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eldritch-spouse · 3 months ago

Text

Full: Twitter/X; Postimages

TW: Parasocial obsession; Sugarbaby!reader

[Fem reader]

It's odd to think how things have escalated to this point.

When you started this whole "sugar companionship", "angel" thing, you didn't exactly expect anything to come of it. More of a last ditch effort to bring in some much appreciated side money, and fulfill someone's social needs while you're at it. It would be a win-win situation, right?

You don't remember how Viridis showed up. Probably through DMs in your social media account. You didn't post too much of yourself there aside from a few photos where you felt particularly pretty, and apparently, your taste for finer items showed itself there, enough for you to get hit up by something other than a scambot and creeps.

In his defense, the guy was never rude towards you. He didn't barge in begging for nude photos or demanding attention. Viridis just told you he thought you were gorgeous, and he wanted to see you living the lavish life you deserved.

Before you could even reply, a notification drops, displaying a sum of money transferred to you. The amount was large enough to have you choke on your own saliva, hysterically cackling.

Ever since then, he's been a permanent figure in your life, constantly there through thick and thin, someone you could even call a friend, even if there's a financial power dynamic always involved in your interactions.

It was hard not to get somewhat attached to your "donator".

You got to know each other, after all. You told him about what you do for a living, and he said he was an important figure in the ring of Sloth. You are both single. He's had bad experiences with former girlfriends and feels incredibly lonely. When you felt depressed, Viridis was there to console you, a generous tip accompanying his request for you to "Go cheer yourself up ;)".

And when he felt bad, he'd buy you something, ask you to unwrap it, send him a voice message saying you loved it.

You don't know when that turned into sending him videos saying you loved him.

It feels weird. Kind of wrong. But the more money he blows on you, the more you get to do all the things your finances never allowed before, the happier you are. So what, if he just wants a little good morning text with hearts and a picture of you dressed in the clothes he buys for you? It's puzzling how he got your measurements so right without asking, but maybe he just has an eye for that kind of thing.

Eventually, things escalated to video calls. And you finally got to see Viridis.

He's a surprisingly well-kept imp, with peculiar looking horns and glazed white eyes. Much better than what the morbid side of your brain was conjuring in its growing restlessness. He'd put so much effort into that paid ten minute call, and seemed so gleeful that you'd been wearing an outfit he put together. More than that, once the nervous jitters were shed, he actually made for a great conversation partner- Were it not for the alarm, you two might have spent an hour or more rambling together.

It comes as no surprise that you eventually started doing meal time calls. He'd pay to eat with you through video call, usually dinner time, or during his breaks. He seemed excited about them every time he "booked" these sessions, even going as far as asking what you'd be eating, and if he could pay you to get the exact same type of food as his. How could you refuse?

Viridis would tell you about his day, you'd tell him about yours, and the two of you would quell your loneliness that way. Sometime he'd hint at things he wanted to buy for you, gouging your reaction, waiting for that shine in your eyes. It always seemed to put a glow on the imp's face whenever you thanked him and got bashful over his many contributions.

He'd say I love you, my pretty bijou, and as agreed, you'd say it back to him in a convincing manner.

Viridis' latest idea involves spending his day off, scheduled to match yours, "with you". As usual, he was straightforward with what he wanted, and paid more than you'd reasonably stipulate for such a service. Enough money that you'd be incredibly foolish to decline, for a single day of sucking up to him- It's not even hard to suck up to the demon, he seems to melt pretty easily from the most basic of praise or admiration.

The imp wants to video call a routine he built for you, essentially. From the moment you put on your makeup and fix your hair to leave, to breakfast where he specified, then a shopping trip to whatever locations you desire, taking breaks for whatever needs you must fulfill in between, down to the moment where you get ready for bed, under the covers, and wish him good night.

It didn't seem so bad, if only a little overwhelming given there's a lot more interaction involved. And so far, things have gone pretty well! You can't lie and say that you're not enjoying getting to spend even more money on all your favorite brands, after all. Sure, at least two separate employees asked if you were in a long distance relationship -Something Viridis was all too eager to confirm- But there's hardly been a hiccup besides that.

" Hey, what do you think about these? " You point the camera at a set of dangle earrings, made of a beautiful rose gold and diamond, molded in the shape of three little hearts. You don't mention the price tag, but it's very visible.

The demon, who appears to be reclinging in a balcony of sorts, hums. " They'd look cute on you, I like the pavé on it. Get them. "

" Hold on, there's more- " You shuffle all the bags you're holding to pan over to a different display. " What about these? "

" Sure, but you're getting the heart ones. " Viridis insists, then pauses as you study the differently styled jewelry. " I should get you something with Hell's gold, the color definitely pops more, I think you'd love some of the stuff we have here. "

" Mhmm, I bet. " You absentmindedly respond. " Too bad I don't live in Hell, hah. "

There's a slightly heavier silence for a few seconds as you worry if you've touched a nerve.

" You could come visit, bijou. "

You resist the urge to snort. " Viridis, I- "

" You know I'd pay for the expenses, right? Get you a nice hotel in Sloth, it's one of the calmer rings, and I'd come pick you up so you're not walking around alone. "

The demon smiles hopefully, taking a sip of what you assume must be some kind of sparkling wine. Nothing less dignified in a glass as unique as the one he flaunts.

" You know that's... " It's hard to deny him without outright sounding ungrateful. That's one thing you've been noticing lately, how hard it seems to deny him. " I... "

Your hesitation is answer enough, making him visibly deflate. There's a flash of sourness on his face, though it fades quickly. " I get it. That's a big step. We can talk about it another time. "

Thank fuck.

You leave that store with possibly the most beautiful pair of earrings you've ever owned, proceed to wrestle a multitude of bags into your car -Thankful Viridis can't see you sweat it out- And proceed to fix yourself up in preparation for the dinner call. It's a lot easier to go through than the entire shopping spree was. You're home, it's just the two of you, the same as any other meal call you've arranged.

" Was today fun for you, bijou? " He sighs, ever enamored it seems.

" Of course! It's always fun when I get to shop with you. " It's not even a lie. Painted nails graze over the empty pasta plate when you pick new kitchenware up. " Let me just put these in the sink. "

" Uhm, before that- " The imp interrupts as soon as you stand. " Can I ask you for something? "

" ... Yeah? "

" I was wondering if you could try out what you bought today... For me. "

" On- On camera? " You gulp, suddenly feeling a lot more timid.

" Yes. " Viridis scratches the base of his horn. " I'd just... I don't know, it makes me feel closer to you than just seeing pictures of you with it on. I'll compensate, don't worry. "

You don't doubt him.

Part of you really wants to say no. In the midst of all this, you've never once undressed for him. You've put on risky outfits that toyed with the lines of common decency, but that's not as intimate as this.

Which also means he'll pay well.

Fuck.

No.

Yes.

He's waiting...

" Uhh- Erm- I... Y-Yeah, I guess we can try that after I organize things. "

" Super! " He winks at you. " Call me when you're ready. "

And you do. With some liquid courage in your system and a healthy amount of love for disposable income, you call Jayde with all the bags laid out around your bedroom, and the phone positioned just so that he can see you stand, and the reflection of your back on the tall mirror behind you.

You're shaking lightly, it feels like the first call you had with him.

When Viridis answers, you almost don't know what to say.

He's... In his bedroom. At least you've seen it enough times to recognize it as such. Distinctly topless, however. It's the first time you've seen him somewhat undressed. Maybe he's trying to be humorous, as if saying he's half-naked in solidarity with you. It doesn't stop you from staring at a moderately attractive figure.

" Hey! You ready, sweetie? " He grins with that jagged mouth.

" Mhm, yeah. " There's a clearing of the throat. " Why don't you pick the first one? "

He did, all too eagerly. You were quick to shuffle in and out of clothes, cheeks heated, a tiny smile on your face, hoping you could simply ignore the growing discomfort. The demon looked thrilled every second of the way, and even if you could somehow feel him ogling the generous slices of skin you'd show, he made an effort to keep talking just so you'd have something else to focus on.

It's okay, he's only seeing you in your underwear from time to time. You're just doing him a one-time favor. You can forget about it later.

" I guess that's it! " You pant, spinning again so that the imp can see how the lace looks on the back of the dress he bought you. " Boy, that was a lot. "

There's some shuffling coming from the phone, he seems to be sitting straighter now. " I'm... Pretty sure I got you something else. "

There's a long pause. You almost pretend you didn't hear him while you readjust the fabric on you.

" A-Ah? Really? "

" Yeah, check those bags bijou, pretty sure that's not all. " He urges. You can hear a faint tap. tap. tap. from his side.

Well, you tried.

Viridis isn't lying, there's another set he bought for you. Except, this set, is lingerie underwear.

Throughout your shopping trip, you'd forgotten that the local mall has a lingerie store. It wasn't one you had the chance to go to many times, since everything there is so expensive, and before Viridis came along your wallet would just scream in its vicinity...

Nevertheless, you weren't cautious enough to hide it from the camera, didn't think you had to, only to be proven wrong when the imp calls for you to halt and get in. It was awkward. It was very awkward. But he seemed enamored with a green set. It had floral designs covering plenty of see-through space, framing delicate parts of the body such as the nipples.

It is a lovely garment, you won't deny that. But you know the main draw for him was that it just so happened to be a shade of green which alluded to his username. It was viridian green. You looked it up from mild paranoia, yes. This was even more personal.

He insisted you got that one, specifically that one. And so, you did.

It's right there, on the last little bag.

God fucking damn it.

" Mm y-yeah, now that you mention it, I think there is something left, right. "

He hums, and you try to draw out the search as much as you can, in spite of the fucking thing being right there, practically staring you in the eyes. You return to the camera's field of view holding the lingerie up timidly.

" How could you forget that one? It's probably the prettiest thing I ever bought you. " Viridis swoons.

" ... You think so? Everything you get me is pretty, Viridis. " Distract him distract him distract-

Predictably, he blushes a little, a small 'heh' escaping him. " Jayde. Call me Jayde. "

Your head snaps up. Oh wow, okay. We've reached that point.

" Jayde. " His face lifts visibly. " Ah, thanks. It's very cute. "

The silence that follows is more tentative, unspoken words hanging in the air.

" Glad you think so... Can't wait to see how it looks on you. " He grins wide, reminding you, for a fraction of a second, that you're dealing with a demonic monster.

" Hahah, o-ok, let me just turn the camera- "

" Actually- " Your heart sinks. " I'd like to see you put it on. "

" The lingerie? " A bit of franticness bleeds into your tone.

" Yes. "

" R-Right now? "

Jayde chuckles. " Well, it's the only thing that's left, isn't it bijou? "

You think about it for a couple of seconds, wherein the reality of your situation seems to sink in. Can you truly deny him? You don't think Jayde would have an explosive reaction to rejection, but then again, you never rejected his suggestions before. What if he gets offended? Pulls away entirely? You'll never be able to afford this lifestyle without him.

What if all of this has stopped being in your control, and, in the end, you transferred the reigns to someone else?

He reads the reluctance plainly written on your face.

" ... Just this one time, sweetie. " He coaxes. " You're incredibly beautiful, you know that? I'd give a few fingers to see you. "

He continues to speak over the mental rut you've been thrown into.

" Any man would be lucky to have a jewel like you. I want to keep spoiling you forever. Please, put it on for me? "

You don't know what it was. Perhaps the fear of losing his money, maybe it was the praise, or simply the pure desire to get this over with- But, you take off your top.

The scene isn't sexy or mischievous, you just glance away timidly as you lower the straps of your bra and reach back to unclasp it. Your slowness may be unintentionally teasing him, and from the small glances you steal at your phone, he looks stupidly concentrated, cheeks nearly as dark as yours as he finally -Finally!- Gets to see your tits.

Air catches in your throat, you can't quite tell if it's the thrill of exposing yourself or pure anxiety.

" They're gorgeous... " He murmurs. You almost didn't hear it.

Slipping the new fabric in is easier, the garment is designed with maximum comfort in mind and settles nicely on your chest, especially when you arrange your breasts into position.

" Perfect. " Jayde sighs. " I wish I could touch you. You're so perfect. "

If you weren't running hotter than a steaming kettle before, you are now. All you manage to respond with is a hum and nervous giggling.

" Put the whole thing on. "

There's a full-body shiver when you start taking your panties off. In all your nerves, you fail to remember that the mirror behind you makes it so Jayde doesn't just get a view of your mons, he also gets to stare at your ass unhindered.

" Fffucking- "

He whispers something you don't notice when the fabric drops to the floor, and you lift a leg away to pick it up.

You're sliding the new ones up your bare legs when there's a little too much shuffling being heard from his side. Not a lot, but just enough to make you escape your own internal panic.

You only now realize that you can't see his hands anywhere. One is definitely holding the phone close to him, the other... Who knows. His shoulder shifts.

" Uhm, hahah, what are you doing there? " You jokingly ask, trying to reduce the awkwardness of the situation by insinuating something ridiculous.

The teasing look shatters when he doesn't immediately respond or laugh it off. In fact, he looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

" N-!! No way! " You hurriedly fix the panties in place, choking on a breath.

" Sorry- I'm sorry, bijou- " He attempts a wobbly smile, not even denying it. " You just look so adorable flustered. You don't have to see it... Just pretend I'm not... "

Pretend I'm not jerking off, he means.

You can barely raise your voice above a whisper, doing a full turn so he can see how the lingerie sits on your body. Embarrassment has you grabbing your arm and trying to close your legs further, unwittingly flaunting exactly the curves he wants to see.

" You're gorgeous- " He repeats, eyes lidded, something far beyond lust shining in them. " You're the prettiest woman alive. You're sweet, you don't push me away or get spooked. I'm... So happy someone like you gives me the time of day. "

You don't know what to say, don't know what to do besides standing there as a monster audibly gets off on the sight of you in luxury lingerie.

" It's been too long since I met a girl like you. "

You don't quite like the intensity of his stare. Even if no man has ever directed words as flattering as these towards you, it feels like something is too intense about his demeanor.

" Jayde... " You cough. " Are you...? "

" Close. " He admits, laughing breathily. " I've never been this hard before. "

Apparently, he just said it to see you freeze and get even more flustered. " Please hurry up... "

" Are you tired, sweetheart? " His tone is near condescending.

" Y-Yeah. " Anything to speed it along.

" Uhuh, I bet. " Jayde's breathing gets shallower. " You'll go to bed soon, don't worry. "

" Mhm... " God, you're dying inside.

" I love you, bijou. "

Help.

" I... I love you too, Jayde. " You had to drag each word out of your tongue.

That did it. He's tossing his head back and furrowing his brows. You can hear the way Jayde stops breathing to hold any noises in, a groan still makes it through, you hate the traitorous flutter of your pussy that followed.

" I'm... Going to put my pajamas on now. Goodnight Jayde. " You try to break the silence while he recovers.

The expression on the imp's face can only be described as love-drunk, and sweaty.

" Goodnight, sweetie. "

As soon as the call drops, you make an inhuman noise of shame and bury yourself under the covers, kicking shopping bags aside.

It must have been mere minutes before a notification drops.

There's no doubt in you that's the demon's "compensation".

#Jayde oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato tag #not sfw #minors dni #pinnie's art

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signedkoko · 11 months ago

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HII I have been reading your writing for a while now and I lOVE IT! I've been waiting to put in a req when they got open sooo! (Your writing always makes me hAPPYY when they come out) <33 Any chance of an Overlord!GN reader with Mammon / Striker? Just general romantic Headcannons- Like how it is to date them/everyday stuff with them (The reader is always serious (and tall 👀) and owns a big casino in pride (Maybe Mammon taking interest in it? idk))

Mammon | Striker [Romantic]

In which you are their overlord s/o that owns the largest casino in the pride ring. Reader is genderneutral.

The guy looks like a total clown next to you

And he is, but he loses any sense of danger when he's standing next to you, who happens to be just a few inches taller than him

Your cold sneer next to that goofy grin, like he knows he's totally lucked out having such a hottie for an s/o

To many in the greed ring, he was the greediest of all, but when they came up top to the sinners realm and met some of the overlords that roamed the lands, they started to realize that yeah, maybe Mammon wasn't so bad

While Mammon used to attract many fans, ever since you two became an item, they've stayed far, far away

At first, he hated it because it meant he couldn't scam some pathetic sinners

But you had the idea that he could come by your casino for official meet and greets; that way, people would pay the entrance fee for you and him for just fucking around in a casino all day

Mammon is actually kind of an airhead at times

He isn't stupid, but he isn't all there, especially when with you; he just turns his brain off and lets you do the thinking

You're better at it anyways

During extermination, you can't go down and be safe with him; he will often come up just to ensure your safety

Sure, you seem scarier, but that's only because he is in his smaller form

You two are a literal power couple; you could take over all of hell if you tried hard enough

Striker always preferred to stay away from the pride ring

Sinners were such a hassle, especially keeping up with the overlords and what they considered 'theirs'

In fact, he'd stay in wrath all the time if he could, but business always called for his presence in the upper ring

He isn't stupid enough to fall into the grip of an overlord-run casino, but more than one of his targets did

Your security caught him more than once sneaking angelic weapons into your casino

The third time it happened was enough, and you came forward yourself to speak to the man

He was charming and convincing, but you weren't one to let things slide so easily

You promised he could do whatever he liked with your occupants, given that he gets their casino dues in

And well, for how much he was paid, that wasn't too terrible a deal

The two of you ended up a bit more than intertwined, though, and the assassin managed to worm his way into your heart

And god, was it ever a sight

One of the oldest overlords that towered over anyone that came before them, with a face like a funeral, next to an imp

An imp no one really knew, either

At the end of the day, the only people who dared question you were other overlords, but they tended to leave their noses out of others business, respectfully or not

While you could defend yourself rather well, Striker is more than happy to handle anyone who dares try to touch you

Interrogations are useful, you know; that way, he can kill off the whole chain of command

He's very romantic and gentlemanly with you, even if you don't ask for such from him

Don't think your position of power will ever make him feel like he is the lesser; he will take good care of you no matter who you are

Author's Note - Thank you so much for requesting, I'm glad you got a chance! It was a nice break going back to some Helluva Boss characters (not that I hate writing hazbin, but it was a lot of requests).

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader #striker #striker x reader

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blarshwritezz · 6 months ago

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hallooo

can i request angry sex with your teacher when hes just so angry that you keep getting low grades on his subject

hope this gets noticed ^^^

Why most certainly!

Teacher x Failing Student Reader

M x gn reader

TW - NSFW, noncon, abuse of power(?), sadism

You were his favorite student. Never annoying, never acting out, exactly his type, and you had so much potential. But it was all wasted on useless things! You could have been putting that big, beautiful brain to good use, but instead you focused on other things! Useless things that would never help you in the real world!

So of course, being a concerned teacher, he simply had to ask you to stay after class so he could conference with you. So he could find a way to rectify this situation.

But it did not go like that. Not at all.

"If failing your stupid class is really going to ruin my whole life, I'll just become a hooker. I don't need anything you teach here for that." You said sarcastically. It was (mostly) a joke. Bit seriously, your life goals didn't include the subject he taught.

But hearing that really sent him over the edge. A hooker? You? Some bitch on the street offering up your body for money? Maybe you didn't realize exactly how people treated hookers. Maybe he should show you. It was only fair. After all, you always get him so hard whenever you're so close to him.

Without another useless word, he roughly grabbed your scalp and forced your lips to meet his. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring as his other hand quickly undid his belt and pulled down his pants. His throbbing cock sprung free, already leaking precum.

He disconnected his lips from yours, only giving you a second to breathe before forcing you head down to his cock.

"Lick it. You think you're ready for the life of a whore, then prove it." He demanded, his grip on your scalp tightening slightly.

Nervously, you did as he said. You licked his veiny cock up and down, the salty taste of his pre hitting your tongue.

"Now open wide." Without even waiting for you to do it yourself, he slipped his thumb past your lips and forced them open. He guided his cock into your mouth, making you gag when he hit the back of your throat.

He fucked your mouth hard, probably bruising your throat and making you cry. "That's a good fucking whore."

You looked up, meeting his eyes. He smirked seeing your tears, only more turned on by the sight. He seemed to get off at the fact that you were in pain.

"Damn slut...always turning me on. This is your damn fault." His fingers duh deeper into your scalp, holding you down as he finally came. The hot, white liquid spilled from your lips as you tried to take it all in. It drippled down your chin and onto your chest, staining your shirt.

Finally he let you go and at last you got a gasp of. You coughed out a bit of cum, catching your breath. But then he grabbed you chin and roughly forced you too look back up at him.

"You know, a good whore would swallow. Now clean your self up and get you damn work done."

Yayy I did it (finally)

#blarsh writes #yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #anon ask #male yandere #yandere x you #male x reader #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere x y/n

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qqueenofhades · 28 days ago

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I bought your 'Empire' the other day (which I am excited about; I haven't started it yet), but somehow completely missed that you had written historical fiction, and about the Plantagenets, my favourite historical dynasty, so I'll be jumping on that.

I was wondering if you had recommendations for historical fiction set during the Plantagenet reign? I've tried Sharon Kay Penman and unfortunately didn't get on with her writing, which is a shame as I've heard good things about her series. I know Philippa Gregory has several novels set during that time period, but her books seem to be verging on bodice rippers, which isn't what I'm looking for. Was just curious if you had any suggestions for well-researched fiction set during the Plantagenet reign.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for several days (my apologies) largely because I was trying to think of a more helpful answer for you. Medieval historical fiction is VERY hit and miss for me, not least because it is often written by people who, uh, are not historians and thus have Certain Ideas (TM) about what the medieval period is like. Or they want to use various aesthetics, or they want to make some (usually questionable) point about how women were treated in the past, or they just go whole-hog on total nonsense. As an example of all of these things at once, let us all stare in horror at this recently-released book description together:

(The book is called the Stone Witch of Florence, by the way. I took one look at this and ran screaming. WHY.)

A stone witch?? So she channels the power of gemstones like a modern-day Instagram healing crystals influencer??? BUT ZOMGZ WITCHCRAFT. In the middle of the Black Death. "Unorthodox cures" you say. But they also need holy relics for protection, and I totally trust the author to understand about medieval hagiography/cult of the saints. Totally. We definitely won't get some half-baked comparison between Sekrit Women Magical Gems Which Really Work and Dark Ages Church Superstition Holy Relics Which Are A Fraud, or.... something??? And our nobly mistreated protagonist will super definitely be a real physician if she gets these and never ever accused of witchcraft (which LET US ALL SAY IT TOGETHER IS AN EARLY MODERN THING!!!!) Because medieval medicine was just a bunch of gemstone vibes anyway! Makes total sense!

...my head hurts.

Anyway, while not all examples are this egregious, the point is: I love historical fiction, but I almost always can't read it when it's set in the medieval era. I read Sharon Kay Penman a while ago and enjoyed her stuff at the time, though I have assorted gripes with it on a stylistic/historical level. While Philippa Gregory does have real academic credentials, she likewise has gone totally down the bodice-ripper alternate-history crackpot theory Secret Women Magic version of things, which is... fine if that's your jam, but just like you, it is not mine. I thus have to read fiction which is set in other periods or which I know less about or where at least I am more capable of turning off my brain and accepting things for the sake of the story. So as you see, I unfortunately don't have many useful suggestions for you in this field, since the kind of medieval historical fiction that I like to recommend is, say, The Name of the Rose. Which is terrific and written for someone of a professional medievalist's level of knowledge, but is not exactly everyone's cup of tea when they just want something fun and easy to understand.

I am, of course, happy to give other book recommendations if you'd like to broaden your request, and I'll do my best to think -- but yes! As I said, I wish I could be more helpful here. I shall persist.

(Also, of course: thanks for buying EMPIRE! I do hope you enjoy.)

#cbk1000 #ask

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kitagenre · 5 months ago

Text

achilles' heel | hoshina x f!reader

synopsis: the vice-captain has always been invisible, the perfect adjective for someone who is in a job where people come and go.

warning: language! (aside from that there's none... i think)

a/n: just very self-indulgent ! i hope my hoshina gurlies will love this 🤞🏼🥰🤍

"What's the situation in Tachikawa?"

"Not good. The amount of Yojus is continuously increasing," Konomi reported, "Shinomiya is helping a ton right now. But, this will be really, really bad if you don't go here immediately, Vice-Captain,"

Out of all the days, he had to go to the headquarters today for the monthly briefing with the general. Out of all the days, he thought in disbelief. He should've taken that unsettling feeling of seeing the squad, and you, smiling at each other this morning before he and Mina went.

"How many more minutes?" Mina asked the officer who was preparing for the special transportation that they would use to go back to Tachikawa base.

"30 minutes, Captain—"

"Make it ten," Sochiro says with finality.

"Vice-Captain Hoshina, that will be impossible to do—" Maybe it's a combination of fear, anxiety, and desperation, but in the blink of an eye, Sochiro grabs the collar of the officer in front of him, "Make it ten."

"Hoshina." Mina calls his name, making him stop. Holding onto Sochiro's shoulder, Mina prompted him to step back from the officer, "Please make it as fast as you can. We cannot waste more time."

"R-Roger!"

"Calm down, Vice-Captain," Mina spoke again, "They will be fine. Our officers are strong."

He knows that. He knows that more than anyone. He trained those officers with his own hands and pushed them every day to their limits. He's the one who guided them from the very beginning. But there's this... fear... that he cannot explain. And he hates himself for that.

Soshiro knows better than anyone that attachments should not be fostered in this line of work. They have a job with no certainty of tomorrow. People come and go all the time. As someone who has been here for the past years, gained and lost comrades in every mission, Soshiro thinks that he'll be smart enough to not fall in love with anyone. But that day... was just different.

When you walked into the exam room and he first saw you on the screen from the operations room, your hair was a little messy but in a pretty way, you were smiling at everyone, and you were so happy to get that 7% combat power for the first time. You were the most gentle in that batch, aside from being the most beautiful, and something about you messed with his brain.

It's like you wore your empathy like a weapon.

The first time he interacted with you alone was after your first mission. Soshiro got injured after saving an officer. He doesn't usually get injured with small-fry Kaijus, besides, he's one of the strongest in the Defense Force, but the timing was off and the only thing he wants is to save that officer. You did the first aid for his bleeding arm and continuously checked on him after that.

Soshiro couldn't explain it. He just woke up one day without the walls he hardly built up and found himself scared of losing you. He found himself secretly pursuing you inside the base. Giving you small gifts like it's a mission. Leaving just because flowers, mostly peonies, whenever he can drop by that flower shop near the Hoshina mansion. Leaving you notes with a smile on his face because the whole dorm is wiretapped. Requesting day-offs that coincide with yours. Soshiro was confused, but he was happy.

He shuts his eyes. How fucking selfish of him to only think of you right now, right?

"Let's go, Hoshina. They are ready."

Reports are continuously done through their earpieces. He can only listen. As long as he can still hear your name in action. Please, you have to hold on. Just until they are back to the base.

"Fortitude 9! A daikaiju just appeared! Shinomiya and ___ are facing it right now!"

Shivers went down his spine, and a wave of anger laced his voice as he shouted, "Tell them to back off! Are they fucking crazy?!"

You are not dumb. You are one of the most improved officers. But Fortitude 9 is just too much for your current stats. Hell, it's even too much for Kikoru right now who is much more advanced than you when it comes to skills.

"Hoshina." Mina calls him again, "Trust our officers."

"But—"

"They are not weaklings," Mina says.

You surely aren't. But he is, he admits in his mind. When it comes to you, he is.

The ride to Tachikawa base is agonizing.

When they reached the base, the fire caused by the raid was already gobbling up the buildings. Immediately, Sochiro went straight to the location of the Daikaiju and found you and Kikoru in an awful situation. You're down and unconscious after colliding with a wall.

Kikoru is still okay, but both of you need to go now.

"Vice-Captain!"

"Get out of here, Shinomiya." He commanded.

Kikoru stood up, wanting to get you out of the situation too, but Soshiro noticed her foot injury, "Get out! Now!"

"Vice-Captain, __ is still—"

"Worry about yourself." He says. It's an order. Kikoru knows.

He is a hypocrite. Because the first thing he did was to get the Kaiju away from where you're lying down as much as possible, "I am definitely going to kill you, disgusting piece of shit."

All his life, Soshiro was undermined. He's not good enough. He's not strong enough. His katana will never make a difference. He won't be able to save other people with it. But he did. He became Vice-Captain. Ashiro trusted him. His officers believe in him. But if he won't be able to save you today, then maybe they are right.

"Do you know who that girl is, you ugly fucker?" Sochiro asked the monster in front of him, "Someone you shouldn't touch because I'll definitely tear you to pieces if you do. Go to fucking hell now."

Kaijus has always angered Sochiro. But, the level of rage he has right now is just different and even Mina was shocked. They gave them no time to attack using big weapons as Sochiro went for the core of the Daikaju on his own.

They seized the Kaiju's body in possession for further studies and potential help that it could give the Defense Force. With blood on his forehead, Sochiro sprinted towards you after the kaiju was down. Pulling you close to his arms. You have a heartbeat, but very very injured. He still sighs in relief. As long as there's a heartbeat, "__," he calls for you faintly.

Broken ribs. A head concussion. Damaged weapons and suit maxed out. You really did your best out there. But you're still not a hero. You will never be. You just did your best because you know that he will come. There's no way he won't.

Thanks to the advanced technology of the Defense Force, your recovery was much faster. The Tachikawa base is under renovation after the huge damage and you were transferred to the care of Division 1 in the meantime, along with Kikoru and the hottest name in the force right now, Kafka Hibino.

Kikoru told you everything that happened. It turned out that Kafka is Kaiju No. 8 and he revealed himself to the force to protect everyone in Tachikawa. Captain Ashiro and Vice-Captain Hoshina thought that the Kaiju was officially down after Hoshina went to you, turns out that the raid is planned out more than the Defense Force expected. You weren't surprised though. You trust your comrades that much.

"Think you can start training tomorrow again?" Captain Narumi asks you.

"Yes, Captain." You feel fine and normal.

"Good," Gen smirked, "I don't give special treatments. Start showing me what you actually got. I am very, very curious."

"Captain," you gathered every courage left to address him.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for asking you but I don't know anyone else here to ask, but is Vice-Captain Hoshina okay?"

Gen's face was painted with astonishment upon hearing your question. You are just wondering... it's not like he needs to answer it. You wrote him a text the moment you got your phone but he never responded. It's also not like he needs to reply, he probably has a lot of things to do after all that damage. But, you're just so worried.

"Do you think I give a fuck about that bowl-cut dude?" Narumi chuckles. Wow, he's really immature, you thought, "If you're asking if he's still alive, unfortunately, yes."

You concluded that you wouldn't get a decent answer from Narumi so you just saluted and went out of his office. When morning came, you were finally out again in the field. But since you're still adjusting, you stick with an exercise routine that you usually do before combat training. And honestly, even if you want to spar with Narumi, you feel like you'll just mess it up.

You can't stop thinking about Sochiro.

But weeks passed after your recovery and you're still waiting to hear from him that you're now pissed. You do not have an excuse anymore and Gen is already forcing you to spar with him. So, you did.

"That's all you got?" Narumi chuckles, pinning you on the ground, "You're overrated."

"What?" Your eyebrows furrowed at him as you kicked his stomach to get out of his grip. But Narumi is strong, there's a reason he's the Captain of Division 1.

"Your Vice-Captain praised you so much," he chuckled.

"Your fault, you believed him." You smirked. Just hearing the word Vice-Captain pissed you off, "Let go of me now."

"Don't wanna," Narumi smirks again.

"What? I'm gonna—"

"Captain Narumi," you were cut off by a voice you longed to hear for weeks. Gen's smile went wider at the sight of Sochiro. This son of a bitch. He knows Sochiro is coming and he's doing this to piss him off. You finally kicked him out of you.

"Well, well, how are you, Hoshina?" Narumi's mocking him.

"Good," he answered, "The meeting will start in minutes, Captain Narumi."

"Too bad I'm busy sparring with my officer,"

"I'm sure Officer __ can wait for you." Your eyes darted to Sochiro. His coldness sent shivers down your spine. The frustration and confusion crawled in your system once again. You haven't seen each other for weeks and this is how he treats you? Like who the fuck cares if Narumi's here? Does he want to be a professional gentleman now?

Or... maybe he's just done with you. Maybe the rumors are right. The Vice-Captain is never serious when it comes to his relationships. Now that you're not under his wing, he's already done. Maybe that's it, then?

Narumi doesn't really have a choice so he stood up and went with Sochiro to go to the meeting, leaving you alone in the training room. Just in time for dinner, you went with Kikoru and Kafka.

"Vice-Captain is here, have you seen him?" Kikoru asked. You nodded quietly.

After dinner, you changed to a pair of sleepwear. Don't get it wrong, you love Division 1. But you just really want to go back to Tachikawa.

Unable to sleep, you stayed looking at the window from your room. You're in the same position when the raid happened. You remembered thinking about what's really between you and Sochiro. Maybe you got the answer you want now.

"How are you?" You almost jumped out of shock as you hear his voice. Sochiro stands beside the door, "The door is unlocked. I'm sorry."

You looked away from him— tearing up. Wow, he's here, but does that make up for the days he ghosted you? This asshole. Maybe Narumi should really punch him in the gut.

"If Narumi is forcing you to train, tell me—"

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry, baby,"

Oh, how you hate this man. He knows exactly what to do. He knows exactly how to get you over and over again.

"I hate you so much," you looked at him.

To you, Sochiro is like the stars. Before entering the Defense Force, everyone admired Mina Ashiro. But you were different. You admired the Vice-Captain who is mostly not seen. He saved you once when you were a civilian. He saved you over and over again when you were a cadet, and he still continued to save you when you became an officer.

"Not a single response to my messages? Not a single letter? Do you know how worried I am? Do you know how much I thought that you're blaming yourself for what happened when that's not—" In the blink of an eye, Sochiro envelopes your small figure to his arms.

"I'm sorry,"

"If you're done with me, you can just tell me." You removed yourself from his embrace.

"Done with you?"

"Isn't that the reason why, Vice-Captain Hoshina?" You asked him, "You're probably—"

"You scared the fuck out of me that I got scared even more because I never felt that way before. I was terrified, that I have to take a step back," He spoke, "Tell me why would you face a Daikaiju like that? You have nothing to lose? You're not scared?"

"I am an officer of the Defense Force, Vice-Captain. That is my duty—"

"Fuck that." He hissed, "What about me?"

"What about you?" You asked in confusion. Sochiro is never the type to curse his duty. He loves his job. He fought for this job.

"I can't lose you."

"Sochiro..."

"For years, I fought for the Defense Force thinking I have nothing to lose. Death never scared me. But when I saw you lying down, unconscious, I feel like being punched in the gut a million times, __." Seeing him lose his composure is new to you, "This is so wrong because I have a duty to fulfill and so are you and it's unfair for the Defense Force that we took an oath for, but I just can't... lose you..."

"Sochiro..." you held his face, "You won't lose me just because of that. I am not weak."

"I know." He gave you a weak smile, "But I am... when it comes to you. You're my Achilles' heel."

The great Vice-Captain Sochiro Hoshina is confessing that you make his knees tremble in fear, something not even the biggest Kaiju can do. He envelopes you in his warmth and places a soft kiss on your forehead, "I love you too damn much."

#hoshina x reader #sochiro hoshina x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #hoshina sochiro #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader

141 notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 11 months ago

Note

Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭

It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))

EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]

Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD

Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).

If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.

Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.

You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.

When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.

Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.

The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.

You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.

Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.

Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.

For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.

“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.

“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.

You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”

The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.

Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.

Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.

You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.

All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.

-----

You couldn't believe it.

As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?

It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.

Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.

To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.

Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.

As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.

Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?

He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.

You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.

“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”

And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.

“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”

“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”

“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly.

The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.

“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.

Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.

Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.

Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.

Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.

In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat. You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.

It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.

“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.

Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.

“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.

When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.

“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.

Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.

“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.

You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.

“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.

You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.

“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.

However, he didn't let go of your hand.

“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”

It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.

“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.

Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?

So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.

You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.

“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”

Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.

“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.

“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”

That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.

“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.

This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”

You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.

For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.

Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.

Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.

You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.

“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.

When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.

“What's all this?”

You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”

“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.

“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”

“You work overtime?”

Now you were starting to get irritated.

“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.

But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.

Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.

“Y/N, I-”

“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.

You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?

And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.

-----

You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.

Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.

However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.

It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.

And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.

When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay��.

The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.

You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?

When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.

You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.

Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.

Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.

“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.

“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.

“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”

The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.

“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.

“Aren't we talking right now?”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.

“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.

He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.

“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”

Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.

“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.

And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.

Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.

“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.

-----

Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.

And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.

You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.

“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.

“But Nando, I need to finish these-”

He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.

“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.

Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.

And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.

“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.

You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.

“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.

“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”

Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.

Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.

THE END

Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)

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dontbesoweirdkira · 20 days ago

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Hey! Can I request Yandere Spider Man (Tom Holland, No way home) reacting to his darling of other universe?

I was thinking this: The darling of his universe is really nice and laid-back, already knew he was spider Man and helps him somehow (like a ned), but when the whole multiverse thing happens and villains from other spider mans appear, one of the villains is his darling, but a version from another universe, one of the super villains is his love, but at same time not.

Would he be confused, would he feel nothing since he knows it's not totally his darling? Would he feel weird?

(Sorry if this is confusing, my english is terrible and I don't remember much of Marvel films lol)

A/N: Hello! This is an interesting request and I really like the concept. Don't apologize for your English. Thank you for requesting.

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Hmm... I think he'd be very confused. It's weird knowing that there's different versions of the people he loves out there. It's even weirder seeing you so viscous and powerful. All he's ever known his darling to be is reserved maybe even shy at times.

There's also this internal struggle because it's not technically you but....he feels so compelled to her in the same way he feels towards you. He can't kind it in him to fight back, "she needs to be protected" "she's just a little off track" "If she becomes rehabilitated she'll have a chance to become like this y/n" ...he tells himself. He wants to give her love and be just as gentle as he is with you but...at the same time....it feels so wrong.

He doesn't want to hurt you, it'd be like if he started showing love to your twin. You guys may look the same and have the same genetic makeup but you're still different people.

So he'll try and tread carefully. I think he'll try to separate his heart from her. It's hard because when his brain sees your face, it sends him into this obsessed frenzy. Treating her like the rest of the villains is so tough. Peter even struggles to treat them with a neutrality.

There are times during her stay, he finds himself being lured into her. Like she could tell him to do something wrong and he'd almost be willing to do it just because it's "you". Or he has to stop himself from getting worked up when she coos his name.

She knows the effect that you have on him so I can imagine her playing on that to try and trick him. She knows that he won't get angry at "you" anyways.

You'll notice that he tries not to make eye contact with her and focus more on the other villains. He'd also seems to stare at you more intensely whenever you're both in the same room in order to keep his mind on you. Maybe even a bit more physically affectionate too. He's holding you close to him and kissing you more often to make it clear that you are his.

He's anxious and a whole mess during this entire thing. Eventually, he starts wanting her gone and is a bit more aggressive. Peter still tries his best to help her the best he can before sending her back but he's not as eager about it. He doesn't like that she's making you insecure or that his attention becomes drawn to her...

He loves you so much and just knowing that a version of "you" is evil and caused her own demise, saddens him.... But just because you're his darling, does that mean he's really supposed to protect every version of you?

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circeyoru · 10 months ago

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Hi.. Can I ask for yandere alastor with the reader who owns his soul, ( more questions because I'm curious about this scenario )....

What would it be like if the reader, through guilt, gave her soul to Alastor, like it would be fair for the reader to give her soul to Alastor, since he gave his soul to the reader ( would Alastor see this as a distorted marriage proposal? as a declaration of love, distorted? )

What would it be like if the others at the hotel found out about this relationship between Alastor and reader? What would it be like if there were more than 1 yandere, what would it be like if vox or lucifer slowly became yanderes for the reader, what would happen?

To those that have no idea what this is talking about, check out {Unwanted Soul}

I am not kidding when I say there's a back-to-back request on the first question. So I had to answer in the other request cause this second question's answer's gonna be a long one

For the 2nd question.

Part 1. Basically, Charlie and the other's reaction to finding out about Alastor and Reader's relationship, including the soul-owning thing (but not the details like limited power, or you healing Alastor)

As a baseline, they all unanimously agreed that Alastor was the one completely and utterly obsessed with you, and you just accepted it and made the best of the situation. Niffty: She doesn't see an issue. Alastor had mentioned you to her beforehand. She was also the one to fix up your room before you moved in. She encourages and even asks for your secret. How did you get bad boy Alastor to commit to you? She wants some of the action too. (you told Alastor to keep Niffty away from you whenever she's in that crazy zone, but then you got used it to, somewhat) Husk: He thought he could use it to his advantage. You were the timid and quiet type. So he actually tried to get your sympathy to his situation, Alastor was being threatening, Alastor was being mean. Haha, no go. Because you didn't care. He picked up that your attention and interest is very limited and hard to gain, Alastor taking years to do so even. Now Husk gave up on trying to get you to help his situation, but when he saw Alastor acting that docile to you and you not using your powers against Alastor? He's envious that you weren't the one to hold his soul Angel: Shocked. 100% shocked that Alastor willingly given his soul to a weaker demon (he never saw you battling Adam or your powers and abilities in action). Similar to Husk, he's actually envious that you didn't do anything against Alastor's will, even when you have his soul in the palm of your hands. He saw that Alastor was as free as a bird, really. He also wanted that freedom that Alastor had and the bond you two shared. He's very confused as to why Alastor was that enamoured with you though, you weren't anything special (don't let Alastor hear that). He spoke to you since about it and you agreed without missing a beat. Yeah, he's so confused Vaggie: A bit of Husk and Angel's reaction. She's shocked that you own Alastor's soul and have his affection, confused that Alastor gave his soul to you and acts lovey-dovey with you, and grateful that you were the one to have Alastor's soul. While it was a bit to take in, knowing that you were less inclined to violence and destruction, you weren't a threat to the hotel or Charlie. So that was good. Still, she is aware that your emotions can flip easily and Alastor will act on them faster than you'd stop him or you just won't. She knows you're a landmine and she needs to be careful Charlie: Very very supportive. Her brain literally skipped the whole soul-owning bit. Alastor loves you a lot and you love Alastor in your own unique way. It's like her and Vaggie! She's so happy to have another couple in the hotel. She'd try arranging double dates, if that's possible. Alastor's 100% for it since he gets to spend time with you, but knows you'd rather not have other strangers (Charlie and Vaggie) roped into your hobby and interest. She tries to give relationship advice and ask for some from you and Alastor. The first few times, you let her, but then you got annoyed with it. It wasn't established that you and Alastor were a couple and he didn't mind, with that label also coming out of Charlie's mouth. You were quick to avoid her whenever you wandered around the hotel. Alastor steps in and strictly warns Charlie not to try helping again Lucifer: Very hesitant to accept it, but lets his skeptism go when he sees you were happy and fine with the situation. He's amazed that you got Alastor to give his soul to you that easily, but he's also scared that you might have gotten into deep sh*t with you connection with Alastor. He keeps an eye out for you, sometimes checking in with you too

Part 2. What if there's more yanderes for Reader?

Are you trying to exhaust yourself? Yanderes you mentioned, Lucifer and Vox crave attention and you don't exactly give a lot. Remember, you're a shut-in and you can do without the extra presence around you. Since Alastor is more than enough (he's so happy to hear that). Needless to say, you avoid a repeat of what happened to Alastor. You read and watch anime, you know the signs. The reason why Alastor was let into your life was because he was the one giving you attention and didn't hinder you, plus he grew on you. Another thing, time. It took Alastor 7 years and you still sent him away to the hotel to work for some minor interest of yours. You think there can just be a new yandere? No, no. You're happy to prove that you were no pushover. Alastor is essentially under your command and he will happily take your orders and fulfil them beyond your expectations. So Vox is trying to spy on you? "Cut off his power, Alastor." Yeah, the Vee's entire area was out of electricity for a good few days. Lucifer's breaking into your room? "Alastor, set up a barrier." You're in some form of shadow realm, curtsy of Alastor's power, with all you ever need. You are the type to stick to one extreme and have sides as 'back-up', you can have Lucifer as a friend, but never a yandere since you can't handle it. As for Vox? You don't even know him. At least with Lucifer, you once worked for him. Plus Vox is Alastor's rivial, right? Let them fight, you're sure Alastor can handle it even with his powers limited.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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mirapril · 1 year ago

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Hi, I would like some Castlevania headcanons please! About Alucard having a younger sibling but the sibling is still a child :D

OMGGG MY FIRST REQUEST!!! Ty sm for the request <3

so sorry I didn't see it until now 😭

since gender wasn't specified ill make reader gn

also this is my first time writing headcanons so I hope this is good enough😭

Feel free to give me any feedback or constructive criticism <3

Alucard x child!sibling!gn!reader Headcanons

fluffy brother/little sibling stuff

word count: 557

warnings: none, a little bit angsty at the end

When BigBrother!Alucard met you for the first time he swore on his life that he'd always protect you no matter what. no man nor beast will ever be able to harm you. not while he was around

While your mother was treating people of the village and your father was down in his lab researching, your big brother would play with you to keep you from causing any trouble

You’d play things like hide and seek together, which wasn’t really fair since he was as way more experienced with his powers than you are at your young age :(

"Adrian, this isn't fair! you're way older and faster than me!"

"You're the one who said you wanted to have a race y/n. You'll never get faster if you don't try you know."

When I say he’d do anything for you I mean it

He’d especially get into trouble with his father for you

On one occasion he had taken one of your fathers “pretty” science tubes but ended up knocking something important onto some also very important blueprints

Your father kept a very close eye on you both when you were around his lab after that

BigBrother!Alucard is also in charge of making sure you don’t get yourself lost in the woods around your home

You’d purposefully leave the house without telling anyone just so your older brother would have to find you

You loved when he had to chase you around big trees and across wide ponds with rocks surrounding them

Of course, he could easily catch you but usually he’d let you have your fun

He did have mini heart attacks whenever you’d run too fast around the steep and slippery rocks

His main worry was you falling and hitting your head on a rock or falling into the river

"Y/n! Watch where you're running! You don't want to run into another tree do you?"

Also BigBrother!Alucard is basically your tutor

Your parents taught you too, but you preferred your brother's teachings because he made lessons more fun for you

There was a time when your whole family went on one of your fathers' trips since he loved to travel so much

You got to see all sorts of sights together :)

For obvious reasons, your family didn't get out much, so it was a nice change of scenery for the four of you

After the death of your mother and father Alucard was the only one you had left

Alucard was worried about how your little brain was going to process such a loss, but he did his best to comfort you

It was hard for him to act like not only a brother, but a mother and father for you

You were very much brighter than most children at your age so you saw how much it was taking a toll on your brother

You tried to comfort him the best you could

"Don't worry Adrian. I don't feel so lonely because you look so much like mama! It's like I have you and her in one person :)"

He usually just laughed it off when you said strange things like that

He was also sad that you were literally growing up way faster than regular children should

He missed when you were small enough for him to cradle you in one arm

i got sad at the end cuz i was listening to music and i thought about reader and alucard growing up together :(

#x gn reader #x reader #castlevania #castlevania x reader #child reader #alucard castlevania #alucard x reader #x female reader #x male reader

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waltwhitmansbeard · 2 months ago

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Hello! may I request any prompt of your choosing from the hurt/comfort list if I specifically ask for tlovm vaxleth? thank you!

10. "Don't worry about anything now."

It's cold in Whitestone, especially at night, but Keyleth doesn't feel it. Her body is warm, hot even, pressed back against Vax like this. His arm is draped over her, his chin hooked over her shoulder. Her naked shoulder. Because she's naked. They both are. Because they had sex.

Vax's breathing is slow and even, and Keyleth is working overtime to keep hers the same way. It's not that she's freaking out—she's not. Not really. Except her body is sore, pleasantly so, dully tingling in the memory of his hands on her, in her—oh, and while that was happening, the people of Whitestone were burying their dead. And Thordak was still burning Emon. And Raishan was probably plotting her inevitable betrayal. And Percy was lying in a tomb, surrounded by generations of deceased de Rolos. But oh gods, the things Vax's tongue can do.

She's a bad person. That has to be it. She gets together with Vax in their dead friend's home? While Vex is in mourning? Who does that? Sure, she was waiting for Vax to pull his head out of his ass long before Percy died, but still, she could have waited, should have waited, found a better moment, done everything differently—

"You're thinking so loud." Vax's voice is a sleepy rumble in her ear as his arm tightens around her.

She laughs nervously. "Sorry. Just, um. A lot to think about."

His nose trails lazily up the back of her neck. "Care to share?"

Now she's in a pickle. She can't tell him what she was really thinking about, because then he'll think she regrets sleeping with him, which she doesn't—at least, not like that. And she's always been so bad at lying. And if she says she's thinking about Percy, will he think she wishes he were here instead? Because wow, no. She has to lie. But say what—

"Kiki, seriously. If you think any louder you're going to wake up the whole castle."

"Was this a mistake?" She feels his body stiffen, and his arm starts to retract. Fully panicking now, she grabs his hand, uses it to tug herself around so she's on her back, where she can see his face. It's shell-shocked, hurt. "That is not what I meant. I don't—I don't regret this. I don't regret you. I promise, Vax."

His face softens a bit, but he's still regarding her skeptically. "I'm really struggling to find another interpretation here, Kiki."

"No, I know, I just meant—" She throws her forearm over her eyes so she doesn't have to look at him. "Percy is dead and Vex is heartbroken and Whitestone is in ruins again and we have to fight Thordak and Raishan is such a bitch and gods I am so behind on my Aramenté and really what right do I have to be happy with you when everything is terrible—"

He shuts her up by kissing her. His hand pulls her face closer to his, and her arm falls away from her eyes as she melts against his lips. For a moment, everything is quiet.

"Keyleth," he murmurs against her mouth. "You are beautiful and powerful and wise and so very, very silly."

"I'm not—"

"You are. There is no 'deserving' happiness. There is just...finding it. With our friends. With our families." His thumb traces little circles where his hand cups her jaw. "Here, in this bed, with you. You know, a very wise woman once pointed out to me how foolish it was to forgo current happiness for fear of future pain." He smirks at her. "I'd hate to see her forgo current happiness because she's guilty about the suffering of others."

Keyleth chews her lip. "But there are things we could be doing. People we could be helping."

"We can't help anyone if we're too exhausted to stand. C'mere." He gently spins her around again so that he's spooning her, her hand cupped in his, and yeah, the feeling of him behind her, warm and solid, does make the brain chatter quiet a bit. "Don't worry about anything now. We have so much time to worry, I promise you. All of the things you're concerned about will be there in the morning, and so will I." He kisses the nape of her neck. "I don't know what the future holds, but I can't imagine thinking about that when I have my favorite person in the world in my arms."

He squeezes her close, and Keyleth breathes in the arm, woodsy scent of him. Alright. Maybe he's right. Maybe the horrors will still be waiting come daylight. Maybe they can share this night, and the happiness it has brought them. She closes her eyes, and soon, she is dreaming of hundreds more nights, just like this.

#ask #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #tlovm #tlovm fic #cr fic #my fic #vaxleth #vaxleth fic

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finniestoncrane · 10 months ago

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Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #captain boomerang headcanons #suicide squad: kill the justice league

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godhandler · 4 months ago

Text

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#8 : Ice-Cream Date

[why should you trust Noritoshi Kamo? Why should he trust you?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, Danny DeVito, forced marriage, child marriage, small filler chapter a bit to round out the plot, omg they’re getting along, house captivity, fluff]

#7 - Jealousy, Jealousy #9 : The Lady Kamo

“This is not fun at all.” You huff at Noritoshi Kamo. “I want to throw flying kicks.”

Your husband has got you doing warm-up shit for the past half an hour: running, touching toes, stretching. For someone who spitefully promised to replace Kanato, his half-brother, as your martial arts tutor, he’s not letting you do much of martial arts. Only the promise of letting you shoot arrows from his bow is making you not immediately leave the training room.

“You’ll injure yourself if you do all that without any prior training. We’ll go step-by-step. Now–” Kamo leans over you from behind, lightly pulling your waist to correct your downward dog form (you reckon your blush can be put down to exercise; you’re just 14 after all). “– Distil me, and predict my next movements. That’s useful in combat.”

Is this a test? Noritoshi knows that you’re strictly forbidden from using your cursed technique, under the threat of heavy punishment. Maybe he’s trying to get me into trouble so I can’t go to Jujutsu High. But… didn’t he sign my school admission papers himself? Did he change his mind?

“I never use Distillation, not since I came here.” You’re not taking any chances. Going to Jujutsu High is literally the only way you can be independent. Or else you live the rest of your life like Miyumi Kamo does: disrespected and discarded once her use was over. So you lie through your teeth: “I don’t even remember how to use it.”

“It’s impossible to forget your cursed technique. It’s engraved onto your brain, body and soul. So go ahead, Distil me.”

What game are you playing, Kamo?

“I can’t.”

“You already did, didn’t you?” Your heart skips a beat. Fuck. “Every night when you think I’m asleep. So go ahead now,” Kamo face is straight, no taste of humour or anger in it. “Read my thoughts.”

There’s no point hiding it now. You’re struck seeing your situations so plainly: Noritoshi Kamo is the heir of the opulent and influential Kamo Clan. You are his wife and nothing more. He has the power to decide whether your cursed technique usage goes punished or praised. He has the power to ruin your life. Right when you were forming buds of friendship, you are starkly reminded of the difference between your stations.

And you can’t not be you. “I don’t take commands.” I’m fucking this up so bad. “You might be angry about the whole Kanato thing, but don’t burden me with your issues. I don’t take commands.” Shit. I’m done for. I’m not going to Jujutsu High, am I?

Time extends infinitely as you await the judge to pronounce your sentence.

But perhaps... perhaps you don't understand Kamo, not even after all the times you've read his mind through and through, because he simply nods. Nothing more. “A request then?” He makes an effort, you can tell, to soften his voice.

You stand still like a statue. All he was trying was to give some space to practise your cursed technique; he just ended up pushing you back into your shell. Or rather a fortress, where you, a scared little child, hoard other people’s secrets, to be used against them when the time comes-- the only defence you have. And to think that he was actually doing so well trying to get you to come out of there.

How do I fix this? “Do you want to go out for ice-cream?”

“Out?” You're shocked. You’re usually not allowed to leave the Kamo estate; the last time you did was maybe... 2 years ago? You don’t even remember.

“It’ll be my treat, don’t worry. No one will say anything.”

Can he actually do that? Can he convince the elders to let me out? You’re a threat to society, you’ve internalised that by this point. Isn’t it wrong for you to go out?

—---

“I love going out! This is AMAZING!” You can’t stop taking pictures of everything- everyone! So many people! So many things to see! The smell of roasting dalgona, the lanterns hanging from cables overhead, the latest streetwear-clad bikers smoking, the businessman walking briskly, the mother scolding her children! Aeon Mall, Porta, Kyoto Station Building– you’re going through all of them, making the most out of your day out!

“You’ll be able to go out whenever you want when you’re in Jujutsu High.” Kamo, carrying your many shopping bags, reminds you calmly. You seem to have gotten over prior spat.

“Take a picture of me here!” “I want to try double-decker donuts!” “Let’s get these Prada shawls, please, Noritoshi-san!”

She’s so lucky she was born into money. Noritoshi enjoys seeing you this ecstatically happy. It’s just the two of you, Kamo doesn’t need any bodyguards or handlers. As you sit for an Italian dinner, he decides that it’s okay to breach your previous topic.

“yn, I’m very curious–”

“Do you think those shoes that guy’s wearing are ugly? 'Cuz I think they’re Danny DeVito level ugly.”

“– Gossiping isn’t good. As I was saying, I really want to know how your powers work, yn. Would you be okay telling me?”

You laugh at him, cheeks full of penne alfredo. “I don’t know much either, frankly. I wasn’t allowed to look into it, you know. Besides, if you’re looking for a method to block it, give up. Not even Gojo Satoru could do that.”

Kamo’s eyes are keen. “Why not?”

“Because it works on photons of light. Gojo’s Infinity works on matter, not light, because otherwise he’d be invisible. Distillation can speed up light in a very specific way so that I can 'see' glimpses of the past... understand the story, in a way. Anything I perceive with my eyes, I can Distil. Everything I can see, I know.” You say. "I kept getting headaches because it was just too much information at once, so I made a Binding Vow. I have to ask a very specific question so that I get a very specific answer, but in exchange I get to know answers for at least 50 years back in the past."

To think this talent was to be wasted. “You’re incredible.” I’ll protect her. I’ll have to.

That also reminds him. “So all those times you Distilled me at night, you didn't ask if was sleeping?"

You smile sheepishly, "I was sure that you were."

He returns your smile. A rare moment. "So you know me, then?”

“Thoroughly.”

“Then you know that I am not your enemy.”

“I reckon.”

“And that I am trustworthy.”

You laugh. He might be as trustworthy as the sun, but you don’t know how to trust others. Still- "I'm sorry for Distilling you when you were asleep."

"I'd rather you ask me before you do that the next time. It's more polite." He uses the toasted bread to scoop up some pasta sauce. You copy him. "I see that there's no point keeping secrets from you?"

"Absolutely none."

"Then it's my right that you keep none from me, either."

Eh? He's not wrong but... He's asking you to trust him. Like friends do. Like married couples do. For all that he is, Noritoshi Kamo has no leverage in front of his wife: you alone decide how much you want to reveal to him.

"Alright, then. Whatever you ask me, I'll answer you honestly, as long as it is okay to do so." You promise. Kamo wipes a smidge of sauce off your cheek with a tissue. His way of saying, "Thank you."

“Noritoshi-san, teach me to spar properly. I don’t want to appear so weak among my classmates.”

“Is that a command?” You’re about to excuse yourself when you notice that he’s smiling. Holy fuck, he’s making a joke??

“Yes, Lord Kamo.” You play along.

“As you wish, Lady Kamo.”

#9 : The Lady Kamo

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cressidagrey · 6 months ago

Text

Something good and right and real - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder, Discussion of Mental Illness

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Of all the things that finally gave Oriana the spark that she needed to figure out the problem that she had with Azriel’s fighting leathers…well, nobody would have thought that would be a children’s bedtime story.

But it was.

She read about dragons and the power of love…and came out of it with her brain literally smoking with ideas.

Chainmail. Human Knights wore chainmail.

She didn’t for one moment think that that was going to work for Azriel.

But the dragons made her think of scales and suddenly it was three days later, Azriel returning from a mission from the cauldron only knew and her forge was absolutely covered in bits of adamantium.

And Oriana’s hair was standing in every which direction.

“You look like you had a productive time,” Azriel quipped and she looked at him bright-eyed and excited. But she wasn’t going to tell him a single word.

She had even sworn his shadows to secrecy. She thought they were more amused by her request than anything, but after she had explained what she was planning, they were happy to agree.

She was going to finish this…and it was going to be perfect.

“Oh, I was,” she agreed immediately. “But please, take me out for the rest of the day, because I think otherwise I may become one with the forge.”

She wasn’t even joking. She should really leave it one of these days.

“We don’t want that,” Azriel agreed, a grin playing on his far too handsome features as he leaned down to press a kiss against her unresisting lips.

She happily twirled her arms around his neck as she kissed him.

“I came to kidnap you,” he said softly and she grinned at him.

“Is it kidnapping if I come willingly?” she wondered. He shrugged.

“I have no clue,” he admitted.

“Knife work?” she asked him and he shook his head.

“No, but we’ll be…near the clearing,” he said. “It’s getting warmer. So I thought…Picnic?” he asked her and her smile filled her whole face.

She had learned early on that while Azriel didn’t often talk about his feelings…they were there in every single action in all the time he made sure to spend with her. He was the one who got her flowers just because and who brought her chocolate from her favourite shop, even when she had never mentioned it to him. She was the one who just left things in his path, waiting for him to find them, not wanting to overwhelm him.

It worked for the two of them. But still, the thought that even when he had just come back home, he had come back straight to her, but still managed to bring along a beaten-up knapsack filled with food and drink…well that was adorable.

They took the usual flight route, the wings beating behind his back rhythmically and Oriana yearned for a moment when the opportunity would arise and she could reach out to touch them.

Still, as he touched down it wasn’t the usual clearing they used whenever he taught her how to try and stab somebody with that knife of hers.

He hit the ground but didn’t put her down as he carried her forward.

She felt the moment they passed the ward boundary. “Yours?” she asked and he nodded.

“Mine,” he agreed. And then, suddenly, they left the forest behind them and she stared at the perfect mountain lake that stretched just feet away from them.

Azriel let her down gently and her feet hit the floor as she felt the sunlight kiss her skin. It was getting warmer in Velaris, Spring having truly arrived, Sumer just coming around the corner.

And for just a single moment, she couldn’t quite believe the beauty before herself. This was…gorgeous.

The water was nearly azure blue, the sun happily shining down onto their little slice of paradise.

It was all there. Perfect.

“I love it,” she breathed, turning around and catching Azriel watching her, a shy smile playing around his lips.

“Good place?” Azriel asked her, quietly.

“Are you kidding? It’s the best!” she exclaimed, already crouching down so that she could remove the shoes she wore. She stared across the lake as she fussed with her laces, finally getting rid of them. She was so going to put her feet in the water.

Only then, she caught the cabin that had been built on the other side of the lake. Or maybe a cottage was more fitting. A fairy tale cottage. Built out of grey stone, overlooking the lake. Ivy growing along it, a bright blue door…

She froze.

If there was a house there…then how had Azriel warded it against…

“That’s yours,” she said softly, realisation setting in. “The house is yours, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“Yes,” Azriel agreed, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I should have known that you were going to figure it out,” he teased her softly.

She rightened and then turned to watch him watch her, a near-bashful smile on her face.

He was sharing that with her. Ever since he had told her how he had gotten the scars a week or so prior…ever since then he had started opening up to her about more of his past. Sometimes inconsequential things, but she still hoared all of them like precious gemstones.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she finally said. She couldn’t even imagine how much that had taken from him, because he seemed to be so fiercely private and guarded about so many things.

“It’s you,” he said like that made that all…easy.

Oriana smiled.

And then she turned back around and waded into the water without even waiting for anything else.

“I wouldn’t… suggest that,” Azriel started to warn her, but she ignored it.

The pebbles were comfortable under her feet, the water icy. “Why? Don’t you like the cold?” Oriana asked him with a laugh, tugging her skirts up higher so that they wouldn’t get wet.

“This is icy,” Azriel said, sounding worried on her behalf, but she just grinned at him.

“I was born in the mountain. You are aware that we bathe in the hot springs and with clear spring water, all the time, right?” she asked him, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Communal bathing is even part of our culture,” she told him matter-of-factly. That didn’t stop Azriel from staring at her like she had just grown a second head.

“What, don’t act like you have never done that before,” she teased him. “You seriously want to tell me that Illyirans have nothing similar?” she teased him.

She was getting used to the water, still cool on her skin but no longer icy and she looked over the lake as she wondered if it was hot enough that she could get away with it…

“We…Illyrians have Birchins,” Azriel finally admitted. She cocked her head to the side. “We go in there to…sweat.”

“Is that something like steam chambers?” she wondered. She knew that. They had that in the mountains.

“Sounds similar,” Azriel agreed and she decided that she only lived once and as such she was going to take advantage of the beautiful water.

That was all she needed as she made that decision, stepping back to the shore only to start opening the ties at her back that kept her dress closed and then pulled it over her head.

“What…What are you doing?” Azriel asked, his voice sounding a mixture of hoarse and garbled. But that didn’t hide the sudden stab of arousal that she got through their bond as she pulled the dress over her head and dropped it to the ground next to her shoes.

“What does it look like?” Oriana wondered as she stepped out of her undergarments. “Taking a swim in your lake.”

Azriel made another sound like he was hurt or possibly dying. Oriana was far too amused to stop now. “You are welcome to join me, of course. If you want…”

And maybe, just maybe, a part of her was far too curious.

And then there was the fact that ever since she had taken off her necklace, he had been…hesitant with her. Not with talking with her, but with touching her, with pressing issues to her…they were always chaste and gentle, and a part of her was yearning for something more.

He didn’t answer. She was wading in the cold water, taking a deep breath when it was deep enough that she could start properly swimming.

“Unless I am hurting your delicate sensibilities?” Oriana teased him, biting her lip.

The growl that came from the shore in response made every hair on her body stand up in response. Her arousal was a sharp stab in her lower belly, the heat low and molten.

“Maybe it’s too cold for me,” Azriel’s voice came from the shore, low and dark but she listened to the sound of clothing being removed and she bit back a smile.

“You aren’t mated for me for nothing,” Oriana gave back with a soft snort.

She had fought for decades with her gifts until she knew that she had the kind of control over the fire within her that she wasn’t going to accidentally set anything on fire.

However, that also meant that there wasn’t much that she hadn’t tested to figure out the extent of her power. And so it was the work of nothing to let the water around her grow hot until it was hot enough to be steaming and bubbling and then let go of her power until it cooled down enough that it was still hot, but no longer boiling.

“They do say that Autumn Court Faes have fire in their blood,” she quipped.

“And here I thought that that was only about males,” Azriel said with some amusement, suddenly behind her, a broad hand curled itself possessively around her hip and she grinned like the cat that got the fish and the cream for dinner both.

“Oh, you know…We can’t have males have all the fun,” she teased him, even when warm lips suddenly pressed against her pulse point.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Oh, love, I think you are having plenty of fun. You enjoy teasing me, don’t you, you horrid mate,” he teased her. “Just starting to strip off all your clothing without nary a forewarning…”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. You are a male,” she gave back, but her voice was starting to sound surprisingly breathy and he pulled her against a broad chest, taking her weight.

“Of course, I enjoyed it,” Azriel whispered into her ear, making her shiver. She craned her head so she could kiss him properly, his lips pressing to hers.

She gasped against him, letting her hands slide over his shoulders, feeling the slick, damp skin underneath her hands, a spiderweb of scars covering them.

She pulled back and came eyes to eyes to his naked chest for the first time, the bronze skin seemingly glowing in the afternoon sun, only interrupted by intricate lines of black tattoos.

Oriana couldn’t help herself from reaching out to touch them, from sliding her fingertips over the skin that held them.

“What are these?” she asked Azriel curiously. Not Bargain marks, were they? They looked different.

“Illyrian warrior markings,” Azriel answered, his wings rustling behind him. “Luck and Glory in battle. We get them after the Blood Rite.”

He had mentioned that to Oriana in an offhand way a few days ago.

“They are beautiful,” Oriana said softly, his wings shifting once again, as she pulled her hand back. “Not as beautiful as your wings though,” she said with a grin.

They seemed to act without conscious thought of him, stretching out further, so that Oriana could see every inch of their massive expanse.

She swallowed.

Unwillingly, suddenly there were her sister’s words in her mind again.

She watched as the blush stole over his cheeks and her toes curled into the pebbles in the ground beneath her.

“Can I…May I touch them?” she breathed and he swallowed.

“Yes.”

Somehow this was different than the night she had spent sleeping beneath one of his wings, feeling the weight of it on top of her body. Now was the first time that she actually got to feel the soft, leathery texture underneath her fingertips, the veins that shot through them, the scars that pebbled against her fingertips.

She was so very gently as she touched him, not sure how…how much prefer to exert but she didn’t seem to…They trembled against her hands and she pulled back.

“Don’t…” Azriel pressed out hoarsely. “They are just…sensitive.”

Sensitive?

She took another deep breath, the scent of forest and cedar that surrounded him having grown musky and she could pick out the undercuttren t of arousal.

She was quite sure that she smelled no different.

“Are they?” she asked instead, fingertips going back to gently tracing the lines of veins, and then up until she reached the talon on the edge of it. She wrapped her hand around it.

Azriel reacted with a hiss.

“Yes. And unless you want me to have my way with you right now, you should let them go,” he told her hoarsely.

She let him go.

And then leaned up to press a kiss against his mouth, pressing her chest against his, feeling her nipples grow hard by the sudden touch.

He held still, even as his hands came up to cradle her face.

“Promises promises,” she sing-songed breathlessly, looking into hazel eyes that were so dark they were nearly black.

“I always keep my promises,” Azriel told her darkly, dipping down to kiss her again, hands slowly brushing down her back and now it was her turn to shiver.

“Do you?” She asked him breathlessly, for a moment forgetting what they were even talking about.

“I do,” he assured her. “I always do.”

And then he kissed her again, and all thoughts flew her brain because her whole world narrowed down to just Azriel.

Just Azriel and the touch of his skin against hers, his mouth on hers…the cool water of the lake.

It was his shudder that made her pull back, as she had realised that the water was too cold to stay there for much longer, even when she warmed it with nary a thought once again.

So out they went, with Azriel first, too much of a good male to sneak a peek…Oriana didn’t have that problem. She looked at her piece, taking in the broad shoulders, narrowing to a trim waist, the massive wings that were still flaring wide…the scars that dragged one right down his back and over his ass. It was quite a nice ass.

Nice legs as well. She shouldn’t be staring. She still did it.

She liked looking at him like that.

And she would kind of like to see the other side too.

She slipped back into her dress and sat primly down onto the picnic blanket Azriel had brought along, eating her fill of sandwiches and cookies and then promptly decided that other tactics were fine too, and laid her head on a strong thigh as she stared into the beautiful sky.

She sighed softly, closing her eyes, for once in her life utterly and irrevocably happy.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt that way before Azriel.

She picked up one of his hands, intertwining their fingers, one broad wing acting as her personal sun umbrella…

“I was thinking…” she started.

“Always dangerous,” Azriel quipped and she snorted.

“You are so right,” she agreed easily. “Still, I was thinking…if we properly accept this mating bond…do you want a ceremony?”

He was quiet for a moment and she opened his eyes to have him watch her, his eyes so soft, so wide…like he couldn’t possibly imagine that they were talking about this.

“Whatever you want,” his voice was hoarse as he said these words, picking up their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of hers.

“But I asked you,” she prodded gently.

“I really don’t care. Anyway, I get you is good in my book,” Azriel said softly. “But if you want a proper ceremony then we’ll do that.”

She smiled softly.

“I just want you,” Oriana assured him. “It’s about us. Not about anybody else.”

Besides, she had done the whole marriage thing once already. The proper way. With all the ceremonies. And look how that had ended.

So maybe this tie, when it was just about them…just the two of them, the way the Mother had intended…Without anybody else’s opinion weighing on them, because they were both adults and could do whatever they wanted for cauldron’s sake…that seemed nice.

“Though before we do that, I have some…requests,” Oriana finally said, fingers tightening around Azriel’s.

He hummed a question.

“I want you to meet my family,” she said quietly. “Eventually everybody, but we can start with Cyrus and Briony, and their younglings.”

At least then Azriel wouldn’t be a completely overwhelmed mess at the end of it. “You already met Cyrus so that should be easy. Just dinner, nothing fancy,” she assured him. “And a second thing: I’ll take you dancing at least once.”

“That’s all?” he asked her, sounding incredulously, after waiting for a moment.

“What did you expect I was gonna ask of you?” she asked with a snort. “That’s all. You’ll probably meet so,e friends of mine when we go dancing as well, but that’s all, I swear.”

“Alright,” he agreed with a shrug.

“Don’t be too enthusiastic,” Oriana said with a laugh. “Now is the time to tell me any requests you have, by the way.”

The last thing she expected was the words he blurted out next. “I want you to meet my mother.”

For a moment Oriana’s brain felt like it was freezing before it started working again. His mother?

“She’s still alive?” she blurted out, her eyes flying out and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I am sorry, it’s just…you never talk about her,” she hurried to add. “I just thought that…” She had died in some tragic way centuries ago and Azriel still grieved her and didn’t talk about her because of that?

Yeah, Oriana had thought that.

“No, she’s…alive,” Azriel said, but the way he said that last word made her…curious. He stared at everything but her. “She’s not… well ,” he finally said carefully.

“She’s…her mind fractured. Rhys has tried to…help her, but every time we try, we just make it worse,” Azriel explained quietly.

Oriana just swallowed.

She had heard of that happening before, of the kind of sickness that no healer could help with because it wasn’t an illness of the body but the mind.

And even mind-healers could not always save somebody once it had…gone down a road like that. If Azriel’s mother’s mind had truly fractured…then everything that made her herself…all of that was gone.

“So…I try to make her as comfortable as I can. She had a house in the Illyrian Steppes…It’s called Rosehall. I have a… friend that takes care of her. She’s half wraith and somehow that makes all the difference,” Azriel said softly. “She keeps her company. And tells me when she has a good day so I can go visit…”

Just imagining her own mother in such a state was making Oriana feel like somebody cleaved open her heart. And Azriel talked about this so softly, like this was just how it was and there was nothing he could do, to make it any better.

“When my mom has a good day, she recognises me. She’s not scared of me. I get to talk to her…even when she doesn’t answer. But she’s…there,” Azriel said, one corner of his mouth lifting up as he recounts that. “But they are getting rarer every year.

“If she has a bad day then…then she thinks I am my father,” he whispered, his voice dipping into self-loathing. “She’s terrified of me then.”

She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, other than sit up and embrace him as tightly as she could.

“And you think that me meeting her…that would be good?” Oriana finally asked hesitantly. “I don’t want to make it worse, Sweetling.”

“You can’t make it worse,” Azriel said softly. “Maybe it’s stupid but she’s the only…blood family I have.”

She understood that.

“Then I’ll be honoured to meet her.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“So when should we do it?” Oriana asked him, practical like always, still draped over his lap. He would gladly spend weeks just like that, breathing in the warm scent of fire and home.

“I’ll need a few weeks. I need to arrange for leave,” he said softly. He didn’t want to wait. Not when he still was terrified that she was going to change her mind.

But he needed to somehow figure out an explanation for Rhysand that was going to be accepted without too much fuss… and wasn’t the truth but also wasn’t a lie.

Something that made sense.

Azriel wondered if he could get away with simply asking for a break.

Would that be accepted? Or would that then be a whole other thing? He didn’t know.

“Ah, yes, the Mating Frenzy ,” Oriana commented, waggling her eyebrows.

He opened his mouth to respond to that and then closed it again with a resounding click.

Yes.

The Mating Frenzy .

Something he was suddenly realising he was utterly terrified of.

And Azriel also realised that he had no idea how to deal with that fear. He hadn’t even thought about it before.

Being with Oriana, being her mate… of course, he had thought about a time when maybe they would officially accept the bond.

But it had been somewhere in the depth of his heart, where he didn’t allow himself to go too often, in fear of being disappointed again.

He was still waiting for something to go wrong. He always would.

Would always be waiting for Oriana to wake up one morning and realise that she was mated to a monster.

But still, he had…longed for a moment when she would offer him something to eat and all he needed to do was to accept it. To accept that she loved him and that she wanted him and…

He had hoped for that moment.

He had kissed her, he had put his hands on soft skin and held her, he had thought about how it would be to do so many other things with her…dark at night when he was along with his thoughts…but the idea of…Everything was stripped away until only the base instincts were still there…that terrified him.

What if he hurt her? What if he was so rough with her that…that he did something that he would regret for the rest of his existence? What if he harmed her in a way that even the quick healing of faes could do nothing against?

Oriana’s sudden touch against his face startled him.

He could just stare at her as she cupped his cheek, somehow having moved so that she was straddling him and he hadn’t even noticed.

Whenever he was with her, his situational awareness suffered and he felt like a youngling again.

“You aren’t going to hurt me.”

Oriana said this like it wasn’t even something that she was worried about. Like it was crystal clear that this wasn’t going to happen.

She said it with all the trust in the world.

He wished he had only a tiny bit of her trust in him in himself.

“That’s what you are worried about, isn’t it?” She asked and he just about managed to nod. Oriana’s eyes were warm, the flames flickering comfortingly. He still couldn’t always put a finger on it, when she pulled the glamour up or when it decided to go away on its own. It was always surprising him. Though he loved the flames so much more than he ever had loved the flat blackness.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetling,” Oriana promised him soothingly.

“You don’t know that,” he forced out. She didn’t. He could do something horrible. He had done horrible things in his past and he would do horrible things in his future. He always would.

“I could…” he could do that. So easily. He may have taught her how to use a dagger, but if he really wanted to…she didn’t have any chance against him.

“Yeah, and I could set you on fire with a thought. Won't do that either,” she quipped.

He froze.

Right.

Sometimes he forgot how fucking magical Oriana was.

“I don’t doubt that you are physically stronger than me, Azriel, but I do think that I could probably shock you enough to stop you for at least a moment,” Oriana said quietly. “That’s all I would need.”

“And then there is also the fact that hurting me would go against every one of your instincts. I am your mate . You aren’t going to hurt me,” she pointed out reasonably. “We could…if it’s going to calm you, we could have sex before we even think about triggering the Mating Frenzy,” she suggested.

“No!” He blurted out. “Maybe it’s stupid but…” but he wanted…he wanted their first time to be when they were really mated when the Mating Bond needed to be consummated.

“It’s not stupid,” Oriana assured him fiercely. “This is about us . We do what we want. What anybody else wants doesn’t matter in this particular instance, Azriel.”

She was right. Oriana was right, as always. It didn’t matter.

But for Azriel who had spent a whole life doing what other people told him to do…that was… freedom .

It was their mating bond.

And if there was anything in his life, that was just his…then it would be that , wouldn’t it?

It would be the bond that Oriana and him would forge together. It would be just for the.

And so they should also…have it exactly like they wanted. In every way.

“I’ll offer you food and we accept the bond and then we’ll stay holed up for a week or so,” Oriana said with a smile. “And I look forward to that. Very, very much.”

He did too.

Not the sex.

Well, also the sex. Making her his in every way that he could get away with…that was appealing in so many different ways. But he was also looking forward to just having that much uninterrupted time with her, to do nothing but kiss that flawless, soft skin and touch her everywhere.

“Though I would suggest that we do not do that at my apartment. My neighbours are busybodies,” Oriana said with a grimace. “But you seem to have a perfectly fine house right here. Far away from anybody that could want to check on us,” she teased him.

He did.

He looked at the house that he had bought over a year ago.

Then it had just been to get away from Cassian and Nesta and the whole Elain thing.

He had never even thought that he would get to bring his mate there.

But now he did.

The house that he had bought for himself suddenly seemed like it could be a place for both of them.

A sanctuary.

Removed from their day-to-day lives. He would still work for Rhys. Oriana would still have her shop and tinker away in the forge.

But then, when it was the evening, they could both come home. They could cook in the kitchen or go swimming in the lake…or go to their bedroom and ignore everything that happened out of their little slice of peace.

They could make it a home. They could fill it with warmth and happiness and nobody could tell them differently.

“I…I want to show it to you,” Azriel finally said. “I want you to see it.” He wanted Oriana to www the house and think about their future there.

“I thought you would never ask,” Oriana said with a grin. He couldn’t help but grin as well, as he pulled her to her feet, as she pressed a peck onto his cheek.

He held her hand as they ambled along the shore, around the lake, towards the house.

“I bought it nearly a year ago,” Azriel explained softly. “I was staying with my brother but he was freshly mated and…I didn’t really get much sleep,” he said with a sigh.

That was an understatement.

Cassian and Nesta’s enthusiastic couplings had given him more than one sleepless night.

And if they were quiet then his head had been swirling with thought of Elain and Lucien. And then…well, he had his usual nightmares that he always tended to have, one way or another and all of it had just been horrible.

“They were loud?” Oriana wondered, sounding like she was biting back some amusement.

“Oh yes, they were,” Azriel said darkly, making her giggle. She had no idea how loud.

“You could just enchant your doors, you know,” she teased him.

Great.

“Thanks for that suggestion, oh mighty Enchantress,” he gave back sarcastically, making her laugh even louder.

“But them being loud was only half the problem,” he admitted. “I was happy for them. I really was but I also…I wanted what…I wanted what Cassian had. Both my brother found their mate just months apart. And there I was…I was…I told you about me being in love for 500 years? and then…the female that…”

“Chose her mate over you?” Oriana ended his sentence. “You did tell me about that.”

Yeah, he had. It was better to be honest with her about all of that. Better for her to hear all the bad parts.

“All of that happened and…I wasn’t in a good place,” he admitted, as they reached the house. He helped her up the stairs to the front door, painted a bright cobalt blue. “This was…This was the only place I had where it was just me. Nobody else. Nobody that wanted anything from me, nobody that expected me to be anything…it was just me.”

Just him and his shadows. But even they had left him in peace if he requested that. Like right now. They didn’t like the rays of sunshine that much.

Azriel had spent so much time sitting outside on the Veranda and watching the starry night sky. It had been…peaceful.

Just him, in his house, with only the sounds of the lake and the forest surrounding him.

“It was your safe space,” Oriana said softly and he nodded. It was.

He opened the door.

Oriran walked in and he wanted nothing more than to tattoo that view into his brain and never forget it.

She was here. His mate was there, right there with him.

He wanted to remember everything about that moment. From the damp hair that curled down her temples, to the way her eyes widened, how her braid swished behind her as she walked into the living room, the big windows at the back showing the lake in all its beauty.

Somehow, she just completed it.

“It’s beautiful,” Oriana breathed as she took in the light wood floors, the exposed beams at the ceiling, the view .

He saw it through her eyes now. He had fallen in love with the privacy and the place, where it was built. Near enough the center of Velaris but far enough outside that he had some peace and quiet.

“Where is the furniture?” Oriana suddenly wondered and he grimaced.

“There isn’t really any?”

She turned around, staring at him.

“…Azriel, where did you sleep?” she asked him.

“Mostly on the floor,” he admitted. The look of an utter nightmare on her face made him hurry to add: “I grew up in a cell, at least this has windows!”

Suddenly he just knew that was the wrong thing to say.

She opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again. “You know I have a lot of things to say about this but I somehow doubt that any of that is gonna change your opinion of why you shouldn’t sleep on the floor. So I am just going to say, that I am not going to sleep on the floor. I am a delicate princess and need my beauty sleep. In a proper bed. With at least 2 blankets and no less than 3 pillows.”

He blinked at that. It was true, her bed had absolutely been covered in pillows. He had just thought they were all decorative.

“What, do you think I don’t?” Oriana questioned him, raising one sharp eyebrow and he couldn’t help but grin.

“You are beautiful with or without your beauty sleep,” he promised her. “But if you want to absolutely cover our bed with blankets and pillows, you can do that too.”

“I’ll move in with you. If you get some furniture,” she told him pointedly, making him laugh and move so that he could hug her.

“I thought maybe you were just going to bring yours with you,” he told her, pressing a kiss against her hair as he tucked her against his side. They could just rebuild her apartment in the house. That would be fine. The house was bigger so they absolutely would have the space for it.

Even for all the weird metallic wall art she seemingly insisted on.

Though now he wondered if that had some meaning that he wasn’t aware of.

Oh well, he was sure that Oriana would educate him about all of it if he asked her. And he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything he could away with.

She poked him in the ribs. “Be honest, you just want the ugly blanket,” Oriana told him sagely, making him laugh out loud.

That absolutely horrible and ugly blanket that he adored, because she had made it and always wrapped him up in it after he came back from a mission. It was nearly as good as a hug from her.

Yeah, he loved that stupid blanket.

“It’s such a good blanket,” he agreed with her. The best.

“Still if this is gonna be our home…we’ll need stuff that we picked out together ,” Oriana said seriously. “Like a new couch or something.”

That sounded nice. Making that place theirs.

“I want table linens,” he mumbled in her hair, breathing in the scent of Jasmine that clung to her and she sounded utterly aghast.

“You want table linens ,” she repeated.

He just shrugged. He did. He really did. He wanted the stupidest, most domestic things that he could buy. Table Linens. In white. For their home, for their table, where they would eat dinner.

“Alright, you can pick out table linens,” Oriana told him graciously.

“I thought we should pick out stuff together,“ he complained half-heartedly. She rolled her eyes.

“Apparently you have opinions about table lines that I don’t even know about. You are on your own with that, Sweetling.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #A Court of Gold and Shadows #Something Good and and Right and Real

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