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goodomensafterdark · 2 days
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Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories
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Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)
Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!
Chapter 7 of work in progress
TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.
Summary:
Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?
Excerpt:
Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.
“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”
“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.
“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?
“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.
“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.
“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”
And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.
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Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae
Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja
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you love me (i really do) ~ lando norris
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~ part 1 ~
warnings: drinking, angst
Everything came back to her now about that night in a flash, the night Lando got a podium in Singapore. It had seemed like a blur in the moment, since the celebration had been so quickly swallowed up by endless shots, blaring music, too much touching, and the way Lando’s touch felt hot and heavy all over her.
He’d wanted to celebrate it, that’s obviously why he was crazy drunk- his eyes bright with the sort of excitement only a champion had. He’d been so happy, soaking up every moment of attention that blared on him. Sure, Carlos had won the race, but Lando had been enjoying each second like he was the one taking home the first place trophy.  
The photos and videos seemed endless. There was him getting out of the car, his toothy grin, the way his face lit up in pride as he raised the trophy high above his head. Each scroll past the photos felt like more of her restraint being chipped away at her body.
Her situation had become so direly drastic to the one she’d found herself deep within only a matter of hours ago. Her surroundings went from the blinding neon lights of the club, to the sudden dim shade as her head remained buried under layers of thick blankets. Her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to look at her phone screen as her thumb idly swiped through twitter. It seemed like a bad dream, a bad hangover at that- all regret with all good memories just narrowly out of reach.
Seemingly, the whole platform had been going crazy over the ‘CarLando’ podium. The memory of seeing it first hand was beyond hazy for her, but seeing the photos now- it must’ve been the best of his career. Standing on the second step next to his best friend, champagne coated his face in a glimmering sheen under the luminous night light celebrations. 
Each new piece of media that appeared on her timeline caused her resolve to falter slightly more, being steadily replaced with the desire to bombard his phone with strings of apology texts. She shouldn’t have walked out on him, she shouldn’t have left without an apology, she shouldn't have ignored the three times he’d tried to call her presumably just after he’d woken up in an empty bed.
But she also shouldn’t have slept with him.
He was her best friend and not even a day ago, he was on top of her, all over her, inside her. Who’s to say when he did it with her would’ve been different? It was likely the exact same as every other time for him- have a good race (sometimes even if it had been a shitty one), get drinks, wait for a flock of attention from girls, give the most basic of compliments, ‘ you have beautiful eyes,’, ‘you’re fucking gorgeous in that dress,’, and wait for them to fall to their knees for him- literally.
Maybe it would wash over, maybe he’d be fine by the Japanese grand prix, Qatar at the least. He’d be fine, he always was. He somehow managed to consistently pick himself back up after each bad race, getting over a one night stand would be much easier than that.
Right?
Japan was the race directly after Singapore, and she didn’t attend. Lando wasn’t going to miss her, she’s pretty sure of that. After the initial few calls he’d attempted to make to her the morning she left him in the hotel, he’d gone seemingly radio silent. He was posting regularly on instagram, liking stupidly immature tweets, even hinting towards big upcoming projects for quadrant. He was.. normal. Unaffected clearly.
She took a flight to Australia, reckoning it was just about the safest place she could escape from Lando. The Australian grand prix was way back at the beginning of the year, and unlike his teammate, this wasn’t even his home, and he had no reason to go there.
She could camp out here for as long as she pleased- or at least until the middle of march when the 2024 Australian grand prix would be taking place. From the 24 of september until the 20 of march (give or take a few days), she had just about 6 months to sort herself the fuck up with him, or just escape somewhere else.
Trying to ignore all the information and blast of new media as the Qatar grand prix approached was near unignorable. McLaren was clearly confident about the track, and they believed that even under the unideal conditions of the track and the surrounding environment, that the cars were designed to fit each aspect of the Lusail Circuit.
And she wasn’t necessarily purposefully ignoring anything Lando related- in actuality she sometimes found her fingers hovering over a new interview of his. It was refreshing to see him happy, looking a whole lot better than she’d been feeling the last few days. So when her calendar pings as a reminder that qualifying was happening at 7 am, despite the stupid hour she’d need to be awake for it- she watched it anyways. 
Lando narrowly ended in 10th after his lap times were deleted. Oscar suffered the same fate, but still had the advantage of being 3 places ahead of his senior teammate for the sprint shootout. Unfortunately he suffered again in the sprint shootout, Oscar starting in pole position while he came narrowly behind in second. Considerably an impressive feat, but for someone who wasn’t satisfied if he was not very first- Lando couldn’t have seemed more disappointed.
The sprint was worse for him afterwards, dropping from 1st to 2nd as Max took his spot. Oscar retained his pole, keeping his pace throughout the whole race to eventually take home his first win (even if ‘ it wasn’t a real race’) as a rookie. Lando, once again, was not thrilled. After being in the sport for 5 years, he was still chasing the high that would accompany a win.
On the day of the actual race, Lando performed only slightly worse than Oscar- the two of them securing the second ‘McPodium’ of the season with Oscar on the second step and Lando in third. Beneath the sheer exhaustion, near matching grins spreaded across both of their faces as they proudly held up their trophies. There was no doubt that Lando would every let the fact that his rookie teammate got win before he did- that much was evident in all the post race interviews. 
There were certainly moments where she contemplated sending him a message, congratulating him on another podium to add to his collection. It did feel wrong though, appearing again out of nowhere when he achieved something notable. She didn’t want to come across that she’d only be there for him when he was successful. In actuality, she really just wanted to be back in his life. Surely a week without contact wouldn’t end the multi-year friendship they had.
But after all, a lot can happen in one night. Maybe Lando would gradually just turn into a distant memory of hers- somebody that she once knew.
At COTA, Lando secured his fourth podium in a row. He’d gotten 2nd in Singapore, 2nd in Japan, 3rd in Qatar, and back up to 2nd in America. This time, Oscar doesn’t join him on the podium, Lewis does instead. Two multi world champions- one a recent 3 time champion, the other with 7 titles- and Lando right there next to them. He’d be next, she was sure he would be.
It’s quite the sight, the three men stood up on their respective steps. Lewis- the past of formula one. The man who ruled the sport for years, taking home win after win. Only challenged by the very race winner of Max Verstappen. He was the face of formula one for the time being, and likely could be for the following few years. There were only a few talents in the sport who had the potential to fight Max for those future titles- and Lando was certainly one of them. He had a good car, a teammate who could challenge and push him to be a better driver, he had the determination- the drive to win.
Mexico wasn’t anything to write home about. She tried to not watch it, getting an icky feeling each time she saw Lando on screen because the only place her mind would go to was how sweet his mouth tasted. It seemed that the only thoughts that would flood her brain each time she saw anything related to him, her body went into a sort of remembering state when all she could think about was how she’d felt that night. He ended in 5th, so maybe she should’ve just not watched the race. His face was hardly shown beyond a clip of him just before getting onto the car, and then in the post race interviews. At least she didn’t stay up all night thinking about it.
Brazil on the other hand was a race worth watching- Max in 1st, Lando in 2nd, Fernando in 3rd. The gap between Alonso and Norris is insane, especially given Fernando was a 2 time world champion with more than 20 years of experience. He’d be next, she knew it. He’ll be a world champion soon, and her only wish was that she’d be smart enough and brave enough to reach out with congratulations. She also hoped that he’d be happy to receive one from her.
Notably the worst race of the season is Las Vegas, given that Lando crashed on Lap 3. He slammed straight into a barrier, his car almost flinging backward with the power of hitting a wall at 180mph. It was the only race she didn’t want, but hearing about it afterwards sent a cold sweat down her back. A sharp inhale filled her lungs and her hand stayed attached over her gaping mouth. She didn’t check how bad the crash was initially, and wad glad when she heard he was out without any injuries.
Finally, the season finale in Abu Dhabi occurred. After such an intense season (that she’d shamefully tuned in for more than she would’ve liked to admit post Singapore), it was almost a relief when the race ended, because of the realisation that she wouldn’t have to hear about Lando for a few months, until preseason testing at least. 
With the slight friendship (and possibly to be further blossoming) she’d managed to accumulate with Oscar, she’d found out the Brit was basically doing a world tour over the winter holiday. Places such as Bali and Vietnam, then all the way over to Finland- or an adjacent. She’d be safe, the only two drivers who would be in the same continent as her would be the two actual Australian drivers- Liam in New Zealand if he counted in the f1 drivers realm.
So she took the few weeks she had off of work- which wasn’t ever really solid as it seemed her career was all over the place, she took those solid-off holiday weeks to venture out to familiarise herself better with Australia. Sydney- she knew well, Brisbane maybe even more so. Melbourne the most due to attending the grand prix there every year for the past 6 seasons. But in all her time spent in Australia, she’d never truly gotten around to exploring Western Australia.
So she did what any right minded person visiting Perth who had connections to F1 would do- she reached out to Daniel and asked for any recommendations for her holiday. But instead of simply giving her a list of places to eat, shops to visit, sights to see, he straight up invites her to spend a week at his farm.
Yep, Daniel Ricciardo, farm owner.
Obviously, she accepted the invitation due to lack of other plans and pure interest about what a f1 driver of over a decade could possibly need a farm for. So the next day, her legs awkwardly cramped up in between her suitcase and the back of the passenger seat in the taxi. Her fingers idly drummed against the window as sparse pellets of rain hit against it. The sun blared down through the glass despite the rain- clearly a perth summer was no joke when it came to heat.
The timing of the car finally slowing down just in front of Daniel’s farm/house/home situation perfectly aligned for when her phone died. Manoeuvring her feet out of the tight squeeze where her suitcase was crushing her legs was her first problem, actually picking it up to carry out of the car was a whole different one. Once again, luckily for her Daniel was standing at the door, his signature grin lighting up his face. 
After a tight hug and a quick exchange of the past few months they hadn’t seen each other for (the time post SIngapore), he picked up her suitcase with ease and lugged it inside. The inside of his house was nice, beautiful even. That was expected for a millionaire- but it wasn’t the typical too much money, not enough actual taste , it was classy and elegant, while maintaining a certain homely charm.
“This is beautiful, Dan,” She murmured, shaking her head back as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He barked out a laugh as he kicked off his shoes, 2 scuff marks on the ground ruining the otherwise picturesque place. 
“Thank you,” He grinned, “I try my best- or more so Heidi does,” Ah, that made more sense. Not that Daniel didn’t seem capable of designing a nice place, but the fact that it was actually his girlfriend made a whole lot more sense. 
Nudging her shoes off and over to join next to his, she gently stretched out her limp to relieve the formed tension in her back, “Heidi does a fantastic job then,” Her eyes travelled around the living room, taking in each piece of wall art and decorative choice.
Daniel’s dirtied socks glided smoothly along the marble floors, “Can I get you a drink?” He hummed, one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself as the other opened the fridge door. He grabbed out a beer can for himself and so out of pure convenience and not wanting to seem ‘fussy’, she asked for the same.
The harsh, bitter taste of beer abused her throat, an unpleasant and unwelcome decision at only 3 in the afternoon. On the other hand, getting her first drink down then meant that as the night progressed further, and drinks got heavier- she’d be somewhat prepared from such a light percentage drink. 
The rest of the evening was spent outside on the balcony, sipping beer and discussing the end of the season- how it had felt to get back to racing for him since the last race she’d actually seen in person was in Singapore where he’d been replaced with Liam. 
They spoke briefly about Liam at that, Max too- mainly his dominance that season, partially about him as a person in general. They moved to speaking about Oscar’s rookie year, and then unsurprisingly, the topic landed onto Lando.
Finally, in the last hour before midnight, with her legs tucked up to her chest, she looked to her left where Daniel was in a rocking chair next to her. “I hooked up with Lando in Singapore,” She murmured, her index nail scraping along the condensation lined glass where only the last few drops of her whiskey-coke remained. “We hooked up and then I just left him there,” Daniel’s eyebrows shot up, his lips parting in shock.
“I knew that,” He eventually exhaled, his words completely different from his surprised reaction. “LN told me pretty much the day after it happened, and for the following weeks too,” Shit, that felt awful to hear. Part of her had wished that Lando had magically stopped caring the day after it had happened- she wanted it to be easy on him unlike how it was for her. It was her decision to have left, he shouldn’t have to continue to feel so deeply affected.
The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked down, a comical laugh escaping her lips. “Why’d you react like that then?” Her lips feel cold as her throat remains hot from the intense burn of the vodka shots they’d stupidly taken a few hours prior. “You looked.. shocked,”
“I was,” He admitted, downing the last of his drink before resting it on the corner of his armrest, the corner of the glass hitting the wood with a clink. “ I am , I’m shocked you’re actually admitting you just abandoned the bloke after a night together. He thought you would never mention it again- never speak to him again,”
The edge of passive aggression in his voice is noticeable even to the most clueless people. It made her squirm in her seat, the palms of her hands get sweaty, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Daniel wasn’t the type to ever get mad with anyone, or even be any bit confrontational, so the way he was speaking to her seemed so out of Ricciardo fashion.
“I know,” Her voice was barely a low hum, self disappointment pulsing through her body. “I’ve felt like shit ever since- if that means anything,” When her eyes lifted off the wood panel of the balcony fence and towards Daniel, he was looking far out towards the night sky. 
His gaze met hers though, his bottom lip grazing under his teeth. It was strange seeing him that serious. “Doesn’t really mean too much to me, I think Lando needs to hear that,” Yeah , apologising to Daniel wasn’t going to do much was it? Lando was the one she’d left.
“He actually cares?” Her voice came out more surprised and untrusting than she’d expected. The scrunch of his eyebrows and twist of his lips in confusion gets her to keep talking. “Yeah, like.. I guess I just assumed it would be just like any other hook up for him,” Her hand carded through her hair, pushing it off her forehead. 
“He cares more than anything,” Daniel murmured, a slight laugh attached to his voice. He wasn’t mad at her at all, fully understanding her scepticism about how real the younger driver’s feelings were. “I know he doesn’t seem as if he cares about each girl he gets with- but he cares about you,” Their eyes meet in a sort of sad and poetic way. 
Daniel knows better than anyone the way she feels toward Lando, how she’s felt towards the Brit for years. Up until that night in Singapore, she’d waited for the day she could look at her best friend and not feel the most excruciating twisting in her stomach and cracking of her heart because he was the one thing she wanted, and the one thing she couldn’t have.
“In Vegas when he crashed, he asked for you,” The Aussie's voice had lost its humour, any sense of fun from earlier in the night having fully faded away. “So many times. He was hysterical, couldn’t understand why you weren’t there to hold his hand,” 
Holy fucking shit. She wanted to cry, a tightening sensation formed in her throat, becoming painful to swallow. “I should’ve been there,” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood spilling onto her tongue. “I fucking should’ve reached out when I heard,” 
He squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb squishing her hand up to reach the tips of his index and middle. “You had no way to know, you weren’t expected to be there either. You have your own life, Lando needs to know that,” She can’t shake it from her head though. “You’re not in the wrong, you don’t owe him to be there whenever he needs comfort. I think he just needs to know you’re not angry at him,”
Angry? Why on earth would she be angry? Lando hadn’t done a single thing wrong to her, she did owe it to him to be there when he crashed, when he was scared and alone. “Yes I do,” Her eyebrows drew to a pinch, a look of frustration clouding over her vulnerable near crying expression.
“ You don’t”
I do, Daniel. You don’t get it. I left him, I left him there alone straight after-
“He told me he loved me,” 
That got a genuine look of shock from the Australian. “Shit. I didn’t know that,” His voice got breathy and harsh around the edges. 
“Yeah.”
“Do you love him back?”
“Yeah.”
His hand left hers, moving to rub over his face. “Jesus,” It was so quiet between them that the noise of the near midnight light breeze was louder than either of them. “Does he know that?”
The muscles in her neck tensed with a deep swallow of the spit gathering in her mouth. Gross. “No. I don’t think he knows I heard him either,” She’d never felt more shameful. Her mind had been so fuzzy with alcohol and lust that it had just been too much. “I didn’t think he was serious. I didn’t think he could seriously love me,”
God, she needed to shut up before she began bawling her eyes out to Daniel.
“Why not?” She didn’t quite know how to answer his question. There were probably a million and one things she could give as half arsed replies to why she didn’t believe she and Lando should be together. The distance, constant travelling, lack of affection and physical ties. But Daniel could see right through her, he could see her lies.
“I’m just nothing like the girls he’s been with before. I didn’t- I don’t understand why when he could have absolutely anyone in the world, he’d want me,” She corrected herself, feeling far more vulnerable then she’d ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone before.
They’re no longer looking at each other, both too focused at staring up at the stars above them. “You make him feel safe. You’re the only one he’s always felt like a real person around. He’s not a race car driver with you, he’s not famous with you, he doesn’t have to perform and impress you, to you- he’s Lando, he’s your best friend. And to him, you’re home,” 
It’s difficult to form a single thought after that. So after the conversation pulled to a complete close, they both agreed it was late and they needed their rest. With a suffocating hug and reassurances that she’ll be okay, they parted ways- Daniel into his own room and her into the spare bedroom. His snores seeped into her room, yet they weren’t what kept her from sleeping. 
Lando was. 
She swore she could hear him everywhere, even smell him. She wanted him laying down right next to her, his arms around her waist as she slept with her head on his chest. He was the only thing that could calm her down, make her mind shut up for a bit so she could just rest.
Her head had begun pounding and her mouth became infinitely dry from the excessive drinking, so with a struggle to stand up straight, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her clammy hands gripped onto the handrails as she took each step one by one. 
Passing through the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and poured a glass of cold water. She chugged it down eagerly, getting a refill before heading into the living room to sit on the couch and drink the rest. As the couch became visible to her poor sight, she saw a figure sitting at the end further away from her. A mop of curly hair was on top of the figure’s head- Daniel. 
Clearly he’d been unable to sleep like she had. Maybe he felt lonely too. Heidi was back in Portugal over the winter break, so he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. He was probably in a similar boat as her right now.
She felt so empty after the past few weeks, and the hug she’d gotten from him only a few hours hadn’t quite been enough, so she set her glass down and stepped closer. The noise of her glass hitting the table grabbed the shadowed figure of Daniel’s attention, his head turning to face her. “Daniel,” She mumbled weakly, sprawling onto the couch next to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms loosely around him.
When he didn’t hug her back, she whined and dug her head into his chest. “Please Dan, I need a hug,” Her voice sounded so desperate as it hit her ears. “I just.. I want my brain to shut up for once, I- I’m just so tired,” 
“I’m not Daniel,” Her heart pounded in absolute panic. Her chest rose and dropped quickly as she attempted to think of all the possible explanations. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be an intruder. God, how had she been so stupid as to not switch on a light or anything before practically hurdling herself at this guy? If she died right now, it was all on her for being a thoughtless idiot. 
But in a moment of clarity where her mind considered who could possibly be at the house that wasn’t an intruder, she scanned through each person Daniel knew with curly hair and a British accent. Lewis? Didn't have curly hair. George? Also without curly hair. Ollie? Too young for Daniel to be friends with. 
Oh. 
“Lando?” A sharp exhale left her mouth as his name slipped out. She twisted her head to look up at him, his features only slightly visible in the near pitch black room. Sure enough, big green eyes and plump pink lips stood out to her. Her face crumpled, her heart thrumming in her chest. “ Lando”
He clearly had recognised her too, his lips parting as his expression softened. His eyes felt like a million knives jabbing into her, his intense stare mapping out her whole face. The smell of his cologne was harsh on her senses, yet was the most comfort she’d had in months.
“Why are you here?” Her tone sounded accusatory, which clearly wasn’t intentional. The comment landed poorly, his expression contorting strangely. Not helpful . 
“Spontaneous Australia trip,” He didn’t owe her an apology, but something was nagging at him to stay, to engage in the conversation. It was the most he’d seen of her in nearly 4 months. He couldn’t even begin to express how good it felt to hear her voice after so long. “Came to visit Dan, maybe Osc next. Dan always tells me if I’m ever in the country I can just come over.. so” He trailed off when she didn’t reply, and his mouth clamped back shut.
Just as it seemed he would get up and leave, his actions tense and rigid around her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Quiet. Her mind finally went quiet. It was so peaceful for once. “I’m so sorry for everything,” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her mouth slightly muffled by the thick fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you tried to call,” Her breaths became more frantic, tears piling up in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“I’m sorry for- for hurting you, I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” Her mouth and lips were so painfully dry, her tongue darted out to wet her lips before forcing out the final apology. Just as she was about to, his mouth opened as if he was about to talk. “Don’t say it’s okay,” 
She knew him well enough to know exactly where he was going. He would apologise for absolutely everything that had ever happened to him, even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Most of all,” Her throat tensed as he stared her down intensely. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you back.” 
His lips shaped into a huge smile after a few seconds of emotionless shock, as if the news was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.
“And you shouldn’t forgive me,” She shook her head insistently. That was another thing hse knew about him, he was the most forgiving person ever. She could absolutely ruin his life a million times and with a single ‘ I’m sorry’ , they’d return back to being best friends. 
“But-”
“You can’t,” Not only did she not believe she deserved his love, she didn’t believe she deserved any sort of forgiveness from him, much less for him to still love her after all this. All she wanted was for him to not have any hurt from the whole ordeal anymore. 
Lando tilted his head, his bottom lip tucked under his adorably gapped teeth. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” His eyes seemed impossibly bright despite the darkness, “Cause I want to love you, and it seems as if you love me too,” His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her chin.
That was correct, she still loved him more than anything. She could fight those feelings away, give him all the excuses under the sun as to why she wouldn’t be with him- but her heart and mind wanted different things. Logically, dating a formula one driver who’s whole life revolved around travel and constant adrenaline- her life that consisted of a lot of mundane jobs and chilling at home, they just clashed .
The illogical part of her, the part that was thinking with her heart, believed that nothing would be better than to attend races, watch from the grandstands, and kiss him after each race. She could comfort him if he had a bad race or quali, she could be there to celebrate with after a podium or even a win. 
Right now, and maybe always, what her heart wanted was significantly outweighing what she thought was good for her. “Yeah, I do love you,” It didn’t feel or sound weird like it had when she’d told Daniel about it the night before. It felt good, really good. Very right too, because in all of her years of friendship with Lando- ever since she’d realised her feelings for him- she hadn’t ever admitted to herself that she loved him. 
But of course she did, it was clear as day. If she ever heard of anyone ‘liking’ someone the way she ‘liked’ Lando, she’d know immediately it was love.
Her confession felt even better when she saw how his face managed to light up even further. 
There was more she could’ve apologised for, and she could easily keep going, but she was quickly shut up with two lips pressed up against her own. Lando tasted just as sweet as he always did, a tinge of mint presumably from gum earlier on. 
Her lips didn’t adjust into the kiss at first, until he began to pull back and her lips secured over his bottom one, keeping him there. It took a few moments to warm up to it, but her mouth starts moving in time with his. It’s so quiet in the living room that the only noise is the quiet hums and sighs they both let out. “I’m really sorry,” She murmured again
His hands moved to position her body to be straddling him, not necessarily to make the kiss sexual, but to make the angle more comfortable. “I forgive you,” His teeth tug on her bottom lip, drawing out the kiss for longer. He grinned against her lips, kissing her softer over and over. “And I love you,” He murmured again. “So- please- stop- apologising,” He kissed her in between each word, trying to push forward his point.
It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “Okay,” Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, painted a darker shade of rosy red with each kiss. “Sorry,”
Lando groaned, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in for more kisses. “For each time you apologise, I’m gonna shut you up with kisses,” He threatened, nudging her cheek with his nose.
“Sorry, but I’m gonna keep saying sorry then. Sorry, sorry, sorry” He kept his promise, kissing her after each and every apology. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry,” Her fingers slid into place in his mess of curls, tugging gently to keep him in place for each kiss. 
“Bad idea.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to avoid her kisses. “No kisses till you stop saying it,”
That worked. 
“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise,” She held out her pinky finger to further the promise. He kissed the tip of her finger and then held it tight. 
“Good,”
“Good,”
“ Good ,” His lips slotted back into place with hers, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled further into his hair. “You’re so pretty,” He hummed, licking into her mouth with slow and calculated moves.
“Hmm, you’re prettier,” Her whole body felt hot, but so cosy on top of him. She hadn’t quite realised how tired she was until that very moment, her words slightly slurred and her eyes heavy. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away exhaustion.
He shifted underneath her, tucking his hands under her thighs to help wrap her legs around his waist. “Arms around my neck,” He whispered, intentionally keeping his volume to a minimum so as to not wake her up more. 
Her body felt limp as she rested all her weight onto him. He lugged her upstairs, opening the door with one hand as his other arm remained around her waist. “Lannnn,” She whined as she pressed more kisses to his neck. 
“Yeah baby?” He murmured as he laid her down on the bed, her body heavy and weak as it hit the mattress. “What’s up?” Her arms dropped down to her sides as they unlinked from around his neck.
“Stay,” It wasn’t a suggestion or question, more an incredulously desperate request. “Please, want you to stay,” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, wrapping it around her fingers.
He gave her a knowing look before nudging her over in the bed, crawling under the sheets next to her. “You’re not going to walk out this time?” He raised his eyebrows, his teeth poking out over his bottom lip when he grinned.
“I’m gonna say it,”
“Don’t” His voice went serious.
“I’m gonna say it,”
“Do.. not.. say.. It,”
“..Sorry,”
Lando let out a long groan, hauling himself half on top of her to smother her with his arms. “You are such a pain in my ass,” 
“You love me,” She pecked him, fighting back sleep just so she could keep kissing him
“I do love you,” He caved and removed his arms, placing them on either side of her face to corner her and kiss all over her flushed face.
“I love you more,” 
“Not possible,” He tutted, “And you need to sleep- now,” He nuzzled into her neck, his nose bumping against her ear. 
“I just wanna stay up kissing,” She scrunched her nose up, her lip raising in disappointment. 
Lando’s laugh was breathy against her skin, his hand idly swiping across her stomach to maintain some sort of touch. “Tomorrow. We’ll spend all of tomorrow kissing- I promise,”
That was satisfactory enough. She stared up at the ceiling, a complete different scenario from when she’d done exactly this last time with Lando laying on her. This time, there wasn’t a single cloud of doubt in her mind. She knew how much he loved her, she felt right being so close to him, not worried for how things might change between them and if it would be awful the day after. She just needed to keep faith and keep communication.
As she felt her eyelids getting too heavy to keep hers open, she swiped her hand over Lando’s forehead to push his hair up and place a kiss there. He looked up at her slightly, and with a smile, “Oscar lives in Melbourne,” He looked confused, probably thinking that he was mishearing her from lack of rest. “Huh?” His voice all deep and scruffy from sleep. 
“The flight from Perth to Melbourne is over 3 hours- you can’t really just pop down the street to go visit Oscar,” Lando laughed weakly at that. He shrugged, wiggling up closer towards her so his chin was over her shoulder.
“He’ll come visit- he’ll be ecstatic to know that we’re on good terms again,” Her hand drifted up under his shirt, her thumbs pressing into the joints of his back.
“Oscar and ecstatic are two words that absolutely do not go together,” She mused, a complete disconnect from her mind and whatever her hand was doing. All she knew was that Lando was enjoying it based on the noises he was letting out.
“A half smile may dance across his mouth at the joyous information,” God , Lando had such a strange way with words. 
“You’re weird ,” 
“You love me,”
“I really do,”
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hgfictionwriter · 1 day
Text
Bliss
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you are on your honeymoon. She can't keep her hands off of her new wife.
Warnings: Smut. Pool sex, facesitting, slight overstimulation, etc.. Language as well.
A/N: Okay. I'm a little out of control on this one. Buckle up because it's long. My imagination went a little crazy. Based on this request.
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"Jessie, come look at the pool. It looks beautiful at night with all of the lights."
Jessie hummed as she came up behind you, gently pressing herself against your back and wrapping an arm around your waist. She tilted her head down to lay a soft kiss at the base of your neck. You chuckled lightly at how her breath tickled your skin.
"Want to take a dip?" She asked, subconsciously swaying both of you gently from side to side as you looked out the glass doors of your honeymoon suite.
You turned your head back to look at her with a quiet smile. "That sounds perfect."
You both got changed into your swimsuits and Jessie went in first. Once she was in she turned and reached up to offer you her hand. You took it and let her guide you into the private pool attached to your suite. Tall bushes and trees lined the area, ensuring privacy and freeing you from any prying eyes.
You smiled as she took a seat, the water resting just below her shoulders, and pulled you onto her lap. You readily obliged, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she held you.
"How is my wife liking her honeymoon so far?" She asked as she looked up to you. Your smile widened immediately at the acknowledgement of your new title. Marriage wasn't even something you necessarily knew you'd wanted growing up, but after meeting Jessie and falling in love with her, becoming her wife felt all too right.
"It's gorgeous," you told her as you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. "And how is my beautiful wife liking her honeymoon?" She grinned into the kiss.
"Even more amazing than I'd dreamed it would be," she told you. Even with the recessed lights around the pool, the area was fairly dark and you weren't sure if she could see your blush.
You'd been together for several years and it still warmed your heart when she spoke so romantically with you. Jessie wasn't known as an openly sentimental person, so for her to make such statements so unabashedly with you still made you feel special.
You deepened your kiss and thumbed her cheek tenderly. The past few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind with the wedding and all of the obligations and activities that went along with it. It felt like you two had been going full tilt for ages between the wedding, her competitions, and your work. You were grateful to be able to slow down and finally spend some time together, just the two of you. You knew she felt the same by how clingy she was leading up to this. Always with a hand on your back, her pinky hooked with yours, or her chin on your shoulder, with "I miss you" texts sprinkled throughout.
You loved that this composed - sometimes guarded - woman was so soft and loving with you.
"I can't believe you're finally my wife," Jessie whispered between kisses, awe in her voice.
"Took you long enough, Fleming," you teased, pulling a grumble out of her. Her fingers dug into your hips slightly as she gave you a pouting glare.
"I've been calling you my 'future wife' since year one," she protested lightly. You chuckled and kissed her placatingly.
"I know, my love. I'm just teasing. I never doubted your commitment or intentions."
"Good," she said with lingering disapproval. "Don't make me pull out years-old texts to friends and family where I told them I was going to marry you."
You pulled back and cocked your head curiously. "I don't know - I mean that sounds very appealing to me."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Jessie said as she rolled her eyes playfully and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms more fully around you and leaning down to kiss your collarbone.
"In the meantime," she went on, her voice now low, "I can think of some other ways to reassure you."
"Mm, you think?" You played along, letting your head fall back a bit and inviting her to kiss up your neck. "Tell me all about it." You felt her smirk against you.
"You know I'm really more of a doer than a talker."
Your body tensed up as you felt her tongue sneak out for a teasing lick before her lips closed on the sensitive skin of your neck and she sucked lightly. You rocked your hips in her lap without thought and she reached up to start massaging your breasts.
She took her time teasing you and small whimpers escaped your throat as the aching between your legs grew greater and greater for her.
"You really don't need these," she announced as she reached down to hook a couple of fingers into the band of your bikini bottoms and gave a tug. You reluctantly lifted off of her long enough for her to pull them down your legs and she discarded them on the pool deck.
When you settled back down onto her lap, she massaged your thighs with her strong fingers, her head tilted back as she watched you grind yourself down onto her lap in need. She smirked.
"God, I'm lucky. I have the most beautiful wife," she told you.
You gave a gentle laugh that was quickly cut off with a soft gasp when her hand nestled itself between your legs and her fingers began to explore between your folds.
"Oh my god," she said with a lazy smile as she looked up at you. "I can't believe this is all mine. You feel so amazing every time."
"God, baby, don't tease me. I need you," you told her as you rocked against her fingers, begging her to enter you.
You hadn't had sex since the night before your wedding. You weren't supposed to see each other - stupid superstitions and all - but you'd snuck out to meet, just to check in and because you missed each other. Well, it just so happened that your little rendezvous ended with her fingers deep inside of you, her lips on yours. Still, since then it had been longer than either of you liked because things had been so busy. You needed her badly.
She hummed and leaned up to kiss you.
"Whatever my wife wants, she gets."
A small groan of appreciation fell from Jessie's lips as she slowly sunk into you. She watched with eager eyes as your back arched and you let your head fall back in immediate pleasure.
"I love you so much," Jessie told you as she took your form in, cast in the soft glow of night. She bit her lip as you gripped her fingers. "You're so tight. I love it."
"Oh God, Jessie," you moaned softly as you slowly rode her fingers, aided by the buoyancy of the water, "I love the way you fill me."
Jessie's head rolled back against the edge of the pool as she bit her lip watching you. "Fuck, I love when you talk like that." You leaned into her, allowing your lips to brush against her ear.
"Like what?" You whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when you felt her shoulders tense and her free hand gripped your hips harder. "Like when I tell you I'm aching for you. How incredible it feels when your thick, strong fingers fill me. Stretching me."
You continued to ride her slowly, arousal building at how you heard her breathing grow heavier and she started to rock back against you with greater emphasis.
"How when you curl your fingers inside of me the way you do, it makes me weak in the knees. The way you play with my clit sends waves of pleasure through me. And how just the sound of your voice, the way you're breathing right now, the way you're rocking your hips against me, gets me dripping wet for you."
"Fucking hell, babe," Jessie cursed, almost in a hypnotic daze from your words. "You're going to make me fucking cum and I'm the one fucking you right now."
"Is that so?" You teased as you sat back to look at her, running your fingers through her hair before leaning down and kissing her deeply, grinding down into her hand harder.
She tilted her head up, readily meeting your kiss and then some before pumping into you with firmer, faster strokes. She smiled as you whimpered into the kiss, tensing up at the new sensation. She bit your bottom lip, giving it a tug.
"I'm going to make love to you again, and again, and again tonight," she whispered as she kissed along your jawline, bringing up her free hand to run through your hair before cupping the back of your neck and kissing along the side of your neck.
A low moan escaped you and your dug your fingers into her scalp. She groaned in response and nipped at youf as she continued to thrust skillfully into and out of you, her thumb circling your clit.
"Jessie," you panted.
"You look so gorgeous in the moonlight," she said. You opened your eyes to look down to see her watching you steadily with love and affection.
"I love you so much, Jess," you told her between breaths.
She let out a shuddering breath and leaned you back slightly so she could fully appreciate your form. Her free arm gripped you tighter and she started bouncing you up and down on her, pulling you down onto her fingers with greater force and picking up the pace.
Your mouth fell open and you felt that familiar tightening begin in your core. She knew the signs.
"Cum for me, baby," she told you as she watched you - this beautiful woman she could now call her wife, start to come undone on account of her.
You dug your nails into the base of her neck and dragged your fingers down. She leaned into the touch, not breaking her gaze from you for a second. You convulsed around her fingers and she continued to curl her fingers inside of you, drawing out your orgasm.
In time, your breathing slowed once more and the tension in your shoulders, legs and back melted away and you floated fully into her arms. She held you against her, her fingers still inside of you as she continued to lay lingering kisses along your collarbone.
Eventually she chuckled. You nudged her head with yours in question, still too spent to speak.
"The private pool was worth the extra money," she told you, drawing a laugh out of you. She squeezed you in her arms. "I love you."
When you were ready, you both got out of the pool and went inside to rinse off in the shower. Your hands were all over each other the entire time and you were locked in a hungry kiss. You'd just hit your climax a few minutes ago, but as her hands roamed your body and as you ran yours along hers, appreciating the meticulously sculpted dips and curves of her defined muscles, that familiar heat between your legs returned.
You were toweling off and you couldn't break your eyes away from her. Her tanned skin brought out her freckles and you couldn't help but swallow at the sight of her muscles moving and flexing as she dried herself off. You stepped forward and she gave you a curious look as you took the towel from her and began drying her off for her.
Soon, you gently pushed her back against the bathroom counter and began kissing down her stomach. Her abs twitched as you trailed your tongue down them. You dropped the towel to the ground and brought your hands up to her sides, letting your nails graze down until they rested on her hips.
You knelt down before her on the towel and looked up at her. She unknowingly licked her lips and leaned back into the counter, her hands now gripping the edges.
"You are absolutely perfect," you told her as you moved your hands down her muscular thighs and nudged them open.
She exhaled heavily and you saw her knuckles growing white already.
A taut moan escaped Jessie's throat as you leaned up and ran your tongue along her folds. You smiled at how wet she was - and it wasn't from the shower.
"I adore the way you taste," you told her as you tilted your chin up into her and continued to lick up and down her.
You watched as her head fell back and she rolled her shoulders out. You moaned into her. She was gorgeous to begin with, but with her head thrown back like that, it accentuated the chiseled structure of her jaw and the angles of her neck.
You leaned up into her further, rising on your knees more and you brought your hands around to grip her gorgeously sculpted ass. You kneaded the muscles there and she groaned low in her chest.
She let go of the counter and placed both hands on the back of your head, her fingers digging into you. You moaned into her and she started to bend her knees and rock into you mouth.
"Baby, you make me feel so good," she told you as she intermittently gripped your hair. You wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. She let out a high moan and her knees gave just slightly before she caught herself.
She bit her lip with a low chuckle and looked down at you.
"I wish I had my wedding ring on," she breathed, locking eyes with you. "I want to see the band catch the light, my hand on the back of your head while you're on your knees for me."
Your eyes fluttered shut and you groaned heavily into her, the vibration causing her legs to give again and her hands tightened in your hair once more.
"You're gonna make me cum," she told you, her voice raspy as she rolled her hips against your mouth.
You continued unwaveringly and you heard her breathing grow strained and heavy. You opened your eyes when she moved one hand back to the counter, bracing herself. Her eyes were screwed shut, her jaw clenched and her thighs began to flex around your head.
"Oh fuck. Y/N." Your name echoed off the tile walls as Jessie tensed up around you and she inhaled sharply, practically whimpering as her orgasm took her.
Seeing her like this, riding out her orgasm, never, ever got old. It astounded you that you were the one that she let take her over the edge.
When she relaxed, she released your hair and her body slumped back against the counter. Her mouth was agape as she worked to catch her breath and her eyes were momentarily unfocused before honing in on you.
"Jesus," she said as she forced herself to stand back up. You rose from the floor, wrapping your arms around her waist and she gave a breathless laugh. "I wasn't expecting that."
"It's our honeymoon, baby," you told her as you narrowed your eyes playfully. "You can't have all the fun." She let out a single breath as a laugh.
"I don't know. I'd say I have been having all the fun so far." She looked at you wordlessly for a moment, a hint of a smile of her face before she cupped your cheek. "You're the one. I hope you always know that."
You smiled and gave her a kiss. "Well, feel free to remind me now and then."
She didn't speak right away, again just taking you in before suddenly her hands were under you and lifting you up. You squealed and wrapped your arms and legs around her as she carried you over to the bed. She set you down and climbed on, moving past you so she was laying on her back.
"On me," she told you. You smirked and crawled up the bed, swinging your leg over her waist and settling yourself on her hips. Your wet core made contact with her skin and she arched an eyebrow smugly at you.
"Like this?" You asked teasingly.
"You fucking know it," she affirmed with a smirk of her own. She gripped your hips and pulled you down against her as she rocked her hips up. "You're ready for me already, baby. Did seeing me cum for you turn you on?"
"You fucking know it did," you returned playfully.
Her eyes were bright as she watched you. She reached down and you lifted your hips to make room for her hand. She dug her head back into the pillow as her fingers slipped through your folds.
"I could never get tired of this. Every time I feel how wet you are for me it's like the first time all over again. God I love you."
"Well, I guess it's a good thing you made me your wife," you said as you ground yourself against her teasing fingers.
You threw your head back, a moan flowing freely from your throat as she sunk her digits into you.
"Say it again," she commanded. You came back to the moment and brought your head back down to look at her. She gazed up at you with hooded eyes.
"I'm your wife," you told her as you rose up on her fingers to the tips and sunk back down.
"You're my wife," she repeated with a satisfied smile, her other hand roaming up your side to cup your breast.
Words ceased as you started riding her. While outside in the pool was somewhat measured and sensual, now the motions were fast and hard as you rode her and she met you with fervour. Your head was thrown back and your needy moans filled the room as she filled you repeatedly to the brim before drawing out and sparking your desire all over again.
"God, you fuck me so good, Jess," you told her as she sent sensation after sensation through you. She grunted in response, eyes transfixed on you, and quickened her movements.
You were nearing your high when she stilled and held your hips in place.
A shameless whimper escaped you and you let your head fall back forward to look down at her in question. She didn't answer, she merely bucked her hips using the momentum to push you off and she shuffled down slightly before guiding you up the bed.
"Jess," you managed to say as she held you above her face.
"I want to taste you," she told you.
"Oh my god," you said, your legs already trembling as you knelt over her.
"I've got you," she said as she braced your thighs with her hands. "Come on, baby. I can take it," she encouraged. "You look fucking amazing from here." Her hands held you and she gently, but firmly pushed you down towards her waiting mouth.
A quick gasp escaped you as she reached up with her tongue.
"Jess, I don't know if I'm going to last long," you warned her. She took this as an invitation and pulled you down into her more fully. She laid her tongue flat on you and gave a few slow, soft licks before delving in.
You gasped again and leaned forward to brace yourself on the headboard. You glanced down to see Jessie, eyes closed, rolling her head side to side as she explored you, sending delicious pulses through your core while her biceps popped as she held you in place.
"Oh my god, Jess," you panted as you began to roll your hips against her tongue. Her grip tightened as she groaned into you.
The sounds of her lapping up your juices and moaning into you were driving you wild. Never mind the sight of her between your legs as she devoured you. You brought one hand down and gripped her hair.
"Jessie," you said as you felt your climax quickly approaching. She embraced it fully as she dug her fingers into your legs and tilted her chin into you.
"Fuck," you cursed as you began to spasm around her. You braced your hand on the wall as your legs threatened to give way.
Jessie held you steadily and moaned in appreciation as your arousal started to drip down her chin. She slowed her actions and gave you some reprieve. For now. You went to move off of her, but she held you in place.
"Baby," you half-pleaded, half-warned. Instead of letting you go, Jessie laid one slow, languid lick from your entrance up to your clit. You released a shaky gasp and your whole body shuddered.
Soon she was slowly lapping at you again and a series of "Oh my god"s fell from your lips as she sent more and more waves of pleasure through you.
She continued her attention and despite how amazing it felt, your legs were shaking and your thighs burned. You were so tired you could barely hold yourself up even with her help.
"Jessie, I can't," you panted.
She relented this time, and she reached up with one hand to brace your back and she rolled you both, somehow keeping her mouth fixed between your legs as she laid you out on your back.
The burning in your thighs was immediately pushed from your mind as Jessie tucked her knees under her, pushed your legs back and leaned her head further into you. You covered your face at the sensations that were rolling through your body and she worshipped you incessantly.
You pushed your head back into the mattress and dug your fingers through your hair as you felt Jessie trace her fingers around your soaking entrance. A heady moan escaped you as she slipped easily inside.
Her strokes were slow and patient as she continued to suck on your clit. You writhed beneath her and soon she lifted her head up, her fingers not missing a beat, as she began to kiss her way up your body. When her lips reached your neck she began to tend to the skin there with slow kisses.
"I love you so much," she said as she gently added a third finger, stretching you further.
"Oh my God, Jessie." Your voice was high with need and you were short of breath as you wrapped your arms and legs around her and clutched her tightly to you. She tucked her free arm under your back and pulled you close as she continued to tenderly stroke in and out of you.
"Y/N," she whispered, her head lolling against yours now, her lips grazing your ear. "I'm going to spend every day making sure you know how much I love you." Her fingers curled inside of you with slow, steady thrusts. "You'll never have to question it."'
Your moans increased and you both tightened your grip on one another. You could feel that coiling sensation deep inside of you building already and you dug your nails into her back.
Her nails dug into you and she teeth sunk into your skin briefly. You felt her back arching over you as she stroked you deeper.
“I can’t wait to keep building my life with you,” she declared, her own body writhing against you as she made love to you.
"If it was up to me," she said, voice husky as she panted above you, "you'd be leaving here with my baby inside of you."
Your mouth fell agape and you tossed your head further back, a shameless moan filling the room.
"Jess." Her name came out of your mouth as a needy whine. "Holy fuck. I'm gonna cum again."
A cry fell from your lips as another orgasm rocked you. You screwed your eyes shut, but it still felt like your vision went hot white. You mindlessly clawed at Jessie's back and she maintained her rhythm, coaxing you through before slowing to a stop and resting inside of you.
Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled to catch your breath. You didn't even realize she was laying soft, faint kisses along your shoulders as she waited for you to come around.
You weren't sure how much time passed before you were able to open your eyes and look at her. There had been other times where she'd pushed you to the absolute brink and you expected her to wear the same cocky look she normally would, but instead she was watching you with pure adoration.
"You're my favourite person in this whole world," she told you with a warm smile. You managed a small laugh.
"And you're mine."
She kissed your cheek and gave you a smirk. "You better get some rest. This is only day one, after all."
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pit-and-the-pen · 3 days
Note
Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!
Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.
The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.
Hope you like it! <3
Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!
WC: ~1.7k
Divider by @cafekitsune
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My  wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height. 
When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch. 
Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out. 
I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.
Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.   
I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter. 
A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk. 
“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down. 
He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.
“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg. 
“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom. 
People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame. 
“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out
“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.
“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach. 
“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest. 
“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses. 
“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly. 
“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins. 
“Bite me.”
 “With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand. 
“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles. 
My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side. 
“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.  
“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back. 
“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. 
“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder. 
He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks. 
“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up. 
I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle. 
“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear
“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”
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imdead770 · 21 hours
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anything for Luke and a daughter of hecate, ANYTHING FOR THEM......
had to do my research for this one
for context Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, magic, ghosts, stuff like that. There's probably more but that's what I got from my one minute google search
I kept this kind of fluffy because I wanted to switch it up, I hope that's okay! If you want smut feel free to request again 🩷
Enjoy!
Luke didn't known much about your mother, most people didn't. She was one of the smaller goddesses. Well, not small, she just wasn't as well known as Athena or Aphrodite. He had heard her name a few times around camp, not thinking much of it. He didn't pay much attention to the name until he realized your own name was associated with it. Whenever you came to camp, eventually getting claimed by Hecate, he started to do his research. He started listening if one of the counselors talked about her or reading more thoroughly if he saw her name in a book. He wanted to learn more about her for one reason; to get closer to you.
Once he learned more about her, he started seeing the resemblances between the two of you. Your long, silky dark hair was exactly how some book described your mother, as well as your overall beauty. If Hecate hadn't of claimed you, it probably would have been Aphrodite. It also made sense why you and some of the Hades' kids were close, you were all connected to the dead. Another thing that made you alike, you were magical. Something about you almost made him feel as if he was put under some sort of spell. Every time you walked into a room, smiling and laughing, it was as if you enchanted him. Every time he was the cause of your laughter, he would melt, almost as if you had cursed him to fall in love with you.
He didn't know how, but your godly parent eventually came up in a conversation. And God's had he prepared for this moment.
"Yeah, she can control ghosts and magic n' all that, right?"
All of that research was worth it. The way you looked at him, your face holding one of your signature, beautiful smiles.
"Yeah... she can. How'd you know that?"
"Uh... I dunno, I've just always found her interesting."
He managed to get out that excuse, you seemed to believe it. Your smile only grew, sending butterflies into his stomach again.
As the two of you kept talking, your mother fading away and the conversation becoming more natural, he was all smiles. He was smiling for a few reasons. One being that he was proud of himself for being productive and learning about your mother. The main reason, though, was you. How your lips moved when you talked, your sing-songy voice leaving them as you joked around with him. He hadn't realized he was starring until you pointed it out.
"Luke? Are you okay? You're like zoning out or something."
"Hm?"
He forced himself to look away from your gorgeous smile, meeting your eyes. They looked stunning. The light hit them perfectly, giving them a magical glow as if your mother was casting a spell from Olympus. As if she and Aphrodite were cursing him to fall head over heels in love and not have a single say in it. Once again he was zoning out, gazing into your eyes like a lovestruck fool. He could've mustered up another excuse if he kept his mouth shut. That only confirmed his theory of being cursed.
"You have really pretty eyes, yknow.."
Shit. He didn't even mean to say that, the words just left his lips. Your mother must've hated him. He wanted to go and dive off the dock and never come back up for air. He was about to go do so until you spoke again.
"Yeah..?"
Since he had been looking down like a flustered idiot, he hadn't noticed the way your smile grew after his words. He hadn't noticed the way your eyes lit up, nor the way you were blushing yourself. Not as badly as him, but you were still blushing.
"..Yeah."
He looked back up to meet your eyes again, finally noticing how your smile became a grin. He couldn't help but mimic the expression, it was infectious.
He didn't notice how you had scooted closer, bit he did notice how you leaned in. He noticed how your beautiful eyes softly closed, and he especially noticed how your lips met his. It all happened so fast, but Gods.. it was magical.
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fragmentedblade · 8 months
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Insane that Blade during Todd's quest did basically the same thing Dan Heng was doing during this last video
#Fragments and scraps#I talk too much#I had just finished Todd's quest and I had so many questions and hypotheses and then the video dropped#And goodness it gave me even more things to ponder but I also think it kind of cleared things up when it came to what was Blade mourning#I also wondered whether this came after Kafka's companion mission but now I'm pretty sure it comes before it? I think it makes sense#Seeing confirmation of Yingxing being old looking was so hard to watch whilst compared to how young Jing Yuan sounds in Chinese#And when seeing him alongside Jingliu and Baiheng‚ who were both mature women when he was a little kid#No wonder he is so prideful of his craft. He deserves it. I really adore how they implemented a lot of details in the worldbuilding#and sidequests that throw light towards the characterisation and story of some of the main characters#Specifically I can't stop thinking about Yingxing in the context of how we see shortlife humans are regarded by some people on the Xianzhou#and especially in the context of the sidequest about the master and the apprentice. Everything it implies#Anyway... This video broke me. The confrontation between Dan Heng and Dan Feng was hard enough#(guy leave the boy alone‚ *he* has nothing to repent of) as well as beautiful. Some shots were gorgeous and full of symbolism#But seeing the five friends... goodness. Yingxing's bitter smile carries a weight that I think goes beyond him losing to Jingliu#given his age and how young his friends look. The way Jing Yuan reacts as if having the braincell but also teasing them was so him#The way his voice broke later on while reading Imbibitor Lunae's punishment took me out#Baiheng reminded me a bit of March 7th in this video. It may be due to how March reacts to Dan Heng's melancholic air towards the end#And how Baiheng reacts to Imbibitor Lunae's and Yingxing's at the beginning. I don't know if the parallelism was purposeful but I loved it#They all felt actually a lot closer than I expected. Mainly Jingliu. I expected her to be close only to Baiheng given what Jing Yuan says#The images that flash over the sentence were so good and so heartbreaking#Yingxing looking at the figure over the moon‚ his chest being pierced by the sword Blade now wields‚#Jingliu blindfolded slicing something‚ someone suspended in chains‚...#And the heavy absence in those images of Jing Yuan‚ whose breaking voice hovers over them all#Truly brought back to mind Blade's line about him. How he knew better than anyone but he did or said nothing#And how he is not one of those who must pay#Everything was so charged I wanted to scream or jump off a cliff. The way the faces of Dan Heng and Dan Feng superimpose ugh#Truly everything was so good#I have so many thoughts about it I can't stop thinking hahaha#But I better shut up already. I should sleep a bit#I want to scream though. The Dan Heng/Blade parallelism makes me want to drown a sea‚ ontological barriers be damned haha
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fleshdyke · 2 years
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just saw chicago yawllll
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ariaste · 9 months
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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--
Proem
A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it. 
You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.
But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand. 
I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.
The Facts As We Know Them
Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)
Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2: 
1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.
2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.
3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.
With me so far? Great.
The Elephant In The Room
Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.
I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:
“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”
All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick. 
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.
I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece. 
You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!
Yes, of course I will explain myself.
Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this: 
Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too. 
As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive  colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good. 
On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.
What does that tell us?
Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.
Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.
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(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)
If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??
It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?
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See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)
So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)
This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.
The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?
The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence
There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige. 
First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.
To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”
You have to bring it back.
When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:
You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.
Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.
Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:
The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?
Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”
When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)
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pinkhelados · 3 months
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miguel x wife!reader 。゚(゚´ω`゚)゚。
includes: fem!reader, latina!reader, miggle being a simp, p in v sex, praise kink, very slight dacryphilia, not edited! Criticism is welcome!
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Miguel swore to you that he’s never make you cry. “Te lo juro, mi alma. Te hare la mujer más feliz del universo. No sentirás tristeza cuando estes en mis brazos.” He remembered saying and he meant it, what kind of a man would make a woman as beautiful as you cry? Miguel was a man of his word, after all.
Well, until now.
Miguel found himself balls deep in your pussy with his talons digging into the fat of your hips. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he just couldn’t help himself when your weeping cunt tightened around his girthy cock like a vice. “Fuck,” He groaned. “Eres- eres tan bonita,” Miguel said with each thrust. His chocolate rown hues stared lovingly into your pretty eyes. Those same pretty eyes that had fat tears of pleasure rolling down your skin as he pushed his dick further into your creamy pussy. “Too good, it’s too good,” You hiccuped. More tears dribbled down your cheeks which were quickly kissed away by your tender husband.
“Good, pretty girl,” You heard him grunt, his thrusts becoming sloppily. He was trying so hard not to cream inside that little cunt of yours. The same man who swore to you on your wedding night that he’d never want to see you weep was getting off on your tears. “Look at your pretty pussy, nena. It’s sucking me in,” He said between breaths, mesmerized by the sticky strings of arousal connecting you every time his hips pulled back. How could you be so pretty? “My wife, my perfect wife. I love you, baby.” Miguel was babbling and his head was churning out thoughts by the second. He could only focus on making you cum.
Slap, slap, slap.
“Miguel! Miguel! Mmngh~!” Saliva dripped down your chin and more gloopy tears spilled from your gorgeous eyes. Each thrust was a kiss to your sweetspot, pussy dripping sweet nectar which left a ring around the base on Miguel’s cock. “Te amo, cariño,” You squealed just as the knot in your tummy tightened as well as your legs around his waist. You were close, and Miguel would stop at nothing until he felt your cunt flutter around him. Despite drilling into your hole, his eyes were soft as he brushed your hair away from your eyes. He was drenched in passion with sweat sticking to his tan skin.
“M’ gonna cum~ C-Can’t hold it,” You whispered and you saw a switch in your husband flip.
Miguel’s talons retreated into his fingers and with strenght, he flipped you over on your stomach and went haywire. Kneading your ass, he whimpered as he chased so desperately after the pleasure. “Close- Cum- cum with me! Nena~” His plush lips fell open and his load filled your womb just as your own sticky fluids ran down the skin of your thighs. Your soaked pussy fluttered and a loud call of his name rang out. “Oh..oh god.”
Spent, Miguel flipped over next to you with labored breaths. His strong arms came around your waist and pulled you on top of his chest. “Miggy,” you purred and kissed his lips. The dim room lighting glinted of the glossy skin of your lover and you swore that your heartbeat had become impossibly fast. The two lovers panted heavily in each other’s arms, waiting for their energy to return so that they could do at all over again.
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stsgluver · 9 months
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synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.
wc. 1.2k
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gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.
the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.
as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.
his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.
still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.
gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.
but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.
within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.
"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.
the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.
satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"
"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.
you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.
he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.
his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."
you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."
"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."
"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.
"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.
that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.
"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.
"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"
satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.
"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."
"lay with me."
"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.
he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."
gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.
but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.
and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.
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a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx
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bunny584 · 2 months
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OBSESSED: YUTA (PT. II)
A/N: Special grade lover boy finally has you, his dream girl, in his hands. Surely he’ll be able to handle it…right?
S/N: This one is for the anon(s), the Yuuta girlies. I hope this means I get to rush Yuta Phi Alpha next year!! 🤭 (you can read part I here )
C/W: Yandere themes, aged up characters (21+), Mature, 18+
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Any minute now.
You should be calling, any minute now.
Yuuta rolls his favorite pair of your underwear into a cylinder.
Even. Perfect.
He tucks it next to the 14 other perfectly even cylinders he’s taken from you.
An impressive collection, considering that it’s been only 3 months since he’s been back from Morocco.
3 months since you eviscerated the barrier between fantasy and reality.
You touched him. You kissed him. His building blocks came crashing down at your feet.
And yet, you still don’t see him.
It’s been torture.
Purgatory.
Falling back into the platonic, easy insteps of friendship. Breathy giggles. Air tight hugs. Feather light kisses.
On his cheek.
Friendly gestures as thin as the air on the summit of Mount Everest.
Leaving Yuuta the same way, every time.
Desperately tugging his cock.
Filling your stolen lingerie with his seed. Marking you. Branding you as his over and over again. In the confines of his quiet, sterile apartment.
Sullied by his lewd coping mechanisms. Babbling your praises day in and day out. The paintings on his walls know you by name.
Because you’re his.
Yuuta has chosen to love you every minute between sunrise and sunset and sunrise again. Ever since his cold met your warmth.
From afar. In the dark. Meticulously crafting the blueprint of your future together. Where you love him, freely. Openly. Without input from your friends or exes.
You need him.
Why else would he be the first person you call after every date?
Agonizing about whether you said the right thing. Or wore the right thing. Leaving a long list of people Yuuta has to take care of.
Not that he minds. He loves helping you.
Beautiful, silly girl.
Can’t you see?
He’s already created a gorgeous life for you two. He’ll give you the stars. The moon. A whole galaxy if you want it.
True, mutual love.
He just has to make you see it.
See him.
“There you are.” Your ringtone is his personal call bell.
Yuuta was starting to think you were going to use your girlfriend’s shoulder to cry on instead of him.
You were supposed to be out on a third date tonight. But you’re not. When it comes to picking up the pieces after your frivolous little flings — Yuuta is always your go to.
“Hey you.”
His palm caresses the heavy bulge in his pants. Tone is steady. Unassuming.
“Yuuta?” Soft sobs intertwine with his name, and it’s decadent.
“Hey. Hey.” Yuuta’s fingers impatiently tug down his zipper. Adams Apple sliding down the column of his neck, swallowing a moan.
You sound so pretty like this.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“Can I…can I just come over?”
“Yes..of course you can.” Each word rolls off his tongue carefully. A stark contrast to the storm winds rattling his heart around its cage.
Broken, teary whines kiss his ears and glide down his spine. Yuuta pulls his cock free. Smearing pearly beads of pre cum around his swollen head. His body is so well trained for you. Primed to your voice. Your touch. Your gaze.
“You’re the best, Yuu.”
A satisfied grin blooms across Yuuta’s face. He uncurls his long fingers from around his base.
No more self indulgence. Not yet.
Tonight is about you.
“See you soon.”
—-
Is this wrong?
This is wrong.
…right?
Your fingers plait together. Shifting weight between your feet.
Staring at Yuuta’s door, knowing your dark-haired, sleepy-eyed friend is probably watching the clock. Anticipating your arrival.
Maybe you shouldn’t vent to him about other guys.
Maybe you shouldn’t use him to soothe your broken heart.
But he’s so soft with you.
Patient. With open ears, open arms. His capacity for you seems limitless.
Always peering at you with those deep set, graphite eyes. Opaque, winter fog. Quick to muddle your sense of direction if you look into them long enough.
Kind, but so, so unsettling.
Before you can reason yourself away from his apartment, Yuuta pulls open his front door.
“Hey pretty,” his mellow greeting is a warm weighted blanket around your shoulders.
“Hi Yuu,” your arms snake around his neck. Because it’s comfortable. He’s comfortable.
His toned arms sink into your lower back. As if your waist was tailored to the contour of his muscle. A low sigh breezes against your neck.
“Come in.”
Yuuta is hushed. He always is. Perpetually whispering secrets for your ears only.
You follow the gentle sorcerer into his apartment. Low lit. Shadows from the candle wicks dancing along his walls. Beckoning you into his lair.
“I made you some tea, is that okay?”
Yuuta’s lithe fingers fidget against his thighs. Almost 4 years of friendship and he still hasn’t shaken his nervous ticks around you.
Sweet boy.
“Yes please,” your smile is already less gloomy.
Yuuta mirrors you with a lopsided smile of his own. Small dimples dusting a boyish charm over his otherwise haunting features. He shuffles to the kitchen. And you take in his broad shoulders. Lean, muscular physique.
He really is handsome.
Eerily beautiful.
Effervescent porcelain skin, deepened from the Moroccan sun. Acute, angular jaw line. High cheekbones. Thick, raven hair that’s always a little storm-tossed.
A crescent moon against a clear night sky. Watching over souls trapped in their own personal graveyards.
There’s something about him that always seems…heavy.
Constantly balancing the weight of the world on his back.
Or something.
You settle in the couch just as Yuuta materializes into the living room. Stealthy, quiet footsteps. If he wasn’t the one who let you in you could be convinced that you’re alone in his apartment.
“Be careful, it’s still hot.” Yuuta warns. His eyes linger on your lips. Memorizing each pucker.
He’s so close.
Sweet steam kisses his face with each blow. And he sits there. Perfectly opposite of your mug.
Unphased. Unblinking. Still.
Close enough to take a sip of his own.
“Thank you for letting me come over on short notice, Yuu.”
Your thighs startle beneath his wintry touch. Both palms, larger than you remember, knead the fleshiest part of your hips.
“Don’t thank me. I’m here for you.” His tone descends. A deep drawl laced with conviction.
“I’ll always be here for you.” Yuuta repeats, pads of his fingers indent into your skin.
Your eyes metronome between his.
Slowly evanescing into his firm, glacial touch. Hazy from his half lidded gaze. There’s no time space continuum between you two.
“Yuuta—“
“Tell me what happened.” Shards of glass rain down his dry windpipe. Willing with every cell in his body to remain neutral.
The gates open.
You’re so animated. It’s captivating. How you feel so many things.
The way your eyes flutter while telling him about how you were stood up. A call came out of the blue. A short, unsatisfying cancellation of your dinner date.
And Yuuta leans in. Nodding. Petting your mouth-fucking-watering thighs. Forcing himself to remember to move his eyebrows. And blink. And look away from Aphrodite every so often.
He knows the story.
He wrote the story.
And for the record, gorgeous. Your crush sounds pathetic when he’s begging for mercy.
Weak.
A man like that is beneath you.
Yuuta’s jaw loses tone.
Pretty crystals line your eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen. Red like Merlot stains on a bottle cork. Your mini skirt rides up a quarter inch higher by the second. Mostly from his fingers. Every time you gesticulate he caresses just a bit higher.
White noise fills the space between Yuuta’s ears. He’s inebriated. Incapacitated by the honey that seeps from your mouth every time you speak.
And he can’t keep ignoring the way his cock is thrashing against its barrier. Begging. Pleading for reprieve.
The Apple in the Garden of Eden.
And the consequences of his inevitable bite mean nothing to him.
“Please,” Yuuta interrupts. Barely above a whisper.
Your eyebrows crawl together at the center of your barbie doll face. So oblivious. Blissfully unaware of how you fuck his brain to nothing but smooth, empty, mush.
“I’m sorry I’m rambling—“
“No. No.”
Yuuta’s body moves before his mind can catch up. He slides off the couch to his knees. Nudging his hips between your legs. His muscular arms hook beneath your legs at lightening speed.
You have no time to gather words when he pulls you to the edge of the couch.
“Yuuta?” Delicate hands fly to his shoulders. Steadying yourself in this new, sudden position.
You’re heady. Shocked. Glassy eyed. Fully flushed from your button nose to ears.
You have no idea how addicting you are. Working sticky heat out of Yuuta’s needy length without even touching him.
He presses his lips into your inner thigh. Instinctively gripping your hips forward when you reflexively jump back.
“So perfect,” Goosebumps cascade along where his moist mouth traces.
“Y-yuuta, we...we’re friends.”
Yuuta drags his drunken gaze to meet yours. Resting his head in your lap. Feathering his icy hands up your butter soft skin.
“You’re so pretty.” He murmurs. Purposefully evading your observations.
He has some observations of his own.
Yuuta doesn’t miss the way his praise affects you. How your breath hitches. And your nails dig into his shoulders. Pupils blown to a full moon.
And the slow growing damp spot at the apex of your pink cotton panties. Yuuta can’t bring himself to stare at your precious rose. Not yet. He’ll cum in his pants if he looks now.
His slender nose traces up your quivering leg. And you bloom. Thighs drifting further apart. Making space for him. Inviting him in. Rewarding him.
“I can make you feel better.”
You gift him a pitiful little whine in response. Timid fingers travel into his nape. Yuuta’s heavy eyelids curtain his vision.
The room is spinning.
And Yuuta is kneeling at the only alter he will worship at. The only alter that will ever receive his devotion.
Those years of waiting. Wanting. Watching. Unsent love letters. Saved texts. Practiced conversations in the mirror. Stolen trinkets. Pieces of you he’s kept along the way.
It was all worth it.
Because the love of his life is spread open for him. Vulnerable. Needy. Melting beneath his touch like your body knows it belongs to him.
Yuuta couldn’t hold back if he wanted to.
“D..do you know how perfect you are?” Yuuta asks the warm, sore flesh beneath his lips. Admiring the trail of bruises he’s left up your inner thigh.
“Yuu, you don’t mean that.” You mewl and squirm like a brand new kitten. Mousing his hair between your fingers.
“I mean it. Y..you’re so…” his voice trails off when his trembling, pale digits finally press into your wet heat.
“S-soft. You’re so soft.” Drool pooling in his mouth chips away at his coherence.
Yuuta’s stormy eyes find the meeting point of his hand and your sex. The sight alone bucks his diamond hard shaft off of his leg. The friction from his damp boxers and rigid jean blurs his vision.
“Oh pretty girl.”
“Mmghhhh Y-Yuu..ah god.”
Both of your husky musings collide. Yuuta drives his long two fingers into your accepting, driveling opening.
He immediately curls up into your pleasure point. Eliciting the most dreamy, listless curve to your back. Tossing your head into the pillows behind you. Gripping his roots into your hand.
“Y-yuu, I need…please.”
Whimpers wrap around Yuuta’s cock and jerks him out of his fucked out state.
He didn’t realize he was open-mouth staring at how your cunt squeezes and tugs on his fingers. Leaking your dew onto your thighs. His fingers. His couch. Saliva streams down the corner of his mouth like he’s a starved animal.
He blinks up at you. Debauched. Lusty. Filthy in the way your hips are undulating against him. Taking your pleasure right out of his hands.
“I need…I need to hear you say it baby.”
Yuuta swipes his tongue against your clothed pussy. And you nearly buck off the couch.
“Please, y-yuu,” diamonds line your eyes again. So much pleasure in the pain of being teased.
“Say it, baby.” His breath kisses your swollen clit. “T-tell me what you need.”
“Lick..please, suck…Yuu,” He’s never heard a more beautiful plea. And his restraint was already teetering on a hair string.
Yuuta’s other free hand rips your panties away from your dewy folds. And his spine is set on fire.
The dull ache in his pelvis crashes into him like he’s at the deadly meeting point of the Atlantic, Pacific and Southern oceans.
“So..so pre..god.” Nonsensical words. Unintelligible noises.
Then his tongue circles your bud and he is gifted a taste of your elixir.
Somewhere between his pathetic sobs into your pussy, your gorgeous melody filling the room and how you grind your pretty petals along the length of his tongue — Yuuta isn’t sure he’ll be able to survive this.
At some point he pulled his cock free from its restraint. Spearing high and heavy in the air. Constant needy dribbles of pre cum staining his shirt, rolling down the length of his shaft. One or two drops even escaping to the floor between his knees.
He hasn’t stroked his length once. And he is this close to release.
And it is infuriating.
Yuuta hates how closely he is riding his peak right now.
Because he is not nearly done with you yet.
He wants you on his tongue. On his cock. For hours. He needs to coax orgasm after orgasm out of his one true love.
“Y-yuuta,” your right hand pulls at his head with all your strength. Yuuta has to bite back a whine.
His murky gaze meets your darkened one.
“Inside.” A clear, high-pitched command.
And Yuuta couldn’t dream of denying you. Of saying no to you, ever.
“O-okay, yes baby.”
He stumbles to his feet. Shakily working his jeans and boxers into a pile around his feet.
Your wide eyes and oh shaped mouth stains his face cherry red.
Why are you looking at him like that?
Is he not enough?
Were your other lovers bigger?
He’ll get rid of them if—
“Yuuta…will it fit?”
You shatter his spiral to stardust. He can breathe again for the first time since you came over.
Yuuta eagerly chases you up the length of the couch. Until he’s nestled comfortably in your legs. Your heat kissing along his drenched rod. Mixing your arousal with his.
“It’ll fit, because you’re made for me”
Yuuta rasps through tight lips. Burying his head into the gentle slope of your neck.
How is everything going exactly right and completely wrong at the same time?
He is more disciplined than this.
He is supposed to be in control.
But your warm, sweet petals sheath his length.
And you begin to circle your hips underneath him. Rubbing your nectar along his cock like you are marking him as yours.
Yuuta loses his sense of reality.
Unrelenting waves of heat ram into his groin. His cock stutters and beats against your precious cunt. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. Because everything dampens.
“No…n—no no wait!”
Yuuta smears protests into your neck. Hips rutting against your opening. Pressing you deep within the cushions. Rabid, uncontrolled movements. Ascending in pace faster than you can keep up.
“Fuck, fuck..”
“Yuuta? Are you cu—“
You have your answer the moment his hips hover over yours. Cupping his thick, blushing tip.
He fails to contain his explosion. Yuuta is mortified when stark white globs contrast your black mini skirt.
Air settles thick between you.
Circulating breaths between his clipped and your shocked ones. Decades pass between you before silence is broken.
“Don’t worry, Yuu! This doesn’t change anything.” Your smile is light and playful. Kind in the way that makes him fall in love with you again.
But…what do you mean?
Of course this changes everything.
He can please you.
He knows that.
This was just…
This was just one time.
The first time.
Amidst the cyclone of thoughts decimating Yuuta's brain, you’ve managed to wiggle around him. Currently lacing up your strappy heels.
Yuuta’s mouth lolls open but words fail to materialize.
Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you prance over to his side. Still frozen on the couch with a handful of his cum. In the messy remnants of his unwanted peak.
Your lips meet his cheek. And your next words run his blood subzero.
“We’re still friends! We’ll always be friends, Yuu.”
Yuuta’s steely eyes laser into your retreating figure with sniper precision.
Beautiful, silly girl.
You two will never be just friends.
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philip-the-nickel · 10 months
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Marketing did Elemental DIRTY
Just saw the movie, it was well worth the watch. The trailer made the movie look like some half assed race metaphor Zootopia ripoff with a canned, rehashed love story you've seen a million times.
Let me be clear, Elemental was none of the things the trailer made you believe it was.
First things first, The Romance:
There's a reason aro/ace people are flocking to this movie. The main couple falls in love without having to rely on any passionate kisses or hand holding; they fall for each other based on who they are, their personalities, their interests, their appreciation of the other's uniqueness. The central hand holding comes at a point in the movie well after the two are established as a couple, and have gone on many dates together. This movie makes their characters fall in love over mutual appreciation, not physical chemistry, and its such a genuine, sweet, wholesome romance to see play out
On top of that, this movie goes into a lot of aspects of immigrant life and the expectations that come with being a first born in a new country. The romance does not shy away from this or sweep it under the rug. The romance blossoms as the two learn more about each other, and come to understand and respect those differences.
Second, the movie isn't about romance, its about being an immigrant.
I came into this movie expecting zootopia 2: now with elements, and what I got was a heart-wrenching look into the life of a first generation child in a new land, born to immigrant parents. The movie absolutely does NOT sugar coat things, showing not only an ellis island moment of having your name changed, but also a number of topics ranging from having to navigate in a city made for people who are nothing like you, being denied housing, micro-aggressions, and straight up being denied entry to public places based on who you are.
The true heart of this movie is about the child of immigrants realizing the life she wants for herself, struggling with disappointing people who gave up everything they had so they could give you a better life, repaying that sacrifice and what a burden it feels like, and somehow facing the truth of who and what is staring back at you from the mirror.
Third, and lastly, the movie is absolutely beautiful
The trailers did this movie dirty. You never saw the refracting lights from firelight streaming through water, you didn't see the glassblowing, or how the fire dies down to barely a wisp when Ember is sad to burning like a wildfire when she's angry. You didn't see the scene underwater with the tree and |Spoilers|, you didn't see the world building or the character design that went into the background characters. This movie is absolutely beautiful, and uses light as both a visual treat and a metaphor for the movie's themes. Its absolutely gorgeous.
So, if you're wondering whether to skip this movie or watch it, I'm telling you now: ignore the trailers and go see this in theaters.
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Late Manchester Nights
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x pregnant!wife!reader
Word count: close to 700
Warnings: reader having to piss every 2 mins, simon being cute n fluffy, pregnancy?
Summary: The best nights are the ones spent at home.
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Late Manchester evenings spent at home were Simon’s favourites. Yours too. You both loved sitting at home, locking out the world, just the two of you. 
And it was about to get a whole lot better. 
Stroking a hand over your very swollen belly, you came back to the couch, after your third bathroom break of the evening. You curl into Simon again, sighing as you both continue watching the show you had put on. He strokes your hair as you two watch the show. You feel so comfortable and safe being wrapped up in his arms, especially since you’re in your third trimester and need the support. Simon’s touch always calms you down, his scent always reassuring.
“He kickin’? I feel something,” Simon breaks the silence between you two. 
“He’s always kicking,” you take his hand and place it on your belly. 
“Lil bugger’s strong, ain’t he?” he chuckles softly. “Only a month to go, lovie.”
“5 weeks, technically. And he’s strong like his daddy, just as annoying too,” you giggle. 
“I don’t know how I would’ve survived without you in my life. I don’t want to know what would’ve happened to me. I don’t wanna think about it,” he presses his lips to your forehead.
“Well, for starters, you’d probably never have a home cooked meal,” you tease.
“That’s true. I’ve always been hopeless in the kitchen. No one else could’ve ever taught me. You’ve really made a positive difference in my life. You gave me all the love I needed and more. You made me strong and taught me how to really love someone. Thank you, lovie, I don’t know how else to thank you for everything you’ve done. And I want you to know, I won’t stop ‘til I can make you just as happy as you make me.”
“You already make me so happy,” you lean against him, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re the best.”
He hugs you tightly, enjoying the closeness and the way he can feel your belly against his. He kisses you softly and brushes your hair out of your face. 
“I have to pee again.”
He groans and lets you get up, his arms falling by his sides. “I don’t get it. How many pints of piss could be in that lil body of yours, lovie? Y’can’t just have one pee every once in a while?”
You giggle at him as you waddle to the washroom. He laughs at you, shouting the word ‘penguin’ at you. 
When you come back, he’s still chuckling. You slap his shoulder as you sit down again, sighing. 
“You get more beautiful every day,” Simon whispers. 
“Really?” you look up. 
"You don't even realise your beauty. Every day I look at you, all I see is perfection. You're getting bigger and bigger with our baby but you don't look anything like a fat slob. Y'still as beautiful as the day I met you, if not more. And as you grow more beautiful, so does my love for you,” he mumbles, stroking your cheek. 
“You’re gonna make me blush,” you tease. “You're the best wife any man could ever ask for. I get to wake up next to my gorgeous, pregnant wife every morning, how does that not inspire happiness in me? I get to go home every night next to the light in my world and I don't dread seein' you. We had some rough patches at the beginning but we made it through, and now we get to spend the rest of our lives together,” he nudges your nose with his. “Perfection.”
“You’re too good to me,” you smile, leaning into him. “You know I couldn’t have found anyone better than you? And before you go on about that ‘I’m traumatised’ bullshit, just know that your whole past and everything you’ve been through is why I love you. It makes you stronger every day and I get to be the lucky person sitting by your side watching you become the best version of yourself. You are the best for me, Si.”
He smiles, kissing your forehead. 
“Hey Si?”
“Don’t say it, lovie.”
“I have to pee again.”
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medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months
Text
Mean! Perv! Billy Hargrove x innocent! Pastor daughter! Reader
♡masterlist♡
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MINORS DNI
Contains: Dub con, somnophilia near the end
༺*:゚・✧・:*:゚・♡ readmore ♡・゚:*:・✧・゚:*༻
♡ He would see you around town with your short dresses and the rosary hanging around your neck
♡ he thought you were so cute but you stayed away from him like the plague, your father told you all about billy hargrove how he was a womanizer, too consumed by lust, how he was no good.
♡ you had never actually spoken to billy, you had made eye contact a few times but you would quickly run off, that is until he was dragged to your father's church by his dad
♡ there he saw you standing near your mother at the front of the church, while your father gave a speech about something he didnt care about. He watched your doe eyes wonder around the church paying more attention to the stained glass windows
♡ he came up to you as everyone was talking, he stalked behind you noticing you were nervously playing with your fingers as if you didnt know what to do with your hands. You jumped when you felt his breathe on your neck
♡ shocked to see billy Hargrove of all people behind you, he cornered you against the wall trapping you from escaping.
"I- um cant talk right now m-my dad is probably wondering where I am I have to go-"
"Hold your horses princess, I just want to talk about our lord and saviour"
"You can talk to my dad he- um he knows a lot more than me"
♡ he somehow manages to keep you talking to him, enough to get you to ramble and prolong the conversation
"That is a lovely dress, it looks so beautiful you"
"Thanks my mom got it for me- actually she gets all my clothes, I'm not allowed to buy myself clothes without her permission- BUT I- i dont mind, I like what she picks out, makes me look nice a-and I dont like choosing things I'm very indecisive and I would probably be there all day so I'm actually happy she chooses my clothes because-"
♡ he simply stares at you while you talk not interrupting simply listening to you speak. He knows he makes you nervous, the way your eyes dart everywhere except his is laughable
♡ unfortunately the conversation is cut short by your father and his dad
"Billy hargrove, come to make a mockery out of my daughter?"
"No sir I've actually seen the light, your daughter was just telling me about you gorgeous church and how much of a loyal man you are to god. Honestly sir I have so much respect for you"
"I- well thank you- I've been doveted to our lord for as long as I remember it's nice for someone to finally acknowledge my efforts. I'm happy to help you find your way to god and banish those demons for good, your father and I were just talking about hanging out at my house perhaps you can come along, I'm sure Y/N is happy to help you with your journey"
"That would be lovely sir"
♡ who knew it sould be so easy to get access to you when he fuel your father's ego?
♡ the next week billy happily went over to your house, you were sat at the dining room table with a bible infront of you as well as some other books and sheets once again refusing to make eye contact with him as your father lead him to you.
♡ you meekly asked him a few questions about how much he knew and where he would like to start off on
"Wherever you would like doll"
♡ billy didnt pay attention to anything you were saying this time, too busy looking at the photos around your house and the decor. He only looked back at you when stumbled over your words and looked like you were on the verge of tears
"What's wrong sweetheart? You okay?"
"I- um I just dont think I'm the person you should be doing this with- i- I dont know why my dad put you up to this- I've never done this before I dont know what I'm doing"
♡ he smiled as tears rolled down your cheeks, your lips forming a pout which sent a shock down to his forming hard on. He placed his hand on your thigh causing you jolt
"That's okay, you're doing so good for me already. I already feel like a worthy man"
♡ you placed your hand on top of his, playing with his fingers as he massaged circles into your soft skin.
♡ he slid his hands further between your thighs, now feeling up your flesh and slowly making his way to the flower in between your legs
"Y-you cant do that you shouldnt be touching there- I- were not married- I'm going to go to hell if you do that-"
♡ you made no actual attempt at removing his hand, simply holding his wrist as he stared at you smirking, he glanced around to see if anyone was near.
"You're not going to hell it's not like we're doing anything against the lords rules, I'm just touching you. It cant be bad if it feels good, can it?"
♡ he grazes his lips over yours letting you smell the cigarettes and mint gum on his breathe, soon removing himself from you and turning to the table as the adults walk in
"Everything going okay In here?"
"Absolutely sir, Y/N here was just telling me about easter"
♡ your meetings soon became a scheduled event and nothing else had happened since that first meeting
♡ that was until your father had left you alone with billy, a horrible mistake on his part
♡ when he first noticed the quietness in the house he was worried he got the wrong date that is until you meekly walked out of the shadows and lead him to your usual spot at the dining table
"Where's your parents?"
"Hes out with your dad I- i think they're fishing.."
"What about your mom?"
"Shes at her book club..."
♡ the giddiness in billy was comparable to a child on Christmas. over the weeks he had gained your trust, convincing you that he was serious about god
♡ so when he suggesting going to your room instead you agreed (although hesitantly)
♡ walking into your room he immediately noticed the cross hanging above your canopy bed which was pushed against the wall. The curtains around it almost highlighted your sleeping area.
♡ he quickly noticed how embarrassed you were, perhaps it was the stuffed toys, or the light colours, or the photos on the walls?
♡ you ushered him on the bed quickly preferring him to not stare at the immature state of your bedroom, although you would prefer posters of your favourite singers, pictures of your friends you were unable to at wishes of your father
♡ much like your first meeting billy let's you ramble, his eyes focused on your lips, he isnt sure what you're talking about especially when you bite your lip when reading out your notes
"Have you ever kissed someone before?"
♡ the question makes you choke on your breathe, whipping your head to face him. spluttering out a sentence
"What?! Why would you ask me that?! I- cant kiss anyone- I- I'll be in so much trouble- I'm not allowed to kiss anyone-"
"Would you like to?"
♡ that quickly shut you up as you looked up at him, he tilts his head at you and moves closer to you, his breath making goosebumps rise on your skin
♡ he kisses your unresponsive lips, too shocked at what is happening to kiss back (not that you knew how)
♡ when he pulled back you were staring at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He grabbed your stuff and set it on your vanity, his hand traveled to your side and pushed you on your back
♡ he towered over you, your breath hitching in your throat, his arms either side of your head. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, it took a while for you to relax and try to follow his movements but you eventually got the hang of it.
♡ just as the man himself things got rough quickly, his hand in your hair and his tongue entering your mouth. You melted against him wrapping your arms around Billys shoulders
♡ when you broke apart for air your lips were puffy and swollen, billy was looking no better his hair was disheveled and his eyes were half lidded.
♡ he kissed the side of you face travelling to your jaw then towards your neck, where you gripped his shirt as he licked a stripe over your neck.
♡His hands wondered down to your chest, pulling your sundress down to reveal your bra to him
"Wait! Wait wait I- billy i cant- we shouldnt be doing this we should stop"
"Sh sh shhh just take what I give you"
♡ his hands continued their exploring, flipping your bra to reveal your soft nipples, leaning down his breath soon hardened them making you whimper
♡ he kissed your right nipple while rolling the left in his hand, the hand unattended drifted down your thighs and under your dress
"Billy stop- we cant do this i- I- I'm gonna get into s'much trouble"
"It cant be wrong if it feels good baby"
♡ he continues kissing and fondling your breasts, his hand slipping to your underwear pressing a thumb against your clothed clit making you jolt your hips with a loud whine.
♡ he chuckled against your chest moving his face to meet yours
"That feel good? Want me to do it again?"
"I dont know- I dont know! Feels weird.."
♡ he kissed your mouth and let's his other hand wander to your thighs. he pulls back to get a full view of you, your thighs spread, your lips puffy, your tits out. A sight that would make the devil groan, which is what he did.
♡ he plays with your thighs and your clothed cunt, soon sliding the piece of fabric to the side to get a better view of your forbidden fruit. He watches as your fluids leak from you, clamping around nothing and clit twitching from the harsh temperature of the room
♡ he places his thumb over your clit watching you jerk against him, clearly not used to stimulation, he circles around it then leans down pressing a kiss against it (maybe a quick suck too)
♡ the action makes you cry
"Billy 'is dirty"
♡ he slides with finger in you, the heat and tightness of your body almost making him cum in his pants. You're mewling underneath him and he gives you feelings you've never experienced
♡ his fingers work you open aiming to make sure you're able to fit his cock. When he pulls pants down to his thighs and grips his cock, your eyes are wide and full of second thoughts. Being the gentlemen he is he grabs your hand and makes you feel it
"S'hot, 'n it feels weird"
"Supposed to be hot gonna make you all warm"
"S'not gonna fit, your fingers felt too much, cant take this.."
"Cant take my cock?"
"Dont say that! That's dirty!"
♡ he drags his cock head over your clit, the heat of it shutting you up.
"I'll make it fit baby"
♡ he pulls your thighs apart and wraps his arm around your head, his body encapsulates yours as he pressed his cock inside of you. The stretch hurts and leaves you grabbing as much as billy as you can, he whispers praises to the side of your neck as he desperately tries to hold back.
♡ after an intense 5 minutes of him rubbing your clit and getting you to relax he starts thrusting, soft and slow but soon picking up as you unconsciously buck you hips into his. Your bed shook and you cried into his neck as he defiled you for any other man
"That feel good?"
"Ah- Feels big! 'Feel so full ngh- too full!"
"Yeah? Ya think your god would like this?"
"Gon' be In so much trouble billy"
"Ngh fuck- I'll be your god baby, I'll never get mad at you- fucking take it for me- you'll be my most devoted follower, c'mon say I'm your god, say it, say it for me baby 'n I'll make you feel so good c'mon say it"
"My god- y- your my god"
"Good girl, fuck-"
♡ as you reached orgasm you tried to push him off telling him that you were gonna pee, luckily for him you werent strong especially when you were getting your beliefs banged out.
♡ you came with a wail wrapping your legs around his waist, trapping him inside you, his hips stuttering as he came inside you.
♡ thus a sneaky beautiful relationship began
♡ hed take you for dates at his favourite cafe ordering milkshakes then stealing the cherry placed on top of yours then making jokes about once again "stealing your cherry"
♡ he steals your underwear especially when hes been teasing you all day, he likes the juices you leave behind, likes sucking on them, cumming on them, keeping them for himself and returning them soiled
♡ let's you come to the pool after hours just so he can fuck you in the water
♡ definitely buys you thin white bikinis just so he can see what's underneath when they get wet
♡ has grabbed a lollipop from your lips and pretended to fuck your mouth with it, you're none the wiser and assume he wants you to get the most flavour out it
♡ touches you in church and whispers how gross you are
"You're disgusting, really letting me touch you in the house of god?"
♡ flips up your skirt all the time, he blames the wind even if theres no breeze.
♡ he had dinner with your parents and had his fingers knuckle deep inside you the entire time, liking your juices if his fingers when dessert came out
♡ comes in through you window just so he can see you without prying eyes, he either wakes you up like a normal person or he wake you up by eating you out/ fingering you
♡ has had phone sex with you multiple times, he treats it like a confession booth and hes mostly degrading you the entire time
"You're fucking disgusting thinking about my cock, you're supposed to be a child of god" - says the man with your panties wrapped around his cock
♡ has gotten you drunk before and made you grind on his foot while you suck along his cock
♡ chokes you with your rosary when hes fucking you from behind, pulls on it like a leash
♡ taught you how to masturbate by sitting you infront of a mirror and touching you, you never fully learnt because billy has no self control
♡ bites you in places that arent visible to your parents, says you've been bitten by the devil
♡ spits in your mouth all the time
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Text
Falling Slowly 
Pairing: Azriel x fem Reader
Summary: Reader and Azriel slowly get close and realize they’re destined to be together.
Word Count: 5.5k  oopsie. this man makes me feral.
Your feelings for Azriel really snuck up on you. Of course, as soon as you had been taken in by the High Lord and his inner circle, you noticed how unbelievably gorgeous he was, but that was true of all of the Illyrian men that became your family. He was such a quiet, steady presence, it was easy for him to blend into the background, and you had a feeling that he didn’t mind that one bit.
Slowly though, he let you in more and more and you started to see through the shadowsinger’s thick shields that he always kept up. It started when you had been in Velaris for a few months, and you were finally feeling like you were settled in, that you had a home there. You were reading in the library of the House of Wind and he came in, settled down in a chair a few feet from the one you were occupying, and lifted an eyebrow when you glanced at him, no doubt silently asking if he could stay. You nodded, smiling faintly. He picked up a book that looked to be for research, his brow furrowed in concentration and his shadows wisping around him every time you dared look up at him. And thus, started your library time together.
It had gone on like that for a week or two, never a word spoken between you, but you enjoyed his comforting presence more than you liked to admit. Though it did become harder and harder to keep your eyes on your book when he was present. Finally, one day when the two of you had been reading silently for about ten minutes, he cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “you read a lot.”
The sudden sound of his slow, deep voice after weeks of silence sent a shock through your body, making your toes curl. You shrugged, hoping he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks in the dim light. “So do you, it seems.”
He held eye contact as the side of his mouth quirked up into the slightest smile that sent electricity through your body again. You noticed his shadows were back, circling around him idly. They didn’t often show up in the library anymore. It took all you had to not squeeze your thighs together, knowing full well that he would notice. “Research,” he said. After a beat he added, “Plus, I like the quiet. It’s nice to hide out from Cassian for a while.” 
You couldn’t remember if he had ever said so many words to you directly. You found yourself hoping that he was just trying to keep the conversation going. “Completely understandable,” you laughed. “I come here for the books first and foremost, but the quiet is definitely welcome, too. I love that I’ve found a family here, but it can get… overwhelming at times.”
He nodded, like he knew exactly what you meant, continuing to gaze deeply into your eyes. “I’m glad. That you’re here, I mean. That you see us as your family,” he said quieter than before, almost like he was unsure if he should be saying it.
A smile broke out on your face, and he held your gaze for another beat, his smile widening just slightly before he bowed his head back to his book, seemingly done with the conversation. 
You hoped he didn’t notice that you did not read a single page for the rest of your time in the library that day.
A few days later, you were itching to get out of the house and wander the beautiful streets of Velaris. After breakfast, you worked up the nerve to call Azriel’s name as he was leaving, timing it out perfectly so the two of you would be left alone in the dining room. He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. 
“What are you up to today?” you asked, trying to sound casual.
He cleared his throat, definitely caught off guard. “Well, Rhys has me off to get some intel this morning, but if everything goes to plan, I should be back around lunch…” he trailed off, obviously waiting for you to explain yourself.
“Perfect,” you said, not able to keep the smile off your face as you looked up at him. “Do you want to go to lunch in Velaris with me? I’ve been dying to get out of the house and try somewhere I haven’t been yet.”
Azriel studied you for a moment, his head tilting slightly, one of his shadows curling around his ear, like he was trying to use his skills to see through to your intentions. “Okay,” he said finally. “Sure. Lunch. I’ll find you when I get back?”
“Great,” you grinned up at him before swooping out of the dining room, trying your best not to bounce on your toes. There was no denying it anymore: you had a crush on Azriel, and you couldn’t wait until he got back that afternoon.
You were in the library, of course, when he returned. He was out of his fighting leathers, but still wearing all black, his clothing perfectly tailored to him. He looked…so good. The side of his mouth was quirked up the slightest bit, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, his wings tucked tightly behind him. “How did I know I’d find you here?” he murmured, almost playfully. 
“Lucky guess,” you smirked, placing your book on the table next to your chair and sidling up to him. You noticed his eyes trailing after you, for once not focused on your eyes, but on your body, watching the way your dress hugged your hips as you moved toward him. You flushed. 
“Do you have a place in mind for lunch?” You asked when you were so close to him, your toes were almost touching. He towered over you, his eyes latched onto yours now, his shadows nearly tickling your arms.
“This was your idea,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice. Azriel? Teasing? Heat went straight through you again. You tried to control your breathing.
“You’ve lived here longer,” you countered. “You know places that I don’t.”
He smiled. A real, full smile. It was life-altering, ground-shaking. You tried to take a picture in your mind of your first real Azriel smile. You couldn’t help but return it. “I’ve got somewhere in mind,” he said finally. 
“Lead the way,” you said. Even to your own ears, you sounded too giddy. You tried not to be embarrassed. 
It wasn’t until you were standing outside on the mountain that you realized the implications of what you had asked. He would have to fly you down to the streets of Velaris. It’s not like you hadn’t had one of your Illyrian friends fly you somewhere before, but now it felt… different. 
You glanced at him, and his hesitant expression told you that maybe he was thinking the same thing. Trying to make the transition the least awkward it could be, you walked right up to him and titled your head. “Ready?”
That tiny half smile appeared as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, holding onto you tightly, yet being as gentle as possible as the two of you left the ground. You had gotten more used to flying with them, but it still made your stomach twist into nervous knots. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean your face into Azriel’s chest, not wanting to look at the ground approaching. 
As you leaned into him, you felt his muscles tense. “Sorry. We’ll be on the ground in a moment.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you said, leaning up to look at him, so he could hear you. “You’re better to fly with than Cassian or Rhys. They always try to scare me more.”
His body tensed, his grasp on you tightening. “I would never do that to you,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. 
“I know,” you said, just as he smoothly landed. He held your gaze as he gently set your feet on the ground. 
Your knees felt a bit shaky, whether from the flight or from your proximity to him, you couldn’t tell. You held onto his rock solid forearms for a minute, trying to steady yourself. 
“Are you alright?” he murmured, his eyes scanning your body, concern flashing on his features.
You cleared your throat, finally letting go of him. “Yes, sorry. I’m still getting used to that."
He nodded, still watching you as if to make sure for himself that you were okay. After a moment, you started walking, hoping to push down the heat that you’d been feeling at the touch of your skin against his.
The two of you walked side by side through the streets of Velaris, not saying much, though you could see from the corner of your eye how often he glanced at you. You watched as his shadows circled around his arms, as he stretched his wings out when the walkway was clear enough. You couldn’t remember seeing him do that before. They were usually tucked in close behind him when he walked around the house.
“Are they heavy?” you asked. 
He just looked at you, his brow slightly furrowed. 
“Your wings,” you clarified. 
They seemed to bristle a bit once you mentioned them, a tiny wave rippling through from one side to the other. “You get used to it. But, yes.” The hint of a smile appeared on his face again. “Why do you think Illyrians are all so fit?” 
You smiled, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “I haven’t met any besides you three,” you looked up at him to find his eyes already latched on your face. “I thought it was just a you thing."
His face remained stoic except for his eyes, which widened very slightly. 
Suddenly, he cleared his throat, finally taking his eyes from yours, and gesturing at a small building, nestled between what seemed to be two other restaurants. Unlike many of them in Velaris that were open and had tables stretching out into the outside, this building was completely closed, keeping whatever was in there concealed. “We’re here,” he said, his voice a bit more gravelly than before.
You followed him inside, past a roaring fireplace to a small table in a corner of the restaurant. It wasn’t crowded at all, which was a relief since it was so small. It was cozy and inviting though, with low light, candles flickering everywhere and soft music playing from somewhere nearby. You noticed that the chair he was seated in was perfectly accommodating to his wings. You could tell why Azriel was the one out of the group who liked it here. It was calm, quiet, dark. Intimate.
Azriel’s eyes were on you as you settled in, seemingly trying to detect how you were feeling about his choice of establishment. You looked around before meeting his eyes. “I see why you like this place. It’s like the library.”
The side of his mouth quirked up in that half smile you were starting to memorize. “I thought you might appreciate it.”
After you ordered, you looked at him and his eyes were already on you. “You have intense eye contact, do you know that?”
He coughed, but you saw the smile he tried to hide. He slid his eyes back to yours and you tried hard not to react. “I study people. It’s my job.”
“You’re not on duty now, are you?” you said teasingly. 
Azriel shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. “It’s hard to turn off the instinct.”
“Alright, then,” you said, already regretting it before the words even came out of your mouth. “What intel are you picking up on me right now?”
He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him, eyes boring into yours like they could see straight into your soul. Hell, maybe they could. You had never had the courage to ask what exactly his skillset entailed. “You seem… curious about me,” he said in a low, gravelly voice that brought heat to your cheeks. “For whatever reason,” he smiled faintly, lifting one eyebrow. 
“Azriel, is that some self-deprecation I hear?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. 
Leaning back in his chair again, he took a moment to respond. “Maybe a bit.”
You shook your head. “No, I will have absolutely none of that from the Night Court’s shadowsinger and spymaster. You are far too cool to be talking about yourself like that.” You tried to sound playful, but even to your own ears, you sounded far too serious. You meant it though, of course. How could he not see it?
He just studied you for a moment, not moving except for a slight tick in his jaw. Finally, he said, “As you wish, Lady.”
Clearing your throat, you settled back into your chair, mirroring his posture. “So is that all you’ve picked up on me?”
A slight smile. “All I wish to share.”
Mercifully, before you could reply, your food had arrived. Azriel seemed to hesitate, waiting for you to take your first bite before he dug into his own food. It was delicious, and somehow made you feel right at home. 
You ate in silence for a few moments, your focus so wrapped up in the delicious food in front of you that you did not realize his eyes were once again fastened on you. Once you finally took a reprieve from digging into your meal, you looked up, found his eyes on you, his expression unreadable, and you flushed, slightly embarrassed. 
“I’m not eating like a lady right now, am I?” you asked, your voice slightly wavering, no doubt showing your concern at the lack of decorum.
He let out a quiet chuckle that was music to your ears. “You look like a lady to me,” he said, his gaze not leaving yours.
You flushed even deeper, and he smiled, lighting up his eyes. Two real Azriel smiles in one day. You felt faint.
“You should do that more,” you whispered.
The smile dropped as he raised an eyebrow. A silent question.
“Nevermind,” you said, turning back to your meal, fearing that if you admitted how much you savored the smiles, they would stop appearing.
Azriel seemed like he wanted to push further, but decided against it. You thought he could probably figure it out anyway. He wasn’t the spymaster for nothing.
You could feel his eyes on you as you finished your meal, too distracted by him now to properly taste any of it. 
At last, he said “Did you enjoy it?”
Despite how few real interactions you’ve actually had with the man, you felt comfortable with him, so much so that you dared to say, “The meal? Yes. The company?” You paused, looking up at him from under your lashes. “Absolutely.”
Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but you swore you saw his fingers clench for a moment, heard his breath catch, as the shadows appeared around him for the first time since the two of you sat down. After a moment, he said, his voice thick, “I’m glad.” 
Your last remark took all the bravery you had, and you didn’t dare ask him the question back. 
Later, the two of you walked in companionable silence back to the House of Wind. His arm lightly brushed yours as you neared the mountain, and you again felt electricity jolt through from the point of contact all the way down to your toes. You may not know Azriel extremely well, but you were pretty sure every movement his body made was deliberate. Was that one deliberate, too?
At the foot of the mountain, the two of you turned to face each other, and he smiled lightly. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you said, stepping closer to him before he gently picked you up. You could tell that he was making an extra effort to fly smoothly for you. 
“You doing okay?” he asked, low in your ear.
Looking up at him, you nodded. “Going up is better than going down.”
“Good to know,” he met your eyes for a moment, his eyes twinkling. Your fingers flexed where they held onto him, and the side of his mouth tilted up the slightest bit.
He landed on the balcony outside of the dining room, setting you on the ground, but not letting go of your arms yet, his eyes searching your face, like he remembered that you needed a minute to get settled on the ground earlier. You reveled in the feeling of his rough hands on your bare skin, and after a moment, you reluctantly stepped back, unable to stop your hand from lightly grasping his bicep as you did so. “Thank you, Azriel. For all of it.”
Azriel nodded, smiling faintly, his eyes not leaving yours. 
You wanted him to say more, desperate to continue whatever this was, but unfortunately Cassian walked out onto the balcony. “What are you guys up to?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two of you, no doubt noticing how close you were standing.
You glanced at Azriel, not sure what to say. He seemed to understand and answered Cassian. “We just went to grab lunch.”
Cassian grinned. “Just the two of you? Alone? Interesting.”
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Cassian.” 
Cackling, Cassian mock saluted at the two of you, and left. 
You suddenly felt awkward as the two of you were alone again. “So…” you trailed off.
He laughed, and you could feel heat rise to your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “See you at dinner?” he said. 
“Dinner. Yes. Absolutely.” By the cauldron, you were starting to sound like him.
Azriel seemed to be thinking the same thing as he studied you for another moment, his eyes sparkling with what could only be described as a hint of mischief before he spread his wings and soared into the sky without another word.
You wandered around aimlessly for the rest of the day, not able to focus on anything but the memory of his hands on your skin, so gentle despite the scars, his eyes gazing into yours, the smile that you hadn’t gotten to see before today. 
Dinner came and went mostly without incident, though you often felt Cassian’s eyes darting between you and Azriel. You glared at him, silently begging him not to make a big deal about what he saw, especially in front of everybody. Thankfully, he got the hint and said nothing.
The next day, you got up a bit earlier than usual, chose a dress that was a bit nicer than what you would normally wear around the house, braided and pinned your hair carefully, and set out to very casually lounge in the library, like you would any other day.
You tried not to sigh with relief as Azriel came in some time later, his shadows nowhere to be seen, and took his normal seat near yours.
He eyed you, and smiled faintly. “You look nice,” he said, quietly.
You blushed. His smile grew. “Thank you,” was all you could say.
Azriel lifted an eyebrow. “Are you going somewhere today?”
“Not that I know of…” you trailed off, debating on whether to attempt to explain your appearance to brush it off, or let him assume correctly that you did it because of him.
“Do you… want to? Go somewhere today?” He said, his voice more hesitant than you would think possible for the Night Court’s spymaster.
“With you?” You asked, sure your eyes were lighting up with excitement.
Azriel smiled, holding your gaze. Your knees would have buckled if you hadn’t been sitting. “That was the idea, yes.”
“Of course,” you beamed, trying to keep your voice even.
Just like that, you were in Azriel’s arms again, flying down to Velaris, where the two of you wandered happily, with no real destination. He was a bit more talkative today, asking you about books you were reading and your life before Rhysand found you and brought you into his family. He told you about the far-off places he’d been throughout his years as Rhysand’s spymaster, what it was like growing up with Rhysand and Cassian as his found family. You had never heard him speak so much, and you couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted to listen to everything he could possibly share, wanting to savor every detail of it. 
And that’s how it went, just like your routine with the library. Every few days, when Azriel had the time, he would fly you down to Velaris and you two would wander the streets, stopping for food, perusing the shops. Slowly, slowly, he opened up a bit more to you, talking about his past every once in a while. He never went into much detail, but it was more than you ever expected from him. You were honored that he trusted you even that much. You became addicted to the sound of his voice, to the rare moments when his arm would brush yours, or when he would place his hand on your back to steer you away from somebody in your path who wasn’t paying attention.
On, and on, and on, you kept up your routine and you could feel the walls that he kept up for everybody break off little by little. 
Still, you couldn’t tell if it was friendship that he was feeling for you or something else. It certainly wasn’t friendly feelings you had towards him. His gorgeous face, his piercing eyes, now had a permanent spot in your mind and in your dreams.  
One afternoon, when you assumed Azriel was out doing his spymaster duties because you hadn’t seen him all day, you were about to leave your room when you heard his voice low, speaking to someone. He sounded mildly upset. You knew you shouldn’t eavesdrop, but you certainly didn’t want to walk past them, so you waited it out.
“When are you going to tell her?” the other voice said, in a rushed whisper. Cassian.
“I don’t know. How are you supposed to just … tell somebody something like that?” Azriel sounded more frustrated than you’d ever heard him.
“How should I know? You’re the one who spends all your time with her. You should know what the best way to tell her is.”
Azriel sighed, and you could picture him running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, you better figure it out. She’s going to think that you’re not into her.”
“You think so?” Azriel sounded worried.
“Dude, you’ve been spending every moment possible with her for weeks, and you haven’t made a single move.” 
Before Azriel could respond, footsteps sounded in the hallway, and their conversation cut off completely. You seized your chance, hoping to gain some insight as to who they were talking about. 
You left your room, trying to look casual, and at the sound of your door opening, the two of them whipped their heads towards you.
You raised an eyebrow as you walked towards them. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?” you teased, trying not to dwell on what you had heard. Azriel was into someone?
Azriel just stared at you, his cheeks dusted red. Cassian smirked at you. “Nope, beautiful as ever, sweetheart.” 
Azriel’s eyes darted from yours to Cassian’s, his expression turning lethal and his shadows suddenly appearing, swirling around his head, his arms. You had only seen that kind of quiet rage in his eyes when there was an enemy present in the Night Court. 
You couldn’t fathom what would warrant this reaction. “Az, are you okay?” you asked, softly.
His eyes met yours again, the rage flickering away into something else entirely, though you couldn’t quite place it.  He opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to speak for a moment. Finally, he choked out, “Yes, fine. I’m just -- I have to go.” Without another word, he bolted down the corridor, out of sight.
Cassian rolled his eyes, turning back to you. “You guys have been hanging out a lot lately, huh?”
You shrugged, trying not to let your feelings show. “Yeah, we’re friends now."
He cocked an eyebrow. “Friends? You sure?”
Sighing, you leaned your back against the wall. “Honestly? I don’t know. Sometimes I can’t tell.”
He pushed further, as you figured he would. “Well, how do you feel? Do you want to be just friends?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “If I tell you, do you promise not to make fun of me, or run off and tell everyone about it?”
Smiling, he raised his right hand, like he was taking an oath. “I solemnly swear that your secret is safe with me.”
“...Fine. No, I don’t want to just be friends. To be completely honest, I think I’m a little in love with him.”
Cassian’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, you said, “I swear to the Cauldron, if you say anything to anyone, I will get Amren to toss you into the pit of the library.” 
At that, he clamped his mouth shut and held up his hands. “I won’t say anything to anybody,” but his demeanor turned serious as he leveled you with a steady gaze. “But I really think you should tell him.” 
You swore you could feel your heart beat faster at just the thought. “What if it ruins everything?” you said quietly. 
Cassian held your gaze. “It won’t.”
Before you could press him on what he meant, he smirked and clapped you in the shoulder, following in Azriel's wake down the hallway.
Surely it wasn’t incredibly narcissistic to think perhaps the “she” they were talking about before you interrupted was you, right? Who else had Azriel been spending all his time with? But… What was it that Cassian wanted him to tell you? Was Azriel interested in you?
Your head spun for days, especially as Azriel was noticeably keeping his distance from you. He had not come to the library, and had hardly talked to you at all. You felt an ache in your chest at his absence. 
After he had been avoiding you for a week, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knocked on his door after dinner, realizing as it opened that you had never seen his room before. Over his shoulder you could see a humongous bed with black sheets and weapons scattered about on tables pushed against each wall. 
He was clearly surprised to see you, hovering in the doorway, like he was unsure if he should invite you in or not. 
Before he could say anything, you blurted, “Did I do something wrong?” 
His brow furrowed in confusion, his shadows suddenly swirling around him. “Why would you think that?"
You shrugged incredulously. “It’s the only reason I can think of for you ignoring me for the past week,” your voice broke and you cursed yourself for showing him how much you had been hurting. 
His eyes softened, his expression pained. “I-- come inside,” he said, stepping away from the doorway so you could venture inside. He closed the door behind you and you gulped, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 
He slowly walked over to you, stopping a few paces away, his wings folded tightly behind him, his body tense. It took him a moment to finally meet your eyes. When he did, he said simply, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” You asked, your voice wavering. “Az, what’s going on?”
Running his hand through his hair, he sighed, and gestured behind you at an armchair nestled between two of his tables laden with weapons. You sat down gingerly and he sat on the edge of the bed, facing you. His enormous wings stretched out behind him now that he was settled.
“I need to tell you something. And I’ve been avoiding you because… I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say everything, and  I didn’t know how you would react,” he said, his eyes on you as his shadows swirled around his head. 
“O-kay,” you said. “What is it?”
Azriel took a deep breath and bowed his head, staring at his hands clasped in front of him, his elbows resting on his knees. Finally, he said quietly, “You’re my mate.”
You felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. 
“I --” and before you could question him, you knew it was true, feeling the bond snap into place. You looked up at him to find his eyes on yours, more anxious than you’d ever seen him. “I feel it now,” you whispered. 
His eyes widened and his body went even more rigid. It didn’t look like he was breathing. 
“How long have you known?” was all you could think to say.
It was a long moment before he answered. “I… had a feeling for a while. I felt connected to you from the beginning. Even if you weren’t my mate, I knew you were different. Special. When you first met me, you never paid attention to my scars.” His fingers flexed as he said it, his deep voice slightly shaky. “Most people can’t help but stare, but you… whenever you looked at me, your eyes were on my face. Always.” He drew a deep breath and his eyes bore into yours, like he wanted to make sure you were still there. 
He continued, “But I wasn’t sure, didn’t know how it was supposed to feel when the bond snapped into place, so I started going to the library to be close to you, hoping I could confirm it. That first day at lunch, when you asked me what I was sensing about you… that’s when it happened. That’s when I felt it… that unflinching rope tied around my heart, connecting to you. Then, I couldn’t stay away, that bond was always tugging me toward you.” 
You gaped at him, images of him over the past few weeks blurring together in your mind. 
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. “I didn’t know how you felt about me and I didn’t want to ruin what we started.”
The hurt in his voice finally spurred you into action. You got up from the chair and crossed over to him. He sat up fully, his eyes locked on yours as you straddled him, settling into his lap and holding his face in your hands. His body finally relaxed, his shadows dissipating as his hands held your waist gently. 
“I’m in love with you, Azriel,” you said quietly. “I could not be happier that I get to be your mate.”
He made a choking sound, his eyes swimming with emotion. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” you said, your face inching closer to his.
“I kept it from you.”
“It’s okay, love,” you said gently, wrapping one arm around his neck and running your other hand through his soft hair. “I understand.”
“You love me?” he asked, finally smiling, his mouth an inch from yours.
“Of course I do.”
“I love you,” he murmured, cupping the back of your head with his hand and leaning in to kiss you gently. 
You felt tears stream down your cheeks as he kissed you, and he wiped them away with his thumb, his touch featherlight. 
“Happy tears?” he whispered against your mouth.
“Mhmm,” you mumbled, deepening the kiss.
He kissed you gently for a few more moments before he groaned, wrapped an arm tightly around your waist, stood up, and tossed you onto the bed.
Your eyes widened and he smirked, making your toes curl. 
“Ready to stay up all night, mate?” he teased, his eyes flashing with lust.
You could only nod. 
-----
You two missed breakfast the next morning, too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to what time it had become. 
Mercifully, you were left alone most of the day, and it took some coaxing, but you finally convinced Azriel that you would need nourishment to continue the fun you were having, so eventually you did make it to the dining room in time for dinner.
All eyes were on you both as you sat down side by side, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you knew that all your friends could smell the new mating bond on you.
Cassian broke the silence, grinning at Azriel. “Well, she looks absolutely ravished, Az.”
A growl released from deep in Azriel’s throat as he lunged across the table at Cassian, tackling him to the ground. 
Rhysand laughed, opening the door to the balcony, and the two tumbled out, arms and wings thrashing. He looked at you, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he shut the door behind them, locking them out on the balcony. “He’ll be better at controlling that, with time. Trust me.” 
You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat at the protectiveness that Azriel now felt for you. 
“I guess you’re officially part of the family now,” Rhysand smirked. “Congratulations.”
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entitled-fangirl · 3 months
Text
Anything for you, beautiful girl.
Felix Catton x virgin!reader
SMUT later in the story
Summary: The reader has a panic attack after being called names. Felix makes sure she knows how well she's loved by him as he talks her through it.
Warnings: cursing, p in v, fingering, name-calling by someone else.
Author's note: this is a mix of like nine different asks, so I hope it did them well enough together! ALSO, SWEET LOVEMAKING WITH FELIX IS THE BEST OML. Like he def talks you through it.
Masterlist
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Felix and Y/N had been dating for only a little while.
7 months, 22 days and counting.
Well, Felix was.
He still couldn't believe he managed to get the prettiest girl in school. And that, she was.
She was utterly gorgeous. But she had the habit of not giving many people the time of day, opting rather to be by herself. Felix had always thought that if she really applied herself, she could be the most popular in college.
She was supposed to meet Felix at his dorm after their morning classes, which was to be 12:20. She had gotten out of her's early, so she sat on his bed, watching her phone glow from a call from her mother.
Her parents were horrible people, and Felix often encouraged her to ignore their callings, like today.
But this was the fifth call in ten minutes. And even for them, that was a bit excessive.
So, she picked it up.
The time was now 12:30 and Felix was walking down the corridor of his dorm, nearing his door. He reached for the handle, pausing when he heard the muffled sound of crying through it. He pushed his ear against the door, trying to truly tell if it was coming from his room.
The second he recognized it to be her, he threw the door open.
And the sight startled him.
She laid on the floor next to his bed, her legs pulled up to her chest, her hands covering her face in muffled sobs and weeps. 
She hadn't even heard him come in.
He immediately dropped his bag, kneeling down in front of her. He reached out with one hand, placing it on the side of her head.
She jumped, a small whimper coming from her throat as she finally looked up at him.
Her face was tear stained and her eyes were wide in fear. Her bottom lip quivered as she stared at him, her breathing beyond erratic. 
But her eyes seemed to relax sightly as she recognized who he was.
Felix took a moment to access the situation, deciding what to do. 
His voice was soft, a reminder of his gentleness for her, "…Angel? What's happened…?"
She simply continued to stare, her breathing too spastic to speak.
Once he recognized that, he sat himself on the floor completely, his worried eyes taking in her shaking frame. "Oh, Angel…" he cooed.
He gently pulled at her arms until he got her to sit in his lap. She then threw her arms around him and sobbed violently into his shoulder. "I…I couldn't… I didn't…" Felix tried to listen, but she couldn't even mutter a sentence through the tears.
He held her close to him, feeling her erratic heartbeats and worrying. "Hey…" 
When she didn't respond, he reached up to cup her face, his voice stronger, "Hey."
She finally looked up at him.
"Angel… you gotta calm yourself. Breathe with me. Yeah, pretty girl?"
She let out a soft nod.
He pulled her hand onto his chest to let her feel his calming breaths.
Eventually, she got the pattern down, and her own breathing was becoming somewhat calm.
He lets out a soft sigh at the sight of her tears finally slowing. "Beautiful, tell me what happened. What started all this?"
She sniffled, shaking her head. She pushed her face back into his shoulder.
One of his hands came up to play with her hair. His voice was soft, "Angel, how can we fix this if I don't even know how it happened?"
Then he looked up, seeing her phone resting on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows furrowed. He reached up, taking the small phone in his large hands.
He saw the screen light up with missed call notifications from a 15 minutes ago, but then only 3 minutes ago was multiple texts, all from her mother:
"I meant what I said."
"Wait until your father hears about you."
An audible gasp came from Felix's mouth as he read the words. Some fucking family they were. "Angel…?"
She let out a soft hum against his shoulder.
He nudged her softly, "Angel, I need you to pay attention."
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She saw the phone in his hand and her eyes widened, "Lex… I… I'm sorry."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "No, Angel. You're not sorry. Because you don't have anything to be sorry about. Right? You didn't do anything, did you?"
She shrugged, "Mum sai-"
"-I don't give a fuck what your mum says," he said sharply. He let it sit before his voice softened, "I'm sorry, baby girl. I shouldn't yell at you. Your mum says awful things. Just… tell me what happened."
She sniffles, "Well, she called me over 5 times and-"
"Well, why did you pick it up, pretty girl?" He asked, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.
"I think I was worried something serious had happened. I… I should've known better, Lex. That's why I'm sorry…"
His heart was breaking for her. His perfect little angel truly thought she deserved the horrific things her family always told her. That she was worthless. Stupid. Ugly. 
And above all that, she still felt the need to apologize to him for it.
"Oh, honey. Don't be sorry for that. We can't help it sometimes. Now," he pulled her close, his lips close to her ear, "tell me what she said to you today."
"…Promise you won't be mad…?"
He almost scoffed. Mad? At her? Never. Her mother? Always.
"No, angel. I won't be mad at you. I'll never be mad at you. Tell me."
She sighed, "She said I was… that I…"
Felix leaned in, waiting to hear her finish.
"…she said I was a whore."
Felix froze. His voice was deep, harsh and unkind, his face mimicking, "You're. Not. A. Whore."
Her eyes peered up to Felix's, a visible look of worry etched on her face. "I... It's just.. I… It…"
"I know, baby. It hurts when someone you trust says something so vile." He leaned his face to be inches from hers. "You don't believe it, do you?"
She looks down, her eyes saying enough.
Felix looked to the side, his jaw clenched. A long breath came out from his nose as he thought.
She noted the anger on his face and was quick to try to counteract it, "Felix. I… I'm fine. Please…"
"NO."
She leaned back from him, surprised by his raised voice.
He sighed again, trying to reign back his mind, "You're not a whore, angel."
She smiled, her hands coming up to caress his cheeks, "thank you, Felix."
"I mean it. You're no whore. We haven't even…. Ugh… why does she think that?"
"We've been dating a few months and… I guess she just expects it."
He nods, "Sure, for most. But you and I aren't most, are we, honey?"
She nods, "I'm sorry for that, too."
He does scoff this time, "I would wait a millennium, if that's what it took. I don't care."
"And to think…" she said under her breath.
He tilts his head, "…'and to think'….what?"
She looks at him like a deer in the headlights, realizing he had heard it, "I… nothing."
He smiles, "Tell me, angel. What's on your mind?"
"I just love you, is all."
His smile grew. He leaned close, a hand caressing her face gently as he slowly connected their lips. The kiss was soft and slow, expressing every emotion the other was feeling.
--------------------------SMUT STARTS HERE------------------------
He broke it, "You're so beautiful, angel." He kissed softly at her neck, "I would worship your body for eternity if you will let me." The humming of his voice tickled her throat softly, "Mmm… You own me, princess. Let me show you what you are to me, yeah?"
She nodded.
He gently picked her up, laying her on the bed. "How far can I go today, angel?"
She placed a hand on his chest, "I want you to go all the way."
His eyebrows furrowed, "W….what?"
Her voice was a whisper, "Please, Felix. I want to. I want… I want you, please."
He sat on the bed next to her, "And this… has nothing to do with earlier?"
She shakes her head, "I… I decided that today I wanted… I.. I wore… um… other things for today that I've never worn before. Because I want this, Catton. Please."
He smiled, "Alright, baby. I'll do just that." He leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss. "I wanna make you feel good. Can I do that? Make you feel pretty like you already are?"
She nodded, "Please, Lex."
He didn't need to be told twice. 
He gently pulled the clothes from her body, taking his time to watch her reaction closely. He half expected her to back out. 
But she wasn't backing out.
He let out a low whistle under his breath at the sight of her lingerie. She wasn't joking. 
She was beautiful.
"Oh, pretty girl… you make me so proud to be yours."
He leaned down on her small body, kissing her again. 
One of his hands began to wander south. One finger broke the band of her underwear, and he pulled away from the kiss. "This alright?"
She pulled him back down into the kiss.
His hand wandered down her panties to her slit. He knew not only by the feeling, but the sharp intake of breath from his pretty girl. 
He smiled, "Can I touch you, angel?"
Her voice was a whimper, "Please… p…please…"
He gently pushed a finger into her core.
He had never done this with her. And, judging from her reaction, she had never done this at all.
A low moan came from her throat as his second knuckle passed her pussy lips.
"Oh, honey. So pretty f'me. Yeah… prettiest girl I know…"
Once his finger bottomed out, he began to pull it back out, only to repeat the process.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing shaky. 
She was a vision.
Felix couldn't stop the smile on his face. 
He loved her so much.
And she was trusting him with everything she had. 
"Alright. I'm gonna add another one. Think you can take that?"
She nodded through the feeling, letting herself be stuffed with his fingers.
He kissed her forehead, "Just getting you ready for me, yeah?"
Her hand reached down her grip his wrist, "Felix.. I.. I don't…"
"Pretty girl can't hold on anymore? That's okay. Let it out, baby. Let me hear it."
Her back arched as she came on his fingers. A small whimper came from her mouth as her toes curled involuntarily.
She slumped back against the bed, feeling him kiss her neck gently.
"Good. So good. You wanna stop?"
She shakes her head, "No, please. I.. I wanna do this…"
He nods, "Okay. We'll do it."
He stood, rushing to his backpack. He pulled a water bottle from it, bringing it back to the bed. "Here, angel. Drink."
She did as he commanded.
Once she caught her breath, their lips connecting once more.
"Think you can do this, angel?"
She nods.
"This is what you want?"
She nods again.
"I have to hear you say it, princess. Please."
"Felix, please. I want you."
His hips slowly met with hers as he sunk into her.
He couldn't help the satisfied breath that left his lungs.
She let out a small grunt.
He bottomed out, looking back at her. "Tell me, baby."
Her eyebrows were furrowed together and her breathing become shallow. "I.. it hurts, Lex."
He nods, "I know." He kisses her forehead. "I'll stay as long as it takes for you to be ready."
After a moment, she nods, her hand coming up to his chest, "Please…"
He smiles, "Alright, angel. This may still hurt a bit, but it'll feel good, too. I promise."
And with that, he began to thrust. 
He couldn't stop the soft curses that came from his mouth under his breath. He couldn't help it. Seeing her so pretty under him like this alone could make him come undone.
She was no different. The pain turned into pleasure quick and she was arching her back to meet with his thrusts.
One hand of his reached down to push her hips back down, "Calm down, angel. I'll relieve you. I always will."
She nodded, small grunts and whimpers coming from her throat.
This moment was beautiful, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.
He rested on one elbow, the hand on that arm coming up to her face, lightly tapping her cheek, "You gotta breathe. C'mon, baby. Breathe for me."
He was right. In all the pleasure, she wasn't breathing well.
Soon, he leaned down to her ear, "You close, honey?"
"S…s…so…so close…"
"Me too. God, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Do it, baby."
And she did.
He was not far behind, grunting as he came.
And the two simply stared at each other in awe.
"Thank you, angel."
"For what?"
"For trusting me this much."
He got up, throwing on his boxers. He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her alone in the bedroom.
She sat up on her elbows, her eyebrows furrowing. 
She didn't understand why he'd leave like that.
He returned quickly though. "C'mere, princess. Let me clean you up."
He held a soft towel in his hand.
He gently cleaned her, kissing her temple while doing so. "How about a bath, beautiful?"
She smiled, "I'd love one."
He nodded, "Anything for you, beautiful girl."
.......................................................................................
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