#like at this point they're stupid but even if they weren't i don't care if i'm wrong bc THEY'RE coming from a gross place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bo0tleg · 2 months

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One thing I like about Top Gun (1986) is how believable the development with Ice and Mav's dynamic is.

I've seen a lot of the "Rivals suddenly become buddies after traumatic event together" in media, but I don't think I've seen it done better than in Top Gun. Mostly, I attribute it to how much build up it has.

Most of the time, the 'Rivals' hate each others guts throughout the entire movie/series and then they go through an extremely traumatic event that binds them for life and shifts their entire concept of each other. Ice and Mav never once changed how they saw each other, it just changed their understanding of it.

Ice saw Maverick as dangerous and Mav saw Iceman as stuck-up and commanding. And they weren't wrong, by any means.

From the beginning, they have tension between them because of how different they are. And it ends up in the audience seeing Ice as the 'Antagonist' because that's how Mav sees it, and we're seeing it from his perspective as the protagonist. But Ice was never inherently wrong, in fact he was right.

Other than his first scene, Iceman always has a point in what he's saying. He's criticizing Mav, not insulting him. Sure, he does it in a brash way because masculinity, but he's not trying to insult him, he's trying to knock him down a peg and wake him up to reality. All Ice wants is that he starts to act as a team player, start caring about everybody's safety AND his own, rather than being reckless for the sake of being reckless. But Mav sees it as an insult because he can't process criticism in a healthy way (due to how he grew up). The same thing happened with Charlie, for the record.

And so the strife between the two begins. What I like about it is how it bleeds out of them over time, becoming more settled as the movie goes on. In the locker room "You're dangerous" scene, the tension is palpable. It's obvious they're agitated by each other, and feel the need to prove they're the correct one.

If you pay attention, this whole... demand for superiority goes away as time progresses. They're fine with each other's presence, it's not like they're constantly at each others throat all the time. In the shower scene, Ice dropped all of the aggression and competitiveness from his tone and is instead just laying out what he thinks. He's not undermining Maverick, he's not lecturing him like a child. Iceman is just telling Maverick exactly how he sees the situation in hopes that it would make him realize what the fuck he's doing, but with little hope that it'll actually work.

That doesn't mean Ice is always correct either, he doesn't understand why Mav acts the way he does, thus fails to take into consideration the emotional trauma behind it. Which only causes even more strife.

The entire time, Iceman isn't being a dick for the sake of it, he just wants Mav to stop being stupid (by his standards). And Maverick doesn't understand it because all he gets from what Ice says is insults.

Maverick isn't good at understanding what people mean to say if it's implied, you need to say it to his face. This is the reason he stayed quiet in the shower scene, because Ice finally laid everything out in simple words that he can understand without making it sound like a dick-measuring contest.

Thing is, the tension mellows out. At the beginning, you could see the tension and cut it with a knife. By the middle you can see them getting used to each other without jumping to constantly trade jabs (namely: the volleyball scene, it's just a bunch of guys being dudes, and the scene where Charlie says that Mav flew recklessly in front of the whole class, Ice doesn't comment on it in any way). Over time, they've settled down into their tension without needing to address it all the time.

Then Goose dies.

And the tension between them is still there.

Just because Goose isn't there anymore, doesn't mean their whole dynamic vanishes all of a sudden. You can see their hesitation towards each other (especially Ice), and that's great! It demonstrates that Goose dying doesn't magically resolve their problems with each other in solidarity.

Ice tried to give his consolations to Mav, and is awfully awkward about it. You can see on his face that he wants to say more, but doesn't because he knows it's not his place given their history. And not much is said, but a lot it communicated. (Val Kilmer is a killer actor for this, OH MY FUCKING GOD BLESS THAT MAN)

Even in the graduation scene you can see how out of their depts they really are with each other. A stilted congratulations, that was it. But they're trying, and that's what matters.

A scene I think gets overlooked a lot is the scene right before the Layton, where Ice expressed his worries about Mav to Stinger, and Mav heard him. Because I feel like that was a shift that was more drastic than the Layton itself for them.

What Ice was doing in that scene wasn't doubting Maverick's flying abilities, it was his mental health. Sure, he passed the psych eval, but that means next to jack shit when in a real combat situation so close after his backseater dying. And Ice might be worried that he's gonna be left hanging, but with the way he was speaking I'm more inclined to believe he was more worried about Maverick's wellbeing than himself. Ice almost looked resigned. He knew it was gonna get dismissed because that's the military for you, but he still wanted to try to vouch for Mav to stay groundside, if only to keep his mind at bay.

But Maverick heard him, and as usual, he read it as an insult. He wasn't wrong to assume Ice didn't believe him capable of flying the mission, which wouldn't be a lie, but failed to realize that he had more than one reason to want Maverick on the ground rather than in the air. And for the first time, Maverick believes him.

Up until this point, Mav dismissed all of Ice's so called 'insults' because he was certain in and of himself. But now he isn't anymore.

And it affects his performance in the air. I'm not saying he was as shitty as he was at the start of that combat because of what he overheard, but I am saying that it certainly didn't help matters in the slightest.

So their weird 'stepping-on-eggshells' situation is all over the place by that point. Because they started to care about each other despite not being what one would call proper friends yet. It's establishing a potential friendship by implying that 1. Ice cares about Mav's wellbeing and 2. Mav cares about what Ice thinks.

On the ground, they have the wingman exchange, and their suddenly buddy buddy. Thing is, it wasn't sudden at all.

They've been setting this up the entire fucking movie.

Going back to what I said at the beginning: Ice thinks Mav is dangerous and Mav thinks Ice is stuck-up and controlling. After the Layton, they still think those things because they weren't wrong to begin with. What changed was that instead of seeing it as something that pitted them against each other, it was seen as something that simply was about the other, and that there was no changing it. It could be good.

Mav being dangerous could be good and Ice being stuck-up and controlling could be good, because those were just traits of who they were. By the end of the movie they didn't change how they saw each other, just how they interpreted each other.

And it was built up during the entire fucking movie.

There was a reason to why they acted the way they did with each other because of the stilted interpretation they had of each other. From rivalry to friendship (and perhaps more later down the line), it's glaringly obvious throughout that it wasn't a sudden shift, it was exponential.

That's why I think it was so well developed, because you could see it coming.

#I implied that Mav is autistic here and there because yes #i just love them your honor #this is what I call good writing folks #take notes #top gun #tg86 #icemav #iceman x maverick #top gun iceman #tom iceman kazansky #iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #top gun 1986

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appocalipse · 2 months

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something good ⋆ bucky barnes

summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him. that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...

"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."

Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.

"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."

The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.

Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.

He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.

And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.

To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.

So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—

"Are you mad at me?"

You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.

"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"

Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.

"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."

"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."

He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"

Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.

"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."

"Danced with the rest of them?"

You nod silently.

Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."

"Okay..."

"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"

"Is there somebody else?"

The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.

"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"

"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.

You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.

"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"

"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."

"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"

"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.

"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."

"Since when?"

Since I met you.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

"I just wondered."

"Okay, fine."

You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.

"Wait, just—"

He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.

You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.

Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.

"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.

His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Do you not want me to...?"

He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.

You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."

"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."

"Before what came to this?"

"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."

You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.

"Bucky..."

"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"

A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."

"It could've been nice, you and me."

"I think it could have been."

"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."

"Like...Steve?"

It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."

The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...

"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."

"You gonna be waiting for me?"

You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"

The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.

You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"

"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."

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fairyumii · 1 month

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just a little stsg drabble i did for you guys <33

"Sugu! Look its a girl!"

"Satoru, are you stupid? You can't point at people its impolite!"

"Why is it just sitting there"

"I think she's crying.."

"Awww~, who made you cry?"

you just stared at them dumbfounded, you weren't even crying, you were lying on the grass as they hovered over you

"OH MY GOSH SUGU SHES SITTING UP"

"OH MY GOD SATORU SHUT THE HELL UP YOU'RE SCARING HER"

you carefully sat up and stared up at them

"H-hi!"

"Aww~! Your voice is so pretty. My name's Gojo !"

"My names Geto..."

"I'm Y/N !"

immediately you could tell the difference, Gojo was more laid back and playful while Geto was serious and well.... serious thats all. though you were different from them you guys established a strong friendship, standing up for each other, talking with each other, and basically doing everything with each other.

ପ꒰⑅•ᴗ•｡꒱໊੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚<33

usually people say "Every trio has a duo" this isn't the case for your friendship. with you guys everything is different, i wouldn't necessarily say that they're the duo but they are in a sense??? I mean like they usually make plans to do stuff and force you to join them not leaving you alone just not letting you make the decisions ( lmao im sorry i don't make sense im new to making these things :((( )

for example they'll make plans for a sleepover without telling you you then just drag you along, not caring if you wanna go or if dont wanna go

"Huh~? Why didn't you plan it with me~, I could've made time for you guys! Besides I already have plans :(( sorry...."

"...Ah, I see..."

"Nooooo, darling~ You can't cancel them?? For us??"

"Sorry 'Toru, I can't we've been planning this for dayss"

"...Can we come?"

"YEAHHH! CAN WE COME PLEASSEEE MAY WE???"

"Sugu~, it's girls onlyyy"

both their eyebrows furrow and just blankly look at you

"......."

".......what"

"Wellllll, guess what darling!! You are either going with us to this girls only shit orrrr you ditch them and come to our sleep overr"

Geto just nods to his words while crossing his arms

"Darling, you wouldn't ditch us for them would you? We prepared this for days and canceled our plans for this too!"

of course Geto was going to manipulate you into coming with them, after all you're just a dumb pretty thing right? They could easily manipulate you into moving in with them how hard could this be? Perhaps not...

"No, I always cancel plans for them just to be with you guys. I know you planned this for a long time but I haven't seen my friends in a long time... You could bring Nobara to the sleepover!!"

"I don't want Nobara...."

"Well I don't wanna cancel my plans Sugu... Sorry maybe another time?"

"No, Y/n I said either we're going WITH you or you come with US"

i mean its ok right?? You'll just bring them with you can get this over with! You can probably make them wait in the car? wait no, you can't you aren't that cold hearted but if you bring them to an all girls sleepover its going to be awkward... maybe you could ask your friend if they can sleep on the couch? I mean maybe its an exception

"Mmm... You can come with me then.. I have to ask my friend about it though"

"...Really?"

"Ah, ok then you can ask them now"

"Mmk..."

you picked up your phone and attempted to stand up to go call your friend

"No, stay here put her on speaker I wanna listen please"

you reluctantly sat down and called her putting her on speaker

"Hii, you ok Y/n?"

"Mhm... I was just going to ask you if I can bring two of my other friends over?"

"best friends"

"Oh yeah, I mean best friends.."

"Oh! Yes of course! The more the merrier!"

"...What if they were the opposite gender..."

you could hear the pause as you started sweating with Geto and Gojo intently stared at you

"U-uhm... It's an all girls sleepover though...its going to be a little weird"

...well this was awkward as hell, you stared at them and saw Gojo pout a little while Geto glared so hard at the phone you swore it would shatter

"I-I promise they won't be any trouble! They'll sleep on the couch"

"I wanna sleep with you though..."

"No, it's my turn Geto shut up"

"No you shut the fuck up"

"Y/n~ he sweared at mee~"

"...Are they in the room with you right now?"

oh fuck

"No? What do you mean?"

"I jus' heard something sorry... I mean, I guess if they're ok with sleeping on the couch then sure thing! Just don't tell anybody else I don't want a bunch of girls bringing boys now..."

"Oh! Thank you! I'll get you snacks!"

"You don't have to~ but come earlier I wanna show you something!"

"Oh! Ok I'll come like 20 minutes earlier?"

"Mm, perfect! Mmk Cya!"

"Byee Cyaa~!"

she hung up as you glanced at the time, 3 more hours until the sleepover you got up and put your phone on the table

"Uhmm, wanna come with me to go get snacks?"

"YES PLEASEE"

"Yeah, I wanna come with you"

ପ꒰⑅•ᴗ•｡꒱໊੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚<33

"Oh! Y/n you're- ... oh?"

she just nervously smiled staring at the men behind you glaring at her as you smiled at her seeming giddy

"Hii Aeri! Here, I picked some snacks out for you"

you handed her the bag as she let you guys enter, she just silently stared at the floor as you guys took off your shoes and put on your slippers

"U-uh, Y/n come! Lemme show you something!"

she said as she grabbed your wrist and dragged you somewhere, she seemed excited and happy, not noticing the men following you and her

"Y/NNNN I GOT A CAT LOOK ISN'T SHE CUTE? SHES THE SAME BREED AS YOURSS"

"OMG IT LOOKS EXACTLY LIKS SIMI"

you bent down to pet it softly as she bent down next to you she picked it up and placed it in your arms

of course Geto and Gojo were annoyed that you were paying attention to a pesky animal besides they deserve your attention more all animals do are poo, eat, and sleep they didn't do anything to deserve your attention

ପ꒰⑅•ᴗ•｡꒱໊੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚<33

"Y/n"

"Y/niee~"

"Darling wake up"

you groggily opened your eyes as you stared into bright blue eyes and black eyes (please dont ask me how you can see black eyes in the dark :(( )

"W-what are you guys doing here? You're supposed to be on the couch..."

"Can't sleep without you..."

"This idiot kept kicking me and snoring.... I want to sleep with you not him..."

"...."

you sat up and looked around you seeing the door open with the girls sprawled on the floor and bed

"Mm, m'kay"

you really didn't have any energy to argue with them and scold them about coming in the room which they were specifically told not to go in

AIUSHDKJSHDFJK JIM SO SORRY JMY HANDS HURT LIKE HELL IM GONNNA RIGHT A PART TWO LATER >:(((

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk x reader #gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere satosugu #stsg #drabble #fairyumii

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ash5monster01 · 7 months

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Learning to Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

→ Part 1

Masterlist

You're used to crude comments, truly. Living in the Outer Banks has proven nothing other than the fact that kooks will always be cruel, even if it's towards other kooks. As long as you're in a bathing suit, something is going to be said. Which is proven true as you lie on the beach, book in hand, and sunglasses hung low on your nose. It's your only day off and you were going to enjoy it. Soak up the sun as much as you can because summer would fade away before you knew it. You had only chosen the two piece bathing suit to get more of a tan, maybe a little extra sun. It's only twenty pages into your book you hear two boys snickering not far from your own set up.

"Look a beached whale, should we call the authorities?" your ears burn red only slightly, after all you were used to it. Honestly you could care less anymore.

"God, she has to know that's gross" the other responds after his bellowing laughs have calmed down. They truly can't be that stupid they don't realize how loud they're talking right?

"No decent looking, hell self respecting man would ever date a girl like that" this punches the air out of your lungs. You knew your body type wasn’t considered attractive. This was common knowledge, but to hear someone say you couldn’t possibly ever date an attractive man is something else entirely.

“I know I wouldn’t” the boys laugh again, hands clapping together as they stare you down like you were the most disgusting thing on this beach.

You’re not upset about what they were saying. You survived highschool after all. Your school had already been divided by kooks and pogues, add in the big girl and that’s a recipe for disaster. You’ve heard the most vile and mean things a person could say. Somehow you came out of it with still a little self respect, hell even some confidence, because if you were anything at all it was strong. You had dated here and there, never had anything stick though. Maybe that’s why this comment resonated so hard with you. No matter how decent a person you meet maybe you’re bound to end up ugly and alone because an attractive man belongs with an attractive girl.

Rafe has had to attend hundreds of useless business meetings since his Dad died. He had wanted this. When he was nineteen and trying to prove to his Dad that he was worth it, but now he was gone. He had no one to impress anymore and at twenty three he carried the burden of being the CEO of an entire company with his last name on it. So that’s how he finds himself inside of dark clubs at noon, sharing a scotch with guys willing to play dirty to get what they want. He often wonders why he had wanted this life so badly. Everything he had believed in for so long was now gone. His Dad, the treasure, and now even kooks and pogues. Ever since his sister had found that treasue social classes had been practically eliminated or at least weren't acknowledged like they were before. All of this had now left Rafe without a sense of self and he desperatley needed something to change.

"Man, why can't they hire pretty waitresses to look at anymore?" Levi, a coworker slurred as he watched their waitress walk away. Rafe noticed her shoulders stiffen because she had heard what he had said. He hated he felt guilty over it.

"It's a bar, not a strip club" Matt, another coworker teased and Rafe rolled his eyes. Four years ago these guys could've been his best friends, and he would've teased the waitress right along with them. Now things were different, he was different.

"I happen to think she's cute" Rafe told them before finishing the last sip of his scotch. He knew when he got back to the office people would give disapproving looks but he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. It was like he was just floating and letting the tide drag him along wherever it wanted to.

"Yeah right" Matt snorted out a laugh and Rafe gave him a confused look as Levi started to laugh along with him.

"Seriously Rafe, you’re way out of her league" Levi told him, his shoulder bumping with his own.

"No I'm not and there is no such thing as leagues" Rafe told them with a pointed look but the boys just continued to laugh anyway.

"Yes there is and the only one's in Rafe Cameron's league are tall hot blondes with legs for miles and tan skin smooth enough slide on" Matt said and Rafe felt his stomach clench as they spoke. Had he unintentionaly maintained a type, only taken someone for their looks? Flashes of ex girlfriends went through his mind and he had realized after all this time he had only taken women for surface things.

“That can’t be true” Rafe shook his head and the boys just chuckled.

“Admit dude, you’re an asshole and you like pretty little things. Nothing wrong with that” Levi said as he slapped his back, taking another sip of his own scotch. Rafe however realized there was everything wrong with that. Yeah he’s been a jerk his whole life but had he ever actually dated a girl he liked? Someone with substance?

“Hell would freeze over the day Rafe Cameron dated someone other than a supermodel” Matt pointed with the scotch in his hand and Rafe just shook his head, eyes scanning over the small crowd that littered the bar. For the first time he was seeing people he never would’ve noticed before.

He wondered if this was a side effect of his life before. Privileged kook, popularity, a need to impress everyone around him. Had women become a part of all of that too? A side effect of a need to please, to be the best. Had he been wasting years of actually meeting someone with a personality due to his natural self destructive ways? God he hoped not. Then again he couldn’t recall ever really liking the girls he dated, he usually just tuned them out and used them when he needed to make an appearance with a date. He had never actually dated someone for fun. Worst of all he hated that everyone knew this of him. That he dated for appearance instead of happiness. He wanted to change that.

You could only take so much of the harassment coming from the two boys on the beach, so after three hours you declared you’d had enough sun and started to pack your things. When the cover up slipped over your head you didn’t miss the applause coming from them. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started the hike up the beach. You needed a drink.

Rafe hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts over the girls he dated. After a very long recollection of every girl he had ever brought around he couldn’t think of one he actually enjoyed spending time with. With this in mind he dismissed Matt and Levi back to the office, claiming he’d find a way back on his own. He needed more time to think about this, and a stiff drink to go along with it. So that’s how he found himself now sitting directly at the bar and not inside the dark booth. The whiskey in his hand suggested he wasn’t making it back to the office anytime soon.

Normally he wouldn’t remove his focus from the drink in his hands but when a bag is slapped on the counter top beside him he finds himself lifting his head. The girl claiming the seat beside him is dressed in stark contrast to his own attire. He’s still in his work suit, tie loosened around his neck, but the girl beside him has clearly just come from the beach. Her hair is wild and wrapped in a bun a top her head. A red bikini strap peaks out the collar of the white coverup. Her breasts had left wet spots slightly see through to the red fabric of her top, like she had left the beach in a rush.

“Hit me with the usual Randy” she calls to the bar keep and Rafe can’t tear his eyes away from her. She’s bigger, sure, but the dip of her hips and small pouted lips have Rafe every bit of intrigued. He can’t help the thought of her being a girl he might’ve never noticed before escape him. He wanted to notice her now.

“Rough day?” Randy smirks at her when he’s back, a tall glass with a dark liquid set in front of her. She takes a sip before responding.

“Every day is a rough day” she mutters and Randy just chuckles before walking off to serve other customers. It’s only when your eyes lock with his own Rafe realizes he has been staring this entire time. “Let me guess, you got something to say just like everyone else today”

“I, what?” Rafe doesn’t expect the coldness from you and how strong willed you are with it too. You aren’t scared of him, he isn’t used to that.

“Listen I’ve had my fill of assholes today so if you don’t have anything nice to say, keep it to yourself” you told him before turning back forward and taking a large gulp from the drink in your hand.

“Got someone bothering you?” Rafe asked finding his cool. He finally got himself to tear his eyes away from you, eyes scanning over the liquor bottles behind the bar. You turn to look at him, eyes drawn together in confusion.

“Not one specific person, everyone for some reason thinks they have the right to comment on my appearance” your words get him to turn back at you. Normally men don’t make you nervous but when you watch him eye you up and down you can’t help the way your heart accelerates.

“I happen to think you look just fine” the scoff that falls from your lips shocks him.

“I’m not looking for your pity, I happened to over hear today that no decent self respecting man would date me so let’s not lie to each other” you tell him and Rafe now feels the air knocked from his lungs. He can’t believe anyone would say that to you. Let alone to your face.

“If it makes you feel better I was told today that I only date woman for surface things” now you were the one drawing your eyebrows together in confusion, looking to the mystery of a man beside you.

“Surface things?” you question the stranger and he chuckles, his rings clinking on his whiskey glass.

“Appearances, apparently I’ve never looked deeper” this has you chuckling right along with him, lifting your own drink to your lips.

“Look at us then, two sides of the same coin. Makes you wonder if there really is anyone out there actually happy with who they ended up with” you say mostly to yourself, knowing this perfect stranger on a normal day would never look your way but you also would never find yourself thinking you had a chance with him.

“I think there is, at least the people who weren’t chewed up and spit out by the world” the optimism is what shocks you the most when he speaks. A hope for something better down in there.

“I wish I was one of those people” you find yourself saying and the boy turns to look at you again, eyes scanning over each of your features.

“Maybe we should prove them wrong” now you’re laughing, looking bewildered towards the boy beside you.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you ask and he smirks, clearly having some sort of plan.

“We date. I prove to my coworkers that I date someone for more than just their looks and you prove to all those assholes that you can date a guy as good looking as me” he gestures to himself, as if his body is some of God’s best work. You scoff at his clear cheekiness but actually find yourself considering.

“I don’t even know your name” you laugh, trying to remind yourself that this ideal is completely absurd.

“Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you” his hand reaches across the bar, you take notice of how long his fingers are. With the shake of your head you find yourself putting your hand in his own.

“It’s not that simple” you tell him and he just smiles, dimples forming around his pressed together lips.

“Isn’t it though?” he says, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes and you sigh, finally removing your hand from his own.

“Date? As in fake date?” you ask and he nods, his head tipping to the side.

“Exactly, an agreement of sorts. We both benefit from each other, everything to gain and nothing to lose” he tells you like he’s already worked out every way this could end.

“We just met” you inform him and he shrugs, implying this wasn’t an issue.

“I’ve seen people date over less” he tells you and you sigh, holding your hand out to him. He looks are your empty palm confused and you quickly roll your eyes.

“You can’t take me out ion a date without my number dream boy” you tell him and he smirks while grabbing his phone out of his pocket and placing it in your hand. He watched as you meticulously open his contacts and punch in your number. You’ve named your contact ‘baby ❤️’ but he doesn’t get your real name until you type it into other names.

“Y/N? I like that” he smiles at you and you chuckle, clicking on the profile photo to take a selfie.

“We’re already off to a bad start if you want to stop liking people for just their surface things” he likes how quick witted you are and you don’t allow him a response as you lean into his personal space. “Can’t be a real girlfriend if I don’t have a profile picture in your phone”

You smile so easily and he instantly notices how beautiful it is. He’s not looking at the camera anymore but leaning in and taking in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the sunscreen and salty skin. You were like a walking beach and he loved that more than anything. That is how he finds his lips pressing softly against your cheek as the camera shutter clicks on his phone. Your body has chills that you have to brush off quickly as you look at the entirely real looking photo on his screen.

“If I didn’t like what was on the surface you would never be my fake girlfriend” he finally says as he takes his phone back before you could text yourself his number.

“I don’t like how easy this is for you. Are you sure I’m your first fake girlfriend?” you ask and he laughs, eyes falling on your face again.

“The first and the only” and you decide that coming into an agreement like this with a stranger shouldn’t be this simple.

“Then we need to lay some ground rules” this has him raising his eyebrows as you grab a napkin from the bar. He watches as you leaned over, searching for a pen behind the bar. Unashamedly he took the opportunity to inspect your ass, admiring the curve and thanking the see through fabric for revealing the cheeky bikini bottoms that laid over your large curves. He had never openly allowed himself to be attracted to a bigger girl. but now he was briefly wondering what it would be like to be suffocated by one.

“So, what’s these rules?” he smirked at you once you were sat back upright in your seat. He watched as you popped the cap off the pen with your teeth and leaving it in your mouth.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, I’ll keep them simple” you tell him, dropping the cap from you lips into the bar. He felt himself flush slightly at the nickname, watching as your neat and loopy handwriting moved across the napkin.

1. Must actively text/call/interact for a week before first “official” date.

2. PDA must be limited

3. Don’t catch feelings, no matter what

4. Attend whatever event your fake significant other asks of you

5. Most of all, don’t tell anyone, ever, that this is fake

“PDA must be limited?” you roll your eyes at the fact this was the only rule he questioned but you sign at the bottom of the napkin anyway.

“I don’t want to waste all of romantic gestures on something that isn’t real” you explain to him and he nods, sliding the napkin in front of him.

“I have a lot of work dinners I would like you to attend” he says as he signs the napkin.

“I’ll try my best” you tell him and now he’s furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“It’s your rule” he points at the napkin, more confused with you than when you first walked in here. “What could you possibly be busy with?”

“Work” you tell him and he still looks confused which you find adorable. Now rule number three only applies to you.

“Every night?” he questions and you chuckle as you return the pen to the other side of the bar.

“Usually, comes with the territory” and you laugh as he continues to try and process what you’re saying.

“What territory?” he asks and you smile, finishing the drink in front of you.

“My bar” and you gesture to the building around you. Rafe suddenly realizes why you know the names of the workers and why they know your usual drink order.

“You own this place?” and you nod, sliding off your seat and grabbing your bag. You also grab the napkin, now signed by you both.

“Don’t forget rule number one handsome” you tell him before heading towards the exit, determined to have a good rest of your day off. Rafe can only watch as you walk away, baffled any of what just happened actually occurred.

“Randy, I’m gonna need a refill”

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redbullgirly · 5 months

Note

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

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

EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]

Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist

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

Word Count: 4.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

You couldn't believe it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What's all this?”

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

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

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

“You work overtime?”

Now you were starting to get irritated.

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

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

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

“Y/N, I-”

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”

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

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

“Aren't we talking right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

“But Nando, I need to finish these-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END

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

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circeyoru · 3 months

Note

In love with the idea of Bambi being a total sweetheart to reader, nuisance to residents of the hotel, and a nightmare for Al.

Like I can just see Al thinking he 'won' against Bambi, only to later go into his radio tower and it be a mess.

The settings and dials are all off, multiple things are unplugged or the cord is just chewed through, and blood or little bodies everywhere.

I'm also cracking up over reader mentioning cats supposedly leave bodies for people they care about to make sure they eat. Al getting offended the cat thinks he's incompetent, and Bambi upset you think he likes Al at ALL.

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

For those that have no idea who Bambi is, that's what I named the Cursed Cat Alastor after an ask's subtle suggestion so we don't mix him with Alastor.

Yup, I see a lot of playful but violent banters between the two when it comes to getting your attention and affection. It turned into a bit of a competition later on even though Alastor as more than enough of your feelings. Hello? You confessed already! Never enough, for him. If he can have more, he'll have more

Reader/you know about Bambi's attitude to others when you weren't around, you're not stupid to ignore the apparent favouritism. It was just funny so you didn't do much.

Interestingly, you never see the dead body or body parts that Bambi left for you. It's because you made it very clear that nothing was to dirty your room, to the point that Alastor's (raw) meals and hunting ground weren't designed like he had before you lived with him in the hotel. Bambi's smart to pick up on that since it wouldn't dare make you angry.

So where do the body parts and bodies go? The hotel kitchen, especially when Alastor's there preparing your meals or snacks or desserts.

I imagine everyone staring wide-eyed and clearing the path when Bambi came back dragging a demon body by the neck (that was definitely way bigger than its size) through the doors. Niffty quickly cleaned the trail of blood. Their eyes followed Bambi to the kitchen where Alastor soon emitted annoyed and offended radio static.

"I am perfectly capable of attaining ingredients for My Beloved without your help!"

"Meow!!!"

"And I am not sharing credits with you!"

"Meow!!!!!!"

"Alastor, when's food ready?" You peeked into the kitchen

Alastor beamed, "A moment, My Darling!"

"Oh, Bambi's here. That his meal?"

"Why yes, it was decent enough to hunt for itself I suppose."

"Meow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Another day in the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie and the others are still amazed that you can handle Alastor, but now they're even more shocked to see you handle this cursed cat version of Alastor as well.

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

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kissesforsatoru · 11 months

Text

GUARDIAN ANGEL | wc: 5k~

GUARDIAN ANGEL!HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

₊˚⌗ hobie was never supposed to get involved with you, yet you and him became irrevocably tied to one another.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, soft yandere!hobie, near death experiences, marking (not in the way you guys probably think), jealousy, possessive behavior if you squint, implied power dynamics, pet names (love, sweetheart), horribly written british accent, utterly smitten hobie, softie!reader, reader is smaller than hobie, but angels are big compared to humans so that's why (he’s like 6’5+ and he wears platforms), EVERYTHING ABOUT ANGELS IN THIS FIC IS ENTIRELY MADE UP.

notes : please bear in mind that i don't have a full grasp on hobie yet, so he is probably definitely a bit ooc; i did try my best though!! i’m also planning to put this on ao3 at some point, so if you see it pop up there it’s not plagiarized, it’s just me ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing . . . fool for you by noita

it was never supposed to turn out like this. you and him were never supposed to happen.

you were only supposed to be 'just another human' to hobie like the rest of everyone else. he wasn't supposed to get involved or contact you directly; he wasn't supposed to get attached. you weren't supposed to get attached to him either. but you did, and he did too. so much that he’s entirely fucked. there’s no coming back from this for you or him.

it's not like this is any of hobie’s fault though, not when he’s known to not follow the rules and definitely not when you're the most precious human he has ever had the pleasure of being the guardian angel of.

he will admit that at first it was boring to watch you, but then it was fun.

you aren’t anything incredibly special. just a broke college student with very few friends who likes to stay home more than you like to go out. but following you around and laughing his ass off about all of the stupid little things you did when you thought nobody was watching, like talk to yourself or narrate your actions, hobie really enjoyed that. he got a nice kick out of whenever someone would catch you doing one of those things and you’d get all flustered, shy, and painfully awkward.

you're undeniably adorable, and so refreshing. it's nice being your guardian angel in comparison to being one for some grubby old bastard whose morality borders far past what's considered to be good. hobie hates those people, pigs they are, all of them. you aren’t anything like them. you're boring, yeah, but hobie still likes you better than any other human.

he sometimes pretended that you were talking to him whenever you spoke to yourself out loud, even though that couldn't have been possible. he would smirk and respond to you still with his dry humor and witty remarks because it was fun and it gave him a delightful little buzz.

he didn't know how, or when, it happened, but hobie then found himself melting whenever he was around you, and more, he didn't mind it.

hobie used to hate angels that fell for humans because they’re such fragile beings; you have to be careful with them, all gentle and soft—it's why they need guardian angel, otherwise, they would die out faster than any other species earth has ever known. and angels, despite what people may think, aren't gentle lovers. they're aggressive and intense by nature due to their power and status as "higher beings." humans are too weak to handle an angel's love; it would be too overwhelming for them to handle, so falling for one is pointless, and hobie always thought that the angels who did were stupid. but he gets it now.

he shouldn’t though.

guardian angels have very specific and strict rules that have to be followed meticulously for both the safety of humans and angels. of course, hobie has broken more than a few of these rules before and he’s also gotten plenty of lectures from miguel about it too—enough for hobie to have actually considered flying under the lunatics' radar by doing his job correctly, but hobie... he doesn't like to be pushed around and forced into a role. especially one as heavy as guardian angel. that's just not him, so he does what he wants.

but still, hobie has never seriously messed up before. he's only had a few slip ups here and there that aren't too reprimandable in comparison to other things. he's tried to be somewhat serious about his job, follow all the important rules and all that. that is until he fell for you.

hobie has broken many of the important rules for you, and the first one was even falling for you in the first place. you made him break that one so easily, almost too easy. the next rule hobie broke for you was communicating with you directly, revealing himself and really getting involved with you. but to be fair, that also wasn't his fault. he didn't have the intention of letting you see him that night, let alone talking to you; it just happened.

your friend gwen told you about guardian angels and how it was possible for you to manifest using the help of yours, and you were awfully excited about finding out if that was true or not. you asked him for a sign that he was there, that he was willing to help you. one thing led to another and suddenly you were nestled deeply into the corner of the wall on your bed, wide eyed and shivering as you stared at him standing across the room.

perhaps it was your over eagerness mixed with his half-developed love for you at the time that made him stupidly decide to give you a sign that he was real in the form of literally showing you that he was real, he doesn't know. either way he did show you himself, and it had shocked you, really (an understatement). it took many hours of him consoling you to get you to understand that he's not some psycho who broke into your home somehow, but your actual, real guardian angel, in the flesh.

you were practically all over him after that, asking him all sorts of questions and touching him just to see if that was even possible for you to do—and to know what it would feel like too. not that he minded anyway. hobie decided then that it was much better having you actually talk to him than it was pretending that you were. and your touch was so soft that hobie had actually faltered a little bit when you reached for his cheek, pressing your palm against his skin and keeping it there for as long as he would let you.

of all the places you could have touched him, of course you would choose an area that felt so unreasonably intimate, shaking him to his core. luckily you were far too enamored with the idea that he was a real angel for you to notice how much you’d set him off, how much you affect him.

after that he couldn't stay away from you. before he might have had a chance to snap himself out of his little love-sick puppy stupor, but having you aware of him, talking to him, touching him—it was all exhilarating; he loved it. and it would truly be unfair for anyone to expect him to pull away from you and never let anything like that happen again. that was never an option for hobie, so he just didn't. he won’t ever deny himself the pleasure of you.

the last, most recent rule that hobie broke for you, and the one that happens to be the most important of all, was interfering with your life. going against "fate," as miguel calls it. hobie always thought that it was bullshit since a guardian angels' job is to protect, but apparently, they aren’t allowed to prevent their assigned human's death, or cure their illnesses, or anything like that, even though they had the power to. he didn't understand it, but still, he never got attached enough to feel the need to go against that rule until he fell in love with you.

— ୨୧ —

he indulged himself little by little with you. first by allowing himself to enjoy being your guardian angel, then by falling in love with you and involving himself physically with you. and then he started allowing himself to steal your attention from anyone or anything other than him on days he felt oddly needy.

that term isn't something anyone who knew hobie would use to describe him, not even he would use it to describe himself, but with you he's always acted a little bit different. he came to accept it, told himself that it was the "y/n effect" and left it at that. being needy with you was something that hobie didn't really mind all that much; he embraced it, really.

hobie can at least get away with a little bit of harmless interference this way, by stealing your attention for himself. he didn't mind receiving another long, boring lecture about how he can’t keep breaking rules if it meant he got to spend his day with you holed up in your little apartment, just the two of you. you and him and nobody else.

he'd show up out of nowhere when you least expected him to, always, and tug on your arm, pull you into his body and coax you into staying with him. he'd tell you that going to work would be bad for you, leave you sick and groggy—you hate being sick and all groggy, and only a fool would think hobie wouldn’t use that to his advantage.

"you have to listen to your guardian angel, love," he would tell you, tilting his head to look down at your small frame, admiring the slight angry pout on your lips. "i know what's best for you, so stay, yeah?"

you always do listen to him. you trust him completely, after all, because you're such a naive human that could never ever think that hobie, your guardian angel, has bad intentions with you. and he doesn't, no, he's just a little bit selfish. no harm in that, right? 'course not.

hobie can go a little overboard with his selfishness whenever you have a date to go on though. he shouldn't be because you're a human and he's an angel and he could never have you for real, right? so he should let you have your little love story with your puny little human boy.

but hobie is going to be selfish regardless of the facts. regardless of some stupid rules.

he hates the idea of you being with some dumb human when you have him. he's perfect, he's an angel. he's strong enough to protect you, he has your best interest always in mind—it's his literal job—he can love you the way you deserve to be loved and more, he can care for you better than anyone else in the world because he knows you best and knows exactly what you need without ever having to tell him. no human can ever compare to him.

no human will ever be as cool as him either. hobie doesn't think any guy can top him when he's a punk angel—what could possibly be cooler than that? you said it yourself when the two of you first met.

"wow, i didn't think angels could look so... cool. hobie, you're amazing; what the hell!? how did someone like me get you as a guardian angel?”

who are you to be going on dates when you compliment him so sweetly like that. you obviously have an interest in him and all hobie needs to do is push you in the right direction, so he doesn't mind telling you any excuse he can come up with to get you to drop a guy, stupid and unreasonable or not.

"that guy just wants you for your body."

"that guy has a love already that he's not telling you about."

“that guy isn’t a good person, he’ll be a bad influence for you.”

"sweetheart, he's too ugly for you." he told you one time as an excuse, and you did not like that one.

"hobie! it's not about looks, it's about personality, and– and the heart!" you yelled at him, smacking his chest lightly as you pulled away from him and rushed your way down the hall towards your room.

"oh, s'at right? you like guys with ‘heart’?" he huffed a laugh as he followed behind you, leaning against your door frame when he got to your room. you turn around to glare at him, but he only smirks at your ruffled posture.

cute. cute.

"yes, actually! unlike you. i had no idea angels could be such assholes," you grit before turning back around to flop yourself face first into bed.

you always do that when you're upset with him, which isn't often at all, but it happens enough for hobie to pick up on the little habits you develop, and this is certainly one of them. you don't like looking at him 'cause he ‘does stuff to you,’ apparently. makes you unable to stay mad if you look at him too long, so you just choose not to.

he pushes off the wall and saunters towards you, pressing a knee into your bed as he reaches over to tug at your arm, urging for you to roll over, to look at him. "c'mon, you don't mean that, love." he smiles when you do eventually turn to look at him, and this time with a much less angry expression on your pretty face.

"no, i don't," you sigh defeatedly, "but you are pretty mean sometimes, hobes."

that nickname. he loves that nickname. he loves even more that you were the one who gave it to him.

he hums thoughtfully before responding, "not to you though, and tha's what matters, don't you think?" you roll your eyes at him, shifting so that you're flat on your back now as you look up at him. you don't say anything more, only stare up at him with your pretty eyes, all glossy and shining under the dim light in your room. big, and so fucking innocent.

god. fuck.

hobie crawls over you slowly, keeping his eyes steadily on you as he does. he brings a hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb over your soft skin gently as he settles himself above you, and then he reaches his thumb to press into your chin so that he can get a good grip on your face. to keep you from gettin' all shy on him, ‘cause he knows you will when you realize what he’s about to do to you.

his eyes flit down to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick across your bottom one, all sensual like—or maybe hobie is getting too worked up. yeah, probably that, but whatever.

you sigh shakily when hobie starts to lean down closer. you're so pliant, laying there nice and still for him even though you're feeling nervous right now. because you trust him; there isn't anything hobie could do that would make you not trust him.

hobie has to keep himself from absolutely devouring you when his lips press to yours. he has to remind himself to be soft, to not be too aggressive so he doesn't scare you too much, or hurt you either; the weak little whine you let out as he kisses you does nothing to help his self-control stay intact though. thankfully, you grab tightly at his leather vest and tug for him to come closer, inviting him to press further into you and kiss you deeper.

hobie balances himself up on his knees as the hand that was holding him up comes to knead at your waist and tummy, feeling and rubbing there as gently as he can right now in his worked-up state—which is just barely enough for him not to leave imposing bruises on your skin from how much stronger he is compared to you. you don't seem to mind how tightly he holds onto you though, because you're still eagerly kissing him back, making all sorts of pleased little noises that hobie is all too happy to swallow up.

hobie only pulls away when you start squirming under him, signaling that you need to breathe. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against his body as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your delicious scent and placing little kisses on your neck as you pant softly.

"you don't need another man, you know that love?" he ask you, tells you, after a while of the two of you just laying together.

"yeah, i guess i don't," you reply to him, airy and quiet, right before you fall asleep tucked nicely into his arms. exactly where you belong.

— ୨୧ —

jessica stops hobie one night right as he's about to leave and go see you.

"if miguel finds out about this, you know he's going to be pissed, right?” she says, coming up behind him. “maybe you can get off on a wrist slap for breaking small, stupid rules, but falling in love with a human is something miguel absolutely will not allow, hobie."

hobie scoffs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, nor does he turn around to look at her. his emotions and feelings would be right on display for her if he did. she’d know well how much he fucked up, and that would be a hit to his pride. ‘specially since he always told her about his dislike for angels who fell for humans.

"what’s ’at got anything to do with me, mm?" he decides to respond out of courtesy, turning his head to look at her through his peripheral, "i'm not in love with any human."

hobie knows that jessica knows that's a lie. it's obvious he's in love with you because of how different he's acting. doing his job right and all that, to some degree at least. breaking the 'don't get in physical contact your human' and 'don't fall in love with your human' rules aside, he's properly keeping up with his status reports about you, he's not off doing other things when he's supposed to be with you. he's being the good proper guardian angel he should be, and that is definitely out of character for hobie. it was really only a matter of time before someone found out. hobie is just lucky it was jessica who put two and two together first instead of miguel. then he’d have a real big problem on his hands.

jessica sighs. "all the stuff miguel says about angels getting attached and falling for humans being dangerous is true, hobie, not just some control tactic to keep angels on a leash. it could cost your human their life, and you your job," she warns before leaving.

hobie always liked how not-pushy she is; it’s why he prefers her over miguel. but he thinks she's wrong, because he would never let you die. ever. he couldn’t care less about losing this shitty job though.

— ୨୧ —

the conversation with jess, as much as hobie hates to admit it, put a real damper on his mood.

he's agitated when he gets to your apartment, showing up right in your room where he knows that you are because he can feel you there. and once he is there, he eases up a little bit. all of his racing thoughts seem to disappear when you come into his vision so he can see you now, not just feel you. seeing and feeling you is nice; it grounds him.

you jolt when you see him suddenly appear behind you in the reflection of the mirror that you're sitting in front of though. a gentle gasp falls from between your pretty lips as you whirl around quickly to look at him, eyes widening like a doe caught in headlights. you ease up quickly, realizing that it's just him; you sigh the words under your breath as you deflate a little bit, coming down from the brief bit of adrenaline you must have felt with him scaring you like that.

goodness, aren't you just so delicate? it's a damn shame hobie's not supposed to go falling for a human, isn't it? a load of tosh that is.

he smirks, "sorry, love. didn't mean to scare you li' that,” he says easy, stepping forward until he's a few feet in front of you, looking down at you, looking up at him. your eyes are glimmering under the artificial light of the lamp settled next to the mirror. he thinks that even in such dodgy lighting, your eyes and soft expression are still utterly enrapturing. the soft, charming glow that the light provides to your features draws a pleased hum from hobie.

so pretty. you're so damn pretty.

"geez, hobes," you say, huffing as you look away from him and down at your lap, "you can't just keep randomly showing up like that; you may well give me a heart attack one of these days if you do." your laugh is music to his ears. airy, pitched, and sweet like the ripest peach. sweeter than the ripest peach.

an angel's voice is supposed to be the most beautiful sound, people say, but hobie disagrees. he would much rather listen to you talk or laugh all day long rather than ever have to hear another word uttered from his shitty coworkers' mouths.

"i would never let that happen to you," he says, tone shifting from playful to serious. hobie feels better that he’s with you now, but the bit jess said about you dying clings to him still. weasels it’s way into his thoughts and makes his stomach lurch. he’s buzzing, and not in the nice delightful kind of buzzing that you bring out of him, no. he just needs you right now.

he needs to feel you—really feel you, beyond the way he feels your life force tied to him, fluctuating with your emotions and physical state. he needs to actually touch you, hold you.

hobie gets down onto his knees in front of you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up into his chest as he does. you whimper in surprise at the sudden proximity between you and him, your hands instinctively grabbing at his shoulder and jacket to steady yourself, even with how tightly he's holding you against him because his presence just overwhelms you too much. he always makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees. you can never seem to function, not without his help. but that's normal between humans and angels. you aren't made to handle him, you aren't supposed to, but that's okay; he can be as gentle as you need him to be.

"look at me, love," hobie whispers, hooking a finger under your chin, nudging you to look at him. you squeak when your eyes meet his, no doubt incredibly flustered—he can feel that you are. can feel your pulse throbbing as heat rushes through your skin, radiating a dull warmth for him to sink into as his fingers dig deeper into your skin. he smirks, huffing out a faint laugh as he looks down at you, admiring you.

"there you go, sweetheart," he praises you softly, brushing the pad of his thumb across the slight curve of your bottom lip. your eyes flutter closed briefly as you take a shaky breath, and then you open them again, watching him intently, and god does it make hobie feel all sorts of things.

"'m never gonna let anyone or anything hurt you," he murmurs, tightening his grip around your waist and holding you firmly against his chest with each word uttered, “you’re too precious for me to be careless with you like i am the rest of the shitty people in this shitty world. only you matter to me, yeah? just you and nobody fucking else.” he finishes quietly, dipping down to kiss lightly on your cheeks, one on each side, and then another on your forehead, drawn-out and lingering even after he pulls away.

you're practically melting in his hold by the time he does pull away, so pliable and warm, and you're looking at him with hooded eyes that you can barely keep open. delirious as you are, utterly suffocated by him, your grip on his shoulder and jacket is still relentless, unwavering, as if he would slip away from you if you loosened up the tiniest bit. you want him, need him, near to you as much as he wants you near, really. it's not just him with all of these intense, overwhelming and all-consuming emotions; it's you too.

“hobie,” you whine, nearly breathless, “can you– can we please kiss again? on the… the lips?” you plead, tugging at his jacket in desperation.

“anything for you, sweetheart,” hobie whispers, leaning forward until his mouth is hovering over yours, breathing you in slowly before he finally closes them together. he kisses you slow and tender, taking his time in savoring how delicious you taste. you sigh contentedly, tilting your head to the side and parting your lips for his tongue to delve inside of your mouth.

the hand he has wrapped around your waist slides across your body, feeling every dip and curve down to your thigh, where he grabs at gently, swinging it up to his hip as he pushes off the floor. your legs wrap around him instinctively to hold yourself up in his arms as he carries you across the room to your bed, his lips never once parting away from yours as he does. his other hand is holding your chin and jaw in place so that you can't pull away from him either, wanting as much contact with you at a time as he can get away with. he knows you wouldn't pull away from him so easily, but he likes controlling the kiss, likes it when you let him lead the way and guide your body with his.

hobie carefully sits down on the bed and leans back against the wall, settling you into his lap comfortably before his hand starts roaming all over your body; along your hips and over your thighs, squeezing the fat in his hands before moving back up and dipping under your shirt to feel at your tummy. you moan and whimper into the kiss, shivering under his touch when his hand grazes along especially sensitive areas of your body.

when hobie pulls away you're panting and dazed, humming mindlessly in pleasure as hobie starts pressing kisses down your jaw and neck. his teeth graze lightly along the sensitive flesh beneath your ear teasingly before his tongue dips out to lick delicately at the spot, making your body thrum and pulsate in delectation. he nips once at your skin before finally pulling away to look at you, to savor how much of a mess he was able to make you into with a heated kiss. and god do you look absolutely stunning like this. swollen lips parted as you breath out small puffs of air, hooded eyelids, and your clothes are entirely disheveled from where hobie had pushed them up and slid his hands under.

fuck, you’re lovely.

"you look a mess, sweetheart," he rasps fondly, running his fingertips lightly along your hips and thighs.

"'ts your fault," you mumble, falling into his chest and nuzzling your nose into his neck, exhaling softly as you close your eyes and relax. hobie wraps both of his arms around you and rubs your back gently, soothing you until you hum contentedly.

"yeah, i suppose it is, isn't it?" he agrees quietly, not wanting to disrupt your somnolence.

hobie lays with you in his arms for hours after that, listening intently to your steady heartbeat and soft, rhythmic breathing, every now and then feeling you shift with a cute disgruntled little huff whenever you've stayed in one position for too long. hobie loves your sleepy, content little sounds, loves the way your fingers curl around his vest; even in your sleep you're still clinging onto him, because you need him, and he loves it.

hobie loves you.

— ୨୧ —

hobie knows he's not supposed to interfere with fate. it's against the rules, or whatever bullshit excuse everyone says it is. hobie didn't really care that much about it before because he's never cared about anyone enough to ever want to change their fate, but now he has you, and you need him more than ever to keep you safe, to keep you from dying.

god, he doesn't know how it happened, but you were crying for him so desperately. curled on the floor, gasping for air and clutching onto life with weak claws, you were calling his name. it was like sensory overload, hearing every strewn-out letter of his name mixed in with your sobs, with the incessantly throbbing and pulsating of your life force weakening, slowly and agonizing.

the second you had been put in danger, hobie felt it. all throughout his body and deep within his soul, he felt you dying. there was a shift in the air at that moment, a suffocating, excruciatingly tense one that everyone around hobie had noticed; jess and miguel, and his best friend pavitr.

they all yelled and screamed at him that he couldn't go to you, lunging to stop him as he fumbled for the watch that would help him get to you the fastest, but the noise they made was dull and muffled in comparison to the way you cried for him. and god did it feel like he was getting stabbed through the heart mercilessly every time that you did. how dare they ever expect him to just listen to then when you were in so much fucking pain, all alone and the only one you wanted was him.

he had to save you. fuck the rules and fuck his shitty job; you were far more important to him than any of that. it didn’t matter to hobie that in order to save you he had to enchain his soul with yours, it didn't matter to him that he would share every bit of pain with you now, even your last breath if you ever took it, because hobie would rather give up his entire being to you than ever have to live without you.

#yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere imagines #yandere atsv #yandere spiderverse #yandere hobie #yandere hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie brown x y/n #soft yandere #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #gender neutral reader

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adissonswifey · 11 months

Text

Cover your cough.

Addison Montgomery x f!reader.

Being on Addison's Montgomery service is not an easy job. Especially when you have to look for her all over the hospital. Unfortunately Seattle Grace has a lot of good hiding spots.

"Hey, have you seen Dr. Montgomery?" You asked one of the nurses.

"No, sorry." She replied and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, thanks."

You like most of the nurses, they're really nice and very helpful but some of them are horrible. For example, this one, her name is Bria and she's a pain in the ass. Which makes you sad because you've always been really nice to her, unlike other residents.

You had been looking for her for an hour already, You really thought that Bailey wanting to get rid of you, did not mention that Addison had taken time off. Just when you were really about to give up you walked into one of the one-call rooms. You sat down on the bed that faced the couch and saw pink scrubs you've been looking for.

"There you are, I've been searching for you all day Dr. Montgomery," you mumbled. "Oh, are you okay?"

She didn't look like she was ok. She was sitting leaning on the couch and almost melting.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, y/n," she replied.

You walked up to her and put your hand on her forehead. You had never seen an attending in such a state. Especially her. You've never seen her like that.

"Shit, you're burning up and I'm pretty sure that white paint has more color than your face. You're not okay, Addison. You're sick," you gasped. "Come on, I'll drive you home." You stuck out your hand.

"No, y/n. You have patients, you can't just leave. I'm gonna be fine." She protested trying to get up.

"No, come on. Lay on the bed or you can stay on the couch, whatever you feel comfortable with and I'll go to the chief and tell him that you're sick and that I'm the only one who's going to drive you home. You stay here."

As you said, so you did. You went to the chief and explained to him that you were currently on Addison's service and actually weren't busy at the time. At first he didn't like the idea, but when you started talking about how dangerous it was for her patients to stay, he quickly succumbed. Also, you bought water and a sandwich because she looked like she needed energy.

"Okay, I'm back. Do you want a sandwich? Water?" She nodded her head no. "Addison, drink this at least and don't argue with me." She finally gave in. "Are you in any pain? Anything I could look into?"

"My stomach hurts a little bit," she muttered.

"Lift your shirt up."

"No, y/n. That's fine, I'm fine."

"Stop being so stubborn, please let me help you. You finally have a chance to see how good I am." She smirked. "Now come on, lift your shirt a little bit."

You examined her abdomen and also did an ultrasound to be safe. Everything looked fine. But you could tell she was in pain, and you don't quite know why, but you felt a strange feeling in your chest. When you finally made it to your car you breathed a sigh of relief. You knew that at this point her only option was to go with you. I mean, after all, she was already in the car anyway.

It was the first time you were in the apartment of any attending, well, maybe not counting the fact that Derek practically lived in the house you lived. You climbed the stairs and soon found yourselves in a cozy apartment. You told Addison to sit on the couch and covered her with a blanket right off the bat. She looked innocent, almost like a baby.

"Why are you doing this?" You heard her raspy voice behind you.

"Huh?"

"You're nice to me and you've always been, even when you found out about me and Mark. Even when I was hard on you. I mean, I get that you're a doctor too so you help people, but just... why are you helping me?"

You couldn't hide the fact that you just cared. Fact, Addison did stupid things in life, as we all do, but that didn't make her a bad person. Besides, you started to have a little crush on her from the first time you saw her, and on top of that you became something like friends and she was really close to you. You understood each other.

"I just care about you," you responded and turned around to look at her. "Okay look, this is probably not a very good time to tell you this but... I kinda have a crush on you?" You made a weird face. "I didn't tell you anything because this whole thing with Derek and then Mark was hard on you, but yeah I have a crush on you, maybe something even more than a crush. Also we're friends, really good friends so stop asking me these ridiculous questions," you explained.

"You have a crush on me?" Her eyes widened.

"God, sorry I didn't mean to make you... Look, we don't have to do anything about it. I'll be fine. Just forget it." You smiled awkwardly.

Couple days later...

"You finally told her?" Mer asked and took a bite of her fries, you covered your face with your hands.

"That wasn't the plan but yeah I did. God, I'm so embarrassed." You laughed.

"Was she shocked?" Alex asked.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"You're right, this is dumb. She's practically you're boss." Cristina shrugged her shoulders.

"You're acting like you didn't screwd an attending yourself." You rolled your eyes and she just raised her hands in defense.

You're pager went off. You looked at it. It said 211 which meant that Addison paged you. You looked up at everyone's faces, most of them smirked.

"Is that your lover?" Izzie teased you.

"I hate you all, I have to go." You got up from the table and headed toward Addison's office.

You felt like you was going to throw up. You haven't seen her for a few days, after you left her apartment that day you couldn't go back. You felt stupid. You told her, you told her you felt something and she just sat there looking at you so you left as soon as you could. You didn't want to make things awkward between you, you had already passed that stage when Addison found out that your friend was Meredith.

You stood in front of the door urging yourself to knock, and when you finally worked up the courage you almost ran out of there.

"Hey, you paged me," you said looking into the office.

She was sitting at her desk, looking much better than a few days earlier. Although overall she always looked good which was unfair.

"Can we, ummm... talk about what happened?" She asked looking at you with a slight site of embarrassment in her eyes.

"Oh, sure. Why not?" you said ironically. "So I told you I have a crush and you looked at me like I was crazy, then I felt like I actually was, so I left and been avoiding you since then."

She stood up from the desk and faced you. You both breathed loudly.

"I didn't look at you like you were crazy!"

"You know when was the last time I said I liked someone!?" Now you both raised your voices. "What are you doing?" you asked confused when she came so close that you could feel her breath on your face.

"Would you just stand still?" She asked and came close enough that your lips touched in a kiss.

At that moment you thought you could fly. Your knees bent under you as soon as her hands reached your hair. God she kissed so well. Her lips were softer than anything you've ever known. It was sweet, effortlessly sweet. You wrapped your arms around her waist, her hands were in your hair. You lost yourself in her.

You break the kiss. You felt dizzy. You swear you could still feel her lips on yours. You were breathless for a moment, the silence was now filled only by your breathing.

"You..." you whispered.

"I didn't know what to say, y/n. I've never been with a woman... It's just so confusing because, I would know what I should've done that day, if you were a man but you're not and... I like you, I never even thought about falling in love with a woman. It's just... You're so caring, beautiful, smart... I..." Her eyes were running all over the room.

"Look at me," you breathed. Her blue eyes finally looked straight into yours. "God your eyes are so beautiful." You ran your thumb over her cheek. "We don't have to rush anything. Baby steps, okay?" you asked her and she nodded.

"Baby steps." She bit her lip. "Now, please kiss me." You smirked and pulled her closer to finally put your lips in a long kiss.

#addison forbes montgomery #addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #greys anatomy #oneshot

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

MEIII!!!! Hope you had a good day!!!!

I was thinking 🤔🤔🤔 an ex gf of Hotch comes to work w the BAU & they hadn’t told anyone abt it but the Bau girls help R unpack find photo albums old pictures of her and their boss (hot)

You had intended to be more careful when letting your new teammates dig through boxes in your apartment, but they had each brought over bottles of wine as housewarming gifts, and the first thing you'd come across were your glasses. So now that there's a healthy buzz over your brain, making it just a little bit hard to focus, you don't notice Penelope reaching into the box that says memories.

She squeals at a baby picture of you, an album full of your childhood memories in her hands. You think nothing of it, still slightly intoxicated to where you don't forsee the next album she'll pick up. Emily and JJ flock to her side, crooning and cooing over your past self, but when they shut the album and reach for the next, and your brain finally switches on, you're not fast enough to stop them.

"Woah, that guy- holy shit," Emily laughs, her own mind clouded as she points sloppily at the man kissing your cheek in the first photo, "That guy looks like Hotch."

JJ snorts, but Penelope falls silent.

Of course, you think, of course she's seen pictures of when he was younger. You'd expect nothing less from the BAU's resident snoop.

"That is Hotch," She breathes, alcohol be damned as she puts the puzzle pieces together, "Oh my god, you dated Hotch!"

"Oh," Emily laughs, eyes wide and giddy and dazed, "You dated Hotch!"

"I- I didn't date Hotch," You huff exasperatedly, wine forgotten on the counter, "I dated a man from law school. He was not the same person."

"You mean this was before someone shoved a stick up his ass?" JJ eyes you incredulously, "I thought it was placed there at birth."

"He doesn't have a stick up his ass!" You feel the inexplicable urge to defend your boss, despite him having left you reeling in college, "He's- he's got issues. Stuff you don't even know about. Everyone does, we've all- we've all got issues."

"What happened?" Penelope asks, her voice soft and worried, "He didn't cheat on you, did he?"

"No!" You let out a huffy laugh, "No, he didn't cheat on me. We just parted ways because- well, our schedules were tight. We never saw each other, when I had a day off he was working, and vice versa. He wanted someone with a more adjustable schedule."

"That's not fair," Penelope's eyes glaze over with tears, that you're sure are only partially from the wine she's consumed, "That's not fair, to stop loving someone because they're busy. He was busy too, what- why were you the problem?"

"It wasn't like that," You gush, but it was entirely like that, "Listen, we were both stressed all the time. I don't know if you've ever tried to be lawyers, but it sucks. And- and we never saw each other, and we were young, and stupid, and we hated our jobs but we couldn't quit, and- and it was a mess! And I'm glad," You peter off your emotional speech with a soft whimper, "I'm glad he found someone who had the time to love him. Because both of us deserved that, just-" You sniffle, your eyes stinging with tears, "Only one of us got it."

"Oh, honey," JJ laments, reaching for you with both hands now that her wine glass is set aside. You dodge her hands, though, excusing yourself with a shitty excuse and a hurried walk to the bathroom.

There's no tissues. Of course there's no tissues, you haven't had a moment to live in this apartment since you'd set foot in it. Work was always getting in the way, like it had for your entire life.

You're not angry at Aaron for leaving you. You weren't a good fit for each other, not with your careers taking off as they were. In all honesty, you might have broken up with him yourself if it had gone on any longer. But you're jealous in a way, that he found someone who had the time for him while you didn't. And that's not his fault, you shouldn't be resentful that he found love just because you didn't. Your feelings for him comes from loneliness, not anger. But they read the same, and you're sure your new teammates think you're silently raging at your new unit chief.

After a quick wash of your face in the sink and a makeshift toilet paper tissue, you step back out into the living room, three pairs of eyes trained immediately on you.

"I appreciate that you're taking my side here," You hum, a knot in your throat the size of a fist, "But it's a closed matter. We haven't spoken in years, and I feel like we still haven't. He's different now, he's not the man I dated, and I would like it if you would be able to forget that this happened."

Emily is the first to speak up, "Okay. Okay, honey, we understand. But- but please don't ignore your feelings if they're starting to resurface. At the very least, you deserve closure."

"And hey," JJ smiles, trying to look eager but looking mostly sad, "If you wanna give things another shot, he's single and you work with him. At least all the time you spend working now is with him, too."

"Yeah," You let out a light chuckle, still bogged down by the ghost of the tears you'd wiped away in the bathroom. Penelope can't take it anymore, and rushes in for a squeeze.

"Oh, sweetheart," She gushes, "It'll work out! I bet you're gonna have this crazy-sweet second chance romance kind of thing, and we'll all be at your wedding!"

"Slow down," You laugh, thankful that you have her shoulder to snuggle into, "We haven't even acknowledged that we used to date yet. Let's wait until the proposal to start talking about the wedding."

A good-natured laugh is shared throughout your small apartment, and the photo album is set back in its box for safekeeping. They give you the courtesy of unpacking it yourself, just in case any stray memories come to haunt you. You're grateful for it, and it's easy to slip back into your wine-fueled giggle fest while working on your bookshelf instead.

Mere miles away, Aaron is sitting on the floor of his bedroom. There's a photo album in his lap, one half of a pair, the other half of which he hopes isn't in a landfill somewhere. His eyes are trained on a photo you'd taken on winter break from your sophomore year of school, skis strapped to your feet and poles in your hands as Aaron hugged you from behind. You'd done the Titanic pose on the side of the ski hill, your arms outstretched and Aaron's face twisted over your shoulder to gaze endearingly at you. It's a blurry photo, because your friends had taken it from the bottom of the slope, but the memories of it are crisp in his head.

He hears the patter of little feet down the hallway, and doesn't have the energy to close the book before Jack sees it.

"Daddy?" His son's little voice asks, "Who's that?"

"Do you recognize," He hums, flipping to a clearer picture of the two of you, and pointing to himself, "Him?"

Jack's face scrunches, nose wrinkled and eyes squinted, "Is that you, daddy?"

"It is me," Aaron chuckles, "I looked younger, huh?"

"Yeah," Jack nods emphatically, poking at his dad's cheeks, 'Now you have wrinkles."

Aaron scoffs, "Thanks, bud. What'cha need?"

"I'm just bored," Jack huffs, looking back at the picture displayed in the book, "That's not Mommy. Why are you kissing her?"

"I met her before I met your mommy," Aaron hums, ghosting his pointer finger over the page, "But we broke up. Then your mommy and I got married."

"Why did you break up?" Jack cocks his head to the side, "You didn't love her as much as Mommy?"

"I loved her," Aaron muses, "But we both had really busy jobs. And we never saw each other, so it made us sad. So we broke up so that we wouldn't be so sad anymore."

"Oh." Jack frowns, "Okay. I'm sorry you were sad."

"It's okay, buddy," Aaron slings an arm around Jack's side, kissing his chubby cheek, "I'm not sad anymore. Well- sort of. Do you know why I'm looking at these pictures?"

Jack shakes his head, "Mm-mm. Why?"

"She joined my team," Aaron informs his son, watching the gears in his brain turn. "So I'm a little bit sad now, because seeing her makes me remember how sad I was when we broke up."

"But," Jack drags out the vowel, "If she's on your team now, then you see her all the time! And you were sad because you didn't get to see her, but now you can be happy again!"

"That's- uh, kind of." Aaron shuts the book, turning to face Jack fully, "I think I might be a little bit sad forever about us breaking up."

"Forever," Jack frowns, relying heavily on the fact that he's been told he'll never be sad forever, "Why?"

"Because we can't fix it." Aaron sighs, "We can't go back in time and stay together."

"But you can date her now," Jack prods, and wow, Aaron needs to give him more credit, "Why do you have to be sad forever?"

"You'd be okay with me dating someone else?" Aaron asks carefully, "Someone who isn't your Mommy?"

"It it makes you happy again," Jack nods, "I don't want you to be sad forever, Daddy."

Aaron's struck with tears that he tries to tamp down. His nose runs, and he sniffles shakily, "Thank you, bud. You're sweet, you know that?"

"Mm-hm," Jack nods, "Penny tells me."

"Yes she does," Aaron laughs, a watery sound as he pulls Jack in for a hug, "Every time she makes you cookies, she tells you you're sweeter. You should know by now."

"So," Jack gets right to the point, "Are you gonna date her again, Daddy?"

"I don't know," Aaron hums, "Maybe. I have to ask her, first. And I don't think I should ask her right away."

"You should share your lunch with her," Jack instructs, "I gave Ellie one of my oreos at lunch, and now she's my girlfriend."

Aaron's brows raise, "Wow. Do you like having a girlfriend?"

"Yeah." Jack nods simply, "She's nice to me. We take turns pushing each other on the swings."

"Well, maybe we'll both have girlfriends soon," Aaron grins at his son, "Do you think we should go out on a double date? Like, we both take our girlfriends out to eat together?"

"Yeah!" Jack shouts, enthused by the idea, "We should go to get ice cream, though. Ellie really likes chocolate."

"Okay," Aaron chuckles, letting Jack wander off to pick through his toy box, renewed hope in his chest at the thought of sitting side-by-side with you in an ice cream parlor, "Sounds like a plan, bud!"

#aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader

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madwomansapologist · 7 months

Text

like a virgin, like a prayer | shan yu

Navigation | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: It's been months since you had agreed upon being his lover, and weeks since you truly became it. Now all you can think is about how much you want Shan Yu. All the time, in every way. And so does he.

warnings: smut. consensual/non consensual voyeurim. strip tease. exhibitionism. public nudity. public/non public masturbation. loss of virginity. gentle sex. oral sex. blood. size kink. shan "i will make it fit" yu. praise kink. creampie. age gap. kidnapping. shan yu (i need to respect my wife) x reader (just fuck me already, please). yandere!shan yu. female!reader. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020).

A bird of prey. That's what he truly is. More than a warrior, than a strategist: Shan Yu is a watcher. He analyzes, observes. And when he find a focal point, he don't let it be. Just like his falcone, it's on his nature to watch when no one knows they're being watched.

And you're the object of his desires and curiosities. You're the mistery he can't seem to unravel. Every little thing you do, from the way you look at people to the things you say when you're alone with yourself, facinastes him.

After all, that's how he meet you. Watching you when you thought you were alone. That's how he fell in love. Watching your soul echoing through the woods. Apparently what people say is true. Old habits die hard.

Shan Yu wanted to get drunk on every aspect of you. The way you walk like you don't have time to waste. How you do your hair on the mornings. Which clothes can steal your interest when you're walking on a village. How sometimes you will randomly look at this sky, breath in, and come back to your routine.

He likes to know who you're when there is no one else around. Your reaction to the book you're reading when you're alone bellow an ash tree, how silence seems to restore your energy, how you can be really mad over little, insignificant things. Shan Yu wants to see you with no filters.

It's not his fault that he wants you whole.

Even thought you're his prisoner — now you wholeheartly agreed to be his bride —, you're a free spirit. He can see that by the way nature works on you. Shan Yu can take you from others, if it was on him no one would ever deserve the privilege of your presence, but there is a limit for the things he can take from you. And he would never take swimming away from you.

After your classes for war strategic, his guards make sure that you won't be bothered by anyone feeling stupid enough to mess with what belong to Shan Yu. You can have your fun for how long you desires, the only thing he asks is for you to eat from time to time. So for a couple of hours, is just you and the freedom water gives you.

And him, of course.

Watching from afar. It's like you're a deity. Shan Yu is on his way to conquer China, but if you asked him to conquer the sea it would be yours. It already is. He will just make others surrender to you.

The thing is that now you're aware of him.

Maybe at the beginning you weren't, but now you're familiar enough with the weight of his careful gaze. You can feel it burning your skin. Instead of being the object of his gaze, you feel like the watcher. Shan Yu observes you, just as you observe him. You like to play a little game: you put yourself on his place, and imagine what he's thinking about.

When you take care of your skin and he is so quietly doing nothing on the other side of the room, you like to imagine Shan Yu is trying to learn what to do if you ever ask him to help you. When you choose new clothes and you feel his eyes lingering on you from other side of the path, you like to pretend he's picturing you on them. When you read and he's hidden into the woods, you imagine him taking notes of what book he should gift you next. And when you're on a lake, you want Shan Yu to imagine you naked again.

Just as when he first meet you.

You don't swim without your clothes anymore, and you do it to make sure that his imagination will work on your favor. You ain't sure why, but him imagining you is way more interesting than him seeing you. To picture him picturing you is your little, constant sin.

But you would prefer if he joined you.

You miss his touch. Don't matter how long it have been since you were next to him, you miss Shan Yu. You always want him close to you. And when you miss him, the memories of your first kiss comes to haunt you.

It was an trap, one that his army fell right into. Usually the Hun army travels to battle, but this time it happened inside the camp. Kids, old people, workers that have nothing to do with that war: everyone was in danger.

Shan Yu knows you can fight, you train with his army, but that doesn't mean he will let you go with him to any battle. The thing is that this time he couldn't control the situation.

You wandered towards him, a sword in your hand and courage on your chest, knowing that he was doing the same.

Shan Yu kicked a man's legs, breaking it. His sword cut his throat open, but a scream came to his ears. When he turned, Shan Yu saw your sword passing throught a open chest. With blood staining your face, you let the body fall and looked at Shan Yu. "You're hurt?"

Shan Yu marched towards you, the world burning behind him, and pulled you by your waist. He almost took you off the ground, you supported yourself on him, and brushed the blood on your face. When he kissed you, it was like there were only you two in the world.

You felt his.

And now you want to be his. In every way. You'll never think that way if Shan Yu was a man from your village. You'll never be respected if you layed with someone before wedding them, don't matter how much you love one another or how bad you need to do that. That would never, ever happen.

But he isn't a man from your village. You're not there anymore. And you don't want to wait any longer.

When the camp was set close to a region filled with thermal water, you had an idea. Ond that you were too eager to ignore. Too hungry to not consider.

The guards walk you to a certain point, warning you that when the ring beels you'll have ten minutes to get there before they went looking for you. Feeling his gaze burning your skin, you did the rest of the path.

First you took your shoes off. You touched the water, it was so warm. So perfect. You carefully held the hem of your dress, pulling it out slowly. Step by step you dive into the water. With water brushing against your collarbone, you sat facing where you knew he was.

That was your invitation for Shan Yu to join you.

So you waited.

And waited.

But nothing happened.

Frustrated, you imagine what else would made him get of his secret place and just do something already. You closed your eyes, bite your lips, and then you found a answer.

Shan Yu makes you feel shiny and new. Free, but also owned. In control, and also controled. Shan Yu makes you fell like you have nothing to hide. So you didn't.

You weren't sure if he could see your fingers from so far away, so you made sure to keep your face still. You wanted him to see every fraction of a different expression. As your fingers pressed against your clit, for a second you felt like your moans could echo throught the whole wood.

After you came, your body shaking from pleasure and adrenaline, you dive into the water. You felt suddenly so embarrassed. Embarrassed for liking it so much. Embarrassed for not being even a little bit ashamed of what you just done.

You set a trap for him. Now it's with Shan Yu.

At dinner, you finally saw him. In a tent with all his generals, even when discussing important matters you could sense his eyes lingering on your skin.

"How long will we stay here?" You took a sip from your glass. "In this village."

Shan Yu breathe in before answering you. "Three more days."

You pouted. "What a shame. I liked this place. The woods here are so calm. And so lonely."

Shan Yu suddenly stand up, not worrying about excusing himself. You said something to the generals and asked one of his adivisors to take care for the rest of the night. Shan Yu was faster than you, but you saw him heading towards your shared carriage.

"Hey," you closed and locked the door. Shan Yu stopped in the middle of the room, his hands pressing against his head. Behind him, you put your hands on Shan Yu's shoulders, massaging his skin. "You're feeling unwell?"

Shan Yu sighed. You could feel his determination melting into your touching. It was a key to make him act as you wanted. All he wants is to be loved by you, and if you show him this love... "If only you knew the things you do to me."

You bit your lips, controling the smirk. "Are you mad at me, my sun?" You practically purred.

Shan Yu turned to you, his long hands holding your face. You felt so safe. So perfectly fine around him. "No, my moon," Shan Yu kissed your forehead. You almost felt guilty by teasing him so bad. "Never at you."

"Then I don't understand," you put your hands on his. "Why are acting this way? Maybe I can help you."

Shan Yu touched your forehead with his, and you closed your eyes. His breath was warm against your skin. You kissed his thumb.

"Drink with me."

You didn't knew if Shan Yu was asking or demanding. Either way, you nodded. You sat on your shared bed, and watched him serve you both from his personal wine.

"You told once me about a bad experience with a matchmaker," Shan Yu opened the bottle. He gazed over you for a second, then went back to the wine. "That made me wonder."

"About what?"

Shan Yu may be a lot of things, but he isn't a coward. He didn't fear your answer or your reaction, he wanted to hear the truth. So he asked for it. "You we're promised to someone?"

That wasn't what you were expecting to hear. "Yes," you admitted. "When I got old enough, my parents made a deal with his. We didn't got married because he was called to serve the emperor."

Shan Yu sat in front of you, handing you a glass. You took a sip of it, and hated the taste. Shan Yu like his drinks strong, but you prefer them sweet.

He caressed your feet, resting close to his thights. "Have you laid down with him?"

You tried the wine again. It was horrible still, but at least it had alcohol in it anyway. "Not with him," his fingers brushed against your legs. "Not with anyone else."

Shan Yu squeezed your skin lightly. "It's my duty to honor you, my moon." There were a different fire on his eyes. Something almost palpable. "Just as it's my duty to satisfy you."

"What you mean by that?" You knew exatcly what he meant.

"You're so young. It's normal for you to have needs. Desires," his cold fingers made to the sensitive spot behind your knees. "For you to want more from me."

"Is that why you are so nervous?" You drank the rest of the wine and put the glass on the floor. "Because you want more from me?"

Don't matter what, your words keep on surprising Shan Yu. You will never stop to amaze him. "Yes, my moon."

"If you want it so bad," you smiled. "Then take it."

Holding your legs, Shan Yu pulled you closer. He carressed your face, his fingers so cold against your skin. When he kissed you, all your worries and fears just disappeared. It was impossible to feel anything but love and lust.

His kiss moved to your chin, your cheeks, your earlobe. When you flinched, you felt his smile against your skin. Shan Yu kissed your neck, your shoulders, your hands.

Looking at you, glaring deep into your soul, Shan Yu made something burn inside you. You looked away, so he held you by your chin.

"Don't do that," Shan Yu brushed his fingers against your lips. "Let me see you."

"I don't know what to do," you revealed.

"You don't need to anything." Shan Yu carressed your face. "Come here," he tapped his thights. "Let me take care of you."

You crawled towards him, sitting on his lap. You supported yourself on your knees, your hands on his chest, not wanting to put all your weight on him.

Shan Yu grabbed your waist and pulled you down. He came back to kissing you, this time his hands wandering throught your body. One found a home on your hair, the other squeezed your waist. You put your arms around him, letting he get deeper into your mouth.

Shan Yu pulled the string of your clothes, revealing your body once again for him. His fingers brushed against your collarbones, circled your tits, held your hips. "The gods must envy your beauty," he whispered into your mouth.

He laid you down on the mattress. You felt weighless. So small in comparison to him. His hands went down your spine, nails scretching your skin lightly, and grabbed both of your legs. He opened them, and you never felt so exposed before.

One thing was to undress for him. Other was for him to undress you.

"Breath in," you did as he said. Shan Yu kneeled between your legs, and it was almost impossible to think. "Breath out," once again you behaved.

As his face got near your sex, his breath made you close your legs. He hold them, opening you for him again. He warned you with his yellow eyes.

Shan Yu licked you slowly. You trembled bellow him. His nose brushed against your lips, and you bite your fingers. He was so calm, so patient. His licked your lips, sucked your clit, used his tongue to stimulate you whole.

When you whimpered, Shan Yu got eager. He pulled you by your hips, getting you even closer, and his hands went up to your breasts. You moaned his name, and for a second he almost lost control.

He bite your inner thights, and then licked it. Your breath was already a mess. His tongue wandered through your tummy, your chest, your breasts. Shan Yu grabbed your hand, taking it off your mouth.

"I will hear you," he demanded. "Don't hide yourself."

You held him by his forearm. "I want you," you moaned. "Please."

Shan Yu could've cum just by the look on your face. "It will hurt," he said. As if you didn't knew. "You don't need to."

He closed his eyes, trying to regain control over himself. To feel your taste on his tongue, your smell on his upper lip, the warmth of you bellow him. Shan Yu felt like a starving man being welcomed home with a full supper.

But you are no something he wants to consume. Shan Yu wants to devour you, to know every inch of your skin and all that things that make your body tremble. But Shan Yu don't want to take from you something he will never be able to give you back just because he wants to. He needs you, but you need to be the one chosing to do this.

"I'll stop," he moved away from you. You felt incomplete without his weight upon you. "I must stop."

You put your legs around his hips, locking him with you. "Make me feel yours," you purred. Don't matter what you sounded like: were the one demanding now. You stroked his forearms, trying your best to find the words you need. "I'm starving. Don't go."

You had seem him shirtless before. At training, after a battle when blood stained his body, when he went to sleep. But to see him whole... that made you lick your lips.

He was big. So big. You almost regret ever doing that. But his cock also made you salivate, so you pretend that you weren't scared. You wanted him inside you. You wanted Shan Yu to make you whole.

Even if it hurts.

Shan Yu slid his cock on your lips, and you felt yourself getting wetter. So warm. It twitched against you. When he started to enter you, you closed your eyes. This time Shan Yu let it pass.

It burned. Your insides ache, and it's been just the beginning. He was so thick. After a few seconds without moving, Shan Yu tried again.

This time you whimpered. "Fuck," you cried. "Wait, I..."

"As you... wish," Shan Yu moaned against your neck. You were so tight. So warm. You would be the end of him. "Stop squirming."

"I'm sorry," you cried. You tried to move away from him, but Shan Yu held you in place. "I hurted you?"

He groaned. "No, my moon," he whispered. Shan Yu strucked the skin of your hips, trying to calm you down. He could already smell the blood. "Far from it."

You held his hands, trying to not get lost on your mind. "I don't think it will fit," you whimpered. "It's too big."

You really were trying to made him go crazy, weren't you? "I will make it fit."

After a few seconds, you nodded. Slowly, Shan Yu did as he said. He made it fit. And by doing that, he reached a point that even through all that pain made you roll your eyes. You tried to forget about that burning pain and focus on his cock pressing against that sweet point.

When his fingers brushed against your clit, you held him closer. Your nails digged into his back, and your teeths into his shoulders. Shan Yu didn't care about the pain. All he did was to hold your head as he moved slowly.

"I think I..." You couldn't do anything but to feel, and you felt so much. You were drooling. "Fuck, Shan Yu..."

"You were made for me," Shan Yu whispered into your ears. "Made for me to love, for me to fuck you."

Not a word he said made to your brain. You couldn't hear him. You couldn't do anything but to feel tortured by how he kept on hitting that spot again and again. If you cry, it won't because of the pain.

When you trembled, it was like you died for a second. The pleasure hit you in waves so much stronger than you. Maybe you cried his name. Maybe you screamed it. Maybe you bit your lips until they bleed. You don't know. All you know is that it was so good.

With you shaking bellow him, Shan Yu came inside you. He groaned like an animal, and maybe at that moment he really were one.

"I think I drooled all over you," you chuckled as you cleaned his shoulders with your hand.

Shan Yu held your hands and kissed them, looking deep into your eyes. "What do you need?"

"A bath," you carressed his lips.

Shan Yu watched as his cum covered your lips. Your used cunt glowed. Such a pretty sight.

He took you into his arms, your legs around his hips, and lift you from bed. You giggled, once again feeling so weighless around him.

"Then I shall bath you," he said softly.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #prisoner/bride au #shan yu scenario #shan yu fanfiction #shan yu fanfic #shan yu mulan #shan yu x reader #shan yu #shan yu fic #shan yu x you #shan yu x y/n #disney classics #disney villains #disney animation #disney movies #disney villain scenario #disney villain x reader #disney villain

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mitsies · 6 months

Text

❊ a night to remember - dazai osamu . . you're a barista in the middle of a turf war. dazai is assigned to babysit.

the café you work at is nowhere near 'fantastic,' like the critics acclaim.

it's situated on a busy street corner, right next to an even busier airport. this draws an unfortunately large amount of new customers. you cringe thinking about the poor foreigners, unable or unwilling to purchase overpriced airport cuisine, who find refuge (and a meal) at your workplace. it must be an awful first experience in the country, you think.

despite the wealth your employers must've accumulated from an ever-rotating customer base, you don't think a single dime has ever gone towards improving the place. the outside seems nice enough, but the appliances are hardly functional. paint peels off the walls in the back, and the windows have long since been sealed shut. it gets way too hot in the summer. tables are rickety and every time someone takes a seat, you fear for their life. a small hole in the wall exists right by the entrance to the back, and sometimes when you go to close shop you hear skittering (which you pray is a mouse and not a ghost.) the good part about this, though, is that a little cat frequents your block around nighttime. she's the only reason you enjoy working at the joint, really, especially since it's open so unusually late, meaning you have to work stupid hours. who needs coffee and sandwiches at 10 at night?

you wonder how your shoddy little place of work has passed a single health inspection. you also wonder how you're still alive, because you're pretty sure that there is black mold growing in the storeroom. that, and the fact that you're all too often worked to the bone. your boss never does much, and your coworkers, though lovely people, take way too many sick days to be normal. you think the black mold may have gotten them. either that or they're lazy and love to see you suffer. more often than not, you're the only one working the busy café all day. that place would be a mess if it weren't for you, you like to believe.

it's an unusually slow night when the cat comes by to visit. she's a little thing, with a fluffy grey body and tiny white paws. her nose is a black button framed by white fur and long whiskers. you call her misty, like the character from pokémon.

you haven't gotten a customer in a while. you suspect it's because of the bad weather; your usual clientele of travelers are all seeking shelter within the airport, not daring to venture out quite yet. misty herself is dripping water all over the entrance of the café, but she's too cute for you to care. you walk out from behind the counter to pet her with the back of your hand. your skin comes away damp and covered in a thin layer of cat fur, which is a little gross but you've seen worse while working here. she meows. from your place by the door, you can see outside to the rain-soaked sidewalk. hard droplets of water pelt down like hail, staining the world a shade darker. you grimace, because there's no way you can walk home in this downpour.

"what do i do now, misty?" you stoop down to stroke the cat a little more. she purrs a little, and her long fur continues to stick to your hand in its dampness. nasty.

standing back up, you make your way to the back of the shop to rinse your hands in the sink. you aren't expecting anyone to come in at this point, not when it's this late, and not in this weather. you are proven very wrong when you hear the door creak open, and misty's meow before she scampers away to a far corner of the store.

plastering your best customer service smile on your face, you look up and move to the counter to greet the new arrival. you expect them to be a particularly brave traveler, and you imagine the mess of rainwater you'd later have to mop up off the floor. you are, however, pleasantly surprised by the sight of one of your favourite regulars. "oda!"

he's usually not in this late. but he gives you a small kind of smile as he closes the umbrella he holds and stores it in the designated area, bless him. you, to this day, wonder why he chooses to come to this raggedy little shop enough to be considered a regular. the coffee isn't that good, and the pastries are always a little dry, in your opinion. plus, it's just gross. maybe you're just a hypochondriac, though, because oda seems like a smart and sensible man who would not come to a café that would give him diseases. probably. you hope.

he's a kind, quiet person. you don't know much about him, if anything at all. he's got your name memorised and always greets you, and he tips well, and he asks about your day sometimes. you think he's sweet. maybe not smart, actually, if he keeps coming back. or maybe he's a health advisor coming to collect evidence to shut the place down— oh, you could only hope this is true.

misty, upon realising it's just oda, walks her little feet back over towards the entrance. the tall man bends over to pet the little cat, and for the first time, you catch sight of another person behind him. a boy. he's tall, or at least taller than you. but he doesn't look like much. a set of spindly limbs, bandages covering one eye, while the other is sunken and tired. a coat hangs loosely from his shoulders. you wonder if he's been eating enough. in a flash, though, his eyes connect with yours. it's brief, and awkward, and he stares straight into you like he can see through your skull into your thoughts. a shiver runs down your spine. he might look your age but there is something about him that tells you he has been around far too long, and seen enough for lifetimes. oda stands back up, cutting your view of the boy off. you readjust, trying to shake off the uncanny veil that's just descended on your little store. "your usual, oda?"

he smiles again. "please. thank you."

you dare look at the boy again. "and anything for you, sir?"

his gaze flickers back towards you. it's less heavy than before, but still, a force resides behind it. he hums and smiles. it seems hollow. you try to pay it no mind. "nope."

you nod briskly and go about preparing oda's drink. in your periphery, you watch the pair settle down by a table on the side wall of the shop, right against a big window. oda's back is facing you and you can feel his companion's eyes following your moves every so often. you try your best to ignore it, the way his eyes carry a pressure that drills into your skull.

it's 8:07 at night when oda gets a call. you aren't eavesdropping, but you don't miss the furrow of his brows and the vacancy that passes through his eyes. he'd probably leave soon. you purse your lips; might as well close once these two leave. they came in half an hour ago, and not a single soul had even passed out the door since.

sure enough, oda stands. he fishes around in his wallet for a crisp bill— another reason why he was your favourite regular, his tips never fell short— and gives you a polite, tight-lipped smile. the mystery boy follows suit. he doesn't spare you a glance, though, not until oda halts at the door as if something's just occurred to him. he turns back to the counter and calls your name. you look up from where you were wiping down some ancient appliances. "everything okay?"

he nods, and his head involuntarily falls to the side inquisitively. "how are you getting home tonight?"

you grimace. "i'm walking."

oda and the mystery boy exchange a look. you presume it's the heavy rain they're concerned about, so you pipe back in: "it's okay, though! i have a spare coat in the back. i think."

the boy gives you another look. like you're an idiot, like he knows something you don't. you'd wonder what was going on, but that was likely above your pay grade.

oda turns back to his companion. you hear them exchange words quietly, quiet enough to be drowned out by the rain still pouring outside. they are discussing far too intensely for it to be just about the rain. at the end of the spirited conversation, oda looks resolved, and the boy looks.. upset? disgruntled? he looks more his age, that's for sure. younger, even, like a petulant child. you would laugh if you weren't so on edge.

something is off. it's like the air in the shop has suddenly grown heavier by a hundred tons. it's suffocating. you are more excited than usual to close early and go home once these two finally make their exit. but then the boy sits back down. you fight the frown growing on your face.

oda is still standing. he takes the umbrella by the door and taps it against the entrance matt. clear flecks of rainwater fall down into the fabric like a small scale version of the downpour outside. he turns back to the boy, and then swivels to face you with a small, polite smile. "thank you for the drink. i hope you don't mind that my friend dazai is staying here for a while to avoid the rain."

you want to die. staying at your place of work for the next few hours until the official closing did not seem like an ideal night. mentally you mourn the night you planned to have when you got home early; goodbye to your cozy blanket, and warm bed, and movie and popcorn. but making coffee isn't that hard and you're basically paid to be nice and stay up late, so you just smile back and say, "no problem! we close at 10, and it'll probably have calmed down by then. probably."

oda nods and walks back out the door. misty meows at his heels, until he's out from under the overhang and gone from sight. faintly, you can see his silhouette blue-lit beneath streetlights, only if you squint. after a few beats, even the shadow of the man is gone.

you slump back down onto the counter, and then slide back up because you'd just cleaned it and now you'd have to do it again. a resigned sigh escapes past your lips, and you look up to see that the boy is looking at you. what was his name again? dazai? you somehow manage a nice-enough smile, looking back into his hollow eyes. he remains expressionless; it unnerves you, like a glass of cold water down your back. awkwardly, you begin, "do you... want anything to drink now? or eat? i'm going to have to throw all these out soon."

his heavy stare leaves you for only a second as you gesture vaguely to the display case of pastries. he looks like he considers it for a second before he smiles and says, "a chocolate croissant seems good!"

it's uncanny, the way the hollows of his eyes misalign with the tone of his voice. he sounds happy. he sounds young. but the way his joy is displayed is strange. it's a mirror. like he's only watched other people be kind and learned to imitate. as if he's pretending to be human. you can't look into his eyes anymore. instead, you turn to warm up the pastry without words.

when you move to bring the pastry to his table, you find dazai surveying the glass door, as if he is mesmerised by the rain still falling in heavy torrents. your plan is, originally, to slide the treat in front of him, smile and say nothing, and speedwalk away back to the counter and pretend to be busy cleaning until the stranger either a), leaves, or b), the rain stops and you can get out of here. however, it seems that misty has other plans. in a motion that you're sure she intends to be a show of affection and not a ploy to humiliate you, she runs in front of your legs and headbutts your ankle, causing you to trip over. you land with a less-than-gracious huff, and barely manage to pull yourself up from your stomach to your knees before you feel dazai's eyes back on you.

there is a small smile on his face, that creases his visible eye. you frown ruefully, and move to rise and apologize for the disruption. but to your surprise, he stands to help you up. his extended hand is slim. he has thin fingers, like wire, and a wrist wrapped in fresh, white bandages that show through his white button-down. his hands are just as cold as they look.

"graceful," he comments as he pulls you up. you purse your lips, choosing to ignore his comment.

"i'm sorry. i'll remake your food."

he considers you for a moment, looking you up and down. suddenly, you feel very seen. in a strange, unfamiliar way. you hope your apron isn't askew or messy. you hope you don't look as frazzled as you feel. why do you hope that?

"no worries!" and thank god he says that, because you truly are not in the mood to be doing much of anything. but you ask the obligatory, 'are you sure?' to which he just says, 'i'm sure,' so the whole conversation was redundant, really. shifting back to behind the counter, you begin to clean out the display case. and you're really finding yourself in a cleaning flow until dazai's voice breaks through your haze. he says your name. you're confused as to how he knows your name, until you realise you wear a nametag, and then you're just a little embarrassed as you reply, "yes?"

"does oda come here often?"

you glance up at him while wiping a shelf with a rag. he's not looking at you, rather staring back out into the rain. misty is approaching his table. she's usually shy; you wonder if she will let him pet her.

"often enough. he's usually here once or twice a week. never usually this late, though."

at your response, you see out of the corner of your eye as dazai shifts to face you, transfixed on the methodical motions of your hands cleansing the mess of the counter. he hums, "really?"

"yeah. he's one of my favourite regulars." and you almost leave it at that but your curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask, "what are you both doing out here at this time, anyways?"

dazai considers you. then he turns back away with a ghost of a smile. "business calls."

you can't help the look that crosses your face. what a tasteless answer. so dramatic. and then, something clicks. you blink. your area was under port mafia protection and recently, a rival group has been posing threats to it. it's never affected you, always in the western district of your area, so you've never really paid it much mind. you blink. so, this boy was affiliated with those groups. either the mafia or the rebels, but you're inclined to believe that it's the former because of his crypticness and the sheer amount of black he wears. (you're honestly a little surprised you didn't clock this sooner. no normal people dress like that.) your neurons are firing at a rapid pace, making connections. so... was oda in the port mafia too? your eye twitches. you have been serving a mafioso black coffee and almond muffins for months without knowing.

when you finally look back at dazai, he's watching you again. there's something like curiosity painting his expression, more than you've seen from the boy since he walked in. you're maybe perhaps a little shellshocked so all you can manage to ask is, "am i in trouble?"

he laughs an echoey, hollow laugh. you're embarrassed but also a little indignant because you think you have a right to know, maybe. "you haven't done anything. as long as i'm here you'll be fine."

your eye twitches again.

"so i am in trouble, then."

dazai frowns. "you have such little faith."

for a split-second you forget that he is a member of the most dangerous organization in all of yokohama and not just a boy your age, as you retort, "it's hard to have trust when the person left in charge of my safety looks like he weighs the same as my cat."

misty meows as if she understands you. dazai blinks. you blink back, before adding a tasteful, albeit a little uncomfortable, "with all due respect. sir."

and he smiles. it's a familiar one. faint smile lines appear, his left cheek creases deeply enough to dimple. it's a real, earnest smile. he looks young and alive like the boys at your school. he's cute, almost. you can't help but smile back, just a little. suddenly, you're thinking about his hand again, and how it felt in yours. you turn away with a light exhale and busy yourself with wiping down cases again.

"oda told me that he 'appreciated your sardonicism,'" dazai muses, "and i didn't know what he meant until now."

you turn the sink on and begin to sponge down various mugs. "thank you, i think."

"you're welcome."

menial conversation follows. dazai asks about your work, and you're glad he chose this topic, because really, you could complain about this establishment for hours if someone gave you the opportunity. he listens intently as you talk about your coworkers and manager, the abysmal pay, and the ghastly sanitary standards of the place. to this topic, dazai glances around and questions you.

"maybe you're a hypochondriac," he says, "it looks clean enough to me."

you stare at him, hands still in the sink, covered in suds. you blink. was he blind?

you're about to respond, when the door opens. you glance at the clock; 9:48. twelve minutes before closing. you're about to try and muster up the last of your energy to be the best barista you can be before dazai speaks first. "oda. you're back early."

thank god it's oda. you look up to see misty run to him purring, as he puts his umbrella down. "we finished up the..." he glances carefully up to you, "business early."

dazai waves a hand dismissively. "they know."

oda raises his eyebrows and looks at you. "you do?"

"i do," you affirm, "you keep less-than-subtle company."

"hey!"

you and oda both ignore dazai. the taller man addresses you instead, "then you should know that it's safe to go out for tonight. and the rain is stopping, too."

you exhale. it'd been easy to ignore how stressed you were about the 'dangerous situation' that you'd been told nothing about happening right outside your place of work. and then, it clicks; dazai was distracting you from all that on purpose with his torrent of questions. you look back at him. he simply smiles.

oda speaks again. "i'll be back tomorrow morning to check on things. get home safe."

turning to dazai, he states, "the car is waiting outside. take the umbrella."

his departure leaves three people in the shop, like it's been for the past hour; you, dazai, and misty the cat. so, two people, you guess. and you can't help the twinge of sorrow that makes itself known inside your chest at the fact that this may be the first and last night that you see him. the only thing you can say is, "it was nice to meet you, dazai."

he stands. misty makes a cat noise. he meets your eyes and there is something less than hollowness there. his smile seems more real than before.

"you'll see me again," he almost promises, as if he could read your mind.

"good," is all you have time to reply, before he is out the door. you bite the inside of your cheek to restrain the grin that is breaking out from across your face, "good."

flowers chosen: pink camellia & forget-me-not . . longing for you & don't forget me

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#i have not touched bsd in so long i am sorry ..#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #reader insert #mitsies 5k #insp by “a night to remember” by laufey & bea <3 #this was gonna be longer and more dramatic but i had to cut it off bc too long!

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scekrex · 3 months

Note

It's me, yes it's me! I know you were all waiting for me! :DD

Yes, yes, it's an another crack fic, yippeecayay, mfers 🤠 Adam and reader arguing about something, might be something stupid or something serious, obviously they still love each other but both of them are insanely stubborn so neither wants to admit they are wrong. The reader goes to cool off, he meets up with a friend and start to just vent his frustration to them when lo and behold, Adam shows up to... Well "apologise" in his own unique way and it's basically him just seeing the location where reader is (They're sharing their locations, Adam's heart cannot handle anymore stress with reader going missing even if for a few minutes), showing up with his badass axe guitar and strumming it, going "I love you bitch... I ain't ever gon' stop loving you... Biiitch", reader's friend just looks at him with the biggest "Really? You actually LOVE him?" and reader just looks back at them with the goofiest grin: "We'll, he's dumb and overly stupid, but he's my dumb and overly stupid man" shrugging his shoulders and goes to Adam to kiss him, just to then smack him and then kiss him again 👀

Babes, I once again have to say that I love your crack prompts, at this point these r the air that keeps me alive bc holy fuck they make me laugh every fucking time.

Do you even

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, fighting (not physically but verbally), slightly cracky

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam, just shut the fuck up for a second, would you?” you exclaimed harshly as you massaged your temples in order to try and keep calm.

He had been ranting about his bitchy band mate who had ditched him last minute before an important gig and you had enough of it. Ever since the both of you had woken up in the morning all Adam had been talking about was ‘how fucking done he is with that bastard’ and ‘how fucking dare that whore to ditch him last minute because he was the fucking Adam and the fucking Adam wasn't someone you'd ditch to fuck some random - and ugly, his words not yours - bbl bitch'. “Just shut the fuck up for a couple seconds okay? I get it, that fucker ditched ya, it was shitty of him, but for the love of God, stop acting like a motherfucking child and get the fuck over it.”

The brunette's hands were on his hips as he shot you a venomous look, “Well, if you would care you wouldn't mind me bitching about something that meant a whole fucking lot to me.” You couldn't help the huff that escaped you as you closed the gap between the both of you, your index finger aggressively tapping his chest as you looked up at him. Because what the actual fuck? You cared, you cared a lot and usually you didn't mind it when he was bitching about something, but you've had a headache all day and Adam wasn't being helpful with his constant talking. You couldn't even bring yourself to feel sorry for snapping at him, you had told him that you weren't feeling well today and yet he had strictly ignored that just for his own benefit. “You know what? Fuck you, Adam. You can suck my fucking dick for saying that. I fucking care, okay? Any ordinary bitch would've left you by now but I fucking didn't because I love you, for heaven's sake. So quit the motherfucking attitude already,” there was truly no way for you to swallow all the anger that was seething inside of you and you really couldn't care less. “I’m out of here, fucking call me when you decided to quit acting like a goddamn manchild,” and with that you grabbed your phones and keys and rushed out the apartment.

Once the door was shut you broke down entirely. Yes, you and Adam had different options on some things, nothing major though, but fighting like that? That was a thing that had never happened before, not when you started dating and especially not after you married him. Fighting with Adam felt exhausting, you hated how your heart hurt - it almost felt like physical pain. So you did the only logical thing and unlocked your phone to call your best friend.

Arlo was someone you could always count on and that was proven one more time when the man had pulled up to the park in no time - that's where you had asked him to meet you - and he came in company of milkshakes. He handed you the cup as he sat down on the bench next to you. “So, you finally figured out that Adam is a huge bitch huh?” that earned Arlo a glare. Yes, you were mad at your husband, but that was no reason to insult the man you loved so dearly. “Quit it, I'm not breaking up with him because of one single fight,” you mumbled as you took a sip of your milkshake, realizing Arlo had managed to get you your favorite flavor. That brightened the mood at least a little. “Look Y/N, I'm all for love ‘n’ shit, but Adam, seriously? I mean you of all people should know how big his ego is and he just proved this by ignoring your well-being,” the blonde continued to rant about your husband and while Adam's ego was huge, his love for you was bigger.

He didn't let outsiders notice the ways he looked at you during gigs, he made it seem casual when his wing wrapped around your shoulder when you two walked through the streets like it was a thing people casually did - they didn't. Touching the wings of another angel, let alone use your wings to shield someone was a big deal due to the wings being hypersensitive. He always remembered what you liked and what you disliked, no matter what you were talking about. He knew and respected a lot of things when it came to you, things he didn't even tolerate when it came to others. He loved you and while for strangers eyes it wasn't visible, it was everything to you.

“Arlo, I didn't fucking call you so that you can tell me what a shitty husband I have, he loves me and I love him, he cares and just because we had one fight in six thousand years won't make me throw this relationship away so you either shut it or you leave, that's up to you,” you snapped at the blonde angel next to you and it seemed to do the job because Arlo closed his lips around the straw of his own milkshake and seemingly swallowed all the hatred he hold for Adam. You knew Arlo was trying to cheer you up, but he was doing a shitty job at that. Down talking your husband wasn't something you would let slide wordlessly. Because when Adam wanted, he was very much able and willing to serve you the world on a golden platter. He had risked a lot for you already and you were aware he would do it all again.

In the meantime Adam was still at your apartment. The second you had slammed the door shut behind you he realized how badly he had fucked up. There had always been different options on certain things, that was fine though. Usually you guys were able to talk it out and find a solution that made both of you happy, you never had a fucking fight in over six thousand years and now the fight had been intense enough to result in you leaving.

He had fucked up badly and he knew it.

But he couldn't just wait for you to come back. In the name of the almighty lord above, Adam wasn't even sure if you'd come home for the night. What if you were to stay with a friend until tomorrow, maybe even longer? No, he needed to solve this now. So he did the first thing that came to his mind and checked your location.

When you two had just started dating he had been losing you a lot, mainly because whenever you saw something that you liked or that you thought he might like you were running off to get that thing. So the two of you had agreed to constantly share your location with each other and ever since then that had never changed, these days it was a simple habit. The little icon on the map was pinned on the park. Good, that wasn't too far.

So the man grabbed his guitar and left to apologize.

Arlo’s eyes scanned the park for a moment, then he groaned quietly, “Speaking of the devil.” You turned your head to look over to where your blonde homie was looking at and couldn't help but roll your eyes.

Adam was walking straight towards you.

He had his guitar in his hand as he confidently walked across the park just to stop in front of the bench you and Arlo were sitting on. You weren't the only one annoyed by Adam's presence, the blonde angel next to you was just as pleased to see the leader of the exorcists as you were and he let Adam feel that they didn't want him there. “The fuck you think you're doing?” Arlo hissed at the brunette who was simply ignoring that they were even there. He sighed as you looked at you, something in his mimic told you he was sorry but you weren't able to see the guilt in his eyes due to his stupid mask. Fuck, he really couldn't leave that thing at home for just one day, could he?

Adam adjusted the guitar in his hands, made sure his fingers were placed on the right strings and then he started to play a kinda shitty sounding tune - knowing Adam it was shitty on purpose, there was no way he'd accidentally play bad. “I love you, bitch,” he spoke the words more than he sang them but it definitely made your lips twitch up in a grin. Arlo shot you a critical look, they were having none of it. “I ain't ever gon’ stop loving you,” there was a pause, then he finished, “Bitch.”

And that made you full on chuckle, the glimpse of hope that was suddenly visible through Adam's expression showed you that he knew he had fucked up, that he was sorry. And maybe he would apologize properly once the two of you were back at your apartment. “You’re not gonna simply forgive him with that sad excuse of an apology, right?” Arlo asked in shock as you got up and took a step forward to be able to wrap your arms around the first man's waist. “You ain't ever gonna stop loving me, huh?” you asked teasingly as your finger poked him in his side which made him flinch a little. “Dude, Y/N, he fucking overstepped boundaries and you just gonna forget and forgive because he pulled out his shitty guitar and played two chords?” Arlo complained and stepped up to the both of you, they seemed genuinely furious about it. “The fuck’s your problem man, this ain't your fight, this is our thing to deal with,” the brunette growled at them but they didn't care. To be honest, they never cared about anything Adam said or did to them, no matter if it was something positive or negative. “You’re seriously telling me you love that guy?”

You weren't giving Arlo the satisfaction of attention, instead you pulled Adam's mask up so that the LED face was resting on top of his head and the horns of it were near his neck. “I want a proper apology once we get home, if I don't get that, I'll find some other place to crash at for the night, am I clear?” you explained how it would go, all the playfulness was gone, there wasn't a smirk on your lips anymore and your eyes told Adam that you were serious about it, “And then I'd like to talk it out so that we can find a solution in case that shit should ever happen again.” The leader of the exorcists was quick to nod, followed by a loud and clear, “Yes, sir.” And for the moment that was enough. Enough to lean in and kiss him. Adam melted against your lips immediately, a small moan managed to slip past his lips. But the kiss ended as abrupt as it had started and Adam felt your hand on the back of his head, the mask caught most of the hit but he still felt it, “You fucking idiot.” That made said idiot grin one of his stupidly cocky grins, “Maybe, but at least I'm your idiot.” This time it was him who started the kiss, his wing quickly came up to block the view for Arlo, who was watching the two of you a little too intensive for Adam's liking.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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