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writing-fanics · 3 months

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Nothing lasts forever

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]

‘More than anything music box’

As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.

Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.

But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.

You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?

Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?

He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.

But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.

“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.

Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.

You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?

“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.

But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.

You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.

You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”

"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.

You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.

You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.

You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..

You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.

You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.

As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.

As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.

“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.

You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.

You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.

As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.

Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.

As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.

You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.

A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]

Taglist

@froggybich

#lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucfier x reader #x reader #fanfic #angst #romance #headcanons #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

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pxtched · 3 months

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NERD!MIGUEL X QUEENBEE!READER. NSFW DRABBLE - ‘Study night’

Miguel should’ve known it wouldn’t be a regular study night with you. He should’ve known it would’ve been something more than a study night like you said it was.

Books, pencils, clothing on the floor. You’re in your pink lingerie set in between his thighs. He’s naked on your bed, legs are spread wide open as you give him a handjob, edging him for what seems like forever.

He’s a whiny, sobbing mess. His glasses nearly falling off on his face as his face is flushed. You look at him, seeing him biting his bottom lip to muffle his whimpers and moans as tears fell down his face from his beautiful eyes.

You quicken your pace suddenly and he chokes up a loud moan, he throws his head back and closes his eyes as he moans out “I’m-I’m coming! ¡Oh-oh Dios! ¡joder! ¡Ya voy!” his hips thrusts up. Smirking at this sight and deciding he can hold on for a little bit more.

You stop your pace immediately, removing your hand from his overly sensitive dick and chuckle seeing his dick twitch. After a couple seconds after another ruined orgasm he looks back at you and whines more “why…” with a little pout you can’t help but feel bad for him.

You chuckle at him, “be patient, just wait until I tell you to come. you can do that right migs?” You coo at him with a small grin on your face. He pouts but nods. “Goood boy” you praised him and he let out a whimper, his dick twitched at it too.

You want back with your relentless pace but on his sensitive tip instead. His eyes shot open as his head immediately threw back, He was holding back whimpers and tried to hold on but the more you went. the more he couldn’t do it. He moaned out loudly, his hands grabbing the bedsheets tightly, his thighs tensing up, mouth open and his eyes rolling back as his hips starts thrusting up into your fist as he moaned out breathlessly “¡Joder-joder-joder!”

Before you can stop he came all over your hand and his lower abdomen, he groaned after his release and let out a whimper when you slap his dick for not coming when you said he could.

“You couldn’t even wait.” You scolded him as you get up from your bed he watches you with a pout on his face “lo siento…”

Tags! @ultravioletrayz , @safixiovi , @syler-griffin , @jadeloverxd , @rxckstarss (i figured you’ll like this!)

(nerd!miguel credit @nymphomatique )

Reblogs help a lot! Thank you and goodbye!

master-list _ guidelines/rules _ abt me !

#𝑷𝑿𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺.#sub miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv

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assassinsblade · 5 months

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Forget Me Not | 5

It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.

WC: 4.4k

Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!

a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

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Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?

He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.

He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.

"Az?"

Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-

"Feyre, get Madja."

Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.

"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.

Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.

"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"

Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.

He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.

The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.

"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.

"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"

He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...

"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.

As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.

It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.

Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.

Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.

He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.

He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.

Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.

His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”

He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.

“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”

Yeah, Rhys was not happy.

Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.

You’re no hero. You’re a joke.

Your hands are the ones hurting me.

That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.

“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.

He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.

“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.

Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.

“Who?”

Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.

Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”

“Does she know?”

He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”

He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.

"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.

"Enough."

His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."

Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."

"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."

Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."

"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."

Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."

He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.

“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”

Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”

The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.

Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.

Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.

But now with what you had said…

“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.

“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”

His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”

Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”

Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.

“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.

He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”

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You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.

Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.

Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.

The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.

You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.

You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…

The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.

The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.

And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.

You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.

And you hadn’t even meant them.

Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?

Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.

Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.

Did that not make you so much worse?

You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.

If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.

It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.

Azriel.

The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.

Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.

“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.

No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.

Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.

When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.

You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.

You killed him.

And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.

As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.

Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.

You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.

It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.

You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.

Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.

You nearly caved into yourself.

Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.

Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…

You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.

“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.

You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.

Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.

"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.

But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.

You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.

At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.

You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.

It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.

Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?

His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.

Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.

But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.

Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.

You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.

You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.

The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.

You hated yourself.

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In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.

She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.

The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.

Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.

“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”

You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.

You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.

“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.

You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”

“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”

Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.

“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”

Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.

“Sure. But you must be kind.”

You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.

But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.

You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.

But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.

Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.

First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.

Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.

I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.

I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.

Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.

You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.

Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.

Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.

In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.

I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.

You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.

Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.

Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.

You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.

And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.

#acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic

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miroana · 9 months

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Elite moments in the Odyssey

A curated selection of my favorite details in this silly epic that changed storytelling forever. Homer is hilarious.

- Whenever anyone asks Odysseus where he’s from and he seizes the opportunity to lie continuously for several pages.

- Victims of his elaborate, entirely false backstories include: the cyclops, the suitors, the swineherd, the goddess Athena (who immediately calls bull), his son, his wife, and his father. Odysseus just loves lying

- Every time Athena makes Odysseus hotter and taller so he can rizz someone up

- His brilliant strategy to survive Charybdis’ whirlpool (cling to fig tree “like a bat”)

- When Telemachus casually drops that he is well aware that Mentor is actually Athena and she pretends not to hear and continues to act like she’s just some guy

- When Odysseus falls asleep while the Phoenicians give him a lift home, and instead of waking him when they reach Ithaca, the sailors just pick up the corners of his blankets to dump him on the shore and leave

- Odysseus subsequently waking on a random beach and spending several pages violently confused until Athena, slapping her forehead, has to appear to tell him what’s going on

- Penelope’s weaving and unweaving of the tapestry to get out of marrying the suitors. it’s so stupid that it’s brilliant

- When Odysseus goes to the land of the dead and Achilles and Patroclus appear together <3

- That time Odysseus and Athena sit down on a rock together to plot and scheme etc

- When the maid who raised Odysseus recognizes the gigantic scar he used to always brag about and he grabs her by the neck and tells her to shut the hell up. Elegant elegant man

- Odysseus’s dog who stayed alive for over 20 years so he could lay eyes on him before dying on the spot

- Every time someone says bro you’re kind of hot for a beggar and Odysseus says yeah I know right?

- When Circe was like oh dude I can’t kill you? Guess I’ll sleep with you

- “‘You bitch!’ retorted the ready-witted Odysseus”

- Penelope later calls this maid a bitch too

- When Odysseus avoids competing in the Phoenician games until one of the Phoenicians calls him weak and lazy. so he thoroughly wipes the floor with them

- The sheer number of boats Odysseus crashed

- The sheer number of times Odysseus started sobbing in public

- When one of the Suitors smacks beggar Odysseus with a stool and it takes everything in him to not go insane on them

- Every time Odysseus anonymously gasses Odysseus up

- And last, but not in any way least, the Trojan horse plan. We all know it. We all love it. But take a step back and think for a moment how delightfully absurd it is

#the odyssey #odysseus #penelope #telemachus #athena #the iliad #homer #greek mythology #tagamemnon

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month

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Say Don't Go

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Summary: Nothing hurts more than the fear of losing you.

Warning: Angst. mentions of death, blood, gunshot

A/N: I wrote this in a haste, literally ten minutes ago, while listening to Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) by mother Taylor Swift. It's definitely not perfect, but I was definitely in the zone when I wrote it, lol.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

A gunshot.

Everything fades into a muffle. You blink once, twice, thrice... A wince connects your brows. As if you're figuring out if the oozing feeling on your abdomen should be causing you pain or ease.

Suddenly, Spencer's running to you. You think he's screaming. You hear nothing. There's only ringing in your ears. A thin, high-pitched ring that pierces through your brain.

You drop on the precinct's carpet floor, caressing your stomach like it's enough to stop yourself from bleeding out. You look at Spencer, "When'd you get here?" You ask, disoriented. You instantly pay attention to his watery eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You reach to cup his cheek. You are shocked when you see your hand covered in red, smearing the liquid on his skin. Your eyes widen, "Oh, my god?! You're hurt! Spence—" You try to sit up, but a wave of stinging pain makes you fall back in his arms.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?!" Spencer's voice echoes in the entire place. He turns to you, unsure if he is even allowed to have you in his arms. He doesn't dwell on it as he holds your hand on his cheek, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! Breathe for me, yeah? Stay with me." He swallows a sob, placing pressure on your abdomen. "Please, stay with me..."

"I'm hurt?" Stupor begins to steal you out of consciousness. You blink. A bright light blinds your vision.

Once you open your eyes, you're back in Spencer's apartment. He's standing across the room while your feet are rooted at the door. He doesn't look at you. No. He's afraid to look at you.

His hands are buried in his pockets. He's wearing a nice suit. Fitted just for him. His tie is a dark shade of purple. You gave him that tie for his birthday last year. It's loose. His hair is a mess. And his face... it's wet.

He's crying.

You're crying.

"I think you should go," Spencer takes a gulp as he stares at the floor. Like it'd kill him if he looked at you.

You inhale deeply, sniffing as you wipe a tear with the back of your hand, "We don't have to do this, Spence. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do!" For the first time in what feels like forever, he finally lifts his gaze at you. His hazel eyes are rimmed with red heat, overflowing with tears. He's hurt. He's hurt, too.

"Is it really that horrible to love me?" You sob. You can hear your heart slowly shatter. Pins and needles knock on your chest. You wonder if you're still breathing right. "Am I that ugly—"

"You know that's not true, sweetheart." You hate that the nickname gives you butterflies. How his words, awful and insensitive, still made you attentively listen. How his voice still makes you want to hear more. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Then why?!" You felt like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why are you putting a distance between us?" You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering. "Why is it such a crime to be together?"

Spencer shifts his gaze to somewhere else. He runs a hand through his hair. You notice the coffee stain at the cuff of his sleeve. Then, you see the smudge of red lipstick past the line of his lips. Your red lipstick. He bought that lipstick a few months ago. No reason. Just for the fun of it.

Is it bad that you think he still looks handsome under the sun's setting light? Even when his hair is arrayed in different directions? Even when his face is drenched with his own tears?

He breathes deeply, audibly, "We're in the same line of work. You know better than to think we're going to work. News flash, sweetheart. It won't. It's not worth it." He can't look at you. He's ashamed to look at you.

"Not... worth it?" You blink. You stare at him with disgust, "So— So what? We're nothing, but we fuck? We're nothing, but we flirt? We're nothing, but you love me? Please, explain it to me because I'm having a difficult time understanding the stupid shit of a point you're making."

Spencer gulps for the nth time, "You love me."

"What?" You regret wanting to meet his eyes because now that he's staring at yours with such unfamiliarity, it hurts.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything."

You're definitely not breathing right.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Inhale, exhale... Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. Just follow me." Spencer holds your hand tight as the paramedics do their best to stop you from bleeding out. His voice sounds heartbreaking.

His voice...

You blink. Your hearing's back. You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling as he does. You feel lightheaded, like you're floating on a cloud.

Spencer keeps his and your hands intertwined. He follows while the paramedics roll you into the ambulance. "Hang in there, sweetheart. Please, hang in there." His face is a mess. He doesn't stop crying, swallowing his sobs.

You smile into the oxygen mask, blinking. You're on the verge of dying, and yet you find humor in knowing Spencer's tells. "You swallow when you're scared... don't be scared, Spence." You say it in broken words and in an almost soundless voice.

"I'm not," He denies, wiping his tears aggressively. He is. He's scared to the bone.

"The bullet shattered to her chest," The paramedic who inspects your chest claims, looking at her partner with worry.

"W-what?" Spencer stutters, stealing a glimpse down your neck. "No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me." He sees the way you flutter your eyes, fighting to stay conscious, listening to his pleas. And how you suddenly stopped, never opening your eyes back up. "Don't— Don't close your eyes! Sweetheart, please don't go. Please, don't—" He looks up at the sound of your vitals plummeting. He quickly looks back at your face, saying your name like it's a prayer.

The machine flatlines, and the paramedic pushes Spencer aside to perform resuscitation. "Sir, let us do our job." One of them says, two inches deep as she manually restarts your heart.

Spencer shoves himself in the corner of the ambulance. He wraps his arms around him. "Please, don't go..." His voice cracks and transitions into writhing sobs as he watches your body go limp with each surge of electricity that shocks your skin.

Then he thinks of that night.

He thinks of the image of you standing by the door. You don't want to go. He doesn't want you to go.

But you have to... because if you don't, he'll run to you and never let you go. So, he tells you to leave. You protest.

So stubborn. He cries in his head, wishing that you hadn't made things difficult for being so beautiful even when you're crying.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything." His body shakes on the spot. His mouth goes dry. His chest compresses. He lies through his teeth.

Spencer saw the way your face turned into a ghost. He's done it.

He broke you.

He hurt you.

No turning back. No way of fixing it.

"Ah..." You say softly, nodding. "Checks out." You add without a sign of sarcasm. You stare into the air for a minute. You let the silence hover and hunt Spencer for a moment. You let him realize the pain, the stupidity of it all. "I think I should leave..." Your eyes say otherwise.

Please say, "Don't go." Tell me not to leave. Run to me... please.

You wonder if he knows it or chooses to ignore the way you held your tears. If he caught on all your tells. Because you knew he wasn't true. You knew he knew that you could read him like the back of your hand.

"Yeah," Spencer straightens his back, "I think you should."

You purse your lips into a thin line and nod, "Okay," You turn around. You take three seconds to grab the knob, but when the time has run out, you are out in a heartbeat.

"Spencer."

JJ appears in Spencer's vision. "Spencer, are you okay?" Her face was covered with worry as she placed two hands on his shoulders. She exchanges looks with Derek and Aaron.

They were there when it all went down. When the unsub came out of nowhere and started shooting. You were the first shot.

Spencer cranes his neck around. He's in the waiting room. He doesn't remember when or how he got there. All he remembers is the defibrillator jolting your unresponsive body more than once. His eyes widen. He says your name in haste as he stands up, "Where is she? Where— Where..."

Derek holds him back, "She's in surgery, Reid. Did you forget?" He asks, gently pushing Spencer back onto his seat.

"She was dead for three minutes... They couldn't find a pulse for three minutes." Spencer announces at a loss. He looks down at his hand, at the cheap friendship bracelet around his wrist. The one you made in your first year with the team as a last-minute birthday gift. He breaks into a sob, covering his eyes as if to push them back inside his tear ducts.

"So?" Derek catches Spencer's hands off his face, "She's been in surgery for thirty minutes. Her heart started beating again, and it had been for thirty minutes. She's fighting, man. At least fight with her before you wallow like a ninny."

"Morgan," Aaron warns but silently agrees.

You're fighting for your life, so they should, too.

You're not ready to go.

You don't want to go.

Spencer nods and wipes his face. He sniffs and takes a deep breath. He glances at the door to the operating room like he has x-ray vision, "Don't go."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminalminds #ssa spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencerreid #fem!reader #cm #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

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lady-ashfade · 8 months

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Yan!Mother!Alicent targaryen x Crybaby!Fem!Reader. Vs other Yandere house of the dragon characters.

Just a small idea for the AI picture, it gave me a few ideas and might write more.

Warnings: Yandere content, bullying to get attention, reader being a massive cry baby

The sound of bare feet echo through the halls and many people gasp as a child runs passed them. The young princess covered in mud and her dress ripped, her eyes rolling with tears as she sobs. Her body hit a few on the way but kept running up the stairs to find her mother or anyone she can. The boys had pushed her in the mud when she asked to play, they had never been so cruel to her before. Her sweet nephews were always so kind and let her do what she wanted, but Aegon had always made fun and poked at her. The young girl made her way to the floor, she didn’t care about the meeting and all she wanted was her mother.

Pushing open the door she ran into the room and stoped to look around for her mother. The table turned quickly and their eyes widen in shock and confusion. “My dear girl,” Alicent stood up immediately and pushed her chair to the side and rushed over to her crying daughter, “What’s has happened.” The mother bend down and rubbed the mud off her face. The girl just continues to sob and wail. Viserys stood up at the table, Rhaenrya feeling sick and waiting for her moment to comfort the sweet girl. “It- It was Jace, Luke and Aegon.” She stuttered with her small voice.

“They pushed me into the mud, and I ripped my dress falling all on it.”

Rhaenrya placed a hand on her belly at the image of her boy’s hurting you. She raised them well and they wouldn’t do that, at least on their own since they loved you so much. Alicent pulled her closer and kissed her forhead even if it was still dirty. “We are to have a meeting later about what happened after she is cleaned and calm.” The queen stood up and looked at her husband and then glared at rhaenrya. “Your boys will be there.” All Viserys could do was sigh and rub his face. He dismissed the council, rhaenrya looked at her father but he shrugged and agreed with Alicent.

The princess was bathed fully and placed in her favorite dress, her mother getting her all her favorite food and treats. Aemond found out and hugged his sister while she continued to cry about how she didn’t know what she did. Aemond was furious how they picked on his perfect sister. As they awaited for rhaenrya and her children the princess hugged her mother tight and refused to let go. Alicent was ready to behead them all or exile them since they dare hurt her child. Then Aegon…who had puffed red cheeks from a slap he earned from his mother, and getting screamed at by his father too. He stayed quiet and looked down.

As soon as Rhaenrya entered with her sons the room shifted into a deep tension between everyone. You still stood by your mother and cling to her dress, too upset to look at your nephews eyes. Aemond walked closer and beside you, placing a hand on your head as you sniffled. Alicent looked at the young boys and then to their mother with a suspicious glare on what she would do. “Tell me boys, why have would you do such a thing.” The queen asked them. Their eyes shifted from the queens to her eldest son who refused to look up feeling their presence.

“The boys have said that it was a way they could earn her affection. I believe the words spoken to them were “Treat a woman rough and like a toy and they’ll be forever grateful.” along those lines. And I do believe your son, Aegon told them so.” Alicent looked over at Aegon. She had just got done dealing with him and now this? “It was just a bit of teasing, we did not think she’d actually fall and get hurt.” Alicent fumed and the mouth and tried to control herself again. Jace and Luke looked at the princess head and tried not to cry. Luke started to tear up at the memory of her crying and screaming, Jace couldn’t believe he was mean to her. Even if it was to get her affection.

“You’ll all apologize to her, now! Do you understand me? I shall speak to the king for a harder punishment for this acted but for now you can no longer see her.” Rhaenrya gasped and looked at the sweet princess she loved. When if Alicent was her mother she still had no right. The boys pouted. “My queen, please rethink-” Alicent stopped her by lifting you up and turned your face around to reveal the smallest cut on your chin that was once covered by mud. “She is injured. There are bruises already showing up and the maesters tell me she could have broken a arm! So no, I do not think I will reconsider.” Luke was the first toe break.

“We are truly sorry, Y/n. It was never intended for you to get hurt we promise.” He cried as his brother agreed beside him. You look at the boys crying and apologizing for your forgetfulness that it makes you forgive them a bit. “I- I forgive you.” You mumble so soft before turning away and back into your mother’s embrace while still being mad at them. Thought you didn’t fully forgive them it was a start and you expected their apology. They could make it up to you soon if they can see you again. Aemond looked at the crying boys and smirks a bit while reaching for his sister to pull her into his arms. The princess expected his gesture and wrapped her arms around him for comfort.

Rhaenrya looked at Alicent who stared back at her. The boys all looked at each other with glares over the princess. Aegon who hated that he would hurt his precious sister who was the only one nice to him.

#yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader #yandere alicent hightower #yandere rhaenrya targaryen #yandere jacaerys velaryon #yandere lucerys velaryon #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere team green #yandere team black

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scarletssienna · 3 months

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Beggin' for Footnotes

Summary - Some things aren’t meant to last forever. And despite you and Wanda loving each other you’re not sure if it’s going to work out anymore. 4.0k word count

Warnings - Hurt (not much comfort), heavy angst, swearing, mommy Wanda, oral, fingering, face slapping, sub!reader, degradation, praise, begging, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, hair pulling, mean Wanda, edging, face-sitting, thigh riding

AN - This is my first post on here! I’ve done writings in the past but I thought I’d try a new format and space to post it! :)) I plan on continuing this if I can find the energy lol!

Part 2

18+, minors + men dni

Not every love was supposed to last. No matter how great, how wonderful, sometimes things still end. You knew Wanda like the back of your hand. And she knows you all the same. So when one of her vices came up after one of your worst fights, you could only watch. Wanda stood out on the back porch. Cigarette between her two fingers as she stared off into the darkness. There was this empty sickening in both of your stomachs that this may be the end. At this point, all options and solutions had been exhausted. You knew it was time. You watched out the kitchen window, unable to tear your eyes away as she slowly inhaled before a large cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, the cold temperatures enhancing it. Your fingers squeezed the sponge from the sink as soapy water flooded between your fingers. The dishes had been long forgotten lately as neither of you had had the energy to wash them. This was unusual for Wanda as she liked to keep the house showroom ready at all times. You forcefully ripped your eyes away from her as you began to wash the dishes, trying to make up for anything you could. To fix what you could in this messy situation.

The house that had once been so loud with laughter and joy now lingered in empty silence. Your playlist of every song you two had loved played softly over the speakers around the house. If it had been several months ago you would have pulled her closely in your arms, dancing around the kitchen despite her laughs and teases about how cheesy it was. Her nose would crinkle as you sang along in Sokovian to one of her favorite songs. You butchered the pronunciation, but you would try, she could tell. She would have given in eventually and threaded her hands in your hair as she rested her forehead against yours. You would have kissed her, kissed her as if she was going to leave the second you let go. In this reality, she very well might.

You watched out the window again for a moment before getting distracted by the dish you were washing. The knife in your hands harshly tore against your flesh and you quickly dropped the knife into the sink, a soft yelp leaving your lips. You backed away quickly as blood began to drip down your hand. It was a quick scramble for the kitchen towel as you tried to stop the bleeding. Wanda had always been there to comfort you when you were injured in the past. You bit the inside of your cheek trying to stop it as tears quickly began to fall on your face. You let off a soft sob as you abandoned the dishes, heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. Hurrying into the bathroom you discarded the bloodied towel onto the sink countertops and washed the wound before messily bandaging it up. You had never been very good at doing it yourself so Wanda had always insisted on caring for you but you didn't think that was very well an option at this point.

Tears flooded down your face as the events from the night tore your heart into shreds. You were no longer crying due to the injury. It was a different kind of pain. You stumbled over to the bed and threw your pants onto the floor before climbing into your side of the bed. The sheets were quickly pulled up to your chin as your hand covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs. Quickly, you drifted off into a tired and pained sleep.

When Wanda returned inside she hadn't expected to see dishes washed especially as she investigated further and saw the drops of blood on the floor and a bloody knife in the sink. Despite the fight, she still cared and loved you. She quickly rushed upstairs in an attempt to find you. When she noticed the door slightly ajar and silence in the room she quietly peaked her head in. She sighed relieved when she saw you asleep in bed, seemingly uninjured from her view. The smell of cigarettes covered her and she wandered quietly off to the bathroom to take a shower, shutting the bathroom door behind her. For everyone but you her walls were high. She hardly let anyone in. and when she did, it felt as if it always ended this way. The feeling of being cursed towards relationships had set in. She washed her hair, going over the fight in her head as she wondered what could have gone differently, how she could save it. If it was even worth it at this point.

Tensions had been rising over the past couple of weeks. You both had been working too much recently and had hardly had time for one another. It seemed as if every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, sleep, repeat. It had been killing you both. The littlest things set you both off. It would end up in screaming matches and sleeping alone every time. What set you both over the edge this time was not so little. Natasha, your mutual friend, had begun flirting with you. While she respected your relationship, she had always believed you two were not good for each other. So when you fought last week and you ended up at her house she had done nothing but comfort you. You thought nothing of Natashas' intentions but Wanda knew otherwise. This had sent her into a fit of rage when Natasha dropped you off this morning and kissed your cheek goodbye.

You both fought for hours, arguing about anything that came to mind, but mainly Natasha. Had you understood and been able to read her mind as well, you would have understood her intentions and sided with Wanda, not seeing Natasha anymore. But you couldn't and this frustrated Wanda. When she attempted to control your mind you quickly noticed and this sent you two further down the line of fighting. You hated it when she used her powers on you. When you thought to yourself that you wished you could just forget everything that had happened Wanda broke. She had misunderstood. Thinking you had meant forgetting her. Silence fell over the fight and she went outside to have a cigarette. Her thoughts consumed her as her heart hurt.

With how often the fights had been recently as well as how busy you've been, you'd not been intimate in weeks. The tension begins to tear you both apart. When she finished her shower she pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts before popping her head out the bathroom door to check if you were still sleeping. When she saw you, she had to determine what to do. Did she sleep with you? Or did she go to the guest room? She decided that you wouldn't want her in bed and quietly tip-toed to the guest room based on what she had misunderstood. That night she cried herself to sleep as well.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

When you woke up the next morning you sat up groggily and sighed to yourself as you didn't see Wanda in bed, the memories of the night prior sinking in. Despite your anger you went to see where she had slept for the night, mostly just wanting to make sure she hadn't ended up locked out on the porch freezing to death. You saw her asleep in the guest room, her makeup smudged and muddled from tears, and her shower. You sighed and went back to your room to get ready for the day. It was unusual for you to be up first and you made use of it, quietly leaving for work before she awoke.

You returned home late that night, having gone to the bar after work with a few co-workers to unwind and relax. All you could think about was Wanda and the ache between your legs grew. You were mad, but maybe you needed that. You quietly entered the house, making a note to lock the door behind you before heading to find Wanda. You weren't extremely intoxicated, but the anger, lack of quality sleep, stress, and tequila were having a bit of an impact. You could tell she had been home for a couple of hours, the discarded takeout garbage by the trash. Suddenly she caught your eye outside on the back porch. Of course, she was smoking again. You thought to yourself before acting on impulse. You went to the door and harshly pulled the sliding door open. She let out a startled gasp that didn't happen often as she always seemed aware of your presence.

“Get inside.” You said firmly in a tone that had been unusual for you to take on with her. You had always been the more submissive in the relationship. The words shocked you both a little. She obliged anyway, out of more surprise than anything. She put the cigarette out before coming inside. You shut the door behind her, looking into her eyes before quickly pressing her against the door in a bruising kiss. She yelped out of surprise before kissing back, her hands tangling into your hair. She ignored the taste of tequila on your lips as she knew she tasted like cigarettes and couldn't defend herself for that.

You made quick work of snaking your hand underneath her shirt, groping her chest as your tongues began to fight. She had never seen this level of dominance out of you. While it surprised and intrigued her, she couldn't have it. You both knew you were just trying to get a reaction out of her as it had been entirely too long since you two had done anything together. Her hand tightened with a grip of your hair as she roughly pulled your head back, quickly beginning to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a moan as she tugged at your hair, stumbling backward slightly as she pushed you off of her.

“Upstairs. “ She muttered firmly. You could see the darkness in her eyes and did not question it, quickly moving upstairs to your room. The past few weeks your dynamic had been shallow and lacking. You both needed rules in life. You need a guideline to follow, and she needs an outlet of control. When you got upstairs you looked around the room, taking several deep breaths before going to crack a window to get some airflow. Your jaw clenched as you took a few deep breaths trying to focus on relaxing. You closed the curtains forcefully, a little too forcefully perhaps as they, along with the curtain rod came tumbling down. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall as you knew Wanda would be mad. As you heard her footsteps approach you quickly tugged off your shirt, tossing it in a pile alongside your discarded pants. You had already dug your grave and it was getting deeper. Thoughts raced through your head about what punishment would come. The more you thought the more your legs pressed together for any kind of release you could gain. Just as you sat down on the bed the door swung open. “What the hell was that?” She asked. Her voice was angry and her accent began to peak through her words as she spoke. Her head quickly turned and noticed the window. “Did you do this?” she asked in almost a patronizing tone. She knew you did it, the guilt on your face was obvious.

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth as she spoke, gnawing on it nervously as you considered your options. Slowly, you shook your head, the hesitation clear as tears brimmed your eyes. She walked over to you, one eyebrow raised in a way that she knew made you weak in the knees. She raised her hand before a loud echoing slap hit your cheek. You let out a moan and pressed your legs together harder as tears finally fell. “Lying gets you nowhere. I'll ask you again, Detka.” she paused, faining tenderness as she wiped a tear away from your face. “Did you do this?” every word she spoke was drawn out and stern as she raised her eyebrow and held your chin in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. Slowly you began to nod, bracing yourself for the slap you knew was about to come. When she raised her hand a slap did not come. Instead, she giggled at your flinch and reached down, snapping your bra snap on your shoulder. “This is what happens when little girls try to do things that are too big for them,” she spoke slowly, making sure each word sunk in. “You didn't even have time to fully undress for Mommy.” she shook her head and snapped your bra strap once again before pushing you to lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of you, straddling one of your thighs as she ground her hips, working herself up.

“Please Mommy,” you whined out softly as your hips raised into her, begging for any amount of pleasure you could get. Another slap fell hard across your cheek and you felt your thoughts slowly drift further into a fuzzy headspace. You moaned at the feeling. Her hand was wet from the tears that had fallen down your face and she made it a point to wipe her hand on your bare stomach.

“I didn’t permit you to speak. Did I?” She asked firmly as she leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. You shook your head frantically as you struggled to keep your hands by your sides. She slid her hands back up your stomach and muttered under her breath. “Good girl.” Before pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts. She wasted no time as she quickly kissed down towards your chest, taking the small bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around your nipple as her hand snaked down into your panties, finally touching you where you needed it most. She gasped dramatically and pulled her head up, locking eyes with you when she felt your wetness. Your face turned a deep shade of red as she proceeded to tease and taunt you for how wet you had been at her from only just slapping and teasing you. All of your thoughts were consumed by her in a fuzzy bliss.

Without warning she slipped two fingers inside of you easily. Her fingers made quick work of pumping in and out, stretching and curling them just where you needed it most. You moaned loudly and wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her body closer to you as you hid your face in her shoulder, biting down softly on the tender flesh. This depicted a soft moan from Wanda as her hips jerked slowly against your thigh. She pulled her body back with a grin as she began to bite softly across your jaw.

“Let me see your pretty face baby. I want to see you while I fuck you.” She said her fingers worked faster, her thumb reaching up to touch your throbbing clit. You blushed red as you looked into her eyes. The moon was shining through the window casting a moonlit glow across her face, a smirk forming across it. Just as quickly as she worked you up to an orgasm, she stopped. She pulled her hand away quickly and you found yourself frantically reaching for her wrist as your hips jerked underneath her.

“No! Mommy!” You yelled out exasperated as tears fell quickly from your eyes at the loss of sensation. She smirked down at you, her tongue slowly licking her lips.

“You didn't think I'd let you cum that quickly after what a brat you've been the past few weeks little girl?” She asked in a patronizing manner as she pulled her hand out of your panties and brought her fingers to her lips. You moaned at the sight, her tongue licking her fingers clean, making a show of the process. Her fingers then slid into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of your arousal mixed with her. Your tongue swirled around her fingers as you proceeded to suck her fingers.

“Please Mommy.” was all you could seem to muster out after she pulled her fingers out of your mouth. Your mind was clouded and fogged and just where Wanda wanted it.

“Silly me,” she smiled as she looked down. “Mommy has been giving you all the pleasure, she completely forgot to undress.” she motioned towards her clothes before standing up. You groaned and reached for her when she stood, no longer touching you. You let out a soft murmur as your hands grabbed at her shirt, pressing your legs together. She stripped before walking back towards you. She tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them towards the pile of clothes before doing the same with your bra. You couldn't help but notice the wetness that had soaked Wanda's panties and now glistened her thighs. Your mouth watered at the sight as all you wanted to do was taste her.

You knew how often you had fought lately and how the arguments left you due for punishment. You just weren't exactly sure what form it would take. Anticipation flooded through your body as you looked up into her eyes, your eyes wide and innocent.

“You're going to eat me out until I cum, maybe then I'll give you what you want,” she stated firmly as she squeezed at your hips. Her touches were not gentle. Her fingers dug into your tender flesh, all of her anger, stress, and tension coming out onto you. You moaned at the touch, more sensitive and aware with each touch and mark she left across your body. She let go with a slap to your thigh and you groaned at the loss of her. You sat up and watched as she moved around the room, sitting on the bed in the middle, spreading her legs for you as she watched with dark eyes. “Come make Mommy feel good.” Her voice dripped with arousal as her words of encouragement enticed you further, not that it took much at this point though.

Quickly you moved and settled yourself between her legs. You slowly began kissing up her thighs, licking the path of arousal she had left for you. She grumbled impatiently above you, clearly already ready for attention where she needed it. Her hand snaked through your hair, gently at first as it stroked your scalp. She then grabbed a fistful, tugging your hair harshly as she forced you up higher, pushing your head between her legs. At the tug, you let out a loud moan as you cursed under your breath. You got the hint and stuck out your tongue quickly getting work between her legs. Your tongue licked up her slit before it brought fast attention to her clit. You brought your fingers up and slipped two fingers inside of her. You were kinder than Wanda had been to you, moving your fingers less harshly and aggressively. It worked nonetheless as she quickly rose to an orgasm with the combination of both your fingers and tongue. Her grip on your hair did not loosen as her hips began to jerk against your face. As she reached her peak she let out a loud moan, her hips moving frantically as she tugged harshly at your hair. The taste that hit your tongue made you moan as you quickly lapped up as much as she would allow before pulling your head away.

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath, a gentler hand moving to your neck. You leaned up her body as you kissed her passionately. When her tongue slid across your bottom lip and your mouth you eagerly allowed it entrance. A smile grew across her face as she pulled away. You whined at the loss but it was quickly relieved when she pressed a singular finger to your lips.

“Mommy.” You moaned out as your hips began to grind against her stomach. Her hand snaked down her stomach to touch you, her fingers ghosting over your clit.

“Come sit on my face Detka.” She said firmly as she adjusted her positioning, letting your thighs rest next to her head. You were hesitant yet eager as you slowly lowered yourself down, moaning loudly as her tongue finally made contact. Your hips jerked against her face as you ground against her tongue. You were worked up quickly, faster than ever as she seemed to know exactly where you needed it. She mumbled out from underneath you as she worked you up towards an orgasm. “Beg for it, Malyshka.”

Quickly words began to tumble out of your mouth as desperation to cum was needed. “Please, Mommy. Please!” You practically yelled as your hips jerked more, her nails digging into your thighs. “Please let me cum.” You begged. She complied with a grin.

“Cum for Mommy, Detka.” She said as her tongue moved rapidly beneath you. Instantly you reached your peak, reaching for the bead frame in front of you to steady yourself as you moaned loudly. When Wanda felt you had settled enough she gently pulled you down next to her and into her arms. You shook a little in Wanda's arms as she held you for the first time in weeks. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she slowly combed through the mess she had made, taking time to massage your scalp. All the thoughts of your fights had completely melted away and you were consumed by her and her embrace.

“Mommy.” You murmured as tears began to fall on your cheeks again, your face nuzzling closely in the crook of her neck.

“You did so good baby, so good.” She praised quietly as she kissed behind your ear. Her fingertips found a gentle pattern of scratching up and down your back with one hand while the other massaged where she pulled your hair. Praise was whispered into your ear as she held you closely, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Slowly your sobs calmed and you settled into her embrace, slowly lifting your head to leave soft kisses across her jaw and neck.

“I love you, Wanda.” The words left your mouth for the first time in weeks and a soft smile crept across your lips. Wandas' face glimmered with love as she pulled you into a kiss.

“I love you too, Detka.” She whispered through kisses as she could only hold you closer. After a while of the silent embraces Wanda's thoughts of the fights crept back into memory. “We’re going to be okay.” She hesitated and looked towards you. “Right?” She spoke softly, her voice filled with fear at the thought of losing you. You nodded and kissed her softly, your mind foggy and cloudy as all you wanted was to be close to her. That night you slept close, tangled up in each other's love, neither wanting to pull away.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next morning when you woke up snuggled up in Wanda's arms felt different. The bliss that usually followed had dissipated and all you could think about was the pain of being with her. You gained a sinking pit in your stomach as guilt and fear coursed through your body. The flight response kicked in. You couldn't be with her, not now. Tears began to fall as you quickly but carefully left the bed and Wanda's embrace. Hurriedly you moved for some clothes as you threw on the closest things you could find without waking her. You reached for the door handle but paused. One glance back to Wanda confirmed it. You couldn't be here. So where did you go? Who greeted you with open arms? Natasha.

#wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #marvel #wanda #mommy wanda #smut #hurt/comfort #angst #wanda x reader #wandavision #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wandanat #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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wizardrousactivity · 2 months

Text

The Rat, Dead Dog.

“I’ve told you, it’s not me-” — You were trained to never fall under pressure, your pleas falling under his deaf ears. Another cut to your calf when he doesn’t hear you forthwith giving up the information, it doesn’t matter how desperate you sound, nobody is here to save you anymore. They can’t trust you anymore.

He’s trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel bad, that he’s only doing his friends a favor. Getting rid of you for good - dispensing with the waste of the world, which unfortunately had to be you, didn’t it? The only person that he thought he could trust, you bewitched him. The mask had slipped off because of you, the imperfections were perfected because of you. Now it’s only a cold shoulder - if he’d even give you that. “Give us the fucking information,” The use of your moniker is the way he’d gain your sultry glare.

You’ve been beaten and battered for days by Simon, and it still feels like months the longer his torture traverses. The metal of the chair you sit on starting to turn red with gore. You fear to lose yourself, if not for the keen rage that fumes, revenge written on its blemishes. “I don’t have the information you want.” You never thought you’d be in such a position with him, a foolish hound falling victim to your framing.

It’s surprising you weren’t immediately cut off with another lash, the gash he’s continuously spread starting to reach your bone, you dread the stinging of your flesh, held back by a grunted-sob. For only a second you see his gaze soften with emotion he lacked, like he truly wanted to believe you, and by-god did he wish to - in the event that the threads didn’t lead to you. He swallows.

There’s too much evidence against you, and his team. His own pathetic feelings aren’t worth the risk of keeping you around, he doesn't think he could handle having you captive with them for long, holding a rat that was dressed up with a story just to use them, use him after everything that happened. The sight would haunt him if you weren’t gone, the weight of his loved one turning out to be a spy, living in a room on base.

The depravity of reality sets on him now, painfully dawning on him.

He needs to dispose you. For everybody’s sake.

His hand white-knuckles around the knife, your chest tightens while the behemoth starts to stand to his full stature - an unpredictable mongrel you can only imagine what is coming next, his dilating pupils trembling as he looks at you with terror. The task of your murder would save his mates, and eat him from the inside once he was finished. If there is no information you have to spout - you are better useful dead to them, they could get it themselves. “Simon..” There's no response from him. You are not needed anymore. Don’t make it painful.

Yet you’re saved by the bell, his head turning as the call from the mohawk is made. Shouting for his arrival with urgency. You only look to the floor as footsteps echo, signifying his leave for the day. "Fuck you."

The gashes in your legs have pooled themselves and made home around your feet, cold air running along the insides of your flesh, and you shudder against your constraints - the feeling is enough to make you nauseous with the sensory you experience. There’s nothing for you to throw up anyway, if there was, it would be your intestines.

Your heart cinches, as you sit there with the thought of having to live with the fact you’ve been framed, then to die known as the rat in 141, that’s all you’ll ever be now. You’re just another damaged dog, you’ve joined their cult of forever deprecating. Their muffled banter plays beside your ear as you weep.

You’ve accepted that your funeral won’t be made, that nobody will ever honor your death or mourn during it.

#call of duty #cod angst #cod x reader #simon riley angst #cod simon riley #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #does it hurt?

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wcters · 2 months

Text

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗚 𝟮𝟬

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: you turn 20 and your friends post for your birthday

warnings/notes: established relationship, this is more of a filler/something to read while i work on the podcast imagine. i’ve just been super busy. there might be a couple more posts before the podcast one 🤍

matthew.sturniolo

liked by yourusername, christophersturniolo, and 494,937 others

matthew.sturniolo my baby’s not a baby anymore! love you so much 🤍 can’t wait to put up with more of your antics

tagged @yourusername

view 3,083 comments

yourusername i love you sm 🤍🤍

user they’re too cute i can’t

↳ user i know right?

christophersturniolo happy birthday! cheers to 20 🥂

user i’m not a matt girl, i’m a y/n girl

nicolassturniolo soo cutee

↳ user 🥺🥺

user he loves her so much, you can just tell

↳ user i wish someone loved me like they love each other ‼️

nathandoe8 happy birthday! come visit boston again soon

user cutest caption ever

user crying rn 😭😭

user sobbing. laughing. on the floor.

↳ user me too

nicolassturniolo

liked by yourusername, matthew.sturniolo, and 236,072 others

nicolassturniolo it’s my best friends birthdayyy! forever thanking the world for making you move to la so we could meet. thank you for introducing me to tim hortons (the smile cookie is my fav pic) can’t wait to spend so many more birthdays together

tagged @yourusername

view 2,937 comments

yourusername nick i love you 🤍 you really outed me on this one though

↳ nicolassturniolo it’s what best friends do 🤷

user i want nick to be my best friend

naileadevora happy birthday babe!

↳ yourusername i miss you sm!

user our canadian girlie

user you know she’s going to get so drunk the next time she vists canada 💀

matthew.sturniolo spongebob fit 🔛🔝

user first pic is eatinggg

ariana_greenblatt y/n is living the world slay

↳ user toooo true

user shes so prettyyyy

user minion face masks go hard ‼️‼️

user happy birthday

christophersturniolo

liked by yourusername, larray, and 376,982 others

christophersturniolo happy birthday y/n. praying that you get better sleep while you’re 20 so you don’t fall asleep everywhere like you do now 🙏🙏

tagged @yourusername

view 3,297 comments

yourusername this should be a crime. i don’t sleep everywhere

↳ nicolassturniolo you do though…

↳ matthew.sturniolo we have soooo many pictures

↳ yourusername jail.

larray sis really needs that sleep. anyway, happy birthday <3

↳ yourusername love you 🤍

user she’s so real for that though

user chris really said “i got proof”

tarayummy miss you pretty girl 🤍 you can always nap here and we can celebrate

↳ yourusername omw

user 🙏🙏🙏

nathandoe8 she tired of dealing with you

↳ christophersturniolo 😀😀

↳ user were you silent? or silenced?

yourusername

liked by matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, and 129,244 others

yourusername the big 20 🥂

view 2,197 comments

matthew.sturniolo happy birthday baby 🤍

↳ yourusername thank you ☺️🤍

user her and matt are sooo cute

christophersturniolo 🐐🐐

user wish i went 😔😔

nathandoe8 party was awesomee 🔥🔥

nicolassturniolo cutest girl

madisonbeer happy birthday!

ariana_greenblatt birthday girllll 🤍

user ILY

user girl really living the y/n life

↳ yourusername literally 🤭🤫

tarayummy party was so good! loved celebrating such a big day with you

↳ yourusername marry me 💍

user they are eating those pictures upp

user i don’t know if i want to be y/n or matt

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actual-changeling · 6 months

Text

i crave the emotional catharsis that would come with crowley taking care of his plans, in so much pain but swallowing it down and pretending it's not real, finally having the mental breakdown he deserves.

he's taking care of his plants, a detached look on his face, misting them and making sure they're all healthy and have enough space to grow. after he returned, he stopped talking to them for the most part. they welcomed him back, they had missed him—shax is not the nicest or most interesting company to keep—and now they're worried.

crowley sleeps, paces, mists his plants, gets drunk, and sleeps some more. everything to stop feeling. until he sees a leaf spot on one of them. a tiny imperfection, barely worth a shout, and yet.

a tremor works it way through him, his knees always giving out, and he presses one palm against the wall to keep himself upright. wave after wave of shame, bright and stabbing in the middle of his chest, reminds him why he left.

not good enough.

crowley had tried, someone knows he tried. it's hard to regain a soul, harder yet to shape it into something worth loving, someone worth living for, but he had tried.

his fingers curl around the pot and before he can stop himself he flings it across the room, listening to it shatter. can't even do that right, can he? can't raise fucking plans, can't keep his STUPID mouth shut, can't make him stay because who would want to be stuck with him forever? no one, that's who, and after six thousand years, aziraphale had seemingly reached his blessed limit and taken the first chance to leave.

another plant follows with a scream, dirt and broken stems covering the floor and staining the walls, and then another and another and another until he can fall to his knees amidst the ruins of his life.

clay shards are cutting his palms open as he doubles over, sobs wrecking through him like thunder, and his tears carve clean paths down his dirty hands.

"i tried," he whispers, voice hoarse from yelling, "i'm sorry, i tried."

crowley's wings unfurl with an almost silent gust of air, blacking out the sunlight streaming in. he drags himself to the nearest corner before wrapping his arms and wings around himself, and curling up as tightly as possible.

"i tried," he keeps breathing into feathers and fabric, "i tried, i tried, i tried."

over and over until his voice fails him and then some more. it is almost a lullaby, the words taking whatever is left of his heart and gently rocking it back and forth. crowley falls asleep like that, exhausted and broken and lonely. just as sleep pulls him under, he stops his repetition, his mouth shaping phrase after phrase.

for the very first time since his fall, crowley closes his eyes and prays.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #okay listen this just happened i didnt PLAN to write this #this is very obviously me projecting i think lol but then again when am i not #anyway i'd say i'm sorry but i'm really not #someone break that man (gn) or so help me

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anadiasmount · 4 months

Text

what could’ve been - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: based on this request! brother bsf! after a heavy international loss, jude can only cope and receive comfort from his bsf little sister in her arms despite someone walking in on them…

wc: 1.7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa🗣️: WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I RECEIVED THIS!! ik it’s not the longest but still filled with heavy and forbidden touches with jude 😵‍💫🤭 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

you felt torn apart. feeling limb by limp being swept away as you try to cope with the realization they were kicked out to their deserved semi-finals. you couldn’t hear the commotion around you, feeling drips of water fall on you from some fans angry or happily celebrating, only blinking rapid to see if what happened was real or not.

you sunk into the seat, hands covering your face as you felt the need to be pushed into a dark corner and never come out. you felt pity, remorse and overwhelmed with the sight of your brother and his teammates crouched on the floor or wiping their tears away.

you felt for them. it wasn’t a easy match, one of the heaviest tournaments and going against the winner of the last world cup didn’t help. they had a strong team, they had it in the bag before all hell broke loose. one minute you cheered, then next you were trying to hold the choked sobs your body begged to be let out.

you could only stare around with tearful eyes and a heavy pain in your chest as you looked around the stadium before your eyes finally landed on them. your brother consoling jude who tried to control his tears, hugging each other tight almost afraid to let go.

you stayed in your spot, waiting for your brother to appear and come up to the stands. “i genuinely don’t know what to say,” your mom says quietly. you nod agreeing with you, feeling as she hugged your side and brought her to you. “maybe it’s best we leave him, he’ll come to us like he always does when he’s ready to talk,” you reply, bitting your lip to hold back your tears.

you saw your brother send the three of you a quick wake and kiss, shaking his head in dissatisfaction he didn’t want to speak and wanted to be left alone. jude trailed behind him, locking eyes with yours, feeling a familiarity in your tummy as he gave you a sad smile and wave. you reciprocated the action, seeing him whisper a “thank you for being here.”

you felt the first tear and then the one roll down your cheek onto your england jersey, being pushed away into the tunnel back into a reality you dreaded. you felt pissed and angry at the opposing teams fans who cheered loudly as they walked into the shuttles. earning some laughters or side remarks when all you wanted was to go in a tuck into your sheets.

your brother hadn’t checked in yet, so you’d decided to stay up a bit longer knowing he tended to go on walks after rough loss to clear his head. plus you could also imagine the squad comforting each other, and wanting to be there for everyone. you were grateful for that and their ability of having a brotherhood when it most mattered.

while you could also feel for your brother, you randomly began thinking of jude as well. the defeated and obvious sad look on his face as he processed the match. one of englands most youngest talented players at their first world cup and their luck being this.

you and him had a small history. he often came over a lot when they had time off. during those times when left alone a small friendship was built. either to talk about life, seeking advice, music you commonly shared, or when the group decided to leave both of you out.

you felt the need to distance yourself from him after the unexpected makeout session you had in your bedroom. he was your first kiss and it left a forever mark inside you. you knew it was wrong and the last thing you wanted was your brother cutting a long-standing friendship because of it. jude was hurt, eyes always roaming you when he came over and always trying to speak to you.

from jude:

please let me in.

your eyes immediately went wide when you saw him text you to open the door. frantically looking around when you heard the door knock, you quickly looked in the mirror and took deep breaths. this was the last thing you expected to happen especially tonight. your sweaty hand opened the door revealing a teared eyes jude with his nike tech set on.

you let him in, lips pursed not knowing what to say or even debating to say anything. you shifted your weight from one foot to another, you met his eyes, drowning in the rapidly as they never detached from yours. he let out a deep breath or sigh, eyes fluttering as his voice croaked.

he sat on the edge of the bed taking a deep gulp before speaking. “i didn’t know where else to go…” he looked around the room and his body language was refusing to deny what happened. "jude," you whispered quietly taking a small step. you saw his eyes watery looking at you, "can y-y-you just hold me?"

you immediately rushed to him, his head coming to your stomach as his hands wrapped around you. you let him hold you, hearing his loud sobs muffled as you tried to be strong for him. your hands rubbed the top of his shoulders, the other scratching the nape of his neck to comfort him.

you kneeled to his level, holding his face in your hands as you stroked away his tears, jude refusing to let you go as he controlled his breathing. "we can talk about it if you want? but if a quiet setting is what you need i understand too..." you say, thumb tracing his cheeks.

"can we cuddle on the bed? i think i'm ready to talk about it," jude replies, grabbing your hands and placing kisses all over them. you did as you asked, jude laying on top of you as we spoke for almost an hour about how he felt and how things could've gone differently.

you listened, continuing to hold him stroking his back and scratching to soothe his cries or stutters. you didn't interrupt once, wanting him to have the floor to relieve his pain and let his feelings known. you could hear the frustration, tiredness, anger, and disappointment but overall the sadness in his voice.

after a quick share of words and laughter before jude fell asleep, his arms tightly around you as he slept peacefully. you pushed away any feelings, wanting to be there for him when he most needed it. it didn't matter what happened in the past or how you felt for him, he needed consolation and you were grateful he was here with you.

"what the hell is this?!?!" you struggled to open your eyes, feeling the heavy weight on top of you still. you saw your brother standing, before throwing away the sheets that covered both of you. "y/n i swear to god. you two cant be serious right now!"

"please relax its not what it looks like," you said trying to explain the situation, as you stood up and jude as well. " 'it's not what it looks like' my ass! hes my best friend y/n! and here you guys are together and cuddled it up," your brother winced at the end, pacing back and forth with his fists clenched.

"i came here looking to talk with someone! nothing happened i swear! we ended up falling asleep," jude defended, earning an angry look from your brother. "yeah you on top of here like some sort of couple, explain that."

"you're overreacting! nothing happened, period. he was looking for comfort and wanted to talk about what just happened, we talked just that," you say frustrated, becoming pissed at your brother for making up assumptions. jude looked at you with sorry eyes, for getting you into this mess.

"y/n, you don't understand, he's my best friend-"

"you think i don't know that? i know he is, and you're my brother, you weren't the only one who lost tonight. we gave you the space you asked for, and jude is practically like family, so i will be here for him when he asks," you say, watching your brother scoff and give you a look of denial.

"jude you could've gone anywhere else! why her? my sister?" your brother ignored you, coming close face to face with jude. it stung you, hearing him sound almost disgusted of you. "everyone else has families, and they're with them. i had no one besides you and her," jude tried to reason again.

"and you chose her? were best friends jude-"

"i needed her! there i said it! i don't care what you or other people say, i needed y/n tonight. you weren't even here, you took those walks to clear your head and the last i wanted was to stress you out after tonight. i love your sister so much," jude confessed making you gasp and step in front of the two of them.

"i think we should-" you try to intervene as the scene becomes loud in the room, afraid it would wake up others and them going to complain.

"what?" your brother deadpans at jude.

"i said i love her. i have and for so long. and tonight the only person i wanted to see and needed was her. so i'm sorry if that upsets you and for saying it now, but i can't hold my feelings inside any longer," jude says. you're afraid to speak, feeling like a kid all over again about to get scolded for doing the wrong thing.

"i can't believe this," your brother sneers, shaking his head in disappointment and walking away. you call out for him crying trying to resonate but met with the door shutting close. "he hates me. he hates me," you say to yourself, hand coming to your heart as it beats loudly and fast.

"he doesn't hate you, he hates me for falling in love with you. this isn't anyone's fault, we can't control our emotions or feelings let alone let other people control ours, y/n. i said what i said because it's true, im so madly in love with you, baby." jude brushed your tears away, kissing your forehead in a comforting manner.

"jude-" you speak but jude asks you a question that leaves you hesitant about whether to confess how you feel for him or protect your heart to make your brother and everyone happy.

"are you in love with me?"

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months

Text

Offer me your flesh... Not like that

Yan Cultist + Forest Entity/Deity Reader [+18 mdni]

Warnings/Tags: Breeding, monster fucking but you are the monster, tentacle peen, slight size difference/kink, brief mentions of gore/blood but not related to the fucking dw

The watcher of the woods.

A creature known by many names for none of which it cared but remained its mantle to claim. Skin akin to aged bark; horns rooted from the base of its skull like the curving arches of branching trees - the beast towered over all sort of man and earned its title for its eyes. Rare were nights starless, but upon an eve without a single dot in the sky it was common to find them hiding out in the trees. As ancient stories foretold - it's said that on those days the guardian of the forest used all its strength even the light of the stars to lead lost souls home. Imposing as it may be, the creature was a peaceful giant, protecting its land and those who treated it in kind, but as legends of old often became lost in translation - it too fell to the hapless adulteration of time and unwavering, blind devotion.

The worship of humans was a peculiar mistress. Old as the soil itself, the watcher predated the existence of mortals in the region and civilization as a whole. When the founders of the town at the base of the hills culled its land to build the foundation their homes - the watcher taught them cultivate the furtile ground and keep peace. It consindered all who entered its lands as members of its flock - no matter how strange they may be.

For the majority, the humans adored their new guardian. The teachings of gods known before where easily tossed aside in favor of a new master. Caring as it may be- the watcher's fair intentions were mistrude as otherwise when it was found to take the bodies of those lost forever to the forest back to the mountains where it lived. It had seen the way humans stored their dead and wanted to honor their cultures as best it could. Its followers mistook its deeds as a call for sacrifice from the crop it had harvested - and who were they to deny their God.

Those who oppose and those who worked their entire lives towards the ultimate goal of being sacrifice to their God were the first to face death. Blood drained; bodies butchered and displayed on the forest floor like fine feasts. Their God was not pleased with their actions and was repulsed by the smell of human blood; diet consisting purely of what its land birthed and the occasional scraps left behind by the natural hunters of the woods.

The humans would sacrifice those worthy at mass and considered new loses to be god's will. It was seen as sacrilegious to return after a night lost in the woods. The watcher lost favor in their humans through these massacres- and the heart wrenching sobs of a lost hiker it had savecthroughly mislead in their worship and bestowed their false knowledge on new generations - but there was one thing they had gotten correct with their research and discoveries involving their lord.

A shift in behavior - marking the change between seasons summer and fall. The watcher's hardened shell withered and softened into thicker, mossy flesh; antlers curling twice as thick and pained whines the kind to send anguish into the hearts of all beings if not for the pleading moans and scents it gave off. The guardian longed for mate - just like every creature in its forest.

In true alignment with their predecessors, the new age failed to realize the correct way to approach their God in such a sensitive state accordingly. Bathing in the blood of the fallen and wandering naked through the wounds - it repulsed the creature so it fled into premature hibernation to rid itself of the aches and frustration. Doomed for entity - the only of its kind; the watcher suffered countless falls with release. It no longer desired the company of man yet yearned for embrace. Alone, wretched, miserable - the watcher imagined its remaining years trapped in endless parallel and pain... and yet as with the seasons-

All things change.

It happened as the trees were stripped of their bearings and nights grew fringed. A musk within range of the watcher's natural intensity wafted over the forest. The fresh dew of spring and the warmth of summer - two elements that brought the creature comfort in harrowing times. Following the scent, the lewd slick of flesh and muffled moans overlap - flooding the lesser god's loins with familiar ache and need.

The watcher tread out into the clearing to find a human perched beneath one of its trees - fingers at work between their legs and shirt tucked between their teeth. A circle of candles and incense surrounded them; a bed of leaves and spare blankets cushioning their body from the hard floor. The tee helped between their teeth was the same color as the moss encasing the local deity's body and the emblem of its horns. A ranger - one that bares resemblance to a face once riddled with fear; now barring the opposite emotion. Lowering the match the mortal's height, the watcher did as it does best - studying the human's acts of self pleasure with intent. Startled by a pitched whine, it's antlers knock against the trees as it lurches.

"You're finally here, huh? Kept me waiting."

The watcher reals as the ranger spreads their legs, fingers plunged deep as they wiggle their hips at the air.

"Don't be shy... We have a special connection you and I.... I'm talking to you."

With a soft chitter - you exit the trees. Stalking forward on all fours, you sniff at the human's arousal as your snout draws against their skin. Black tongue wagging, it sweeps their tender flesh pleased to find no traces of acidic blood and a hint of ripe fruits instead. Enthralled with their taste and scent, the fright as they bring a hand up to your face is enough to cause second retreat. They coo, swallowing the stimulation of being in their lord's presence, and reach out - free hand carding through their hair.

"Hey - hey, don't panic- You remember me, don't you? I was that hiker you saved a few summers back. I always thought the legends were bullshit, but I was still afraid of the unknown. It turned out to be beautiful - my soul mate. See this? I got it when I fell in the river and hit my head on the rocks."

A dated scar bleeds through their hairline. You snort, breath fanning their neck as you cage them to the trees with your larger body, awaiting their next move. Faith unwavering - their hands skim and carcass your torso, glinding through the mossy fur down to the build up of your tension. Teasing the sheath with their nimble digits, you shutter - legs parting as a tendril the color of the night sky and thick as the ranger's thigh unfurls from the slit. Quick to work, the human slides under you - both hands at the base of your appendage. You whine as their lips haul your girth in a trail of kisses - length traveling the side of their face as they reach your thigh.

"You must be in so much pain. So many years with everyone in town going about things the wrong way. It's crazy to think I'm the only one to have figured things out - but it just further proves we're meant to be. Don't worry - I'll take all of your loneliness and pain away."

You don't bother to piece together what their saying. The exhales between each word heightened your sensitive to their mouth riding up to the tip of your growth - lips wrestled slack by the weight pressed to them. You cushion their head and neck with one hand as you thrust, seeking the heat of their mouth. The tendril, slick as it may be - only hits quarter way before the human chokes; the convulsions of their throat drawing a pleased hum from your throat which drones into a concerned murr at the tears lacing their flashes. You pull free - bending down to lap at their face. The ranger's heart swells seeing the light of their god's eyes shine for them solely.

"Don't worry about me - I've prepped for this day since you sent me home. My body is a vessel for your desire - and our future seedlings."

Lost in translation - you get the general picture as they on their back, body displayed for your taking. Devotion engraved into their very being and supple flesh free of damage - this is all you've ever lusted for. The mortal body at your beck and call, captured in its purest beauty. You press forward - crying out in pure frustration and agony as your tendril glossing over its intended target. Rutting and huffing through desperate attempts - your follower guides through your eagerness and their own dire need, and angles themself properly beneath you - wind knocked from their lungs as you sink in at last.

Pushed to edge by every muscle contracting around you, and the sweet relief of finally, finally- obtaining an outlet for your insufferable heats - you howl in frenzied glee. Wasting no time, you start off at a brute pace - jowls snapping in rhythm to each slap of skin. Your follower mewls along with you, hands based on your torso - praying the entirety of the town below can hear your unity. Their stomach bulges with the outline of your tendril and they clench around you conjuring the swell of your young.

"Yes! Ah! My love - breed me! I've waited for this for so long. Take me as you. Give me your love, your young - anything, please!"

Their worship is cut short by the infiltration of your tongue down their throat. Choking as they did on your cock - their eyes dart back as you pin their knees to chest, steady on yours as you plow them into the makeshift bedding. The slick plap of their wetness dragging you back in and the suction of it drives you deeper with every grind. The lack of oxygen from your tongue altering the flood of air makes their muscles tighten further - ripping the first orgasm of the eve out of you as your talons pucker their flesh. Stilling momentarily - thoughts overload with the realization of your true purpose in this realm. Breeding every hole offered to you.

The smell of blood premonating your scents does little to waver the force and intensity of your release - years, decades of build up breaching as you slam against them - pursuing that increasing, staggering high. Your cum floods their hole - leaking around your cock and down their thighs. Rubbing your cheek against their head, you lazily fuck nearly every drop back into them as they twitch and spasm around you. The blessing of being the first real sacrifice to their God was tear inducing.

Your tongue pulls from their mouth, licking salty tears and saliva as apology for nearly asphyxiating them. Your follower gasps and pants, lips formed in conversation but missing the voice to speak. You slip out of them, fluids gushing from their stuffed hole. The sight causes another stir in your nether reigion. Picking them up like an oversized doll, you lean back against the tree as you lower them into your lap - this time being the one to guide your tendril into their greedy hole. Head rolling back, a hand shoots out to grab your horns as you rock upwards into them. Pleasure rocks your very core as they hold onto your sensitive mounts, hands climbing with each bounce. Your cock throbs as they eventually catch on and pour the remainder of their strength into rubbing every curve and bump of your antlers.

Mouth agap - the skin of their shoulder catches in your teeth. Having lost all restraint and repulsion in the stench you bite down, marking as they likely desired. An assumption proven seconds later as a scream tears out of them, body stuttering as they cum around your appendage. Your hand pads their stomach, adding surface for you to better fuck your squirming length into them. You take both of their wrists into your hands - slamming them back on your cock as you finish at the end of their peak - overestimating their shot senses as your length spasms against their fleshy walls. More of your spend leaks from them as you pull out which they shove back as you slump against the ground still cradling them in your arms. The ranger attacks your jaw and chest in kisses, warming your tendril with their thighs and rubbing their own sex against it. Your eyelids fall heavy, twinkling lights dimming. The ranger nestles into your chest - fatigue on the horizon but job far from complete.

"We'll be amazing parents someday. I'm so happy you chose me. Rest now - I'll take care of everything else from here on. Sweet dreams, Dear~"

A new scent - the smell of pine needdles in the winter. Winter - the season when you fell into a deep sleep."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere blurb #tw yandere #yandere smut #monster reader #god reader #yandere drabble #yandere imagines

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riordanness · 5 months

Text

nightmare dressed like a daydream — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: nightmares and reader has ptsd

requested: no (but feel free to <3)

As usual, the nightmares hit as soon as I close my eyes.

Memories of the life I used to live, the people who used to control my every waking minute. The ache of my bones, the pounding of my head, the intense loneliness that would try to consume me.

Will had been the light shining through the darkness of my life, but in my dreams, he never came back for me.

I was left stranded in Mrs Scrubbit’s chicken coop, or left to scrub and scrub the dirt from a pile of clothes that never ended.

I would often wake in a cold sweat, or screaming, or crying, or sometimes all of them at once. My hands would be clenched so tightly around the sheets that my knuckles would be white. My breathing would be heavy, and I’d be near impossible to calm down.

Except for when Willy Wonka was there. Because that boy was a miracle.

Just his touch, and a few gentle words would slow my heart rate. My breathing would calm, and I would focus on reality again.

Reality was being safe. It was being with Willy, helping him make his astounding chocolates. Reality was being happy every day. Being free everyday. Reality was falling in love with Willy Wonka.

Tonight, my dreams were much the same. I was small, and alone, and the darkness and freezing cold of the chicken coop were smothering me. The awful smell filled my nose, I was chilled to the bone, and I had almost given up.

But just at the moment when Willy was supposed to show up and rescue me, whisk me away to safety and to freedom, he didn’t come. He didn’t show up at all.

He left me there to be trapped forever.

I wake with a start, a strangled cry choking out of me. Tears are still fresh on my cheeks, and my chest heaves with sobs.

Barely a moment passes before my bedroom door opens. Willy rushes through, and drops to his knees on the floor beside my bed.

“Hey, hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He reaches for me, pulling me close to his chest. I cry into his shirt, fists clutching at the material.

“You… I was… alone,” I cry, utterly distraught. You’d think, after having the same nightmare every night for weeks now, that I’d be a little less sensitive to it, but it was so painful every time. Painful in a way I just couldn’t describe properly.

The thought of not having Willy in my life, this boy who now meant the entire world to me, this boy who had rescued me from my terrible life and set me free, that realisation of him leaving me there hurt like nothing else.

Waking up to realise it was just a dream, and that Willy would never do that, was so relieving I just cried even more.

But here, wrapped in his arms, I knew I was safe. I knew I didn’t need to worry about being alone anymore. Because I wasn’t. I had Willy Wonka by my side, and I probably always will.

“I would never leave you,” Willy whispers into my hair, as his fingers play with a strand of it.

I wonder if maybe he can read my thoughts. He always seems to know the exact right thing to say to make me feel better, to ease my worries and anxieties and to calm me right down.

“You never need to worry about being alone again.”

His words are like a sip of hot chocolate, warm and comforting, spreading that happy feeling all over me.

“Hey,” Willy says in a hushed voice. “Can you let me go for a second, sweetheart?”

I realise how tightly I’m clutching onto him, and I quickly let him go. “Sorry,” I say, brushing my tears away with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry.”

Willy shakes his head. “No you don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault you had to experience all of that. It’s perfectly natural to have nightmares about it.”

He gets to his feet. “I’m going to just grab my suitcase, and I’m going to make you something.”

I ease myself back onto my pillows, trying to hold onto the feeling of relaxation I feel while in Willy’s arms a little longer. “Okay.”

He disappears, and quickly returns with his case, which he sets on my desk. He sits down, rummages for a while, and soon enough, comes back over to me with two items. A mug, and a small piece of chocolate.

Willy sits gingerly on the edge of my bed. “Hot chocolate,” he says, handing me the mug, “for obvious reasons.”

“Hot chocolate is the world's best beverage invention,” I quote him, a small smile playing around my mouth.

Willy nods, and grins, and holds out his palm. On it lies a little circular chocolate, silvery blue in colour. Right in the middle is a little symbol of a… snake? No, two snakes, intertwined around a little stick.

A caduceus, I think. The ancient Greek symbol of medicine.

I pick up the chocolate, holding it carefully between my fingers. “What is it?”

Willy shrugs. “Try it and see.”

I pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly. Instantly, I feel a strange but delicious feeling crawling all over me,

I swallow, and the warm feeling only spreads further. Everything inside of me seems to relax, like melted chocolate and a smile has been injected into all my muscles and nerves.

“What is this?” I ask, looking up at him. For the first time since he came in, I really notice how tired he looks. His eyes are slightly glazed-over, his curls are unkempt and messily splayed across his forehead. His shirt is rumpled, but his smile is still as bright as it always is.

“It’s… uh, just something I made for you.” He looks away as he answers.

I laugh lightly. “Well, of course. But what is it?”

My best friend glances back at me. “Love,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s love.”

I have no idea why or how, but just his words fill me with more warmth and joy than any amount of chocolate ever could.

“I love you,” Willy says.

“I love you too,” I admit slowly, my eyes suddenly too shy to look at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He smiles, and I’m sure it’s brighter than the sun itself. “I’m glad.” He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine, and I swear, sugary sweets couldn’t compare at all.

#wonka #willy wonka #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka 2023 #willy wonka movie #wonka movie #wonka movie 2023 #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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