how that felt? I thought something horrible had happened to you!”
Azriel tightened his jaw. He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought about--
“And then to see you. With her. In her bed,” you broke off, looking at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew.
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. His tears were flowing down his cheeks now and he hastily wiped them away, not wanting to take his eyes off you for fear that you would vanish.
After a long moment, you leveled your gaze on him again. “Would you have told me? If I wasn’t worried sick, if I had just gone home, and waited for you to stumble on in, would you have told me? Or would you just keep acting like everything was fine, knowing that you had just betrayed me?”
Azriel swallowed hard. He thought about the guilt he had felt immediately, how he was contemplating what the hell he was going to tell you as he was staring at that ceiling before Rhysand had knocked. “I would’ve told you,” he said, his voice husky. “I was going to tell you.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, looking anywhere but him. “I don’t even know why I asked. How can I trust anything you say?”
“I don’t know. But it’s true,” he said, shifting on his knees, wishing he could reach for your hand. 
Hiding your face in your hands, you said, barely audibly, “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me and making me feel like this.”
Azriel’s heart finally shattered completely. He knew he would never be able to put the pieces back together, as long as he lived. He had done this to you, his beautiful, bubbly, happy love. Reduced to this. To hating him. And he couldn’t even blame you. 
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
“Stop saying that,” you cried. 
“It’s true. It’s all I’ve got. I won’t try to make excuses, I’m just … I’m sorry. And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”
You sniffled, and took your hands away from your face, looking to the ceiling once again, like you were steeling yourself to say what you were about to. “I never want to see you again,” you said, weakly. “You can have the apartment. Elain and Nesta are packing my things right now.”
Azriel shook his head, his panic rising, “No, no, you don’t have to--”
“I do,” you cut him off. “It’s done, Az. We’re done,” you rose off the bed and went to the washroom, looking unsteady on your feet. “You can go now.”
You shut yourself in behind the closed door, and it was five hundred years of will and training that carried his legs out of the river house, and out of your life forever.
Azriel took to the sky, flying and flying, the wind biting at his skin, at his eyes. He kept picturing your heartbroken expression, the words you spoke to him.
He didn't stop flying until he made it to the depths of the Illyrian mountains, where he knew he would be well and truly alone.
Spotting a flat section nestled between several mountains, he landed in the snow, barely stopping long enough to punch the mountainside. It was stupid, he knew, he was more likely to break his hand than blow off any of this steam, but he had to do something to stop this pain, this panic, this despair that he could blame on nobody but himself.
He had lost you. He had lost the love of his life forever because he couldn't overcome his fears. He had been so scared that he wasn't good enough for you that he made sure that it was true.
Grunting, he punched the mountainside over and over again until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more. Tears froze on his cheeks, the wind chilling him to the bone.
Az was dimly aware of someone landing behind him, so hard it shook the ground beneath his feet. He kept punching.
“You're not going to solve your problems out here,” Cassian called to him.
Finally, Azriel halted, turning around to face his brother. “You know, we have better things to punch,” Cassian added.
Azriel scowled, sinking into the snow, exhausted.
Cassian strode over to him, plopping down a few feet away, hissing at the cold now sleeping through his pants. He studied Azriel, seemingly waiting for him to speak.
“She hates me,” Azriel whispered finally. “She said she never wants to see me again.”
Cassian sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Fuck.”
Azriel could only nod sadly.
“You know she didn't mean it. At least not the second part. She loves you.”
Sniffing, wiping at his eyes, Azriel groaned. “I don't know if she does anymore.”
“She does,” Cassian said quietly. “I know she does.”
After a beat of silence, Cassian asked, “What are you going to do?”
Azriel shrugged, watching his bloody hands start to heal. “Well. I could either hang around, keep apologizing, and piss her off more, or… leave her alone…”
“And piss her off more,” Cassian added.
A dry laugh escaped Azriel. “Exactly.”
Cassian was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering how to help him.
“I’m not giving up on her,” Azriel finally said, with more conviction than he felt. “I just… I don't want to make it worse.”
“Az, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it could get much worse,” Cassian said, grimacing.
Azriel just sighed, stretching out his wings behind him.
---
I knew I'd curse you for the longest time
Chasing shadows in the grocery line.
Seeing Azriel again, seeing him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, seeing how hollow his eyes looked, how his shadows were so unrelenting around him, had absolutely wrecked you. 
It was another few days until you had the courage to leave the river house at all. 
Azriel had come back to the river house several times, but you had your friends send him away. You couldn’t bear to see him again. 
Feyre and Rhysand had checked on you frequently during your stay at their house, consoling you, cursing Azriel’s name right along with you. Rhys had even loaned you what you needed to get your own apartment, on the other side of Velaris from the one that you once shared with Azriel.
That part seemed to make it final, somehow. You could almost convince yourself it had all been a dream until you made your way to your new, empty apartment, without a trace of the love that used to be yours. 
That empty apartment wrecked you all over again, and as you looked around it for the first time, your body folded in half, arms wrapping around your stomach as your body racked with sobs. 
You had started to regret insisting that you do this part by yourself. 
It was really over. Azriel really cheated on you and it was really done. 
You knew it was time to start distancing yourself from Azriel’s family. They had undoubtedly been on your side this whole time, but even Rhysand and Feyre were starting to change their tune slightly. You know he loves you still. You know he’s a good male. You know he’s so sorry.
You understood where they were coming from, really, you did. 
But that didn’t make it hurt less. What you needed was to hate him. It was the only way you could ever bring yourself to move on, to start living your life again.
You had been solemnly unpacking for a few hours when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened immediately. Rhysand and Feyre had said that they wouldn’t tell Azriel where you lived, but maybe he had figured it out?
“Relax sweetheart, it’s me,” Cassian said on the other side of the door, and you did relax, if only slightly. You hadn’t seen him since before this all started.
Reluctantly you let him in. He was sauntering, wearing that easy smirk he always donned. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying. 
Cassian whistled as he looked around. “Nice place.”
You settled on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes softened as he walked closer to you, then perched next to you on the couch, not quite relaxed. “I wanted to check on you.”
“You can report back to Azriel that I’m just as pissed as ever,” you grumbled. 
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Cassian said quietly. 
Skeptically, you turned to face him. You were sure he would be the most likely to take Azriel’s side. 
After a moment, Cassian said, “If it’s any consolation, he hates himself probably about as much as you hate him right now.”
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you admitted.
Cassian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Did you mean it? That you never wanted to see him again?”
You shifted, hugging your knees to your chest. “In the moment I did. Thinking about seeing him now… it breaks me apart. But, thinking about the rest of my life completely without him…”
“That breaks you apart too?” Cassian offered.
You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.
“Okay, look,” Cassian said, turning so he fully faced you. “I’m going to tell you something. You’re my friend and he’s my brother, and I love you both, so I need you to know I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I am merely giving you information. Okay?”
“O-kay…”
He took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before he continued. “Azriel has always felt like he was inferior. The way he was raised… he carries that around more than a lot of people think. He often thinks that he isn’t good enough for people, but especially you.”
“How do you know?” You knew that Az still dealt with a lot from his childhood, but he wouldn’t often voice those things to you. He had mentioned something about not feeling good enough when you saw him, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“He mentioned it to me a few times, that he didn’t feel like he was the kind of person you should be with. You’re so bright and bubbly, he felt like you deserved somebody who was the same.”
You rested your cheek on your knee, trying to digest the information. “But… he must have known I never actually felt like that, right?”
Cassian shrugged. “On a good day, maybe. But deep down I think he always had it in the back of his mind: that fear that he wasn’t right for you.”
“He should’ve told me,” you said quietly.
“I agree. And I’m not saying that it excuses what he did, but that day…it was a hard one for him. What he had to do in the Court of Nightmares.”
Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even thought about that. 
“Well, he should’ve told me that too.”
Cassian nodded. “Yes. He should have.”
You groaned. “I hate this.”
“I know,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.”
Cassian let you cry on his chest for a long moment before he said, “hH wants to come see you, you know. He doesn't want to give up on you.”
When you didn't respond, he said softly, “Just think about it.”
Days later, all that Cassian had said was still ringing in your ears, even as you walked through the market when it was the busiest.
Despite everything, it hurt your heart to think that Azriel had ever felt like he wasn't enough for you. And you were still so hurt at what he had done and what you had seen, but it at least made more sense now.
You hated this feeling of loneliness that followed you around wherever you went now, rooted so deeply in you that you were scared it would never go away.
Azriel had been so good to you for so long. Was one mistake really worth throwing everything away?
Every time you had the thought though, you remembered the sight of him in her bed and wanted to scream or cry or kick something.
Suddenly, as you were nearing the edge of the market, you swore you saw the wisp of a curling shadow out of the corner of your eye and stiffened. This hadn't been the first time that you thought you glimpsed Azriel's shadows or wings in public since it happened.
But, no this time it was real. And he saw you too.
You willed your feet to move, but they wouldn't. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, from this man who had loved and hurt you so completely.
Azriel approached you like you were an injured animal he was trying not to scare away. Your heart thundered in your chest.
“Hi,” he said in what you knew was his gentlest voice.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Still, after everything, you missed him. And seeing him now… it was too much to bear. Yet, too much to walk away.
“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with pain and affection. His shadows were on full display, despite the fact that they usually shied away from the sun. 
“You've already said that,” you murmured, still rooted to the spot.
“I know. And I'll keep saying it every chance I get. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you flowers or a book or dinner from that restaurant you love every day and I'd tell you I'm sorry and that I love you.” His voice was shaky in a way you had never heard from the shadowsinger.
“You would not,” you said, trying to sound angry but it just came out weak.
“Of course I would,” he said, risking a step closer to you. “I would do anything to take your pain away. You have to believe that.” 
You did. You did believe that he meant it. But you didn't know if it would be enough.
For a moment you let yourself gaze at the man you once trusted with your whole heart. He looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were still hollow, dark bags beneath them. Even his wings drooped slightly. He might look even worse than you did.
And yet, you could still see the beautiful, sweet shadowsinger you had fallen in love with so long ago.
Finally you said quietly, “I'll tell Rhys he can give you my address.”
Those hazel eyes sparked with hope. And love. Definitely love.
---
The only thing I wanna do
Is make it up to you.
When you went out the next morning, there was a book left at your doorstep with a note attached.
It was the newest from one of your favorite authors. Your lips formed the tiniest smile.
The note read:
I couldn't start my groveling with something too cliche, so I went straight for your romance novels.
I've never told you this, but I always love when you tell me about the books you’re reading. Your entire face lights up when you do. And you know I love a fairytale ending.
I hope you have a good day today.
I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry for hurting you.
I love you so much. I always will.
-Az
You couldn't help but laugh a little by the time you got to the end. As if anybody else would be writing you this note.
The next morning when you stepped out your door, there was a pastry from your favorite cafe in a to-go bag. On the bag was a note:
I'm really hoping you'll find this in the morning so it's still good.
If not, you just come let me know and I'll drop everything to get you a fresh one. 
I miss you.
My life is a nightmare without you.
I'm so sorry.
I love you.
-Az
And so it went. Every morning, rain or shine, Azriel would leave something that he knew you would love, with a note, always ending in some version of I'm sorry. I love you.
It did warm your heart that had turned so cold. The dedication alone was enough to prove to you that he really was sorry for what he did.
Yet, every time a note would make you laugh or cry so much that you wanted to run to his arms, you were always stopped by that image that plagued your mind. By the fact that he did what he did and no amount of little gifts would change it.
Months passed, and to Azriel's credit, the gifts, and more importantly the notes, kept coming. Your bedside drawer was completely full of them. And there may have been a night or two when you missed him so desperately that you would read them over and over again until your eyes burned and you had no choice but to cry yourself to sleep.
You would sometimes lay awake at night, picturing him coming up to your door. Several times you wanted to wait up for him, to listen for his footsteps, to pull him into your apartment, forget everything that happened and just be happy again.
But you never had the nerve. You were terrified of going through it all again.
Until one day, there was no gift at your door. No note. No sign of him anywhere.
Your heart plummeted. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured on some mission Rhysand sent him on?
Or had he finally given up on you?
It wasn't until that moment that you were willing to admit to yourself how much you had been relying on those notes, those little pieces of him.
You went through your day in a daze, devastated all over again.
It was early in the evening when there was a knock on your door. For a moment, you hoped it would be Azriel. You hadn't actually seen him for months. But you quickly realized it was more likely to be one of your friends, who still came by, despite what you had initially thought.
So, the breath was knocked completely out of you when it was indeed the shadowsinger waiting on the other side of the door. 
His handsome face, his soft expression, on his face made you want to weep. You missed him so much.
Azriel smiled somewhat shyly as he gazed down at you, holding a paper bag in his hand. “I'm sorry it's late. Rhys has got me scouting out some things, and I didn't get back here until now. I brought dinner,” he said, holding it out to you.
You recognized it from your favorite restaurant. With shaking hands, you took it from him, spotting the note attached to the outside.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
Over and over again it was repeated, taking up the entire paper. You placed it on a table inside before your gaze flicked back to him. He was watching you closely, his wings tucked in tightly behind him. 
“I thought you gave up on me,” you whispered.
His timid smile fell. “Never,” he said softly. “I'll never give up on you. I love you so much.”
Tears brimmed your eyes and all of a sudden, you knew you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't want to hate him, you didn't want to dwell on the one awful thing that he had done. You had a drawer full of wonderful things that he had done.
“I love you, too,” you murmured, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now.
A sound that sounded distinctly like a sob escaped Azriel, and he wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that again,” he sniffed, his hand cupping the back of your head, kissing your temple.
After a long moment, he took your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment before he slowly kissed your tears away. You laughed lightly and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you so softly, like he was afraid you would break.
“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. “I love you so much.”
You pulled back long enough to gently brush his tears away. “No more secrets. If you're struggling with something, you need to tell me.”
“I know. I'm sorry. No more secrets.”
“And nobody else. Ever.”
He winced. “I'm so sorry, love.”
“I know you are,” you said softly, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
You rose to your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
At last, you had found your way back home.
A/N: Want to see Azriel pay for his crimes instead? Go read the alternate angsty ending here!
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p0rk-guts · 7 months
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Velvette if she served cunt
Design breakdown below 👇🏾(BEWARE IT'S VERY LONG)
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Alright going into detail about my gripes and edits. Like Velvette but her design is just. Not good to me. None of her (main) outfit details look like they fit to me— pinstripe pants + long fur coat paired with black crop top and scene sleeves? Skull earrings? TINKERBELL HEELS????? Tell me how any of that meshes well or even makes SENSE for the social media influencer persona she's supposed to have going on. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be clown themed... But I'm just gonna toss that idea out bc being a revered social media influencer and a clown at the same time just seems a bit oxymoronic to me, and the "clown" details aren't adding shit for me.
And don't think I forgot about her features. Pale ash grey skin and wavy hair at best. If she was supposed to be some type of creature where a nonhuman skin tone would make sense then maybe I could let it go?? But as far as I can tell she doesn't have an object or creature or animal theme like the other V's and if she does I shouldn't need to do detective work to figure it out. There is no reason for *any* of these poc characters to have grey skin, especially since they don't have any other poc features at all.
Sorry that shit gets me heated anyways. Onto my redesign. Gave her a more obviously black skin tone and textured hair bc I love a 30 inch buss down as much as the next girl but considering how there are no significant poc cast members with visibly textured hair I think she deserves to flaunt some coils if no one else will.
Ngl I'm not. A fashion girlie. Idk what's trendy idk what screams "influencer" so a lot of this was just throwing shit at the wall that I've seen around recently but it looks cute enough to me. And there was a bit of inspiration taken from Aliyahcore and ghetto fabulous fashion ❤️
If you can't tell this is shamefully inspired by lovesart23's Velvette reimagining because imo they had some outstanding ideas for Vel. I low-key stole their idea for those floating eyes in her hair that follow her around and help her keep tabs on shit it was just a superb idea for a social media overlord to me. I also took some inspo from @furbtasticworksofart 's redesign because vampire influencer sucking up the souls of her followers in exchange for content??? Too good (also the eyes were supposed to have bat/vamp wings I just forgot 😭) So yeah she's a vampire demon now. Without the features she was looking too human anyhow. Maybe she also feeds off of the energy of her followers through tech like after Vox mind controls them or whatever... Idk idk is that anything
Speaking of Vox, the screen glasses are meant to connect her to him w/ their color and shape while serving the purpose of being like a second phone she can post and check the web with. Like lovesart said in their reimagining vid, Vel doesn't really do more than pose for selfies and scroll on her phone when it comes to social media so in my head she's constantly flipping her shades on and off, using them to scroll and stay active, and they can show when she's not paying attention or respect to something/someone bc scrolling is more worth her time in the moment.
The hearts everywhere are also supposed to kinda represent social media likes + connect her back to Val w/ his heart patterns. That might've been what the hearts in her og design were for but. I just didn't like their placement bc I'm a nitpicker and a hater❕
I have so much more I could say about possible ideas for Velvette because I love evil black girls and I only want them to succeed in my media and I could treat her so much BETTER but I'll refrain bc this is way too long anyway.
Alright for reading/scrolling through all that rambling I offer you the sketches + some alt hair ideas I had
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P.S. I'm very open to constructive criticism but if I see anyone just dick riding in my replies or rb's I'm just blocking you on sight ✌🏾
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meangirls-imagines · 6 months
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Hey this is a little different I guess but can you do a regina x fem reader where reader is so genuine and thoughtful about loving regina that Miss queen bee sometimes gets overwhelmed because when has anyone treated her like that when they didn't want something or her want something from them?
Used To It
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Description: Regina is used to putting all of the effort in her relationships. She starts dating Reader and gets overwhelmed by the amount of love and effort she's shown. Reader helps her realize what she deserves.
WARNINGS: none, fluffy as fuck
Regina George was not used to love.
I mean, sure, her parents loved her. But, they loved her because they were her parents. It's kind of a requirement to love your kids.
She thought Aaron loved her, but he just loved what dating Regina gave him. Popularity, status, friends. Same thing with Shane, he loved her because she was good at sex.
She never really felt love.
She had always heard about it, seen it in movies, read about it, but she had never experienced it.
She thought dying for 15 seconds would finally get her the love she had been chasing her whole life. Turns out, it doesn't. It just makes everyone feel pity for you.
After completely healing from the spinal injury, and neck brace free, Regina came out to the whole school. Most people were surprised but some people kinda already knew.
A couple of months after coming out, Regina started talking to a girl in her Physics class.
Y/N Y/L/N.
She was very sweet and charming and always knew how to make Regina feel better. After a few dates, Y/N asked Regina to be her girlfriend, to which the blonde said yes.
Now, a couple of months into their relationship, Regina felt overwhelmed. In a confusing way.
It's not like it was Y/N's fault. It wasn't.
The girl had been nothing short of perfect to Regina. Taking her on spontaneous dates, buying her gifts, pda, the whole nine yards.
She wasn't used to it.
She was used to taking control in her relationships but this, this was different from any relationship she had been in. This was....healthy.
The blonde didn't know how to bring up how she felt to Y/N. She had talked to Karen and Gretchen and even though they weren't much help, they were right.
"Be honest with her, Regina. She'll understand."
The blonde had texted Y/N to come over so they could talk. She had to let her know that it wasn't anything bad, so she wouldn't freak out. Fifteen minutes after she sent the text, Y/N showed up.
She had stopped and gotten Regina her usual from Starbucks. Regina's heart melted at the gesture and thanked the girl with a kiss. She led Y/N into her room, for more privacy as the girl made herself comfortable.
"So, what's up, baby?" Regina took a deep breath and sat at her vanity, facing Y/N. "Umm. I don't know how to say this." The blonde began to fidget as Y/N looked at the girl with a comforting smile.
"Take your time baby." Regina took another deep breath. "I've never been in a relationship that's so...healthy. And it's overwhelming." Y/N nodded, allowing Regina to go on.
"I've never been around a relationship that showed me what love was supposed to be. My parents, Aaron, Shane. I've never been exposed to stuff like that and you have shown me more love in these few months than anyone and it's very overwhelming. I don't wanna mess anything up because I'm happy for the first time in my life, but I also don't wanna hold back."
Y/N nodded and stood, walking to where Regina was sitting. "Regina, first off, thank you for being honest with me baby. Listen, I just wanna give you the best. I know your past relationships haven't been the best, but I'm going to make up for the sucky parts by treating you like the princess you are."
Regina's eyes filled with tears at the girls words. "I don't want to overwhelm you but I also don't want you to feel like I'm going to treat you like your other relationships did. This is a team, Regina. Not an individual thing. I'm going to be there for you, just like you're going to be there for me."
Regina nodded, tears running down her face. Y/N wiped her tears and kissed her gently. "I'm so proud of you for telling me, Gina. I know it wasn't easy. But please, for the future, know that you can come to me for anything, baby. I won't judge."
The blonde nodded, burying her head in Y/N's neck. Y/N kissed her head and guided her back to her bed. Y/N laid back and pulled Regina into her arms. "I really care about you, Regina. All I want is for you to be happy."
And as Regina fully relaxed in Y/N's arms, she felt true happiness for the first time in her life.
Yeah, she could get used to this.
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shadowandlightt · 8 months
Text
Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3
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Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across. 
“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting. 
“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book. 
“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.” 
“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-” 
You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you. 
“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange. 
She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken. 
“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”
It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him 
To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this. 
“Please come home,” Mor begged. 
“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.” 
“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.” 
“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”
“What are you talking about?” She questions. 
“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.” 
“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.” 
“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.” 
You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart…everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop. 
Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother. 
“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.” 
Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”
“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.” 
“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers. 
You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time? 
You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you. 
“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.” 
You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done? 
“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”
“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes. 
“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”
She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left. 
You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years. 
You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick. 
Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back. 
No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame. 
You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened. 
“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”
“Enjoy.”
“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”
“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”
“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.” 
Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too. 
“I can’t come back.”
“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged. 
“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”
“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.” 
“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now. 
Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest. 
“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued. 
You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares. 
“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.” 
“Y/N-”
“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”
He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”
“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden. 
The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened. 
You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days. 
He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them. 
You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them 
“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.” 
“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”
The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones.  Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them. 
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around. 
A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill. 
As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life. 
Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him. 
There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”
It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being. 
“Az,” you cry out softly. 
He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him. 
“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.
“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in. 
He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay. 
He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back. 
“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.” 
Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.
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meazalykov · 12 days
Text
heart of gold
aitana bonmati x WAG!reader
summary: there's a big reason why you've fallen in love with her
warnings: angst, bronze medal match
a/n: the winner of the vote was this fic, here you go <3
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the roar of the crowd around you faded into the background as the final whistle blew. germany had secured the bronze medal, and spain was left with nothing. 
your stomach churned as you watched the spanish players slump to the ground, faces etched with exhaustion and disappointment. but your eyes were fixed on aitana.
there she was, the ballon d’or winner, the heart of the team, standing tall amid the wreckage. even as the loss sank in, she was comforting her younger teammates, cradling their heads against her chest as they sobbed. 
aitana wasn’t breaking — not yet, at least. that’s who she was. selfless, grounded, the strength for everyone else.
you watched as laura, laura freigang, asked aitana to swap shirts shortly after. the blonde wondered if it was too early to ask, but aitana gave her reassurance as she took the german shirt and gave laura the red spanish one. 
your hands gripped your camera, not sure if you should even take any pictures at this moment. 
your job as a sports photographer had brought you to moments like this, but this time was different. 
this time, it was personal. you’d met aitana through your work, and somewhere between the flashes of your camera and the interviews, you’d fallen in love with her. it wasn’t just her skill on the pitch that drew you in, though. it was the way she treated everyone — humble, kind, always thinking of others first.
but right now, all you wanted was for your girlfriend to think about herself, to let herself feel what she was bottling up. your chest tightened, wishing there was something you could do to take away the hurt she was surely feeling inside.
you glanced over at the germans celebrating. you’d worked with a few of them too, knew their faces, their stories. 
you were happy for them, but that happiness was muted by the pain you felt for aitana. she deserved something — something to show for the blood, sweat, and tears she’d put into this tournament.
finally, after what felt like an eternity, aitana’s gaze found yours. her eyes softened when she saw you, though she still wore that brave face for her team. 
she gave you a small nod, as if to say she was okay. but you knew better.
she finished speaking with her teammates and made her way over to you, the weight of the match clinging to her like a shadow. when she reached you, her shoulders were slumped, her walls still up.
“i’m sorry,” she said in english, voice low and strained.
“you don’t need to apologize, aitana. not for this.” you shook your head immediately, stepping closer, your hand gently brushing her arm. 
“it feels like i should,” she muttered, her voice trembling slightly. 
“i should’ve done more. i should’ve—”
“aitana, no,” you interrupted, squeezing her hand. 
“you did everything. you were incredible out there, like always. no one can take that away from you.”
“but it wasn’t enough. there is no medal.” her eyes flicked away, as if she couldn’t believe your words, as if the loss had clouded her judgment. 
“that’s not true,” you said firmly, lifting your hand to gently cradle her cheek, guiding her gaze back to yours. 
“you’ve done so much more than you realize. yes, the result sucks, but look at what you’ve accomplished. ballon d’or, you guys are the current world champions, and today, you were the one holding everyone together with alexia. you kept going, even when the team was falling apart. that’s worth more than any medal.”
aitana’s lips quirked into a small, sad smile, but the frustration was still there, simmering just below the surface. 
“i wanted something for them,” she whispered. “for the younger ones. i wanted them to have something to show for this.”
your heart ached as you saw the selflessness in her eyes. even now, she wasn’t thinking about herself. 
“they’ll have you to look up to, aitana,” you said softly. “you’re their role model. they’ll remember how you were there for them today, how you helped them through this. that’s something they’ll carry with them forever.”
finally, aitana’s shoulders slumped, the tension easing slightly as she let out a long, shaky breath. “i don’t know if that’s enough.”
“it is,” you assured her, your thumb brushing over her cheek. “you’re enough. always. not just to them, but for me.”
her eyes searched yours, and for the first time since the match ended, her walls began to crumble. 
the brave facade she’d been holding up for her teammates fell away, and you saw the hurt, the exhaustion, the vulnerability she’d been hiding.
“i just— i hate feeling like i failed,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, her head resting against your shoulder. 
“you didn’t fail. you’re not capable of failing. you’ve given everything to this sport, aitana, and it shows. maybe not today, but in the way you play, the way you lead, the way you care.”
she was quiet for a moment, her arms slowly wrapping around you in return. “you make it sound so easy,” she murmured, her breath warm against your neck.
“it’s not easy,” you said, running your fingers through her hair. “but it’s the truth. you are incredible, not just because of your awards. you’re incredible because you’ve got the biggest heart, aitana. you’ve always put others first, even when you didn’t have to.”
she pulled back slightly to look at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
“it’s okay,” you whispered, brushing your thumb across her cheek. “feel everything right now. but when you’re ready, remember what you’ve accomplished. remember how much you’ve given. and remember that, no matter what, you’re still the woman i fell in love with because of who you are, not what you’ve won.”
aitana finally let the tears fall, and you held her as she cried, her grip on you tightening. 
you didn’t care that you were still in the middle of the stadium, that people might be watching or snapping pictures. none of that mattered right now. what mattered was aitana, and being there for her the way she always was for everyone else.
“thank you,” she whispered after a while, her voice hoarse.
“always,” you replied softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i’m so proud of you. and i always will be.”
she gave you a small, grateful smile, her eyes still red but softer now. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
“lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out,” you teased gently, earning a quiet laugh from her.
aitana leaned into you again. you smiled knowing that she still had a bright future ahead of her.
you’ve always admired aitana and her heart of gold, you will never stop admiring it. its a big reason why you've fallen in love with her.
my masterlist is here if you want to read more!
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