#Ask me your turn With the dawn in your eyes
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Young Love and Old Money
Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader
Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring
You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.
“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”
You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”
Max grins. “I can handle it.”
The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.
Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.
This dinner needs to go perfectly.
Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.
“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”
You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”
Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”
You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”
Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”
Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”
Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”
You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.
The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.
“Delicious,” Max compliments.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”
You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.
But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”
Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”
“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”
You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.
The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.
Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”
Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.
You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.
You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”
“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”
“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.
“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.
You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.
“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.
Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.
You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.
Oh no.
This is bad.
Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”
Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”
You sink down in your chair, wincing.
Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”
A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.
Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”
Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”
You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.
“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”
“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”
Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”
You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”
But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”
Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”
Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”
Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”
“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”
Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”
Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”
Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.
Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”
“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.
You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.
Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”
Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”
Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”
You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.
As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.
He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”
***
The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”
You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”
The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”
Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”
You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”
“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”
“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.
In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.
“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”
Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”
“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.
You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.
“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.
The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”
You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”
Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”
You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”
“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”
You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.
You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.
This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.
Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.
“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.
You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”
Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.
It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.
“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”
You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.
Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”
You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.
“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”
He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”
You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”
Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”
He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.
Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”
Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”
Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”
Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.
Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.
***
The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.
You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.
“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.
“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.
You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.
“You’re the greatest, Max!”
“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”
“We love you so much!”
You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.
As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”
Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.
“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”
You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?
Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?
Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.
Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.
Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.
You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.
“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.
Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.
“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”
He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?
Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”
You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.
“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”
Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.
“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.
Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”
Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”
Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”
Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”
You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”
He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”
Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.
“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”
Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”
You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”
Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”
He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.
For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.
Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”
The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.
By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.
As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”
He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”
You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.
“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”
His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”
You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.
***
The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.
“You ready for this, liefje?”
You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”
This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.
You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.
Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.
About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”
Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”
The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.
“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”
You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.
“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”
Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”
You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.
The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”
You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”
“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”
You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”
The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”
You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...
You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.
“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.
You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.
“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”
Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.
Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.
You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.
Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.
Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.
"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”
The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.
After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”
He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”
Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”
Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Max.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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Steps and Swishes
a/n: promise the next part will probably have more of the professional dancing lol
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: none!
***
In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate your body's resilience, its unwavering stamina that carries you through the literal marathon of your day. But as you navigate this relentless sprint, you find yourself hoping there's still some fuel left in your tank when you reach the audition.
Waking up late was never part of the plan, especially not on a day when a crucial audition awaits. "Crap!" you mutter under your breath as you hastily exit your dorm room, clutching a piece of bread in one hand and your phone in the other. Each step is a stride toward salvaging what's left of your punctuality.
For the most part, things seem to be going smoothly as you dash towards the building. Until it’s not.
You wrench open the glass door of the lobby and dash into the elevator, heart pounding with each passing floor. Finally, as the doors slide open, you burst forth into a labyrinth of corridors, your destination painfully close. Or so you think.
Just when you believe the worst is behind you, you turn a corner and collide with an unexpected obstacle: a cascade of blonde hair and scalding coffee.
“Fuck!” The word rips from your lips as you stagger backward, the searing liquid seeping through your clothes. With trembling hands, you peel the wet fabric from your skin, eyes fixed on the ruinous stain spreading across your once pristine white shirt.
“Holy shit,” the figure mumbles, “I didn't mean that at all. Are you ok?”
A hand reaches out hesitantly towards your shirt, then freezes awkwardly in mid-air. It's the final straw.
Your gaze shoots up to meet the woman in front of you, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, but all words die on your tongue as you're confronted with wide, concerned eyes. Eyes that you know all too well, belonging to none other than Paige Bueckers.
Going to the same school as Paige Bueckers had never really stood out to you until today.
"I'm so sorry," Paige says, glancing down at your shirt, her hand still suspended awkwardly between you. Silence hangs heavy in the air. "I… I'll buy you a new one, I swear. Let me make it up to you."
In that moment, you realize that even if she were to buy you ten or twenty shirts, it wouldn't change the fact that you're about to miss your audition if you don't hurry. The inconvenience of the situation dawns on you in full force.
You let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze flicking from your stained shirt to Paige and back again. Then, once more, your eyes travel from her to your shirt. You can't help but notice how effortlessly chic and pristine her shirt appears compared to your own.
“Take off your shirt,” you deadpan without much consideration.
Paige's eyes widen further, resembling a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?” she stammers, inching away slowly.
You, however, couldn't care less if she looked at you as crazy. “You said you wanted to make it up to me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow before gesturing towards the bathroom behind her. “I have an audition in five minutes, and unless I want to blow my shot, I need to look presentable.”
The blonde hesitates, her gaze shifting between your outstretched fingers and the bathroom door. Then, with a slow turn of her head, you can almost hear the gears in her mind grinding to a halt. “And how does me taking off my shirt help you?”
“Just get in there and swap shirts with me,” you grumble, shooting her a soft glare. “It'll be quick. Once I'm done, you can have it back. Deal?” You silently pray she doesn't call the cops given how stupid and crazy you must sound, but the desperation in your eyes seems to sway her as she hesitantly nods.
“Alright, fine.” she sighs, walking towards the bathroom.
***
For the most part, the audition went relatively smoothly. Well, except for the fact that you received a barrage of odd looks for bursting in looking disheveled, with the invasive aroma of coffee clinging to you like a second skin. You could swear they caught whiffs of it every time you executed a dance move. But on the bright side, Paige's shirt did align nicely with the hip-hop theme they wanted, so hooray for small victories, you suppose.
Exiting the room, your shoulders sag immediately. Scanning the area for a familiar blonde, you finally spot Paige and make your way over, tapping her shoulder gently.
Startled, she quickly turns off her phone, giving you her full attention. “How'd it go?”
You shrug, not feeling up to sugarcoating it. “It was alright, I guess.”
Paige's expression deflates. “Gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your audition.”
“Nah, don't worry about it,” you try to brush it off, though your voice betrays a hint of frustration. “If I hadn't been such a klutz and actually woke up on time, I wouldn't have been in such a rush, and none of this would've happened.”
A brief silence lingers between you two before Paige breaks it. “Hey, let's make a deal,” she proposes, suddenly piquing your interest. “You can hang onto the shirt for now. I'll take this one,” she taps the stained area with her palm, “wash it, and give it back to you later.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Really? I'm totally fine with changing again. Why would you even let me take your shirt home—”
“Just…” she interrupts, sounding almost exasperated, “It's just a way for you to trust that I won't flake out and keep your shirt or something,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “If you have my shirt, the only way I could get it back is by washing yours and swapping. I know it sounds silly.”
You chuckle. “Maybe just a little.”
Paige smiles, briefly averting her gaze before meeting your eyes again. “Just… let me clean it. I already feel bad enough.”
With a resigned sigh, you give in to her plea. “Fine, give me your number.”
Paige retrieves her phone with surprising speed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She clears her throat, opening her phone and displaying the number pad. “Are you usually around campus? You look like a student.”
After entering your number, you call yourself and retrieve your own phone as it starts to ring. “Yeah… I'm just looking for a part-time gig for now. Nothing too demanding.”
The blonde's interest is piqued. “So, what was the audition for?”
“Just some dancing,” you murmur, half-expecting her to burst into laughter like some others might. But instead, her reaction is one of genuine shock.
“That's awesome! KK would love you,” Paige jokes, and you audibly release a deep breath, grateful that there's no mockery in sight.
“I'm… flattered. Though I'm afraid she might work me to the bone with TikTok dances.”
Paige erupts into laughter, bending over in amusement before regaining her composure. “She might, but she means no harm, I promise,” she says, her expression turning more earnest. “You might have to swing by and show us some moves.”
“Hmm, I might just have to do that,” you reply with a smile.
Paige rubs her hands together awkwardly. “Well, I'll let you go. I don't want to hold you back any longer. I'll definitely text you.”
You nod, “I'll look forward to a white shirt”
She smiles before excusing herself. As you go about your way, you can't help but glance back, only to find the blonde has beaten you to it, snapping her eyes away from you in an instant.
***
The next morning breezes by in a blur. You manage your early classes and decide to take the afternoon off, indulging in a leisurely lounge session that rivals the pace of a sloth. Despite knowing you should probably get moving, the mere thought of tackling errands or practicing feels like an insurmountable task.
You flop onto your back on the carpeted floor, idly gazing at the ceiling until the tranquil silence is abruptly shattered by the muffled buzzing of your phone. With a lazy stretch, you reach for your phone, glancing at the notification.
One text message.
Sitting up, you unlock your phone.
‘Hey! It's Paige. You know, the girl who spilled coffee on you? Yeah, you probably remember that. Anyway… I cleaned your shirt, and I promise it's good as new. Do you want me to swing by your place or are you cool with coming over here?’
Your fingers move instinctively, typing a response before you even fully process it. After all, if THE Paige Bueckers was extending an invitation to her place, who were you to refuse?
‘I don't mind coming over there.’
Three bubbles appear in the corner of the screen.
‘Great! My room is 12C. Just drop by whenever you want.’
‘Alright, I'll be over in a few minutes.’
‘Perfect, I'll be waiting for you.’
You toss your phone aside, feeling an unexpected surge of energy coursing through you. Where it comes from, you're not entirely sure, but you're certainly not going to question it. Not when it propels you onto your feet in a heartbeat.
Without pausing to overthink, you head for a quick shower, ensuring you look somewhat presentable before getting dressed. There's a pitifully evident spring in your step as you make your way to her room, clutching her freshly washed shirt against your body.
However, all semblance of confidence evaporates upon coming face to face with the blue door, 12C stamped at the top. One. Two. Three seconds pass, and you find yourself rooted in place, your arm trembling slightly before dropping back down.
“Shit…” you mutter, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. But you gather your resolve and decide to just go for it.
Almost instantly, you hear shuffling from behind the door, accompanied by distant thuds before it creaks open. Two brown eyes peer out, catching you off guard. You barely have time to process before she gasps, almost comically.
“Oh my god, you're the coffee girl, aren't you?” The girl, whom you now recognize as KK, swings the door open wider, smiling like a child.
“Um… yeah, that's me,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck and holding up Paige's shirt. “I'm just here for a simple exchange.”
“Girl, come on in,” KK drawls, gesturing for you to enter. “She's down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks,” you chuckle.
It's pretty wild how much they're trusting you, but at this point, does it even matter?
You make your way down to what you presume is Paige’s room, rapping lightly on the door.
Paige answers swiftly, her attention seemingly elsewhere. “Kk, I swear to go—” Her gaze lands on you, and her eyes widen abruptly, words faltering. “Oh, my bad. Thought you were that airhead.”
“Hey!” Kk's voice rings out from the other side of the dorm, prompting a giggle from you.
“Come in, come in. I didn’t realize you were here already,” Paige says, opening her door fully. She strides over to her bed, where a neatly folded white shirt rests on top.
“I like your cologne,” you blurt out before even thinking, immediately regretting your lack of filter. You scramble for an excuse as Paige turns to you, her expression unreadable. “I-I mean, your shirt… I'm assuming it was your cologne. It smelled nice.”
She smiles. “Really? I’m trying something new. Must've smelled better than the coffee, huh?”
You step closer to her, the distance between you diminishing. “Anything would be better than that, to be honest. Imagine dancing while drenched in coffee.”
Paige winces, stepping nearer to you. She extends your shirt towards you. “Yeah, sorry about that again. But don't worry, I made sure it was all gone.”
Taking a moment to really take her in, you absorb every detail you may have missed in your earlier rushed encounter. The way her eyes sparkle, the curve of her smile, the subtle flex of her arms. It's almost overwhelming for your heart to handle.
“Here. I washed yours too.”
“Aww, you didn't have to,” she reply with a cheeky grin. “Now I owe you again.”
“I'm always up for some food,” you shrug, though you don't really mean it. “A broke college student will take what they can get.”
“Deal,” Paige says, her tone shifting slightly more serious. “We could even go now if you want.”
“Wow, didn't expect you to actually say yes. I mean, aren't you like… a celebrity or something around here?” you comment, feeling a mix of surprise and flattery.
Paige shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “What, are you worried they'll mistake us for a couple or something?”
“W-what? No…” you stutter, feeling your cheeks flush at the mere suggestion.
“I'm just messing,” she says, turning her head expectantly, her gaze soft yet playful.
It seems to effortlessly dismantle whatever defenses you had put up. “Fine,” you relent, smiling as Paige's face instantly lights up.
“Sweet. Hold on, let me grab my stuff,” she says, brushing past you, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of her room. You shift on the balls of your feet until…
“Psst!” Your head snaps towards the doorway as KK looks positively gleeful, biting her finger to stifle a laugh. “You're still gonna dance with me, right? Don't go flaking out.”
“Of course I am. And I’m going to beat you with all those TikTok dances,” you retort, a playful spark between the two of you.
KK gasps dramatically, clutching her shirt. “As if!”
“Alright, KK,” Paige interjects, returning from wherever she went, patting KK on the shoulder with a tad too much strength, causing the smaller guard to wince. “That’s enough.”
You catch the shift in Paige's tone, and she shrugs softly once she notices your gaze on her. “Let’s go?”
You nod and follow closely behind, but not before whispering a quick, “It's still on,” to KK, chuckling as her mouth hangs open in silent protest.
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Winter's King 12
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a good weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.
“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt.
“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine.
“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.
He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway.
“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...”
You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him.
You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs.
You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.
You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game?
You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you.
You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude.
You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands.
You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges.
Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray.
You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame.
“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.”
“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?”
You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.”
“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?”
“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.”
“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--”
“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.”
Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--”
“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.”
The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are.
You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on.
“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?”
“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...”
“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again.
You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--”
“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.”
“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.”
You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor.
As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down.
“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.”
“Thank you, sir, I am fine.”
“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.”
You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?”
“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.”
Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something?
“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--”
“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.”
“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--”
“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.”
Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master.
“I would not,” you repeat.
He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.”
“Sir Bryce--”
“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.”
You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.”
He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it!
And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid.
⚔️
You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure.
“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.”
You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north.
“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.”
You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly.
“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?”
She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.”
You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest.
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.”
She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.”
You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant.
“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.”
You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls.
“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.”
You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away.
“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.”
She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid.
“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.”
You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands.
“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.”
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#the witcher#series#au#medieval au#winter's king
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Of Nightmares and Memories | Twelve | Azriel x Rhys' Little Sister! Reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven
You laughed as you walked through the forest with your mother and Michaa, your maid. Though, you almost could have believed she was your father’s bastard daughter. In another life, maybe she could have been your sister. You were on your way to meet Rhys, before continuing on to the War Camps to the north.
You hated The Illyrians and their prejudice, but you loved your brother, Cassian, and Azirel. Although you weren’t sure if you’d see Az or Cass on this trip. It’d been too long since you’d laid eyes on them though, and you were aching to feel their arms around you.
“How much further?” You groan, dropping your wings slightly, “Can’t we just fly?”
“You know the winds are too strong today, my love,” your mother informs you softly, “I think we’d all father fly anyway, you know how much Michaa loves it.”
The young woman only grinned and turned her eyes towards the sky. She was Illyrian too. Wings unclipped thanks to having been born in Valaris. Why she wasn’t in Illyria you weren’t sure, but you were glad to have her. Your life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without her by your side for all of the trouble you caused.
You close your eyes for a moment and reach your power out, focusing on the soft shadows that lurked by the trees. You weren’t as good at commanding them as Azriel, but you had a small kernel of that power dwelling inside you. Something your father knew nothing about.
I’m coming, you willed them to say. Before searching for their master. You felt his mental shields, just as strong and powerful as he. You stroked down those shields, gently, sensually. Begging for entrance to his mind.
I’m in a meeting, his voice fills your mind.
I plan on sneaking into your tent this weekend.
And you swear you can hear him groan. Not in frustration, but in wanting. You can feel it rippling through his mind. You smile down at your feet, heat rising in your cheeks. You knew the effect you had on him, just as he knew the effect he had on you. You were playing a dangerous game.
Your father would likely kill Az if he ever found out. Which is why you had to get good at sneaking in the shadows, using them to conceal you from prying eyes. You were a quick study though, and was beginning to master the skill. Az was always proud of you when you manages it.
Don’t get me in trouble today, he warns, although not sounding very convincing, I doubt the Lords would like it very much if I start smelling like I want you as badly as I do.
You pause, nearly tripping over a fallen log. Your mother gives you a knowing smile, seeming to understand who you’re talking to. She only knew because she once caught Az sneaking out of your rooms just before dawn. Her and Rhys had been out flying all night and were just returning. She only smiled and turned around, wishing you both a goodnight as she went.
I doubt my brother would like it very much.
Minx.
But you can hear the laugh in his voice. It fills your head and your chest, filling the void that always seems to be there when Azirel is not near. You rub your chest subconsciously, feeling that void a little more today knowing you’ll be seeing him in just a few short hours.
“Rhys will winnow us to the camps, won’t he?” You ask your mother.
“Yes dear, he’ll winnow you and Michaa first and then come back for me,” She tells you once more.
I want everything with you, Az.
I want it all too.
You smile to yourself, knowing he meant it. If only your father wasn’t the male that he was, maybe you’d be allowed to follow your heart. Free to love whoever you wished. Not be sold for breeding when the time came. But you were still young, only eighteen. Marriage was still a good while away, thanks to your mother convincing him you still had growing up to do. She was right in some ways.
“Pay attention to where you’re walking, Y/N,” your mother warned you, “Your Shadowsinger will still be there once we reach our meeting point.”
You blush ferociously, heat flooding your cheeks so much that it radiated from them. Michaa smiled and let out a little laugh. She knew too, of course. You two sat up late most nights, when you weren’t out flying together, and talked about the Shadowsinger and just how wonderful he truly is.
He’d seen such darkness already in his life, but yet his smile was still so beautiful it took your breath away. Sometimes that smile was reserved only for you. Sometimes you felt as if you were the only fae alive that got to see it, and you were okay with that. With the thought that he only smiled for you, and sometimes Cassian and Rhys. They were his bastard brothers after all. You were different though, you’d never seen him as a brother. From the moment you met him, as young as you were, you knew he was destined to be something else to you. You could already feel that strange tug in your chest, pulling you towards him.
I’ll see you soon, you promise him, sending images of the two of you curled up together into his mind.
You can practically feel him smiling against your skin, can practically feel him against you. You bite your lip, trying to regain control. But he seems to caress you in his mind, making you go weak in the knees.
You pull away from his mind, noting how he seems to leave a small spot open just for you to return whenever you feel like it. You smile to yourself as you continue to walk. You wished you were strong enough to winnow more than one person, so you could just winnow to the camps and be done with this walking.
But you weren’t far from the halfway point where you were supposed to meet Rhys. You would probably have to wait on him, seeing as he was apparently in the middle of training a new unit, but he would come for you one way or another. And he would take you to Azriel, whether he wanted to do so or not.
But the shadows swirled around you as you reached a clearing. Your mother and Michaa falling silent. The whole world fell silent it seemed like. The shadows swirled, reaching your ears as you sniffed the air around you.
Run, they said, run far and run fast.
“Mother?” You question, smelling several distinctly male scents lingering in the air.
She didn’t get the chance to reply before an arrow shot through her wings, causing her to scream out. You screamed too, seeing a flash of blonde hair in your vision, before arms came around you. Your wings vanished, too afraid of what might happen to them. But your mother, Cauldron, your mother’s wings.
They grabbed Michaa next, holding a blade to her throat. You felt the cold steel kiss your own neck as lips caressed your ear.
“Don’t scream,” He said into your ear, “Or I’ll slit your throat.”
You swallow thickly. Fear gripping every part of you. You forgot the training Cassian and Rhys and Azirel drilled into you. Forgot that you weren’t a helpless little girl, that you had powers too. But all you could think of was the fear that gripped you and the smell of blood, your mother’s blood. And the realization that you were going to die, one way or another.
You wake with a start, jolting up in your bed before hurtling yourself into the washroom nearby. You empty your stomach over and over again, before the sound of your bedroom door makes you stop. Cassian is by your side in an instant, rubbing your back.
“I have them too,” He confirms, “Every night.”
“I’m sorry I woke you,” You say softly, feeling the nausea fade.
“I was already awake,” He sighs, sitting down on the floor across from you, leaning against the bath, “I heard you scream.”
“It was that day,” You confide in him, “In the woods.”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” He tells you slowly, “I don’t want you to have to relive it.”
“I relive it every day. Everytime I close my eyes, it’s there.”
His eyes soften at you. He reaches a hand out for you to take. He’d been too far away that day to get anywhere near you. He couldn’t have made it even if Rhys called for him. He didn’t know it happened until it was too late. He made it to the clearing not long after Azirel and Rhys, having flown as quickly as he possibly could.
“It was Lucien,” You spoke after a long while, “I slept with Lucien.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” He replies softly, “You did what you had to do to survive.”
“I did it to survive,” You agree, in your own way trying to convince yourself, “It kept Tamlin from darkening my door.”
He sighs deeply, knowing you’d been through more than any of them. You watch as he gets to his feet, wings tucked in tight, and holds a hand out for you, “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”
You take his hand and allow him to pull you up before slowly walking you to your large bed. Big enough to accommodate wings, you realized. Big enough for more than one winged person. You had a lump in your throat, because once upon a time that was all you could’ve asked for.
You climbed into your bed, allowing Cassian to pull the covers up over you before he walked to the other side and crawled in.
“What are you doing?”
“Not leaving you alone,” He said gruffly, curling his arms around your stomach and pulling you to him, “We all know you slept better when Az was in your bed, but seeing as he’s at The House of Wind, being an ass, I’ll just have to do.”
You swallow and nod. Trying to fight the blush on your cheeks at his admission. You knew, of course, that he knew about you and Az. He hadn’t made his knowing very secret over the years. But was always smart enough to lose his tongue whenever your father was around.
Now he didn’t have to worry about that. Your father was dead. You didn’t mourn him the way you mourned your mother. You didn’t feel the need to mourn him in that way. He wasn’t a loving man. He was the opposite of your mother.
“Why won’t you fly?” Cass asked softly.
“It hurts too much to try and summon my wings now,” You tell him honestly. It seemed that tonight would be the night to let all of your secrets go.
“Hurts too-”
You cut him off by rolling over onto your front, your nightgown cut low enough in the back to reveal two long scars stretching down your back. You know the moment Cass saw them, because he went rigid and sucked in a deep breath. He reached out, fingers carefully brushing the top of the scars.
“Hurts in more than one way,” You confirm, “Emotionally, and physically. The scars are thick, right where the wings should be.”
“You didn’t heal?”
“Faebane.”
He rolls you back over so you’re on your back now. You refuse to look up at him, refuse to meet his eyes. You can feel him staring at you though, you can almost feel his emotions rolling off of him in waves.
You shake your head and roll back over on your side, “I’m tired.”
You feel him nod behind you before wrapping you back up in his arms. You melt into his arms, missing the feeling of being held by someone. Maybe that’s why you turned to Lucien all of those years ago. He was there and he was in pain too, and needed someone to help him move on. He was sweet and gentle and not at all like his ruthless brothers, or Tamlin.
It just seemed to work between the two of you. There was no love between you, no true feelings. It was physical, and that was it. He would occasionally try to go to bat for you against Tamlin, but much like how he was with Feyre, he would never really push his friend for fear of what would happen.
You fall asleep quickly, and do not dream again.
You wake in the morning to the sound of a door opening and a low growl. Fear rips through you and you refuse to move. Even as arms retract from around you, even as the male next to you sits up in the bed.
“You don’t get the option of being mad,” you almost let out a sigh of relief at Cassian’s voice.
You were in the Night Court, you were safe.
“You’re in her bed,” Azriel growls.
“All because you weren’t here,” Cassian shrugs, or you assume he does, “She needed you, and you were sulking because she did what she had to in order to survive.”
“You know nothing about what she did,” Az growls again.
“They carved her back,” You feel Cassian shudder in the bed, “Two long lines, right where her wings should be, like they carved her up trying to get to them.”
You wanted to tell them that he was right. That’s exactly what they did. They carved you up like a piece of meat trying to find your beloved wings. The thought made you want to vomit again. But you refused, you refused to let them see you like that again.
“Get out of her bed.”
“Brother, you know I’m only here to help her,” Cassian said softly, “She needed someone. Preferably you, but I made do.”
The bed dipped as Cassian got up, leaning over long enough to brush a kiss on your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, but he’d been doing it since you were a small child, maybe even before then.
“It was Lucien Vanserra,” Cassian said softly at the door, “Which I thank the Mother for. Because at least he still had a heart, before Amerantha came. For all he’s worth, he was a good male, once upon a time.”
Azirel growls again and shuts the door in Cassian’s face. Az’s shadows make their way towards you, curling around your body as Az slowly moves closer. You know they’ll tell him that you’re awake, but maybe he’ll ignore them and let you continue this farce.
“I’m sorry,” He said pulling a chair up to the edge of your bed, “I should have handled things better yesterday.”
You finally peel your eyes open to see him leaning over, hands folded on your bed. You want to reach for those hands, those beautifully scarred hands. You wanted to kiss them again, like you used to do all those years ago. But it didn’t feel right anymore.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” You admit, “It was wrong of me. I aimed to hurt you, and that’s something I promised I’d never do.”
His head shook slowly, “I hurt you too. I promised I wouldn’t let you go. And instead I turned my back on you the second you said something I didn’t like.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows and reach over to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. You missed his eyes, so telling to you and cold to everyone else. The Shadowsinger of the Night Court, violent, cold, and deadly, yet so soft and warm to you.
“I love you, Azriel,” You admit softly, feeling his shadows gather on your back.
You knew what they were doing, even if he didn’t, but you didn’t try to stop them. He would want to see them eventually. But not this morning. Not when you already felt so laid bare in front of him.
“I know you do,” He leans forward to kiss you, “I love you too. C’mon, Rhys said he should be back today. And Mor is waiting downstairs to eat breakfast with us.”
So you find yourself sipping on coffee and eating a rich pastry with Mor when Rhys, and a very soaking wet Feyre and Amren slam into the floor of the living room. You all shoot to your feet. Moving towards the three quickly.
“What the hell happened?” You questioned.
“I’d like to know the same thing,” Rhys stated.
“Did you get it?” Is all Mor can think to say.
“Get what?” Your head rips to her and then back to Rhys.
“Nothing.”
“No!” You yell, “Not nothing! Obviously not nothing. What happened in Summer?”
And then you hear it, you hear the book.
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And I return with some ghost Obi. Thanks @queenaelinwildfire!
Spinning off of Sparky, ghost Obi haunting Jango
Ooo bonus points if it’s smol obi wan
When the boy first appeared, Jango had been sure it’d been the spice. Hallucinations were hardly new and the young boy who stared at him with frightened eyes was hardly the strangest thing he saw. In fact, the boy who whispered warnings about when the slavers were coming, and told him that Neeva—the young togruta girl a few slaves down—was dying, and told him stories about men in white armor who died forgotten heroes, was perhaps the kindest hallucination that Jango experienced.
Except the boy didn’t go away. Not when Jango killed the slavers. Not when Jango detoxed. Not when Jango left behind all but the scars of his time with the slavers.
Jango hadn’t quite believed in ghosts before, but he had no other explanation for the boy that followed him unerringly from the slavers’ ship to Concord Dawn to the ugly, worn down ship he eventually acquired.
“You have a reason for haunting me, kid?” he asked.
The boy frowned. His hand came to his neck where a collar rested.
Jango had tried not to think about that particular accessory too much.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I… I don’t remember how I got here.”
Jango was going to guess that the answer included ‘dying’. “You need help moving on?” Jango asked. Though he had no idea how he would help some ghost move on. Jaster would have, though.
Jango blocked out the thought.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I don’t think so. I think I’m here for a reason.”
Great. A reason. That explained so much. “What’s your name?”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know.” The boy sounded alarmed, as though he’d just realized he didn’t have a name.
Well, there went trying to track down where the boy had come from. All Jango had to go on was the rough mining clothes the boy was wearing, several sizes too large for him, and the collar around his neck.
Mining colonies weren’t exactly sparse in this galaxy. Even narrowing it down to mining colonies that used slavery didn’t help.
The Republic might claim that slavery was outlawed, but that didn’t mean much, Jango had discovered.
“Do you have a name you want me to call you?” Jango asked, because while Jango could keep calling him ‘the boy’ it seemed…
Wrong.
If Myles were here, Myles would have already named the kid. It’d probably have been something meaningful and well thought out.
If Silas were here, he’d have helped the kid come up with a name on his own. He’d have turned it into a game, until the kid didn’t even remember he was upset.
If Jaster were here…
Jango tried not to think about what Jaster would have done.
The boy frowned and Jango could tell he was thinking. “Obi,” the boy said finally. “I think… I think I like Obi.”
“Obi,” Jango agreed. He wondered if it was the kid’s actual name, hidden in the depths of his mind. “You going to keep following me around?”
Obi tilted his head. “I think so. I don’t want you to be alone.” Obi’s gaze was piercing. “Are you going to go home?” he asked. “Now that you’re free?”
Jango swallowed. “I don’t have a home to go to.”
Obi’s eyes echoed with a terrible sadness. “You’re afraid.”
Jango closed his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, words coming out short.
“Sometimes I dream I can’t go home either,” Obi whispered. “In the dream, I want the desert sands to strip me to my bones.”
Jango flinched, but added the piece of information to the possibility of where Obi had come from. Though, there were a spare few mining colonies on desert planets. The combination was rarely conducive to the most valuable of mining operations.
“It’s not the same kid.”
Obi stared at him. “I think they’d want you to come back.” His hand rubbed at the metal collar around his neck again. “Wherever home is. They… they probably miss you.”
Jango scoffed. He’d gotten so many of their people killed, the ones that remained could hardly want him back. “Not likely, kid.”
“In my dreams, they died because of me,” Obi whispered.
Apparently being a ghost made the kid telepathic. Jango was not a fan. But it was… it was a kid, a dead kid. Jango didn’t have the heart to try to get rid of him, unless it was to bring him home.
“Just a dream, kid.”
Obi looked away. “What if it’s not? Do… do we never get to go home?”
Jango sighed. “Come on, let me teach you how to navigate in and out of hyperspace.” He’d noticed that the kid looked like he enjoyed watching Jango in the cockpit. Sure, the kid would never need the skills himself, being dead and all, but Jango didn’t know what else to do with the dead kid that was stuck with Jango.
Obi nodded, following Jango back to the cockpit. It was the end of the conversation.
Or it should have been.
The question haunted Jango as the months passed. Would he ever get to go home? With the sins that weighed so heavy on his shoulders? It’d been years. Years as a slave and now nearly a year free.
He looked at Obi, who hadn’t aged since the day he’d found Jango in the hull of the slave ship. Just a kid. Always a kid. A dead kid that couldn’t go home. Whose closest thing to home was Jango and Jango’s ship.
Jango had been determined not to think of it, of what he’d lost, of what was gone, of what he could never allow himself to have again.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid was stuck as a ghost? Had he told himself he was never allowed to go home? Had he trapped himself in some sort of eternal punishment.
Jango had never heard of it happening before, but he wasn’t a scholar, and this universe was full of things stranger than Jango could believe.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid had found him? Because he saw Jango’s punishment as his own?
Because this life Jango lived now, constantly chasing the next bounty, with nothing but a ghost at his side… was it a life? Was Jango just as much a ghost as the dead kid that haunted him.
“Where are we going next?” Obi asked when the next hunt finished.
Jango stared at the controls on the cockpit’s dashboard.
Do we never get to go home?
Did he?
The kid needed a home. Jango… Jango couldn’t give him the one he’d been taken from. But…
“Concord Dawn,” he said.
“Where’s that?” Obi asked. “Is there a hunt there?”
Jango shook his head. “No, kid. We’re going home.”
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Tasty (S) (A)
Cw:basketball player!winwin x bádminton player!reader,oral sex,slightly rough sex mainly soft,lots of I love u’s,Small argument,makeup sex,lovey-dovey shit,back scratching,kick back era sicheng 😵💫
Based off this from twt/X :link (NSFW)
A/N: yum yum (im abt to write an nct 127 angst fic after this)
WC: 800-ish
The start to your day was already shit but if badminton practice wasn’t worse you wouldn’t know what was your coach yelled at you for being a minute late and also missing multiple times as you got back home you dropped your practice bag and flopped down on the couch in your shared apartment with your boyfriend Sicheng, he currently wasn’t home since he had basketball practice until 7 so you texted him and dropped your phone down on the couch.As you now just lay there you being to tear up trying to cry but that was a futile attempt as you started to heave tears fall down your face but you quickly wiped your tears hearing the door unlock you see sicheng enter clearly distraught and angry as you bid your hellos to him he ignores you and walks off to the room slamming the door and locking it.You get up and walk to the room door to ask if hes okay as you do all you hear him say from the other side is a annoyed “go away” as you walk back to the living room you sit there sad knowing your one source of comfort is upset but you surpass this and grab the remote to turn on the tv you flip through numerous channels as sicheng exits the room with new clothes dawning a white T-shirt and basketball shorts he glances at you still pretty upset and looks back at the tv ypu turn to him and say hi again but he continues to ignore you and all you say is “Why are you ignoring me?” And that only seemed to make him more angry he looked to you absolutely livid only saying “Just shut the fuck up” as you paused you say “I just asked why you upset I wasn’t trying to make you mad” sounding sadder then ever “Well you did,great now im in an even worse mood” he says with such annoyance and distain in his voice you look away from him and down at the floor you feel yourself tear up again trying to hide your tears from him in hopes that he wont get more upset you curl up on the couch.you glance over at him again now he looks somewhat more calm but as if he feels bad for what he said to you.you wipe your tears but they still fall as you sniffle letting out a small sob,He looks at you turning his neck fast and he quickly cups you cheek in his hand looking at you sorrily “No baby im sorry I didn’t mean to get mad at you like that” no completely sobbing and covering your eyes in your palms wiping off your eyes you look back at him eyes slightly red as you shakily say “no its my fault I shouldn’t have pressed you like that” as he quiets you he softly smiles asking about why your sad and you explain everything to him he kisses your cheek and holds you telling you its okay and he ask if there is anything he can do to make up to you and you hesitantly say you want him as he quickly understands what you mean he lifts you up from the couch and carries you to the room he plops you on the bed and starts to kiss you asks if its okay.
to remove your skort and you nod as you remove your shirt leave you only in your underwear and bra as get up to remove those two articles of clothing he begins to remove his cloths as both of you are now naked he lifts up for legs and holds them back as he faces your cunt he licks your clit you whine in pleasure he continues to eat you out for a couple of minutes you start to moan in upmost pleasure you begin to spew out praise “Fuck chengie im gonna cum” as he lifts his face from your cunt you whine at the loss of stimulation sicheng get up from his position on the bed and drags to the end of the bed as he places your legs around his waist,you wrap your arms around his neck he lifts you up from the bed and inserts his cock into your cunt as he bounces you on his cock hard and fast until you tell him to slow down a little.
and he listens to you as he thrusts into you lovingly you began to scratch his back with your nails due to the pleasure it makes you feel warm inside as you start to random say “I love you” in between moans as he continued to thrust up into your for a few minutes all he could say was “I love you” “your made for me” “your the best thing that could happen to me” “ your my love” “I love you babe” as you moaned in pleasure
As his thrust became sloppy,he cums inside of you filling you up with his cum
As you thank him for pleasing you he replies with “Anything for you baby”
As both of you came at the same sichengs thrust became sloppy as he came to a stop. You both breathe heavily as you drop down to the bed with sichengs cock still inside of you he leaned down to kiss you again.
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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul
[Chapter 56]
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AO3 Link
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Nia and Tobias fly across the Obsidian Sea, and reunite with a couple of familiar faces!
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The next day dawns cold and clear. As Nia and Tobias make the walk to the flying outpost, Nia is quickly woken up by the delicate frost coating the leaf-littered forest floor and the foliage they have to pass through. Her fur feels soaked through within minutes and her paws are chilled, but the brisk pace of the walk helps to warm her up. Well, that and walking a bit closer to Tobias. The charmander seems equally disgruntled about the approaching winter, but he doesn’t snap at Nia for bumping into him once or twice as she leeches off his bubble of warmth.
The sun is just starting to cut through the trees in rays of orange light, melting the frost, when Nia spots the tall structure of the flying outpost ahead of them. She picks up the pace, trotting ahead until it’s fully in sight in the middle of a small clearing. Something like canvas has been tied down to block the open gaps of the structure, acting as makeshift walls to cut off powerful gusts of wind. They billow and blow in the breeze like sails, flapping loudly.
There are only a few Pokemon waiting near the bottom of the structure, but Nia’s eyes lock onto one in particular, large and maroon with a fluffy mane of white.
“Fliss!”
The braviary’s head lifts from where she’d been talking to a smaller, bright orange Pokemon. Even with the intimidating scar where her right eye should be, the way Fliss’ face lights up is nothing short of adorable. “Nia! Well, I’ll be! You looking for a ride?”
“Yes!” Nia slows to a stop in front of the braviary, bouncing on her toes. Both because she’s excited to see the large flying type again and to stay warm. “Are you flying today?”
“Sure am! A little frost ain’t gonna stop me. Where’s that partner of yours? You two still a team?”
Nia turns, just in time for Tobias to emerge from the brush with a sour look. He takes a moment to shake melted frost from his foot. “Here. Just hating winter.”
Fliss laughs and jerks her chin up at the pieces of canvas. “You ain’t the only one. Half our crew’s hiding away until the sun comes out to warm everything up.”
“They’ll have to face the winter eventually,” a new voice says, crisp and even. The bird Fliss had been speaking with before steps closer, and Nia can’t help staring at his feathers a bit longer than is probably polite. He’s a bright orange, the color ending in flame-like tapers and fading into a light gray underbelly. His wings and tail are a striking black at their tips, and streaks of bright yellow band his tail feathers and ring his eyes and beak. He looks like the embodiment of fire, just a head or so taller than Nia and Tobias.
“This ball of sunshine is Comet,” Fliss says, amused. “If you’re lookin’ for a long flight, then he’ll be joining us for the trip.”
Tobias frowns, looking between Fliss and the new Pokemon. “Why?”
Fliss and Comet exchange a loaded look. Then, Fliss sighs. “Was hoping you wouldn’t ask, little flame. We’ve just been flyin’ in pairs lately. Extra safety and all that.”
Nia blinks. “Safety?”
“The winds are more volatile than they used to be,” Comet says. “I promise you we can handle it. It’s just a precaution.”
Nia can’t help wondering what had to happen for such a precaution to be put into place. She shuffles worriedly on her feet, glancing at Tobias. He doesn’t look any more soothed than she feels. No wonder, considering they’ll have to fly over the Obsidian Sea again. An accident over the open ocean is basically a death sentence for a charmander.
“We need to head back to Ghatha,” Nia says, locking eyes with Fliss. “So we would need to go over the ocean. Are you sure it’s safe?”
Nia knows this is technically Fliss’ livelihood, but she trusts the flying type not to lie to her just to make some extra money. Not about this.
The braviary ducks her head in a bow. “I’m as confident as a victini in my flight. But if ya aren’t comfortable, you could always find some water transport.”
“Though the ocean is becoming just as unstable,” Comet mutters.
Tobias shakes his head. “No. No, we’re on a tight schedule. I’ll be fine.”
Nia wonders if he’s reassuring her or himself.
“Neither Felicity or I have had any incidents,” Comet says. “Going together is just extra assurance. New protocol.”
Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. Normally she wouldn’t want to risk it, but they don’t really have any other option. They need to talk to Will as soon as possible, and using water transport would take far too long.
“We’ll fly,” Tobias says, deciding for the both of them. “If you’ll take us.”
“Gladly!”
The cost for travel is a bit higher than it was before—to compensate two ‘mons’ time rather than just one, Fliss explains—but luckily August gave them more funds than he’d thought they’d need. Tobias splits the payment between the two flying types, dropping the coins into the little pouch tied around Fliss’ leg and the small bag tied to Comet’s back.
Finally, it’s time to fly.
“Welcome aboard!”
Fliss crouches low, belly brushing the grass, to let them crawl on. Tobias doesn’t hesitate before taking a firm grip of the bird’s feathers and pulling himself up onto her back. He offers a hand, and Nia gives him a smile of thanks before letting him help her up. She sits behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and grateful for his sturdy warmth.
“Smoother start than last time,” Fliss teases. “Ready to fly?”
Tobias nods. “Ready.”
Nia takes a deep breath. “As ready as I can be.”
Fliss laughs. “That’s what I like to hear! Just hold on tight now. Promise we’ll get ya to Ghatha safely.”
With that, Fliss pushes off the ground with powerful legs, giant wings beating hard to get into the air. She bobs once, then slowly lifts up and up and up. They rise past the outpost and the trunks of the trees, until they’re surging past leaves and into a sky that’s a robin’s egg blue.
Immediately, the wind buffets them, cold and biting.
Nia feels her stomach drop. She ducks her head into the warmth of Tobias’ shoulder, clinging tightly to him. She feels more than hears him sigh, but he doesn’t argue, just patting her arm twice once before holding once more to Fliss’ feathers.
Fliss rises higher and higher until she catches the air current she wants, then levels out to ride the wind. While the bone-deep fear clutching at Nia’s gut doesn’t disappear entirely, it does ease a bit once their jerky flight smooths out.
Nia almost wants to peek out at the world, recalling the brief glimpses of gorgeous, breathtaking views from last time. Plus, Tobias clearly loves this whole experience. It’d be fun to share it with him.
But as soon as she squints open an eye and catches sight of the sprawling forest below, looking as small as a carpet of moss, and the sheer openness of the sky around them, terror grabs her again.
She buries her head back into Tobias’ shoulder, taking deep breaths of his soothing scent to calm herself.
Nia still can’t remember if she’d flown before as a human. She knows planes are a thing, but her memory has only returned in bits and pieces. Much of her history is still blank, like a tapestry that’s more moth-eaten holes than actual thread. Was she afraid of heights in the human world too? Or is her body’s fighting type nature really enough to put such fear into her?
It’s hard to describe the feeling, especially as it engulfs her and makes her feel lightheaded. It’s like as much as she knows they’re (probably) safe with Fliss and Comet taking care of them, her body trembles with the knowledge that if she fell from here, she’d likely die. Her chest feels tight, her heart pounding hard against Tobias’ spine, and panic simmers quietly in the back of her mind.
“You breathing back there?” Tobias asks, head turning enough for Nia to catch the words.
Nia takes a gulp of air. Then another, slower, to try and follow his unspoken suggestion. Deep breaths. Just don’t think about it. You’re fine. Tobias is here, and Fliss is here, and if something goes wrong then Comet is here too.
“C-Can you talk?” Nia asks.
“Uh. I guess? About what?”
“Anything. I-I just need a distraction. Um. What kind of Pokemon is Comet?”
“Oh. He’s a talonflame. Fire and flying type, like a charizard. I don’t know too much about them, but he’s the final evolution in a three-stage form, and I can tell he’s fast. He keeps having to pull himself back so he doesn’t leave Fliss behind.”
Nia can’t bring herself to answer, breath stolen from her chest, so she nods.
Tobias keeps talking. “Uh. I think the first form is called a fletchling? They’re little things, about Junie’s size. Don’t remember the middle form’s name, though. Um…they’re probably pretty warm, if they’re anything like other fire types. That’s likely why he’s comfortable flying so early in the day, when it’s still cold.”
Comet must catch onto what Tobias is doing and what they’re discussing, because when Tobias starts running out of tidbits to share, Nia hears the talonflame’s voice shout to them over the wind.
“Talonflame are certainly a warmer species. We even create fire with our feathers, rather than a flame sac like most fire types. We produce an oil that’s flammable, and generate heat and friction through flapping our wings to ignite.”
“Watch,” Tobias says, tapping Nia’s arm.
Nia whines, but peeks open an eye in the direction of Comet’s voice.
Comet is sailing easily along on an air current, framed by blue sky. Upon seeing that he has her attention, he flaps his wings—once, twice, three times—and small embers spark to life from his feathers, leaping behind him to be carried away by the wind.
Nia’s curiosity just barely wins out over her fear. She lifts her head to watch more clearly as Comet does it again. He flaps once, hard, and flames burst to life around his wings, hot enough that Nia feels a brief wave of warmth. Then he shoots forward, zipping past Fliss.
“Show-off!” Fliss shouts, laughter in her voice.
“She was curious,” Comet counters, voice now on their other side.
Nia turns to look at him, mouth open to ask questions about how they can choose when to ignite, and if fletchlings can do that too, and a hundred other things—
But she catches sight of the Silenfroar Mountains behind the talonflame, remembers where she is, and icy fear grips her again. She buries her face with a whimper, feeling pathetic.
Tobias sighs.
“Want me to take a turn on distraction duty?” Fliss calls.
Someone must give her the affirmative, because she starts talking. “Did ya know that there’s another variant of braviary out there? Psychic and flying type! I met one once, and he could blast enough psychic energy to knock out a wailord. I can pack a punch myself, so I was mostly just jealous that he could use his powers to write! This old gal is forever cursed with illiteracy.”
“You can read,” Comet says, dry.
“Half-illiteracy, then!”
“That’s not how it works.”
Nia giggles despite herself, grateful for her travel companions as they fall into more animated conversation. Like this, if Nia keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths, if she lets the breeze soothe her and imagines she’s just on a windy hillside rather than hundreds of feet in the air, it’s not too terrible. Although Nia wishes she could whip out her blanket without risk of it blowing away. It’s much colder than the last time they flew.
The three Pokemon keep the conversation flowing, shifting from one topic to another, until Fliss finally asks why they’re returning to Ghatha so soon.
“We’re actually going to Stonebrook, a bit south of Ghatha,” Tobias says. “We’re meeting someone there.”
“Oh, Stonebrook!” Fliss crows. “Nice little place. Quaint. We could drop ya off there if you’d prefer, for a bit of extra poke to compensate our time.”
Tobias makes a thoughtful sound that rumbles in his chest. “How much extra?”
“Let’s say 150.”
Tobias mulls it over, and Nia can feel him turn his head as if to get her input.
“Whatever you think is best,” Nia says into his shoulder.
Tobias hesitates for a moment longer before turning forward again. “100 poke and you’ve got a deal.”
Fliss laughs, loud and booming even as the wind snatches the sound away. “Haggler, eh? You know what? Sure. I like you two, so 100 poke it is. Comet, you can have the larger share since I took the lower deal.”
Comet doesn’t answer, so Nia assumes he agrees with those conditions.
Time passes in a blur after that. Nia knows that they have at least a few hours until they reach the land across the sea, but she tries to distract herself by listening to the snippets of conversation around her and thinking about what they have waiting ahead of them. They’re going to find Junie! And see Will again, as well as his human settlement. Excitement mixes in with the nerves in her stomach.
However, it's hard not to let her mind drift to more panic-inducing thoughts too, like their current situation in the air, or their mission from Giratina, or even how much she misses her family in the human world when she has the time to think about them.
Nia wants them here. She wants her mom to stroke her hair and soothe her fear. She wants Clay to make stupid jokes to distract her. She wants Toni to stick her obnoxiously large headphones over Nia’s ears to drown out the quiet roar of the wind.
She misses them so much. Longing aches like a bruise inside her chest.
Nia sniffs and hopes that Tobias doesn’t notice her shaky breaths. Tears prick at her eyes, hot and insistent.
Nia misses them, and she doesn’t even have the full story. She’d hoped that after getting sick and remembering some of her life as a human, the rest of her memories would follow. But after the initial deluge, they’d slowed to a stop. She knows she’s still missing a lot, still has giant gaps in her memory that feel impossible to focus on for too long. What was the last thing she even did with her family before showing up here?
Nia is pulled out of her thoughts when Tobias speaks up, tapping her arm. “We’re at the ocean.”
Nia doesn’t think he means for her to look up, just to update her, so she nods her thanks into his shoulder.
After that, Nia tries to let the loud howl of the wind and the roar of the waves drown out her thoughts and anxieties. Tries to let the sensations surround her in a fuzzy haze.
She’s snapped back to reality by the sudden tilt of the world.
Nia squeaks, clinging to Tobias as Fliss’ considerable mass is knocked sideways by a sudden gust of wind. The braviary flaps wildly to correct herself, and Nia’s stomach flips. Oh, they’re gonna die they’re gonna die they’re gonna die—
Fliss finally manages to catch a gentler air current, leveling out her erratic flight. Nia keeps her face hidden away, focusing on her death grip around Tobias’ ribs and the way he’s clutching at her arm in return.
“Are you two all right?” Comet yells, sounding more tense than Nia would like. His voice is closer too, as if hovering near enough to catch them if they fall.
Tobias squeezes Nia’s wrist, whether to reassure her or himself that she’s still hanging on. “I don’t know if I’d say all right, exactly, but we’re still here. What was that?”
“Rogue wind,” Fliss calls back. “I’ve sailed these currents for more than twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like ‘em. They like to pop up out of nowhere and throw us off course.”
“A symptom of the increasing natural disasters, as far as we can tell,” Comet adds. “It certainly makes travel more difficult. Dangerous, particularly for the smaller flyers.”
Nia’s heart sinks. This is just one more reminder of what they’re trying to stop. Of what will come to pass if they don’t fix the world. Nia can imagine the winds growing untamed enough eventually to ground flyers completely, whipping up storms and typhoons to wreak havoc alongside earthquakes and droughts.
Nia takes another deep breath to ward off fresh panic. This is why they’re going to see Will. They’re going to fix this. All of it.
“Don’t you worry—I’m much tougher than any rowdy wind!” Fliss calls, trying to sound upbeat. “You two just hold on tight and we’ll be sure to get you to Stonebrook safely.”
Tobias nods, but doesn’t respond. Nia, still trying to calm her racing heart, simply holds onto him tighter. She already didn’t like flying, but the thought that the world could suddenly flip and toss them into the ocean at any time is ten times worse. Not that she doesn’t trust Fliss, but she distrusts the current state of nature even more.
“I’ll scout ahead to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Comet calls, just loud enough to hear, before Nia feels another burst of warmth from his flames. He must’ve jetted forward to fly just ahead of Fliss.
Unfortunately, conversation stops after that as Fliss and Comet focus on navigating the rough air currents. Time passes in tense quiet, aside from the rush of the wind and the roar of the waves. Every time a gust of wind shakes up their flight even the slightest bit, Nia’s heart jumps into her throat.
When Tobias finally speaks again, it’s quiet and almost to himself. “Huh.”
Nia tightens her grip on her partner. “W-What? Is something wrong?”
“No. I don’t think so, at least.” Tobias leans slightly, as if peering over Fliss’ side. “Giratina’s following us.”
That’s interesting enough to make Nia look up. She debates with herself for just a moment before steeling her courage, tightening her grip, and following Tobias’ gaze down, to the choppy ocean below.
Sure enough, Nia spots Giratina’s giant, serpentine shape in the broken reflections on the ocean’s surface. He’s following alongside Fliss’ quick pace, winding like a snake through black water.
Fliss notices the legendary’s presence, but she must think it’s another Pokemon because she just gripes about nosy water types before flapping higher to catch a different current. Nia stiffens at the reminder of how high up they are and burrows back into her safe space.
“Surely he has better things to do than follow us around,” Tobias says.
“Maybe we should give him an update?” Nia suggests. “To be fair, he doesn’t know what we’re doing. We could try talking to him through a reflection later?”
“Maybe.”
And with that, they fall silent again.
____________________________________________________________
It’s late morning when they finally make it back to land, and almost noon by time Fliss calls out that they’ll be landing in Stonebrook in a few minutes.
The rest of their flight had been uneventful after that first incident. Comet had successfully steered them around any other severe turbulence, and the cold weather had warmed with the sun beating down on their backs. Still, Nia is beyond relieved to have the end of their flight so near, and she manages to lift her head and take a peek at where they’re going.
The forest below looks different from the one in Bethoc’s Haven. The trees back home are a range of species, mostly deciduous, with spreading boughs and wide leaves that change colors and wither away with the seasons. These trees, even from a distance, stand tall and pointed, a rich palette of greens despite the approaching winter. Evergreens?
Fliss and Comet aim for a notable gap in the trees. As they start to descend, Nia realizes they aren’t just settling in a small grove or clearing, but instead at the edge of a tiny village nestled amongst the trees. There are small buildings scattered throughout the space, built from boulders and slabs of stone propped against one another. Other than a few purposeful openings that are clearly windows, any gaps are filled in with smaller, carefully stacked stones. A stream winds through the town, stepping stones bridging its two halves, and even this late in autumn the whole place feels green and lush, each building topped by a grassy roof. They must be farther south than Nia had realized.
Pokemon are scattered around the village, going about their day. Children are chasing each other down dirt paths, shrieking with laughter, while a couple of adults talk and watch the kids from outside stone homes. Others appear to be doing chores or running errands. One building is seemingly the home of a merchant, and a few Pokemon are crowded around the little window where he’s exchanging goods. Smoke rises from another building, and Nia catches the savory scent of something cooking. Some Pokemon are even riding a cart out of town on the main path, heading who knows where.
Fliss finally touches down, and Nia wastes no time in sliding off her back. The cool, pine needle-strewn dirt below her feet is blessedly solid.
“Oh, thank God,” Nia breathes, sinking to the ground. Her legs are somehow both stiff and flimsy as jelly.
Fliss laughs, lowering herself so Tobias can slide down much more gracefully.
“You good?” He asks.
Nia groans, leaning forward to press her forehead against the dirt. Tobias gives her a patronizing pat on the back.
“Apologies again for the rough flight over,” Comet says, stepping closer.
“But we did get you here in one piece!” Fliss says, giving an exaggerated wink with her one good eye.
Tobias helps Nia to her feet. “That you did. Thanks.”
“We’re planning to head to Ghatha right away for our next job, so you may need to make the journey north on foot if you need a return flight,” Comet says.
“That’s fine!” Nia says, giving Comet a weak smile as she starts stretching out her stiff legs. “We probably won’t need a flight ‘mon for a while, anyways. We need to find someone here in town, and then we’re heading south.”
“Fair enough,” Fliss says. “Well, it was good seeing you two again, despite the rocky weather. Be careful on your travels and be sure to find us again if you need a flight! It’s always a pleasure having you as riders.”
“Thanks, Fliss,” Nia says, smiling warmly at the braviary. “I can’t say it’s been, um…fun, exactly, but I appreciate you doing your best to make it easier for me. Both of you.”
Comet dips his head. “Of course. It was nice meeting you both.”
With that, Fliss and Comet step back and take flight again, flapping up and into the sky. Nia waves them off until they’re out of sight.
Then it’s just Nia and Tobias standing at the edge of the village. Stonebrook is absolutely tiny, maybe ten or twelve small buildings in all, and Nia can see clear to the other side of town from where they’re standing. While the inhabitants of the village aren’t approaching them, there are one or two Pokemon watching them curiously, clearly wondering who they are and why they flew to Stonebrook of all places.
“Well, we’re here. Now what?” Tobias asks.
“Well…” Nia trails off, looking around. “I guess we just ask around until someone can point out where Junie lives? It can’t be too hard to find her in a town this small.”
Tobias shrugs, clearly not thrilled about socializing with a bunch of strangers, but follows as Nia wanders into the village proper, towards the merchant shop she’d spotted earlier.
“This place is nice,” Nia says, smiling as one of the children she’d seen before runs past her. The kid, a brown chipmunk Pokemon with a leafy green bonnet, does a double-take at the two strangers in his village, and skids to a stop. The Pokemon that had been chasing the little guy slams into him, and the two fall into a squirming, squabbling heap.
“It’s definitely not where I expected Junie of all Pokemon to settle down,” Tobias says, stepping around the kids. “It’s too…”
“Peaceful?”
“I was going to say boring, but yeah.”
Nia elbows him to be polite, still looking around as they approach the merchant’s shop. The village is open to the sun, but it’s surrounded by a thick wall of pine trees. Nia can’t decide if the forest feels reassuring or confining. Then again, she lives inside a giant tree, so she doesn’t really have room to talk.
“Nia?”
Nia stops in place, ears perking at the familiar voice. She spins to find it, beaming when she sees Junie stopped mid-step mere feet away. The rookidee is clearly shocked, beak open and wide ruby eyes flicking between Nia and Tobias in disbelief.
“Junie!” Nia says.
Junie blinks once. Twice. Then she finally seems to register that this is really happening. She tweets an excited, shrill noise before rocketing into Nia’s open arms. Nia falls to the dirt and moss, laughing.
“What’re you doing here?!” Junie says, nuzzling into Nia’s fur. “Where did you even come from?”
“We flew!” Nia laughs, hugging her. “Did you not see us? Half the village has been staring at us since we landed.”
“I just got into town!” Junie leans back just enough to meet Nia’s eyes, feathers fluffed with excitement. “What’re you doing here?!”
Nia feels her smile falter a bit. She sits up, and Junie resettles in her lap. “We have business south of here, so we thought we would stop by and visit you on the way.”
“I’m so glad you did! I missed your adorable face.” Junie’s gaze flicks behind Nia to where Tobias is standing, and she perks up all over again. “And Toby’s here too!”
“I told you not to call me that,” Tobias growls.
“Good to see you haven’t lost your charming personality!”
Nia giggles, while Tobias just rolls his eyes.
“Ahem.”
Nia and Junie look up to see a pink cow Pokemon standing over them, a basket full of linens held against her hip.
Oh. They decided to have their reunion right in the middle of town, didn’t they? And right in the middle of one of the walking paths, too.
Junie laughs and flaps her way out of Nia’s lap. “Sorry, Marie!”
Nia scrambles to follow. “Sorry, ma’am!”
Marie shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she passes. “Good to see you so happy, Junie. Just keep the paths clear, all right?”
Junie salutes the Pokemon’s back, sending Nia a wry smile.
Huh. Nia had gotten the impression back in Ghatha that Junie didn’t talk to her neighbors much, but that was a pretty casual exchange with Marie. Maybe she’s grown more comfortable with them since then?
Once the cow Pokemon is out of earshot, stopping outside of her home to hang the linens on a makeshift clothesline, Junie turns to Nia. “Come on, we can go back to my place.”
“Oh, sure!”
Nia and Tobias follow as Junie hops down one of the village’s dirt paths, then leaves the trail entirely to head into the woods.
Nia hesitates at the tree line, watching Junie’s dark feathers get nearly swallowed up by the forest’s heavy shade. The three of them are dwarfed by the tall evergreens here.
“You don’t live in town?” Nia asks.
“Nope! I live with Bo now! He should actually be stopping by the house soon with some lunch.”
Nia’s brows rise at the bird’s easy answer, but she dutifully follows before she can lose sight of the rookidee.
Junie had seemed so stubbornly independent back in Ghatha. When did that change? Nia did tell her she should try connecting more with her neighbors, but this feels like a big step.
“Bo?” Tobias asks when they catch up.
“Yeah! He’s a dork, but he’s the best. A real metal guy.”
Nia tilts her head, hearing the joke in Junie’s voice but unsure of what to make of it. A pun, no doubt.
“Is he your, um…”
Junie must pick up on what Nia is asking, because she scrunches up her face and sticks out her tongue. “Ew, no, gross. He’s like. A dad. Or an older brother, maybe. Oh! No, wait, he’s definitely an uncle!”
“How do you just decide that someone’s an uncle?” Tobias asks.
“When they have uncle energy, duh. Keep up, Toby.”
Tobias sends Nia a look that makes it clear he’s already done with Junie for this visit. Nia bites back a laugh.
The rookidee leads them farther into the forest than Nia expects, until Stonebrook is out of sight behind them and they’re surrounded by the quiet of the trees. It’s heavily shaded here with the canopy of evergreens so thick, and the air cools notably. At first, Nia almost finds it unnerving, used to the dappled sunshine of the forest in Bethoc’s Haven, but the peaceful quiet and gentle, dark colors grow on her quickly. The ground underfoot is a soft mix of dirt, moss, and soft pine needles, and the air is fragrant with the scent. The trunks of the pines tower above them. There’s less foliage to wade through, which is nice. It’s not bad, necessarily. Just…different.
Finally, Nia sees something up ahead, an out of place gray amongst the cool browns and greens of the forest.
“This is where we live!” Junie chirps, hopping ahead to present it with a wide flourish of her wings.
It’s a small abode made of stone, much like the homes back in Stonebrook proper. One of its walls seems to be made up of the large tree it’s propped against, and its roof is a grassy slant of soil atop a slab of stone. The other walls are made of smaller, carefully stacked rocks, with only two rectangular gaps left on either side of the wooden door—windows, most likely, seeing as they’re currently covered by leafy blinds. There are a few flowers and paint doodles decorating the outside, almost certainly Junie’s doing, that brighten the gray exterior. The little house is cushioned by moss and framed by more giant pine trees, but there are a few slices of sunshine in this part of the forest, making the whole place look homey rather than unwelcoming.
“It’s lovely!” Nia says, charmed.
“You sleep on the ground?” Tobias asks, sounding more confused than anything.
“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Junie asks, giving him a glare. “You sleep on the ground!”
“We literally live in a tree.”
Junie stops mid-retort, blinking. “Huh. Guess you do. Still! Lots of Pokemon sleep on ground level!”
“Not flying types.”
“We’ve had some rough storms around here, okay?” Junie huffs. “Besides, I used to sleep in trees before moving in with Bo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I kept falling out, and it got so drafty! This is much cozier.”
“Or maybe you’re just a weirdo.”
“Maybe it’s just your human side talking,” Nia suggests, biting back a laugh at the cross look Junie sends her partner. “Humans do like being cozy.”
“Because it’s the best!” Junie says with a decisive nod. She opens her mouth to say something else, then pauses, glancing up through the trees as they rustle with the wind. “Oh! I think Bo’s home!”
Nia peers up through the pine branches and the slivers of sunlight, but she can’t see much of anything through the thick boughs.
“I’d step back if I were you,” Junie says, hopping back against the house. “I’ve been knocked over by his tailwind more times than I can count.”
Finally, Nia sees him: a silver bird diving through a gap in the evergreens. He flashes bright when he cuts through a ray of sunlight, like the sun reflecting off a car, and the undersides of his wings are a scarlet red. As he descends, Nia realizes just how big he really is, and scrambles back to make room, Tobias right on her heels.
The bird slows down with a few powerful flaps right before he meets the forest floor. The gust created from his wings makes Nia brace herself against the house and squint her eyes shut as he settles heavily onto the mossy ground.
Nia blinks grit from her eyes and trails her gaze up from huge talons and a bulky silver body until she finds the bird’s face. He’s gotta be over two times their height, and he’s seemingly covered in…metal? The wings he tucks against his sides almost seem to be tipped in blades, sharp as they are, but they don’t cut through the satchel strapped around his body. His head is an equally sharp thing, with a wicked beak of sharp teeth and a spike of metal atop his head, almost like a helmet. He meets Nia’s gaze with keen yellow eyes.
“You didn’t tell me we were having visitors, Junebug,” the bird says, voice more playful than Nia expects. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a bit. Now I just look like a bad host.”
Junie laughs, hopping forward to gesture with her wings. “I’m just as surprised as you are! These are the friends I told you about, from Ghatha! Nia and Toby.”
“Tobias, actually,” Tobias corrects. It’s halfhearted, though, as he sizes up the Pokemon in front of them.
Nia gives the large bird a smile and a shy wave.
The bird squawks a laugh. “You two are just like Junie described! Nice to meet you. I’m Bolat. Local mail ‘mon and self-appointed wrangler for this little impidimp.”
Bolat reaches out a taloned foot to nudge Junie, surprisingly gentle. The rookidee trills an annoyed sound as she’s still nearly knocked over, but she’s smiling.
“I keep your life exciting and you know it!”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nia says, bowing lightly. Tobias doesn’t say anything, but Nia sees him give the bird a respectful nod.
“You too.” Bolat tilts his head, looking at them consideringly. “Do you two plan to bunk with us tonight?”
“Oh! I-I mean, we can find somewhere else to sleep if it’s any trouble, but—”
Bolat laughs and shakes his head. “No no, you’re fine. We have room. We’ll just need to get you some bedding for a proper nest. Guessing you haven’t done that yet?”
“They just got here!” Junie says. “Gimme like an hour. There’s some decent stuff in that glen west of here, right?”
Bolat hums, eyeing the two of them again before turning back to Junie. “How about I just grab some bedding for the night while I’m out on my second run? I’m sure you want to catch up anyways.”
Nia almost protests out of pure politeness, but glances at Junie instead. This is her home, after all. Even if Nia is surprised that the little bird isn’t immediately insisting she can do it herself.
After a moment of thought, though, Junie just nods. “If you don’t mind, that’d be awesome! Thanks, Bo.”
“Eh, no big. It’s a slow day anyways. Ah, here.” Bolat lifts a wing to dip his beak into the satchel looped over his body, rummaging around through…letters? He finally re-emerges with a small sack, which he drops in front of Junie. “Grabbed some lunch. Make sure you eat a few of the chestnuts and greens—you need more bulk if you want to carry more than a letter at a time.”
Junie groans and butts her head against Bolat’s leg with a thonk. “I know, I know! I’ll eat my stupid veggies. Thanks.”
Bolat laughs again and looks at Nia and Tobias. “There should be enough in there for all three of you, if you haven’t had lunch yet. I’ll pick something else up for myself.”
“Are you sure?” Nia asks, ears lowering. She can’t help feeling like they’re imposing, showing up so suddenly and making Bolat do so much for them.
“Of course!” Bolat waves them off with a giant wing. “Any friend of June’s is a friend of mine. Make yourselves at home.”
“Well…thank you, then.”
“’Course.” Bolat squints up through the trees at the midday sunshine. “I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late, though. Can you hold down the fort until I get back, Junebug?”
“Aye aye, cap’n!” Junie says, saluting with her little wing.
“In that case, I’ll see you all this evening with bedding in tow. See you!”
Bolat barely waits for Nia and Tobias to say their own goodbyes before he’s flapping hard at the ground again and lifting up into the air. Nia watches, kind of awestruck that a bird seemingly made of metal can appear so light and graceful as he flies up between the trees and out of sight.
Then Nia squints, looking down at Junie. “’A real metal guy?’”
Junie chirps a laugh. “I wasn’t lying, was I?”
Tobias snorts. “A skarmory’s about as metal as a bird can get.”
“Exactly! Now, come on in. I can’t make you guys proper nests until Bo brings back some fluff, but we can still catch up and eat!”
Junie grabs the lip of the sack of food and drags it along behind her, flapping furiously against its weight. Nia holds open the front door so Junie can get inside, watching as the little bird pulls open the blinds on the two small windows to let in some fresh air and sunlight. Then Nia follows her, surprised by how the inside of the little home feels both cozy and more spacious than she expects.
It’s clearly a space built for just one or two Pokemon, but it’s organized. There’s a small basin off to one side of the room, with bowls, cloths, and other supplies resting near it on a small, flat boulder. On the other side, there’s a larger slab of stone, where two nests sit. One is clearly Junie’s, a tiny bowl of moss and pine needles perfectly sized to cup her body. The second nest is much, much larger, and Nia has to stare at it for a moment to try to understand what she’s looking at.
Are those…thorns?
Junie notices Nia’s expression and twitters a laugh. “Yeah, Bo sleeps in a nest of brambles. Apparently lots of skarmory do it to protect their chicks and toughen up their feathers or something? Or he’s just a freak, I dunno.”
“That’s, um…really intense,” Nia settles on.
“Right?! I’ll stick with my soft, squishy nest, thank you very much. I’m a delicate lady, after all.”
Over near the table, Tobias snorts.
“Oh, what?” Junie says, playfully challenging. “Something you want to say, Toby?”
“Lots of things. But then Nia would scold me for being rude.”
“Like that ever stopped you before.”
Nia smiles as the two go back and forth. She trails closer to the nests, which are sitting right next to one another, almost touching.
“You two seem close,” Nia says, glancing back at Junie.
“I mean…I guess? I haven’t really been here that long.”
“Yeah, but you seemed really against letting anyone help you back in Ghatha. So I guess I’m just glad you found someone here you trust.”
“Yeah…” Junie starts preening her wing, visibly embarrassed. “I was being kind of dumb about that, in hindsight. Like. Bo can be ridiculous, but he’s super nice, y’know? I really like living here. He’s been teaching me a lot, too! Like getting me to fly higher without freaking out.”
Nia turns to look at Junie. “Really?”
“Yup! I can even fly above the trees now! Not by much before I panic again, but I’m definitely better than before. Bo thinks he can get me over my fear of heights in under a year!”
“See if he can teach Nia, too,” Tobias jokes, picking up a bowl to inspect it.
“This…seems like a big deal to you,” Nia says slowly, a little confused. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It’s great! But your fear of heights didn’t seem to bother you that much before?”
“Well…” Junie hops over to fiddle with the tie on the sack of food, clearly looking for something to keep herself busy. “I couldn’t help you in the fire at Ghatha because I was too scared of flying, and I only ended up living with Bo because I was too weak to navigate a storm. So I guess I just want to get better at being a flying type so I can actually do things and not be scared all the time. Plus, I’ll need to be able to fly for real if I want to have a more exciting job than just running errands around Stonebrook.”
“A job?” Tobias asks, frowning. “Like as a Seeker?”
Junie bursts into laughter. “Absolutely not! Fighting’s the worst. Don’t know how you do it, Nia. And dealing with clients and guildmasters? Ugh. No thanks.”
“What’re you hoping to do instead?” Nia asks.
“I’m thinking a mail ‘mon like Bo!” Junie says. She abandons the sack and hops up onto the windowsill to better meet Nia’s gaze. She looks excited, chest puffed and eyes bright. “It’ll take me a few years to learn the landscape well enough to find my way around, and I have to build up enough strength to actually carry a few letters long distance—especially since I have to stay a pipsqueak forever—but I think I’d really like it! Bo’s let me tag along on a few of his runs and it’s the best. He gets to go everywhere and he meets so many funny people!”
Nia blinks at Junie’s enthusiasm, surprised. That’s…quite the long-term goal. Without thinking, she says, “Years? But what about getting back home?”
Junie seems confused for a moment, but then she pouts. “Oh. Right. You still want to be human again, don’t you?”
Nia jerks back. She remembers Junie mentioning something like this in Ghatha, but— “You don’t? You want to stay here? Like this? Forever?”
Junie’s pout deepens into something more genuinely troubled. Her eyes flick to Tobias before resettling on Nia. “Yeah? Just because you want to go back to the boring old human world doesn’t mean everyone does.”
“But…” Nia trails off, at a loss for words. She looks at Tobias, wondering if he’s as surprised as she is. He’s pointedly fiddling with the bowl in his hands, not meeting Nia’s eyes. Oh. Right. Leaving would mean…leaving him behind. And everyone else, too.
But even with that in mind, Nia still can’t help her shock. When she thinks of the human world, she doesn’t think of how boring it can be. She thinks of her family, of going home and reuniting with them. She thinks of her brother pulling her into a crushing hug and lifting her off the ground. She thinks of her mom crying and cooking a big meal for the family to eat together. She thinks of Toni refusing to leave her side for a week straight and catching her up on everything she missed.
Does Junie not have people like that to go home to?
“Do you not remember anything yet?” Nia asks. “About your old life?”
Junie hops down to the soft dirt of the floor and back over to the sack of food. “No, I remember. Not a lot, but enough. It just isn’t good enough to convince me to go back.”
“Wait, doesn’t Will have some theory about humans having to get close to death to regain their memories?” Tobias asks, narrowing his eyes at Junie. “Did you get your memories back after the fire in Ghatha?”
“Nope! Not there. I got pretty hurt right after I got back to Stonebrook, so it must’ve been then. I didn’t know about the whole near-death thing, but it did happen while I was recovering, so.”
“You got hurt?!” Nia asks, alarmed despite knowing that Junie has been totally fine the entire time they’ve been talking. She still can’t resist stepping closer and crouching to scan the delicate little bird’s body. “It had to be serious if you remembered something.”
Junie chirps a laugh. “Sure was! A nasty storm hit the woods and a branch fell on me. Almost flattened me like a pancake! Funny how that’s almost happened twice now, huh? Anyways, that’s how I met Bo! He helped me get back on my feet. Oh! And look at this!”
Junie ignores the distress surely painting Nia’s face to hop back a step. Then, with a furrow in her little brow and a few moments of quiet, a bubble of bright orange energy flickers to life around her.
Aura. Junie’s aura. Nia can sense it immediately, even if she hadn’t been able to see it herself. Her jaw drops.
The bubble around the rookidee only lasts for a second or two, weak and faint, before vanishing again. Junie pants, clearly exhausted from the little display, but beams at Nia and Tobias’ gobsmacked expressions.
“I used protect when the branch landed on me! Though apparently not very well, since I still fractured some bones. Definitely not as strong as the one you used in Ghatha, Nia. But still! Isn’t that cool?!”
“You can use aura now?” Tobias asks, looking horrified. He’s probably thinking about Junie possessing all of the intimate soul-reading powers that Nia has.
Junie shakes her head. “Nah. Just this one move. But I still thought it was neat!”
“It is neat,” Nia offers a beat too late, feeling off-kilter. That one book in the archives did mention that all humans could use protect, but it’s still strange seeing it in action.
Junie puffs out her little chest, proud, before realizing something. She glares at Nia. “Wait, you also got some of your memories back? That means you almost died again, too! I thought I told you guys not to get into any more trouble!”
Nia winces, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. “T-To be fair, I just got really sick?”
“That’s an understatement,” Tobias grumbles, walking over to flick Nia with his tail.
“Oh.” Junie’s irritation deflates. “That sucks.”
“A little,” Nia laughs. “Although…Junie, do me a favor and promise to go to a doctor right away if you get sick, okay? It can get pretty serious for humans.”
Junie opens her mouth to make a lighthearted quip, but something about the expressions on their faces stops her. She tilts her head, clearly curious, but eventually chirps, “Yeah, okay. I promise.”
After that, they settle on the ground outside to eat, where the dirt and moss has been warmed a bit by the sun. Tobias opens the sack Bolat brought back, where a small feast of berries, veggies, and some spiky chestnuts await them for lunch.
Junie gets to work carefully cracking open the chestnuts with her beak while Nia and Tobias divvy up the rest of the food for their impromptu picnic. It’s still chilly out, especially in the shade of the forest, but it’s not as cold as it was while flying over. The wind smells like fresh pine as it rattles through the trees, and dappled sunlight plays across the ground.
“I still feel bad eating the food Bolat got specifically for you two,” Nia says as Junie passes them some of the unshelled chestnuts to add to their meal.
“Don’t be. Bo’s really generous, and he finds lots of food while he’s out on the job. He took me in when I got hurt and took care of me without a second thought.”
Nia smiles as she takes a bite of a carrot-like vegetable, crunching away at it. Bolat does seem awfully nice, and Nia’s beyond grateful that Junie found someone like him to take care of her when she was so injured. She doesn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened otherwise.
“So, catch me up,” Junie says around a mouthful of food. “Any leads on the whole ‘returning to the human world’ front?”
Nia feels Tobias’ eyes on her, and tries not to look too eager at the prospect. “Um…a few? I have some ideas, but nothing solid yet.”
Junie hums, clearly sympathetic but not at all upset on her own behalf. “That sucks. Sorry, Nia. Let me know if I can help, okay? Although I don’t know what I could add that you and Will don’t already have covered.”
Nia slowly puts her own food back down. “Junie, you…you really don’t want to go back home, do you?”
Junie shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I mean. I miss some stuff, I guess, but most of my memories are just…blah, you know? And I’m happy here! Even though I’m gonna be a little shrimp forever, I’m much happier here than I ever was as a human.”
Nia sits back, torn. On one hand, it’s not like she can argue with Junie’s feelings. And just because Nia wants to see her family and friends so desperately doesn’t mean everyone does. But to just abandon her old life entirely? Just like that?
“You aren’t worried that somebody will miss you?” Nia can’t help asking.
“Not really. They aren’t my problem anymore.”
What in the world does that mean?
Nia tries not to visibly slump, and starts picking at her food again. She’d been so excited to share her recovered memories with the rookidee, but now she isn’t so sure she wants to. Would Junie even want her to, or would it just be awkward?
“So is that the mission you’re doing south of here? Figuring out human stuff?”
“Um, no. Not really. We are going to see Will, but not about that.”
“What for, then?”
Nia glances at Tobias. He’s munching on a chestnut, and gives Nia a wave of his hand that clearly says it’s Nia’s prerogative how much she wants to share.
“Okay, your little telepathic communication thing is adorable, but what’s with the serious face?” Junie asks. She looks between Nia and Tobias. “You’re not telling me something.”
For a moment, Nia considers brushing off Junie’s concerns. She hadn’t told Xander’s team or Andyn’s team about the whole “world ending” thing, but…well, quite frankly, she doesn’t think Junie will let it go now that she’s picked up on it.
Plus, she’s human like Nia, as much as she apparently doesn’t want to be anymore. She didn’t have a life here before all of this started happening. It feels right, to let her in on the secret too.
Nia puts her food down again. “You’re right. Sorry. We, um…we found something out recently. Something big.”
Junie frowns. “Bad big?”
“Certainly not good big,” Tobias huffs.
“We met Giratina,” Nia says. “He—"
“Wait, back up. Giratina? The scary nightmare creature that Will explicitly told us not to talk to?”
Nia winces. “Yes? He’s, um…actually pretty civil. If a bit of a grouch.”
“So like Tobias, then,” Junie says. She doesn’t even bask in his reaction, adding, “Okay, hold up, start from the beginning. I need the whole story.”
Nia hesitates, but crumbles quickly under Junie’s insistent gaze.
So Nia tells the story yet again, from the moment when Tobias noticed Giratina following them, all the way up to their talk with August when they returned to the guild. She’s getting better at summarizing after telling the story twice before, but Tobias still jumps in occasionally to add any important details that she forgets. Junie is surprisingly quiet for most of it, aside from when she chastises them for being idiots, jumping down into dangerous mines with criminals and meeting up with crazy bugs who want to send them to the distortion world.
Finally, voice raspy and meal still only half-finished, Nia says, “And that’s the gist. This world—the Pokemon world—is basically in danger of falling apart entirely if we don’t do something to stop it. And the human world will go down with it.”
“Nia thinks Will might have some human connections who can help us find Xerneas, so that she can strengthen the barrier,” Tobias adds. “Or fix it afterwards, if it’s predetermined to break. Either way, we don’t have much go to go on, so we’re checking with him just in case.”
Junie’s expression is somber when they finish. She stares long and hard at the dirt, clearly deep in thought. Finally, she sighs and looks up. “Well. That’s a fine pickle. And just when I was getting comfy here, too. I guess we’ll just have to see what Will has to say, right?”
Nia blinks, then echoes the little bird. “We?”
“Well, yeah! I’m coming with you two to Will’s place, of course.” Junie says. “I just got you back. You aren’t ditching me again while you go off to save the world!”
Nia straightens up, heart lifting. “Really?”
Tobias groans. “Really?”
“Yup! You’re stuck with me, lizard-breath.”
“Greeeaaat,” Tobias drawls, using his flames to char a pecha berry cupped in his palms.
“But what about Bolat?” Nia asks.
Junie waves Nia off. “He’ll be fine! He was on his own forever before I showed up. As long as I come back eventually to show him I’m not dead I’m sure he’ll be cool about it. And I can keep training while we head south so I’m not slacking!”
Nia smiles, something in her relaxing. “That’d be great, Junie. We’d be happy to have you.”
“Happy is a strong word,” Tobias says.
Nia glances at him, afraid for a moment that she’d just made a decision for the both of them that he’s genuinely upset about, but he doesn’t actually look bothered by this development. He bites into his berry with a casual movement, his tail flame its usual calm flicker and his expression even. Just their usual banter, then.
“Aw, c’mon! I’m excited to be traveling with you guys again! I guess we should leave right away tomorrow morning since this is kind of time-sensitive, huh? We’ve got mysteries to solve, worlds to save, eldritch horrors to meet—oh! Nia!”
Nia jumps, nearly dropping the peeled chestnut in her hand. “Y-Yeah?”
“I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt. If you can communicate with Giratina through reflections and he’s on our side now, could we like. Call him?”
Nia stares at Junie, chestnut forgotten. “You want to talk to him? He’s…kinda scary.”
“That’s even better!” Junie says, hopping up excitedly. “It’ll be like we’re trying to summon demons at a sleepover. Wait here!”
Junie darts inside her and Bolat’s home, and Nia looks at Tobias, bewildered.
The charmander shrugs, apparently more or less unphased. “You did suggest we get in touch with him so he knows what we’re up to.”
“I…guess?”
Junie flaps out the front door in an unsteady bob, a small stone bowl barely gripped in her tiny claws. She drops it on the ground in front of Nia, then lands clumsily on the other side.
“There! Will that work? You can use your canteen water, right?”
Okay, guess they’re doing this right now. Nia sighs, once again putting the last of her food aside to grab her canteen and pour an inch of water into the bowl. Sunlight bounces across the water’s surface as it settles. The whole thing is about the size of Nia’s hand, just large enough to see faint reflections of the trees above them.
“Now what?” Junie asks, practically vibrating. “Do we have to chant or something?”
“I don’t actually know,” Nia says, frowning. “We haven’t tried to call him like this before.”
“He can’t be far,” Tobias says, leaning closer to the bowl. “He was following us on the trip over.”
Just as Nia’s about to try calling for Giratina, Junie shouts, “Hey, lord of nightmares! Get your butt over here!”
“Junie!” Nia hisses, wide-eyed.
“What?! You said he’s on your side now!”
“He is, but he’s also a god with a temper!”
“Uh, hey,” Tobias says, pointing. “He’s here.”
Nia looks down, surprised. Sure enough, she can see the faint reflection of Giratina’s silhouette in the surface of the bowl. Just his head, really, the rest of his body likely unable to fit into view.
“Whoa,” Junie breathes, feathers ruffled but expression delighted.
Giratina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if to ask what they want. Nia can practically hear his rapidly thinning patience.
“W-We saw you following us earlier, over the ocean,” Nia explains. “So I thought you were maybe wondering what we were doing? I figured we could give you an update. I-If you’d like.”
“We also wanted to see if we could contact you,” Tobias adds. “Which I guess is a yes.”
Giratina nods, looking back at Nia. Waiting.
She jerks. “O-Oh! Okay. Um. So we’re looking for a friend of mine, a human, who has been gathering other humans. We think he might have an idea of where to find Xerneas, since I know he’s been researching a lot of stuff and talking to a lot of people. So that’s why we’re, uh. Here. And traveling.”
Giratina seems to mull that over for a moment, before nodding his approval.
“Can he not talk?” Junie whispers, loudly.
“He talked to me in his dimension,” Nia says, feeling weirdly rude speaking about Giratina in the third-person when he’s right there. “But I don’t think he can speak to us through reflections?”
“But what if he has something important to tell you?”
Giratina shifts, catching their attention before Nia or Tobias can answer. He brings up a tendril-like wing, the giant talon at its tip settling close to the surface of the reflection and blocking out Giratina himself.
“Does he want you to…touch him? E.T. style?” Junie asks. “Can you even do that?”
Nia frowns, staring at the talon seemingly right on the other side of the water’s surface. “I…don’t know. He did pull me through a reflection in Shivergleam, but I kind of assumed that was like…a special ritual that Edme set up?”
“He did it at the river near the guild too,” Tobias grumbles.
Huh. He’s right. Which means…
Curious, and knowing that the legendary would have been able to kill her easily last time they met but decided not to, Nia lifts her hand and holds it over the water.
“You sure?” Junie asks.
Tobias reaches out and grabs Nia’s free arm, as if to make sure he isn’t left behind this time if she’s yanked through again.
With a deep breath, Nia dips her finger gently into the chilled water, trying not to disturb the reflections on the surface. Sure enough, after an inch or two, she hits not the smooth stone of the bowl’s bottom, but the dulled point of something else, ice-cold.
Giratina.
Nia’s brows raise. Curious, she dips the rest of her hand into the bowl. While she can’t wrap her hand around the sheer size of the claw, it’s undeniable that she has surpassed the depth of the bowl itself. Like a magic trick.
“Whoa,” Junie murmurs again.
Satisfied for now, Nia pulls her hand free, amazed to realize her fur isn’t even wet. She blinks down at the water as it settles. Giratina has pulled away so they can see his face again.
“So when you’re around, you can make any reflection into a portal to the distortion world?” Tobias asks.
The legendary nods.
“Does that only work for Nia? Or for anyone?” Junie asks.
Nia doesn’t know how Giratina does it, but she can practically feel his exasperation through the reflection.
“Oh, r-right. Yes or no questions, Junie.”
“Fine, fine! How about this—can anyone go through a portal you open?”
Giratina nods again.
The three of them sit back as one.
“Huh,” Nia says. “I’m not sure that really changes anything? But I guess it’s good to know that we can check in with you any time if we need to.”
“Could be a helpful escape route in an emergency,” Tobias muses, hand at his chin. “As long as we find a reflection large enough.”
Giratina suddenly jerks, looking off to the side. His eyes narrow. He looks back at them, as if asking if they’re done here. There must be another one of those rumblings in the rift that Nia had experienced while there. A sign of the coming disaster. He probably wants to check it out to make sure it’s nothing more serious.
“I think that’s all we know right now. Um. Thank you for answering?” Nia says, feeling awkward about how exactly she’s supposed to sign off with a legendary.
Giratina nods, then slips out of sight. The reflection of the trees overhead and Nia’s curious face, leant over the bowl, flicker back into sight.
The three of them are quiet for a moment, digesting that experience.
“Okay, so. World-ending terror aside, that was pretty awesome,” Junie says. She hops up, looking all too excited. “We should try to summon more horror monsters before we have to get on the road tomorrow! Bo told me about this Pokémon called Darkrai who gives you nightmares. I don’t think he does it to mess with people, but let’s pretend he does because that’s much scarier.”
Nia can’t help laughing. The tension that had settled over them breaks instantly.
“Darkrai’s a legendary, feather-brain,” Tobias says. “He’s probably already dormant.”
“But he’s the god of nightmares or something! So maybe he’s immune to sleep stuff!”
Nia relaxes and finishes the last few bites of her meal as the two of them start up another silly argument. The exhaustion of the flight and the day’s antics are finally starting to weigh on her, but for at least tonight they can rest here with Junie and Bolat.
Suddenly, with just one more friend at their side, everything ahead doesn’t seem quite as scary.
#pmd#pokemon mystery dungeon#skarmory#talonflame#rookidee#braviary#pokemon#tesha writes#tesha draws#pmd seekers of soul
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Honkai Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader | Part Two
You have always been a sensitive sleeper, not necessarily light, but very aware of what was happening to your body when unconscious. You could feel every poke, prod, and needle that touched your skin, no matter how deep your sleep was. And right now, you can feel someone touching you, probably trying their best to wake up you.
You shiver and twitch at the sudden touches. The cold touch was definitely The Doctor's gloved hands.
Sunday, who has been leading you away from the bright and colourful lights of the city seems to notice this agitation. The feathers on one of his wings twitches slightly, not so dissimilar to a cat's ear hearing a sound behind them.
"Are you alright?"
You rub your arm across the goosebumps that now liter your skin, hair prickling against the fabric of your glove.
"Fine," you say through gritted teeth.
Sunday, in one swift motion, turns directly around to face you, his seemingly imposing presence staring down at you. His heels snap together, hands pressed against his back in a professional manner. He leans in towards you, a light seemingly emitting from his halo.
"Lying is a bad habit."
You don't get why, but chills and anxiety flood through your blood system. You can feel your heart beating faster, so fast, in fact, you wonder if Doctor Loriann noticed the spike. You can almost feel their fingers pressing against your neck.
"I'm not lying," you bite back.
You're a combat specialist, along side being a medical researcher. You're not going to back down to some man in a suit. This man probably has never had a physical fight in his life.
His eyes suddenly feel like they're burning, searing, into the calloused flesh of my body. You can't help but feel itchy, like thousands of spindly spiders are crawling underneath the surface of your skin.
You'd almost rather deal with your Oripathy pains than this uncomfortable feeling. You can't help but swallow a sharp pain in your throat.
After agonizing seconds, Sunday looks away. He straightens his spine, his eyes closed with contemplation. It looks as though his wings extend a little, a similar tactic as a bird to increases their size.
"May The Harmony forgive your words," he mutters under his breath.
Sunday turns back around in a sharp and crisp movement before raising his hand, a sign to continue to follow him.
You can't argue, he's apparently an authority in this place... Then it dawns on you...
"U-Um... I know that this is a little late to ask, b-but what is your name?"
Sunday casually looks over his shoulder, the lights of the city in front of him giving him a glow.
"Hmm? Did I never introduce myself? I deeply apologize. My name is Sunday Oak, head of the Oak Family. And you are?"
You bite both of your lips, feeling the plush between your teeth.
"Um... I-I'm (Y/n)... but you can call me Lamplight... It's my codename."
"Lamplight? Codename? Why would you need a codename?"
"... It's not important."
Sunday hums lightly before cooing.
"You'll tell me eventually. You are going to be questioned after all. Don't forget, you're under suspicion as a stowaway into the Dreamscape."
You can't help but grumble, kicking the ground slightly in annoyance.
"Sack of dirt-- Feather Faced-- Stupid freaking--"
❥ Sunday wishes so badly he could read your thoughts. He wants to know anything and everything, wanting to pick your brain apart.
❥ Sunday who has to restrain himself from immediately using the power of The Harmony that was so graciously gifted upon him.
❥ Sunday who wishes to punish you as the sinner you are.
#honkai star rail#crossover#star rail#arknights#halovian#sankta#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere sunday#x reader#x you#x y/n#yandere sunday x you#yandere sunday x reader#yandere sunday x y/n#sunday x reader#sunday x you#sunday x y/n#hsr
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Some Team Castle shenanigans for @mygangtome day 2024. Written in an hour on my lunch break, unedited, Allan, Marian and Guy go out to the tavern, semi-crackish
"Allan," Marian hisses from the end of the corridor. "You need to help me sneak out of the castle."
Allan sighs and rolls his eyes. "You know I can't do that, Marian. Giz banned the Nightwatchman."
Marian huffs. "I wasn't going to sneak out to be the Nightwatchman."
Allan eyes her dubiously.
"Well, all right, maybe I was. But I just want to get out! Take me to a tavern or something, I don't care! I just need to get out of this damn castle."
Allan raises his eyebrows. He doesn't think he's ever heard Marian swear before. "All right," he says, hands on hips. "But I'll have to ask Giz for his permission. And you never know, he might want to come too."
"I don't care," says Marian. "I'll go to the tavern with the Sheriff if it'll get me out of here for five minutes!"
"Fine, I'll ask him," says Allan. "No promises, mind." He looks at her sceptically. "Have you even been to a tavern before?"
"I can hold my wine, thank you very much," Marian says, which means no.
Allan smirks. "We'll see," he says.
Gisborne is horrified at first.
"A tavern? Lady Marian?"
Allan pleads her case pretty well, especially since he's not quite sure he believes it himself. He's not convinced that Marian won't run off to the forest or start giving alms to the poor the minute Guy's back is turned.
He can see Guy starting to waver.
"Very well," he says eventually. "Under one condition."
"Yeah?" says Allan. "What's that?"
"I will accompany Lady Marian to the...tavern," he says, as if the word is an unpleasant bite of food.
"Yeah, great," says Allan. "I might head down too."
Guy looks strained. "Allan, you don't have to-"
"Yeah, but I want to. What, are you gonna ban me from going down the pub?"
Guy bears his teeth at him. "I should do." He sighs. "Fine. You may come."
"Didn't actually need your permission, but thanks Giz," Allan chirps, then leaves before Guy starts throwing things at him.
The company isn't exactly diverting to start with. Guy buys the first round of drinks, looking suspiciously over his shoulder at Marian and Allan the whole time. He sets them on the table and they sit in silence.
"So, Gisborne," Allan says. "How's the leather working out for you? Look still in?"
Marian hides an undignified snort of laughter in her hands. Guy looks at her sharply before turning to Allan. "It's comfortable," he says.
Marian raises her eyebrows. "Is it?"
"Yes, actually," Guy says, drawing himself up in a dignified manner. "And protective. Much less cumbersome than actual armour, but it does the job."
Marian looks surprised. "Well, I never knew that."
"Me neither," says Allan.
They lapse back into silence.
By the second round of drinks, however, everyone starts to loosen up. Allan plonks them on the table.
"Cheers, Giz, Maz," Allan says, raising his tankard, and neither of them tell him off for the nickname.
"What should we call you?" Marian says. "Al? Az?"
She lets out a snort and Guy joins her in laughter, to all of their surprises.
"I'm gonna use that from now on," he says, gesturing towards Allan.
He sets his tankard down. "I shouldn't drink anymore, the Sheriff wants me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow."
"C'mon, live a little, Giz," Allan says.
"Yes, Guy, you need to loosen up," Marian says, bursting into giggles for no apparent reason. Allan had known she'd be a total lightweight.
Guy rolls his eyes and sighs, then drains half the tankard in one. Allan cheers while Marian laughs in delight, attempting to copy him and spilling half the pint down her dress.
"Oh drat!" she says.
Guy shakes his head fondly and offers her a handkerchief.
"Thanks Guy."
By the third round, both Marian and Guy are well and truly drunk, and Allan's well on his way to tipsy.
"Sure you don't wanna go home already?" Marian teases Guy.
"Nah," he says, taking a big gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck the Sheriff."
Marian howls with laughter and Allan can't help but join her. People are starting to look in their direction, but Guy and Marian don't seem to notice.
"Fuck the Sheriff!" says Marian, raising her tankard and clinking it against Guy's, then Allan's.
"To drinking!" says Allan.
"To ale!" says Guy.
"To friends," says Marian, catching them both in her little smile. Allan feels pleasantly numb, happy in the company of two people who have been enemies, allies and superiors to him, but who right now are friends.
"To friends," he repeats.
"To friends," Guy says. He's wearing an odd look on his face, one Allan can't quite read.
"On that note, I need to visit the privy," Marian says. "Where is it?"
"Outside." Allan gestures vaguely, noting the distasteful look on Marian's face as she gets up.
Once she's left, Gisborne rests a hand on his shoulder. Allan turns to him and is surprised to see his eyes filled with tears.
"Guy?" Allan asks tentatively.
"Allan," Guy says miserably. "Allan, what can I do to make her love me?"
Allan takes a deep breath. He should have known Gisborne would be a weepy drunk. "Well, she's your friend. That's a start, right?"
And then Guy is weeping into his chest. "Why won't she love me, Allan? I just want her to love me."
Allan pats the back of Guy's head awkwardly. "There, there," he says. Guy continues sobbing into his shoulder, but luckily doesn't say anything else.
"Allan, I can't walk straight," Marian says, tottering back to their table. Allan's almost surprised that she's come back - he'd half expected her to run off.
Then she notices Guy weeping into Allan's shoulder. "Guy? What's wrong?"
Guy lets out another wracking sob and doesn't answer, which Allan is secretly grateful for. He came out for a relaxing night of drinking - the last thing he needs is for Marian and Guy to have it out here and now.
"He's just a bit drunk," Allan says, answering for him. "C'mon, help me get him back to the castle. We don't want the Sheriff to see him like this."
Marian nods, trying to look more sober than she is, and helps Allan get Guy up.
"Not the Sheriff, no, no, nooo," he moans. "Allan, you can't let the Sheriff see me like this, OK?"
"On it, boss," Allan says. Marian sniggers.
"Or Marian," Guy says. "She can't see me like this."
"Um," says Marian, her arm already around his shoulders.
"ALLAN!" Guy yells, giving him an earful about letting Marian near him in this state as they wrangle him out of the tavern.
"Jeez, a little gratitude would be nice," he says as Guy lapses into tears again.
They manage to make it back to the castle without being spotted. Marian helps Allan lay Guy down on the bed.
"Well," she says, looking awkward (and a lot more sober than she was half an hour ago). "Goodnight Allan."
"G'night Marian," Allan says.
"Goodnight, Guy," she calls, but Guy doesn't respond.
"Don't worry," Allan says confidently. "He'll have forgotten this by the morning."
"I hope so," says Marian. She smiles. "Thank you for arranging tonight," she says. "I had a good time."
Then she's gone. Allan is astonished. She really did just want to go out and spend time with them.
Maybe that'll be a comfort to Guy later, he thinks, as he helps the man undress and get into bed.
"Stay," Guy begs as Allan is about to head for the door. He pauses.
"Are- are you sure?" he says. "I don't want you to wake up tomorrow morning screaming like a little girl about me being in your bed."
Guy snorts, the tears apparently over for now. "It'd take a lot more for you to make me scream, Allan."
Allan wonders if he realises how dirty that sounds.
Guy sighs. "I need you to wake me up in time to meet with the Sheriff," he says. "So I need you to stay. That's all."
"That's all," Allan repeats.
"Yes." Guy eyes him narrowly, then pulls back the covers. "Get in."
Trying not to smirk, Allan gets into bed next to Guy. "You had better not throw up on me, Giz, that's all I'm saying. Otherwise, you and me are through."
Allan expects some kind of response to that, an elbow in the ribs at the very least. He twists round to look at Guy and realises he's fallen asleep, gently snoring, pressed up against Allan.
Allan sighs and resigns himself for a restless night.
#my gang to me 2024#my gang to me#robin hood bbc#guy of gisborne#allan a dale#marian of knighton#lady marian#marian#my writing#team castle#im obsessed with these three i just wanna write 50 different fics where they hang out
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"Hey! What are you doing?!" he nearly shouts as he quickly rushes to take the bags of groceries from you.
You're eight months pregnant and your husband has been immensely loving, helpful and considerate, but safe to say overbearing at times.
"I just wanted to help." you say sheepishly, a slight pout forming on your lips.
"I've got it." he says, tone harsher than he intended as he grabs the bags without even looking at you, then leaves, thinking nothing of it.
You stomp your feet to the bedroom, well, as well as you can in your state and slam the door behind you.
He's startled at the sound and it dawns on him just now what he has done, "Fuckin' hell." he grumbles under his breath.
He finds you lying down on the bed and walks over to sit beside you.
"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have talked to you that way." he apologizes in a much softer voice.
He places one hand on your waist and the other on your belly, tenderly rubbing soothing circles only for you to pull away and turn your back to him.
His heart shatters in his chest as he stares at you with desperate, apologetic eyes.
And shortly after, he hears the soft sound of your sniffles.
He shuffles on the bed to get closer to you, lightly touching your arm, "Love?" he beckons softly, eyebrows furrowed as he feels truly concerned now.
"Please, lovie. Talk to me." he pleads, fingers gently brushing against your bare arm.
Your hiccupped cry gets louder by the second until you’re full on sobbing as you curl into yourself.
"Fuck! I'm so sorry, love." he apologizes again, feeling more and more desperate and helpless.
He lies down behind you and pulls you closer to him by the waist and his hand rests on your belly.
He murmurs 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you' into your hair over and over again, not really knowing what else to do in order to calm you down.
Until suddenly he hears your burst of giggles, not sure if he heard correctly.
"It tickles!" you giggle again as his breath tickles your neck.
He slightly shifts in his place, supporting his weight on his arm and lifting himself up to look at you in surprise of the sudden change in your mood.
You turn your head to look back at him with a lovely smile, making his breath hitch in his throat.
"Yeah?" a mischievous smile forms on his face and his hands move to your sides.
And before you can react, he's tickling you mercilessly.
"Siii!" you whine in between uncontrollable laughter and thrashing your arms around trying to stop him from his brutal tickle attacks as he smirks and laughs at your attempts, enjoying this way more than he should.
Until all of a sudden a loud drawn-out gasp leaves your mouth and he immediately stops, "Fuck! Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" he asks in deep concern as his eyes stir around, looking for any sign of damage.
You just take his hand and place it on your belly with no words and at first, he looks confused, but quickly realizes what you meant, his eyes lighting up as he feels your baby's kicks against his palm.
He feels tears prickle the corner of his eyes and can't help but kiss you with such flaming love and fierce devotion that he feels for both of you.
And you spend the rest of the day in each other's arms, feeling your baby's kicks with pure happiness in your hearts and he soothingly rubs your belly and kisses you when you whine in pain.
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare
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Tie my tie, marry me
Summary:
The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side.
fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him
It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.
You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.
Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.
He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.
"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.
Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.
Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.
The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.
It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.
You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.
"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"
You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.
Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.
Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."
His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.
Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.
Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.
Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.
"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"
Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.
#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jjk nanami kento#nanami#nanami x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami kento#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami x reader#jjk nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami fluff#nanami jjk#nanamin#jjk nanami kento x fem!reader#nanami x fem!reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#jjk x reader#nanamin fluff#nanami kento tie#jjk nanami kento tie
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sukuna is clingy when he sleeps.
you wake in the early hours of the morning to a veritable vice grip circling your waist. it takes you a moment to gain your bearings, but when you do, you recognize sukuna has both of his arms wrapped around you, holding you snug against his chest. he's practically become your own personal futon—your entire body resting overtop of his—but, regardless of the circumstances, he doesn't seem to mind it considering how soundly he's sleeping underneath you.
you lift your head, using your hands against his chest to push yourself up slightly. glancing down at him, you hold back a laugh at the sight: he's frowning, even in his sleep.
how typical.
"sukuna," you mumble sleepily, glancing over to the clock on his bedside table as you blink away the sleep from your eyes. the clock must be unplugged, because there are no numbers lighting up the clockface, but his cellphone rests just beside it on the tabletop. you reach over—as far as you can given the unyielding hold he has on you—and tap the screen to see the time. you sigh. you repeat his name again.
he doesn't stir.
you repeat yourself two more times, though you keep your voice low. it's barely dawn, and yuuji is asleep only a room away, so you can't be any louder. you start shaking him lightly in tandem with your calling of his name.
finally his nose wrinkles in discontent, a single eye cracking open.
"whaddaya want?" he grumbles as he lets his eye close again, his arms tightening even further in their grip on you.
"gotta get up," you reply. "yuuji'll be awake soon."
the youngest itadori brother tends to be an early riser—a morning person to his core. sukuna tends to rise early only when absolutely necessary, and he's as far from chipper in the mornings as a person can possibly be.
"don't care," sukuna mutters.
"i care," you counter his indifference with indignation.
he doesn't reply, seemingly having fallen asleep again.
"sukuna, let me go," you whine as you fight his hold, but it doesn't waver for a moment.
"baby, stop," he grunts as you wiggle uselessly against him.
you freeze.
his eyes open in the wake of your sudden stillness, a look of suspicion on his face.
"baby?" you repeat quietly as he looks at you.
"what, you don't like it?" he asks, quirking a brow. "would you prefer brat?"
he calls you that anyway, so your preference matters very little.
you're a bit flustered by the sudden turn of events and sukuna leverages this momentary reprieve to his advantage: using his hold around your waist, he pulls you over so you're resting on your side in his bed, facing him. there's little light in his bedroom this early in the morning—just the faintest bit of sun on the distant horizon—but you can still make out his face even in the dimness. his eyes are open but still heavy-lidded with sleep as he watches your face closely.
"go back to sleep," he finally grunts out, tugging you into him so that your cheek is pressed to his chest.
"what about yuuji?" you ask.
"i'll take care of it," he replies dismissively. you hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again: "you're not the only brat i'm used to dealing with. right, baby?"
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I'd Fight The Devil
Alastor x fem! reader
Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale
Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism
_____
Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"
"Yeah, thoughts?"
"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.
But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.
Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.
"How was your day, mon amour?"
"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."
Silence.
And not even radio silence.
"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.
But announcing their relationship to him?
He could see it ending in flames.
"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."
"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.
"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.
Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.
"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."
Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"
"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."
Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.
A perfect match.
(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.
How sweet.
"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.
"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.
"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.
"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?
Honestly, Lucifer feared that.
Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.
He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.
He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.
"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"
"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.
And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.
And placed it away from hers.
"Uh, dad-"
"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."
"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."
"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"
"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."
That's when he saw it.
That look.
Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.
It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.
"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."
"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.
The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.
"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.
"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.
Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.
"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.
"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.
There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.
"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."
That look, it made her softly gasp.
"Alast-"
"Ew."
Right.
Lucifer.
He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.
"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.
He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.
"Maybe."
Sick bastard.
_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _
"Fuck! Alastor!"
(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.
"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.
"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.
"Al?"
"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.
"But you-"
Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.
"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.
Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.
"And stay in that form. It suits you."
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In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader
word count: a little over 1k
summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different
You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.
Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.
Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.
Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.
Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.
Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.
Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!
A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?
Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.
You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.
“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.
Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.
You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”
You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.
“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.
“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.
“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.
“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.
“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.
You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.
“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.
“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.
“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.
“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.
“I’m not.”
“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.
“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.
“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.
“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.
“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.
“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.
“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.
“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.
“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.
He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.
“You like what you see?” He teases.
“You’re an idiot,” You smile.
“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.
Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.
You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.
“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.
He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.
“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.
“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.
Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.
#pjo x you#luke castellan#luke pjo x reader#luke castellan x reader#pjo x reader#luke pjo#percy pjo#pjo series#pjo fandom#pjo#pjo tv show#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan x you
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꒰ 𐙚 keeping warm — genshin men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : as the days get shorter and the weather gets colder, your boyfriend has other ideas on how to keep warm.
⟡ characters : diluc, wriothesley, childe ( he's referred to as ajax in the fic )
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, soft sex, riding, praising, size kink, squirting, creampie, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, gagging, edging
౨ৎ note : winter time shenanigans with genshin men ૮ • ﻌ - ა ‘tis the season !
୨୧ DILUC
❥₊ ⊹ after a late meeting with the knights of favonius in the dead of winter, you had unfortunately been caught in one of mondstadt's worst snow storms to date. the wind was blowing harshly and it burned your cheeks. when you had reached dawn wineary, diluc was already anxiously waiting near the front doors with thick blankets, clearly worried about you.
you were shivering, a lot, and diluc feared that the blankets may not do enough for you. so he led you by hand to the washroom to take a warm bath and sitting right behind you in the porcelin tub, pushing stray hairs away from your bare back to wash it. eventually when the two of you got out of the bathtub, you went to diluc's bedroom, hoping that skin to skin contact will warm you up once again.
it started off as innocent cuddling surrounded by blankets, with diluc being the bigger spoon but feathering touches turned into wanderering hands which turned into diluc's large hands leading your hips up and down his thick cock.
"ah... that's it baby..." he moans into your neck, moving one of his hands to your lower back, pushing you closer into him.
he was warm, whether it be from his body conserving heat better than yours or his pyro vision resting on the bedside table to the right of you, you don't know what it is but the warmth felt good.
you continue to ride him, your pussy milking his cock for all it's worth while your clit is rubbing against his abdomen deliciously. soon, a layer of sweat formed on both of you bodies.
"mphm! diluc..." you whine softly, pulling away to look at his face and his crimson eyes are filled with lust but also love, so much love.
"yeah? what is it, love?" he asks, his hands coming up to gently hold your face between them and his fingers brushing some hair away from your eyes. "is something wrong?"
"kiss me, please." you beg.
and he obliges, pressing a sweet kiss on your soft lips then moaning in your mouth when you resume riding him. "fuck, love you so much."
"l-love you too, diluc. s'much. love you so much!" you cry out as diluc lifts you up and starts pistoning his cock erratically in your oozing cunt. your back reacts to the overwhelming amount of pleasure by arching, causing your chest to press against his.
diluc's grip on your waist grew tighter as he neared his orgasm, now all he needed was to feel you cum on his cock. "so good, sweetheart... love your pussy... love you..." he mumbles, pressing open mouth kisses to your collarbone. then his cock hit that spongy spot deep inside you and caused you to spiral into your once impending orgasm.
you sobbed as you came, grabbing a hold of diluc's hair as you shook from the sheer amount of pleasure he gave you. from feeling your body shake and your cunt contract around him, diluc's orgasm reached it’s peak and you felt his cock twitch inside of you before his seed flooded your womb.
୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY
❥₊ ⊹ once winter hits in fontaine, there tends to be less to do in the fortress of meropide. there's no work to do, no herbs to gather for sigewinne because all the plants on the surface are dead for the season, and the production of parts for mekas has slowed down immensely. the sanctum becomes dull, boring, and cold. extremely cold. which is why you're thankful for the fireplace that wriothesley had installed in his office.
the warmth from the burning wood accompanied by the warmth, and pleasure, your boyfriend was providing you was perfect.
"doing so good for me, princess..." he groans, he has you on your back on the blue chesterfield placed in front of the fireplace, legs resting around his wide waist while he splits you open with his thick cock.
"hng... w-wrio, shit!" you moan, wriothesley's pace was unrelenting. he didn't care if anyone heard how loud you were being, the messy sounds of him fucking you amazingly was already reverberating throughout the room.
wriothesley had a strong grip on you, fingertips digging almost painfully into your hips. you felt fucking incredible, your sloppy little cunt was practically dragging him deeper and begging for him to cum inside. to fill you completely, to mark you as his.
each thrust into your pussy was calculated, precise, and accentuated, making the mix of your arousal and wriothelsey's precum ooze out from inside of you. he could tell that you were going to cum soon, you were moaning louder, your fingers were leaving red, hot, angry lines in their wake on the lateral muscles of his back, and you were clamping down impossibly tighter on his cock.
"y'gonna cum soon, baby? good fucking girl. cum all over my dick. make a mess." he coos, pulling his cock almost completely out, leaving only his tip in before ramming it back inside of you.
"mhm! gonna cum! wrio, oh m'god!" you hiccup, then moan louder as he brings one of your legs to rest on his broad shoulders with one hand while the other reaches down and toys with your clit.
the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you cry out as you cum hard, and everywhere. your arousal covered wriothesley's cock and lower abdomen, nearly soaking him completely. tears begin to flood your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm and wriothesley continuing to fuck you, "please, please cum inside." you babble.
"oh, fuuuck." wriothesley moans, fucking into you at a quicker pace to reach his orgasm. then when he cums, warmth spreads across your stomach and you feel him covers your walls in white.
when wriothesley pulls out of your messy pussy, a string of yours and his arousal is connected to his cock. "i really made a mess of you, huh?" he chuckles.
"shut up!" you laugh, sitting up and throwing a pillow at him.
୨୧ CHILDE
❥₊ ⊹ while it's well known about the rigid extremities of winters in snezhaya, and not being from there, they felt particularly more... harsh, on you because you're not used to them.
so when childe asked you to come with him to visit his family for the holidays, you thought you were prepared by packing and wearing extra layers but you were proved very, very wrong. and because your boyfriend is ever so caring, he realized how much you were struggling to conserve heat and brought up another idea on how to keep you warm.
"a-ajax... we shouldn't, your family is in the other room." you weakly protest, clearly not completely against his idea because when he pulls down your panties, almost pathetically a string of arousal is connected to them.
"yeah?" he chuckles, "your pussy says otherwise, babe."
"don't say things like that!" you whisper-yell.
"mhm... whatever you want..." childe mumbles, too enamored by your glistening cunt. "i'm putting it, okay?"
"'kay..." you say, your hands tightly grab at the counter in the washroom when you feel how his thick cock sinks into you. "o-oh..."
"shiiit... you sure you didn't want to do this?" he teases before bottoming out completely.
"hng!" you begin to moan out before childe puts two fingers in your mouth.
"i know baby, i know... but you gotta stay quiet..." he lightly scold, still thrusting his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. "so fucking pretty. prettiest girl in the world. so lucky you're all mine." childe watches the way the your ass recoils at each snap of his hips like he's in a trance, truly you were a sight to see.
he was reaching so deep inside of you and you wish you could scream it to the high heavens. your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the stimulation, you could feel your slick and his cum make a mess between your thighs and you didn't know how much longer your legs could hold you up.
as if he could read your mind, childe pulls out abruptly and you whine at the loss of contact before he manhandles you into turning around and picking you up to have half of your ass on the edge of the counter.
"wrap your legs around my waist..." he whispers in your ear and you do so. childe thrust the entire length of his cock back into your cunt and your arms fling around his neck, grabbing at the short hairs of his head.
"o-oh my god... ajax!" you sob, trying to grab onto anything or everything to keep you anchored onto him. his pace was erratic and you swore at the angle he was fucking you at, you could feel him in your stomach.
"so. fucking. tight." childe growls in your ear. even though the two of you were trying to be quiet, the sounds of skin on skin was filling the room with your silent moans. and the tie in your stomach was about to snap, you were about to cum, hard.
"fuck, fuck, fuck... 'm cumming, a-ajax! oh my go—-" and then he stopped.
"what? why did you do that?" you begin to question until childe put his finger to his mouth and hushing, then thats when you heard it.
knock! knock! knock!
"ajax, sweetie? is y/n alright in there?" you hear childe's mom on the other side of the door.
"yeah, mom!" he yells back. "she's just a little cold!"
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#𐙚 works#genshin impact#diluc x reader#wriothesley x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#diluc x you#wriothesley x you#tartaglia x you#childe x you#diluc smut#wriothesley smut#tartaglia smut#childe smut#genshin#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you
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clingy!rin is my favorite rin <3
it’s 4:30 am, and rin is now wide awake.
rin woke up 30 minutes before his alarm went off. his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. he blinked a few times, his brain slowly registering that something was off.
that's when he saw your figure turning away from him, your back facing him. you weren't cuddled in his arms like how he remembered falling asleep.
he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed, a typical expression he held in his everyday life, but never towards you. never because of you. except now.
this was the first time it happened. or was it? did you always slip away from his hold when he was fast asleep? did you not like having him close like how he wanted you snuggled in him? or maybe he did something wrong last night? was it something he said? he couldn't recall.
all he knew right now was that he didn't like it. you don’t get to do this to him, rin thought. cuddles were a must for him to function properly! he will never tell you that but he knows you know that!
he laid there for a moment, staring at your back. as much as he hated what was happening right now, he didn't want to wake you up. because as much as you love and adore rin, the earliest of waking up as a part of the pro-athlete life was something you would never try. who in their right mind would wake up at the crack of dawn just to be tired all over again? definitely not you.
rin continued staring at you until his alarm went off. the loud blaring of his alarm stirred you from your sleep. slowly, you turned to rin, and your sleepy eyes blinked up to meet his narrowed ones.
uh oh. someone didn’t have a great sleep, you thought.
“your alarm, rinnie. time to start the day.” you said.
that’s all you could say? no explanation? fine.
rin let out what seemed like a huff, causing you to open your eyes. lo and behold, rin was pouting.
rin itoshi was pouting. at 5 am.
curious as to what was making your lover sulk so early in the morning, you reached out to cup his jaw. “what’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly.
“you.”
it was now your turn to frown. “me? what do you mean?”
“you were turned away from me.” rin said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
you must be on a mission to completely infuriate him as you utter a “huh?” in response.
“i woke up and you were turned away from me.” rin replied, a little bolder and louder this time.
“oh.”
rin scoffed at your realization, completely opposite to the smile forming on your lips.
you opened your arms, beckoning him closer. “come here, rinnie,” you said, your voice tender and soothing.
rin might be feeling a little grumpy, but who was he to decline such a sweet offer?
slowly, rin laid himself in your arms, his face buried in your neck as he took his time to get lost in your scent.
you stroked rin's hair, “i'm sorry,” you said, leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, kissing the grumpiness away, “i must have moved in my sleep.”
rin let out a sigh at your answer, accepting that it was out of your control.
he wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you close to him. “just don't do it again,” he said, his voice hot against your neck. “i need you close to me.”
you smiled at his words. even if your boyfriend might be frequently grumpy and unconventionally clingy, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.
#☁️ my ode to you#I AM CRAZY ABOUT HIM#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock fluff#bllk x reader#bllk imagines#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi
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