#( coughs loudly in your general direction )

[chaussetteblanche]

AHH i lived ur luke one do u think u can do another maybe like an enemies to lovers trope (sorry im a sucker for enemies to lovers)☺️

hi babe !! thanks for requesting ! don't apologise we're all on our knees and begging for enemies to lovers <3

I hate you

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : you and luke have been mortal enemies for months, will things change because of a quest? word count: 2.3k warnings : swear words, description of a wound

Luke had hated you since your first day at camp. To this day, you had no idea why. But after months of letting snark comments and aggressive capture the flags slide, you’d decided you had had enough. That had been the moment you'd officially become enemies. 

When he'd jeer at you, you'd bite back with even more venom. If you made him drop his sword at capture the flag, he’d come after you with his bare hands. When one hit, the other hit back harder. It was constant war. 

The rest of camp never understood this hatred you both harboured for one another. Singularly, you were both kind, generous and intelligent people. The kind of people you’d expect to get along fine and even become good friends. But no, it was always one thing after the next. 

So imagine your horror when a relatively new camper was chosen for a quest and found nothing better to do than pick you and your mortal enemy to accompany him. It was your worst nightmare come true. You froze when both your names resounded in the agora. 

You choked, coughed and held back from spluttering, refusing to embarrass yourself. You smoothed down your camp shirt and nodded. You did not look at Luke, even though you could feel his heated glower on your skin. He would probably find a way to blame you for this. Chiron looked between you and Luke with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. You could almost hear what he was thinking. Nonetheless, he abided. 

Walking back to your cabin to prepare your things, you could hear the word actively spreading behind you.  "Did you hear that-" "Yeah, he’s chosen Luke and-" "They’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other." Rolling your eyes, you shut yourself in your cabin and leaned back on the closed door. You dug the heels of your hands into your eyes, groaning. This was going to be nightmare.

And it really was. By hour 12 of the quest, you’d managed to get yourself thrown out of a train, fought off two harpies and had lost Luke.  "Where the hell did he go?" you asked loudly as you and Alan, the young camper, walked in direction of your next task. "He couldn’t have just disappeared!" "I don’t know, maybe he’ll join us later on." Alan shrugged. You frowned.  "Do you know anything about this?" You slowly turned to to him and he took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no, I-" "I’d suggest you think twice before lying to me, Alan," you growled. Alan sighed. "Yes, he told me he wanted to see how badly you did on your own so he could report it to camp." "Right." Of course. Of course he would find a way to make the dangerous quest even harder than it needed to be. You inhaled deeply, trying to remind yourself not to take your anger out on this thirteen year-old child. Your blood boiling, you turned back around and continued to walk. If Luke wanted to stay behind, that was fine with you. Better that than have him be in your way. 

"Oi!" Called a voice about an hour later. Ugh, Luke. You ignored him, keeping a steady pace. He called your name again. You didn’t react until his hand came down on your shoulder.  Before he could say another word, you spun around and pushed him up against the nearest tree, your forearm pressing down on the column of his throat. "Who the fuck do you think you are," you snarled, close to his face, "to leave Alan and I alone? The quest comes before everything! It comes before your hatred for me and your stupid pettiness! So pull yourself together and stop fucking around! » You shoved yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. He looked at you darkly before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. "Yell at me again, princess, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream," he warned in a low voice. You scoffed, ripping your wrist out of his grip.  "Shut up and start walking, Castellan."

The quest went smoothly -as smoothly as it could go considering the tension between Luke and you- after that. You found that the three of you made a pretty good team. Everything was going fine and you had been on your way back to camp when you crossed a griffin. You pushed Alan behind you immediately, taking out your sword at the same time Luke did. "Distract him, I'll go around the side!" Luke ordered, running off. Despite not wanting to follow his orders, you set your jaw and instructed Alan to hide. You twisted your ring, a gift from your mother which turned into a shield when twisted the right way, and waited for the shield to form before banging your sword against it.

"Over here, you stinking pile of feathers! Or should I say fur?" You yelled as you ran backwards, away from Alan. You continued banging your sword against your shield and watched as Luke charged forward from the griffin's unguarded side. The beast shrieked as it was struck and batted Luke away with its large wing. Luke flew to the side with an 'oomph' sound. Despite your despise for him, you felt surprisingly concerned.

You darted forward as the griffin raised one of its clawed feet, ready to strike down Luke, who was slowly getting to his feet. The loud clang of claws meeting the metal of your shield made him look up quickly. You were straining underneath the power of the monster, pushing back against your shield with all of your strength. "Fucking. Move." You managed to speak through clenched teeth. Luke finally snapped out of his daze and bolted to the side. You readied yourself before jumping to the side, out of the griffin's reach -or so you thought. He swapped at you with his other clawed foot and despite you trying to run out of the way, managed to cut a gash in your side. You cried out. You heard Luke and Alan scream your name, but they felt far away.

You spun around, livid, and cut off the beast's hand as it came down towards you once more. Luke took his chance and stabbed the monster in the chest. The three of you watched as the creature turned to dust. You fell to your knees. Luke was next to you in a second, breathing heavily. He laid you down in the grass, muttering to himself. "Show me," he ordered, lifting your shirt up to reveal your stomach. You squirmed both from the strange feeling of having his eyes on your revealed body and from the stinging pain of the cut. "Gods- how bad it is?" you asked. The sound of Alan vomiting was indication enough. Luke bit his bottom lip, brows furrowed. "It's fixable. You just need ambrosia and a healer." "Really?" You hated the way your voice sounded so weak. Luke nodded strongly. "Trust me." And for some reason, you found that you did. He stood up and sheathed his sword before gesturing for Alan to take your bag.

"Can you walk?" he asked, though it sounded like more of a formality than a real question. You lifted yourself up on your elbows and groaned in pain. You shook your head, hating the fact that you had to rely on him of all people for help. "Okay, then." Luke bent forward, going to pick you up. "Wait." He stopped immediately. His eyes snapped up to your face, which had gone frighteningly white. You were staring at the gash across your stomach. It went from the top of ribs to the side of your belly button. And it did not look good. The cut was jagged and blood poured out all over your clothes. Luke watched, helpless, as your fingers reached out to touch the cut. You hissed in pain before looking up into his eyes.

"I'm going to die." Your voice shook dangerously. He hated the way your eyes watered and the way you looked so scared. He'd never seen you look that way before and he wanted to wipe the sight from his memory. You did not have a face that was meant to look frightened. You had a face which was meant for pride and victory. "Look at me." He grabbed your chin and kneeled next to you. "You are not going to die." He pulled a spare T-shirt out of his bag, balled it up and pressed down on your wound with it. "I know, it hurts," he cooed as you whimpered with pain. "Hold it here."

Ignoring your groans of pain, he pulled you into his arms and stood up. Your vision was becoming blurry, but you did all you could to keep pressing down on your wound with his T-shirt. You heard him bark out orders to Alan in the distance. "Luke," you spoke softly as black dots danced in your vision. "No, no, no, don't close your eyes, princess. Keep looking at me." "I don't wanna die," you whispered before passing out. Luke clenched his jaw as he sped up the pace, ordering Alan to keep up with him. "Idiot. You're not gonna die. I won't let you."

You awoke to a soft yellow light surrounding you. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked around to find yourself in the camp infirmary. Luke was on a chair beside your bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Hey." "Hi," you croaked, trying to sit up. Wobbly, you managed to sit somewhat straight against the pillows. "How're you feeling?" Luke asked, looking over your face. He was relieved it to find it less white that it had been two days before. "Like shit, really." You let out a hoarse chuckle. He laughed shortly, looking down at his hands. You were surprised to find it was a really nice sound. That had been the first time you'd ever heard him laugh, and it felt really good to be the cause of it. "How long have I been out?" "Two days and a half." You were quiet for a moment as you thought back to the last things you remembered. "I guess I should thank you for saving my life, Castellan."

Luke let out something close to a scoff and leaned back in his chair. "You saved mine first. Thank you." "Well, yeah." You coughed. "I couldn't just let you die like-" "I don't hate you, you know," he interrupted you. You stopped talking. "Not really."

"What do you mean you don't hate me? Of course you do. You can't stand me. You think everything I do is stupid and bound to failure." "No, I- I don't hate you. I'm envious of you. Of what you have." "Of what I have? I have a fucking hole in my stomach right now, Caste-" "Of your mom. Mostly."

Your lips made an 'O' shape as you understood. Suddenly, everything made sense. That was why he'd disliked you from the start. You had the one thing he never would. Your mother was a minor goddess and did not have many children. This permitted her to be frequently in contact with you and therefore play the role of a present mother. Your father always kept in touch with you. You knew that with each of them you would always have someone to turn to. Unlike Luke.

"Mostly?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "I'm envious of how whenever you walk into a room, it immediately lights up. Of how everyone likes you. Of how you always look good, even if you've just been torn to pieces by a griffin. Of how you always seem to see the good in people, except for me, I guess. Of how you get along with everyone except for me." Luke didn't meet your eye as he spoke. "Maybe if you hadn't been such an ass when we first met, we'd have gotten along fine. And I do see the good in you, I just like to ignore it for my own benefit." Luke's eyes shot up to yours.

"What do you mean 'your own benefit'?" "Well, if I didn't ignore the way you're so kind to the new kids, the way you're so protective of your friends and Annabeth, the way you stand up for what you think is right, the way your eyes look when they catch the light just right and the way your laugh seems to draw everybody in, then maybe... Maybe I wouldn't dislike you at all. Quite the contrary, actually." You could feel your heart hammering inside your chest as you spoke. The way Luke was staring into your soul was not helping either.

"Say something, Luke," you pleaded. His first name felt soft and foreign on your tongue. You had never said it before.

Luke did not answer. Wordlessly, he stood up and was by your side in two steps. He cupped your cheek, leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. Your heart raced and when he pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and smiled before kissing you properly. Eruptions exploded in your stomach as you kissed him back. You pulled him closer by the shirt as his warm lips pressed against yours. Finally, you couldn't help but think. All those feelings you'd ignored and pushed to the back of your mind finally broke free and you almost cried from relief.

His free hand found the back of your neck and you shivered as his fingers caressed the skin there. You leaned into his touch and cupped his jaw before slowly sliding a hand into his hair. He let out a soft moan but before you could get too into it, a cough resounded throughout the room.

"I'm glad to see that you and Luke have managed to work through your differences, Y/N." Chiron spoke, amusement dripping from his words, as he trudged into the room. "Now tell me about your quest."

#percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan angst

[generalsmemories]

How do I tell my husband he got scammed into buying a lion?

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ summary: during one autumn afternoon you're suddenly faced with another one of your husband's impulsive purchases. only that this time it's a living being.

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor, might be a bit ooc

✧ a/n: hello there hsr fandom! i have unfortunately lost the battle against myself on making another sideblog for jing yuan, the man who has singlehandedly occupied my mind since his first appearance in the beta. i do hope that this will actually appear in the tags, but every infomation you would need if you want to request something is all up on the blog if you so wish! i hope we can have a pleasant time together !!

also this is not beta-read, we die like how fast my resolve to not create a jing yuan blog died.

Being the spouse of the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu comes with it's share of benefits and disadvantages. For one you're regarded at a higher position than most of it's citizens, often being stopped on the side of the road when taking a walk to exchange numerous pleasantries with merchants from outside of Xianzhou, various store owners or cloud knights on duty.

Another factor is shouldering the burden your husband has on his shoulder, an oath you had taken yourself the day you accepted Jing Yuan's nth proposal. You considered that a fair trade with his vast knowledge and insight into a possible future and doing everything behind the scene to avoid colliding headfirst into said problem. A feat that attracted you towards the general in the first place, minus his dashing looks of course.

The biggest disadvantage of publicly announcing that you were indeed the Arbiter-General's significant other was doing everything within your power to not throw your husband's famous title away for a newer, more terrible one. (more utc!)

Because as you see him walking up the steps of the Seat of Divine Foresight, your gaze is not locked with your husband's smiling face, rather it's fixated on the small being he has cradled in his arms. The soft smile you had quickly spreading into a more nervous and confused smile as you glance over at Qingzu, the counselor looking at you with just as much confusion.

How in the world did you manage to leave him alone out in the market area for an hour and he comes back with a lion cub?

"[Name], darling! Look at this grimalkin that a merchant had!"

A what now?

"... A grimalkin, you say?" Every book that has recorded history had specified that the grimalkin species had gone extinct, and you were well aware that your husband knew this fact. And yet here you were, faced with his smile directed down towards what you can clearly tell is a lion cub, his thumb pressing down at its paws affectionately.

You're starting to think that Yanqing's impulsive purchases with his sword collection aligns with your own husband's impulsiveness.

Coughing loudly into your hand, you take a deep breath before descending down the stairs to be on the same level as Jing Yuan, peering down onto the cub's face. It was indeed cute, and judging by how enamored Jing Yuan is, you can clearly tell that it's small stature is what attracted him to it in the first place.

Oh he's going to be crushed when it grows up, "It's adorable, Jing Yuan," you settle on saying, waving a finger over the lion's grimalkin face, the animal lifting its paws to try to grab it. You shoot a look towards Qingzu, a silent command for her to look into which outer merchant was now scamming people into buying literal lions. The counselor quickly excusing herself to look into the matter immediately, Jing Yuan only giving her a smile and a wave of his hand as she scurries down the stairs.

"Right? I decided to name it Mimi," he muses, and your heart breaks a tiny bit for him, but there are more pressing matters at hand than the fact that your husband once again got scammed because he was most likely bored out of his mind.

You would rather that the Xianzhou citizens know him as "The Dozing General" instead of the general that gets scammed a few times too many. How does one even go on about trying to tell their husband that the grimalkin in his arms is actually a lion?

"A fitting name indeed," you mutter, raising a hand to caress Jing Yuan's cheek, a simple gesture to make the general direct his attention to you. However, you could still see that his guard was slightly up with you. You only chuckle at that, leaning in to slide your lips over his own, Jing Yuan wasting no time to press back.

Another well hidden secret reserved for the walls of the Divine Foresight is the fact your husband is incredibly weak for his own spouse.

"... Want to tell me how much you paid for Mimi, dear?" you ask in a whisper when your lips part, thumb caressing over the mole under his eye.

Jing Yuan merely smiles, twisting his head to press his lips against your hand instead, "It was from my personal wallet, dear. Please don't fret over the small details."

"Darling, I hope you're aware that the small details would be the necessary funding for accomodation, toys and food, right?" you say with a chuckle, your husband freezing with his ministrations upon remembering that fact.

Oh well, you want to see how long it takes before your husband comes to realization that it's a lion. You just have to be extra vigilant towards the numerous fundings in the meantime.

While scrolling through your schedule for the next morning, your phone dings with a message from Qingzu. You quickly look down at Mimi whose resting on your belly and then at Jing Yuan whose sleeping self is still snoring away by your shoulder before letting out a small sigh in relief that the loud noise didn't awake any of them.

Qingzu:

Do I even have a say in this?

Was the message sent by Qingzu, attatched to it is a picture taken of what you can only presume is one of Jing Yuan's "diaries". The contents of it making you let out a low laugh, the shaking making said man beside you grumble before pressing his face into your neck.

Attatched image:

"Eventually, I paid hefty sum for the grimalkin, named it "Mimi", and took it home. Only that I'm too busy with official business and have little time to take care of Mimi. After thinking it over, chores like feeding it and changing its water should also be entrusted to Qingzu. I do wonder why [Name] looked so distraught when they first saw Mimi though. Maybe they didn't think I would favor the petite and small animals instead of the usual large and strong ones?"

[Name]:

So Qingzu, do you have an idea what the easiest way to tell someone they got scammed is?

Qingzu:

That is the role of the spouse, not the counselor.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagines #star rail x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, Chrissy tried to help her best friend, reader, with her crush, Eddie Munson, but she's very nervous when he's around her, meanwhile, Steve tries to help Eddie with his crush, Reader, but she makes him really nervous, they go to a party, where Reader sees a girl talking with Eddie, she has piercings, tattoos, wears leather and she thinks that Eddie's into that girl and not her, so she goes out of the house and Eddie goes to look after her and tells her that that girl likes Steve, not him, and that she's his cousin and Reader just throws herself at Eddie's arms, and tells him that she was jealous bc she likes him

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting <3

Shy game

Even though Y/N was popular and a cheerleader, had a strong voice and wasn't afraid to speak up. There was one person that made her so nervous that nothing came out of her mouth. Eddie Munson.

"He stares at you all the time! Just talk to him." Chrissy encouraged, once again here she was trying to get her best friend to just talk to Eddie.

"No way! He doesn't want some cheerleader coming up to him." Y/N argued. Eddie was not a fan of the popular crowd or people in general. She saw him shut down many girls before and she didn't want to be added to the list.

"And he probably thinks you wouldn't want him to walk up to you." Chrissy tried to reason with her. But Y/N shook her head.

~~~

"Dude, just talk to her. She's always looking at you. She wouldn't look in your direction if she disliked you." Steve groaned. There were only so many stories Steve could handle listening to about Y/N. But Eddie was too chicken to say anything to her.

"Probably because she thinks I'm a freak like the rest of the popular kids." Eddie groaned, slamming his dead down into his arms on the work counter.

"ow" Eddie said as he rubbed his forehead.

At first, Steve was happy to have Eddie join the family video store, but he didn't know all his shifts would be him talking about Y/N.

Eddie kept his head down as Steve continued to work. Once again his advice went straight out of Eddie's ear. Eddie felt Steve nudging him.... continuously.

"Can you not!" Eddie growled, picking up his head and using his hand to swat at Steve's arm. But then Steve nodded towards the door. Eddie looked and there she was.

Y/N giggled with Chrissy as they walked into the store. It was a Saturday morning, usually, no kids came in until the night shift. For once, Eddie was happy as hell he accepted a morning shift.

Eddie stared as she walked around the store. Her bright smile and pink glossy lips. Even though she was a few feet away, he could smell the sweetness of her perfume.

"Here's your chance! You're just being a helpful employee." Steve said, he shoved Eddie out from behind the counter. Pushing him in the direction of the girls.

"Hi, Eddie!" Chrissy said, loudly into Y/N's ear. A soft nudge from Chrissy as Y/N stood frozen. She bit her lip as she took in Eddie's band T-shirt, the green work vest, and his name tag. His vest was covered in pins of his favorite films. His black jeans and dirty white sneakers.

"Hi!" Eddie said, but his eyes stayed on Chrissy, he was terrified to even look at Y/N. He always felt like an idiot in that stupid work vest and now his crush had her eyes all over it.

"Horror movie fan! Y/N is too!" Chrissy observed from his vest, another nudge. But Y/N couldn't help but notice Eddie's eyes never once looked at her. Of course, he'd like Chrissy, she was perfect and so likable.

"That's sweet." Eddie coughed, his eyes moved to Y/N once, and went back to Chrissy. The small look was enough to make Eddie's heart race and his palms were drenched with sweat.

Eddie felt relief when his watch beeped.

"Time for my break, see ya." He gave a stiff nod and practically ran into the back. Neither girl had a chance to say goodbye.

"See! He barely looked at me." Y/N groaned.

~~~

Finally, the night arrived and Y/N planned to get drunk at Chrissy's party and ignore all the sad feelings she had about Eddie.

She was on the search for her first drink, eagerly pouring her red cup full. She threw in some ice and took in all the people in Chrissy's house.

~~~

Eddie was on his third drink of the night. His cousin Savannah was yapping in his ear about her date with Steve. But all Eddie could focus on was talking to Y/N. He knew he made an idiot of himself earlier and prayed the liquid courage would do all the work for him.

By the time Y/N worked her way into the living room, she found Eddie. But he wasn't alone.

A girl around his height stood across from him. She wore a T-shirt, which showed off her tattoos. She had piercings in her ears, nose, and lip. Y/N couldn't help but realize how much that girl was Eddie's type. The girl even had leather pants and a jacket around her waist. Thick black boots and dark nails. She was the perfect rockstar girlfriend.

Y/N gulped down her drink and raced to the front yard. She could barely see, the tears already welling in her eyes. It was all her fault anyway, Chrissy told her multiple times just to say something. And she refused, because of fear. Now Eddie could be free to anyone he wanted.

Eddie kept his eyes moving around the party and saw a split image of Y/N running out the front. Eddie wasn't sure if the alcohol did its job or if he was worried something happened to her, but he raced out the door behind her.

He found her on the curb, shivering as she held her body. Eddie carefully placed the jacket on her, her head snapped up as he took the spot next to her. He noticed silent tears streaming down her soft face.

"You okay?" He asked. She obviously didn't look okay, but always worth asking.

"Yeah! Just having a little moment." She tried to laugh it off. Even more embarrassed to be crying over a boy and he sat right next to her.

"We all have those! Maybe talking it out will help?" He offered.

"What's your type, Eddie?" Y/N asked, a bit of bitterness in her voice. Eddie was taken aback by the question and how snippy she sounded. "Because this morning, I swore you were checking out Chrissy, but now you are talking to this badass rocker chick. And I don't even know how I'm supposed to be either of them when they are both incredibly different." Y/N forgot how much of a lightweight she was, and hated how fast the liquor made her word vomit.

Eddie was in shock. He never thought he had a type, he just liked pretty girls. He never once thought Steve could be right about something, especially girls. But in this case, Steve was right.

"I wasn't checking out Chrissy. More of using Chrissy as a distraction from how scared I was to look at you. And the girl inside, her name is Savannah and she's my cousin. " Y/N loudly groaned as she covered her face.

"I'm an idiot!" She mumbled into her hands. Eddie laughed and gently removed her hands.

"No, you're not. It makes sense why you thought she'd be my type since she dresses like me and all. But my type is you. Not Chrissy, not rockstar chicks, fuck, not even another cheerleader. Because it's just you and it's always been just you." Eddie finally confessed. He couldn't believe just this morning he couldn't speak a word or look at her. But now he was confessing his love on a dirty curb with horny teenagers in the background.

"Just scared to talk to me?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah."

"I was too." Y/N smiled. But now she realized talking to Eddie was so easy. "I'm sorry for being jealous."

"Nothing to be sorry for. It was kinda hot." Eddie teased, a small wink as he threw his arm over her shoulder. The wink sent butterflies in her stomach as she giggled and moved closer to his body.

"How about a date? We can talk about all the things we were too scared to do." Eddie offered.

"I'd love that." Y/N smiled.

~~~

Steve smiled from the front door as he watched the two cuddle close.

Chrissy next to him with a proud smirk on her face.

"I did that." They said at the same time. Both dropped their smiles and looked at each other offended.

"You? No I did!" They said again at the same time.

"I DID!"

"I DID!"

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #ashwhowrites

[chestcongestion]

Demon-to-Demon Ch.2/5 : Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Warnings: Contagion, Vale/nti/no (he doesn't do anything, but I know some people aren't into his general...existence), and mess

Word count: 4,329

Chapter two is finished, right before I have to leave for work, funnily enough ^^, this chapter is even longer than the first, including some more setup because I love my porn with some plot, some structure. I don't know how many chapters this thing will have...I'm aiming for at least 4 or 5. Hope you enjoy!

“Hh’KZZHhshew! Hh’Tszchiiiew! HIH’TSHHEW!”  

Niffty dove to catch Alastor’s coffee mug before it hit the floor, placing it back on the end table next to the armchair that he’d slept in all night, waking up the next morning with itchier sinuses and an awful sore throat. 

“Got it! Maybe you should wait until you’re done sneezing before you drink your coffee, Alastor,” Niffty proposed. 

“Mby… snff!- My coffee would be ice cold by the…H-heh…HEH’KZZHHT! HEH’KSHIEW! Heh’KTSCHIEWW… by the time I’m done sneezing,” Alastor replied, his voice noticeably hoarse as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“That’s true,” Niffty said, wiping her hands on her dress skirt. 

Alastor held his handkerchief with both hands, loudly blowing his nose until he had to pause and catch his breath, scrubbing under his nostrils to try and fend off the building itch, “This is ludicrous,” he grumbled to himself, “How did this happen? H-huh’KSCHIEW! Hh’KZzhht!” 

“For fuck’s sake!” Husk groaned from his station behind the bar, wincing at the droplets that sprayed into the air with each unruly sneeze, “Same way it’s gonna happen to the rest of us if you don’t cover your damn mouth!” 

Alastor rolled his eyes, “You seem to have survived a direct hit to the face just fine, Husker,” he said with a knowing smile. 

Husk shuddered, thinking about the previous day and instinctively wiping his face off again, “Don’t remind me,” he said with a huff, “I hope whatever this is knocks you out again so I don’t have to hear your smart ass mouth.”  

Alastor lowered his eyelids threateningly, “Excuse mbe?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, reaching for his microphone, only to be thwarted by the scratchiness of his throat, coughing into his wrist. 

“I could get used to this,” Husk chuckled, “You bein’ too sick to threaten me.” 

Alastor- still coughing- angrily stuck up his middle finger in Husk’s direction. Eventually, the coughing fit let up and Alastor was able to take a deep breath, leaning back in his armchair and briefly shutting his eyes. 

“Morning everyone!” Charlie said with a smile upon arriving downstairs with Vaggie. 

“Mornin’,” Husk replied with a wave, taking a swig from a bottle of cognac he kept underneath the bar counter. Niffty broke her focus on sweeping the floor around the bar to give Charlie an eager wave before returning to her task. 

“Hh’ptshh! Hh’kzZHht! HNK’Tshhieww!” Alastor sneezed, wiping off the underside of his nose with his damp handkerchief, the constant friction leaving his nose irritated, twitchy, and shiny, “Pardon mbe- Snff snff!- I can’t stop… HH’KSchiiew!” 

“I was going to ask if you’re feeling any better, but I think I know the answer,” Charlie said, cautiously holding out her hand, “Can I feel your forehead?” 

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” Alastor muttered, staring at Charlie’s hand while he gently pushed it away with his microphone. 

“That’s fair… can I at least take your temperature with this?” Charlie asked, holding up an ear thermometer and flashing Alastor a pleading smile, “It’ll only take a second.” 

Alastor’s left eye twitched, but he relented, “If you insist… snff… make it qui-ih…IH’KSHHIEW!” he said, wrenching his eyes shut as Charlie slid the thermometer into his ear. 

The thermometer beeped, and Charlie quickly pulled it out , “Almost 102… how do you feel?” 

Alastor ignored the heat that had risen in his cheeks, answering Charlie’s inquiry with a shrug until the prickling sensation in his sinuses returned, “HNK’TSHHEW! HH’KSSHHIEW!... Messy is probably the most notable word I’d use…snf-snf!” 

“Fair enough,” Charlie replied, only to jump when Angel rushed into the parlor, draping himself over the back of the sofa, visibly out of breath, “Oh, hi Angel!” 

“Hi, yeah, G’Mornin’, watch this-” Angel said hurriedly, turning on the television in the parlor and glancing at his phone before a 666 News bulletin interrupted whatever had been playing before it. 

“Good Morning Pentagram City, I’m Katie Killjoy!” an all-too-familiar voice greeted from the other side of the screen, “Breaking news from scientists in the Doomsday district: A viral infection is sweeping its way through The Pentagram. While completely harmless, it is said to be incredibly contagious, and researchers say that they are uncertain of how long the infection lasts.” 

“Well, that explains what happened yesterday,” Charlie sighed, leaning against the arm of the sofa and reading the text on the screen, “It’s already infected 16% of the entire city? That’s almost impressive…” 

“Don’t think the virus needs your encouragement, Princess,” Husk piped up from behind the bar. 

“Sorry, force of habit,” Charlie chuckled, silently reading the list of symptoms that appeared on the screen, “Huh, these are basically just your symptoms, Alastor.” 

A silence filled the room, all present individuals shifting their gaze to Alastor, and then to each other. 

“Ohhhh,” Charlie said, finally connecting the dots, “Shit.”  

Alastor blew his nose, tucking his handkerchief away when he finished, “I should have skipped that accursed meetii-IH’Kschhiew! Hih’KShhew! HIH’KSCHIEWWW!” he said, swiping his wrist underneath his nostrils after his last explosive sneeze, wincing at how the wetness of said sneezes was beginning to make his irritated nose look shiny. 

 “It’s okay Alastor, hey, nobody else is sick yet, that’s a good sign, right?” Charlie asked. 

Alastor shrugged, taking another cautious sip of his coffee and wincing at how the harsh texture against his scratchy throat made him want to cough, “I suppose so,” he said, pushing himself out of the armchair and attempting to brush off the way he swayed on his feet, “I’m going to spend my confinement getting caught up on some correspondence… best of lu-huh…HUH’KSHHHEW! Hnk’TSHIEW!...luck, best of luck.” 

In a blink, Alastor’s armchair was empty, leaving nothing behind except an invisible radiating aura of germs that made everyone nervous about approaching it. 

“Alright, I’m heading out with Vaggie to go do some more field recruiting, have fun while I’m gone!” Charlie announced, walking out of the front doors, her left arm linked with Vaggie’s right. 

Angel checked his phone before stuffing it into his chest fluff, “I gotta bounce, today’s shoot is in two hours but makeup’s gonna take at least 30 minutes, see ya!” he said, waving goodbye to the group, shooting Husk a wink on his way out the door. 

“I’m gonna… Gonna go make another mural, yeah… found a bangin’ wall to paint on the other day, hope to fuck it’s still blank,” Cherri said, bouncing on her heels. She’d only recently exchanged her bombs for brushes, after Charlie’s recommendation of a more ‘constructive’ hobby, and it was going well as an outlet for her emotions and destructive urges. 

Once Cherri left through the front doors, Husk and Niffty were alone in the parlor. Husk breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the bar counter, his nose twitching. 

“Niff… d-do me a solid, hm?” Husk asked, tapping his claws together as he struggled to resist rubbing his nose. 

“Okay! What is it?” Niffty asked, scrambling over to the bar and standing on the counter. 

“I-ih… I need you to h-hih… hit me in the face w-whhihhth your feather duster,” Husk pleaded in a hushed tone, fanning in front of his face as his nose twitched faster, “P-please…Hehh…h-hihhh” 

“Why?” Niffty asked, blinking innocently as she pulled her feather duster out of the loop in her skirt’s waistband. 

“I…Iihh… Hihh… H-hihh!... I gotta sndeeze…snf!” Husk muttered, “It’s st-huhh…Huhh!- stuck.” 

“Ohhhh! Okay!” Niffty said, smacking Husk on both sides of his face with her feather duster, before brushing it up against Husk’s twitchy, sensitive nose, dust clinging to his sinuses with each desperate inhale. 

“H-HUHH’KSCHOO! HUH’KSCHOO! Huh’KSCHUHHH!!” 

Niffty blinked, watching Husk’s violent sneezing fit practically double him over, his fur standing on its end and a slight trickle of moisture beginning to leak from his perfect feline jellybean of a nose. 

“Mmbh…SnFFF!...guhh,” Husk groaned, running the back of his hand under his nostrils with a damp sniffle, his typical alcohol-induced flush shifting from grey to pink, “Fuck I ndeeded that…SNrkk!” 

“I thought you’d sneeze cuter,” Niffty huffed, flicking another puff of dust from her feather duster into Husk’s face with a pout. 

“hHRR’KSCHUHHH! Hhn’KSCHEWWW! HNK’SCHUHHH! H-hUH’KSSHHOO!...SnRKK!...Snff-snff!” Husk sneezed again, his eyes growing irritated and his eyelids getting puffy, the patch of skin above his nose turning an itchy pink as he scrubbed it with the heel of his palm, “Shit, Ndiffty, quit it…snffff!”

“You sneeze like an old man,” Niffty teased, giggling as she held out her feather duster again, only for Husk to grab hold of it and gently push it away, “Awww…no fun!” 

“News flash, I amb an old man…snff! Shit…” Husk grumbled, grabbing a paper towel from the roll behind the bar and noisily blowing his nose, tossing the soiled paper into the trash and attempting to wipe the congestion-induced moisture out of his lower eyelids. 

“You’re good at hiding,” Niffty said with a smile, “I almost didn’t notice you were sick… I don’t think anyone else did at all.” 

“How the hell did you notice?” Husk asked, raising a fluffy eyebrow. 

“You kept pinching your nose, rubbin’ it and pushing up on it… you tried passin’ it off like you were just grooming your face, but I know you,” Niffty whispered, poking Husk’s nose, “You use the other hand for that.” 

“Well ain’t you a clever bug,” Husk scoffed, shooting Niffty a warm smile, “This stays between us until I get shittier at hiding, got it?” 

“You may ndeed to expand your definition of ‘us’,” 

Husk felt his heart jump into his throat, and lunged forward out of panic, nearly slamming his head against the counter, “HHK’SSCHHHUHH! Shit!” he exclaimed, letting out a hoarse cough, “I dunno what to be angrier about, you gettin’ me sick by sneezin’ in my face or you being a nosy fuckin’ creep!” 

“Why not both?” Alastor chuckled, his laughter taking on a wheezy undertone and threatening to turn into a cough until he suffocated it with a harsh swallow, “I’m almost impressed, you’re better at keeping up appearances than me… I suppose after all our years together I’m rubbing off on you.” 

Husk dodged Alastor’s attempt to pet him between his ears, snarling at his boss with an unamused glare, “Don’t you have letters to write or some shit?” he hissed, the plumage on his tail fluffing up as he flattened his ears in frustration. 

“Oh, I have all the time in the world to finish mby letters, eavesdropping is mbuch more fun- snFf!” Alastor replied, pulling out his handkerchief and blowing his nose, rolling his eyes at the heavy rumble of congestion in his sinuses, “Uch…snff!... disgusting.” 

“Tell me about it,” Husk grumbled, staring at Alastor’s flannel pajamas and shooting him a teasing smile, “You look ridiculous.” 

Alastor smacked Husk in the back of the head with his microphone, “I will not take pot shots from someone who looks like they use a giant litter box,” he said through clenched teeth, feeling a familiar tickle in his sinuses when Husk poked his nose, “H-hihh…Hih… HIH’Tshhiew! Hihh’TShhhewww! HIh’TSsHiew!” 

“I could get used to you havin’ an off switch,” Husk said with a smirk. 

Alastor sniffled, wrinkling his nose and wiping around his nostrils with his handkerchief, annoyed with how often he had to pull it out and tuck it away in his pockets again, “You… I…” Alastor blinked, swaying a bit on his feet and steadying himself by pressing his palms against the counter, “I completely forgot what I was going to say…” 

Husk noticed the beads of sweat trickling down from Alastor’s hairline, the glassy quality of his eyes, and the sudden uptick in effort he was putting into breathing. If those weren’t enough to signal that their playful banter was over, twenty seconds later Alastor silently lowered himself to the floor, stretching out on his back and covering his eyes with both hands, still smiling, but noticeably drained. 

“I am going to lie here… until everything stops spinning,” Alastor said breathlessly, holding a hand over his mouth to cover a violent cough, the crackle of congestion audible in his lungs, “Euch…” 

Husk’s ear twitched, and he quietly joined Alastor on the floor, curling up next to Alastor’s reclined form and purring, in spite of the fact that purring aggravated his runny nose.

Niffty resolved to leave the two alone, hurrying away from the bar to finish her daily cleaning checklist, completely oblivious when a message on Husk’s phone popped up from Angel. 

[Might be back earlier than I thought… today’s shoot’s goin’ weird] 

Across the pentagram, in Valentino’s porn studio, Angel found himself on his hands and knees, filming B-roll material for the studio’s current work in progress. The floodlights had been turned off, and the air conditioning in the studio was cranked, making the filming space so cold that Angel could practically see his own breath. 

“He’s shakin’ too much, the DP can’t get the camera to focus,” Travis whispered. 

“Angel, baby, the more you shake, the longer you have to stay like that until we get a good shot of your pretty little ass,” Valentino crooned, blowing a plume of smoke into the air and fanning himself off with a copy of the script, “What’s the matter? You nervous? Need something to calm you down?” 

“I’m n-not nervous,” Angel retorted, running the back of his hand under his nostrils, “I’m cold… snff!... it’s freezin’ in here.” 

Valentino groaned, massaging his temples and snapping his fingers at two members of the film crew, “Turn the lights back on,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off, his pectorals and abdomen slick with sweat, “Fuck, I’m gonna melt, why is it so hot in here?!” 

Angel’s shivering subsided slightly with the heat from the large floodlights returning, and he managed to hold his position long enough for the camera to capture what it needed to capture. 

“Okay Angie, roll onto your back and open your legs,” Valentino instructed, wincing at the bright lights, which were beginning to give him a headache. 

Angel rolled onto his back, spreading his legs open, “Hhh… Val… I uhb… Uh..Huhh…-” he attempted to ask for a moment to pause, his breath beginning to hitch, the tickle that seemed to randomly appear in his sinuses building to a quiet crescendo- 

“Hih’kshuu! Ih’kshuu! Ih…h-ihhh… ‘Kshuu!” Valentino’s squeaky, quiet sneezes caught Angel off guard, so much so that he forgot about his own need to sneeze, “I-IHH’KShuu!” 

Angel sat up, leaning forward and hugging his knees as he watched Valentino pluck a handful of tissues from a box next to his chair, holding them up to his face as Angel’s breath hitched again, “Huh…h-ihh…Hihh-” 

“Ihh’pshuu! Ihh’KSHUU! Hih’kshuu! ‘Kshuu! ‘KShhiew!” Valentino sneezed, throwing his damp tissues into a small trashcan that he typically reserved for dumping out his ash trays, “Fuck! I can’t s-stop sne-eezi’g- IHH’KSHUU!” 

Angel frowned, frustrated that his shithead boss seemed to be snatching his own sneezes out from under him. He swallowed, wincing at a dull soreness in the back of his throat, and basked in the warmth of the floodlights while Valentino emptied his sinuses into another handful of tissues. 

“Where were we?” Valentino asked Travis, who shrugged, “Dammit… snff… I can’t fucking focus with this itching!” 

Angel stared intently, watching his boss scrub desperately at his nostrils with the heel of his palm, his cool-toned skin looking hypersensitive and blotchy. 

Eventually, Valentino gave up, flopping back in his chair and motioning for Angel to approach, “Angieee, c’mere baby…snff!” he beckoned. 

Angel rolled his eyes while Valentino wasn’t looking, and slid off of the bed, sprawling out at his boss’s feet and looking up at him from between his long legs, “Yes, Val?” he asked, his sore throat giving his voice a husky overtone that made him feel sexier, even if it was slightly painful. 

Valentino paused as a shiver ran through his body, making him practically vibrate as more sweat trickled down his face, the previously sexual look in his eyes melted into something more vulnerable and subdued, almost frightened. 

“Uhm… n-nevermind,” he mumbled, massaging his temples and jumping when another shiver ran up his spine, “Fuck… now I’m cold.” 

Angel blinked, feeling heat radiating from Valentino’s body in a manner indistinguishable from the sensation of hovering your hand over a curling iron.

Not particularly concerned about the man keeping him on a choke chain, Angel did see how the current circumstances could get him off the clock earlier than expected, “Val, I think you’ve got a fever,” he said, laying on the faux-concern as thick as possible, cupping Valentino’s warm face with both hands. 

Valentino’s antennae fluttered at the soothing touch, leaning into it, “Really?” he asked, his tired eyes briefly closing as Angel stroked his cheeks. 

“Yeah…” Angel replied, pressing the back of his hand to Valentino’s forehead, feeling a noticeable warmth, but nothing particularly extreme,“You’re burnin’ up… poor baby.” 

Valentino seemed to wilt in his chair, snapping his fingers at the film crew to turn the floodlights back off and getting up from his seat, struggling to stand on his own two feet, “Okay, yeah, we’re done here… I feel like shit…IHh’kshuu! H-hih’kshuu!” he muttered, “Everyone out, I’ll let you know when we’re picking back up with the schedule.” 

Angel nodded, tugging on his shorts and jacket, “Bye Val, hope you feel better,” he said, waving goodbye and rushing out of the studio before Valentino could change his mind. 

“Bye Angiehh- IHH’KSHUU! ‘Kshuu! ‘Kshhieew!- Fuck! I’b gonna kill Velvette for getti’g mbe sick- IH’KSHIIEW!” Valentino hissed. 

Angel sprinted out of the Vees’ media tower, panting to catch his breath upon reaching the bottom, coughing into his arm when his ragged breaths caught in his scratchy throat, “Phew… made it,” he sighed to himself, finger-combing his fluffy hair to neaten it out. 

On his walk back to the hotel, it dawned on Angel that the streets seemed less crowded than usual, there were still people out and about, but it wasn’t the jam-packed squeeze it normally was… not by a long shot.  

“Wonder where everybody is,” Angel pondered out loud, scoffing at his hoarse voice. 

Suddenly, the familiar prickle that had built up in Angel’s sinuses while he was working returned in full force, with nothing distracting him, it built, and built, and built until Angel stopped in his tracks, fanning in front of his face and pawing around on his person for a tissue. 

“Hahh…H-hahh…Ah…!!” 

Angel sniffled faintly, trying to fight the urge to sneeze and failing miserably, by the time he got his hands on something he even thought was a tissue, it was too late. 

“Ah’tshhheww! Hah’tshew! HAH’KTSHIEW! A-ahh’KSHIEW!! ‘KSHIEWW!” Angel sneezed, polishing off his fit with a damp sniffle, thanking fate that no one was around to see the dense mist of droplets he’d just sprayed into the air, “Fuck mbe…snff! That’s probably where everybody else is… somewhere sneezin’ their heads off…AH’KSHHEW!” 

Angel winced, blowing his “nose” into the single tissue he found in a nearly-empty travel packet in his back pocket, tossing the soggy paper into a nearby trash can. Each spraying sneeze seemed hell-bent on scraping at his already-raw throat, swallowing growing more and more painful with every sneeze. 

An hour passed, and Angel walked through the hotel’s front doors with an exhausted expression painted onto his face, struggling to sniffle enough to keep the constant trickle of moisture at bay, his “nose” reddened from the constant rubbing. 

“Back early!” Angel announced, gently resting a hand on his throat and swallowing, frustrated that the husky, almost tattered quality of his voice had only managed to get worse on his walk home. 

“You’re back from a shoot in a good mood?” Husk asked incredulously from his position behind the bar, pouring a shot of whiskey into two mugs of steaming liquid, “Did your boss fall out the window?” 

“Fuck, I wish- snff!- he’s sick with whatever’s been goin’ around,” Angel explained, pausing to clear his throat, “Sorry… but it was ridiculous, he had the AC cranked up and the lights off cause he was too hot… snff-snff! I swear I could see my breath in there it was so cold.” 

Husk chuckled, “Don’t think keepin’ a porn studio ice cold is the best idea,” he said, carefully swiping underneath his nose when Angel wasn’t paying attention, “What’d he have you doin’ today? Normally your voice ain’t this wrecked without givin’ some giant head for an hour.” 

“Actually, I didn’t even have to do anythin’ today, they were just gettin’ B-roll shots of my body by myself… it was kinda nice,” Angel paused, “Mby…snff…sorry… mby throat’s just sore, it’s kinda pissin’ me off cause I feel like I’m losin’ my voice.” 

Husk’s ear twitched, and he silently pushed one of the steaming mugs over to Angel, “This should help at least,” he said with a kind smile, both ears twitching when his fingers brushed up against Angel’s. 

The two demons took a sip of the hot substance in their mugs, and then another, before setting their drinks down. Angel licked his lips at the taste of black tea, honey, and whiskey, a blend of flavors that reminded him of his brief stint lounge singing back on Earth. 

“This is good, thanks,” Angel said, taking another sip and sighing at the warm liquid soothing his scratchy throat on the way down. 

“Don’t mention it, glad the pain wasn’t caused by someone else’s dick for once,” Husk laughed, clenching his teeth to stifle the cough that was building in his chest, and taking another swallow of his drink. 

The plumes of steam blooming from Husk and Angel’s mugs reached up to their faces and wafted into their sinuses, the steam loosening up the congestion they’d built up from hours of sniffling. 

“H’RrSCHUHHH! Hh’TSCHUHHH! Hnk’TSHOOO! hNk’SHEWWW,” Husk sneezed, hurriedly hiding the mess of congestion behind a handful of paper towels, noisily blowing his nose and trying not to wince at the abrasive paper towel rubbing his sensitive little jellybean raw. 

“Ah’KShew! Ah’kShiiew! Hah’kchew! Hnk’Chiew! Ah’KShhhew!” Angel sneezed, running the back of his wrist under his nostrils and wincing at the mess he’d made of his gloves by swiping at his “nose”.  

“Well, at least I don’t have to  hold ‘em in anymore,” Husk sighed, noisily blowing his nose and tossing the bundle of soiled paper towels in the trash, before turning to address Angel, “You too?” 

“Mmhm,” Angel replied, wiping tears from his watery eyes, “I don’t even know who I caught it fromb- A-ahh’KSHEW!- either Val… or Velvette, or Smiles… where is he, anyway?” 

Husk gestured toward the armchair in the parlor with his head, where Alastor was curled up, half asleep, staring at the television with glassy eyes, “The fever’s kickin’ his ass, watch this- Alastor!” he called out. 

“Hm?” Alastor replied, turning to face Husk. 

“How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Husk asked, sticking up his middle finger at Alastor, who could barely register shapes in his current state. 

“Uhmb…Hnk’Shhiew!... three?” Alastor replied, squinting at Husk’s hand from the negligible distance between the parlor and the bar. 

Husk snickered, “Yup, three,” he lied, turning back to face Angel, “He doesn’t even know where he is right now.” 

“Oh shit, that’s gonna be us,” Angel sighed, polishing off the last of his drink and clearing his throat, “I already feel a little woozy… I’mb gonna go change outta this, you comin’?” 

“Comin’ to change into mby pajamas, or comin’ to watch you change?” Husk inquired. 

“Both?” Angel offered, scratching behind Husk’s left ear. 

“Both it is,” Husk replied.  

Thirty minutes later, Husk and Angel emerged from Angel’s room, both looking noticeably more tired than when they vanished upstairs, and collapsed onto the sofa next to Alastor’s armchair. Husk positioned himself so that his head was nestled underneath Angel’s chest fluff, and Angel shuffled in place so that Husk was right between both of his legs, the large cat’s fever-heightened body heat keeping Angel from shivering. 

“I feel hot,” Husk grumbled, running a hand under his nose and wishing he had a box of tissues. 

“I feel cold,” Angel whimpered, hugging Husk closer to him in an attempt to fight back against his building chills, “a-AH’kSHEW!...’kSHeww! ‘Ksheww!” 

“I mbiss phonographs… snrkk!... It was always so interesti’g to watch themb spin,” Alastor rambled feverishly, his nose twitching, “Hnk’TSHhiew! HNK’TSHHEW!” 

Niffty draped a blanket over Angel and Husk, and wiped down Alastor’s forehead with a damp washcloth, before returning to her flurry of cleaning tasks, humming peacefully to herself while the three pitifully sick demons stared at the television. 

Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie returned from their work outside the hotel, “Guys, we’re back!” Charlie called out, “Cherri texted me saying that she’d be back tomorrow, she’s scouting out another mural space right now, but I wonder if Angel’s back from his shoot yet.” 

Niffty tugged on Charlie’s pant leg, “Look,” she whispered, gesturing toward the parlor, where Husk and Angel were snoring against one another, and Alastor- while awake- was feverishly rambling to himself. 

“Oh no,” Charlie sighed, “At least they look comfortable… the news wasn’t lying about this thing being contagious.” 

“Yeah, maybe we should be a bit more cautious around them and their germs before anyone else gets sick,” Vaggie proposed, inching away from the germy haze in the parlor, with her hands behind her back. 

“Ihh’pshuu! Ih’pshuu! H-hihh’kshew!” 

Charlie and Vaggie winced at the sound of Niffty sneezing from the other room. 

“I’ll go get her,” Vaggie said, “Whatever this is, let’s cross our fingers it doesn’t get any worse.” 

“Yeah… fingers crossed,” Charlie echoed, crossing her fingers while staring at her sick friends with wary concern, their congested snoring occasionally broken up by a hoarse cough from Angel, “Feel better, guys.” 

When Charlie walked away, Alastor drowsily looked up, following her with his eyes until she left the room, mouthing a delirious ‘Thank you’ in her direction before leaning back in his armchair and falling asleep. 

#snz #snz fic #snz kink #illness kink #gingey.rtf #ha/zb/in ho/tel

[ninapi]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Fireflies ╝

Premise: Haganezuka gets a marriage proposal from one of the elders of the village, marrying was a must for those in the Swordsmith's village, self preservation of the clan and its techniques was absolutely mandatory. He hated the idea to his very core, to say the least.

Word count: 3544

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Amongst all the preparations of the corps to beat Muzan, came the craftsmanship of the Nichirin swords, an art that had been passed from generation to generation to this day.

Haganezuka Hotaru, had the honor, some would say, to craft every single one of Tanjiro’s swords, even if the last one wasn’t his own creation, thanks to him it was in fighting conditions.

Though, this also meant one thing, now that the sword was ready he had a lot of free time since his mountain training was over as well, the sword had been officially delivered to its owner and he had just one eye left, even if he wasn’t completely sure of how all that actually happened.

Tecchin, the village’s chief and his father figure called upon him a lovely afternoon.

He thought he was being summoned for tea and sweets, as that’s usually the only reason to call him there, but that was far from the truth this time.

He was rewarded with the promised mitarashi dango set, yet tea time was not the reason for his summoning.

“Hotaru, you are to marry next full moon.” a mochi ball got stuck in his throat making him cough loudly in order to save his own life.

“WhAT?”

“You heard me, boy. It was decided already, you will marry the great granddaughter of the previous chief. I wanted her for Gantetsu, but it appears she prefers you instead. It is your duty to take her hand in marriage, it’s final.”

“But why me? What do you mean she prefers me? Why was I an option? Does she know I don’t want any part in this? Does she even know what she’s getting herself into? Tell me where she lives! I will make her regret her decision!” he was hyperventilating at this point, smoke coming out of his mask, the elder getting ready to face one of his angry outbursts.

“I do not know why she would prefer a crazy boar like you, but it is a fact that cannot be changed. You can ask her all those questions yourself; she should be here any second now.” the man was trying to calm himself down by chewing on some more treats, he needed his head clear, otherwise he would get sucked into this situation without an exit path.

You did arrive a few minutes after his statement, proving your eagerness. The kimono you were wearing was beyond expensive, your hair up beautifully decorated with the finest hairpins, and your makeup had been clearly done by someone who knew what they were doing.

You looked like a doll, one to keep on display for all the village to look at and brag. Or at least that was the impression Hotaru got the moment you stepped into the tatami matted room, definitely not someone who should be interested in a man like him.

“(Y/N), my dear, please sit with us. Do you like mitarashi dango? I got these from the famous shop down the street, they’re Hotaru’s favorite treat.” the mentioning of his name got him restless once more, he had so many questions but also just wanted this whole thing to end so he could go back to his lone training in his room.

“I do, Tecchin-sama. You’re very kind.” stretching a hand over to grab one of the sweetened treats, you smiled in his direction. He just couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman, you weren’t just taking his time with your ridiculous expectations but were also eating his food.

“I informed Hotaru of the ceremony and its date, I will leave you two alone so you can get to know each other.” you just nodded in appreciation, bowing to the elder as he exited the room, plainly excited to finally have some alone time with your future husband.

“Woman, what is this about? I’ve never seen you in my life, why is it you wanna marry me?” the question caught you off guard, you knew you would have to address the matter at some point, you just wished it wasn’t this soon, you tried your best to look presentable and get in his good side, yet that didn’t seem to be the case.

“I- well, I have seen you around…” your voice turned softer, uncertainty could be felt from your words but also an unexplained amount of warmth came along.

“You’ve seen me around? That’s it? Have you not seen any other men ever or what’s your deal?” you could see his frustration growing by the second, you were aware of his bad temper and wanted to avoid triggering him yourself, especially on your first official meeting, though it seemed you also failed at that.

“No, no. That’s not it. I…” sitting up straighter, you left behind the sticky sweets to fully convey your thoughts and show him your resolution filled heart, it was now or never. “I saw you when you were training in the mountains. I was there myself in isolation, trying to cure the restlessness of my soul. You see, my family had been trying to get me to marry someone for a good decade now and it just never worked. But I was the problem, not them.” this piqued his interest, so he just remained quiet, listening without making any sort of commentary.

“They never interested me; I just couldn’t see myself marrying men like them. My father was so angry that he sent me to the mountains to reflect on my behavior. That’s when I saw you. Your extreme rigorous training, you were so focused you didn’t even notice I was sitting beside you one day.” racking his brain he is certain he didn’t see any woman at all while training, this was concerning to a degree.

“To me it was a wonderful sight, all that determination, that concentration, that urgency to become better, those muscles….” the last part was nearly over a whisper, yet he heard it loud and clear, the tips of his ears burning at the little piece of information gained.

“So, when Tecchin-sama and the elders came up with the proposal to marry his son, I just picked the son that managed to interest me instead of the one who was being offered. I also happened to be around to see how you were bleeding everywhere and kept on sharpening that blade for the young lad after the attack, it was so alluring and ugh, yeah…you know…” he could see your blush shinning brightly even under the layers of fancy makeup you were wearing.

He was definitely not prepared for such a confession; he was more than ready to not only turn you down but make a scene just to make sure you’d hate him. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to go the route anymore, though.

“So, you’re physically attracted to me? Is that it? You haven’t even seen my face. What if I’m an ugly bastard?”

“Oh, but I saw it…though, even if you were…I’ve never seen someone so determined and with such a strong nature. That would be enough for me, since I’m considering traits that I want in a husband.” you were giving him a soft smile, one that made him shuffle on his seat cushion. He’s used to people yelling at him, disrespecting him, being complete dicks to him, but he was most certainly not used to this softness.

“You don’t know me, woman. I don’t get along with others, I prefer to be on my own and some say I have a bad character. Surely this isn’t what you want in a husband, rethink your decision, nobody would blame you for leaving me, I’m a lost cause anyways, nobody expects me to get married.”

“Haganezuka-sama, could you please stop insulting me? I know what I want ok? I like you, is that so hard to believe?”

You were both now standing, facing each other equally enraged by each claim, “Oh you think I’m insulting you? You haven’t gotten a sample of it yet even, prepare yourself, you have no idea what you signed up for, you…you ugly pigheaded woman!” his mask was fogging up with the steam he was blowing out of his nose, completely deranged at this point.

But you…

Oh…you were mad, alright.

How dare he call you such an awful thing after all the time you invested in dolling yourself up for him, this was outrageous.

He was screaming nonsense in your direction, a bad headache coming its way up your frontal lobe.

That’s when you saw your chance.

You’ve heard it from others in the tavern downtown, tickling this man was the only way to get him to shut up, that was his weakest point, an adorable one at that.

Tackling him to the ground, you sat on his hips, pinning him down with one hand on his chest, the other tickling his side at an insane speed.

He was so overwhelmed by the entire thing that his breathing became ragged quite fast, his strength quickly declining, giving you the chance to lift the mask off his face.

When he had your own so close to his, he could see the remaining tracks of angry tears down your beautiful face. It seems like he really hurt your feelings with his harsh words, and honestly that’s what he wanted to accomplish, but seeing your effort so up close made him feel bad for ruining everything.

Not only your clothing and hair accessories were probably bought for this encounter alone, he could see the amount of time getting in so many things must have taken, how your makeup was now ruined due to him, how even if you were tickling him and making him laugh to his death as a result, your expression was one of pain.

“I don’t have a pig face….” you were mumbling in between sniffs, your hands coming to a halt when you noticed his eye trained on your face. “You don’t….”

He sighed, getting you off of him gently, still trying to regain his breath. “Do you really want to, you know…marry me? Even when I’m like this?”

You nodded, wiping your face of any watery remains, “You’re the only man I’ve ever considered for my future. Am I…not to your liking…?” your eyes were on the floor, afraid of his response not being what you had hoped for.

“Ugh…you’re not half bad I guess, but how can I marry someone I don’t know? I get it, you’ve seen me around, you seem to know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you besides what I just gathered on your crazy stalkerish behavior.” his wording made you chuckle, the sadness filling your chest moving away on its own accord.

“Would you consider it after a few dates?” he groaned, reaching over for his discarded mask, covering his face with it once more.

“Just don’t make it awkward…you know where I live.” getting up, he headed over to his room, a weird feeling of expectation invading his confused self.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you asked him to consider your offer after going in a few dates, he honestly thought you’d be pestering him about it the very next day, yet it’s been a week since your last encounter and he hadn’t heard a word from you.

Tecchin thought his boy had ruined everything as usual, so he himself went to check on you, to try to convince you to take his actual son instead.

To his surprise, you were covered in rice flour from head to toe when he arrived at your residence, trying to master the art of pounding it into mochi.

Saying he was confused was an understatement, he thought you’d be heartbroken hiding away in a corner of the house, but you were very much busy, determination covering your face, it reminded him of Hotaru when he’s working, and so, he began to understand your line of thought when choosing a husband.

“(Y/N) dear, what on earth are you doing?”

“Oh, Tecchin-sama!! Sorry I didn’t see you there, I’ve been a bit busy. Who knew mitarashi dangos were so complicated to prepare.” so that’s what you were doing, he thought you’d been chasing chickens in the kitchen and had fallen into a sack of flour, that’s what you looked like at least.

“Why don’t you just buy them from the specialty store near my house?”

“Well, I wanted to show Haganezuka-sama I can be a good wife, so I thought of learning how to prepare his favorite dish, honestly I didn’t expect it to be this hard, but it’s been fun, I’m confident this batch will meet his expectations.” Tecchin was moved to tears, he’s never thought someone would be willing to go this far for that silly adoptive son of his, maybe you were really the one.

“I’m sure they’ll be perfect, dear. Please stop by the house to say hello when your done. Even if he denies it, I can see how restless Hotaru is, he’s most likely thinking you gave up on him.”

“I would never! I’ll go get myself ready as soon as the sauce is fully cooked!” knowing he was grumpy on your account made you smile to yourself, he’s so adorable, you wondered how nobody has noticed this as of yet, it’s so obvious to you it’s painful.

Thankfully, the treats ended up being better than you had expected, the sauce sweetened to perfection, the mochi gooey as it should be, the golden color from it indicated they had been cooked to perfection.

For your visit though this time you opted for a more relaxed fit, you wanted him to see you for who you really are and not some kind of kimono shop mannequin for sale. A pale pink yukata with scattered white lilies on the bottom, a soft braid threaded with wild flowers and only a bit of lip tint as makeup.

To any, you looked pretty ordinary, but when Haganezuka opened the door to your calling, his mask fell from his face on its own.

It was amusing how you looked even more beautiful with clearly less effort. If you looked like a doll before, you looked like some sort of goddess now, those you see painted in temples.

The natural glow of your skin, the rosy accent on your plush lips, the seemingly wild look the small flowers on your hair gave you, it was a bit too much for his brain to function properly. To this day, not even a single woman had caused this sort of reaction from this man, not even the ones from the red district, a day to remember for history books, the day Haganezuka Hotaru broke.

“Haganezuka-sama? Is something wrong?” he was just there flabbergasted while holding the door knob, looked like he was in some sort of trance-like state.

“Boy are you gonna let her go in or are you gonna keep her outside all evening? A storm is coming.” the warning seemed to snap him out of the weird feeling in his stomach, moving a side to let you in and quickly closing the door behind you, keeping his father’s prying eyes at bay.

“I apologize for taking this long, I wanted to bring a gift for you, but I didn’t know how to make it, so it took a while to master it.” your quiet fit of giggles made that awkward feeling creep back into his gut, his chest tightening, could it be possible he was going to have a heart attack just now? Man, what a pathetic way of dying…

You handed him a medium sized container, carefully wrapped in a beautiful cloth.

A gasp left his lips at the sight of way too many delightful balls of gooey goodness. “You made them yourself-?”

“I did. Hopefully they will be to your liking.”

Without wasting any time he dived in for a taste of what he assumes love tasted like. He’s eaten mitarashi dangos all his life but they’ve never been this good. He heard an old lady once saying love is what makes food taste good, guess she was right.

“Are they…good…?” he just nodded pushing a couple more into his mouth, causing you to giggle. “Take it easy, they’re all yours, nobody will take them away from you.” you leaned closer, gently removing the excess sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

Nobody’s ever been this intimate with him before, what he thought was weird though was how it almost felt natural, like this was just how things should be.

The container was soon emptier than you’ve ever seen it, he even licked the remains of sauce from it, leaving it sparkly clean.

His lazy bum was laying belly up on the tatami mat, trying his best to digest the enormous amount of sweets he just had. “You know? I made that many for them to last you an entire week. They lasted what, ten minutes?” the fond look you were giving him was making his belly hurt even more.

You noticed his discomfort and moved closer to his side, one of your hands reaching over to rub his swollen belly in adoration.

“I don’t get you, woman.”

“Would you stop calling me that? I have a name…” naming things make it hard to let them go later, that’s why he avoids calling others by their actual names.

“Then, I don’t get you, (Y/N)….” hearing your name falling from his lips felt foreign yet wonderfully, it made you smile.

“What is there to understand?”

“You’re too nice for a man like me…I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

“And what is it that I want?” the suggestive tone you were using was clouding his judgement, seems like he was a man after all.

“Well I don’t know…a husband?”

You shook your head, looking into his eyes, “I never wanted a husband, my father was the one that wanted me married with a prominent house, I on the other side, just want you.”

“So you don’t want to marry me then?” the disappointment lacing his words surprised the both of you, he didn’t know when it happened but he didn’t hate you that much anymore.

“Of course I do, silly. But I don’t want to marry you just because I want a husband. I want to marry you because I like you, because I want to spend the rest of my days with you…”

“Just because I have muscles now?” that made you laugh, opting to lay beside him on the floor, still rubbing his indigestion away.

“The muscles are just a bonus, I like your grumpy self a bit too much. Even if I have to tickle you on daily basis. But look! I’ve been here for a while now and I haven’t had to do it at all.”

“I guess you’re tolerable…”

“Does that mean you like me too? I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer me in formal dressing, or-“ he stopped your babbling by holding your face up by your chin, your eyes meeting his instantly. “I prefer you like this. You look real now, not like some sort of princess.” his honesty caught you off guard, the warmth of his hand sending tingles down your body.

“Well, I like you better like this too, without that mask and head wrap…relaxed and by my side…” you chuckled, nuzzling your face against his palm.

“Even if I have just one eye now?”

“I think it suits you, it gives you this mysterious look. I always thought guys with scars were hot, they’re like battle trophies, proof of how strong they are.” your fingers were gently caressing the severed eyelid, with such a gentle touch almost freezing the man to his spot.

“So next moon…”

“Wait, wait! I thought you wanted more dates before making a decision…” panicking, you sat up, worried you had taken too long learning the new skills needed in order to satisfy him and had lost your chances.

“Why wait? The old man is driving me crazy and those dangos gave you some extra points, I don’t think I need to think this further. If I have to marry someone, might as well take a woman this dedicated and effortlessly beautiful…” his last words were all slurred together in embarrassment, making your heart run wild within your bodily cavities.

He reached for your hand pulling you back down beside him, he already missed your belly rubs and not even five minutes had passed.

Maybe getting married wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe he should start paying attention to the outside world some more, he almost missed on this without noticing at all.

And maybe, just maybe, his heart was as happy as yours to finally find its other half.

The lonely firefly in the pond finally shone its brightest the moment he found his one and only match.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Masterlist

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x female reader #hotaru haganezuka #kny haganezuka #demon slayer haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #haganezuka #fluff #kimetsu no yaiba fluff #demon slayer fluff

[internetgremlin-writes]

Flat Spin [Chapter Nine]

Summary/Prompt: 1. A spin in which an aircraft descends in tight circles whilst remaining almost horizontal 2. A state of agitation or panic [informal] As the only female driver on the grid, you’re fighting a constant need to prove yourself, however sometimes the line between accepting help and hand-outs is more blurred than you think

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,100

Warnings: Sexual references, general Chapter 8 Aftermath content

Previous chapters: ONE || TWO || THREE || FOUR || FIVE || SIX || SEVEN || EIGHT

Newton's third law is that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. 

The following hangover lasted for two days.

The next morning, you thought you were dead. Or at least you did for the thirty seconds you got to sit in that odd, floaty feeling you get when you wake up with a hangover, right up until the point where a quiet “Cariño,” brought your attention to the side of the bed where you met the soft brown of Carlos’ eyes as he waved a croissant under your nose. 

You groaned loudly as your stomach flipped and a wave of nausea crashed over you with such force you physically shuddered. 

“Get that thing away from me now,” you managed to groan against the pillow. Carlos must have managed to understand the muffled garble because the rich, buttery send drifted away.

“Good morning,”

“No,”

“What?”

“Just…” you stopped to swallow down another wave, Carlos’ peppy attitude grating on you intensely. You couldn’t finish the sentence. “‘M going to lie on the floor now,” you rolled out of bed and army-crawled into the bathroom where the cool slates were all but calling your name in the balmy morning. 

You got a whole five minutes of peace before he was grinning over you again. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, your Monaco winner,” you squinted at him and caught the lens of his camera flash as the sunlight caught the polished glass. You made a certain hand gesture in his direction that made him make a gleeful noise. 

“I think I’m dying,” You heaved yourself over the toilet bowl and felt his presence come mortifyingly closer before his hand landed warm on your back.  For the first time, it occurred to you what you were wearing - after a second of sifting through your swimming mind you realised it was a T-shirt, much bigger than anything you owned.  “It feels like my soul is being ripped from my body,”  You coughed, felt your mouth water and weakly tried to push Carlos away when you realised there was no escaping your imminent fate.

“So dramatic,”  he tutted, but his tone was softer, his touch careful and he stayed far too close for comfort as your body tried to expel whatever alcohol was remaining in your stomach.  Suddenly you were small again, fragile.  Something he could so easily break should he choose to. 

“Says the person who kept feeding me champagne,”  you moaned, the word like acid on your lips, and you felt your stomach heave again at the mention of it.

“Come on, you’re okay,”  Carlos’ encouraging hands were lost on you, he was trying to get you to stand, but the thought of standing made your head spin and you flopped back onto the floor, pushing your forehead harder against the tiles as you waited for the feeling to pass again, swallowing furiously and breathing deeply through your nose.  “Oh Cariño,”  he seemed to realise that there was no amount of enticing he could do to get you off the floor right then.  “Can I help?”  

“Please,”  you were so hungover tears were pricking your eyes.  “I just need a shower,”

You were semi-correct.  One cold shower and a bottle of electrolyte-spiked water later you’d made it downstairs to the lobby, lolling your seat in the breakfast lounge with sunglasses firmly in place.  But you were sat up, opposite Carlos, and picking at the display of bland, carby foods he’d fetched for you.

Carlos, who’d started the day annoyingly bright, seemed to have finally felt his hangover arrive.  He’d lost a bit of colour from his cheeks and had also gone from trying to wolf down the buffet he’d raided for himself, to nudging the bits of ham curling around the edge of his plate with his fork.  You’d have had more sympathy for him except for the fact that it was largely his fault you were in such a state. 

You were about to open your mouth to tell him off for complaining that he, too, wasn’t feeling so good when the other half of his bad influence dragged a chair around the table that was clearly meant for two, and down plopped Charles, fully accessorised with a large pair of Ray-Bans.

“Lando is not coming for breakfast,”  that didn’t surprise you, the younger Briton rarely drank and even he’d been roped into the chaos of last night.  “He’s not in good shape,”

“Surprised you’re here,”  you mumbled.  Charles shrugged, and made a vague gesture that said ‘me too’.  “D’you know where Seb and Mick are?”  If the group of twenty-something-year-old athletes had taken such a battering, you dreaded to think what had happened to poor Seb.

“Flew back to Switzerland earlier,”  Charles told you, swiping a pastry from your untouched plate as payment.  You took another gingival sip of the black coffee you were cradling, not even bothering to protest the blatant thievery.

“Where’s my phone?”  You patted your pockets, knowing full well your phone wouldn’t be there.  You hadn’t looked at it all morning, in fact, you weren’t even sure it had survived Jimmy’z and made it back to the hotel.  “Oh god,”  the words were small and defeated, accompanied by your head falling into your hands.  You knew that if your phone were missing, it would have to stay missing for at least another day; there was no way you could stomach going on the hunt for it in the state you were currently in. 

“Upstairs, I put it on the charger,”  Carlos didn’t even look up from his eggs, but you nudged his foot under the table and felt him respond with gentle pressure against your ankle.

“Thanks,”

Charles stood in a dreamlike fashion shortly after, hardly remembering to bid the pair of you goodbye as you watched him drift unsteadily back to the elevators.  The rest of the morning was spent back in your room.  The Champagne remainders were untouched, but Carlos made a good effort at finishing off the French treats that came with the celebratory hamper as you curled against him, your eyes unfocused on the mindless, trashy TV you were both pretending to watch.

The afternoon followed with an hour of lazy head, Carlos so settled between your thighs you’d thought he’d fallen asleep there.  You came quietly against his mouth, rocking your hips to match his languid pace, your fingers tightening in his hair.  The endorphin rush that spread through your body, too, was slow.  It gently made its way through your nervous system, clearing your head and healing you so blissfully that you barely noticed him kissing his way back up your stomach until you were cuddled against his chest.  Carlos held you tightly as you slept off the last of the hangover together.

“I hate this bit,”  his calf-like eyes were focused on you again.  He had that devastatingly handsome look on his face, the one he had in interviews when he’d just missed out on a pole, or a podium, or a few hundredths of a second to Charles.

“It’s just over a week,”  You promised.  He shrugged.

“Always feels like longer these days,”  You felt yourself melt against him at his words.  The advantage to Carlos’ private jet sponsorship was the equally private lounge access he got before his flight; at least this time you could say a proper goodbye.  You pecked his lips for what felt like the thousandth time that day.  You wanted to tell yourself it was just the hangover and the adrenaline crash that was making you feel clingy, but you knew deep down something had changed.  You just weren’t sure what - or how - just yet.

At least it was a night flight home.  You slept from the moment you found your seat until you were set to land, and that was only because a steward gently touched your shoulder and informed you so.  Your dad picked you up at the airport and you slept once more, the whole car journey home.  You were way too big for him to do so, but somehow you remembered briefly waking up to the feeling of him lifting you out of the car and placing you into bed.  For a moment you were the eight-year-old girl who’d won her first-ever karting race, a gruelling, wet affair that had taken everything out of your tiny body and that night too you’d slept all the way home and right through your dad carrying you to bed.  You’d clutched that trophy so hard you woke up the next morning with it still in your hand.

This time around there wasn’t a trophy in your hand the next morning.  There was the dull ache of the final stages of recovery headache and an equally dull, gnawing hunger that seemed to be coming from somewhere much deeper than your stomach.

*****

“Finally,”  was the first word to pass Andrea’s lips as you made your way downstairs for breakfast.  You weren’t sure if she was referencing the monumental lie-in you’d had or the fact that you’d cancelled the celebratory brunch you were supposed to have yesterday morning before their flight home.  You figured she meant both.

“I told you not to expect her yesterday,”  Your dad sent you a wry smile from across the breakfast table and slid you a mimosa.  Your stomach twisted, but it was weak and you wanted to make it up to your mum for standing them up yesterday.  She’d had a busy morning; a spread filled with pancakes, waffles, even french toast, with a whole tray of bacon, eggs and sausages.

“Bloody hell mum, were you expecting The Queen?”  You joked at the sheer volume of food, not that you were complaining as your dad piled your plate high, the day of barely eating finally catching up to you.

“Just my little champion,”  You smiled appreciatively, not even bothering to correct her terminology.  A single win wasn’t a championship, but this one sure as hell felt like it.  Either way, you weren’t going to complain when you had a “sim and gym” day with Katie and were going to need all the energy you could muster to survive that.  The other downside to having a rugby player as your coach, she got some kind of sick kick out of forcing you to do the most gruelling workouts on the days when you needed it the least.

Fortunately, your parents lived within an hour from Silverstone, so you took advantage of the slow lunch before getting changed into your team colours and packing your laptop and a gym bag for later.  The green seemed to shine a little brighter that morning.  You couldn’t help but admire the way your new Ray Bans seemed to complement your polo perfectly.

You hadn’t expected an honour guard, but the welcome you got when you walked into the Aston Martin headquarters was oddly quiet.  The receptionist barely lifted her head as you scanned in, and you made it all the way to your office completely unbothered, which, you thought, must have been the first time that had ever happened to you.

You popped one of those little pods into your coffee machine and contemplated snapping a picture to send to Carlos.  The man was a borderline coffee snob and with Ferrari being so deeply Italian, they seemed to have professional barristers on every corner endorsing the habit.  He’d scoff at whatever you had in your hand whenever you saw each other in the paddock and you knew his reaction would be the same towards your little coffee machine.  Could you really complain though, given how many of their exquisite drinks you’d had for free in the last few weeks?

Your thought process was interrupted by a knock on the door.  A young man in a polo shirt that was at least two sizes too big and a name badge pinned on an angle you had to tilt your head to read was hovering in the door.  You could tell by the blue of the badge that he was an intern.

“Hi,”  you volunteered it became apparent he wasn’t going to offer words.

“Oh, um, hi,”  

“What’s up? Did Katie send you?”  You could see the poor boy physically wracking his brains trying to remember if he’d met a Katie yet.

“Uhm, no I can’t remember her name - sorry - but, there’s a- like a meeting, soon?”  He paused to check his watch  “In twenty minutes.  Whole team in the… the big conference room,”

Why they had sent an intern to tell you rather than Katie, or even an email, was lost on you.  

“Thanks,”  The intern moved as if he was going to rock back on his heels to leave, and then changed his mind, swaying forwards again.

“Congrats on Monaco, by the way!”  He almost shouted, making you flinch a little and the champagne-induced throb in your head threatened to return for a moment.  “My little sister - she loves you.  And - I mean I do too - not like that!  But you’re really cool,”

He’d gone an impressive shade of pink, but the sentiment warmed your heart.

“That’s very sweet of you guys!  Hang on,”  you leaned over and grabbed a sticky note from your desk.  “What’s your name?  And your cubicle number?”  He hastily told you his name was Luke, and gave you the location of his desk in the intern pen.

“Cool, thank you.  I’ll get something for your sister sent over there,”  He nodded and retreated in a rush of thank yous.  There were always boxes of merch in your office, so it didn’t take you a minute to put together a little gift bag with a couple of your driver cards, a mini helmet model and a couple of caps, all signed for Luke and his sister along with a few other Aston Martin branded bits you had lying around.  You stuck the note with Luke’s number on the top of the bag, grabbed your coffee and made your way out.

The intern pen was on the way to the meeting rooms, so you slipped the bag under his desk on your way down, thankful that the rest of the interns also seemed to be out running errands. You’d been caught before in there and when one intern gets a sniff of their hero, you tended to get stuck in a mob it would take you at least an hour to extract yourself from.

The sheer size of the big conference room always surprised you.  Four long tables made a square, with projectors on all four sides of the room and space for a speaker to stand at one end with a platform and a microphone.  You very rarely had to go in here, meetings involving you were usually smaller affairs, or they were much larger and much more informal whole-team briefings. 

You were one of the first to arrive, despite the fact that the meeting was due to start in two minutes.  Fortunately, Seb was already there and almost instinctively you found yourself sliding into the empty seat beside him.  Despite your mother’s incredible brunch spread that morning, you still found yourself a little disappointed that there wasn’t a snack in sight.

“Do you know what this is all about?”  You whispered to Seb, the room so imposing you felt like a child in a school assembly hall, unable to raise your voice despite several other conversations happening around you.  A steady trickle of people were making their way in, several of whom you didn’t recognise, others you were more familiar with.  Your whole pit wall team was present, as well as Katie and Britta, John the social media admin and even Mike, who sat close to the podium with the microphone.

Seb shook his head, curls following the movement with a gentle bounce of defeat.  You made a non-commital noise of acceptance.  “How was yesterday?”  The question was accompanied by an elbow in your side and eyes shining with mischief.

“How was yours?”  You instantly reflected the question, but Seb stopped you with a clear look of ‘I asked you first’.  “It was rough,”  you admitted, trying hard not to recall the gory details of the morning in Monaco, but even so there was a small, proud smile fighting to make its way onto your face.

“I nearly missed my flight,”  He admitted with a wry smile.  You wanted to push for more details, but something Charles had said at the hotel breakfast distracted you.

“Wait, you went back to Switzerland - how are you here?”

“Supposed to still be there,”  he sent a look in the direction of Mike that screamed Red Bull sulk for a second, eyebrows drawn in and an impressive pout.  “I was only told about this last night.  I had to fly in this morning,” 

You were about to press further when Mike stood up and cleared his throat, effectively commanding the full attention of the whole room.  Silence fell so suddenly it was as if a mute button had been pressed.

“Right, well thank you all for coming.  I think we all know why we’re here,”  You did not like the pointed look he sent in the direction of you and Sebastian, especially considering you very much did not know why you were there.  You sent a desperate look towards Katie, hating the feeling of being caught out.  She wouldn’t meet your eyes.  

“First of all, congratulations where it’s due.  First and third for the team is an outstanding effort,”  there was a round of rather stilted applause, you and Seb standing out as you both launched into much more enthusiastic clapping, which you quickly ceased.  Mike was fiddling with the projector.  You took the opportunity to lean towards Seb.

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to be positive?”

“Y/N, where do you want to start?”  Mike’s direct address snapped your attention right back to the front. 

“Um…”  Under his steely gaze, you had nothing to say.

“Let’s give you some options, how about that?”  The tone of his voice made it clear that that was not a question he was waiting for you to answer.  “How about assaulting a marshall?  Or marching into the Haas garage?  Acting as if you’re the only one in charge of the decision-making? Breaking into the Red Bull hospitality!?  Or perhaps your concerning relationships with other drivers? To name a few,”

Oh.

“‘Oh’ indeed,”  

“Sorry-”  Sebastian interrupted, the attention of the room immediately gravitating towards him. 

“You’re not innocent either, Vettel,”  Mike’s tone was icy as he spat the German’s surname.  You felt Seb shift beside you and knew immediately that he was switching from the gentle, bee-loving neo-hippie mentor back into the petulant driver who rose to world-dominating fame.  A fantastic scowl graced his features, clearly offended at being interrupted in such a manner.  

“What assault?”  The ‘W’ came out like a ‘V’ when he was cross.

“We’ll start there, then,”  Mike snapped.  He threw a letter down and watched it slide along the elongated desk to where you stopped it.  You didn’t need to open it because there was a copy of the contents being projected on all four sides of the room.  An official FIA statement.

A fine of 20,000 euros is to be paid by the driver of car number 15 (Y/N Y/L/N) alongside a requested formal apology for the physical assault of a pit lane marshal during the second red flag event of the 2022 Formula One Monaco Grand Prix.  The driver of car number 15 (Y/N Y/L/N) shall receive 1 point on their Superlicence for unsportsmanlike behaviour.

It wasn’t the money that felt like you’d just been kicked in the chest.  

“Unsportsmanlike?”  Your voice was smaller than you would have liked.  “But I didn’t assault him,”  you sounded like a child, and it was clear in Mike’s expression he wasn’t interested in your side of the argument.  

“What did you do then, Y/N?”

“I-” You took a nervous sip of coffee.  This was going to be a long meeting and you were not going to cry at the first accusation.  “I was running to the Haas garage to find out about Mick.  He grabbed me and stopped me,”

“And then what?”

“I…wriggled,”  it sounded ridiculous when you said it out loud.

“So you got into a physical altercation with a pit lane marshall?” 

“I didn’t hit him or anything!  I just got away from him,” 

“Y/N, I don’t want to hear it.”  You knew better than to argue back.  “Which brings me to my next point.” The image changed slightly, and two more letters were sent down the desk.

A fine of 5,000 euros each is to be paid by the driver of car number 5 (Sebastian Vettel) and the driver of car number 15 (Y/N Y/L/N) for the illegal entry into a competitive garage (HAAS Formula One Team) during racing hours in the second red flag event of the 2022 Formula One Monaco Grand Prix.

“Oh come on!”  Sebastian spoke from beside you where he was reading his copy of the statement.

Mike was staring right at the two of you with an exasperated fury that made you want to disappear.  You weren’t one for getting in trouble at school, but you could easily imagine this was the way teachers looked at naughty children.  It didn’t sit well in your chest.

“Sebastian, you illegally entered their garage!  Please argue that,”

“It was very clear we were both only there for the concern of our friend,”  Seb spat the word at Mike like it was venomous.  “Y/N couldn’t tell you a single detail of that garage, she was in a state,”

That was true, the only memory you had of the Haas garage was the stony-faced man in the white shirt who told you Mick was alive and the feeling of the world splitting apart beneath your feet. 

“And you want the FIA to believe that?”  Mike ran a hand through his short, grey hair and for the first time, you noticed the bags under his eyes.  You wondered how long he’d known he was going to have to handle this.

“Sportsmanlike behaviour?”  Sebastian scoffed.  “Clearly not,”

Mike had had enough of the conversation.

“You’re not to argue the fines,”  he sent a pointed look in Seb’s direction.  “You’re both to pay in full out of your personal accounts, you’re both to write formal apologies.  And you’re never going to display such immature, unprofessional behaviour again.  This goes against everything we stand for as a team and you’re both going to make a very public rectification, understood?”

You nodded, your focus suddenly extremely limited to the square of the desk in front of you, unable to look up and meet the eyes of anyone in the room.  Your face was burning, your vision was swimming and you knew you had never been so embarrassed in your life.  You could feel Sebastian beside you, almost quivering with rage and his hands balled into tight fists in the periphery of your vision.  Unlike you, his whole body was tense, on high alert and ready to fight.

“You’re also extremely lucky that Christian is a very reasonable man and isn’t pressing charges for your little stunt in the Red Bull swimming pool.  How stupid could you possibly be thinking that was a good idea?”  You sank further into your seat, what had appeared nothing more than a hilarious prank at the time suddenly was thrown into harsh, bleak contrast as you realised just how dangerous your idea had been.  Although it had been your idea, John was rounded on for his turn of telling off.  You didn’t even feel like the pressure had been taken away from you, as you watched the beloved members of your team that you had slowly grown closer and closer to being reprimanded on your behalf.  The guilt was eating you alive.

“A team apology has already been issued to Red Bull.  I don’t want to hear another word about this now-”  Mike interrupted at least three of you who had spoken up over the stunt at once.  “John, you stick to your team’s ideas only from now on and Y/N and Sebastian - you’ll be having separate PR briefings because you know Drive to Survive will be all over this,”  Mike paused to rub his temples.

A break was suggested, and half the room stood to go and locate coffee.  Mike took two paracetamol and you couldn’t help but think he had the right idea, however, you felt like you were glued to your seat.  Katie was still refusing to meet your gaze and with Seb and Britta murmuring over an iPad in rapid-fire German, you suddenly felt very small and very alone.  You were almost willing for Mike to hurry up and continue the onslaught because at least it gave you something to focus on.

After the break, you moved on from fines to receiving a very public lecture about your attitude towards tyres.  Apparently arguing with your strategist over broadcasted radio is not something well endorsed by Aston Martin, regardless of who’s opinion was right. 

“You have one job, Y/N,”  Mike snapped.  “Just the one!  Drive the fucking car.  The idea of it being a team sport is that we sort the rest,”

That was enough to tip you from embarrassment to anger.

“I drove that ‘fucking car’ to first place!  And had you boxed me to inters I would have driven that fucking car right into a fucking wall.  I argued because I was right,”

“You weren’t right, you were lucky!”  

“I’m the driver, if anyone knows the tyres it’s me,”

“You’re barely out of your rookie season.  You respect the strategy we give you,”

“Not when it’s wrong!  I listened to you in Imola and-”

“Enough!  Y/N that is enough!”  Mike was red in the face, and his hands slammed down right in front of you so that he was towering over your seated frame as he shouted.  “Maybe your friends at Ferrari can call their shots but you are not contracted for your opinion and we do not want to hear it.  Need I remind you Lawrence’s son is waiting for your seat,”

“How dare you talk to her like that,”  Sebastian’s voice was so controlled it screamed danger.

“Be quiet, Sebastian,”  Britta’s hand landed on his arm.  Seb dropped whatever he was about to say, but it couldn’t break the intense stare you were stuck in with Mike himself.

“And as if that wasn’t enough damage-” 

Mike stepped away from you, clicking on a few slides further where a collection of images made your stomach sink.

“Schumacher is young, he’s popular and he’s already formed a close alliance with Sebastian.  We chose to ignore whatever your relationship with him may be.  Your personal life should be none of our business,”

You knew what was coming next.  One of the pictures on the screen was of you wrapping your entire body around Mick right as he’d stepped out of the safety car, his head buried in your neck and Sebastian closing in on you.  The second image was taken shortly after; you were gripping each other’s forearms with your heads pressed together.  To an outsider who didn’t know the depth of your bond, it was obviously intimate.  The third photo was at the end of the race when you’d jumped into Carlos’ arms and he’d held your legs.  You hadn’t noticed at the time but here, caught in HD, the way his fingers splayed across your bum was not friendly, nor was the way he was looking at you in total awe.  The quality of the final photo dropped off significantly, but the evidence was so much worse. 

A grainy picture that was taken in the dark of Jimmy’z.  Carlos’ hips pressed so close to yours there wasn’t a spec of space, his hand in your hair and the other on your hip, pulling you impossibly closer. His nose was at the juncture of your neck and lips millimetres from your skin.  You were no better, eyes closed and lips parted in clear bliss, a hand gripping his bicep for dear life and the other fisted in the front of his shirt, clearly encouraging him into you.  

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,”  Katie’s voice was quiet enough that few people would have heard her.  The disappointment in her tone echoed in the pang in your chest.

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“Shut up, Y/N,”  Mike snapped.  “You have done enough for a lifetime in less than 24 hours.  I don’t want to hear another word from you,”

“But I’m not dating Mick, it’s not-”

“ENOUGH!  The adults are talking now,”  

That stung.  The tears that had been intermittently welling in your eyes finally spilt over as you swallowed the lump in your throat.  You made an exaggerated gesture of running both hands across your face in frustration to remove the evidence, although you knew it was obvious he’d finally made you cry, and in front of the whole team no less. 

The PR team were suddenly speaking up, discussing how much they’d offered the magazine companies that had hold of the paparazzi photos to keep their silence.  Mike had sat down and for the first time, there was an efficient, business-like feel to the meeting rather than a public humiliation.

Within the next half an hour several cover-up stories had been prepared and were ready to be released if - and when - the rumours started.  You weren’t consulted on a single one, despite it being your personal life under the microscope.  Katie was the only person sticking up for you, and you had a strong sense that you were not going to be received well if you tried to offer anything.  You didn’t understand the full scope of what the PR team were suggesting, too many business-like words and complicated, contractual terms for simple things that you were simply too overwhelmed to be handling right then.  From what you understood they’d be saying you’d broken up with Mick and Carlos was nothing more than a drunk moment.

Agreements were starting to be murmured and there was a restlessness you could feel spreading amongst the whole meeting.  Mike announced the dismissal and people were nodding and iPads were being packed away.  You didn’t dare move.  Seb was the second person out of the door, his expression nothing short of stormy.

Mike spotted that you were still rooted to your seat amongst the steadily growing flow of people leaving.

“I want your apology done and published tomorrow.  Pay the second the FIA contact you.  Keep your head down, you do nothing between now and Baku but train and I swear to god Y/N, you pull another stunt like this again and you’re out, I don’t care how talented you are,”  

You held Mike’s gaze, something childish in you refusing to acknowledge him further than a swift nod.  You tried not to look too much like you were scampering out of the meeting room with your tail between your legs, but you knew it was obvious.

Sebastian was in your office.

“Looking for these?”  He held up your car keys, which were exactly what you were looking for.  There was nothing in the world that could stop you from immediately getting out of the Silverstone complex as quickly as possible.  You nodded, fully aware that your chin was wobbling as you fought off a fresh wave of tears. 

“Good.  Come on,”

He marched ahead of you through the building, out into the car park and unlocked your car, opening the passenger door for you with an expectant look.  He didn’t say a word as he climbed into the driver’s seat, and pulled out of the complex with impressive speed.

“Cry now,”  He said.  You didn’t need much encouragement. 

He drove in silence for ten minutes, whilst you tried to cry as quietly as you could.  There was something big building in your chest and it was hurting the more you tried to control yourself.  Seb pulled off the main road into a leafy, sheltered run-off that was totally uninhabited.  He parked, rounded back over to your side and without a single word pulled you up and into his arms.

He held you tight and allowed you to finally let out the broken sob that sent you spiralling into a full-blown panic attack. 

“Sorry-”  you choked out but Seb immediately cut you off with a firm ‘no’.  He didn’t try and talk you through it or get you to stop, instead letting you work your way through the way your body was attempting to rip itself in two until you somehow found your own breathing rhythm and your chest stopped squeezing and the sobs settled to a gentle stream of tears.  He just held you, firm and fast against his chest and let you figure it all out yourself. 

“You need to cry,”  He told you when you tried to apologise again,  the both of you now sat on the floor in the late May sunshine.  “You’ll feel better.  But not in there,”

“Oh my god, Seb-”  the wave of dread that had temporarily pulled back crashed over you once more, and you immediately curled towards your senior, his arm opening and pulling you into his shoulder as if it was second nature.

“I know,”

“My career is over,”  you moaned, a fresh stab of pain shooting through you.  “Lance has been waiting for me to fuck up for years,”

“They are not going to sack the winner of Monaco,”

“But-” 

“Look,”  Seb handed you a stack of papers you hadn’t noticed he was carrying.

“What is this?”  

“I printed them off last night.  I thought we might need them,”  Each sheet was a photocopy of a news article, each about a scandal involving an F1 driver.  Seb himself and the Multi-21 incident was on the first page, there were several other on-track episodes, but what mattered most to you at that moment was the list of after-party allegations.  From wild parties to sex scandals, the list of drivers with gossip surrounding them was ridiculous.  Seb plucked the bottom paper from your hands.  It was several screenshots of ‘news’ from Monaco two nights ago.  Lewis in the club bathrooms, Checo allegedly cheating on his wife, Lando had been caught kissing that girl he was talking about, Charles had a very public fight with Charlotte, and Mick had been seen walking a girl home. 

“Scandals are part of the job,”  was all he said.  “How many of these do you remember, Y/N?”  You flicked through the pages again.

“Maybe three?” 

“Exactly my point.  It all dies the second they see something more interesting to talk about,”

“But it’s different, they already don’t take me seriously because I’m a girl, and now they all think I’m fucking half the grid and have evidence,”  The image from the club flashed across your mind again.  You had a feeling Mike had only put up a select sampling.

“I know,”  Seb pondered  “I don’t have the answers for that one,”

“Thank you,”  you hoped he knew how much you meant it.  “I think you’re the only person who can make this feel like it isn’t the end of the world,”

“Do you know how many times Christian told me off in front of the whole team?”

“No?”

“Enough that I just used to laugh when he tried,”  You gave a wet giggle at that.  “Do you want to go to McDonald’s?” 

“I always want to go to Maccies,”  you agreed, allowing Seb to once again drive as you pulled out of the quiet spot and rejoined the main road to find the nearest food source.

“One day, we will laugh about this,”  He handed you the prized milkshake from the drive-thru window.

“I can’t believe he actually called me a diva over tyres,”  Seb managed to grin around his veggie burger. 

“Yes.  But you need to know, Y/N, the way he spoke to you was completely unacceptable,”

A few of Mike’s choicer phrases bounced around your head. 

“No jokes about that, okay?  I’m going to do something - or say something - I don’t know what yet,”

“You don’t have to,”

“I’m your mentor.  And you’re my friend.  I’m not letting anyone talk to you like that and get away with it, do you understand me?” 

“Yes, but shouldn’t I say something?  Feminism and sticking up for myself and all that?”

“I think experience is more important here.  And keeping you out of any more trouble,”

“Thanks, Grandpa,”  

“Hey, enough of that!” he nudged your elbow, and the pair of you dissolved into emotionally drained giggles over your shitty burgers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liked this? Check out more of my work here: MASTERLIST

Helloo, long time no see!

As per standard Iggy behaviour, I vanished for a few months but I'm back! Uni is finished, I can finally breathe and I have three months until I start my job in which priority #1 is finish Flat Spin so I hope you're all ready for an onslaught of writing >:)

I've missed being here so much and I'm so excited to pick up this story again. Hopefully, we can all remember the 2022 season lol. As always, this is a work of fiction based on real life but nothing more. I'm sure Mike is actually a lovely person and a great team principal, I just needed him to be like this for The Plot! (also can we talk about Aston Martin this season? Suddenly I'm not feeling like this fic is totally delusional hehe)

Anyway, so happy to be back. So excited for the next few months!

Lots and lots of love, Iggy

Taglist: @imreallylosingit @serialkillertbh @sticksdoesart @piceous21 @whosays75 @xscorpioxmoon @j-brielmalfoy @22yuki @teapartydreams @guccicloudz @valkyrie418 @nochillnel

@ruledchaos @isabellabrodar @ccloaned  @ihearttheoriginals @ferrarifwendvale @bradfordbantams @bobohumyonlyboo @zoobabystation @formulacads @f1-incorrect-s @alicekepley @thembeforethea

(taglist is too big for one post so 2nd half are tagged with a link post don't panic!)

#flat spin #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr #sebastian vettel #mick schumacher #aston martin #fanfic #fanfiction

[crissiebaby]

Sissy's First Date: Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: This POV story contains diaper usage, forced crossdressing, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Anon

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Ahhhhhh! That hit the spot,” I said as I leaned back while hooking my feet around the wooden picnic table’s support beam to keep from falling backward. Rubbing my tummy, I savored the aftertaste of the cheeseburger and fry combo I had eaten. It was far from the best burger I’d ever eaten but just about anything would’ve tasted like heaven with Becca at my side. 

Watching me finish my food like a hawk, Becca waited for me to lean forward in my seat again before reaching toward me with a napkin and gently wiping the crumbs away from my mouth “You did a great job following my instructions to eat delicately. I should only have to touch up your lips. Well done, Cherry-baby” she said, remarking on the minimal damage to the diligent work she had done painting my face. Her complement caused me to retreat into my shell like a turtle as I shrunk down and hid myself behind my shaky hands without letting them touch my face, unable to suppress my unadulterated happiness. I could listen to her dote on me for hours.

*Peck!*

Suddenly, something warm, wet, and gentle grazed the side of my face. My mind skipped the tracks as my hand cupped my burning cheek, the remnants of Becca’s lipstick mark dusting my fingertips with a dash of red.

“Hey now, no touching. Remember?” said Becca, flicking the back of my hand and nudging it away from my face, “Besides, I want everyone to know exactly who you belong to.” It was clear she expected me to wear the imprint of her lips on my skin for the remainder of our date; an embarrassing display that had me feeling unquestionably giddy.

Standing up from the picnic table, Becca quickly circled until she was stationed behind me, offering me no time to climb out of my seat as well. This was intentional as a pair of loving arms soon draped across my chest and began playing with the bow sown to the chest of my dress. “Hmmm...I don’t know about you but I’m still a bit peckish. How about we stop for some dessert before our next ride? Doesn’t that sound fun?” she cooed, beckoning me to follow her like an obedient pet.

Nodding my head, my voice cracked as I muttered, “That- *cough* That sounds nice.” I winced as an immediate cackle succeeded my fatal squeak, further burying me in blushiness.

Becca’s laughter would come to an abrupt end, though, as an unfortunate sight graced her line of sight. She lowered her head and ducked down, prompting me to do the same. “Shit, what the fuck are they…Ugh! Nevermind. We need to get out of here,” she said, her mood starkly shifting from romantic and bright to serious and distressed.

“Wait, what? What’s going on?” I said, naively stretching my neck upward as I looked in the same direction Becca had.

Grabbing the collar of my shirt, Becca attempted to tug me downward, whispering loudly, “Nonono! Cherry, get down!”

Unfortunately, it was too late for that. It was only a split-second but a split-second was all that was needed as I noticed a distinct pair of eyes with the same colored irises as mine. “A-Abby,” I muttered, spotting my sister at the exact same moment that she spotted me. A cruel smile formed as she pointed in my general direction.

Why the hell was Abby here?! We were two towns away from where we lived. Moreover, she hated county fairs, giving her less than zero reason to be in the same place Becca and I were. I wanted to run as fast as my legs could carry me. It was bad enough to be femmed up at their hands. To have them catch me voluntarily dressing this way was a death sentence. But my jelly legs refused to move, locking me in place as my sister waded through the busy crowd with her usual posse of Kiah and Sarah at her side. “B-Becca, can you help me-…Becca?” I said, angling my head backward, only to notice that my date had seemingly vanished, leaving me all alone at the picnic table in my sissy dress and diapers.

“Well, well, well! What are the odds we’d run into my little brother while we’re here,” said Abby, refusing to acknowledge me as her equal twin while I was dressed the way I was, “Though, I’m not sure I should be using a manly term like “brother” so loosely.”

I could feel my soul actively dying with each snicker that came out of my sister's mouth. Any happiness I had attained from my date had been fully erased. In a last-ditch effort to spare myself further humiliation, I tried to get up from my seat so I could make a break for it. Sadly, I wouldn’t even get through step one of my makeshift plan as Kiah’s heavy hand planted itself on my shoulder, keeping me locked in place. It was a harsh dichotomy from the way Becca had stood over me only a moment before.

Scooching in next to me with her phone in hand, Sarah wrapped an abrasive arm around my satin-covered waist as she displayed a picture of me waiting in line for the Ferris Wheel with a diaper poking out from under the skirt ever so slightly. “I almost didn’t believe it when I saw you. I’ve never been so happy that my mom made me come home from college this weekend,” she said, squeezing me and forcing me to endure another round of high-pitched giggling, “Who’s your little friend, by the way? I never got a good look at who your diapee buddy was.”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna know,” said Abby, plopping herself down in front of Becca’s tray and putting up her feet on my thighs, “Like what, did you candy ass start scrolling through Grindr the second we freed you until you found a fellow sissy loser? You know, you weren’t supposed to enjoy what we did to you.”

Listening to Abby and Sarah’s dialogue, it became obvious why Becca fled from the scene at lightning speed. They had no idea what secrets their peppy bombshell of a friend was harboring. Perhaps I could use this to my advantage. Outing Becca as my date did had the potential to move the target off of my back and onto hers. And it wasn’t like she had any problem with ditching me to save herself.

However, as I looked down at the candid photo of Becca and myself waiting for our turn on the Ferris Wheel, my mind leaped back to the amazing time we’d had together up to this point. Becca didn’t have to make herself vulnerable to me but she did. Regardless of her present cowardice, that was something I refused to let my sister take away from me. “Well…I did enjoy it,” I said, putting on as confident of a face as I could muster, “S-So what?”

Staring up at each other in disbelief, none of the three girls were exactly sure how to respond. It was only when Abby forced out a laugh that other girls started chortling alongside her. Steeling my composure to the best of my ability, I closed my eyes, drowned out their voices, and let the stain of Becca’s kiss continue to burn on my cheek; its warmth strengthening my resolve.

“Haha! You trying to act tough when dressed like this is so adorable,” said Abby in between cackling, turning up the dial on her viciousness in an attempt to get me to break, “I can’t wait to get home. The four of us are going to have a blast burning all your old, icky boy clothes. A pansy like you clearly doesn’t need them anymore. Just wait until Dad finds ou-”

“HEY!”

In an instant, the noisy, bustling fairgrounds went quiet, as did the mockery of my sister and her friends. My eyes shot open, allowing me to witness Becca’s spectacular return. Marching up to our table, she physically shoved Sarah and Kiah away from me, freeing me from their shackle-like grip. She didn’t dare make eye contact with the others as she pulled me out of my seat and into her arms. “Sorry, I was gone for so long, sweetie,” she said, pretending as though the world around us didn’t exist as she straightened out my skirt before threading her fingers through mine and escorting me away from the table, “C’mon, we’ll get your lipstick fixed up while we wait in line for the next ride.”

Glancing back at the picnic table shrinking in the distance, I relished the stunned silence that Becca left my sister and her friends in. The look on Abby’s face specifically was priceless. Part of me wished I could stay a few moments longer so as to record every inch of my sister’s priceless expression to memory. Unsurprisingly, that small part stood no chance against the warpath Becca was forging as she rushed us away from the food vendors, her eyes locked forward. I could only guess at the number of troubling things swirling around in her mind.

Eventually, we stopped at the tail end of a nearly empty line for a dark ride auspiciously named, The Tunnel of Love. I could only guess that Becca wanted to get out of sight as soon as possible. Tragically, the emotions that Becca and I were stuck processing were anything but lovey-dovey feelings. “Hey…are you okay?” I asked, catching my breath after speed-walking across half the fairground, “I totally get it if you wanna call it after that.”

“No!” shouted Becca instinctively, forcefully clearing her throat afterward in an attempt to cover up her panicked refusal, “No, I’m okay. I promise. I want the date to keep going…unless, of course, you’re ready for it to end.”

Shaking my head vehemently, I wasn’t ready for this day to end by a long shot. “Nuh-uh, I really don’t want this to end. This…this is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” I said earnestly, my cheeks filling with a different kind of blush; the romantic kind.

Becca’s face took on a similar hue, allowing her to flash a smile for the first time since the incident. “Me too. I love getting to spend time with you like this. It’s not really something I’ve ever gotten to do before,” she said, her feet squirming in place thanks to the rawness of her sentiment, “Promise you won’t get upset but…there’s something I wasn’t completely honest about.”

The deepening of Becca’s voice told me everything that I needed to know. Whatever she was about to tell me was something of incredible importance, maybe even something she’d never admitted to anyone else. I nodded to her again and listened closely.

“I lied to you when I said that…the diapers I made you wear were an ex-boyfriend’s,” said Becca, unable to face me as her watering eyes traced the cracks in the cement, “It was just such an exciting opportunity. That stunt you pulled at your sister’s sleepover? I’d read countless stories with scenarios just like it. So…I decided to take advantage of that, and I had to lie to everyone, including you, to pull it off. I’m sorry. I know you must hate me now for getting you tangled up in my kink so I’ll understand if-”

*Peck!*

Ceasing my chance to return the affection Becca had bestowed upon me earlier, I leaned in while she was mid-sentence and placed a kiss on her cheek, leaving the same mark behind that she had. “Just letting everyone know who you belong to, right?” I said brashly, my heart and lungs imploding simultaneously in a display of shameless romanticism.

Much like I had done, Becca’s hand rose to meet the kissy mark left behind on her face. Unlike me, though, she needed no one to instruct her to keep from wiping it off. I could feel myself growing stiff as we gazed at each other, aroused purely by the love I was feeling. Well, love and the softness of my soaking wet diaper.

Wrapping her arms around me, Becca and I cozied up to each other. Our next stop: The Tunnel of Love. I couldn’t imagine a more fitting destination.

TO BE CONTINUED…

« PREVIOUS l FIRST l NEXT »

-------------------------------------------------------------

SubscribeStar: subscribestar.adult/crissiebaby pixivFANBOX: crissiebaby.fanbox.cc All CB Links: linktr.ee/crissiebaby

Edited by AllySmolShork

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlossomBitchDolly BlushyBen DD Exminister Gun1242 JFN LittlePissy PrincessKittenLizzi Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor

#ab/dl #ab/dl art #ab/dl stories #ab/dl girl #crissiebaby #diaper art #diaper stories #diaper humiliation #dirty diaper #diaper messy #wetting diaper #md/lb #ab/dl sissy #sissybaby #diaper sissy #sissy story #humiliation sissy

[azk-gnarpy]

COUGHS LOUDLY IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION AS I PRESENT…………. GNEEP!!!!(directed to the creator of this blog but Gnarpy can answer too!!)

I DIDNT MAKE GNEEP🙏🙏BUT I MUST SHOW XER TO THE WOORRLDD

[OH MU GOD I LOVE GNEEP…]

#gnarpy #regretevator gnarpy #ask gnarpy #regretevator #ask blog #gnarpy regretevator #ooc post

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The sign says “Closed” Part 1

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)      

Chips clattered down and Nez tore her gaze away from her cards to look at Globin.

“Raise” he said, the words slurring from his fat lips as if they were bubbling up from the depths of a sludge pit. He coughed loudly and spat something out the size of a small frompel into a can under his side of the table. Nez shivered in disgust and glanced back at her own cards to stop herself from vomiting.

She never liked inviting the Vlapion to the backroom card nights at her pub the “Shinning Carron”, but he had money and was usually an easy mark to make an extra cycle’s wages off of. She also knew that he kept coming back despite losing so much because he was hoping to eventually win enough to drive her into bankruptcy and force some sort of “physical” encounter with her to make the money back.

“I too shall…” a new voice cut in and then stopped.

Nez looked to Globin’s left to see HZ-535, a Mechanizt, pushing its chips forward and backwards. HZ was one of the few non-organics she could tolerate. It never said why it had a personality but Nez figured it must have developed one by itself after it was left stranded on a class VI planet for several years. That, or it had a few wires crossed; she could never tell.

HZ wore a black robe hiding most of its features leaving only a smooth polished dome for a face with two blinking red lights for eyes. The eyes kept blinking back and forth as one of its hands continued shuffling the chips, another tapping the table rhythmically, and another stacking and shuffling their hand with such skill it’d make a casino dealer jealous.

HZ continued blinking until Globin brought his thick hand up and smacked the back of HZ’s head.

“Raise!” HZ announced loudly and threw even more chips into the pile.

Globin spat again before looking back at his cards. Nez had to admit that while she despised the Vlapion she was impressed with his boldness. She had witnessed on more than occasion when someone else had made physical contact with HZ only to have their arms removed from their body. In rarer cases depending on how offended HZ had been he would even go further and proceed to beat them with their former limbs as they bled out on the floor. For whatever reason HZ only tolerated when Globin smacked him; to which neither had since explained why.

With that Nez turned to the final member of their little poker game who was looking less than pleased, Markus. He was another human like herself, worked down at a nearby mine as a technician and had been a personal friend of hers since she opened the bar. He was gruff around the edges and she was convinced he believed soap was for other people since every time she saw him he looked like he had just rolled around in dirt for an hour.

“Fold.” Markus said dryly; tossing his cards into the pot and taking a swig of their waiting drink.

HZ’s eyes tore themselves from the cards and looked at the man. ‘Why do you fold so frequently? Is this a common trait amongst humans?”

“I don’t fold that often.” He replied as he eyed up the robot. HZ was unconvinced as he continued “Your predictions of folding during a fresh hand are sitting at 73%, with a further 35% chance of you making an obscene hand gesture in my general direction.” No sooner had HZ finished was Markus already confirming his prediction with a vivid hand gesture.

Nez was stacking her chips in thought about if she would match or raise HZ’s wager when a loud banging sound came from the front of the bar.

Everyone in the group turned at the sound with Globin and Markus looking at each other. HZ turned to Nez and asked “Are we expecting more players?” Nez shook her head as another round of banging could be heard.

“Frak off we’re closed!” Nez shouted; her voice carrying into the front of the bar with little effort after years of shouting. This time instead of further banging the group was greeted with the sound of glass shattering and what sounded like the front door being unlocked.

“Oh you fucking assholes!” Nez slammed her cards down on the table and stormed to the door leading from the backroom to the front of the bar. “I hope you have insurance because you’re about to be sent to the hospital!”

She had just reached the door and put her hand on it to open it when a shower of bullets tore through the wood. Nez ducked back just in time to avoid the shower of splinters as more bullet holes began opening up along the entire length of the wall.

The backroom was suddenly filled with the roaring chatter of fully automatic metal beaters tearing apart the walls. Nez was flat against the ground looking over to see HZ kicking over the table and ducking behind it. Globin still sat confounded by the entire situation, either frozen in fear or stupidity, before HZ grabbed him with a pair of arms and dragged him below the table with him. As for Markus there was no sign of him and Nez had little time to search for him as the deathly hail continued.

Just when the sound was intense enough Nez was sure she was about to go deaf the gunfire stopped.

“Now that we have your attention,” came a voice from the other side of the ruined wall, “we want you to send out Markus Dublane out if he’s still alive.”

Nez crawled along the floor to the ruined wall and leaned against it. Globin was hyper ventilating and not saying much while HZ was quietly reaching for anything it could use as a weapon.  There was a bullet hole just above her and she peaked through it cautiously to see the assailants on the other side.

There were five of them in total; each one wearing a former of body armor underneath a black cloak and carrying a metal beater rifle. Four of them were already reloading fresh magazines into the weapons while the middle one appeared to be the one addressing the group.

“Are you bounty hunters?” Nez shouted. “Because they usually get paid more for live targets you stupid fuck!”

Another shower of bullets erupted and Nez dove away from the wall just in time. Her hiding spot was torn to pieces by the concentrated fire with one bullet ricocheting at her grazing her right shoulder. She let out a grunt of pain before crawling over to her office. Once inside she slammed the door closed behind her with a kick and got behind her desk only to find Markus already hiding there.

The pair looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before Markus tried to say something only for Nez to interrupt him with a swift punch to the face.

“What the hell have you done?!” Nez shouted at him as the bullets started coming through the door to her office. Nez reached past Markus underneath her desk and pulled a compact phase blast revolver. She slapped in six fresh power packs while Markus nursed his injured face.

“I may owe some people a large gambling debt,” he admitted as he spat out a glob of blood, “and I may have been avoiding paying said debt by hiding out on a remote mining colony for the last few years.”

“And you waited until now to tell me this?”

A stray bullet tore part of the desk away and the splinters embedded them in Nez’s cheek. “It’s not exactly something you want to broadcast!” Markus shouted back as the door to the office was violently kicked in and one of the armored figures stepped in.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

[lilacevans]

such a good boy | ari levinson x female reader

1,536 words. rated e;

mafia!au, puppy play (mainly use of ''good boy'' referred to as a dog, hound, puppy etc.) oral (female receiving), leg humping, soft dom reader, sub!ari

if ur under 18, go away. & please lemme know what you think!!

You and Ari attend a business meeting, and at the beginning the other boss you're meeting with just assumes that Ari is the one in charge; however, that's not the case. While you look dainty, angelic, like you couldn't even hurt a fly, you're the one who runs the family and will not hesitate to fuck up anyone who stands in your way.

But, thanks to your loyal hound, you don't have to, of course. You never need to dirty your hands again when Ari would do and will do, anything and everything for you; sometimes without even needing to say a single word.

The guy had come in with the wrong attitude right from the start. Stomping loudly into your club, along with his hoard of men, spoke down to Ari, and sat way too close to you. Continuously made flirtatious, skin-crawling comments, eyes gawking over your curvy frame; just generally being a fucking creep while trying to take you for fools.

Ari watches the guy as his eyes pass over your body, how he licks his lower lips as he glazes over every curve of your body; how he would slide closer in the booth and creep his hand towards the one you have resting on the table while he drones on about his proposals.

Ari's waiting on the edge of his seat for this motherfucker to dare to make the wrong move, say the wrong thing; and when finally does, by placing a hand on your thigh and leaning in close to your ear, Ari's reaction is instant. He knocks the table with the speed at which he stands on his feet, grabs the man hauls him up with a tight grip on his throat with ease. Men on both sides draw their guns and have them pointed in the direction of the other's while Ari snarls out,

''Don't you fucking touch her!” and squeezes his hand tighter, his teeth on show, and enjoying the sounds of struggling breaths coming from the man.

''Shush, shush, shush, it's alright,'' you begin to coax, lifting up onto your knees on the velvet booth cushion, reaching out a hand to your man in an attempt to gather his attention. ''It's okay. Take it easy, boy. Drop him, that's it, let him go.''

Ari considers ignoring your instructions, thinking you're being too easy on parasites like the one he's holding in his hand. They don't deserve to sit near you, look at you, touch you. They don't deserve to breathe the same air as you, but he knows better than to defy you and reluctantly releases his grip and lets the man thud to the floor as he gulps down air like it's water.

Ari fights back a snarl as he turns to you as you relax into your seat, swishing your legs to the side and pointing to the ground in front of you. Ari sits on the floor, facing you and curling his arms possessively around your waist as he lays his head on the meat of your thigh. His eyes flutter closed as you begin to comb your fingers through his hair, massage your fingernails against his scalp softly and pet the nape of his neck in an attempt to soothe the rage inside him.

''Aw, that's my good boy, there he is, so perfect and protective,'' you coo softly as he nuzzles his cheek against your thigh and lets out a deep sigh before opening his eyes to look back at the man who's clutching his throat while he coughs and stares at you both in fear of making another wrong move and upsetting the hound once again.

Ari would happily sit at your feet forever, protect you forever. Kill anyone for you, burn the world for you.

“You’re gonna get 5%, and you’re gonna take it with a smile on your face and lots of gratitude or, I’m gonna let him finish what he started,'' you say firmly before nodding your head towards the exit. ''Leave,'' you finish sternly before turning your attention back to Ari after the man nodded with a nervous smile and bolted from the club along with his men.

You snapped your fingers to clear the room, your men quickly making their way out, leaving you and Ari alone.

Ari doesn't need you to say a word, he manhandles your legs, lifting them with hands under your thighs, granting him access to nose at your throbbing cunt before mouthing over damp panties. Seeing him almost choke a man to death for simply placing a hand on your thigh lit a fire in your core, making you ache to feel his mouth on you.

''Ah, ah, ah, drop your hands. Dogs don't have hands, silly boy.''

Ari lets his hands fall to his lap, knowing better than to palm at his hardening cock as he laps over fabric; his moans and hums of pleasure sending faint vibrations over your clit until the point you can't hold back any longer.

You hook your arms over your thighs to help keep them up and hook a finger under your panties to pull them to the side, gasping as Ari's breath ghosts over your soaking cunt. Your heavy-lidded eyes watch as Ari licks a slow stripe from your leaking hole to your engorged nub, pulling a strung-out moan from within you.

It doesn't take Ari long to bring you right to the edge, his skillful tongue flicking quickly, rolling and waving over your clit, dipping down to lap the juices dripping from your hole, making you sing out loud, whining moans as you grip and comb through his long locks. Your thighs twitch, your breath hitches, rocking your hips against his tongue. His brows pulled together and groaning deep in his throat as he works hard to pull you over the edge.

He makes you cum with a shout of his name, tipping your head back and your back arching off the back of the booth as you roll your hips against his mouth as he moans triumphantly. You look down and your eyes lock together as he smirks and laps up every drop, making you twist and whine and push against his forehead with the palm of your hand.

''Ah, ah, sensitive- That's enough, puppy,'' You say breathlessly, dropping your legs as Ari sits back with a whine, not without stealing one last taste before doing so. Your heels click loudly against the floor, your legs still parted widely so you can stoke softly over your mound as you bite your lip and tip your head back, chest rising and falling heavily.

''Go on,'' you sigh out, sliding your foot between Ari's parted legs and pressing against his hard, clothed cock. ''You know what to do. Your turn, puppy.''

Ari doesn't need to be told twice, he gets himself comfortable, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your thigh as he begins to rut against your lower leg. Lips parted, soft gasps starting to fall from his lips. You tip your head back up to look at him, your fingers still stroking over yourself softly as you slowly watch your hound come apart.

“Such a good boy, that’s it, puppy. Oh, that feels good, doesn't it? So good for me, aren’t you? Yeah~”

It's not long before Ari's rutting furiously against your leg, mouth parted against your thighs, his deep moans filling the room, his eyes screwed shut with concentration before soon letting out frustrated, desperate whines because it's just not enough, he can't seem to find the right pressure, the right stroke, the right speed and it's becoming overwhelming and he's so wound up from the need to cum. He needs your hands on him, or to be fucking himself inside you, but he's too far gone to form the words.

He looks up at you hopelessly, unable to stop the rolls and snaps of his lips and he pleads through pitiful whines and sobs as you stroke his cheek and smirk down at him.

''You can do it, puppy, you're so close, you can do it-'' Ari lets out a loud, choked cry and shakes his head. He can't do it, he needs more. ''Yes, you can, puppy. You can do it for me, baby, you're right there. Be a good boy, be a good boy, and cum for me.''

You continue to talk him through it, hands roaming over his shoulders, through his hair, you pushing your lower leg to help with the friction until he finally cums, hips stalling and his body tensing up sharply as he comes apart.

''That's my good boy, I told you you could do it, you did so well, so good for me,'' you coo as you move your leg away and slide into his lap to wrap your arms around Ari's broad shoulders, feeling him pant against your neck and still letting out gasps and whines as you roll your hips down against his sensitive, spent cock until he can't take it no more and grips your hips to stop your movements as you chuckle lowly in his ear.

''Such a good boy. Let's get you home and cleaned up, hmm?''

#chris evans #ari levinson #ari levinson fic #ari levinson x reader #chris evans x female reader #ari levinson smut #lila writes

[purplefangirl42]

Fireworks

Summary: Following a successful campaign, a local festival provides you with the chance to find out if your feelings for Cody are returned.

Pairing: Commander Cody/Fem!Reader

A/N: This is a birthday gift for @monako-jinn-stories. A day early, but I hope you have a wonderful birthday tomorrow, Jinn. Love you 💜

Tags: Confessions, First Kiss, Reader Wears a Dress

AO3 Link

The festival was in full swing by the time you arrived with a few of your men; lights were shining all around you, children laughed as they ran past, and the delicious smells of various local foods drifted through the air. It was like something out of a holomovie. The men escorting you wandered off in different directions to enjoy all there was available, leaving you on your own.

You had been stationed on this planet alongside the 212th for nearly a month, and the fighting had finally come to an end, just in time for the local festival. Despite the trials of the war, the locals were more than prepared to continue with the festivities as originally planned and had been overjoyed when they learned their saviors would be sticking around to join them.

As you passed a booth, you noticed General Kenobi suspiciously poking at a bowl of food in front of him as Commander Cody stood beside him wearing an amused expression. You walked over to the pair of them and caught the tail end of what Cody was saying.

“Just try it, you’ll like it,” he said.

Kenobi lifted the spoon to his face and sniffed the food before placing it in his mouth. It didn’t take long before he was spitting it right back out again. He coughed violently as he reached for his water. Beside him, Cody laughed loudly at his General’s expense.

“Too hot for you?” he asked.

Kenobi scowled at him as he drank his water in large gulps. 

“Can I try?” you asked.

Kenobi pushed the bowl in your direction and gave you a sympathetic look.

“Do so at your own risk,” he said.

Taking a new spoon, you took a bite of the offered dish and chewed it slowly before swallowing. It was a bit spicy, but you had eaten much worse. You shrugged and gave Kenobi a smug smile.

“Tastes fine to me.”

Kenobi shook his head and got up from the table. A stray cough escaped him as he walked away. Cody took his vacated seat and ordered a bowl for himself from the vendor. The two of you sat in companionable silence as you ate. Cody would glance at you from time to time, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. 

“Were you putting on a show or do you really like that stuff?” he asked.

“I would say ‘like’ is a strong word, but it’s okay. He’s just a wuss when it comes to spicy things, you know that.”

Cody chuckled and finished up his food before returning both your bowls and offering his thanks to the vendor. The two of you got up and started walking together down the street, pausing every so often to look at something before continuing on.

“Will you be going to the party tonight?” you asked.

“Of course, I need to make sure that Waxer and Boil stay out of trouble.”

“That sounds like a big task for one man,” you said, laughing softly.

“I think I can handle it. Will you be there?”

Originally, you hadn’t been sure if you wanted to go or not. But your mind had been made up for you when you saw the dress in the market earlier. It was beautiful and you were sure that it would have an effect on the man that walked beside you. You had purchased it immediately and it was waiting for you back in your tent. You glanced up at Cody and gave him a small smile.

“I heard there’s a local tradition where you kiss someone when they light the fireworks.”

“Oh really?” he said. “I hadn’t heard of that.”

“It’s like when you do it at the turn of the new year. I think it’s a lesser known tradition, but I found out about it from one of the locals.”

Cody looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you could swear you saw the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Hoping for a kiss from someone, General?”

“As long as it isn’t Obi-Wan,” you said, trying to divert his suspicions. “I don’t think I’d like the beard.”

Cody let out a loud bark of laughter, which made you grin. You weren’t sure if he shared your feelings, but part of you really hoped he did. Maybe tonight would be your chance to find out. 

Later that evening, as you put the finishing touches on your hairdo and makeup, you thought about your conversation with Cody from earlier. You smoothed your hands down the front of the dress and admired your reflection in the small mirror leaning against a box. Satisfied with how you looked, you left your tent.

As you walked across the camp, you lifted the hem of your dress to avoid dragging it through the dirt. Paying more attention to keeping it unsoiled, you didn’t watch where you were walking and ran right into someone. Luckily, they were paying more attention than you were and were able to stop you from toppling over.

“I’m sorry about that,” Kenobi said, taking a step back once you had found a solid footing. “You look lovely. Are you heading to the party?”

“Yes I am. Aren’t you going?” 

He shook his head and pointed in the direction of his tent.

“I’m going to take advantage of the quiet around camp and get some rest. You enjoy yourself though.”

You thanked him and started to walk away before stopping when he called your name.

“He’ll be amazed by you, my dear. I promise.”

You stared at him blankly, mouth hanging open in shock. Kenobi smiled at you and waved you off before turning around and heading for his tent. You had no idea how he could know about your feelings for his Commander, but at least you seemed to have his blessing. 

When you arrived at the festival center where the party was being held, you were delighted to see so many clones out enjoying the festivities. They deserved this happiness after all their hard work. You scanned the crowd for Cody, but couldn’t find him anywhere near you. You were a bit disappointed, but you still had quite a bit of time to find him before the fireworks show.

As time passed, you grew more and more disappointed by Cody’s absence. He had assured you that he would be here, but you hadn’t seen him at all. You had even come across Waxer and Boil, who he had said specifically were his mission for the night. They hadn’t seen him either. 

The fireworks show was due to start in ten minutes, and by that point, you weren’t sure if you even wanted to watch it. You found a bench near the edge of the party and flopped down on it. While you knew it likely wasn’t personal, you couldn’t help but feel hurt by Cody’s absence. Especially since you had talked about this event just that day.

Someone announced that there were only a few minutes remaining before they lit the first part of the display, and you took that as your cue to leave. You stood from the bench and smoothed out your dress. The dress you had hoped to impress him with. Just as you started to walk away, you heard someone call your name. When you turned towards the source of the sound, you could see Cody pushing towards you through the crowd. 

He wasn’t dressed for the party at all and he looked frazzled. When he came to a stop beside you, he took a minute to catch his breath before speaking. When he opened his mouth to speak, he stopped as his gaze traveled down your body to take in the sight before him.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly as his eyes drifted back up to meet yours. “I’m sorry I’m late. One of the shinies ate something that didn’t agree with him and he was in a state. I was trying to help him out and lost track of time.”

The truth that he had in fact not ditched you caused a twinge in your heart. How could you have thought so badly of him? He was helping one of his brothers and you had been sitting here pouting. 

“At least you’re here for the fireworks,” you said. “I’ve heard they are quite spectacular.”

Cody took a step towards you and reached for your hand. You looked up at him in surprise as he pulled you closer to him.

“I didn’t come for the fireworks,” he said. “At least not to watch them.”

The boom of the first explosion in the sky was nothing compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest. As the bright lights illuminated the festival, you could see the adoration in the brown eyes in front of you. It seemed too good to be true. 

Cody snapped you out of your shocked state by surging forward and capturing your lips with his own. One of his arms wrapped around your waist while the other hand found purchase behind your head, holding you as close as he could. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly.

After a few moments, your lips broke apart, but Cody didn’t loosen his hold on you. He rested his forehead against yours and brushed your nose with his own. The look of adoration hadn’t faded from his eyes as he looked down at you.

“I wouldn’t have needed fireworks to do that, but they were a nice excuse,” he said.

You laughed softly and moved your head back a little to have a better look at him.

“In the future, we’ll just have to make our own fireworks then.” 

Cody smiled brightly and leaned in towards you again.

“I like the sound of that.”

He kissed you again just as another huge explosion of light filled the sky behind him, bathing the two of you in colorful sparks to match the ones surging between you.

A/N: Give this a like, comment, and reblog and let me know what you think!

#commander cody #commander cody x reader #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #gift fic

[whitegoldtower]

Mild Inconveniences / Pet Peeves that would piss off the Skyrim Thalmor NPCs:

Ancano: mouth-breathing. Breathe too loudly in his general direction and you’re getting acrylic-nail slapped across the hall of the elements. Also the fucker who keeps sniffing really loudly in the library. Ancano has a vendetta against them. Like Ondolemar, he tries to ignore it at first, but it ends with him snapping his book shut as loudly as he can in retaliation, followed by a loud, fake cough before he turns on his heel and struts out of the Arcaneum. He’s petty like that.

Ondolemar: pen clicking. At first he ignores it but the more you do it the more you can feel his eyes burning a hole in your skull. His desk getting ‘tidied’ by the staff at Understone Keep. Everything has its specific place and when it is touched, he knows. He doesn’t like people touching his things. Also people trying to tell him something he already knows / talking over him. In the case of Y/N becoming hysterical/freaked out by something, he will try to remain calm bc he has a v long fuse but it will get to a point where you’re stressing him out too much and he’ll just suddenly shout at the top of his lungs “Pack it in!” Or “Y/N!” (If you’ve seen it, think Clive from Benidorm with the “TONYA!” or better yet, Izzy’s “PACK IT IN” when Blackbeard’s going off on one in OFMD)

Elenwen: mascara on her eyelid. There’s only so many times it can happen before she snaps. Rulindil’s sneezing (it’s nuke level loud and always makes her jump out of her skin) from his office opposite hers. She shouts across the embassy at him to stfu.

Rulindil: ink on his hand. I headcanon that he’s left-handed, and subsequently smudges everything he writes, getting the ink all over his pinky finger. Sometimes he forgets and scratches his face / wipes his brow, spreading the ink, which sets him off even more. Also the sound of Elenwen filing her nails enrages him.

#tesblr #skyrim #thalmor #altmer #ancano #college of winterhold #ondolemar #elenwen #rulindil

[fionajames]

You said you take requests so I hope this is okay!! Just wanted to ask if you could write something fluffy with Anakin and Obi-Wan, i adore them a lot

*gasp* A rEqUeSt?!?!?! YAY THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! ITS 100% OKAY!!!! I LOVE REQUESTS!!!!!

I RLLY HOPE THIS FULFILLS YOUR WISH, ANON!!!!

(It starts a lil angsty but quickly turns soft)

(sorry its so short, i did this in french class)

Anakin shuddered as he watched the clone next to him drop, a blast straight through the shiny white armour. They’d been fighting for around an hour now, and they were taking more casualties than he would prefer. 

Beside him - several metres away - Obi-Wan spun his blue lightsaber through the air, frantically trying to deflect as many blaster bolts as possible. He wasn’t sheltering or hiding behind anything, so the only cover he had was the blasts coming from behind him and his glowing blue blade.

“Rex!” Anakin cried out, shuffling along the ground to join Obi-Wan. Usually he’d be the one in such a reckless position but Obi-Wan seemed to have forgotten that. “Cover fire for me!” The clones changed the direction they were firing in to provide the Jedi Knight cover as he scrambled to Obi-Wan’s side.

“How are you going?” He shouted over the roar of the blasts as he helped protect the troops. 

“I would much prefer this fight to be over!” The ginger shouted back before gasping as a fiery blue blast shot passed him and hit him directly in the centre of his armour.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin screeched, glancing at his former-Master as he dropped to the ground. Cody appeared from the rock he was sheltering behind and grasped his General’s torso, pulling him out of the open. The Jedi Knight quickly followed, crouching next to him.

Obi-Wan gave him a short smile, managing to sit up much to the others’ protests. “It’s alright, the armour protected me.” Cody and Anakin exchanged unamused glances. “Help me up.” He reached for Anakin’s hand, but was quickly swatted away. 

“Absolutely not!” The Knight shrieked, pushing his former-Master back down. “We’ll finish the battle, you rest!”

After a minute of protesting, Obi-Wan reluctantly sat back down.

                                                -

“Are you feeling any better?” Anakin asked as he entered the Medbay, hands on his hips with a smirk. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, sitting up from the bed and playing with the bandages on his chest.

“Very funny, Anakin,” he replied, grasping his inner robes and pulling them over his head - flinching ever-so-slightly when they touched his bandages. “I’m fine.” As soon as he’d finished his sentence, he coughed rather loudly - contradicting himself unintentionally.

Anakin raised an eyebrow in scepticism.

“You don’t sound ‘fine’” he told the ginger with a soft smile, moving to sit beside him. “I think you caught something whilst your body was injured and recovering.”

Obi-Wan scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ve got nothing, Anakin. I just, uh, breathed in too quickly,” he explained, clearly lying as the brunette scoffed. He reached up and rested the back of his hand on Obi-Wan’s forehead, flinching slightly.

“Well that’s clearly a lie,” he replied, slight worry seeping into his words. “You’ve got a fever, Obi-Wan.” The ginger opened his mouth to respond, before coughing again violently, his body wracking with the action and the brunette draped an arm over his shoulders with a frown. “And a cough.”

“You should probably stay back,” Obi-Wan rasped and Anakin grimaced at the sound of his voice. “You don’t wanna catch this.” The brunette fondly laughed and pulled his former-Master into his side, heaving him to his feet. 

“C’mon, Obi-Wan, I’ll help you to your room.” Obi-Wan shot him a thankful grin before they began slowly shuffling down the hallway. 

“Thank you,” he coughed out, his body shuddering. 

“No problem, Master!”

                                                -

When they finally reached Obi-Wan’s room, the ship was docking back on Coruscant, so together they packed up all of their stuff and left for the Jedi Temple, the older one collapsing on the couch in his quarters. 

Anakin gave him a small, sympathetic smile - rather uncharacteristic of him - when the ginger delved into a fit of coughs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The brunette got to work silently and quickly, trying his very best to make an edible soup. 

He remembered when he was only recently made Obi-Wan’s Padawan and had gotten a similar sickness that left him bed-ridden for a fortnight. Obi-Wan had made him chicken lentil soup daily and entertained him when he was bored.

Now, he would do the same.

“Obi-Wan,” he called out softly and the ginger let out a responsive grunt from his place on the couch, face buried in a pillow. Anakin laughed before taking a seat on the chair next to him.  “I made you soup.”

“I hope you didn’t burn it this time” Obi-Wan rasped, a smirk playing at his lips as he gratefully took the bowl. “Thank you though.”

“You better be grateful,” Anakin granted, lightly shoving his former-Master’s shoulder. “That’s the first thing I’ve made that isn’t horrible.”

“Ahsoka liked your meat that one time.”

“That's cause it was basically raw, Master. She’s a carnivore.”

“Oh, right,” Obi-Wan laughed, taking another sip of the soup. “This is really good!”

“Really?”

“Really.”

I HOPE THAT WAS GOOD

HONESTLY U GUYS THO, LIKE I DIDNT EXPECT ANYONE TO SEE THIS STUFF, LET ALONE LIKE IT AND REQUEST FOR ME?!!?!?!?!?

TYSM!

#the clone wars #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars prequels #obi wan kenobi #brothersnotship #ka’ra writes ❤️

[wolveria]

Moon Champion for wip wednesday!

Moon man is popular today!!!

Part 2

Part 3

A thump landed directly beyond you, so forceful that it propelled you forward a few feet and you landed ungracefully on your side.

Coughing and rolling onto your back, you stared up the suit—or rather, the entity which appeared to be a suit—towering over you like a figment out of the space age. The EMU-type spacesuit was even larger in person, and the SCP took a step toward you, forcing you to scramble backwards in order to not be stepped on.

“Greetings, old man!” he loudly proclaimed, his voice booming off the pine trees. Several birds were startled from sleep, taking flight into the star-filled sky. “I am Moon Champion, Champion of the Moon, defender of space justice and—...”

He peered down at you, cocking his helmet slightly.

“Have you been damaged?”

You winced and shook your head. It was difficult to remember that this particular SCP had never intentionally harmed anyone before, even if his appearance often caused collateral damage of an impressive proportion.

“I’m fine,” you said, carefully getting to your feet and brushing off the seat of your jeans. “Sorry, you were talking about... defending space or something?”

“Ah, yes!” He straightened his shoulders and pointed a finger upwards in a vague direction. The sky, probably, though it only looked like it was pointing into the treetops. “I seek aid for my people amongst the fleshy ground dwellers of your world, for I am told you have many resources comprised of confectioneries and custard. I assume you are the President of this planet, and you have come to greet me and pledge your unwavering fealty to the cause of slaying every Moon Monster until they are wiped from the face of the Moon?”

Christ, did the guy even breathe?... All right, considering he flew through space, probably not.

From what the Foundation had gathered, this was generally how SCP-1233’s exploits went. He rocketed to the ground and hit with meteoric impact, proceeded to the nearest small town, and attempted to recruit humans for his... moon wars.

And here you were, the unlucky level 2 assistant researcher who had found him first. You weren’t normally cleared for field work, but the SCP had landed not far from Site-20, and you’d been rushed to a van and ordered to change into civilian hiking gear. It certainly blended in better than your typical lab coat and slacks.

You had to navigate this carefully. SCP-1233’s last visit to Earth on October 5th, 2017, had ended in disaster. Landing near Hereford, England, the entity had stumbled onto the one unfortunately person who had sarcastically agreed to aid him to fight Moon Monsters. The entity had grabbed the man and launched into the atmosphere at a lethal speed.

The body was never recovered.

“Uh.” You fidgeted with the hem of your plaid jacket, still not comfortable with the civilian disguise. “I am the President, yes.”

#scp 1233 x reid #scp 1233 x reader #scp 1233 #wip game #having to go back earlier in the wip #don't want to spoil the moon magic yet

[coruscantguard]

The Truth Lies (In An Unmarked Grave)

On some days, Rex is certain the grief is going to kill him. There's only so much a person can take, and he reached that limit long ago-- reached it, then vaulted straight past it. Echo is alive, and that's fantastic, but... Fives isn't, and he's only the most recent on the long list of people Rex has failed to save. On some days, Rex is convinced that he's just walking wounded, that it's only a matter of time before his injuries catch up to him and put him in the ground.

That's... not what happens. Instead, Rex wakes up with Fives, and General Skywalker years in the past, back before Fives' death, before the Citadel, with their memories of the future intact. Instead, Rex finds himself caught between a rock and a hard place as he tries to save his family, with the constant threat of the Chancellor hanging over his shoulder.

(Ao3 Link)

Chapter 1

After working with The Bad Batch– after finding Echo and losing him again, after punching Crosshair and forcing himself to work with him anyway– Rex finds himself sitting on a log, staring at the bonfire in front of him.

The roaring fire illuminates the darkness of the night sky, and Rex can feel the heat from it on his face, warming up his knees. Despite that, his fingers feel cold around his beer bottle as he stares down the flames, a shade short of tipsy, not quite tipsy enough.

[[MORE]]

He feels… almost isolated, with the way the sky stretches out above him, vast and endless, twinkling stars bright against the darkness of the night. But he’s not alone– far from it, in fact– Jesse’s sitting on his right, and Kix is on Jesse’s right, and Ridge on Kix’s right, and Sterling on Ridge’s right, which brings him all around to being on Rex’s left.

They’re a lively bunch. It’s not quiet around the campfire– far from it, in fact. If Rex felt a little less detached, he knows he’d be right there with them, laughing and joking. But the events of the last few days, months, years, weigh on him, and it’s easier to let himself be mesmerized by the crackling flames than putting in the effort to be engrossed in conversation.

Jesse, however, is not one to be upstaged by a firepit. He leans forward, grins, waves his hand in front of Rex’s face. “Hey Cap,” he says, ignoring Kix’s facepalm. “How do you know if there’s a member of the Bad Batch at your party?”

Rex sighs, looks up at the sky. Prays for some sort of divine intervention.

No divine intervention arrives. Rex sighs, loudly. “How, Jesse?” he asks, half certain he already knows the answer.

“”They’ll tell you,” Jesse replies, and despite the fact that Rex had been expecting that exact answer, he still finds himself snorting at the accuracy of it. “Hey, how would the Bad Batch kill a space snake?”

Rex sighs again, louder this time. He definitely knows where this one is going. “How?”

“They make contact with it, ignore all Judicial Department directives and build a rapport with the snake, train it to kill other snakes, then return to Kamino to file a requisition of GAR resources form and take in the snake.”

Rex… shouldn’t ask. They’re all feeling weird after their last mission, every single Forcedamned clone is a raw nerve at the moment. He really shouldn’t ask.

Kriff it. He might as well ask. “Is the snake in this metaphor meant to be Echo?”

“Of course not sir, Echo was– is about as sneaky as a reg manual to the face.”

“Big words coming from you,” Kix chimes in, taking advantage of Jesse’s temporary distraction to steal his beer and finish it off.

“Kix, I’ll let you know that I’m an ARC trooper, actually,” Jesse defends. “I absolutely know how to be sneaky.”

“Well, since you’re a high and mighty ARC trooper, I guess that means that you’d just kill our metaphorical space snake by accident, and it would turn out that this metaphorical snake was sacred to the people there, and the natborns would then demand the removal of Republic forces from the planet.”

Rex chokes on his beer, coughs as Jesse sputters. Kriffing hell, someone decided to go for the throat today. “Oh, kark off,” is what Jesse eventually says in response, and Kix shrugs, looking all too smug with Jesse’s bottle in his hand.

After he finishes restoring the air to his lungs, Rex finds himself looking down at his hands, letting the conversation fade to a dull roar in the background. He looks down at his right hand, forms a fist with it, frowns. Unrolls his fingers one by one, flexes them once, then twice, then three times. The memory of punching Crosshair is all too present in his mind, as is the memory of liking it. Of wanting to do it again.

For all that he knows that he was made for killing, Rex has never thought of himself as an inherently violent person. But right now, there’s a part of him saying otherwise, a part of him that’s determinedly whispering what might even be the truth in the back of his mind.

He’s realized recently that he’s changing. And it’s because of the war, yes, but it’s also because of other things, and that… worries him. Scares him, almost, though he’ll never admit it out loud. Rex is a clone. He’s not made for change– the opposite, really. He’s been designed not to evolve past his programming.

But Crosshair had said that they should’ve left Echo behind, and Rex had seen red. For a second, all he’d been able to think about was Fives’ anguish at the Citadel, Fives’ grief in the aftermath, Fives’ rapidly cooling body in his arms, and–

Yeah, Rex had punched him. The shabuir had deserved it– deserved worse, an insidious voice inside him whispers.

(Rex at the beginning of the war never would’ve done that. Rex doesn’t know if his past self would even recognize the man he’s become now.)

Anyway, General Skywalker may not have liked that punch, but Kix and Jesse were on his side, and that was good enough for Rex. It had to be.

He glances down at his fist once more, sighs, and picks up his beer again, finishing it off. He probably should get started on those reports and finish filling out Echo’s transfer forms, so Rex opens his mouth to excuse himself when General Skywalker comes out of his tent, holding something strange and triangular, something that’s glowing red, and suddenly–

The world tips sideways.

Dimly, Rex hears alarmed shouts of his own name, feels the beer bottle slip from his hands, but all he can focus on is the nauseating roil of his own stomach, and the way that General Skywalker seems to have lost his balance too, and is clinging to a tree for support. Rex blinks, tries to focus, tries to marshal his thoughts into something coherent, then–

Nothing.

---

Fives lays on the cold floor of a warehouse on Coruscant, and knows he’s dying. There’s a blaster bolt in his chest, and Rex is holding him– oh, that’s nice of him– and he’s dying.

Fives blinks his eyes. Speaks.

And then he dies.

He wakes up to an insistent hand on his shoulder, shaking him in a way that no one has done in years.

“Did you kriffing steal a sedative from Coric’s stash or some shit, asshole?” Echo demands as soon as Fives blearily opens his eyes, and Fives coughs, relishes in the ability to freely breathe, and– wait.

“Fives?” Echo asks, a hint of worry coloring his tone, but Fives can’t concentrate on that, because this is Echo talking to him. Echo, who’s dead, and that must mean Fives is dead, and he’s with Echo again–

He’s crying before he can even fully process it, ignoring Echo’s surprised exclamation as he pulls Echo down on top of him. Fuck. He’s dead, Force, he didn’t want to die, but he did, and now he’s with Echo again. He’s in the afterlife, and he’s with Echo again, and that alone is enough to undue him.

#captain rex #arc trooper jesse #clone trooper kix #tcw #the clone wars #my writing #gallorywrites

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So 'Technically A Cutsleeve?' is very...wishy washy for me lol. Like I know the general direction I'd like the fic to go in, I have the major beats planned out and I have since I first got the idea for it back in 2021. But how I get there is still very much up in the air, and I've written a lot of scenes that I don't even know if I'll use or not anymore. In one version of the fic (that currently exists and I can post it if y'all are curious) Mo Xuanyu and Lan Jingyi admit their feelings to each other when Lan Jingyi is laid up sick in bed while visiting Jinlintai for the first time and Mo Xuanyu comes to help take care of him since he'd already been helping out in the healing pavilion anyway when Jin Ling came to fetch some medicine for him. The problem is that that timeline/series of events doesn't really work out for the fic anymore because of other choices I've made, but I do still love the idea so I can't bring myself to delete the scene.

I also have a short follow-up scene after Jingyi is well again and he and Mo Xuanyu are enjoying their new relationship...but it doesn't make sense anymore, because I can't use the sick scene anymore, and also the timeline really doesn't work out by then. But I still really like that scene too, so I don't want to get rid of it either 😂 All of this to say, since I don't know if it'll make it into the fic or not but I still love it, I thought I'd post it here for WIP Wednesday, so here's that follow-up scene of the two of them walking through the gardens a little while after they've established they want to be together:

-/-

“You’re awfully smug,” Mo Xuanyu notes with a little jostle of their linked arms. “Would you like to share with the class?”

“Nope,” Jingyi replies, not even attempting to stop smirking. “Nothing to share that you don’t already know.”

“Oh?”

Jingyi readjusts his hold on Mo Xuanyu’s arm a bit to bring him in tighter against his side and his smirk only grows as Mo Xuanyu sighs gustily.

“A-Yi it’s been a month, are you still this smug that you wooed me while on your ‘deathbed’?”

“I was on my deathbed!” he protests, not missing the sarcasm in the question. “Sizhui had given me up for a lost cause and was just waiting for nature to run its course! It’s not my fault your taste in men runs towards those who are sickly and coughing up a lung.”

Mo Xuanyu sighs loudly again and for the sake of their bickering Jingyi pretends not to see that he’s smiling. “Fujun’s memory is stunningly accurate and does not at all lean towards exaggeration.”

Jingyi stumbles gracelessly over his feet at the title – Mo Xuanyu is eerily good at that, finding precisely what form of affection is going to hit him the hardest at any given moment. “You do not play fair,” he chastises even as his ears and cheeks burn.

“And you need to find a time to tell Xuan-ge that we’re courting since we’re really doing this. I know I’m eccentric, but we should still do this the right way.”

That sobers Jingyi up quickly and he stops in his tracks to turn to Mo Xuanyu so he can study his expression. He’s beautiful today (as he always is), wearing a full face of makeup and one of his best gowns, miles of fluttering deep blue silk with an orchid huadian between his brows.

“You being weird doesn’t mean I’m not going to court you properly,” Jingyi protests immediately and he sees something tight around Mo Xuanyu’s eyes relax just for a moment. “A-Yu, why wouldn’t I court you properly?”

“Who said you wouldn’t?” Mo Xuanyu deflects instantly, making as if to turn away to continue on their chosen path through the gardens. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t.”

“A-Yu.”

“A-Yi.”

“A-Yu-“

“Okay stop, we already know we can argue like this for hours,” Mo Xuanyu huffs and Jingyi smirks again as his partner gives up so easily. He’s rewarded with a shove that he immediately counters with one of his own, though after a moment he turns it into an excuse to reel Mo Xuanyu in, tuck him against his chest to hold him close. They’re alone in the gardens, no one yet aware that they should be accompanied by a chaperone, and so he brings Mo Xuanyu in close and presses his cheek to the side of his head.

“I’m going to do this right,” he murmurs quietly against Mo Xuanyu’s silken hair, currently caught up in a complicated updo full of little pins and a pair of blue-jeweled buyao pins. “You deserve all the same things that everyone else gets when they’re courting, anything you want, and I want to give them to you.” Jingyi’s breath catches when Mo Xuanyu slides his slender hands up his chest to curl around the back of his neck, cool and comforting and tugging him downwards so Mo Xuanyu can lean in and press their foreheads together (being mindful of his own huadian and Jingyi’s ribbon, which he hasn’t touched yet).

“What if I wanted to say fuck it and elope?”

Jingyi snorts at that and nudges the tips of their noses together for a moment before he straightens again, arms still loosely wrapped around Mo Xuanyu’s waist. “Fine, let’s go find your brother then and bow to him and then you can come back with me to Gusu so we can bow to Qingheng-Jun and Lan-xiansheng.”

“Oh gods you’d actually do that, wouldn’t you?” Mo Xuanyu marvels and Jingyi smiles widely.

“Anything you want, A-Yu, I’m serious. So be careful what you ask me for.”

Mo Xuanyu stares at him for another handful of moments like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing before he gives himself a visible shake and withdraws to link their arms again and the gesture makes Jingyi’s heart stutter in his chest just as much as it had that very first time. They don’t get much longer to enjoy each other’s private company as they’re soon joined by one of the nursemaids bringing little Jin Ye to Mo Xuanyu, but even then his heart doesn’t get a break.

“Do you remember A-Ling’s friend Lan Jingyi?” Mo Xuanyu asks the toddler perched in his arms as the three of them walk together (now spaced appropriately apart). Jin Ye shakes her head ‘no’ and pops her thumb in her mouth as she regards him with evident imperious distrust. Jingyi does his best to look properly chastised by her glaring rather than utterly charmed. “He’s Yu-shushu’s second favorite person in the whole world, so you have to be nice and show him what to do since you’re my very favorite, okay?” Jin Ye considers that for a long moment, little bottom lip pouting out impossibly far, and then she nods and Mo Xuanyu gives her a smacking kiss to the cheek that makes her giggle. How in the world is Jingyi not supposed to fall in love?

#the untamed fanfic #WIP Wednesday #Mo Xuanyu #Lan Jingyi #Mo Xuanyu/Lan Jingyi #Technically A Cutsleeve? #basically I have way too many feelings about them and no idea what to do with them all lol