#I only have this one life so I might roll with everything as well
Text
teeny tiny
Pairing: Fairy reader x Azriel
Word Count: 2.6K
Summary: Azriel practices dwindling with you. (Just some fluff, mutual pining, pre bond snapping)
Wings Universe - read more from this couple here.
Azriel was watching you intently, a soft smile spread on his lips as his gaze danced across your expression. You were so passionate when you spoke about your work– your duty as a fairy.
A stark difference to how he felt about being an Illyrian.
But knowing you now for only a year, you had softened that perspective he had for his own heritage. Purely by how dedicated you were to yours, and how you lit up whenever you got to speak about it. Naturally, when getting to know the IC you had wanted to learn everything about the Illyrians, everything about the sisters, about Amren. Every finer detail.
That warm nature of yours, got even the most reserved opening themselves up to you. You were always genuinely interested too, mesmerised in the differences and similarities you found among your new friends. You would never scrimp on compliments either, lovely words rolling off your tongue in awe when Cassian had explained some Illyrian lore. You even went as far to admit that you’d always thought the dark winged fae looked very cool and fierce.
Azriel could vividly remember the heat filling your cheeks one evening at Rita’s when you’d admitted that, the faerie wine offering you some liquid courage. The comment had gone straight to Cassian’s head, prancing round Rita’s flexing in front of Nesta with a stealthy look, posing for her. “Look how fierce I look, Nes,” Nesta only rolled her eyes.
Azriel, though, had kept that comment. Tucked it away in the corner of his mind that he saved purely for you. A space filled with compliments from you, mentions of the things you loved, or observations of when he thought you looked especially beautiful– which truly was everyday. That corner of his mind was slowly growing by the day, bit by bit consuming him more and more. But he didn’t mind. For every new area you occupied in his consciousness, it replaced something dark instead. Those nightmares became few and far between after you entered his life, and he felt lighter, brighter.
A mark that could only be left by a radiant individual– you.
Ever since he’d met you, he was absolutely smitten. There was a magnetic charge between you both, that just couldn’t keep him away. He was like a moth to a light, fluttering so dangerously close that if he wasn’t careful he might just burn.
But he couldn’t stop. Despite the risk of it all, the risk of you burning his desires down. The obvious rejection you would undoubtedly give him if his feelings ever became known. So he settled for friendship, in fact savoured in it. He welcomed the friendly banter and familiar touches you so kindly offered him, but sometimes he dared to imagine…selfishly letting himself wonder, if he was to confess, would it really all go up in flames?…or would a warm glow await him instead.
Azriel began to look for the good parts of his own culture, an excuse to be able to share something with you. Little anecdotes of younger years with his brothers, the plants that grew in the harsh terrain of Ramiel, and what creatures may lurk in those mountains. Something Azriel noticed had piqued your interest.
He found you numerous times after that in the library with Nesta and Gwyn, looking through bestiaries and field journals. Your commitment to the land and its creatures never wavering. You had found old scriptures, thousands of years old, of rare creatures that roamed the Illyrian land. Feline-like beasts that apparently once lived among Illyrians as their companions, a familiar of sorts. You had practically barged into Azriel’s room one evening when you had unearthed this new information, kneeled on his bed sharing this new discovery word for word as you read the translated version Gwyn had given you.
“We’ll have to go look for them Az,” You had beamed, “It’ll be like an adventure, and well I could write it off as work too seeing as technically this falls under my jurisdiction.”
Azriel had never cared much for his own culture and myths, actually, had rather hated every aspect of it. But somehow, watching you find the beauty between the cracks changed something in him. Over time the dismal opinion he had of Illyrians and that part of himself, paired with the progression in the camps had made a slight difference.
Today though, today, you were sharing even more of your world.
“So I thought, you know with you already being able to winnow you would grasp this the easiest” you smiled at Az.
You had brought him to the edge of one of the night court meadows you usually worked at. Elain had asked to join you on a day's work for the spring season, once confessing she wished the cauldron had turned her into a fairy just like you. You had told her she was perfect the way she was, exactly who she was supposed to be, and promised her anyone of any kind was welcome in the meadows.
What was supposed to be a fun girls day with Elain had quickly snowballed into a field trip, the rest of the inner circle adamant they had to come too. But if your friends couldn’t master the art of dwindling then they would not be permitted in the meadows. Rhys and Feyre were fine, that unlimited pot of power they both possessed actually meant you’d caught them several months ago, rolling around in a flower enjoying some quality time together. You’re not sure who was more embarrassed, yourself or Feyre when Rhys clumsily fell out of a flower bell stark naked covered in pollen.
Before the others would be allowed to cross the threshold of the meadows you would need to teach them first.
“Dwindling is a lot like winnowing, how you move yourself to a different space. Or even how your shadows move you through space. It’s essentially the same, but it’s the space within you that’s moving…well smaller.”
Your hands had been spread wide in your explanation, bringing them closer together as if your movement were perfectly representing how it worked. Your brows furrowed though, as Azriel looked at you with a soft dazed expression. Almost glassy eyed with a dumb smile on his mouth.
“Are you even listening to me Az?” Your tone felt stern leaving your lips. A little huff following after, that got his shadows moving in a giddy manner. It wasn’t just Azriel that found you utterly adorable, but his shadows too had a hard time hiding how your expressions caused a stir in them.
How they basked in your laughter, grew agitated in your discomfort or selfishly, liked to relish in your charming pouts.
Azriel quickly shook his head, as if shaking himself from the daze you so often ensnared him in, “I’m always listening,” he promised.
You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth gently, pausing for a moment to take in his words. How it had struck a ripple through your body, that often created butterflies in your stomach. Glancing up through your lashes you took your friend in, his large strong frame towering over you, never in an intimidating way. No, his presence, however daunting to others, always filled you with safety and comfort you hadn’t felt around many. And there were those beautiful hazel eyes that often reminded you of the sunrise after you’d worked the night shift. Golden rays breaking through the midnight blanket, spilling hazel threads into petals of blue.
Maybe one day you would tell him how when the sky filled with ribbons of gold and sapphire, that you only thought of him.
Quickly you stopped yourself from falling into your own daze, remembering his passing words.
I’m always listening.
That he was. So attentive, so kind, you’re not sure what you did to deserve the friendship of the Shadowsinger. You continued on, brushing over how genuine his words sounded. Rummaging around in your bag you pulled out a pouch of fairy dust.
“This amplifies your power, makes it easier to shrink. Should also help with the nausea,” you muttered, now choosing to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you up.
It was getting increasingly hard to disregard the effect the Shadowsinger had on you. He was so beautiful, so pretty– in that rugged Illyrian way. And he was very thoughtful too, and there was the way he said things to you sometimes that made it hard not to assume it meant more. Every word felt like a whispered kiss or unspoken promise, that you found yourself at times hoping, and daydreaming that perhaps it did mean something deeper.
Sprinkling the dust over Azriel, his nose scrunched a little at the scent. So familiar, he realised it reminded him of you. That lingering scent of fairy dust was always on you, mixed with vanilla and hints of honey, an underlying breeze of peonies. Your scent alone was enough to enchant him, enough to know he would be dreaming of you again tonight. His consciousness would slip him into a blissful haze of what it would be like to envelope himself in the crook of your neck and laze in your aroma.
Gently you took his hands into yours, his ragged hands engulfing your own.
Azriel couldn’t help notice the stark contrast. How perfect and soft you were, delicate and light. He was rough and weathered around the edges, hardened by war and conflict. A gentle squeeze from you pulled him from his thoughts, realising how close you were now, he would only have to lean down slightly to bridge the gap between you. So close he could press his lips to top of your head and–
As if brushing that thought from his mind, his shadows moved towards you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, while the other tendrils wove through the air in between you both like a dance.
“Are you ready Az? Remember everything I taught you?”
He nodded.
Channelling his power in the technique you had shown him, his eyes fluttered shut. Honing in on the warmth of your hands and the faint sound of the breeze. His siphons simmered a glow as vibrations of power and space moved over the sharp lines and angles of his body, retracting and restricting the space within.
The air sounded different all of a sudden.
Vibrations growing louder, rustles becoming more powerful. Slowly Azriel opened his eyes, looking down at you, standing as you were before. He questioned if he’d even managed to do it, but as he glanced up he saw the tall green vertebrae of the grass tower above. The strands gently swaying in the wind, allowing the morning sun to filter through and cast viridescent shadows across the earth.
He had done it. He had dwindled.
The air was filled with a symphony of sounds, the song of crickets and the gentle rustling of the grass in the wind. Butterflies flitted by, leaving a gentle gust of wind in their wake. They were larger than him now, and he could vividly see the intricate designs and colours that lay on their wings.
“Az? Azriel are you okay? How do you feel?”
He hadn’t even realised you were talking, not until your hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, as you looked up to him in concern.
“I feel fine,” he replied, finally remembering to take a breath as your touch left him.
“No nausea? You looked a little peaky for a moment, I was worried,”
Your remaining hand had slipped from his gentle grip, a simmer in his chest wishing it would remain. But Azriel unfurled his wings, stretching the dark membranes out, distributing his weight onto either feet to check his balance.
“Okay…” You smiled then, “This went better than I thought, you know it’s Cassian I’m most worried about. I just have a feeling he’ll sneeze himself into a giant or something,”
“Wait, is that possible?”
“No, or at least I don’t think so. But somehow I could see it happening with Cass,” You laughed. The angelic waves of your laughter pulled up the corners of his lips as he let out a chuckle.
Oh Azriel could stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you, no one else in sight for miles.The sun basking it’s glow upon you both. Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence before you closed your eyes, head tilting up towards the sun as the rays washed over your face.
Azriel thanked the Mother again for the blessings he had received since knowing you, because this moment right here– to be with you was surely one.
“Y/n…” Azriel couldn’t help breathe your name out, it barely a whisper as words he kept tucked in that corner of his mind seemed to pile into his mouth.
Gently your eyes fluttered open, your expression turning to him with a light hum in question. But before he could even untangle the mess of confessions on his tongue, a shadow loomed above.
With a slight jump, you hastily stepped back, colliding into the tough warm frame of the Shadowsinger, craning your neck up to see what had cast such a darkness.
A shadow– Azriel’s shadow.
The smokey tendril seemed to loom over you both inquisitively. It’s movements speaking of a curiosity to how its master was now so tiny.
“There’s always one,” Azriel grumbled, his hand tenderly moving to the small of your back for a moment as he stepped to your side.
Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, his expression boring on unimpressed as he glanced up at the disobedient wisp.
“You’ve got no excuse,” Azriel chastised, referring to the other shadows that had obediently followed an appropriate size to him after dwindling.
The shadow slumped a little in response, eliciting a small gasp from you at how utterly adorable you found it. As if remembering you were there the shadow turned it’s attention. Azriel’s earlier command to resize itself held no authority but it quickly slinked itself slightly smaller for you. It’s size resembled something of Azriel’s shape as it twirled around you making the layers of your dress flutter up in the wind.
“Oh my…” Your cheeks heated a rosy hue as you attempted to hold your dress down in the gust of air.
“Sorry about that,” Azriel heaved, his patience growing thin as he tried to hide his slight embarrassment at his unruly shadow.
“It’s quite alright Azriel,” you reassured him with a light chuckle, the smile on your lips easing him. The use of his full name, raising goosebumps on his skin.
It wasn’t the only thing your smile eased, the shadow, as if melting under you, softened like honey. Oozing back behind Azriel’s wings in a dazed infatuation.
“Come,” you took Azriel’s hand in yours. Pulling him gently through the blades of green. “You should settle in this size for a while, make sure everything feels okay before we return,”
Azriel watched your fingers interlock with his, the smaller wisps of his shadows winding around your joined hands. Whispering words to one another that he couldn’t hear.
He swallowed hard, once, twice taking in the view before him. Your usual pink dress dipping to the small of your back, taut flawless skin kissed under the sun as you pulled him through the green. No wings on show, though.
He wondered when you would share that part of you…if ever.
Azriel would never ask, but he hoped one day you trusted him enough.
That he would be so lucky. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, sending him a soft smile that seemed to bury itself deep into his chest. He pondered, if for only a moment, that perhaps he was lucky.
a/n: just a little instalment from your favourite couple! <3 What else do you want to see from them?? (Other than flower sex , I promise this is coming👀)
forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan
Wings tags: @minaethrym
#azriel x reader#acotar#wings universe#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#angst#acotar series#azriel shadowsinger#fairy x azriel#azriel x fairy#fairy reader x azriel
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omg qween goddess supreme hedwig221b can you please, pretty please rec me some regency and/or historical sterek 🥹
hoping you have a good day/night (idk your timezone lol)
Hi, love! You know me so well... historical aus, my beloved 💜
When All the Pieces Fit by NARKOTIKA
"Does he even realize? With the cooking and cleaning andandand—now this fucking baby?" Isaac fumes.
Said baby waves its fist in the air, and Stiles bends to haul him onto a hip. The baby babbles something and Stiles nods his head with complete seriousness, as if everything out of its mouth is perfectly sensible and coherent. Then the kid starts mouthing at Stiles' nipple through his dress and everyone goes dead silent.
"I'm going to wife him so hard," Ethan announces, and they all break out into argument over who has the best chance at mating the boy in the river.
Elskende by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)
Stiles is an omega concubine, kept sequestered away in the city of Beacon Hills, waiting for his lord Gerard Argent when the Wulver take the city and the alpha takes the omega.
Pride and Place by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)
Derek Hale, Earl of Osterbrook, has inherited, following the death of Lord Montfort, a run down house in Yorkshire he neither needs nor wants, convinced his staff are robbing him, and with the mystery of a missing ward, he manages to get himself talked into a ridiculous bet, that he cannot pass as a steward until Midwinter, nearly two months away. So can he maintain the charade? Find the missing child? and manage to turn the shambles of a house around, or will he give up and let Peter take the thousand pounds he bet.
A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous
He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend.
In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better.
~*~
Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.
Meant to be One by sunhazeheart
His nerves felt like a live wire was running hot beneath his skin, hands fidgeting with the silken material of his robe. If he had the concentration to spare, he might had worried about tearing it.
It was all he could do to sit there at the vanity, eyes squeezed shut, and try to give in the constricting pressure around his chest that said that he was about to fall into a panic attack.
Breath in. Breath out. His own heartbeat rushed in his ears.
Being mated to the reclusive king with a frightening reputation to his name, bundled away from his home and father, and then surrounded by underwhelmingly distant faces hiding secrets was not how Stiles Stilinski imagine spending his life soon after turning eighteen. He can only remind himself that it is for the good of his people, both old and newly acquired. But, perhaps first assumptions are made too hastily and a fated match can be made, even surrounded by threats of war, revenge and death’s waiting embrace.
The Wolf Lord by mikkimouse
"You never know," Lydia said. "Perhaps the Wolf Lord will ask you to dance tonight."
Stiles scoffed. "Oh, yes, of course he will. And then he'll transform into a giant black wolf and whisk me away to his estate to live happily ever after." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "Actually, I rather hope he does ask me to dance. I can tell him how ridiculous these masquerades are."
To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic
Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.
Where the Shadow Ends by Green
Derek goes undercover to Delphi to figure out what's wrong with the oracle. He doesn't mean to fall in love.
The Hills Call
Five years ago, Prince Derek of the Hale Empire had fallen for the son of a Baron, Genim of Stilinski. His mother had not approved, and after some time imprisoned Genim escaped to the Dukedom of the Shore, where he was taken in by Duke Christopher and Lady Allison. Now, Prince Derek is on his deathbed from a poisoning and it is up to Genim, now called Stiles, to nurse him back to health. Wary of the Hale Empire, Stiles returns with their young son to see if he can heal Derek of his illness and escape the threats he still feels from the Empress herself.
The Light in the Woods by DiscontentedWinter
To honour a treaty with the people of a strange land, Derek Hale, prince of the kingdom of Triskelion, has to marry Stiles.
I encourage you heavily to go through the works of Dexterous_Sinistrous and DarkAthena (seraphim_grace), these two are my crushes and I am in awe of their work, it's so good. I could genuinely sit here and list dozens of their fics - I already did list some of my most beloved fics of theirs...
#sterek#sterek fic#stiles x derek#sterek fanfic#eternal sterek#stiles stilinski#derek hale#derek x stiles#sterek fanfiction#sterek fic rec#i also didn't check how many of these are abo#probably a lot lol#idc i love it#genuinely like i went through my saved historical fics#and the majority was dexterous and DarkAthena
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Azris Week 2024 Master List
I knew I wanted to participate in @azrisweek this year but I think I went nuts. Tried to make sure I planned only one shots but a couple of things will be WIP. I have also decided that I hate everything I have ever written but you’re getting it anyway 🤣
Going through final edits the next couple days. Here's a rundown….
Ps… I’m the worst summarizer EVER…
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Day 2: Familiars || Sing For Me
14k words READ ON AO3
Elain is nice, quiet and easy to be around. Azriel and his shadows find solace in her company. When her powers as seer become evident however, Azriel is forced to reckon with a familiar part of his past that is about to take on a whole new meaning.
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Day 3: Contact || Between Us
9k words READ ON AO3
Physics and the Immortality of the Soul . The most ridiculous notion Azriel could have picked to build his career around. He had spent half a lifetime tasking himself with impossible questions which very few people took seriously. A strange nostalgia for things he didn’t understand manifested after a childhood accident. This set his life on a path that one day leads him to the front doors of a strange library full of precious and one of a kind books and an even stranger connection to someone completely unexpected. One of which might finally give him the answers he was seeking.
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Day 4: Free Day || Just for Tonight
9k words READ ON AO3
New High Lords are extremely vulnerable. It’s a well known secret that as the new magic enters their bodies they have no more protection than a newborn. When Eris finds himself forced to take the throne, becoming completely helpless, he goes to the one place, and the one person he thinks may just save him.
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Day 5: Slice of Life || The Trees Told Me About You
8k words READ ON AO3
A few months after their mating frenzy “activities” in the dirt of the Autumn Court. High Lord Eris finds himself drawn to the very woods he and his mate had shamelessly rolled around in.
What he finds there shapes their lives forever.
This can be read independently but if you want additional context and did not read Kerosene, you can read the first half of this chapter
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Day 6: Changes || When Even Moonlight Burns
Chapters 1 & 2 (WIP) || 10k words READ ON AO3
The long list of things Eris had found to be grateful for over the years, not so surprisingly, didn't exactly feature a quiet, unassuming existence. The thrill in what he was, demanded pride and exhibition, and gods was he good at playing that game. Well, he had been good at it. Now, as much as he loathed to admit it, there was an odd satisfaction to be found in the simplicity he had agreed to. Unfortunately, as Eris quickly finds out you can't always have the brutes you want... and eat them too.
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Day 7: Solstice || What we Deserve
Chapters 1 & 2 (WIP) || 13k words READ ON AO3
Once upon a time, Eris thought that he and Azriel could be mates whose bond just hadn’t settled yet. It didn’t make sense for him to be so drawn to the male when they were at odds in every other way. It had to be the Mother, had to be fate. Now he knew for sure, it had been none of those things, only simple, stupid want.
What happens when Azriel finally finds his mate but it isn't the the male he is already in love with?
If anyone would like to be tagged, please just ask! <3
Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd
#azris#azris fanfiction#acotar fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x eris#azris supremacy#acotar#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris vandaddy#azriel acotar#azris angst#pro azris#eris angst#azriel angst#eris smut#azriel smut#azrisweek2024
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You Should Fear What You Already Know
7.10 Spec / T+ / 1k / Author Chose Not To Use Warnings
Buck’s always hated hospitals. The sickly smell of bleach and illness, the squeaky floors and buzzing fluorescent lights, the fact that he could never tell which was worse; being the victim or the victim’s family. He thinks he’s made up his mind about that last one today.
Sitting by Bobby’s hospital bed, Buck’s mind keeps getting stuck on how small he looks, how young. Objectively he knows Bobby’s not old, per se, but he’s always seemed so solid, so sure of himself and his place in this world. Like steel, or concrete.
Unyielding.
But Buck knows what repeated application of stress can do to steel, to concrete, to strong men. He’s seen it first hand; never needed to see it again.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says, taking Bobby’s pale, fragile hand in his own. It’s warm to the touch, calloused like Buck’s own, but smaller, and that feels wrong. Nothing about Bobby should be smaller than Buck. “Every coma is different, you know? But I’m gonna believe you can until proven otherwise.”
Chim hadn’t heard anything. Buck had heard some things; not everything. But Bobby’s heart stopped, and Buck’s heart stopped, and maybe that’s the common denominator, the link between them. It’s a little hope, but it’s the only one he’s got.
“You- you said the other day, after I made lunch, that your work here is done. And at the time I- I was excited ‘cause I really tried, you know?
“I put everything into that meal, just like you do, and it must have worked. You looked so happy, after just one bite. And I was so proud of myself-“ Buck sniffs, wipes at his face with the back of his hand. “I was proud, ‘cause I’d impressed you.
“But I’ve changed my mind. You’re not, okay? Your work can’t be done, Bobby, ‘cause I made your lasagne for Tommy today and I don’t know what happened but the sauce, it was too thin, you know? I need you to show me again.”
Buck squeezes his hand again, then relaxes it. The last thing Bobby needs is a bruised hand if… when he wakes up.
“I know you can hear me, okay? Because I heard you. After the lightning, in my coma dream. I heard you praying for me and- and I came back to you. So now it’s your turn, Bobby. I’ve seen what a world without you looks like and I can’t go back there. I won’t.”
Bobby’s heart monitor continues to beep, steady as a funeral march, not a stutter in its pace to indicate he’s heard anything Buck’s said. The low wheeze of the vent accompanies it, a nightmarish harmony. Buck wants to wake up.
He wants to wake up and see Bobby, whole and well and smiling and alive. But Buck is awake and Bobby might never be again and it’s the most unimaginable pain he’s ever felt.
Worse than the radiation scare in the tunnel - at least then Buck could talk to Bobby. Could wave off his concerns with gentle - and not so gentle - words. Could walk and talk and make them breakfast and smile.
Could call Buck overprotective with an eye roll, and a warm hand on his shoulder.
“I lied to you, then,” Buck admits between clenched teeth. “You weren’t the same, in my coma dream. You- you were dead.” He whispers the word, like speaking it aloud could invite the possibility of it into the room. “You were dead, because you relapsed.
And the team never noticed how bad it was getting, because I wasn’t there to provoke you, I guess. After the plane went down.”
Buck laughs humorlessly as he remembers how even in his own head, the thought of Bobby not being there nearly killed him too.
“I think my brain might have over-inflated my importance in your life, honestly, but it- it devastated me. And I still- I can’t-“ The tears come rushing back from somewhere so deep, so dark that Buck’s not sure they’ll ever stop once they spill. “I won’t live without you, okay? You know better than anyone how stubborn I am, Bobby. So you better come back to us.
“Your work here’s not done, and it’s never going to be done. Athena needs her husband. The 118 needs their captain. May and Harry need their dad, and I-“
That’s the thing, isn’t it? That precious, unspoken line they’ve never crossed.
Because no one’s ever cared for him like Bobby has. No one’s worried about him, and protected him, and loved him with exasperation and anger and fear and joy so big and bold that Buck’s always been scared to look at it too close, let alone reach out and claim it.
Now he might be too late.
But if there’s any part of Bobby that can hear him through the haze, then Buck’s going to be brave, gonna take the chance. He’d give all his blood, his plasma, his marrow. Any organ they could wrench from him he’d give to Bobby in a heartbeat, in the space between them.
Seems only fair to give him the title that goes with it.
“I need my dad, too. So, wherever you are, come back?” Please?”
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Title is from Plastic Flowers by The Front Bottoms, don’t listen to it unless you wanna cry
I’ll post it to Ao3 later once I have it edited ✌️
#911 spec fic#911 spoilers#evan buckley#bobby nash#911 abc#911#author is choosing Not to include warnings but uhhh dm me if you wanna check anything specific that’s no problem:)#my fic
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trouble almost all my life chapter seven teaser.
TEASER UNDER THE CUT
“Practice run, I see,” Spencer said with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and watching her scramble to set the ball back on the marker, “So out of interest, how many of these practice runs are you getting,”
“Just the one,” She said, hitting the plastic globe again, though this time it barely made it half way up the incline before it rolled right back down again, “Two, I get two. This one’s the real one, starting now,”
“The real one? So this one’s really the one that counts, right?” He teased, and she glared thinly at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer, a look of the cat that got the cream smeared all across his face as he took a stance behind her, wrapping his arms around hers with the oldest trick in the book, “Why don’t you let your dearest husband help you out, huh?”
“I have a masters and half a degree in medicine, I think I know what I’m doing,” She hummed, though the feeling of his hands resting over hers soone quietened down whatever fire was stoked in her belly from losing their game. Spencer was so close she could feel him breathing down her neck, feel his chest on her shoulder blades, and worst and most heinous of all, feel his crotch pressing against her tailbone.
“Alright, alright. Just humour me,” He murmured, a new found confidence in him that he only seemed to get whenever they were playing the part of being other people. He gave her a salacious lick of his lips, smiling at her with a pink parted mouth, his eyes dark in this light like he knew what she was thinking as well, and he couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty when he flirted with her a little. He’d always thought that when she was stunned into that quiet tone, the mousy look she got on her face was rather cute.
His hands engulfed hers with a mesh of pornographic veins and sadistically handsome knuckles, his mouth at her ear as they lined up the shot together.
It was as if a murmuration of birds had flocked together in her chest, dipping and diving and creating all manner of shapes in her stomach as she felt it flip three or four times, his body so entirely pressed against hers she never wanted to move a muscle. She’d had the odd thought pop into her head about what sex with Spencer Reid might feel like, and yet all she could think about in the haze of the putter and fake grass beneath their feet was how delicious he felt pressing into her like that.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as she looked forward again, and she could have sworn she held back a moan when he breathed out down her spine.
—
this is a little teaser for the 15k chapter that is on its way as an apology for delaying it so many times. My mom has broken her nose so I’m really trying to help her out since it’s just the two of us, and as much as I try to cram writing into my days, I’m struggling to manage everything at once so take this as a sign that a big chapter is on its way!!
hope you guys can forgive <3
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Bloodbang Chronicles - Chapter 5
Chapter summary: unexpected visitors bring ill tidings and vampire family drama. Also a wedding?! And alright, alright, we're on chapter 5, have a smidgen of smut as well.
Chapter word count: approx. 5,000
Chapter CW: Sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll reckless waltzing, poor babysitting practices, death mention (not related to babysitting)
Series masterlist | AO3 | Overall masterlist
Series summary:
Five years have passed since the confrontation with the Netherbrain. Astarion and his warlock lover, Asmodea, are living it up in Baldur’s Gate, running a cabaret. Their life of decadence and debauchery seems idyllic, until Asmodea’s patron disrupts it with a proposal. One that seems too good to be true. One they cannot refuse.
Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character
Genre: Humor / adventure / smut
Rating: Explicit
Asmodea regarded the toddler with caution, the way one might an unpredictable wild animal that wandered, by chance, into a human dwelling, and began creating a chaotic disturbance with its mere presence - the feeling was akin to walking into a kitchen to find a raccoon on the counter.
After some screaming (done by the child), a wooden prop dagger was surrendered to it. The toddler alternated using it as a rattle and a chew toy. Were kids this young supposed to have teeth..? Asmodea wasn’t sure. Then again, she wasn’t great at determining children’s ages. It was somewhere past the ‘potato’ stage, but hadn’t yet reached the ‘persistent yet incoherent chattering’ phase of its development.
Something new must have caught the little girl’s interest, as she dropped the fake knife and began crawling up the sitting room’s wall.
When did they begin doing that? Perhaps at around a year of age..?
Her father, Ivar, had clearly witnessed the stunt before and was unfazed by it.
Astarion, on the other hand, was very much fazed, and regarded the girl with apprehension.
“I can’t sense her,” he remarked, furrowing his brows. “My eyes tell me she’s there, but everything else is telling me my eyes are lying... It’s unnatural!”
“You’re one to speak,” Ivar chuckled at Astarion’s words. “But yes… You get used to it.”
“In all honesty, I’d rather not,” grumbled Astarion.
Ivar had been one of the very last victims delivered to Cazador. Not one of Astarion’s catches - he had actually been mugged, stabbed and left to die in the streets of the city, only to be hauled back to the mansion by Dalyria. For ‘healing’, she told him. A mere few days later, he found himself a free vampire. His wife accepted the unwitting detour as a reasonable explanation for his returning home late. She even joined him in his exodus to the Underdark with the other spawn.
Being among the minority of the spawn that still had full control of their wits on regaining their freedom, and indeed one of those who had tried to help shepherd the more crazed spawn, Ivar quickly secured a spot at the top of the hierarchy in Leon’s coven. He had met with Astarion before leaving, and stayed in sporadic correspondence with him.
To see him hastily fleeing north like some kind of refugee was a surprise. ‘Everything’s going to shit in the Underdark’ was his brief explanation.
Six covens had formed, each run by one of Cazador’s immediate spawn. ‘The Seven’, they were called, albeit Astarion, the seventh, had so far refused to take part. A Council was established, formally, but it did little but serve as a means for the ‘Seven’ to spy on and attempt to manipulate one another.
As for the common, lesser spawn…
Between attacks by the druergar, drow, illithids (as well as anyone else who did not fancy having vampires for neighbours), the food shortages, and the infighting between and within the covens themselves, the Underdark had turned out to be a ruthless dog eat dog world, not the sunless sanctuary they had first envisioned.
Thousands of the lesser spawn had died, Ivar confirmed. Most had already gone incurably mad from the years of starvation and isolation by the time they were freed, and were culled immediately.
The rest were constantly at each other’s throats in a struggle for resources.
Leon’s coven, said Ivar, had tried to establish trade relations with druergar, kept herds of deep rothe for blood supply, and otherwise made attempts to obtain blood without resorting to outright murder. Unfortunately their efforts were largely in vain, as some of the other covens had opted to simply keeping slaves to be used as blood bags. At the end of the day, as far as any mortal denizens of the Underdark were concerned, a vampire was simply a vampire, and no questions were asked about their allegiance or philosophy on blood procurement. Weapons came out on sight of any vampire, most of the time.
Ivar said that more and more vampires had begun fleeing the Underdark, slipping back into onto the surface. Soon they would flood the cities. Baldur’s Gate was the closest port city to the main Underdark vampire settlements, and it was likely that most would end up in the city, at least to pass through, like him. His own plan was to board a ship to Neverwinter with his daughter, and then head further north from there. Someplace with long nights, far from Baldur’s Gate and his wretched extended undead ‘family’.
“And the girl’s mother..?” asked Astarion.
“Ingrid died in childbirth,” answered Ivar. Astarion and Asmodea murmured words of condolences. “Accidents are prone to happen, you know,” he continued, giving Asmodea a look that made her shift uncomfortably. “Especially with one who gorges on this much blood. Look at all this!” he turned to Astarion, pointing at the tankard of heated boar blood he had been provided. “A luxury! And to you it’s nothing!”
“Was Ingrid human?” Astarion ignored Ivar’s outburst.
“Aye,” answered Ivar. “Most dhampirs’ mothers are.”
“There are others?” Astarion asked, surprised.
“Some, and I know a few women were heavy with child when I left.”
“Well…” said Astarion, somewhat taken aback. “Perhaps in another twenty years a generation of dhampir will solve the vampire overpopulation issue,” he offered. “I don’t know who will take care of the dhampir problem. Perhaps gur vampires?” His attempt at a joke fell on deaf ears.
“How do the vampires feel about them?” asked Asmodea.
“The dhampir tots are protected, at least in Leon’s coven,” said Ivar. “I reckon we’re all still amazed any of us can create new life… But their staying in the settlement is discouraged. I only waited until little Helmi was old enough to travel. The Underdark is no place for a child...”
A silence hung in the air briefly.
“But speaking of Leon…” Ivar said, suddenly remembering something. “Before I forget, I’ve a letter from him for you.”
He got up and left the room, leaving his hosts with his daughter.
They silently beheld the dhampir toddler on the ceiling for some moments, before meeting each other’s eyes.
“Do not tell me you want one,” Astarion pointed a cautionary finger at Asmodea.
“No thanks,” she curled her lip, before looking up at the child again. “But can you go get that thing off the ceiling? Or shall I go fetch a broom?”
“Why bother?” said Astarion, stretching his legs. “It seems perfectly happy up there.”
“What if it falls and cracks its head open?” Asmodea said with a frown, crossing her arms. “Your associate wouldn’t be very impressed if his daughter died the moment she was in our care.”
They both gasped in unison and made for the centre of the room - Astarion via the ceiling - as the little girl suddenly got on her feet and wobbled, upside down, towards the chandelier. Astarion got to her before she could damage herself or the candlewheel.
“I still can’t sense her,” he muttered, having come down onto the floor. “It’s uncanny… And gods, is this how cold I feel too?!” He regarded the toddler thoughtfully.
“Aww, she likes you,” Asmodea cooed, tilting her head, as the little girl tried to reach up to grab a handful of Astarion’s hair. He bared his fangs and hissed at her, only to have her chortle and hiss back at him, baring her own little fangs.
“Right, your father’s a vampire, why did I think that would work on you...” Astarion murmured, setting the toddler down.
Asmodea excused herself and returned to the theatre shortly after Ivar returned with Leon’s letter, leaving Astarion alone with Ivar and Helmi.
“So you were truly unable to enter on your own?” Astarion asked. “Interesting. It is a public space.”
“Let me guess,” said Ivar. “Living quarters stretching all across the top floor?”
“And most of the basement,” Astarion nodded, with a hint of a smile.
“Clever,” admitted Ivar. “Will spare you any surprises from the others. But they will show up in Baldur’s Gate sooner or later.”
Astarion only waved his hand dismissively.
“You could take your place on the Council anytime, you know,” Ivar continued. “You killed Cazador. They will always hold a seat for you.”
“Not interested,” murmured Astarion. “And for hells’ sake, why do you even care?! You’re headed north yourself.”
“From what I know, you’re not a bad man, Astarion,” said Ivar. “And that’s more than I can say for many of the others. ‘Not bad’ is far and few. Leon is not a bad man either, and he thinks you can be reasoned with. Think of all you could do for your lesser brothers and sisters.”
“Please…” scoffed Astarion. “Even if I cared about that. I am doing more for vampires here than I ever could beneath the ground. Why, ask anyone who’s attended the theatre. They’ll say: ‘Sure, I’ve met a vampire - a dashing gent dressed in feathers and lace, he had me pissing myself laughing at his salacious jokes - I love vampires!’.” He smirked. “I’m a curiosity, not a threat. And I would very much like to keep it that way.”
“You’re an aberration,” Ivar said, darkly. “Not even hiding you’re a vampire. All the blood you want delivered to your door. They will come, and they will be envious and spiteful. This can’t last forever.”
Astarion did not say anything to that, and taking his silence to be encouragement, Ivan continued.
“The Council will ensure protection is extended to any mortal concubine you wish to keep - take the woman with you. All the better if you have your own blood source.”
Astarion wrinkled his nose in distaste at the implication.
“The answer is still no,” he scowled. “And she’s no concubine.” He took a sip of his wine, before adding with a touch of self-satisfaction: “Oddie and I are married.”
Sometime in the past five years
To say the wedding was rushed would have been a massive understatement.
Asmodea’s dress consisted of a show corset, hastily sewn together with a mass of organza, tulle and scraps of silk, all dyed a deep blood red. The skirt was an enormous, puffy thing that bounced and swayed with every step. It was farcical, ostentatious, garish and undeniably Asmodea. The seamstress, who had been cajoled into abandoning all other requests until this project was complete, could not have been prouder of her work, once she was finally convinced that this was indeed what her client wanted.
Astarion was the one to wear white, opting for a tasteful suit with silver embroidery.
The venue was an inn that was still partially under reconstruction, which hadn’t otherwise been open to the public yet.
The entertainment was provided by their friends and regular acts that appeared at their tavern. They took turns between performing and carousing with the rest of the guests.
The catering, thank the gods, was taken over and arranged by Wyll’s people.
The day began with a rush of people and last minute deliveries and arrangements. Asmodea was trying to direct it all before allowing herself to be whisked away to the wedding venue, where she would finish her preparations.
“This was left outside,” someone handed her a hamper filled with what appeared to be an assortment of edible treats, teas, little packages and a few jars and bottles. “Must be a gift for you, don’t know why they didn’t deliver it properly.”
Asmodea frowned at the hamper. What she first took to be woven willow strands appeared to actually be interwoven roots, and the basket itself seemed to be a peculiarly shaped plant, with leaves sprouting at the top. She wondered if it could be planted or placed into water.
Her eyes grew wider and wider as she regarded the contents of the plant basket.
“What is it, my love?” Astarion approached her.
Asmodea silently handed him a piece of paperbark engraved with sylvan words of felicitations, as she picked up a bottle and swirled it to observe the contents. The liquid inside appeared thicker than regular wine. And did it shimmer..?
Astarion’s own eyebrows had already shot up at the sight of the contents of the basket, by the time she handed him the bottle.
“My espruar is shoddy… Pray tell, what does this label say?”
“‘For the vampling’,” Astarion translated. “Can it… can it do that?! Slip between our plane and the feywild..?”
“I guess so,” Asmodea said with disbelief. She reached for one of the jars and opened it, only to gasp and close it back up. She let out a giggle and handed it to Astarion. “Tell me that is what I think it is.”
Astarion opened the jar and observed the contents.
“That, my dear, is indeed enough feydust to obliterate the mind of a dragon.” He looked at the other items in the basket. “That appears to be halfling weed - nothing special, but can’t go wrong with it either. That,” he continued, peeking into another jar, “is definitely dream flake. Not something I would risk, given my nightmares.”
Asmodea barely suppressed her incredulous laughter as he went on.
“That’s patch.” Astarion met her inquisitive look - clearly that was not something she was familiar with. “It will have you communicating with plants, not that they have anything interesting to say.” He continued to dig through the basket. “Sharpsugar?! That’s even more expensive than the feydust. And that’s…” Astarion suddenly broke off into elaborate elven cursing, dropping the item he had picked up back into the basket. Asmodea picked up the satchel that had upset him so much, and guffawed.
“Aww, they even packed your favourite!” she called out after him, as he retreated back upstairs, indignant. “Catnip!”
Jaheira, stately in an emerald green gown, sipped tea, watching one of Asmodea’s friends - Sarana, an improbable githyanki raised by halflings - fuss over her hair and makeup, applying finishing touches to the bride’s appearance.
“Will anyone be walking you down the aisle?” asked Jaheira.
“I will be walking myself, thank you very much,” Asmodea answered, reaching up to adjust her hair. Sarana silently smacked her hands away from her locs, which had been arranged into a complex crown, and continued adding some delicate touchups to her cheekbones with a brush.
“I was thinking of having Wyll do it, for the sheer grandiosity of it, but he can’t do that and conduct the ceremony.”
“Has Halsin offered?” asked Jaheira.
“Halsin?!” Asmodea laughed. “Having an ex-lover hand me over to my husband-to-be, who is incidentally also his ex-lover. I can’t even tell what all that symbolism would imply, but I think I’ll avoid it, even if he does volunteer.”
“Astarion, are you decent?” he heard Shadowheart’s voice from behind the door.
“What kind of a trick question is that?!” he scoffed, as the door opened to admit the cleric. She looked stunning in a flowing dusky lavender dress.
She took one look at him before recoiling in mock horror.
“Oh! Oh no… No, this won’t do at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Astarion asked, annoyed. “I don’t need a mirror to know I’m immaculate.”
“Exactly,” Shadowheart agreed. “You’re so perfect - it’s painful to look at. She will absolutely hate it. Here, allow me…”
She reached up to loosen his collar and unbutton the top button of his shirt, and did something with his hair, moving some strands around.
“There,” she said, withdrawing to look at her handiwork. “Much better. Not even you are allowed to outshine the bride, you know.” She smiled and stepped back towards him, to draw him into a hug, landing a kiss on his cheek. “Congratulations!”
And with that, she withdrew from the room, leaving Astarion blinking in surprise at the over-familiarity. Had she already gotten into the wine..? No matter. He returned to his preparations, which consisted of pacing around and trying to convince himself he had absolutely no reason to panic. He did not re-button his shirt.
The ceremony took place after sunset.
Their vows were heartfelt but brief. They both dreaded having to make an overt display of sentimentality publicly.
They both only laughed in relief when Minsc briefly stole everyone’s attention by releasing a loud sob when Astarion called Asmodea his sunlight in his speech.
The band was playing some cacophonous waltz, which seemed to be getting progressively faster as time went on, and Astarion was stuck swirling in a ludicrous dance that mostly consisted of spinning at breakneck speed around the dance floor with a partner. Between the ridiculous dance pas and the feywine he had been consuming throughout the evening, even his vampire head was swimming. He’d somehow lost sight of Oddie, as though it should even have been possible to lose sight of a boisterous little red cloud. And, absurdly, he found it simply impossible to leave. Apparently everyone needed to tick “dance with a vampire on their wedding day” off their bucket lists - new partners simply kept appearing in his arms after each turn around the hall.
He found himself leading Katrina, Gale’s date - apparently someone from the college he was teaching in - in yet another sequence. Surprisingly spry in her movements, she did not miss a step as she masterfully diverted an exchange of polite niceties into an interrogation on the topic of the intricacies of vampire digestion. Astarion could not boast the same about his footwork, as he nearly crashed them into another couple, caught off guard by the subject matter of her questions. Luckily they were nearing an end of a round.
“I… I don’t know, I suppose it’s all simply absorbed into the tissue..? Magically? I’m sure that’s a topic you know more about than I do. …I better return you to Gale, I’m sure he’s distraught without your lovely company.”
As they reached Gale, the wizard extended his hand, which Astarion presumed was for Katrina. As he released her, however the hand somehow ended up in Astarion’s, with another around his shoulder, and they were off, as though carried off by sheer momentum.
“Good gods, Gale, not you too!” Astarion groaned. “Alright, fine!”
Between the music, the flickering magelights and the voices all around him, the night starting to seem like a delirious dream he couldn’t wake up from. And where was Oddie..?
As they spun off, Gale whispered conspiratorially to Astarion.
“I have been tasked with delivering an important message.”
“Well?” Astarion sighed. “Out with it!”
“Your blushing bride awaits you. Through the kitchen, and up the service stairs.” Gale chuckled at Astarion’s immediate look of relief and gratitude. “Now go, go!”
He released his hands, leaving the inertia to carry Astarion staggering towards the exit leading into the kitchen, where he swiftly disappeared before anyone could note his absence.
He caught a glimpse of her skirt disappearing around a corner as he reached the top of the stairs. A hand beckoned him coquettishly before disappearing around another, and then there she was, grinning at him from the doorway of one of the inn’s suites. He tried to reach for and embrace her, but she only laughed and dodged him, retreating into the room and keeping a table between them.
“You left me stranded, all alone with those lunatics” Astarion admonished her, walking around the table as she mirrored his steps.
“You were having fun!” she protested
“I detested every second.”
“I saw you laughing so hard you choked,” she teased.
“Minsc insisted I dance with him and his hamster, it was awful,” he said darkly.
“Yes, Boo looked adorable sitting in your hair,” she laughed.
Astarion suddenly changed direction, and so did she, with a titter.
“Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?” he purred. “You know you can’t win it.”
She grinned, but before she could do anything, he simply leapt over the table, catching her in his arms. She gave a gleeful squeal as he spun and lifted her onto the table, wedging his hips between her legs. He planted his arms on the table around her sides, leaning over her.
“Ah-ah!” she warned, as he started to kiss down her neck, grazing it with his fangs. “No fang marks on my neck - we still need to return to the others before the night is over.”
“A vampire biting his bride, what a scandal that would be,” Astarion murmured as he dipped lower, towards her cleavage.
“Definitely not there, either,” she laughed, enjoying his cool breath tickling her skin.
Astarion straightened to simply kiss her, but once again, she held a finger to his lips.
“Sarana insisted on touching up the pastes and powders just earlier, and she will be most displeased if you ruin all her hard work before the night is over. She brought her greatsword to protect her artistry’s honour, you know.”
“And here I thought I wouldn’t need to fear any more githyanki women, with Lae’zel away on the astral plane…” Astarion lamented. “But I’m sure I can find a place no one will see…”
He urged her back until she lay propped up on her elbows, before finding her leg somewhere in the mass of her skirts, and kissing up towards her thigh, starting from her ankle.
“Now why would you wear something so ridiculous and impractical..?” he said between kisses, as he moved further up.
“It’s perfectly practical,” she batted her lashes innocently.
Annoyed with her mass of skirts, he hiked them up, throwing them up over her head. She laughed and tried to get out from under them.
“So it is! You naughty girl…” he purred against her skin, licking and sucking up her thigh. She was wearing nothing underneath the dress.
He sank his fangs into the inside of her thigh, making her gasp. His fingers teased her, sliding between her opening and her clit, grazing it but not quite giving her what she wanted, as he drank from her. His mind cleared, somewhat, as her blood hit his tongue, the effects of the feywine from earlier being replaced by a desire overwhelming all his senses.
He didn’t take much blood from her, instead kissing his way further between her legs, his lips and tongue caressing the soft skin just outside her sex, without going in.
“Please…” she moaned breathlessly.
The blasted skirt started falling over Astarion’s head and getting in his way again, and he growled, tearing at it, as he got up.
“Do not rip it,” Asmodea scolded him, still defiant despite her precarious position. “Not yet.”
“Not yet,” he agreed, kissing her - Sarana and her wrath be damned - as he impatiently unlaced his pants.
“But you will need to, later - I was sewn into all this,” she whispered in his ear once they’d broken their lips apart from one another’s, nibbling on his earlobe.
They both breathed a sigh of relief as he entered her, as though finding long needed respite. She wrapped her legs around his hips as they ground into each other, trying to alleviate a desperate need.
“Mine,” he gasped, thrusting into her. “All mine… Only mine,” he kept repeating like a prayer.
“Yours…” she gasped. “Forever…”
“I’ve been yours for a long time, you know, this is only a formality,” she said a while later, trying to make herself look presentable before heading back downstairs.
“Oh I know,” he answered, smirking. “But now I have a receipt that confirms it.”
The word ‘forever’ rang a bittersweet bell in his mind, but he brushed it aside. He refused to think about that tonight.
Getting into the carriage Wyll had arranged to take them home was turning out to be quite the challenge for Asmodea, given the voluminous skirt.
“Oh for the love of,” Astarion said, impatiently, before hoisting her up one-handed, and pulling her in after him. She collapsed on him, laughing, as he fell back onto the seat. Someone shut the door behind them, and they were off. The ridiculous skirt with its now crumpled and creased layers of fabric seemed to fill the entire cabin - it was all Astarion could see beyond Asmodea leaning against his chest, beaming down at him.
He reached up to tuck away a lock of her hair that had gotten loose.
“My love…” he whispered, smiling up at her. “Can you believe any of this..?” She peppered his face with kisses, as he continued, incredulously. “What in the heavens did we just do..? What did we do..?”
Present day
“I don’t understand,” Asmodea said as they lay in bed at dawn. It was just the two of them, the bard had been forgotten, at least for the night. “Why did he decide to come here to begin with? Didn’t he violate some vampire etiquette by showing up unannounced at another vampire’s lair?”
Astarion winced at her choice of words to describe their home, but answered.
“No, that was actually a display of perfect civility and decorum. I would have sensed his presence in the city anyway, and felt compelled to investigate. It saved me going down to the docks myself.”
Asmodea contemplated that, lying on his chest.
“I suppose it was better for the child as well…” she added. “Say, and what was in that letter from Leon, anyway?”
“Oh what’s in any of their letters…” sighed Astarion. “Complaints about the others and vague hints of an alliance should I join them.” He traced circles on Asmodea’s back, staring up at the ceiling. “Ivar was adamant that vampires will start flooding Baldur’s Gate soon, to plague the populace. He said it’s a matter of time before an angry mob arrives to drag me out into the light at daytime.”
They had accounted for such possibilities. The walls of the building contained hidden passages, leading down to the basement, which in turn was connected to the sewers. Astarion could cloak himself in invisibility and flee any time of day or night, if it ever came to that.
“We always knew this was temporary, anyway,” he continued. “The city guard will not touch us as long as Wyll is at the helm, but who knows how long that will be? He could remain Grand Duke for the next 50 years, or he could choke on a piece of steak and die next minute. And who knows who will come after him?”
“I’ve thought of all this, but I… I didn’t think it would start unravelling so soon,” Asmodea whispered.
As the sun set, Astarion headed towards the room they had provided Ivar. There was another matter he didn’t get a chance to ask him about. Although the sun still lingered just above the horizon, he found the room empty - the man was already gone.
Astarion swore and raced downstairs.
He caught him just outside the Siren. It was as though he couldn’t get away fast enough. Ivar gave Astarion a careful, apologetic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“No disrespect, I was unsure where you were. Left a ‘thank you’ note in the room, but now I need to get on the ship as soon as possible,” he said.
Astarion only shook his head dismissively.
“Before you do that, I just wanted to ask...” Astarion began, nonchalantly. “Has… any new ‘unlife’ appeared in the Underdark? Beyond Cazador’s original spawn and the 7,000 offerings? Let’s not count the dhampir.”
“I don’t know what you’re asking, Astarion.” Ivar sighed, wearily.
“Oh, but I think you know exactly what I’m asking,” Astarion said, piercing Ivar with his eyes.
“Necromancy is forbidden,” he replied. “The law states that all vile acts of necromancy are to be punished, the offenders chained in silver and given to the sun, their abominable creations destroyed. Every coven enforces this. Does that answer your question?” Ivar said, irritated.
“No, it does not. I will speak as plainly as I can.” Astarion looked down at his nails in apparent boredom. “When your wife lay dying, did you try to turn her?”
Ivar regarded Astarion with a darkening expression.
“Have you lost your mind?” he said. “Spawn cannot create new vampires.”
“There are those who believe that spawn become full vampires once their masters perish,” Astarion countered.
“And there are those who need to be reminded that necromancy is forbidden,” Ivar retorted. “Encouraging necromancy and spreading misinformation about it,” he leaned closer to Astarion, lowering his voice, “is also forbidden.”
“Oh don’t give me that shit,” Astarion hissed, dropping any pretence of his nonchalance. “As she lay bleeding, doomed and half dead already, did you try to turn her or not? As a last resort. I know what I would have done. So did you?”
“My wife is dead, Astarion. I buried her,” Ivar said grimly.
“Yes, yes, I heard you and I believe you,” Astarion sighed in exasperation. “So did she claw her way back out of the grave you put her in?”
Before Ivar could answer, his daughter started to cry, and he turned his attention to her, trying to soothe her. He did not turn away and leave, however.
“How old is your little half-elf?” he asked Astarion, finally.
“Around 40.”
“You have plenty of time, then. Find another way. Or better yet, stop playing the fool, bid your farewell, the sooner the better, and then stick to your own kind, in a place where you belong.”
Astarion opened his mouth to speak again, but Ivar cut him off, brusquely, and set out towards the docks.
“Take care, Astarion. You have my gratitude for your hospitality. I wish you well, and I hope we never see one another again.”
Astarion watched, silently, until Ivar disappeared around a corner. The man was gone, but the sense of unease he had brought with him had only grown. Astarion couldn’t shake off the feeling that what he thought had been whole suddenly revealed a multitude of tiny cracks.
Thank you for reading! Find the fic on AO3 as well.
Thank you @grandmother-goblin for letting me borrow Sarana the githyanki bimbo for this chapter! 😄 You can find more of Sarana here, under Gale x Tav
Tags:
@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tragedybunny @spunky-89
@lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird
@brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna
@mj-bites @bardic-inspo
#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#some smut#some astarion smut#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#bg3weddingseason#bg3 fanfic#astarion x asmodea#astarion x oc#astarion x female tav#bloodbang chronicles#asmodea#whatever the fuck the opposite of the dadstarion tag is
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*Deidara waking up in bed, groggy and confused*
Deidara: What the hell? *groans* My head … what happened last night?
Deidara: *turns his head to the left and notices the many empty beer bottles scattered along the floor*
Deidara: Dammit … this is exactly why I told Hidan I don’t like drinking, hm! My body feels like shit and I can’t remember a thing!
Hidan, next to him: Please shut the fuck up before I kill you, blondie.
Deidara, startled: What the — why are we in bed together?! Oh god I didn’t … WE didn’t …
Hidan: Relax, bitch. They just put me in here ‘cause they didn’t wanna clean up our puke from a lotta different places.
Deidara: *lifts the blanket and blushes* Oi; why are we both naked?!
Hidan, turning on his side and pulling the pillow over his head: So loud! I always sleep naked, asshole. You, you took off your pants ‘cuz of Uchiha.
Deidara: … Itachi? What does he have to do with anything??
Hidan: Fucker dared you to get naked and go confess your gay love to puppet-dick, remember?
Deidara: WHAT?!
Hidan: If you scream one more time I’m cutting your fucking nuts off. You spent all night drinking and going on and on about that ugly-ass redhead and finally Uchiha told you to stop bein’ a pussy and do something about it.
Deidara: Itachi said to “stop being a pussy”? Really?
Hidan: Fucker gets weird when he drinks. Anyway you stripped and we went to puppet-dick’s room. You did a “mating dance” for him with your dick swinging and shit, and at the end you kissed him then ran away giggling like a fucking weirdo.
Deidara: *pulls his own pillow over his head* Oh my god … yeah okay, go ahead and kill me, Hidan, hm. As soon as Sasori comes to find me, my life is over anyway!
Hidan: *rolls back over towards him* Hey, cheer up, bastard. I mean yeah what you did was fucking stupid but it was kinda ballsy too. *laughs* Literally, “ball-sy”. And if Red don’t want you, I’m pretty sure mask-boy does. He was looking so hard I thought I saw blood running out of his eye-hole!
Deidara: So not only did a lot of you see me naked, but I completely botched my confession to Sasori and made it so that now he’ll never take me seriously. That scythe of yours is sounding better and better every second.
*the door opens and Kakuzu and Sasori walk in*
Kakuzu: Come, brat … *bends and lifts Hidan out of bed and into his arms* We have a mission this afternoon and I need to get you sobered up before then. Let’s get you into a bath.
Hidan: Yeah, yeah … later, blondie.
*once Kakuzu is gone, Sasori shuts the door and sits at the edge of the bed, a cup of tea in his hands*
Sasori: Drink this. I’ve crushed some powders into it that should help with the headache you likely have.
Deidara: T-thanks, Danna. *quietly sips his tea and tries to ignore Sasori’s gaze on his face*
Sasori: So. I was thinking now might be a good time for us to have a little talk.
Deidara: Danna please believe me, I am so sorry about what I said and did. You know that wasn’t me, that’s not how I am, right?
Sasori: So you’re not in love with me?
Deidara, blushing harder than ever and looking down: Well, yeah, I am, hm. I meant the dancing naked thing, and whatever other stupid thing I did last night, hm. That’s not me.
Sasori: Alcohol is certainly a funny thing, isn’t it? Lowered inhibitions can be quite the mixed bag. But, despite everything … I’m glad you told me, Deidara.
Deidara: R-really?
Sasori: Mm. I’ve had some hours to think about it, to really think about what you said, and my own reaction to it. And … *gently takes Deidara’s hands* I believe I have some pretty strong feelings for you as well. I have for quite some time. *chuckles* I suppose it took seeing your very brazen “dance” to make me realize it.
Deidara: Oh god …
Sasori: And seeing you naked like that, well, it made me feel almost desperate to see you like that again.
Deidara, flustered: D-Danna … that’s really flattering but I … I’m n-not ready for that yet? I mean shouldn’t we start with a date or something first and then work our way up to —
Sasori: No, no, brat. I meant I wish to closely examine that mole on your backside. It’s quite large and should be removed. Don’t worry; you’ll only be incapacitated for a couple of weeks, the pain in your buttocks will be minimal, and when it’s all over, then we can have our date. *stands up* Now finish your tea and come to my lab. The sooner I can cut into you, the better. *leaves*
Deidara:
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Okay so I thought and thought and thought about writing a chapter by chapter "Tommy" fic and I gotta say I've decided to write it.
I wrote the base for the plot, it still seems solid to me, I wrote a "test" fragment to see if the third narration fits, if the setting is weird enough, if a certain bond is strong enough to make changes and I dare to say I probably worked so hard on it, that it is - I have this idea since November 2023 so a lot of time.
So, without further ado, what I wanna write is this: "Tommy" fic that focuses on an uncle x niece trope (so basically Uncle Ernie x Me fic - yes, that will be a self-insert), but in a way that there will be a bond between them. I have this whole idea of me being the unwanted daughter of Nora and Frank (giving Tommy a loving sister in the process) who finds the parental love in Uncle Ernie's arms, but the bond I'll create with him as a child will actually have a side effect that will resolve in Uncle Ernie falling in love with me at a very young age and with me falling in love with Uncle Ernie once I grow up enough to realize that perhaps I see him more than a parental figure.
Can't say much more, but this is what the whole idea is based off. I also want to see if there will be any interest in reading this kind of fic so that's why this post exists and that's why I've decided to share the "test" fragment I wrote. It generally shows what atmosphere this fic will have, how I see the situation unfolding. It might appear in the fic in a changed form. It's down below, under "read more" so if you're interest, go ahead and read it and I hope you enjoy it <3
Tagging the ones who were interested from the get go and the ones who were liking the posts where I've mentioned this fic - I read it as in that you're interested, don't feel forced to read what's in the "read more" section:
@jimmysdragonsuit13 @radioroger @ennals @burn-on-the-flame @fiammee @minty-playhouse @dzdndcnfsd @littlemissheavenonearth
The frustration was getting to him, his beloved alcohol not helping much anymore, the image of his niece burned into his mind without any way to erase it. She's looking at him with that sweet smile on her face, so happy to see him, calling him uncle in that innocent and full of adoration voice of hers that is driving him insane… The empty pint hit the hard table at the bar, Uncle Ernie muttering curses under his breath, while Frank was observing him cautiously.
"Ernie" Frank mumbled, more drunk than his friend, but that was normal. He could never outdrink him. "What's going on?"
"A woman is stuck in my mind." He didn't look at Frank, he didn't have to. "It's starting to piss me off…"
Frank's grin was as big as never before. "Did you, perhaps, fall in love, you old fool?" The idea of that was laughable to Frank, but what he heard next made him change his mind.
"I fucking did." The silence after that was heavy. Frank cleared his throat, not believing in what he was hearing.
"You're too drunk" he concluded, drinking the rest of his beer. "You've never treated a woman like she's deserving to be treated, I doubt you even know what love is. As far as I can tell, I would call it lust not love-"
"I couldn't even bring myself to touch her." Uncle Ernie spat out, hitting the table with his dirty fingers. Frank blinked in disbelief. "If it was lust, I would fuck her years ago. And now as it is…" A short, high laugh escaped his throat. He didn't finish the sentence, but he knew exactly what would happen if he had a chance. My tiny sweet wouldn't survive it, he thought, creepy smile appearing on his face at the thought of his niece crying and whimpering beneath him as his cock is buried deep inside her. Shivers run down his spine, not to mention that he got hard at the idea, a visible bump forming on his pants.
"That woman has to be a witch" Frank commented, shaking his head, to which Uncle Ernie laughed. He suddenly turned to Frank with insanity in his eyes.
"She's a beautiful angel!" he announced as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "Curly, light green eyed, chubby beauty who you've handed to me since she was a little girl!"
Frank needed a while to connect dots, when he did, he suddenly felt sober again. "Are you…" Frank's voice ceased to exist when the person Uncle Ernie described appeared in his mind. "Are you talking about my Caroline?"
"She's not yours" Uncle Ernie corrected him. "She never was, you've never loved her." He pointed an accusatory finger at Frank. "She only calls you her dad because she has to, because she's your offspring."
Any father would get mad upon hearing this revelation, upon knowing that his own friend fell in love with his daughter, but not Frank. He actually smirked. "You are right about that. Caroline was always a bother to me."
Uncle Ernie laughed upon hearing it, he knew he was right. He was the one Caroline called dad when she was little and who she still treated like one. "She feels that, you know?"
"She told you?" Frank asked out of sheer curiosity. A plan was slowly forming in his mind.
Uncle Ernie nodded. "Plenty of times."
"How can you know it didn't change?" Frank put another question out. Uncle Ernie lifted an eyebrow. "Caroline's been avoiding you and here you are, thirsting for her like a dog."
"She called me two days ago" Uncle Ernie explained, calming down a little bit. Back at his home, he almost fell while hearing her voice on the other side. "She was crying, apologizing to me, asking if we could meet."
"Did you decline the offer?" Frank had to hold himself to not burst out laughing at the way Uncle Ernie glared at him, offended.
"I accepted. There was a reason why I was at your house yesterday" he explained, still regretting that nothing had happened. That one kiss wasn't enough.
"Then I'll have good news for you!" Frank exclaimed, taking Uncle Ernie aback. "You might have a chance to visit her and live with her for a few days." Upon seeing Uncle Ernie's confused expression, Frank started explaining: "I'm planning to go on holidays with Nora. I was about to leave Tommy with Caroline, she can take care of him well, but we can take him with us, just to leave her to you."
Uncle Ernie quickly caught up with Frank's way of thinking. "Are you giving her to me?"
Frank smiled widely. "If she's so eager to go to you then I can allow that."
I might finally get rid of her, Frank thought.
I might finally get her for myself, Uncle Ernie thought, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "When are you planning to go?" Was his next question.
"In a month" Frank answered.
"Enough to get close to her" Uncle Ernie mumbled, laughing to himself, already feeling excited. The only question left was if he was able to hold himself for another month.
#I'm feeling anxious and excited at the same time#I'm mostly afraid of reactions because this is like so not me to write such fiction#but eh#I only have this one life so I might roll with everything as well#I will reblog it a few times I don't wanna this to disappear somewhere#the only problem is the platform I'll publish this on#but I think I'll stick to AO3#fic corner
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Fairytale
Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc has everything he could ask for (off the track, at least) including a fairytale romance … except no one actually believes that his girlfriend is really his girlfriend
Charles sighs as he walks into the drivers’ lounge, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. Ever since he had casually mentioned having a girlfriend, and more specifically who the girlfriend in question is, his friends have been merciless.
“Wow, if it isn’t Prince Charles in the flesh! Back from another romantic getaway with his imaginary princess,” Max laughs as he enters.
“Come on mates, lay off,” Charles pleads half-heartedly. He knows it is useless.
“I just don’t get it,” Lando chimes in. “There’s no shame in admitting that you’re single. We’re racing drivers, we don’t exactly always have time for relationships.”
“Maybe his standards are too high,” Pierre suggests. “He’s actually holding out for real royalty or something.”
The others laugh as Charles feels his face grow warm. If only they believed him.
“You know what you need?” Carlos grins. “A nice Spanish girl to set you up with. My sister’s friend Elena is single, I could give you her number.”
Charles rolls his eyes. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because we’ve never seen her!” Max exclaims. “You talk about her all the time but she never comes to races or appears in photos. She might as well be a unicorn.”
“Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be seen with Charles,” Lando teases.
Charles frowns, stung by Lando’s words. If only they knew the truth. The reality is that his girlfriend is extremely famous in her own right and values the little privacy she has left too much to be seen at races. Her life is already public enough without adding the scrutiny that anyone connected to a Formula 1 driver inevitably receives on top of it. Besides, she has her own royal duties to attend to.
“Come on guys, that’s unfair,” Pierre says gently, noticing Charles’ discomfort. “If Charles says he has a girlfriend, we should believe him.”
“Thank yo—” Charles starts to say with relief. At least someone is on his side.
“Even if she is imaginary,” Pierre adds with a smirk.
Charles groans and puts his head in his hands as the laughter starts up again. He can’t really blame them for not believing him.
You are basically a fairytale princess — beautiful, elegant, and kind. Not to mention an actual member of the royal family. Her Serene Highness Princess Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline of Monaco is the type of girl people write epic poems and songs about. Charles can hardly believe his luck that you had chosen him.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Daniel interrupts, taking pity on Charles. “Leave the poor man alone.”
“We’re just joking,” Max says defensively. “Charles knows we don’t mean anything by it.”
Charles gives Max a tight smile. “Sure.”
“Tell you what,” Daniel says, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “Bring your mystery girl to a race soon. We’ll all get to meet her and then you can finally prove these jokers wrong.”
Charles sighs. If only it were that simple. You have been tempted to attend races in the past but the scrutiny both of them would come under is just too much. You treasure the privacy your relationship allows. But maybe Daniel is right. Maybe it is time for you to finally meet his friends. After all, you are the love of his life. There is nothing to hide.
“Alright, deal,” Charles says finally. “I’ll ask her.”
The others exchange surprised looks, not expecting him to agree.
“Can’t wait to meet her,” Carlos says with a wink.
Charles rolls his eyes again but smiles. One way or another, he is going to prove to them that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination.
***
Charles is still thinking about you when he is suddenly accosted by Silvia, Ferrari’s Head of Communications, after practice.
“Charles! Just who I was looking for,” she says briskly. “I need to discuss something rather important with you.”
Charles suppresses a groan. Conversations with Silvia are never fun. “What’s up?” He asks with forced cheerfulness.
Silvia lowers her voice. “It’s about your relationship status. We feel it would be beneficial if you were seen dating someone … compatible.”
Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Compatible?”
“Yes. A model. Or perhaps an actress. Someone who would look good on your arm and boost your image.”
Charles folds his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with my girlfriend?”
Silvia waves a hand impatiently. “Yes yes, this alleged princess you keep mentioning. The problem, Charles, is that no one has seen her. No one knows if she is actually connected to you in any way. So, as far as we are concerned, for all intents and purposes, you are single.”
Charles frowns. This again. “I keep telling you that she’s really my girlfriend. Y/N is just very private.”
“Private women don’t date Formula 1 drivers,” Silvia says bluntly. “If she really was in a relationship with you, she would be here. But since that is clearly a figment of your imagination, we need to take steps.”
Charles feels his blood boil. How dare Silvia insult his relationship with Y/N? Question their connection?
“Here are profiles of suitable options,” Silvia continues, shoving a surprisingly heavy folder at him. Charles doesn’t open it.
“No.”
Silvia blinks. “No?”
“My relationship with Y/N is off limits,” Charles says firmly. “My personal life is exactly that — personal. Not to be exploited for PR.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Silvia snaps. “This is bigger than you. Your image reflects on Ferrari. We need to be able to control it.”
“No. What you need to do is back off,” Charles shoots back.
Silvia’s nostrils flare. Clearly she isn’t used to such defiance. “Charles, be reasonable—”
“I am being reasonable,” Charles interrupts. “I won’t pretend to date someone just because the team wants me to. I’m with Y/N. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
Silvia shakes her head in disgust. “You’re making a big mistake. Don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”
She storms off, heels clicking angrily against the floor.
Charles takes a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He can’t remember the last time he stood up to Silvia like that. It felt good but also nerve-wracking. He knows she won’t let this go easily.
His phone buzzes and his heart leaps when he sees it’s a text from you.
Heard you had a rough day. Wish I could be there to make it better. I love you 💋
Charles smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing. You always knew just what to say and when to say it.
He quickly types back.
I wish you were here too. No matter what anyone says, they can’t change my feelings for you. I love you so much ❤️
He hits send, imagining your smile as you read his text. It doesn’t matter what his team, the media, or even his fellow drivers think. His relationship with you is real and authentic. Someday he’ll find a way for you to be by his side. But for now, your private moments together are enough.
Charles knows staying with you is the right decision, PR be damned. You are his soulmate — the fairytale princess he never expected to find but thanks God every single day that he did. Your love is worth fighting for. And someday, when the time is right, he’ll finally be able to show the world that what you have together is very real.
***
Charles groans as he notices multiple missed calls from his brothers. He has been avoiding their calls lately, knowing they would just tease him mercilessly about his girlfriend. But he knows he can’t dodge them forever.
Taking a deep breath, he calls Arthur back.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charles himself, taking time away from his busy schedule of dating princesses to spare a chat with us commoners,” Arthur says slyly upon answering.
Charles rolls his eyes. “Very funny. What do you want?”
“We just wanted to check in on our brother and see how life with Monegasque royalty is treating you,” Lorenzo chimes in. Charles realizes he must be on speaker.
“Oh yes, Princess Y/N,” Arthur says in an exaggerated swoony voice. “Our brother’s one true love since he was 15 years old and had that giant poster of her plastered on his wall.”
Charles feels his face flush. He knows exactly what poster Arthur is referencing — a stunning photo of you in a ballgown from a high society event years ago. Teenage Charles has ripped it out of a magazine and hung it up reverently in his room, gazing at it longingly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sputters. “I never had a poster.”
“Oh really?” Lorenzo laughs. “I seem to recall you cutting out every picture you could find of her and keeping a little scrapbook.”
Charles cringes internally. Okay, maybe his teenage obsession had been a bit … enthusiastic. But he can’t help that he had recognized you as his dream girl even then.
“Alright, so maybe I had a tiny crush on her,” Charles admits. “But it is not crazy that we ended up together.”
Arthur cackles. “You used to kiss her photos goodnight before going to bed! You were completely obsessed!”
“Remember how he tried to sneak into that royal gala at Salle des Etoiles to see her?” Lorenzo adds. “He was totally insane.”
Charles grimaces at the memory. Okay, not his finest moment.
“Face it Charles, you’ve been in love with the imaginary idea of Princess Y/N since you were in nappies,” Arthur teases. “No shame in admitting she wouldn't even give you the time of day now.”
Charles feels his frustration rising. Why does no one believe him?
“Because your so-called relationship makes no sense!” Lorenzo says, accurately reading his silence. “She’s a literal princess and you’re … you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Charles grumbles. He knows his brothers are just teasing but it still stings.
“Come on, just admit you made the whole thing up to get everyone off your back,” Arthur prods.
Charles sighs loudly. “For the millionth time, what we have is 100 percent real! Just because it seems unlikely doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I don’t care if none of you believe me, I love her and she loves me.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“You alright there?” Arthur asks, his voice softening.
“Yes, I just wish everyone would stop questioning my relationship all the time,” Charles admits. “It hurts.”
“We’re only joking Charles, we don’t mean any harm,” Lorenzo says gently.
“I know,” Charles replies. “Doesn’t make it any easier to hear constantly though.”
“You’re right, we took the teasing too far,” Arthur says. “We’ll lay off from now on.”
Charles smiles slightly. “Thanks. And someday soon I will prove to you that it is real.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Arthur finally laughs.
Charles groans and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Clearly nothing he says would convince his stubborn brothers that his relationship with you was real and not merely a childhood fantasy.
“Alright, well, I should get going,” Charles mumbles, eager to get off the phone.
“Chin up, we’re only teasing,” Lorenzo says lightly. “Have fun with your imaginary princess!”
Arthur and Lorenzo explode into more laughter as Charles quickly hangs up, his face burning. Someday, he will prove to them and everyone else that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination. No matter how long it takes.
***
Charles sinks into the familiar couch in his sports psychologist’s office, exhausted after a long day on the simulator and endless teasing from his team.
“Rough day out there?” Dr. Anderson asks kindly, noticing the strain on Charles’ face.
“That’s an understatement,” Charles sighs. “The car is just so slow this year. We keep trying new setups and tweaks but nothing helps. And the strategy is somehow even worse than the pace. It’s like the team wants me to fail.”
Dr. Anderson nods sympathetically. “That must be very frustrating. Tell me more about how it’s impacting you.”
Charles launches into a tirade about the endless issues with the car, the incompetent strategists, and the lack of proper communication from his engineers. Dr. Anderson listens patiently, letting him vent his pent-up anger and disappointment.
After a lengthy rant, Charles finally runs out of steam. “Anyway, it’s just been a terrible season,” he concludes glumly.
“I can certainly understand why you feel that way,” Dr. Anderson says. “It sounds like the team is letting you down in many ways.”
Charles nods, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders after unloading. It helps to talk about it with someone whose job is not to judge.
“Is there anything else bothering you lately?” Dr. Anderson asks gently. “Any other sources of stress?”
Charles hesitates. He and Dr. Anderson have been working together for years, ever since he joined Ferrari. He knows he can open up to her.
“It’s just … well, besides the team stuff, no one believes me about my girlfriend,” he admits.
Dr. Anderson raises her eyebrows. “I see. Tell me more about that.”
Charles explains the endless teasing from his fellow drivers, the manipulation attempts by the PR team, and the doubtful reactions from his own family. How despite his best efforts, no one seems willing to accept that he is really dating Princess Y/N of Monaco.
“It’s so frustrating!" He bursts out at the end. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince them that we are actually together.”
Dr. Anderson purses her lips, jotting down notes. “I can understand why their doubt would upset you. It must be painful to have your relationship questioned.”
“Exactly!" Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up. “You get it. I knew I could talk to you.”
Dr. Anderson gives him a sympathetic smile.
Charles leaves the appointment feeling much better, confident that his psychologist believes him and is on his side.
As he is exiting, Charles notices Dr. Anderson’s notebook left open on her desk. Before he can stop himself, his eyes scan the page and focus on his name.
He feels his heart sink as he reads.
Charles Leclerc: deflecting from pain of difficult season by creating elaborate fantasy relationship. Fixation on celebrity crush indicates deeper self-esteem issues. Recommend to confront delusion directly in next session.
Charles reels, shock and anger swirling through him. Not even his own psychologist believes him! She thinks he is living in some weird fantasy.
Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Charles straightens his shoulders and walks out. He has never felt more alone and frustrated in his conviction. But he refuses to give up. No matter what anyone says, his love for you is real. And one day, somehow, he will prove it to the world.
***
Charles is back at his family home in Monaco during a rare few days off. He is puttering around the kitchen while his mother cooks dinner.
“Oh, by the way, Y/N is coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles mentions casually. “I want you all to finally meet her.”
Pascale laughs lightly without looking up from the stove. “Of course, sweetie.”
Charles frowns. “I’m serious, maman. She’ll be here in an hour.”
“Mhmm, I’m sure she will,” Pascale replies indulgently. Charles huffs in annoyance.
Just then, his brothers come into the kitchen, freshly showered after playing football outside.
“Hey Charles, how’s life with your imaginary girlfriend?” Lorenzo immediately teases.
“She’s actually coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles says tersely.
Arthur lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah right! Good one.” He grabs a piece of bread from the counter, still chuckling.
Charles throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why does no one ever believe me about her?”
“Boys, that’s enough,” Pascale chides gently. “Let your brother dream.”
Charles opens his mouth to retort but just then, the doorbell rings. His eyes widen.
“I’ll get it!" He yells, dashing for the door. He takes a deep breath before swinging it open to reveal you standing there casually in jeans and a sweater, looking effortlessly gorgeous.
“Surprise!" You laugh, pulling him into a tight hug. Charles melts into your embrace, all his stress and frustration fading away.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” he murmurs into your hair.
You pull back to smile at him tenderly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I want your family to know how much I love you.”
Charles grins and takes your hand, leading your into the kitchen where his stunned family waits.
Pascale’s mouth is hanging open in shock. The piece of bread Arthur is holding falls to the floor with a dull thump.
“Y-your Serene Highness,” Pascale finally manages to stammer out, hastily wiping her hands on a towel. “What an honor, we weren’t expecting you ...”
She shoots an accusatory look at Charles, who throws up his hands defensively. “I told you she was coming!”
Pascale flushes. “Yes, well, I didn’t think … that is … we would have prepared ...”
You step forward gracefully, immediately putting Pascale at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N. I’ve been dying to meet Charles’ family.”
As you effortlessly charm his mother and brothers, Charles stands back watching with a satisfied smile. The shock and sheepishness on his family’s faces is vindicating after so many months of teasing and disbelief.
Charles has never been one to say “I told you so” but … I told you so.
***
The cheers of the crowd are deafening as the chequered flag waves for Charles at the Monaco Grand Prix. He can hardly believe it — finally, a win at his home race!
As he pulls into parc fermé and jumps out of the car, the emotions hit him. Pure elation at ending the long wait for a home victory. Relief at overcoming the team’s doubts. But most of all, excitement for what comes next.
The podium ceremony.
And with the Monegasque royal family presenting the trophies as usual, Charles knows exactly who will be handing him the winner’s trophy.
He can barely stand still through the anthems, eager for his moment with you. The weekend has been agony, so close to you yet having to pretend that there is nothing between the two of you.
But not anymore.
At last, the royal family walks onto the podium led by none other than Princess Y/N. Charles’ heart skips a beat at the sight of you gliding towards him in a figure-hugging red midi dress, sunlight glinting off your carefully styled hair. You somehow manage to become more and more beautiful every time he sees you.
Stopping in front of him, you give him a subtle wink before launching into the customary congratulatory speech. Charles nods along, not hearing a word as he zones out while admiring the stunning woman he gets to call his own.
At last, you turn to pick up the trophy. “It is my honor to present this trophy to our victor, who represents Monaco with pride in everything he does, Charles Leclerc,” you announce, holding it out to him with a brilliant smile.
In that moment, Charles throws all caution to the wind. As he accepts the trophy, he reaches out and pulls you into a passionate kiss.
The crowd below erupts in shocked cheers and screams. You melt into the kiss for a blissful moment before gently pulling back, your eyes sparkling. Charles grins at you breathlessly.
“Worth the wait?” He murmurs.
“Absolutely,” you whisper back, squeezing his hand. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour.”
Turning back to the roaring crowd, Charles wraps an arm around your waist and thrusts your linked hands into the air in triumph.
Looking out at the paddock, Charles sees the priceless dumbfounded looks on his fellow drivers’ faces. The Ferrari PR team looks ready to pass out in horror. Reporters are screaming questions and snapping photos frantically.
But Charles only has eyes for the radiant princess at his side. At long last, he has made your love public for the whole world to see.
Later, after celebrations around the circuit have started winding down in favor of moving to lounges and clubs for the night, Charles and you escape for a private moment together.
“That was quite the reveal,” you say with an amused quirk of your eyebrow.
Charles laughs. “I know, subtlety has never been my strong suit. I hope you don’t mind.”
You caress his face tenderly. “Of course not. I’m happy to finally be by your side. No more hiding.”
Charles kisses you deeply, all the love and longing of the past months pouring into it.
When you finally break apart, foreheads touching, he murmurs, “No more doubts. No more teasing. They all know now that you’re real and all mine.”
“Forever yours,” you whisper back. And seal it with another perfect kiss.
***
“I can’t believe it. I just … actually can’t believe it,” Max mutters, staring at the large screens around the paddock that are showing you and Charles gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes during the post-race interviews.
“Lord Perceval … dating an actual princess,” Carlos muses in disbelief.
“And not just any princess, his teenage celebrity crush!" Lando exclaims.
“I guess we owe him an apology,” Pierre says sheepishly.
“Big time,” Daniel agrees. “We gave him so much crap for making her up.”
“Speak of the devil,” Max mutters as Charles strides into the room, hand-in-hand with you.
An awkward silence descends on the group. Charles clears his throat, enjoying their obvious discomfort.
“I believe you all know my girlfriend, Her Serene Highness Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline, Hereditary Princess of Monaco and Marquise of Baux. But you can just call her Your Serene Highness or Princess Y/N,” he says politely.
The guys mumble greetings, not quite meeting your eyes. You smile graciously. “You can just call me Y/N. Any friend of Charles is a friend of mine and there’s no need for titles around friends.”
Charles narrows his eyes. “Actually I don’t think that will be necessary. I believe they should maintain protocol and address you properly.”
You shoots him a look. “Darling, it’s fine, really. I want your friends to feel comfortable around me.”
But Charles crosses his arms, not budging. “No, it’s not fine. I must insist that they observe the formal mode of address for royalty.”
The drivers shift awkwardly again. You pull Charles aside with a soothing smile.
“What are you doing?” You whisper. “I’m trying to put them at ease.”
“I know but they deserve to squirm for a bit after how much they mocked us,” Charles whispers back petulantly.
You bite back a smile. “Don’t be silly. I know their teasing hurt but let’s move past it. Can you really blame them for thinking it sounds like a made up fairytale? Put yourself in their shoes.”
Charles sighs. “I guess you’re right ... I just want them to respect you.”
“They will, in time,” you say gently. “But forcing them to be overly formal won’t accomplish that. I’m still just me.”
Charles nods reluctantly. “Okay fine, we’ll do it your way.”
You turn back to the drivers who are trying to act natural and pretending that they didn’t just listen in on your conversation with a bright smile. “I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you say. “Charles speaks very highly of his fellow drivers.”
“We’re, uh, happy to finally meet you too,” Max manages to get out.
“Yeah, congrats mate,” Daniel offers weakly.
More awkward silence follows. Charles smirks, deciding to twist the knife a bit more.
“I know you all had your doubts about me landing a catch like Y/N,” he says casually. “But I can’t blame you. Even I can hardly believe someone so incredible would fall for me.”
He gazes at you adoringly as you blush prettily while the drivers fidget uneasily.
“Anyway, as you can now see, she’s real and we are happier than ever!" Charles concludes brightly.
“We’re really sorry for not believing you,” Lando bursts out sincerely. “And all the teasing.”
The others chime in with apologies and congratulations. Charles graciously accepts, reassuring them no hard feelings.
After you have throughly charmed them all and departed, the group surrounds Charles excitedly.
“Alright, you have to give us all the details,” Max demands. “How did you meet? How did you get her to go out with you? When did it get serious?”
Charles just laughs. “It’s a long story. But the important thing is that she’s the only one for me. Despite everyone doubting us, our love was real from the start.”
“Pretty epic to have a real life princess as your soulmate,” Pierre says dreamily.
“Just remember you knew me back when you all thought she was imaginary,” Charles jokes.
“We’ll never live it down,” Carlos groans goodnaturedly.
Charles smiles, feeling lighter and happier than he has in ages. The long struggle to prove himself has been worth it. Now he has everything — the win, the girl, and the utter shock and joy of proving to the world that even his wildest dreams can come true.
And this is only the beginning for him and his beloved princess.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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Provocative
Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.
Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.
And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.
"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."
Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.
You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."
Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.
With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.
You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.
Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."
"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.
If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.
But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.
Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.
But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.
And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.
But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.
The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.
You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.
And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.
However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.
But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.
"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.
A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.
"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.
"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.
That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.
"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.
Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.
And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.
As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.
"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.
Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.
"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.
And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.
You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.
"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.
"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.
"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"
"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"
"Haha! Fuck you!"
Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.
"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.
"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."
The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.
Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.
"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.
Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.
"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.
Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.
"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.
But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.
You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.
"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.
"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.
"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.
You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.
"It's a he," you simply replied.
"Well, I couldn't care less about it."
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor imagine#alastor fanfiction#alastor fluff#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel oneshots#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, semi public sex (in a library), he's insufferable, possessive (he's used to getting what he wants n wants you all for himself), a little yandere i feel like
rich boy alhaitham has never experienced the idea of not getting something he so terribly longed for— in fact, the very moment he laid his eyes on you, desire flooding his veins and invading his taste, it's with immediate certainty that he will make you his no matter what.
because you see, it has almost always been that way for him, the idea of something being too expensive has never really crossed his mind in his adult years— although it was safe to say that in order to make you stay forever, he must add more than the couple gifts he had already planned to send your way, such wasn't enough, despite the fact that they certainly would make things a whole lot more easier for him.
because who on earth doesn't like a costly, with diamonds paired piece of earrings from fontaine? hand crafted of immeasurable worth. or would you rather choose the extravagant silken garments from the nation of electro? oh, you forgot already silly? you're of course, getting both, it's on alhaitham after all.
he doesn't understand that this emotion growing in his heart might become quite dangerous in the future, although again, the man was of smart kind, highly aware of the power he held not only with his fortune alone, but his cleverness as well— and there would never be a time in his life where he couldn't utilize the one or the other, or use them all together to get the result he planned to achieve.
dear, dearer, dearest you, alhaitham ponders, as long as the sun was alive, as long as desire merges with his addiction,
"i will pursue you".
alhaitham knows that from the bottom of his heart, he will make you his, and not just have you for a short period of time during those special days— where two people simply let go of steam, soft fingertips glissading over the edges of sweaty skin as you're wrapped around his fingers, the slight swell of your lips, the strong blush on his cheeks, both vividly showing that the two of you cannot keep your hands away from each other.
as expected, you find yourself hidden behind a bookshelf in the house of daena, and alhaitham kisses you like he has been imagining it for decades on end, soft lips dancing over yours as he forces his tongue past your mouth, his hands greedily skimming through your trembling figure— soul catching soul, like each touch of him felt like it was searing through you, burning your clothes.
there, in those precise rolls of fingers repeatedly crossing your sensitive nipples, alhaitham makes himself acquainted with your trace as he graciously feels around the curves of your body and how well you reacted to his touch, kiss and tremble— an immediate reminder for him that you like it when he touched you like that, lapped his tongue over yours like that or pressed his muscular thigh against your wet cunt like that.
alhaitham was cruel in a way— one might even go as far as to assume that pairing an excessively clever man with a boundless amount of money harbors a much darker meaning in on itself.
but right now, he was slightly cruel to you as well when it becomes more and more painful and he knows, he always does, especially when he notices how you're having trouble breathing from his antics, quite wobbly on your footing as you look up at him through soft eyes, lips parted when each kiss of him made your heart clench, unknowing of everything, only waiting until he finally fucks you like you wanted to.
what you do not realize is that rich boy alhaitham was already weak for you, and he could barely wait himself, his mind fighting with his rationality, being overthrown by nothing more than the addictive scent of your perfume blossoming across the skin on your neck.
he flips you around instantly, your figure now squished between his chest and the bookshelf before he flicks your skirt up with ease, almost territorial like he's the only one allowed to do that from now on, frenziedly touching and loving your body like he needed you to breathe and stay alive, like it's only you who can make him be this way.
"ahh— fuck," he gasps into the back of your neck, his hot breath planing across the skin and manifesting a strong shiver down your spine, "i love those earrings on you," as he trails off, your hips twisting and twitching when he finds them with his hands, repeatedly pistoling his thick shaft into you until the lewd, squelching noises of skin on skin were overturning your little whimpers, smack smack smack, it's only getting louder— so alhaitham uses one hand to quickly close one palm around your noisy mouth.
he thinks it's adorable how you forgot that you were still in a library, yet it only showed him that he was doing everything right, only a little more until you're all his.
the scribe has got you covered, okay? alhaitham needs you to realize that from now on, you have nothing to worry about anymore, so please get that into your pretty head! you're far too delicate and pretty to trouble yourself with something such as stress, not anymore— because wether it was intimacy you craved, love you sought after or money you needed,
alhaitham has got you.
©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham smut#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#alhaitham x you#al haitham x reader#al haitham smut
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Totally Annoying and Not Funny at All
Azriel x reader
<3
Warnings: some swearing and suggestiveness
Word count: 6.7k (I’m so sorry??)
Summary: Azriel finds you annoying and he never laughs at your lame jokes… until he does.
<3
Azriel tried his best to ignore the mumbling that was sounding behind him, tune it out like he did with everything else he didn't want to hear. He sighed rolling his shoulders as he continued to shlep up the uneven rocks.
He had been stuck with you... again. He tried raging against his brother’s order, insisting he could handle a simple recovery mission on his own but Rhys didn't budge, saying, "She's a fine scholar who has studied Marestone for years, with her help you can turn a three day mission into one and a half." But being here, with you, he couldn't help the but wondering on the implications of leaving you here and ditching the mission completely.
It started when you appeared in his doorway as he was getting ready to leave, his shadows alerted him of your presence and he stopped short to give you a hard look. Maybe if he looked mean enough you wouldn't want to go, he knew it wouldn't work but he had to try it anyway.
You let out a low whistle as your eyes tracked up and down his body, "Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You had a devilish smile and your eyes shone with mischief. He just rolled his eyes at the words, the same line every time you see him. Last time you asked if it was a shadow, the time before that a dagger, and the time he was carrying training equipment you asked if it was a fighting dummy.
He didn't speak to you as you sauntered through his room uninvited and landed belly up on his bed, shadows darted around your face and you giggled "at least someone's happy to see me." You pawed at the shadows as they darted through your hands, a little cat and mouse with the naughty shadows that didn't listen when its master tried to call them back.
You rolled over and watched him as he continued to sheath daggers and swords all over his body as the shadows played in your hair. "You know," you started and he rolled his eyes again, knowing it was going to be a repeating offense since he had to spend the next day and a half with you, "The Northwood mountains are relatively safe, I don't think you'll be needing all that hardware."
He didn't have to look over to know you had a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watched him. He just huffed and responded coldly, "You never know." You didn't really and he knew that, you moved through the world like it was your playground and you were put on this planet for the sole reason of having fun, never worrying about the dangers life has to offer. Must be nice not having a dirty past he thought to himself.
You returned the sentiment by huffing in response as well, the only difference of yours was light and airy and not laced with annoyance. "Your right your right," you had opted to rolling back over and kicking your feet as the shadows swished around your ankles, "I hear badgers are particularly dangerous this time of year. I might need you to save me,” you laughed at your own dramatics and Azriel cut a glance in your direction only for his eyes to catch on your feet.
With two stomps he was next to the bed grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, earning and excited wooo from your lips before he threw your feet over the side. “No shoes on the bed,” was all he said before he went back to what he was doing, packing his sack with anything he could possibly need for the overnight trip.
You sat up straight and the shadow moved to curl around your neck like a scarf, “Sorry, I forgot that you’re a neat freak.” You were provoking him and he knew it but he still couldn’t help himself.
“I’m not a- I’m not a neat freak, I’m just not dirty,” his tone was meant to be offensive and he felt his anger rising at the fact that you didn’t take any.
“Pfft, says the guy who notices if his knives have been breathed on… you’d hate to see my room,” you seemed to remember the fact as you said it as you leaned over and started pushing around the things on his bed side table. You smiled at your actions as you could already see his reaction in your mind, meanwhile, a shiver when down Azriel spine. He didn’t even want to imagine your bedroom, the thought made his skin crawl. The one time he was tasked with picking you up from your apartment he saw through the crack in your door that you had clothes, shoes, books, and a bunch of random nick-nacks and toys strewn about haphazardly. “And I prefer to use the term messy. Not dirty.”
He was crossing the floor to the closet to grab his night sack when stopped to readjust his night table and he cut you a glare, “Shoes on the bed is dirty,” he gave you a once over before turning to walk in his closet. You made a face at his back before putting your feet on the bed again and kicking it wildly before moving back quickly as he came out. His shadows danced around you amused and you smiled at them. Laying back on your belly you made sure to keep your toes on the floor as you passed secrets back and forth with the shadows, giggling to yourself.
Azriel pulled the sack over a shoulder and looked over at your ass sticking up in the air, his eyes only lingered for a second but one of his shadows whispered to him, smack it, and with that he used all of his willpower to pull the shadows away from their bad influence. You frowned at the lost of your friend but stood up an asked “Ready Azzy baby?”
He frowned at the stupid nickname, he told you a million times not to use it but at this point he wasn’t sure if you even knew his real name. Looking you over clocking your attire he realized you didn’t have any belongings with you other than a small over the shoulder bag and his face morphed into a smirk at the thought of you sleeping on the ground. Your eyes shone at his reaction as he leaned towards you a whispered, “Don’t call me that.”
You shivered at his proximity and said, “Sir yes sir,” he leaned back and you bit your lip as he rounded you and walked toward the door, “I do as I’m told,” your tone was suggestive and his shadows tore from his grip to dance around your waist.
He didn’t turn but you could hear the smirk on his voice, “What if I told you to keep quiet for the rest of the trip?” He knew you would have some quick quip as to why you wouldn’t but alas a boys gotta try.
The suggestiveness lingered as you said, “Well then I might misbehave,” the shadows found your response amusing as they twisted up your torso but Azriel just responded with the shake of his head.
Now here you both were climbing up the Northwood mountains in search of a cave entrance, you had found two already but a quick sniff told you that it didn’t have what you were looking for. The flight was bearable, you didn’t talk much but when you did he would just fly faster so the wind would drown out your voice, you caught on and opted to spend the flight quietly leaning your head on his shoulder.
Being completely honest you liked Azriel but after your first meeting you knew he didn’t like you and never would, so the quips started off as a defense mechanism but you realized his shadows liked you and they seemed to love your teasing and playfulness so you settled for that; it also helped that Az looked so cute when he’s angry.
If Az was being honest he didn’t totally hate you, you were cute and your wit was unmatched but it was so much easier to act uninterested and distant.
At some point during your hike you were asking Az if he had heard the song that had been looping in your head, “Have you ever heard ‘Pl-“ was cut off by a swift no. You rolled your eyes and droned on and on about how you loved it and it was so amazing. You gave him a sample of what the song sounded like but since their wasn’t any lyrics you were just making noises with your mouth, you definitely weren’t doing the song justice and you knew he would find it terribly annoying but you couldn’t help yourself. You were just about to stop when he sent his shadows to muffle your voice and the act alone fueled you conviction so you kept going.
He had to use his entire mental capacity to force his shadows to quiet you, they didn’t want to because for some unholy reason he couldn’t discern, they liked the sound of your voice. They liked you in general but then again you were the only other person in the world who would talk and interact with them.
The mumbling stopped and he thanked the mother herself as he recalled the shadows that were quieting you but when he didn’t hear your footsteps he whipped around to scan the scene. For a brief second he thought with his luck you might have fallen over the side of the mountain, and he questioned whether that would be good luck or bad.
Instead you were face down in the dirt, he almost laughed at you splayed out on the ground like a starfish but stifled it and he walked over and nudged your arm with his foot. You rolled onto your back and stared directly at the sky, “I fell,” you said simply.
He bit back his laugh again, “Yea?”
“I was wondering how long it would take the Spymaster of the night court to notice, turns out 11 seconds.” He looked off into the distance so you wouldn’t see his smile, regaining control he looked back down but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eye.
He shrugged down at her, “I guess your little friends didn’t see fit to tell me.” You sighed as you held out her hand, Az didn’t put much effort in trying to lift you but when you were dead weight he pulled harder. In that half second that he put all his force into pulling you up you brought your foot to his chest and pushed him over your head causing him to hit the ground with a thud.
You laughed heartily and he just stared at the sky listening to the sound. “Good one,” his voice was flat and that made you laugh harder. Rolling over you propped yourself up with your arms to witness the damage, it was his turn to be splayed like a starfish and you laughed so hard you thought your stomach would bust.
He tilted his head back to catch a glimpse and your smile was so broad he wondered if your cheeks hurt. He turned back to the sky and clocked the myriad of colors that dusted it, he had probably about an hour until sunset. He also propped himself up and scanned his surroundings once again, his shadows read his mind and told him this was as good of a place he would find to make camp. “It’s getting late, we should probably set up camp for the night.”
You moved to sit with your legs crossed and face the man who had his back to you. “Okay! What should I do?” Your not a camper, in fact you’ve never slept outside of a well established shelter with heating and cozy beds. For some reason when Rhys told you the trip would be overnight it didn’t even cross your mind that you would be sleeping outside.
“How about you just sit there and look pretty,” Az said as he got up and dusted himself off. You smiled at that, not only was it as close to a jest as he’s ever gotten but it’s also the closest to a compliment.
“Well I can definitely do that,” you leaned back onto the ground using our arm as cushions as watched the clouds glow as they moved across the painted sky. Azriel got to work, he collected sticks and logs to build a cozy little fire and catching a couple of small rabbits for food. He rummaged through his sack to pull out a pan and a pack of veggies to heat up with the meat before he pulled out his sack and tossed it to the side to unfold later.
When you smelled the food cooking you perked up and moved to crouch next to him and watch; you hadn’t even realized you were hungry until the smell hit. He looked at you out of the side of his eye, you were practically drooling as you stared at the food meant solely for him.
“I take it you didn’t pack any food,” he knew you didn’t, that’s why he caught the extra rabbits, he practically had magical foresight when it came to you. A vision of you begging for some of his food had him laughing to himself as his shadows did the hard work of catching the small creatures.
You purses your lips in thought before, “Oh!” You rummaged through your small bag and pulled out a baggie mixed with nuts, berries, and chocolates. “I brought trail mix, I’ll share if you do,” you sung the last part as you shook the baggie near his face.
He pushed the bag away lightly while shaking his head, “Fine. But I only like the chocolates,” it was a lie, he liked nuts and berries too but he had a feeling the chocolates were your favorite part so he opted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You grunted as you plopped down on your butt and mumbled a fine, whatever mostly to yourself. He smiled knowing you couldn’t see it as he finished cooking.
You two mostly ate in silence other than you offering up random facts about whatever popped in your head like how wombats poop squares or how peanuts can be used to make explosives. Azriel just nodded at whatever you said not admitting out loud what he didn’t know or what he found interesting. He offered you some of his water which turned out to be a mistake as you drank over half of it, he thanked his gift of foresight that told him to pack multiple canteens.
When you guys finished eating you both brushed your teeth with what was left of the water and Azriel was glad you at least packed your toothbrush even though you forgot toothpaste. Twilight was upon you when you finished, he rinsed off the dirty pan with the second canteen and shoved it to the bottom of his bag before rolling out his sleep sack. The corner of his eye caught you watching, awkwardly sat on your hands, lips pursed like you wanted to speak but were holding yourself back.
“Don’t even ask,” he said without looking at you as he slipped off his boots and the top layer of leather to reveal a tight fitted gray long sleeve.
“Oh come on! You don’t even have a second blanket?” When Az shook his head you groaned heavily, he made a slick comment about preparing better for overnight trips and you shook your head as you pulled your knees in close. “I didn’t know we’d be sleeping outside, I guess I assumed we’d have beds out here.”
“Oh yea,” Az said he climbed in, “Most mountains have rooms you can rent out, with heating and plumbing too. This one must just be defective.”
You couldn’t even be mad, he was making jokes, for the first time since you met him. All of your chipping must’ve cracked his icy exterior enough to make him open to shoot quips back at you. You thought about what else you might be able to pull from him as you curled into yourself on the hard ground with only your arm as a pillow.
It didn’t take long for the temperature to drop after the sun was completely gone and with the wind picking up the now small fire wasn’t doing much to help. Azriel couldn’t get to sleep, not with his shadows buzzing in his ear, she’s freezing, her lips are turning blue, she can’t feel her fingers. Not to mention your teeth chattering so hard he thought he would soon hear a crack. He got up and moved over to where you were attempting and failing to sleep and nudges your arm with his foot.
You rolled over to look at him and your lips were in fact tinged with blue, part of him felt bad at the sight as he purposely left his blankets just to spite you. “Go sleep in my sack.”
“Are you sure, what about you?” You sat up and looked at him to make sure he was serious, the light from the moon that shone on his face didn’t illuminate any semblance of a joke.
“I’ll be fine. It’s like you always say, I’m super hot,” you laughed at his words as you quickly moved to his sack.
“Thank you Azzy baby!” You called as you slipped off you shoes and windbreaker before sliding in, it was warm and it smelled like him and you let out a soft moan as you instantly felt warmer.
Az had wrapped his wings around himself in an attempt to make a barrier and the more he sat there the worse he felt for leaving you to the elements. You knew that despite what he said he would be just as freezing as you just were and you debated for a few minutes before speaking.
“You know this sack is big enough for two people,” you knew he was awake but when he didn’t answer you tried again, trying your hardest not to sound like a desperate creep, “I’m just saying, body heat will reduce the amount of heat loss. Survival 101.”
Az was freezing but he sat for a second as he debated whether or not to climb into that sack, how annoying could you be in your sleep? When a gust of wind blew against his back he just said screw it and silently made his way to you. He kicked off the untied boots before climbing in with you.
You kept your self from immediately scooting towards his warmth and let him get comfortable first. In a true gentlemanly fashion he offered his arm as a pillow and you silently swooned as you accepted it, he also brought he wing down over your body and it acted like a second blanket. Snaking your arms around his waist you tangled your legs with his and to your suprise he never stoped you or pulled away, in fact his other arm was secured around your middle. With his warmth and his smell shrouding you, you fell asleep quick and easy, much better than any bed.
Az didn’t sleep so easy, your body pressed to him was indeed keeping him warm but he wasn’t used to sleeping with someone like this. He had his share of lovers but he was never a cuddler and it didn’t help that you moved around a lot in your sleep, kicking him occasionally. With the moon higher above your heads he looked down at your sleeping face.
Though you still were finding a way to annoy him in your sleep, your state had him softening. Your skin looked so soft and pristine in the light from the moon and the hair pooled around your head glowed like a halo. You plump lips were slightly parted and you produced a light snore that had Az smiling to himself. He brought a scarred hand to caress the skin on your cheek while the arm that you layed on bent so he could twirled your hair, you let out a happy moan at the contact and he smiled as his hand took on a mind of its on. Trailing you from your cheek to your jaw, down the column of your neck and back up to swipe the soft skin of your lips.
You shifted and turned, he brought his hand back afraid he woke you, but when you just nuzzled your face deep into his chest he felt his heart jump. You inhaled his scent deeply and that seemed to settle your restlessness, his jumping heart felt a tug and he froze for a second. Looking down at you he couldn’t believe it, he felt around his heart and it wasn’t snapped but he was sure it was there.
“No,” he breathed as he looked at you wrapped around his body, “no way.” His shadows seemed excited by the revelation as they chanted yes, yes, yes, like they already knew. He wondered if the bond snapped for you already and that’s what you had been whispering to his shadows about, the thought made him shiver. He had been so cold and distasteful, you were a good fae and deserved better than that, you deserved a male who laughed at every stupid joke.
You registered his shiver in your sleep pulling him tighter to you and the simple thoughtless action made his eyes prickle. He held you tightly, memorizing the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. He held back his tears by inhaling your scent of honeysuckle and roasted wood, with a gentle kiss on your brow he closed his eyes and promised his nosey shadows that he would be nice tomorrow.
-
Az was still asleep when you woke up, you didn’t want to move and even if you did you were trapped by his strong arm and wing. But you were content to stay like this forever, gazing up at his sleeping face. His tan skin was smooth and his nose and cheekbones were decorated with freckles, you brought your hand up to hover over his face, ghosting over the lines and ridges. His hair was tousled from sleep, falling like dominoes across his forehead and his plump lips were pouting . You let out a deep sigh as you pulled your hand back, why do you torture yourself this way. You wiggled around attempting to move away from him but your efforts were futile when his arm pulled you tighter to his body, he grunted as he turned his head to nuzzle into your hair.
Your stomach was doing flips at the action and you had to remind yourself he was asleep, the action was subconscious. You pulled your head back and laid your face inches from his and watched him breathe. His long eyelashes fluttered open and the first thing his golden eyes caught was you, the faint ghost of a smile touched his lips as his eyes roamed over your face. You smiled bright at him, “Good morning shadowsinger, is that a breakfast sausage in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
For the first time since you met him he chuckled lowly as he rolled on his back and stretched his arms behind his and, “aaand you ruined it.” You laughed as he watched you from the corner of his eyes and you sat up to looked directly at him. He must be in a good mood because he wasn’t scowling at you, in fact his face had an ease you’d never seen, he was positively yummy in his sleepy daze.
“My bad,” it was your turn to stretch since you were finally free from his iron grasp though his wing stayed splayed across your legs, “didn’t know there was anything to ruin.”
Az brought his fingers up to grab the ends of your hair, mindlessly twirling it around his fingers while you did the same to his shadows that excitedly came to greet you, “Your actually bareable when you sleep, you don’t talk and ruin it.” He meant his word as a joke but something clicked for you. Azriel is quiet and calm, he would probably prefer someone like him, maybe if you weren’t always badgering him for attention he could reciprocate your feelings. “Except for the fact that you’re a kicker.”
You laughed as his shadows danced away and you leaned back against your hand to look at his face again “Yea I probably should have warned you, my sisters refuse to share a bed with me for that exact reason.” When he didn’t look away or move your turned your attention back to your hands, the softness in his eyes was too much and you worried for your conviction. You reached out a finger to dance across the top of his wing which instantly retracted at your touch. He grunted as he moved to sit up, “Im sorry, I didn’t- I shouldn’t have-“
“Its fine,” He shook his head as he pushed the top of the sack off his body and made a move for his shoes, “I just don’t want to hear any more breakfast sausage jokes.” He smirked over his shoulder and you blushed at his suggestive tone, only able to nod as you noted the sensitivity of Illyrian wings. You pushed yourself up and grabbed your shoes as well before getting ready to hike again.
When your teeth were brushed, hair tied, and you finished reliving yourself Az had successfully packed up the rest of the camp as stood waiting for you. You began your hike and this time you remembered to keep your mouth shut, no suggestive jokes, no terrible singing, and no random facts. Just silence as you found another cave that didn’t have the distinct smell you were looking for. “I think we need to be higher up,” You said as you craned your neck to look up the mighty mountain that still lied ahead, “You could fly us up there and we could work our way down.”
He adjusting the sack on his shoulder and looked at you like you had a secret he was trying to figure out, after a few seconds of you shifting under his gaze he spoke, “Its fine,” he followed you eyes up the mountain, “I don’t mind walking.”
“Well I do,” you huffed walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the mountain, “my feet are killing me and I’d rather have a real bed tonight.” You didn’t mean for the first time you spoke since this morning to have a bite to it but you couldn’t help it, forcing yourself to shut up all day was like shaking up a beehive and then telling them they have to remain calm. You were buzzing under the surface but you hoped he would write it off as crankiness. Az got the message and just nodded, he scooped up your legs and shot into the air. You watched his powerful wings that your fingers itched to touch, instead you pressed your mouth to his shoulder and watched silently.
He landed near the top where the safe part of the trail ended and when he started walking without putting you down you pulled back to look at him, “You can put me down now.” He smirked at your words and tossed you up slightly to readjust you tighter against him.
“You don’t want to walk, I don’t mind walking,” he shrugged against you and you wanted to say ‘if you like me just say that’ but you bit your tongue as you were determined not to be annoying today. You just shook your head and put your mouth back to his shoulder, watching the sky over his back. “What? No comment?” When you shook your head he chuckled airily, “Must be my lucky day,” you could hear the smile in his voice and you just closed your eyes shaking your head lightly.
Az had tried to talk to you a couple times, recalling random facts you’ve told him or telling you his own. Each time you would either have a short response or just hum, channeling him and the way he reacted to you. You figured whatever your doing must’ve been working as he seemed much lighter and happier today, that hurt a deep part of you.
Az knew there was something wrong, you weren’t you, but he figured you must’ve been tired or cranky from the uncomfortable sleeping situation and all the walking. You were a scholar used to plushy couches and central air, you were totally out of your element. He eventually stopped trying so hard to get you to talk, he wanted to be good to you and that included reading the signs and not prying.
Eventually he came across a cave and when you hopped out of his arms and smelled the inside you were hit with the smell of rotten milk, you were in the right place. You beckoned him and as soon as he stepped in he started waving his hand in front of his nose, “Wooo, smells like Cass after too much dairy.” You bit your lip to hide your chuckle as you continued deeper into the cave, “Oh come on, that’s totally something you would say, I don’t even get a chuckle?”
Without turning around you just said “Ha ha,” in as stale of a voice you could muster, “Your almost as funny as me.”
Az’s small laugh echoed off the cave and your stomach turned as you memorized the formula; don’t speak too much, make jokes when prompted, keep a cool demeanor like him. “There she is,” he mused, and before he could go on you spoke.
“And there it is,” the smell was so pungent it was like the glass of toxic milk was right under your nose. You pointed up and thought a small whole in the ceiling there was sparkling lights shining through. Marestone despite its awful smell had a beautiful luminosity and many applications, it was embude I’m most magical technology as well as cured to be used in different medicines. The potent material would last for years as a single rock could be split between a hundred different uses.
“Give me a boost,” you said putting your hand on his shoulder and lifting your leg for him, he just looked at you dumbly.
“I’m not sending you up there,” he shook his head and moved your hand.
“Well your not gonna fit,” when he cut you a look your raised your hands defensively, you both knew it was true. There’s no way the big Illyrian warrior with the mega wingspan was fitting through that hole.
“Okay and what happens when you fall? Or the integrity of the cave gives out under you?” He put his hands on his hips in a mock attempt to show sincerity and you matched his movement.
“Ye of little faith,” you said wagging a finger, he just smiled. “Are you trying to extend this trip by another day? They grow on the ceiling, it’ll take forever to find another cave with rocks lower down.”
He just shrugged, “Okay,” he turned to walk away and your attempt to stay cool was thwarted when you groaned loudly.
“Fine, if you won’t help me up I’ll find my own way,” you started pawing at the cave wall, trying to find any wholes or cracks you could use to pull yourself up.
“Okay okay, with my luck you’ll kill yourself trying,” he came over and put his hands on your waist as he guided you away from the cave wall and easily lifted you up towards the whole. When that didn’t work he sat you on his shoulder before lifting you again at the knees, you stretched to reach through the whole and hoisted yourself up, sitting on the edge you had your feet dangling down towards Azriel who kept a hand on your ankle and watched from below.
You pulled out one of the four sealed canister and began pulling the soft rock out of the ceiling and filling it up. It didn’t take long to fill up the first, second, and third canister. The fourth is where you ran into trouble, you’d grabbed all the stone close to you so the rest was slightly out of reach. You pulled your ankle out of Azriel grasp and placed in on the other side of the hole as you stretched your body to reach the stones.
The canister was nearly full when your foot slid, “Are you okay? Can you reach it?” You called out letting him know you were fine and almost done, you moved to grab the last bit you could see when your foot slipped completely and the force dragged your body out of the whole.
Like the knight in shining armor he his Az caught you before you could hit the floor, clutching the glowing canister to your chest you stared up at him in awe. Sure, he would’ve caught anyone that fell but the way his arms were tight around you and his breathing ragged as he searched your face had your heart lurching.
When he caught you it snapped fully for him, you were his mate and there was no denying it. He felt like time slowed and all he could do was stare at your face, memorizing everything he missed before. He pulled on the bond and felt it was one sided and that caused his heart to surge, all of your flirting was because you wanted to and not because of a premature snapping of the bond.
Clearing your throat you jumped out of his arms and dusted yourself off before tucking the canister away. You mumbled your thanks before moving to the exit of the cave.
“Thanks?” He said genuinely sounding confused as he followed you, “No swooning and calling me ‘your hero,’” mocking your voice on the last part which earned him a scoff from you.
“I do know how to be serious Azriel”
“Yea but why would you want to? And since when do you use my real name?”
“Because I don’t want to make this trip miserable for you, and that was a stupid nickname anyway.” You squinted and used your hand as a shield when you stepped back in the sun, Az on your heels.
“Miser- what are you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him but you couldn’t meet his eyes so you just shook your head and looked down.
“Nothing, it’s- it’s nothing at all,” you tried to pull your wrist back but his grip was like iron. Your breath hitched when an unexpected and gentle hand traced your jaw and stopped at your chin, lifting your head up and bringing your eyes to his golden ones.
“If it’s making you upset then it’s not nothing,” his hand slipped to cup your cheek and your delusion allowed you to lean into the touch, reveling in its warmth. Your eyes fluttered closed and for a blissful second you let yourself believe he cared, “Talk to me baby.”
The pet name had your eyes flying open and suddenly the spell was broken, you pulled his hand away and pushed him back. The hope his simple actions had given you had you biting back tears, “Don’t call me baby. I’m not a child that needs coddling,” you spat out your words like poison on your tongue
“No I’m not-“ he tried to step forward but you matched him with a step back.
“I know Azriel, I know you don’t like me. I know you find me unbearable and annoying. I know you can never like me for who I truly am,” the tears were getting harder to push back, “Today when I acted different you seemed so much happier but that hurts more- it hurts more than your cold glares because I like you. Every since I met you all I’ve wanted is to make you laugh but-“ you were cut off by your own hiccup and your balled fist came up to wipe your tears but his shadows beat you to it.
Like a flash of lightning he was on you, cupping your cheeks and staring with wide, scared eyes. “No, no, no,” his words were soft when he tilted his forehead down to meet yours, your hands instinctively tried to pull on his wrists but he held true.
“Baby,” his low voice called to you and you closed your eyes tight as more tears fell, “Baby please don’t cry. I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Your eyes opened again when his voice cracked and you could see he had his own tears he was fighting to keep at bay. You never thought you would see him look so sad, so broken.
“I was so mean to you, I tried to block you out and push you away because you’re everything I’m not. Your bright and fun and so damn happy, I couldn’t figure out what you saw in me and the fact that you even liked me so brazenly made me hate you- but not because of you or who you are but because of me and all of the shit I’ve spent centuries running from.
“You are not the one who has to change, I am. I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel like the real you wasn’t good enough, it’s so much more than enough. I’ll spend forever proving it to you.”
Tears were still clouding your vision so you blinked quickly to let them fall before you brought your hands to his face, moving your head back so you could inspect him. He was serious, and that made your heart jump like it was trying to leave your chest and fly into his. You just shook your head when you brought his lips down to yours.
It was like throwing fresh meat to starving lions, the originally soft kiss dissolved into a mess of frenzied passion and primal hunger. His hand tangled into your hair pulling your head in while the other pressed your bodies together firmly before tracking the curves of your body. Your hands were just as wild as they moved between pulling the hair on his nape to clawing his shoulders and neck. When his tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, it snapped.
You flew back out of his grasp and stared as your one hand felt the lips that were now swollen and the other was on your heart that was now being pulled towards the man in front of you- to your mate. Azriel was your mate. You almost didn’t believe it, tugging on the bond to make sure it was real. A laugh left your lips when he tugged back, twice. Stepping back into his arms you kissed him again, slower this time as you memorized the way your lips molded together.
“You’re my mate,” you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He smiled down and nodded, you were grinning like a kid in a candy store. From the moment you met him he was all you ever wanted and now you could feel the bond that tied your hearts together, the string that always pulled you to him even before you knew of its existence. You wished you could find the mother and thank her personally for the blessing that was looking down at you with pure unbridled love and sending his feelings of adoration down the bond.
“That is if you’ll have me,” his arms circled your waist and his nose moved to the column of your neck, brushing up and down as he breathed you deep into his lungs. He hummed lightly before going on, “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?”
You smiled to yourself, “I don’t know Azzy baby, I think you’re going to have to make it up to me.” A playful growl bubbled up as he lightly nipped your throat, earning him a surprised yelp.
You ended up feeding him some of the trail mix you made and the frenzy kicked in at your newly accepted bond. It’s safe to say you two didn’t make it home that night, or any night for the next month as you basked in the joys of being mated.
A/N: AHHHHHHHHHH my first fic😭
It felt a little rushed and slightly juvenile but I had so much fun writing her. I hope if you enjoyed it and if you hated it… no you didn’t tf?
Lols but srsly I love genuine feedback and if you got this far I LOVE YOU!!
Masterlist
#acotar azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel one shot#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#acosf#acowar#acomaf#acofas#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfiction#acotar fanfic#azriel spymaster#acotar oneshot#azriel fluff#azriel fic
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⊱ L𖦹VERヾ‧₊
𖦹 pairing: earth 42!Miles morales x reader
𖦹 summary: you were stunned at the fact that Miles willingly pays for everything and anything you want because you were usually the one who paid for stuff in your last relationship.
𖦹 request made by: @fictarian
𖦹 author's note: my bad guys for not posting I just got lazy tbh LMAOOO 🤑
“Mami, I'm your boyfriend, let me pay for you. What's wrong with a little princess treatment for my princesa?"
If anybody told you that the one and only Miles Morales, the Miles that every girl in your school would fall head over heels for, would start dating you, you'd laugh in their face.
“Miles it's okay, they're my stuff so I'm paying for it with my money.” you frowned at him while having your card in your hand.
Miles rolled his eyes and lifted your chin up with his hand to make you look straight at him.
“Just let me spoil my girl, alright?” Miles grinned at you which displayed his dimples that he swore he hated.
You stood there lost for words as Miles tapped his card on the machine, paying for everything you brought up to the counter.
The cashier handed him the big paper bag as Miles thanked them before grabbing a hold of your hand. “Come on mami, where else do you wanna go?”
Miles guided you outside the store and started walking down the mall, looking around for what stores you might want to stop by next.
You squeezed his hand making Miles look at you with his eyebrow raised up in confusion. “What's wrong?”
You looked down at the heavy bags he was carrying which made Miles huff after figuring out what was bothering you again.
“I promise, on my life that it's completely fine. Don't worry about it mi niña hermosa (my beautiful girl)”
You sighed in defeat and rested your head on his shoulder as Miles wrapped one arm around your waist, hand resting on your hip while you two continued to walk down the well lit mall.
“It's just that I'm used to always being the one to pay for stuff. Having the roles switched around is not normal for me.”
You looked up at him only to see that he already had his eyes set on you. You smiled seeing that his pupils had blown wide signaling that he was truly in love with you.
Miles had his signature smirk on his face that complimented his freckles well.
“Better get used to it then mami.” Miles said as his hand on your waist tightened while he went in to kiss your cheek.
“Cause as long as I'm with you, you don't even need to bring your wallet.”
#across the spiderverse#atsv#miles morales#atsv imagines#earth42 miles#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth42 miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n
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technically the first proper introduction into the charles and blitz world despite how much we talk about them!!
series masterlist
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“If you die, can I get your Pista?”
Charles lifted his head, shooting you an unimpressed look.
“What? I just thought we should cover all bases,” you defended, knocking your shoulder against his.
You knew exactly what was going through his head. You knew he was overthinking the whole thing, making up the worst assumptions and how it could affect the time he would have to take off training. You knew he was working himself up like he tended to do, falling silent and allowing his only company to be himself.
It was the exact reason you insisted on coming with him.
“And out of everything I own, you want my car?” Charles questioned, his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah well, you treat that thing like your baby—minus the parking skills,” you said with an innocent smile spread across your face. “Surely that makes me a step-mother or some sort of parental figure.”
“The way your brain works amazes me every day,” he murmured with a shake of his head.
“You love me,” you sang, nudging his shoulder once again and, this time, he lifted his arm to wrap it around your shoulder.
“Unfortunately, I do. Even when you’ve started planning for my death before I go into surgery,” he mused, but you could hear the underlying hint of fear. The one he didn’t really want to admit, but the one that you saw as clear as day anyways.
“Everything is gonna be fine,” you reassured him and lightly squeezed his knee. “Who else am I gonna look down on the top step of the podium if not you?”
He rolled his eyes. “It is truly a miracle I love you.”
“I’m the best thing in your life and you know it, Leclerc,” you countered, poking his side.
Charles’ face softened. “Yeah, you are.”
“Charles Leclerc!”
He turned to look at the nurse who was waiting for him by the doors, a kind and welcoming smile on her face. You watched the way his face dropped a little, the way his body tensed against yours and you squeezed his knee again.
“You’re coming back to me, Charlie. It’ll be fine.”
…
“Tu es si jolie, mon amour.”
*You are so pretty, my love.
“English, Charlie. My French is lacklustre at best.”
“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!”
*You are the love of my life!
You sighed deeply, taking a glance at the boy in the passenger seat of the car. He had a lovesick smile on his face, his cheeks flushed pink and a little bit of drool on the edge of his mouth. He looked adorable—and fucking hilarious if the pictures you sent to his brothers were anything.
However, since the second he had woken up from the procedure, Charles seemed adamant on only rambling your ear off in French. No Italian or English to be heard. Just French. Just the one damn language that you were hopeless in, despite the many years you knew the Monegasque.
“J’ai hâte de t’épouser,” he sighed dreamily as he stared at you with an expression that made your chest tighten.
*I can’t wait to marry you
“I don’t know what you said but me too, buddy,” you said as you reached over to softly pat his thigh.
However, the boy was one step ahead of you and quickly grabbed your hand to intertwine with his own.
“Regarder!” He giggled, holding your joined hands up proudly. “Nous sommes connectés pour toujours maintenant!”
*Look! We are connected forever now!
“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you commented, fighting the odd urge to bite back a smile even when you had no understanding of what he said. “I might need to call your mother if you keep up this whole French act.”
“Oui, appelle-la! C’est aussi ta famille, mon amour!” Charles nodded.
*Yes, call her! She is your family too, my love!
“You know, these embarrassing videos don’t work if even I don’t understand them,” you added, shooting him a look but he just smiled back at you, and you couldn’t really be mad at that.
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#charles leclerc#formula one#f1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”
And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.
And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.
Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”
Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…
Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.
He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.
For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.
Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”
So he just keeps hugging back.
Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.
“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.
Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”
Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.
Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”
“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”
Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.
Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”
Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.
“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.
It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”
For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.
Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”
And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.
Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.
And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.
He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.
Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.
“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.
Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.
“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.
And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.
#i just love writing perceptive Dustin#think it’s partly the thought that “you’re my brother and I love all of you”#steddie with dustin’s pov#dustin henderson fic#steve and dustin#eddie and dustin#steddie#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#implied steddie#steve x eddie#dustin henderson ficlet#dustin henderson#steve harrington#eddie munson#henderfam
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Telling Felix Catton you’re pregnant <333
Felix Catton (Saltburn) x fem! Reader headcanons xo
AN: hiiii these are some headcanons I made :p im too lazy to proofread Dx if you enjoy lmk if you want part 2! Blink twice and you’ll miss the smut xx
- first of all, your relationship started out as a one night stand situation because for the love of God Felix cannot keep a woman or anyone around for more than a few months—weeks even.
- You, however, were a different situation. He saw other people, you saw other people, but the two of you always kept each other locked in the back of both of your heads. Wether you needed him as a very exciting stress reliever or he needed you to release any ounce of frustration he had, the two of you were just a simple phone call away. And not just drunk booty calls.
- The feeling of his broad shoulders pressed against your frame as he would effortlessly lift you up and pin you to the wall, whispering sweet melodies into your ears as he thrusted with all of his might to make you feel good—no, more than good. He’d never admit it, but for a girl like you, he’d give you everything, even if meant he’d have nothing. “Such a good girl,” he’d purr, feeling you melt under the sound—and for a better word, control of his asserting voice
- The two of you lovebirds were loud, extremely noisy and often torturous for the other students near your dorm, who were either trying to cram for exams or focus on non-sexual activities. You would moan without a care in the world and especially when you felt him release his seed in you for the first time, which you could only assume wasn’t planned nor talked about between the two of you. It felt too sweet, and so pure with how he breathlessly smiled at your sweaty, blushing face after the deed was done. Said smile being enough to make you fall into his little trap and roll back over into another intense round of sex
- With Felix, it was like walking on a dream that never seemed to end. You could be careless, indiscreet and whatever the hell you wanted to be. he provided you with a sense of being free from the real world and wholeheartedly invited you deep into the unrealistic life of Felix Catton.
- That dream, the very one that appeared to be endless, came crashing down. What ruined it? Two little pink lines.
- With an eyebrow piercing that adults despised, a stunning model-like body, and a reputation for tossing girls around like they were paper planes; Felix was fuck buddy material, not father material.
- Sure, he has enough money to knock you up ten times and make sure every child would be provided for, but you were you. Yes, you came from wealth but not the type of catton wealth that would probably leave a child with a ridiculously expensive live-in nanny as if it was nothing. Knowing how your parents felt, there was no way in hell they would be supportive and even just the simple thought of them meeting Felix made you cringe to the point of triggering your morning sickness again.
- You would avoid Felix like the plague you read about in your boring history textbooks and on the rare occurrence you ran into him heading out on his bike or going for a well deserved drink, you would bolt as if you had to run for your life. Facing him was just the beginning of your problems
- So when you finally mustered the courage to tell him and unfortunately for you, it had to be at the university’s sleazy lounge pub, Felix was there in all his glory and sat in his usual spot. Farleigh seemed more interested in drinking than caring about what was being said, a group of girls were scattered around the boys and obnoxiously fake laughed at whatever Felix said, and there was that new guy whose name you couldn’t remember to save your life. Oliver? You thought it was, but that clearly didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was you and Felix.
- Felix nearly chokes on his drink seeing you walk towards him, your head down and your tail between your legs. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
- You ask him to talk immediately, ignoring how content he looks. How his solemn eyes instantly sparked with life again and his bored expression turned into a relish of happiness. He was thrilled.
- “I’m pregnant.”
- He stares blankly at you, seeing you tear up as if you just admitted something horrible
- A baby? And a baby with you? Nothing about that was horrible. In fact, he often pictured a future with you, even if it seemed insane.
- i he’s not angry. In fact his thick brows soften and somehow in the midst of all the chaos of noise surrounding the two of you, his words are very clear.
- “I’m glad it’s with you.”
#jacob elordi#saltburn#felix catton smut#felix catton#felix catton x reader#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x you#saltburn 2023
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