#i was just thinking about how it might seem a little silly that lady is so drawn to dramatic people when she is not a very dramatic

[horrorartsworld]

A manspreading man pt. 2

alastor/shy f!reader

warnings: S-M-U-T, kinda not proofread (wrote this late as fuck one night 😭)

here’s part one if you missed it!

(little recap:)

After embarrassingly leaving the meeting with much of a rush you didn’t notice that a certain someone was lurkingly following you in the shadows....

Once making it to the ladies room you splash some water in your face in attempts to rid of your filthy thoughts, unaware of what’s going on around you as the warm water felt good on your face, slowly melting all those said thoughts away.

"Why'd you run off darling...l was just starting to have some fun~" you jump startled water flying as you accidentally splash it all over the place, seeing as he was towering over you from behind in the mirror.

"I-I just needed a few minutes..." stammering as you wanted to scold yourself for your silly girly urges from earlier, not daring to look up at him out of sheer uneasiness as it would be too much for your little mind to wrap around, trying to put your main focus on something else as you try to clean up the mess you just made with the water.

"A moment to think about me...hmm?" he teased in your ear as a clawed finger danced along the underside of your chin before he forcefully grabbed it making you look up with a gasp, eyes immediately meeting his gaze in the reflection, one of power and what seemed like lust.

Making your thighs quiver relentlessly beneath you at the site, trying so desperately to stop them by squeezing them together, but Alastor takes notice before you can do anything about it causing a low chuckle to come from him. “Are you….horny my little fawn?”

Your eyes suddenly widen at his lack of self decency coming over him that was so unlike him, your lip trembling as you failed to muster a word out with these new found feelings that started to become overwhelming and his filthy words seemed to just be adding to it, along with the heat that was now building in your core.

Poor Alastor was trying to hold himself back as you failed to respond to him, getting slightly frustrated with your pheromones being so intoxicatingly strong in his senses that the answer to his question was quite clear though he was determined to hear it confirmed from your pretty lips.

“I asked you a question my dear…” grumbling sternly , setting his microphone against the wall as his other hand now lingers on your hip. You try averting your gaze only to feel how he suddenly ruts against you roughly trying to get your attention back as he makes your hips knock into the edge of the sinks counter, then forces your chin back towards the mirror once more.

“N-no…i-i’m not” you squeak, seeing yourself wrapped up in his grasp. Your lies only making him push into you further, his hard-on becoming more evident against your clothed behind.

“No?” he snickers doubtfully as his hand that was on your hip was creeping down the front of you, pulling you away from the sink as he lifted the front of your skirt up seeing your arousal clear as day, practically dripping down your thighs. “Then what might this be….? It wouldn’t be from the way i was sitting earlier would it?” he teased more as his other hand left your chin to inspect the now soaked area.

You nibble at your bottom lip while his chin now rests on your shoulder looking down with you as his fingers pry at your clothed clit. Lightly circling it with slow bits of pressure.

A soft whimper manages to escape your lips accidentally giving you away within an instant, cheeks burning to high heavens as that’s all it took to have him start peppering wet kisses along your neck, while the other hand dropped the front of your skirt to grab at your hip pulling your backside into him more. “There’s that pretty song of yours….” he mumbles against your neck giving it a playful nip as he elicits another whimper from you.

His fingers eventually weasel their way under your panties coming into contact with your wetness moving it over you to spread it amongst your folds as he continues his circles with a more increased speed, your breath getting more shaky as your head falls back onto his shoulder giving him more access to your neck which he took advantage of, nipping and marking wherever he could on your delicate skin.

With a sudden whine erupting from you and your release creeping up rather too quickly Alastor hurriedly removes his fingers from you making you feel lost without his touch. Uncertainty written all over your face as his plans for you were unclear until you watched shamefully him lick up your juices with his long pointed tongue, savoring your taste.

His lip curls seeing you watch him, as to then your surprise he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, his tongue immediately invading your mouth letting it tango with yours as the taste of your own wetness lingered in your mouth.

Once Alastor pulls away with a string a saliva still connecting the two of you he then bends you over the sink letting your ass poke up just enough to see your exposed goods.

His ears lay flat amongst his head as he fumbles with the buckle on his belt, metal clicking finally as he wastes no time pulling his blushing red cock out just enough to free it from the confines of his pants with his eyes only fixated on the dripping slick of your needy pussy. Rubbing his fat tip along it to tease you further.

"Tell me what you want darling…" his voice dripping with desire with a slight glitching noise towards the end of his sentence sending a ringing sensation through your ears.

“I-I can’t say…” your shyness kicking in though you’ve already made it this far with the infamous radio demon.

“Yes you can…otherwise you won’t get anything until you ask properly”

You huff a little blowing the air out of your cheeks as you muster up the courage, “F-fuck me please…”

“Certainly,” giving himself one to three pumps, with his other arm wrapped securely around your tummy before he filled you completely in one quick thrust. Stretching you instantaneously and you try to gasp out for air that was denied with his hand wrapping around your throat holding you flush against him as he made you watch yourself get fucked in the mirror.

“Look at yourself….mhphm…such a dirty girl~”

Your face incredibly flushed and your body is puddy in his hands. It's getting more difficult to breathe by the second as he squeezes your throat, though that doesn’t stop the few moans that do trickle out.

Every part of your body wants to split into twos and Alastor doesn't even give you the time of day to let you adjust. Finding his rhythm as he slowly pulls out only to thrust inside much faster again and again almost hitting your g-spot everytime he went in.

“That’s it, take it like a good little toy frrmee, i’m gonna fill you up so good, make that pretty pussy all full, would you like that?” he says between groans, that left you completely gone off his cock, babbling incoherent nonsense as his other hand goes down to rub vicious circles on your clit once more, making you cum all over his fingers and cock.

“A-Alastor!” you plead wanting him to cum so badly as he continues to thrust relentlessly into your pussy.

A low primal growl comes from him as he rolls his head back thrusting hard into you a few more times before he fills you full of his cum, ears twitching as he revels inside you before completely pulling out with a shaky pop in his static along with a pleasurable sigh.

He watches with hazy eyes as the cum escapes your sensitive hole making a satisfied crackle come from him as he then puts himself together, back to his dapper self. As you try to do the same he stops you, “Ah ah…i want you stay like that with my cum dripping out of you for the rest of the day…” he tuts making you pout a little with the uncomfortableness of it, but you were just glad to feel full.

“How about we head back to that meeting now?” he extend an arm out to you in which you obliged as your legs were feeling quite wobbly making your cheeks flush.

Once back everyone’s giving the two of you ether smug or concerned looks. Seeing the few bruises on your neck, Alastor’s somewhat ruffled hair, your wobbly legs, you guys were both a dead give away.

Though Charlie bless her heart was still going on about whatever activity that was happening that you completely forgot about.

As you try to waddle your way back to your seat your tugged in completely the opposite direction by Alastor who seated you right on top of his lap, not caring about your slickness at the moment but more so about your flustered face as he pulled this in front of all your friends. A sinister grin taking part on his face as he enjoyed it, leaning towards you whispering,

"Now let's see if you can behave yourself for the rest of this meeting…"

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin imagine #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #smut #alastor x reader #alastor imagine

[katakaluptastrophy]

Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.

#the locked tomb #tlt #magnus quinn #harrow the ninth #To digress into TUG spoiler territory... #A Lyctoral Abigail slowly blurring her calm and polite filter into Magnus' directness...

[comfortless]

to the anon who was talking about konig and the rule following intention thing: i love you. he seems cheeky like that. BUT i will also climb that big man and start strangling him if he entertained or led on the recruit.

idk, maybe its my rabies, but i would start whacking him grgrgrgrg. wrangle him till he acts right!!!!! (whatever that means)

i also love that anon! 🤭

Being instructed to “act right” for König is more or less the same as following any order at work. “Shoot that target.” is the very same as “Don’t glare at a stranger.” The differences between the König at home and the König on the field are subtle things. No bloodshed and rewards in the form of tenderness and orgasms instead. He’s less rigid, less focused, but still a soldier, the strangest one at that.

Everything is taken as directly as possible, because he’s not going to question any hidden meaning behind words. That’s silly. He always says just what he means, so shouldn’t everyone else?

There’s a lot he just doesn’t get, and your jealousy happens to be one of those things.

He would kill for you, lets you graze your fingertips over his favorite weapons, allows you to hold his face and even pretends that your staring doesn’t make his fingers twitch and sweat bead at his temples. König is loyal and so trusting with you… how dare you accuse him of worshipping some other woman in the same way? How could you even believe that?

Say you, his beloved, put together the pieces, realize that surely this woman is messaging your König during his leave for a reason. There’s an argument to be had, one that’s less of a screaming fit and more of a break down from both sides. You tell him through gritted teeth and tears that you know your intuition isn’t wrong: he’s done something, you just aren’t certain what that something is. There’s no outright accusation spoken, but his face immediately grows red and his eyes narrow.

It’s not that he even cares to question why you would think that way. He just wants to know where he’s failed. What is it that you need that he’s not already providing? He takes an awful picture of his cock each time he’s hard and away from you, even follows it up with one of the aftermath of thinking of you. No other woman makes him feel so starved.

He knows he isn’t very romantic; you would probably prefer actual dates instead of watching him train or following along like a cute accessory at the gym. But he brings you flowers, licks your cunt without hesitation, buys you feminine products and chocolate any time that you’re in need of them. Sure, each picnic date ends with your chest pressed against a sturdy tree or your thighs spread atop the patterned blanket, but the confessions hissed into your hair are true. It’s never just been sex, not to him. It’s love, and that’s one word he never seems to shy away from saying. He’s greedy, wouldn’t want something so simple, not after every moment you’ve spent together.

König might not get why you’re so into some new trend or show, but he listens when you talk about them. Or tries, at least. Really, he had no idea why you would bother explaining to him why you prefer a dress with wiry straps over something cozier when he arrives home, but he’s happy to just listen to your voice and shush you with kisses when he doesn’t know how else to respond.

You’re allowed access to his phone any time you like, even shows you his bank account to prove he hasn’t taken some lady a world away off on some expensive shopping trip or spent a curious amount at a pharmacy. In fact…. He’s barely spent anything while away, all of the transactions are from the last time he was on leave or at that cute little shop he had told you about and brought you home some shiny new gift from. There’s nothing suspicious to be found… except for those messages from the woman he tells you is just a recruit.

So… what if you’re just projecting?

To him, his own jealousy is righteous.

König almost looks scary when he’s upset, not that he would ever lay a hand on you. Maybe the coffee table will be in disarray, cleared entirely when the thought of you leaving proves to be far too much. His shirt suffers a few massive tears when he grips at his chest to show you just where you’re hurting him.

You may not have outright accused him, but König can’t hold his tongue when he asks you about this imaginary other man. Is he handsome? Does he buy you nice things? Does he make you come hard? How did you meet and just where does he live? Do you love him…?

König would try his utmost to hold back tears. He feels weak when he cries, and the last thing he wants is for you to view him as fragile. He’s supposed to protect you.

But it’s all gone in a flash. His entire being seems to relax when you explain to him that there is no other man. The unshed tears are wiped away, a heavy sigh leaves him when he rubs at his face. He feels like the worst idiot just stood there blinking in surprise while you’re still pissed, but at least that scenario proves to be untrue.

You just want to understand why he’s entertaining some other woman’s flirtations. Is that what telling some recruit she’s got sharp aim and allowing her to grasp at his arm and admire his muscles is..? He will admit that maybe he’s allowed her too much closeness, even if he never has and never will return her affections.

It baffles him entirely for a moment, slows his tongue enough to have a grin curl at his lips. It’s the most flattering thing in the entire world to think that you desire him so much that the thought of sharing makes you like this. The realization that maybe you’re just as territorial as he is is impossibly cute, makes him twice as obnoxious and overbearing when you’re pulled into his arms.

His voice takes an amused lilt when he asks you just what you want him to do about it. Cut her off? He’ll avoid her entirely if it appeases you. He doesn’t want to hurt a woman that isn’t an actual enemy, so killing her is certainly out of the question, but he can be scary if you would like that. She wouldn’t like him as much if she saw his face. He would remind you that only a silly thing like yourself could ever be keen on it. Your orders are absolute, so long as he still gets a treat in the end.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.2K Warnings: Use of the word fag in a derogatory way. The person that does it gets told off for it. Prompt: After the day you've had, you could really use a drink, if Rem let's you go through with it, at least. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 31: Strange Magic

You walked all the way to the common room as fast as you could, you were hoping your little talk with Reggie hadn’t been so long that it would have Lily and Remus worrying about you. Once you arrived, the lady in the portrait gave you a bit of a scowl. 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” 

You were taken aback. “Me? Whatever did I do?” 

She arched an eyebrow at you, looking rather displeased, “You gave the password to that pretty Slytherin girl and her younger friend.” 

“No,” you said with a head shake. “I’m not friends with the Slytheri–” 

“Hey, Star Seeker!” You heard Minho’s voice from behind. “You gonna let me in or what?” 

You winced at that, the fact that Minho had his quidditch sweater on only aggravating the situation further, the lady gave you a look and you shrugged. “I don’t ascribe to the whole house rivalry we’ve got going on.” 

“That’s right!” Minho said as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “We’re transcendent mates.” 

“What?” You asked, turning to him with a frown. “Transcendent mates!?” 

“You’re telling me «chowol chingu» doesn’t have a literal translation that makes sense in English?” You shook your head, you might have studied many languages, but you had no idea what chowol chingu meant. “Like, umm…” Minho seemed to struggle to find the right words, trying to think of a time when he heard someone say something similar,  “Best chums?” 

“You almost blew my head off in the game today!” 

“Not my fault you were on the other team,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, I wasn’t nearly as bad as Barty.” 

You laughed. “Best chums then, all right,” you said as you shook your head. “Will you let us in?” you said, turning to the lady in the portrait with the same charming smile you used to convince Remus of silly things. 

She pursed her lips, rolled her eyes and took a deep breath before leaning her head down, “Password?” 

You smiled, “Boneless phoenix wings.” 

The portrait opened up like a door and allowed both you and Minho to get in. “It’s so much less hassle to get into my common room,” he said with a sigh. 

You hummed, “Yeah, your brick wall is nice, a lot less talkative, but the Lady on the portrait is a taste you acquire.” 

“How do you know about the brick wall?” He asked, a little confused. “Wait, it was you!” 

“No it wasn’t,” you said with a frown and looked around the room, Tom wasn’t too far. 

“It had to be you, and it makes so much sense omg, you little–” 

“Tom!” you called, the boy turned to you, and you shoved him onto Minho’s face, Minho was terrible at keeping secrets, and you weren’t about to spill the beans about the prank onto him, “Minho was looking for you, go ahead and talk,” You said with a smile before you scurried away. You noticed the blush on Minho’s neck as he threw you a desperate look and you just shrugged and shot him a wink. 

You slipped towards your room, Lily had found some nice clothes for you on the bed, and you smiled and changed into them. It was a pair of snug corduroy pants and a thick sweater. It was stylish and yet simple. You cleaned up and changed into the clothes, walking downstairs trying not to cause too much attention, skidding past some with your head low until you reached the spot where Remus stood. Near the fireplace, with a cup in one hand and a plate in the other, he was wearing a quidditch sweater that fit him snuggly, perhaps a little tight. 

“That’s not yours,” you said when you approached. 

“Sirius gave it to me, said it fit the spirit. Left it with a note on my bed and everything.”  He did not mention what Sirius had written in the note, “Wear it if we win, give it to Vix and cheer her up if we don’t”.

“Romantic,” you joked, Remus rolled his eyes, trying to avoid your gaze. “Suits you well.” 

“Must be for my dashing good looks.” 

“Oh… and it came along with Sirius’ personality.” He chuckled at your joke and finally turned to look at you again, almost allowing himself to get lost in your eyes. “You saved that for me, yeah?”

“In my pockets,” he said, hands still very occupied with food and drink. 

“Which one?”

“Back, left,” he said automatically, not realising you would reach down and grab it “Oi! That’s the right,” he complained as you dug your hand in his pocket, brushing his arse and making him panic slightly. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled and went for the other pocket “Should’ve specified which left.”

“There’s only one left!” he said in disbelief as you pulled the little flask out. 

You shrugged “Never been good at knowing which is which.” 

“Or… you just wanted an excuse to touch my arse.” 

“Oh no!” you said ironically, “You’ve discovered my evil scheme. All I wanted was to get a good feel of those round butt cheeks.” Remus almost choked on his drink from the laugh that got caught in his throat, you smiled and extended the small flask towards him. “Cheers mate,” you said before taking it to your mouth and drinking a few big gulps.

Remus left the plate on the mantle and pulled the flask off your mouth, “Hold up, slow down little witch!” The Firewhiskey was rather strong, he was sure you’d be tipsy in no time.

You looked at him reproachfully, your lips were wet and looked incredibly juicy before you gave them a lick and collected the remnants of alcohol from them, he forced himself to look at your eyes instead “Rem!” you reproached. 

“Uh-uh,” he shook his head as he raised the bottle above his head. “You tell me what this is all about and then I give it back to you.” 

“I just need a drink.” 

“Because of the fall? The monster in the swamp? Whatever you’ve got going on with Nightshade?”

Fucking perceptive werewolf best friend “No.” you said with a loose shake of the head, he realized you were being honest. 

You sighed and reclined against the side of the chimney, staring at him through your lashes with an expression akin to a reprimanded puppy. “Can I please…?” He shook his head and raised an eyebrow expectantly. “I had a talk with Regulus.” 

Remus’ eyes narrowed on you, lowering the flask as he looked at you in shock. “If he said something to you that–” The werewolf seemed about ready to throw punches, even if he didn’t think too bad of Reg in the first place, he also saw in him all the things of Sirius you did. 

But you shook your head, and he could see the contrition in your eyes, “He didn’t rat us out.” 

Remus tilted his head to the side, just a little, prompting you to continue. You let out another deep breath and looked to the side “So then how did…?” 

“He said they got an owl,” you explained, “Must have been the creepy wizard from ‘El Maleficio', I get chills from the memory.” 

“That’s the muggle but then not actually muggle magic shop, correct?” 

“Where we bought the animagus recipe and this,” you said as you pulled out the necklace Sirius had given you.

“He still has the mark from it.” 

“The mark?” you asked with a frown.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Remus wasn’t sure if telling you about the bIood magic linked to it was a good idea, “So the man sent a note.” 

You shut your eyes at that, and your frown deepened. “They asked Regulus, he lied and then they– they gave him veritaserum.” 

“Oh.”

“And then there was the letter–” 

“The one you burned down.” 

You nodded, “I hadn’t gotten a reply to any of the letters I sent to Sirius and I was angry and sad and–” you sighed, “he said the letter explained it all.  Poor Regulus thought I was mad at him even if I knew– And I’ve been treating him like dog shit…” You let your head fall back with a groan. It crashed onto the wall, a little loud for Remus’ enhanced hearing and he worried. 

“It was a situational thing.” 

“I could’ve been more rational,” you said as you opened your eyes again, a reproachful tone directed straight at yourself. “Attempt to be a decent person–” 

“You’re already one of the nicest people I know,” he said “Stupid selfless if you ask me.” 

You threw him a look, a half-smile on your lips “I’m not selfless.” 

“Says the girl that was ready to be eaten…” 

“I wasn’t ready to be eaten! I was thinking of a different approach!” He raised an eyebrow and you pushed him back playfully, “Can I please, please get my flask back?” 

“Drinking your sorrows away is not a great habit.” 

“What do you mean sorrows? I caught the snitch, I should be celebrating!” 

He took a long sip of the firewhiskey before passing it over to you. “Don’t gulp it down again,” he warned. 

“Ugh, you’re such a mom,” you replied as you took a sip.

“A mom?!? Not a dad?” 

“Daddy maybe,” you snickered, he rolled his eyes at you but smiled regardless.

At some point, Marlene discovered you in the corner and dragged you to dance with her, you barely had time to hand the flask to Remus before she was prompting you to shake around in the improvised dance floor. After a while, you started to feel the strain in your shoulder and decided to lie down instead. But you were stopped by Nox, who waved at you from the side to get closer. 

“Hi!” you greeted, “Glad you and Comet made it.” 

He nodded in response and then hesitated as if he wanted to say something “Do you,” he scratched the back of his head, “Fucking Neil, I’m getting him for this,” he mumbled. “You see, some kids from my class and a few others who’ve joined decided to make a mini quidditch game.” You hummed in response. “Each of the teams we formed will be allowed to invite one of the pros to the game.” 

“One of the pros?” you asked, an eyebrow quirked. 

He nodded, “Yeah, one of the members of the quidditch teams…” he took a deep breath. “Would you… would you like to be in our team?” he asked.

You simply nodded, “Sure!”  The fact that James wouldn’t be too happy about you over-exerting yourself didn’t even cross our mind “Who’s the other player?” 

“It’s Alex Wood,” he told you “You’re friends, right?” 

You nodded, “It’ll be nice to see him as a keeper before the official game.” 

Nox shook his head “Oh no, he’s… he’s not going to be a keeper, he’ll play chaser.” 

“Really?” You asked, a little shocked. 

“Yeah, it was part of the rules, so the game was more balanced. We were thinking of making you a seeker, but well, it wouldn’t be very balanced, would it?” 

You raised your eyebrows “If that’s your way of complimenting my seeker skills Nox, I’ll take it gladly. Especially from a Slytherin.” 

“As if you needed more compliments than you already have,” he scoffed. “Anyway, how do you feel about being a chaser, or a beater?” 

“Well…” you said, rolling your wounded shoulder unconsciously.

“Can’t do beater sorry,” Sirius said as he wrapped one of his arms around you, placing his hand near enough your wound, not to hurt you, but to remind you. “She needs some time to recover after the fall.” 

“Puppy you’re back!” you said as you leaned onto him. “How was detention?” 

“Humdrum, as you’d expect,” he replied, not giving it too much thought. “If you need a beater I could fill in for her.” 

“Oh no,” Nox shook his head calmly. “She can be a chaser, it’d better actually, I believe, Solacis wanted to be a beater.” 

Sirius tilted his head, and Nox swallowed “Anyway, that was what I wanted to ask, I’ll give you more details about the game during the week,” he said before scurrying off. 

You turned to Sirius, “You threw him the look.” 

“You shouldn’t be playing quidditch,” he responded simply and squeezed your arm a little. “You should be resting instead.” 

You shrugged, “We won.” 

He nodded “Peter told me,” he said with a slightly displeased nod and leaned the butterbeer he had in his hand towards you, “Want some?” 

You took it from his hand and gave it a sip, “Did he tell you about…” 

“The way you fucking jumped off your broom? Of course, he did.” 

“Nosy little rat,” you mumbled. 

“And you think I wouldn’t have found out?!?” 

You shrugged. “I didn’t jump off, by the way… My broom was being coursed, I would have fallen down regardless, I just thought I’d have higher chances of getting the snitch if I leapt towards it.”

“And your counter jinx didn’t work?” 

“What?” You asked, head snapping his way, eyes opened wide.

“Your counter Jinx? I assume it wasn’t working because–“ he noticed the surprise on your face. “You did try to use a counter jinx before jumping off your broom, right?” You looked at him, dazed.  “Starshine…” 

You gave him an apologetic look, “I guess I just didn’t… I needed to get the snitch.” 

He groaned, laying his head on your shoulder. “You do know counter jinxes, right luv?” he asked, turning to look at you, still from the crook of your neck, his breath tickling over your soft skin. 

 You swallowed, the closeness making you nervous. “Well… I mean I know a few, not a specific one but–”

“I know a couple, I’ll teach you,” he said determinedly. “We’ll practise next time we go flying with James, I’ll be trying to throw you off and you’ll have to counter it. It’s advanced wandless magic, but if anyone can master it, it’s you.” 

You leaned down and gave him a small peck on the temple, “Thanks Pups.” 

“Pas de problème,” he said simply. 

“Sirius we need to move,” James said as he gripped your boyfriend from his jacket and hauled him off your shoulder. 

Your boyfriend groaned at the loss of your touch, “James, next time you cockblock me like this I will hex you.” 

“McGonagall is coming,” James said simply.  Sirius’ breath hitched. 

“What’s wrong with that?” you asked. 

“She gave us specific instructions to go straight to our room,” Sirius explained.  “Said if we didn’t, we’d be in detention for a lot longer.”  

“Invisibility cloak?” you asked looking at James, he shook his head and you took your wand out, disillusioning them both at the same time, “Go, I’ll distract her.” 

“Thanks, Vix,” you heard James say quietly.

Then felt a hot breath on your shoulder. “On the hideout we used for Marlene’s party after Maggie’s gone to check our room, I’ll take the cloak.” 

You turned to him with a smirk, even if you couldn’t see him, and nodded. Then you moved towards McGonagall, who was looking around the heads of students in the common room. 

”Professor!” You called, she turned to you, hesitant, as if she still needed to find something, “Professor I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” 

She sighed and turned to you, “Yes, darling?” 

You smiled at her, charming and apologetic, “If I’m distracting you then–” 

She shook her head, almost feeling bad at herself for not giving you the necessary attention, “Are you alright? That was– it was a nasty fall you took on,” she grimaced. 

And then you remembered, she was going to be a professional player but fell off her broom and got injured, you instantly felt bad, your fall must have brought back a lot of memories, “I am,” you responded quickly and changed the subject. “But it’s… It’s actually about transfiguration… I thought you would ask Remus to help me with tutoring?” 

She looked at you a little taken aback, “You didn’t ask him yourself?” 

You shook your head “I should have?”  

“Well, since you were in classes together. And you seem to be really close, I assumed you had already… Never mind, would you like me to ask him?” 

“Uh… no, no, I suppose I can just do it myself.” She frowned but nodded, and then gave a step as if to go back to searching “Wait!” you said, a little worried James hadn’t gotten to his room yet. 

“I’m…” fuck what do I even say, “I’d like to know about contraceptive potions.” The professor seemed visibly scandalised at your question, “For a friend,” you added meekly. 

She gave you a rather stern look, I’ve fucked it up, I’ve fucked it up, but McGonagall just sighed and nodded. “It’s only natural to be curious about this stuff,” she started approaching the subject in a rather neutral and tentative tone. I really fucked it up. “Especially when it’s not a subject included in the curriculum. And believe me, I have been trying to include it for the longest time.” 

You held back a gasp, looking at her surprised, “Wait, really?” 

She nodded, “Generally I gather the Gryffindors in the last year to teach them the basics before they go out in the world but I suppose since you’re dating Mr. Black, and Merlin knows that boy is rather… eager–” You winced, way to throw poor Sirius under the bus. You already knew how to brew the potion, you’d gotten the recipe from a book Marlene had borrowed, given to her by her older sister, and you certainly didn’t expect to have that kind of talk with Minnie, but you had to pull through, for your friends. “So I suppose you could come to our next meeting, of course you’d have to get a letter from your parents stating you can do so, since you’re still under age.” 

You nodded, trying to settle the small frown that had formed on your face. Now you’d have to find a way to fake a letter from your mom or something, “Of course,” you said, “thank you very much, Professor McGonagall.” 

She gave you a look and sighed again, “Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

You realised you were still blocking her way, and you shook your head “No, no… I’m sorry,” you responded and moved out of her way, looking at the way she disappeared through the stairs. You took a deep breath and sat on one of the sofas. Head laying back as you processed what had happened until you felt the pressure shift beneath you. 

You turned to the side and smiled when you spotted him, he had a glass of something that smelled alcoholic in his left hand “Hey Pete!” 

“You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Must have hurt.”

“Prick!” He said with a laugh as he shoved you with his shoulder and then proceeded, “When I was 10 my parents got me my own cat.” He said. You knew he was going to continue talking so you let him. “And we rubbed the kitten on my sister’s older cat so she would accept it as part of their family.”

You nodded, frowning a little as you tried to process what he’d said “I don’t have a kitten.” 

He frowned and then realised his statement might have been a little ambiguous. “Oh, well… I mean, you know how Moony chased you fiercely last moon and he’d been chasing after you earlier too. Like, in the previous moons he’d been absolutely relentless, wanting to get in the castle, almost impossible for Padfoot and Prongs to control. I think… well I think it might be because of the way you smell? I mean I’m not nearly as good as Pads with the sense of smell but… you do have a rather strong scent.”  

Your frown deepened. Strong scent? “Should I be offended?” 

He shook his head quickly “NO! I don’t mean to say that you smell bad!” He was stumbling with his words “I’m just saying it’s distinctive… especially for us, probably a lot more for them since they’re canines too.” 

 “So… bottom line is, you’re saying I should go rub myself into Remus?!” You asked incredulously. He flushed. But then you thought about it. It wasn’t that far-fetched… “I’m around you guys all the time, the smell should already be there already anyway, right? Didn’t seem to help last Monday either.”

Peter shook his head “You’re not around us in animagi form.” 

“Oh, so I’m supposed to turn into a fox and then go rub on Remus? Cross my paws he doesn’t eat me on the spot?” 

“Not Remus! You could rub on Padfoot or- Prongs…. I’d say me but I’m way too small,” He explained “That would give you the smell of the pack.” 

“Right…” you trailed off “And that would work? As in, if I go around, trying to get Sirius’ scent all over me, the wolf won’t try to eat me next time he sees me?”

“It’s worth a shot?” Peter said with a shrug “I mean it’s that or he’ll keep looking for you. You know once a werewolf catches a scent it’s… impossible to stop it. And you’re dating Sirius anyway, so take it as quality bonding time.”

You reclined on the sofa, trying to take all the new information in, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Perhaps it really could work. Remus sat beside you a little after “Saw you talk to Minnie, everything all right?” 

You groaned at that, letting your head fall back again as you reached for the flask in his hand and brought it to your lips, taking a sip and feeling the taste burn your throat. You sighed, “I need to falsify a letter from my mum.” 

Remus raised an eyebrow “Why?” 

“I asked Professor McGonagall about contraceptive potions,” you said reluctantly, as you shut your eyes. 

Peter, who seemed shocked, was the one to speak next “Oi? Yes I’m coming!” he said as if someone had called him and then stood up and fled. 

Remus on the other side, had tensed, but you were way too fucking preoccupied with the memory to notice. “For you and Sirius…” he acknowledged, almost bitterly, “we could’ve gotten them in the restricted section,” he added, trying exceptionally hard not to clench his jaw.

You turned to him in shock, “What?! I didn’t ask because I needed them! I needed to distract Maggie so Prongs and Pads could run off to their room, couldn’t think of anything better. I already have the recipe anyway, Ma– it was given to me.”

“Oh,” he managed to say then, as if your answer made the whole thing better. “You want help with it?” 

“With what? The fake letter or brewing the potion?” You asked, diverted. 

Remus shrugged, managing to slip back into a chiller demeanour somehow “Both?” 

You laughed, “That’s incredibly kind of you Rem,” you responded. “I’ll tell you when I require help… For now, though, I just need a drink,” you said as you took another sip and then remembered the conversation with Maggie again “Ugh, she now thinks we’re nothing but horny teenagers.” 

“She’s not wrong,” he teased with a smile and you elbowed him in response.

“Arse.” 

You then felt a tug at your hair, you turned around and there was nothing. You narrowed your eyes but took another sip. And then you felt it again. You knew who it was in an instant and stood up. 

“You leaving?” He asked as you did, not being able to mask his disappointment, even just having you beside him made him feel better. 

“Mhm,” you said as you bit your lip, not wanting to prove his point, “I’ll go get some snacks, want some?” 

He shook his head, and you started walking to the hideout. Sirius was just behind you, using the cloak to hide, his hand firmly pressed to your shoulder. You looked back, and then the two of you attempted to slide inside the tight passage, but there were already two people inside. And those two people were snogging. You pulled back, stepping on the cloak and causing it to fall from Sirius’ shoulders. The four of you staring at each other in complete shock. Two of which were a lot more mortified than the rest. 

You, being distracted by the situation, did not feel the way Sirius’s hand on your shoulder tensed. And since your back was to him, you also didn’t notice the way his eyes had gone wide or the way his breath hitched on his throat. 

“Oh hey Sly Sprite, wanna join in?” Tom joked as he stared at you, Sirius, somehow overcoming the initial shock gave him a murderous look, the same he had used on Nox earlier, the Black family scowl, but it seemed to have no effect on the boy. “You can join too handsome,” he winked. Earning a slap on the shoulder from Minho.

Sirius, who had been enthralled in the sight, was instantly taken aback by Tom’s words as you spoke, “Sorry to bother you boys, we’ll find a different place to snog.” You had a very apologetic look on your face as you grabbed the cloak from the floor but Minho grabbed onto your arm, eyes pleading. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him,” you told him, “Not a soul will find out.” 

“You promise?” He asked, still apprehensive. Tom, who had looked diverted up until that point, seemed to understand the delicacy of the subject for Minho, and placed a hand on his upper arm reassuringly. 

“Sirius is trustworthy, as much as Sly Sprite, no one will know unless you want it,” Tom said, he was now rubbing Minho’s arm reassuringly.  

“Yes, that’s true,” you agreed, “I’ll talk to him Min, just enjoy yourself, and um… maybe put a spell up so this doesn’t happen again.” You then grabbed Sirius by the arm, and covered the two of you with the cloak.

Minutes stretched into silence as you and Sirius moved away from the spectacle, the sounds of the party fading into the background as you pulled him towards a different direction. 

Up until then, Sirius Black had never seen two boys kiss. And he was experiencing things he was so not supposed to be experiencing after it. You were still dragging him towards a different section, your hand intertwined with his as you sorted through people, as he stared blankly ahead. You didn’t stop until you were both hidden on a small section near the back of the spiral staircase that you knew was also another snogging spot, but a lot less used because of how cramped it was. You didn’t mind being so close to Sirius though, you never had.

“Tom and Minho, they’re… fags?” he said once you cast a muffliato around the two of you.

“That’s an awful word to use,” you reprimanded with a frown, Sirius seemed to be taken aback by it. 

“Gay.” 

You tilted your head, making a rather unconvinced hm, that just seemed to confuse Sirius even more, the scene of Tom and Minho kissing replying on his head over and over and over again, sometimes with them, sometimes with different people being the ones kissing. That was the one that scared him the most. 

“Well, technically Tom is Bi but–” 

“By? By what?” 

“Bisexual… or pan I think.” Your brain was a bit cloudy with how much you’d had to drink, and you were so not expecting to have this conversation with Sirius “He just doesn’t give a fuck about gender.” 

“And Minho?”

“I think he only likes boys, but I’m not sure, we didn’t talk much about it.” You admitted with a shrug “As you can see it’s a rather delicate subject for him.” 

“And you knew? About both of them,” he said with a frown. “Why did you know?” 

You shrugged, “Tom told me, with Minho I sort of guessed, and he spilled the beans about… never mind. You are aware absolutely no one can find out about that, right?” 

“But why? Rock singers… they too– I mean. Why do they hide it?”

“Cause people will start calling them fags if they don’t,” you said as if it were obvious. “Sirius if you were gay you wouldn’t go out and announce it to the entire world.” And then you thought about your words, and let a long sigh escape your lips “or perhaps you actually would.” 

Sirius seemed to think about it for a moment but didn’t say a thing. “So you can like men and women at the same time?” he asked, brow furrowing as he tried to process the information. Of the entire conversation, that had somehow slipped into his brain, and it would mull it over and over again since you mentioned it. He didn’t know. 

“Yeah,” you responded with a shrug, “I like girls too, sometimes,” you were not expecting to admit that to your boyfriend, but apparently that firewhiskey had been strong enough to let it slip by.

Sirius was surprised by that revelation, so surprised he almost let go of the initial wave of shock that had gone over him and the images that would play on his brain over and over again. Of Remus in the library, of him and Remus in the library. 

His initial reaction faded into a warm smile, and he chuckled lightly, this new discovery about you allowing him to forgo his thoughts only for a second, and mask them with humour, like he was accustomed to, "Well, that's interesting. Any particular stories you'd like to share?" He had an eyebrow raised, a cheeky smile on his lips. 

“Sirius.” You admonished. 

He shrugged, “What, it’s kind of hot.” 

You huffed out a laugh and turned to the side before looking back at him, half diverted that such a revelation garnered said reaction. Perhaps you should have expected it, you were dating Sirius Black after all. 

If you had been a little less drunk, and a little less tired from the fall just hours ago, perhaps you would have noticed the way Sirius’ eyes moved rapidly from one side to the other as he was thinking, how he asked about bisexuality with such a careful, and controlled tone, as if trying to sound casual and hoping his nerves wouldn’t betray his thoughts. You would have seen the way you stated you were also bi, had given him a sense of reassurance. As if his thoughts were somehow a little more acceptable now.

But you were exhausted, the fall, the talk with Regulus –that you still had to mention to Sirius– the talk with McGonagall, you were barely holding yourself together at that point. With so many things weighing over your shoulders, too preoccupied with Minho being found out and McGonagall’s thoughts of you that you missed most of it. Letting yourself be easily fooled by Sirius’ half smile and flirty wink.

Eventually, you turned your head back, looking at him straight in the eyes, and adopting a more grave tone “Sirius, nobody will know of what happened in that closet except for the two of us, deal? Not James, not Peter–” 

“Not Moony–” he finished. 

You were about to tell him Remus knew but thought better of it, Sirius was so naturally curious he’d want to know why he did, and there was no good way of explaining it.

“Yes,” you confirmed. 

“Okay,” he said simply. “No one will know.”

And then there was silence, something between a rather awkward situation and both of you deep in your thoughts. Sirius’ mind slipping back to the library, and the images of things that had never happened and could never happen, because he loved you. He was certain of that, and whatever the hell was going on in his brain must have been nothing more than his overactive imagination thinking of silly things. Silly tall things with big broad shoulders and brown-golden eyes. Silly things that smelled of books, chocolate and sometimes cigarette smoke. Silly things that he shouldn’t be thinking about but his stupid brain insisted on putting at the forefront of his head. 

You had, at some point, gravitated towards him, letting your head fall on his shoulder with a sigh, but didn’t say anything more. He found he liked you being close to him like that. Even if you weren’t kissing, he always liked having you close, holding your hands, or giving you hugs, and you had always been eager to return those affections. 

You were perfect, from your smaller frame to the way your breath tickled his neck, from the way your hands intertwined with his to the tip of your shoes clashing against his own. He looked down at you, at your eyes shut, resting on his shoulder, your lashes curling upwards and making you look absolutely angelic, he was sure it was one of the prettiest sights of his life, and yet his mind insisted on switching, the perfect image of you laying on his shoulder replaced by flashes of a taller figure in the library.

To his taller frame and his light brown lashes, to his warm breath and the way his large hand had covered his mouth. It was silly, you were perfect, and Sirius was sure, undoubtedly sure that he loved you like he hadn’t loved anyone in his entire life and yet, he kept thinking of him.

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he barely realised when you let out a long and silent yawn, let alone when the rhythm of your breath steadied or when your body slumped slightly a little more into his. Only noticing when you let out the lightest, most heart-warming snore he’d ever heard. He turned to you, your peaceful sleeping figure, and smiled at himself, admiring the way your eyes would tremble slightly, and the way your cheek pressed against his shoulder forcing your mouth into the tiniest of pouts. 

He chuckled “ Starshine! Did you fall asleep?” he teased. 

Your eyes opened up slowly, a frown etched on your face as you looked up to him. “No,” you lied shamelessly before yawning. Sirius’s little smirk just grew a tinge more. 

“Come on,” he said as he patted you on the arm. “You should get some sleep, you must be really tired.” 

You shook your head, or attempted to do it at least, only managing to shake it a little “I wanna be at the party… I wanna be with you.” 

Sirius could tell you were a lot more sleep than awake, especially since you were complaining like a toddler, he wished he could get you on recording. “I can’t be at the party,” he reminded you softly, his deep voice echoing in your ears soothingly. 

“Then just with you. I like it here.” 

“In the cramped space under the stairs?” 

You nodded with a confirming hum, “You’re warm.” 

Sirius nuzzled his head into yours and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “If the fall is not making your bones creak by the morning, then sleeping while standing up in the most cramped little snogging hole in the entire common room will, come on, let’s get you to your room.” 

Your frown deepened “Party popper.” 

Sirius had never been called a party popper in his entire life, in fact, he’d go as far as to say he was always the life of the party. But eventually, you woke yourself enough to pull back and stare at him, your eyes still hooded with sleep and tiredness, not having had a minute of relaxation in almost the entire day, and being close to Sirius had somehow gotten you to let all your walls down and rest, maybe it was the dog in him, like a service dog or something. 

“You’re cute,” you said suddenly, and Sirius was so surprised that he went red. “Really cute,” you added with a satisfied smile. 

He chuckled a little afterwards, “I’m going to start thinking you’re not only sleepy but also seriously drunk.” 

You frowned, and yawned again “I’m neither,” you insisted. 

Gently, Sirius wrapped the cloak around the two of you and guided you up the stairs, you had leaned your head on his shoulder and drifted between sleep and awake a couple of times as he walked you up the staircase. When you were finally in your room he gave you another look, you lifted your head from his shoulder and tilted it the other way “What’re you looking at?” 

“At my stunning girlfriend,” he responded 

“Mhm?” 

“Mhm,” he confirmed, “go to bed now, you’ll feel like shit in the morning. I’ll tell James you’re not flying–” 

“I AM flying!” You complained, waking up enough to argue.

“You’ll have a hangover tomorrow–” 

“I had only like–” you counted with your fingers, but gave up after you finished with one of your hands, “A few sips.” 

“You’re a lightweight then, go to bed.” 

You scoffed, “Sirius Black, if you’re gone by the time I walk down in the morning because you convinced Prongs that I’m not coming, I’ll wake up Remus and tell him it’s your fault.” 

“Remus?” 

You nodded, “He gets pissed if he doesn’t sleep his hours and you’re working on your magical theory project with him tomorrow, he’ll be pissy and make you work extra.” 

Sirius frowned, “You little minx!” 

You gave him a satisfied smile, “So keep that in mind before leaving tomorrow. Besides, you promised we would practise counterspells.”

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A/N: Well, the cat's outta the bag. A few chapters ago you were talking about Sirius figuring out Vixen is bi and I had already written this chapter, I kid you not, it was so hard to keep my mouth shut hehe. Side note: more of Sirius' gay panic, it's one of my favourite things to write ngl.

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[antiquatedplumbobs]

Spring 1916

~an excerpt from Elsie Sewell's private diary~

Spring has arrived! The calendar has been saying it had been here for weeks, but today it really and truly made its presence known. The east field is awash with flowers and I simply had to stop and pick a bouquet, they had the sweetest scent and the most delicate yellow petals. Mamma was rather irritated that it made me a bit late coming home, but I can't very much see why. I was back with plenty of time to prepare supper (she had an Aide Society meeting) and the house smelled ever so sweet as I did. No one complained about my victual offerings either.

I am quite pleased to be done with the schoolhouse; sums and grammar were always ever so boring and pointless. It is ever so much better to spend the day with work that actually has to be done, rather than made up to torture us. I enjoy most housework, cooking and sewing in particular, but laundry... There's something about that specific task I have not yet resigned myself too.

I think we all have that particular chore that we dislike more than the others, though none of the adults will admit so to my face. Laundry is a necessary evil though, or we should all go around naked, as Adam and Eve did in the garden of Eden, and the climate her could never allow such an indulgence, so laundry we must do. 

It does feel good to be helping around the house more and take some of the burden off Mamma; I can't imagine how she did all this work on her own for years, it's quite a lot between the two of us. Despite my continued propensity to "dawdle" as Mamma puts it, she still sends me on all the errands, I think she likes having the house to herself just as much I like the walk into town. Sometimes Lydia accompanies me if her mother also needs something fetched.

The general store is the best store in town, it's filled floor to ceiling with everything you could ever need. Dottie's always mighty pleased to see us and if she's busy Mr. and Mrs. Greenfield are always so sweet to me. Sometimes Mr. Greenfield slips me penny candy in with my orders with a little wink.

Dottie, Lydia and I don't see each other as much as when we were in school, but now that we're older when we're finished with chores and housework we have so much more freedom to go on walks or sit down by the inlet. The sun hits the old dock down there in the afternoon and it's so pleasant, especially if there's a breeze coming off the water.

We chat about anything and everything; Dottie always has all the news of the town since she talks to just about everyone at the general store. Mamma says it's wrong to gossip, but she always says that after I've given her all the news. Lydia is such a hoot, she has the strongest opinions on everything and everyone. Just the other day she was informing (lecturing one might say) us on the proper etiquette for accepting a proposal; according to Mrs. Parr proper young ladies should never accept their first proposal, they must refuse and wait for the man to ask again, that's how she'll know he's serious and will make a good husband. Apparently she turned Mr. Parr down thrice. Dottie and I both thought that was completely silly. Mamma said yes to her first proposal and she seems quite content with her lot.

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

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[stardewremixed]

First Kiss with Shane

@hellhoundmaggie requested a first kiss scene with Shane. He was the first guy I romanced in SDV, mostly because it was easy to in the beginning and I wanted that first-year flower dance so badly. 😂 🌸

🎈 In case you missed it - First Kiss with Harvey. 🎈

While Harvey holds a special place in my heart and is generally my go-to husbando, I didn’t want to leave my “first SDV squeeze” in the lurch. I’m trying to expand my experience with writing romance in general. Hope you enjoy. It’s a freakin’ novella. Haha. I don’t do short, and I wanted to show how he fell in love with the Farmer, and she with him. 

This is female farmer x Shane = first kiss. This one might be a little more PG. 

😉❤️‍🔥🔥

Sweaty palms. Greasy hair. Chubby cheeks and legs. Is this what she sees in me?

Shane stared bleakly at his own reflection in the refrigerator door. It was quiet. Nearly noiseless in the back aisle of the stark JojaMart. A lull in the daily traffic around 4pm on the dot. When his shift ended.

Shane pressed his forehead against the glass, grumbling to himself about his infinite lack of progress on losing weight. Ever since he started going to therapy and quit drinking, he felt confident that his life would turn around. Like magic.

However, life outside the rehabilitation center was much harder than he remembered. He was still stuck in the same dead-end job. He was still bumming a room off his aunt with his piddly rent And he was still rather plump around his abdomen. 

Every time Morris ordered him around, in that pompous high London accent, Shane wanted to give up. To give in. To snatch a beer outta the cooler and gulp away his frustrations.

Instead, he settled for cussing under his breath, and resolving to keep his head down. At least until he could find another job. No one seemed to be hiring in this dying town. The recession was still hitting hard. And he knew he was lucky to get his old job back after nine months in detox and rehab.

It was worth it. It would be worth it. He convinced himself as he puffed a lazy strand of hair out of his eye and continued stocking cartons of overprocessed milk, nothing like his aunt’s fresh bottles or the farmer’s delicious cheeses. 

While he was still grossly underpaid, Shane worked out the math. In six more checks, he could repay her. The Jolly Rancher. Just thinking about his silly little nickname for the farmer lady to the north gave him a warm feeling. The kind that alcohol used to give him, only better, more real. Her smile was sweet.

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When she first arrived in town, Shane genuinely disliked her. All her bubbly, bouncy, jolly persona encroaching on his flat, boring, grumpy existence. He had cultivated a philosophy of "me myself and I" and was perfectly content being alone, sulking into a pitcher of beer at the end of the night. But not really…

Her jovialty grew on him, especially when he would see her around town, helping people out. At first, he figured she was just another city do-gooder come to convert the backwater people to a more modern lifestyle. But her joy and kindness was genuine. Even when he yelled at her to go away, she still murmured a heartfelt apology for disturbing him and then brought him freshly grown peppers or tomatoes the next day like nothing had ever happened.

The Farmer purchased cows from Marnie so she could make her own specialty dairy products. He was seriously impressed. Because what city girl just ups and buys cattle? 

Sometimes when he was restlessly tossing and turning in bed (and if was honest, lonely), Shane would wander around in the wee pre-dawn hours. He always seemed to make his way to her ranch. Most of the time, she was out in the barn milking the cows and talking to them like they were her babies, with just a lantern illuminating her soft face. She was so beautiful. 

Raising cattle was no simple task. He knew this from watching his aunt. And Marnie had horses, pigs, goats, rabbits and chickens to think of too. He wasn't sure if the new rancher in town, with little to no experience (save her degree in veterinary medicine), was stupid or brave. Over time, he determined she was the latter.

Out searching for a lost cow in a thunderstorm. Not thinking about her own welfare. Only wanting to reunite a terrified animal with its herd. 

Fixing fences after wolves knocked down the back posts time and time again. Her fingers bleeding and scarred because of her lack of self-awareness sometimes. And chasing of “’dem there wolves” with sheer willpower... and... a big stick. 

Rebuilding the barn from scratch when a wildfire spread down from the mountains. She saved every single one of those animals. And needing treatment for smoke inhalation because she went back in for the tiniest frightened newborn. 

He remembered the time she got kicked in the head by one of the cows. Shane was so worried about her, even if he wouldn’t admit it when he carried her to the Clinic. Thankfully, it was only a minor concussion. (And it was an excuse for him to deliver Marnie's special basket of goodies to her twice daily so she didn't have to worry about feeding herself during her recovery). 

The rancher struggled for a whole year, after arriving in the Valley. But even when things went wrong, she was up and back at it the next morning with a lightness in her heart and step. It. Was. Admirable.

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Shane resolved to do better. To be better. She made him think about how things could be different if he wasn't a self-sabotaging jerkwad. The number of times she dragged his sorry ass home after getting plastered at the Saloon was too high to count, even if it was out of her way, even if she said she didn't mind. She wanted him to be okay. To be safe. She said so.

And she half pushed, half dragged him to the Clinic the night things got really dark. When he faced the edge of the cliff and thought "No more!" When he thought death would be a welcome reprieve from his pathetic life. 

She never judged him. She didn't enable him like his aunt. She didn't fall apart into a puddle of tears like Jas. She didn't lecture him on the evils of his ways while twirling his moustache like Harvey. Okay. Shane chuckled to himself. Maybe that last part was an exaggeration and unfair to the good doctor.

She. Simply. Cared. 

Through her actions. 

In the beginning, it was little things. A happy hello. A robust handwave. Then she started pulling up a barstool next to him in the Stardrop. She would ask him about his day and he would always answer the same way. But "go away" somehow morphed into a sarcastic "just peachy" and then eventually a half-hearted "fine, you can sit there." Once she jokingly called him Peaches. 

He didn't want to be bothered with her questions and idle chatter. He didn't want to listen to her ranching successes and woes, retold in a much-too-chipper voice. He didn't want to know about Bluebell and Daffodil and Daisy, how Mister Munster was nursing a hoof injury and how Mrs. Butters was expecting her second calf. Why did she think he cared about such details?

But it grew on him. Those rosy, ruddy cheeks, enjoying a hard-earned glass of whatever Gus had on tap. The way her eyes lit up and sparkled when she talked about her animal friends. The way her pale pink lips pouted when she lost a game of Journey of the Prairie King in the saloon arcade. Again. 

Shane found himself drawn to her energy. And he found himself missing her on the nights she didn't stop into the Saloon. Which was a rarity, but did happen.

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Shane knew she was someone special when he would watch the entrance door, breath caught, hoping she would breeze through, and then she didn't. Two days in a row. He started to feel disappointed, but brushed it off. Three days. He started to get concerned. On the fourth night, he went looking for her. And that's when he learned she was sick.

He practically broke down her door when she didn’t answer. 

“Aww you were worried,” she laughed weakly, and coughed. 

She looked rather pitiful, bundled under the blankets, hair sticking to her cheek, eyes droopy and dark. She thought Marnie would have told him. His aunt had sent a few of her ranch hands to help their neighbor out while she was under the weather. so her cattle weren’t forgotten 

No, Marnie never did. He suspected it was because she didn't know it would matter to him. But it did matter. She. Did. Matter. 

Without a word, Shane went to the kitchen and returned with a cool towel. He didn't even think. He laid the back of his large hand against her delicate forehead. He could've sworn the little Miss Jolly Rancher blushed. Or maybe it was the slight fever she was running. She audibly sighed as he placed the wet cloth against her burning cheek, closing her eyes and mumbling her thanks.

He wanted to know the last time she ate. She grunted and said something about some cereal earlier that morning. She didn't know for sure. She had slept most of the day. He promised he would be right back. 

She told him not to bother, as she struggled to lift her body off the bed, propping up by a shaky elbow. He insisted she lie back down. She was a stubborn one. Her protestations didn't last long as her head was too foggy to think straight. He microwaved a bowl of soup. She tried to sit up again, and he fluffed her pillows so she could prop up.

Her grip on the spoon wasn't firm, her trembling hands an indication of just how weak she was. So he caught the escaping silverware and lifted the soup to her lips. She turned red as a hot pepper, but he eased her with a surprisingly tender words, "Please. Let me take care of you for once, Miss Jolly." His own face and ears were probably red too. But she accepted.

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Since then, he began the habit of calling her "Miss Jolly." She flushed every time, but he enjoyed flustering her. It was nice… to care… about… someone.

She returned the “favor” and called him Peaches. At first, jokingly, just to annoy him. But over time, even the ridiculous fruity nickname grew on him. She was invading his thoughts and heart and he couldn’t stop her. 

He knew he had to change. He had to get better. Alcoholism was a disease that had ravaged his life and he was ready for something better. He couldn’t live like he had been any longer. She had changed everything for him. And he wanted to change in return. 

Disappointment smacked cold. He had researched so many places. But the one place that seemed to fit his needs and desired treatment plan was out of reach. Prohibitively expensive. He sold his dad’s watch. His car. He worked longer hours. Maybe in a few years he could make up the difference. 

She knew how much he wanted this... and how badly he needed this. Every glance at his savings account wanted to drive him to the bottle, the hopelessness of a solution just out of reach because of his crappy medical insurance. They wouldn’t cover it. Even though he was pretty sure Joja was the reason he drank so heavily. 

No, that wasn’t true. It was his own insurmountable guilt. Of surviving the accident. When they didn’t. Of leaving Jas without a respectable father figure. Or a mother. He didn’t even fight when the courts wanted to give him jail time. 

His aunt got a lawyer and gave him a place to stay when he got out. She helped him put together a resume and practically shoved the application for overnight backroom clerk in his hands. He had to face the music. He wasn’t cut out for any other job. And it was basically a glorified “stock boy.” 

Approaching middle-age, recently released from prison, and overwhelmed with a crushing lack of self worth, Shane interviewed and got the job. He should be grateful. But the hours were grueling and monotonous. Customers were rude. Employees were ruder. Except that Sam kid. He was a ball of sunshine. And his boss was sucking the life outta him. 

So he drank. He drank to forget. Because he couldn’t forgive himself. And every time he looked at Jas’ little pained expression, he drank more because he felt... so... damn... worthless. 

The Rancher changed things for him. He felt more positive. He got up earlier. He brushed his teeth. He combed his hair. He put on his uniform for the world’s lousiest low-paying job and went to work hoping things would be better. 

Faced with the inability to actually “get better” was... frankly... terrifying. What if he went back to being that same old pathetic blob of a human again? After ten agonizing days, he finally confided in the one person he knew he could trust. His “Miss Jolly.” 

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He couldn’t believe he had been moved to tears. She surprised him... again. With her thoughtful generosity and selflessness. She promised to pay for the difference. Whatever he couldn’t afford. She told him it wasn’t a big deal. It was a VERY BIG deal! She still had some of the inheritance money from her grandfather. What she hadn’t spent on fixing up the farm. 

“So I don’t get those gingham curtains I’ve had my eyes on for the past month,” she quipped. 

It was serious. He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t accept it. It was too much. He didn’t like the idea of being indebted. He was stubborn. He could refuse. 

But she was more stubborn. She insisted it would be a loan, not a gift. He could pay it off over time. Without interest. Or he could work it off - sweat equity - on her ranch. Maybe with those chickens he liked so much. 

In the end, he caved. He packed up what little he could take with him. And she walked him to the bus stop. Kissed his cheek. Squeezed his hand. And said the words that simultaneously made him laugh and warmed his heart.

“Go get ‘em, Peaches.” 

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That was a year ago now. When he came home, she threw a big surprise party for him. A few people from town, his aunt, Jas. And she never looked more beautiful. She even found chicken shaped balloons. Because... what guy doesn’t want balloon animals from the girl he’s crushing on? 

Crushing on? He smirked. I sound like a middle schooler. 

He split his time between the market and her ranch. Gradually spending more and more time on her farm. Gathering eggs before his shift. Feeding chickens on the way home from work. Sipping peach iced tea in the shade of her porch and thinking this life wasn’t half-bad. But he wanted more. 

She started bringing by lunches on his longer shift days. Homemade sandwiches and fresh-pressed juices and handpicked peppers. The kind that burst with sweetness or that spicy kick he needed to get through the rest of his day. 

She learned to roll her own dough. Once a week, on hot summer evenings, she would make him pizza with her own special spicy red sauce. Wearing that cute little red and white checkered apron around her jean shorts and just below the edge of her tank top. Too hot to be standing around the stovetop making pizza sauce or the oven to bake the dough. But she did it for him. Shane looked forward to it after a long and grueling Saturday shift. 

He still stopped at the Saloon most nights, but now it was just to drink soda and share a pepper poppers appetizer. Gus started bottling root beer, made from bark and flowers and herbs from around the Valley. It wasn’t alcoholic. And it was an acquired taste. Getting better with time. 

She would breeze in and offer suggestions and feedback. Shane enjoyed watching the two “play” squabble over the choice of leaves. The kindly saloon owner and the girl he liked collaborating to make him a refreshing drink became a welcome nicety. 

Most nights, they didn’t stay long. Heading out for long walks around town. Shoes scuffling along cobblestones. Kicking up dirt on wooded paths. Kicking off on the beach to feel the mushy sand. Talking about nothing important, but always special. Any time with her was special. 

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a friend like her. To have a woman of her rare caliber show him any attention at all. She got past his defenses and he welcomed it. And deep in his heart, Shane knew - this was love. 

With today’s paycheck, he could finally take her on a proper date. Somewhere out of the Valley. Someplace where they could have fun together. He felt the excitement and nervous anticipation rising in his chest. Somehow he fumbled through an “ask” on her front porch this morning, managing to invite her to join him... if she wanted... at the bus stop... around 5pm. He had tickets to see the Tunnelers play. 

Shane finished his shelf, glancing at his watch. Ten past four. Just enough time to get home, showered, and changed. He disposed of the empty boxes in the dumpster and delivered the cart to the back room. Opening his locker, he hung his apron on the hook. Instantly, he felt lighter. Like that thing was a noose around his neck. A ball and chain. He really needed a new job. And in fifty, no, forty-six minutes, he could see her... 

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"SHANE!"

The shrill obnoxious tone pierced his moment of peace. The voice could only belong to one person - a holllow husk of a corporate shill, even more unlikeable than him, if that was even possible. Shane frowned, his eyes clamping on the store manager barreling toward him at full speed. 

“A whole second shipment came in just now,” the man grunted. “Like I need this when I’m short-staffed, as always,” he offered an exasperated sigh. 

I can’t imagine why... Shane thought to himself, bemused. The boss was insufferable. Always barking orders. Never praising his team. Paying peanuts. Polishing his baby - a silver Rolls Royce in mint condition - parked in the only covered spot in the entire Joja lot - every night - instead of doing paperwork like he should. How was he still employed? No one at corporate cared. 

“Not my problem, Morris,” Shane replied. 

“No, no, no,” Morris fluttered his short arms. “It is your problem. I need you to stay late and help Sam empty the truck.”

The man continued to ramble something about “this is why I pay you” and “you think you can do better somewhere else?” He badgered Shane about his “work ethic,” even if Shane had been a near model employee since returning from rehab. Even if his former colleagues actually welcomed him back, much to his shock. Shy little Claire even commented on how he was “different” than before.

Shane had been nominated for employee of the month, no doubt, angering Morris. The man had it out for him. Sticking him on graveyard shifts. Making him mop baby puke in the aisles. Forcing him to attend a “hospitality” seminar so he could learn to be nicer to, in Morris’ words, “bored housewives who somehow like your prickly personality.” 

Morris, a man who prided himself in appearance, with his neat little bow tie and perfectly ironed jacket, couldn’t believe how the ladies bought more after a rough encounter with Shane. It was good for business, of course, and Morris would take all the credit. That hospitality seminar wasn’t cheap, he constantly reminded Shane. Like rehab hadn’t made him a better person already. Or his relationship with little Miss Jolly. 

“They just fawn over your monotone delivery of the daily sales,” Morris droned on. “Yoba only knows why. You haven’t been educated at the finest university this side of the Pond with an impeccable taste in... well, everything.” Morris puffed his chest. 

“I just don’t understand why they giggle at the register about the ‘handsome’ stock boy when they could have me recite the daily sales in Shakespearean English for heavens sake. Well, no matter. I can use what I’ve got. You.” 

The man thinks I’m a frickin’ pack of meat. 

“Now in order to have sales, we must have stocked shelves. And in order to have stocked shelves, I need to have you stay longer. Because shelves don’t stock themselves... and what are you staring at?” 

Shane rubbed his jaw, catching his reflection in Morris’ little glasses. Could I really be that handsome? Morris wasn’t wrong. The market had been a little busier than usual in the mornings and around lunchtime. Shane came back from breaks early sometimes because customers “requested” him. He could reach the “tall” shelves. 

But he wasn’t that tall. And most times, he needed a ladder. Unlike Sam. But even Sam told him he had been relegated to “cute” because the female patrons wanted to check out the new guy (on the ladder) because Shane possessed a look of danger and mystery, and had that "hot dad bod."

Like that’s really a thing I wanted! Shane rolled his eyes. It's all a little disgusting. Being oogled. Because what? Dangerous? Dad bod? I’m just me. There was only one gal he wanted checking him out. And he needed to get going if he was going to meet her. 

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“No can do, Boss,” Shane removed his Joja cap and hooked it alongside his apron. “Got plans tonight.” 

“No, no, no,” Morris’ voice grew tight, his eyes becoming tinier. “That won’t do. You must cancel your plans.” 

“Do I get overtime?” Shane asked, half-distracted by the photo occupying the inside of his locker. 

It was the only thing he had ever decorated with at work. A photo of him and Miss Jolly at the Moonlight Jellies festival about a month ago. It was the one time he actually thought he was photogenic. How could he not be happy? With a gorgeous gal by his side, smiling and laughing as the photo was taken, a woman who believed in him, rooted for him, and cared for him. Shane’s expression softened as he thought about how much she had impacted his life. 

“You know what?” Shane ripped the photo from his locker wall with gusto. “I quit.” 

“Are you even listening?” Morris was saying. “And no, I’m not going to approve overtime. You left early by one minute the other night. One minute!"

"And one time last week, you were late by three minutes. I will not approve overtime for someone who nearly runs over a flock of geese with his bicycle and is late to work."

"If you’re going to keep up with this lazy attitude of yours...” he huffed and straightened his jacket. “I may have to reconsider my decision to rehire you... even if you bring in the ladies... I mean... sales...” 

“What?” Morris’ eyes grew wide as saucers beneath his horn-rimmed glasses, and then his expression darkened, as if Shane poured bitter coffee all over the plates. “You cannot quit. Are you joking?” 

“Well I do, and I’m not,” Shane shoved the old rusty lock that never latched properly into the other man’s hand, a smile crossing his face. “With pleasure.”

Shane waltzed out of the soul-sucking store, leaving a dumbfounded former boss as the double doors whooshed behind him. He closed his eyes and took a big gulp of sea-salt air and sighed. He felt free. 

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When she met him at the bus stop, his heart skipped a beat. She looked radiant in the setting sun. Her eyes sparkling like stars. And her sexy little denim skirt was a nice touch too. The way her hips swayed ever so slightly on approach. He forced his gaze upward. 

"Hiiii... Miss Jolly. I'm glad you decided to come," he greeted, his tone a bit stilted and formal. 

What am I doing? He rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course, Peaches. I'm excited," she grinned. "This will be my first game."

"You'll love it!" he replied, wrinkling his nose at her childish nickname for him. And I will too with you by my side.

"Is that cologne?" she asked when she reached his side. 

Her fingers curled around his hoodie strings as she closed her eyes and took a whiff. "I like it." She grinned and winked at him. "A bit spicy."

"Yeah yeah," he murmured and ushered her onto the bus, but he hopped up the step behind her, feeling a little lighter on his feet.

"You're in a good mood," she remarked as they wandered toward the back of the bus. 

The atmosphere was charged. Rowdy. Everyone seemed excited for the Tunnelers game. He nodded to a few familiar faces before settling in next to her seat. The back was better than the front. Cool kids sat in the back. What am I? In the sixth grade? 

Still he was relaxed. Smiling even. She repeated her statement as if he didn’t hear her the first time. Damn straight  I’m in a good mood.  Because I get to spend time with you… maybe even tell you how I feel tonight… He decided the overcrowded bus wasn't the best place for that confession. The vehicle lurched forward and so did the conversation. 

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"I quit my job."

Her eyes widened and a slow smile played at her lips, drawing his attention to them. I bet they're juicy. He had fantasized about kissing her, ever since she planted one on him at this very bus stop twelve months ago when he shipped off to rehab. Out of respect for their “business arrangement” and friendship, he held off on the liplocking, but it didn’t mean he still didn’t wonder what it would be like if he had just turned his head to meet her mouth that night. 

“Good for you,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. 

Her gentle touch bringing him back to reality and away from his lustful la-la land. 

“I knew that place was killing the light in you. I just wish I could've seen Morris' smug face when you finally told him."

"Light in me?" he repeated, ignoring the statement about his ex-manager. 

"Yes," she slowly slid her hand up to his cheek, blushing a little while she moved. "You look better. Brighter."

"That's just the shower talkin'," he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"No, it's you, Shane," she replied, dropping her hand far too soon for his liking.

He wanted to beg her to keep it there, against his cheek. But present company dissuaded him, and he remained silent, nodding his thanks. The way she said his name... he bounced his leg a bit in nervousness as the bus bumped along the road... it made his knees weak and his head clouded. 

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"Did I miss anything?"

Shane descended the last step, returning to their seats in the stadium, snacks in hand. The game was tied up, the teams neck and neck in their scoring with each other. It was one of the most thrilling games he had ever seen in person. Even more exciting because she was there. With her incessant questions about the rules. Her exuberance at the Tunnelers' first goal. Even the little wrinkle around her eyes when she didn’t understand what was happening. He loved every minute of it.

And he loved explaining things. Even if he worried about boring her to death with his encyclopedic knowledge of gridball, he couldn’t stop talking. This was something he loved and he was sharing it with the woman he loved... even if she didn’t know it yet. 

"Only the announcer making bad jokes," she smirked. “And that guy...” she pointed to one of the pros. “...doing a silly little dance for the fans.” 

“Yeah, he’s known for that,” Shane laughed awkwardly, feeling a small twinge of jealousy that another man had caught her eye. 

“Not that he’s any good at it,” she laughed too. “Not like our little grooves in the Saloon.” 

“Oh?” he quirked a brow. “By the way, I got us some nachos. I asked the vendor to add some hot peppers… just like we like it."

"Like we both like it," she said in unison. "Thanks,” she snagged a chip and did a deep dip into the sauce. “You should've let me pay for snacks since you paid for tickets and the bus fare."

"Naw, we're on a date," he shrugged. "The guy pays. Plus, I wanted to."

Shane averted his eyes, suddenly self-conscious. "Did I tell you how much… I l…love…. Gridball?"

She stopped and looked at him as if surprised by his old-fashioned thought. I shouldn't have been so careless, he grimaced. Then he immediately wished his face wasn't so readable.

It was a date. A real date. But somehow they slid from acquaintances to friends to best friends and then... somehow something more, without ever defining the relationship.

Did she want parameters? Did he need a label? Were they... ever going to be what he hoped to be if he ever got his head out of his ass and asked her for real? 

"Yes, only the thousand or so times on the bus," she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I knew you played in high school.” 

Just like that, she slipped back to a more neutral topic. And he mentally flogged himself for the missed opportunity. 

“Yeah, blowing out my knee pretty much killed my chances at playing pro,” he said. “Doesn’t stop me from enjoying the games though.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” she inquired. “Going back. Maybe the minors or even just a pick-up team. I bet you looked great in a uniform,” her eyes twinkled mischievously. “And I wouldn’t mind the view of you in those white pants.” 

Red flooded his cheeks. Is she messing with me? How does she do it? Go back and forth between friendzone topics and flirtation? She made it look effortless. She was toying with him. She had to be. Dancing around the subject. Hoping he would ask. Or was he imagining things? 

Her hand hovered dangerously close to his side. Brushing the hem of her skirt. Nearly touching his shorts. He gulped, feeling flattered, but strangely unprepared for her seductive little smirks. He handed her the soda he fetched, and she thanked him, gulping back the liquid as if it were a small instead of a large. Saying something about all the cheering making her thirsty. 

He was the thirsty one. Eyeing her up and down and wanting to close the distance between them. Taking it from flirty friends to... faithful lovers. He never wanted a woman more than he did right now. To devote all his love and passion and energy and goodwill into being there for her just like she had for him. 

For the whole second half of the game, he nursed his cola. Distracted by her every move. The way she would raise her heels in anticipation of a score and lower them back to the ground when they didn’t quite make it. The way she spoke with that happy voice of hers, the kind that could lull him to sleep or rally him to make his best efforts. The way she repeated back facts she was learning about the sport, that he had literally just taught to her that night. He was completely mesmerized... so much so... he forgot to actually watch the game. For once, he liked the distraction. 

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When the Tunnelers scored again, she nearly flew off the ground, wildly cheering for their unexpected interception. He caught her hand as she was jumping back down. She squeezed it and continued whooping and shaking her fist victoriously in the air, never taking her eyes off the game. It was now or never.

"Hey," he said loudly to be heard over the stadium noise. "I've been meaning to tell you… thank you.” 

“For what, Peaches?” she said, teasingly. “Did you see that? How many yards was it? Seventy-five? Eighty?” 

“I mean it, really,” Shane cleared his throat, leaning closer to her ear. “ For sticking with me through everything."

She turned to face him, her expression growing more serious. 

"My… anxiety… depression… you know," he continued, fumbling over his words. "The alcoholism… I mean, I wasn't exactly the funnest person to be around back then."

Did I just use the word funnest? He rubbed the back of his head, hoping to read her expression, but for once, he couldn't.

“You do that... when you’re nervous,” she remarked. “That head rub thing...” she reached up and ruffled his hair. “It’s... cute.” 

“Uh...” Shane trailed off. She was not making this easy. But he needed to say the words aloud now or he never would. 

"You… uh… still helped me. You've been a really… good… friend to me," he shared, and then immediately regretted his word choice.

"Oh," she said, quietly.

Was that a flicker of disappointment in her eyes?

He hurried his words. "Anyway this is your first gridball game, huh? Well? What do you think?"

Smooth, Shane. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Changing the subject again, you frickin’ chicken.

"Oh…" she said, glancing back to the field, sounding a little confused. "Fun. I guess, Pelican Town seems pretty boring in comparison. Unless you count Sam's punk rock blaring at 11pm, breaking noise ordinances." She forced a chuckle.

Is she…? Am I imagining things?

"I'm surprised," he replied. "Didn't you move to the Valley to escape the noise of the city?"

She's looking at me again with those beautiful heart-melting eyes. He rushed through his words.

"I mean… don't get me wrong. I totally understand. My life in Pelican Town is pretty bland, you know. And now that I don't have a job, I gotta find something meaningful to do with my time again. A guy's gotta eat, right? Heh?"

"I was thinking about that," she replied, without looking at him. "I think it would be nice to have you around full-time."

"What?" he blinked.

"I've got one ranch hand now to help in the back pasture and one that helps out with the milking and all, but if I'm looking to expand, and if they ever take a sick day, I could use some extra hands," she continued. "Maybe your hands?"

I couldn't. Possibly. Was she blushing?

"You've already… done so much for me," he hated the hesitancy in his tone. "I… uh…"

She ignored his last comment. "This would be a business thing. We could do it temporarily to see if you like it. And if it's a good fit for both of us. I can be a bit of a…" she narrowed her eyes, mischievously. "Hard taskmaster."

"Oh? Yeah I've heard that from your current employees," he smirked. "But you are still a jolly one."

"Yeah…" she smiled, almost shyly, tucking a hair over her ear. “Your Miss Jolly.” 

The noise level in the stadium increased near ten-fold. All he could think about was how she said the words. She was begging him, wasn’t she? Walking right up to the brink and leaving him there? He reluctantly ripped his gaze away from the farmer to the field.

"Gah!" he screamed, his volume matching the crowd. "The Tunnelers are on the attack."

"Yes! Yes!" she shrieked. "Oh my Yoba! Final seconds. They're gonna…" she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "They're gonna break the tie."

"GOAL!" they yelled in unison. 

He never felt so happy. He was going on six months sober. He quit his horrible job. The farmer was offering him another one so he could see her every day. And he got to watch his favorite team in the world in the closest game in history with his favorite person in the world. Sharing this moment together meant everything.

"Thank you Shane!" she said, trying to catch her breath. "This was the best evening ever with you!"

"I know, I know!" he exclaimed. "Probably one of the best moments of my life."

Before he could stop himself, his lips were against hers. Surprise flickered in her eyes. All he could hear was the thudding of his own heart. She was flushed. The warmth of her lips. The taste of root beer. The delight overwhelming the alarm bells. He took a step or two back, stumbling as he came to his senses.

"Oh?" he gasped for air. "Uh… um… sorry. I guess I got carried away there. Maybe I had one too many... sodas. All that sugar. Ha!" 

Shane reached up to rub his head like he always did when he was nervous, just like she had noticed. Except this time, she strutted toward him, confidence in her eyes as she grabbed that hand and tugged him down. As they kissed for the second time, he felt her melt into his arms as she offered a faint “finally,” barely audible amidst the roar of the crowd. 

Encouraged, Shane grinned, hoisting her off the ground. She giggled and kissed him more fervently. Maybe he didn’t need words. Maybe he only needed actions to show her how he felt. 

And she was reciprocating. A dream come true. Their eyes remained locked in a loving gaze as he pulled back from her lips. When he finally set her down, he breathed heavily. 

"You really do love the Tunnelers?" she teased, disentangling her hands from his hair. 

"No," he shook his head, determined not to let this moment go by. "I really do love you."

"Come on, we'll miss our bus outta here," she grabbed his hand and pulled him through the exiting crowds.

“Wait,” Shane pulled her back for one more greedy kiss. 

She happily accepted, but he felt a fleeting ping of sadness even as they kissed in the stairwell, people pushing around them. He wondered if she even heard his confession. Maybe it's too soon? We just had our first kiss. She probably didn't hear me.

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

When they reached the parking lot, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in, they were too late. The bus huffed away with a puff of smog. They had just missed their ride back to the Valley. And there wouldn’t be another one until morning. If he hadn’t been so carried away and enamored by his date, maybe they would’ve left the stadium sooner. 

“Guess we should call a taxi,” she broke the silence first. “Or... actually... find a hotel.” 

“A hotel?” he repeated, his ears perking at the thought of sharing space with her. 

"Yes," she replied, without skipping a beat. "I mean, if we're gonna be stuck together in Zuzu overnight, we should get a hotel. A taxi ride would be really expensive and I don't think we have enough time to get across town to catch the train."

"Oh right," he said softly. "Uh… I can't let you pay for a hotel too."

"It's no trouble," she pulled out her cell phone and started scouring the internet for places. "And a hot shower sounds nice after all the sweat and grime of us in there,” she nodded back toward the stadium. “...jammed in like sardines."

"Uhm…" he blinked rapidly. You're a grown man. Get it together.

"This place looks nice," she showed him a picture after a minute or two, while he awkwardly plopped on the edge of the sidewalk. "And it's got a 4-star rating." She sat next to him, dropping her hand on top of his. “Oh look it’s got an in-suite jacuzzi.” 

"Uh… sure," he shrugged, uncertain about what to do with his hands that so desperately wanted to kiss her again. "Well, that definitely was a good game."

"Yes, and it's going to be an even better night, because it doesn't have to end here," she smiled sweetly. “Since we’re getting a hotel,” she winked. 

“Oh yeah... and we won too,” he stammered. “The Tunnelers, ya know?” 

“No... no, I didn’t. Really? They did?" she smiled sarcastically, and leaned closer. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“What?” he gasped, feeling shocked as her blase attitude toward his favorite team. 

“I mean, it was great... and all... and their win was pretty spectacular,” she acknowledged. “But I feel like I won the lottery with you here.” She interlocked arms with him. “Did you mean it? Shane? When you said you loved me?” 

So she did hear me! And the way his name fell from his lips caused his heart to soar and he found his confidence. 

“Yes, I meant it. I love you,” Shane replied. “But I wanted it to be special. Better than this... stranded in a parking lot with trash all over the place.” 

“It is special,” she replied. 

“But it wasn’t perfect,” he grimaced. “I was planning on telling you when we got back... when I walked you back to your place tonight.” 

His head felt hazy with love and desire as she kissed him again. This time, she draped a leg over his, pressing against his chest. He audibly moaned, leaning into the kiss. His hand naturally slid down her back to help her balance, and he squeezed softly, like he had wanted to for a long time. She matched his intensity with a clutch of her own, and he groaned again, reluctantly breaking their touch. 

“I don’t need perfect, Shane. I just need you."

His heart leaped from his chest as she continued.

"I love you too. I want you.”  

“Ahhhh... then let’s get to that hotel,” he said, the heat of her breasts against his chest creating a near uncontrollable fire within him. 

“Fine,” she playfully pouted. “I’ll behave... Hot Stuff," she fanned herself. “...for now... since we’re in public.” 

“Believe me,” he replied with a heavy sigh, feeling a healthy growth between his legs. “I want you all to myself.” 

She giggled and tapped her phone. "Done. Got us booked.”

“That fast?” 

“Yes, It’s only a two and a half block walk. Now… shall we?" She jumped to her feet and darted away briskly. 

“Someone’s impatient!” he smirked. “What if I had said no?” 

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” 

“Oh really?” he liked teasing her as she brought out his confidence. He started into a jog away, passing her on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you soon.” 

“Shane!” she laughed and chased after him. 

Of course, he let her catch him. She playfully punched his arm, but then lingered. She was beaming. And he was too. Shane took her hand, looking down at the woman he loved, and smiled, brighter than he ever had in his entire life.  She loved him and wanted him… just as he loved and wanted her. 

 “Shane?”

He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulder. Tonight, he was going to make her fully his, and he would be fully hers. 

"Yes, my Miss Jolly.” 

#stardewremixed #sdv shane #sdv farmer #female farmer #replies #national kissing day #first kiss #hellhoundmaggie #sdv headcanon #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanon #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley shane #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley #sdv morris #shane x farmer #shane x reader #sdv marnie #sdv jas #sdv sam #sdv gus #zuzu city

[bunnystalker]

everything is blue

you're vergil's "something blue."

cw; lingerie mention, established relationship, canon compliant, vergil is a cat, somewhat needy vergil, this is not a full fic just something i thought of earlier, powder blue is such a good color, sex mentioned but not described, i love 40 year olds (vergil is 43)

a/n; dear god the dmc brain rot has started... fear not! i will still be a resident evil account, just with some... extras here and there. btw i finished 3 & 1 in two days... tryhard who? i might make a dante version of this too! this will officially be my vergil divider i think!

blue. that's what reminds you of vergil- blue. deep, navy blue. sometimes a shade of indigo. if you asked him, he'd tell you that associating someone with a color is odd and something he would never do. it's silly, he'd insist, and not something he really cares for.

or so he says.

unbeknownst to you, he's decided that you are light blue. specifically powder blue, not quite baby blue, and not exactly periwinkle- powder blue.

whenever he buys you something, it's always that exact shade. you don't notice until lady points it out to you one day, after you've told her about something vergil has, once again, bought for you (an irresponsible spender, it seems, but he'd give the world for you.)

"that sounds cute," she says, leaning into the old couch cushions behind her back. the entire damned piece of furniture is old, so it's no surprise that she inadvertently sinks into your side.

"yeah, it is." you nod, leaning into her, too.

"what color?"

"blue. like a baby blue, sort of." you say and she hums.

"weird," she comments.

"why is that weird?"

"he always buys you blue stuff. like he's claiming you with a color or something." she shrugs, which moves your shoulder, too.

"huh…" everything vergil has ever gotten you- lingerie, skirts, shirts, little charms for your lanyard, the lanyard itself, bracelets with aquamarine, even some earrings with the same stone. when you ask him what color to get on your nails, he always says the same color- powder blue. you wonder if it's his way of staking a claim. he's never been outright possessive, never told you to your face that you belong to him or that you're his in every single way, inside and out.

truthfully, you'd never thought he was wired that way. maybe it's a demon thing, and part of you wants to assume it is, but it's not like you're dumb. you've dated other men before vergil, much to his dismay, and you know how they can be. maybe, when indulging in sins of the flesh, he's not so different. his touches are never less than gentle, especially when it came to the early stages of your relationship. they were very chaste, then, never below the belt until you told him you were ready. he was gentle, then, too.

he's extra affectionate when you're actually wearing the blue things he gave you- maybe one of the skirts he bought you, or the thigh-highs he nervously gave you to wear, too. even the jewelry has him touchy. like a cat, he'd press himself against your side, one hand on your thigh, thumbing the hem of your skirt somewhat obsessively as you pay attention to your phone instead of him, still holding his arm. his stormy grey eyes would be a little more blue, his pupils dilated some. pouty lips would find your cheek, your temple, your hair, anything to get you to pay attention to him without him needing to ask. maybe your theory was right.

not to mention the one day you wore red to work, he looked like somebody stomped on his heart. to anyone else, the crease between his brows was the same, the pout his lips were always in didn't change, but to you, he was sulking majorly. realistically, he knew he didn't control you, but some darker, inner parts

it's not his fault. ever since you two began dating, he'd had this obsession with seeing you decked out in his color, even though he knew it was silly.

#dmc vergil #devil may cry #devil may cry vergil #vergil devil may cry #vergil dmc #drooling over vergil dmc #dmc brain rot #bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #bunny's blurbs✧˖ ° #dmc fanfiction #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #vergil sparda x reader

[marthawrites]

Could you do inexperienced Aemond with an experienced partner

Teaching A Dragon New Tricks

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.2k+

About: You and Prince Aemond have been giving each other eyes for some time now, and he finally makes the first move. After that, you feel comfortable showing him a few things. His drive for knowledge extends beyond books.

Includes: Aemond being a cute noobie (nerd), having an awakening to the magic of women, and explicit sexual content! Featuring male masturbation, vaginal fingering, and fem receiving oral.

Note: Hello lovely reader! My first ever request ahhhhh! This was seriously so much fun to think about and write. It's my first time writing this dynamic. I hope I did your request justice! As always, please enjoy! ♥

-

The first time Aemond kissed you he almost missed your lips. That’s not how any prince in the storybooks acted – they always knew how to make pretty maidens swoon. 

Surely Aemond’s misaim was a jest? Although… you’d never known, or witnessed, him being the jesting type. 

You looked up at him wide-eyed and surprised. You held your breath high in your throat, and Aemond must have too, judging by how his nostrils flared. Blood bloomed beneath his alabaster cheeks. His single eye desperately searched yours.

Had he misunderstood all of your shared experiences? Brief and in passing as some of them might have been? Had Aegon told him to “kiss her, brother. Why haven’t you yet? When you do, make sure to hold her throat like this and move your tongue through her mo–” he’d stopped listening at that point, blinking puzzlingly at the mental image of choking you for a kiss. He couldn’t imagine how that’d be enjoyable.

Yet, now he wondered if he should have done exactly what Aegon said.

“I– I’m sor–,” he started, taking half a step back. Embarrassment burned his pride.

You blinked, then, eyes sparkling with some sort of secret amusement. “Aemond Targaryen… dragon prince and rider of Vhagar…,” you said slyly. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

If he blushed before, he damn near combusted with the absolute ease in which you read him. “Am I that obvious?”

A giggle answered his nervous question. Light, and airy, the sound full of magic like spring-pink flowers twirling in the wind. Were it anyone else you might have turned away with no intention of seeking a second. But, with Aemond? Since becoming a lady-in-waiting for Helaena you’d been smitten by him. You stepped forward, toe to toe with the tall, lithe, sheepish prince, and placed your hands on his chiseled face. “Let’s try that again, silly prince…,” you said before standing on your tippy toes to press your lips to his in a much more well-aimed kiss.

It was that day, in the soft sunbeams of Helaena’s empty bedchamber, that you showed Aemond the art of kissing until both of your lips were swollen. He learned wickedly fast.

-

After breaking fast it was a ritual for Helaena and her children to spend time in the gardens – rain or shine. Luckily it’d been sunny for a few days and last week’s downpour finally dried from the top soil. During these hours there never seemed to be a dull moment. You were sent off by the kids with nothing but a linen bag and a mission of finding bugs. They were putting together an insectarium and needed any and everything that crawled. It was a fun break. Fresh air and sunshine brought out the natural colors of your hair as it slowly loosened from its careful bun. 

Before you knew it you were away from the main crowds and pathways. Insects buzzed in the air; quiet and secluded. 

Just as you crouched down, a familiar voice called your name right when a jumping spider inspected your palm. “Shouldn’t you be training, my prince?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder to regard Aemond with your little bug friend.

If he cared about the spider he showed no sign of it. He crouched beside you and gently pushed you onto your back, grinning down at you like the trickster you were learning him to be. Sunlight hit his face and softened his otherwise sharp features. “Not with the sword. I’d rather train other things,” he said in a voice much too huskily. His mouth was on yours. With any luck the spider successfully jumped away and not into yours or his hair. “I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you since the last time I did.”

For someone who literally just learned how to do that he was really good at it. A soft moan vibrated your lips against his. Your hands trailed up the front of his chest and neck, pushing away a stray bit of hair that tickled your collarbone. “Greedy prince…,” you giggled against his mouth, daring to nip his bottom lip.

“Perhaps you should have thought twice before showing me such things,” he replied. His free hand lifted to carefully lay over your throat; putting to first use the trick he learned from Aegon. Your reaction – arching beneath him – had his pupil swelling. "You like that?"

You nodded with a breathless smile. "Yeah. Not too hard though. It feels good just there," you purred, thighs pressing together as warmth built and collected in your core. The heavy kissing and exploring nibbles felt as if you were making up for lost time; Aemond One-Eye starved of affection. Muscles in your belly tightened and it took all you had to pull away from him, eyes dreamy and half-lidded. "Aemond… I want you to touch me. Please," your voice rasped. Wanton.

He looked at you curiously. "I am touching you," he answered, dipping to rub the tip of his nose against yours.

You fought another giggle. "No, my prince, I mean really touch me." You bent an elbow to lean up on it and carefully grabbed his hand with your other. In a guided trail, you swept his palm from your neck to your thigh and watched his expression all the while. "Have you ever pleasured a woman before?"

Color rose in his face, and even in the midmorning sun his pupil swelled. The strained tightness in the front of his trousers throbbed against where he leaned against you. "No," he half croaked. "Will… will you teach me like you did the other day with your kiss?" He squeezed your thigh with his question, marveling at the softness.

"Yes," you answered with an inward hiss. Gripping his wrist you added, "not here. Anyone could be around. And I am to be with princess Helaena all day. Tonight?"

"Not tonight. Now," he said. 

“I cannot just leave her and her children behind!”

Some might not believe it, but Prince Aemond had tiny dimples when he smirked. Dimples. He leaned into the crook of your neck and kissed, then bit, and kissed again. Goosebumps tickled his lips when he said, “good thing the princess is my sister and I’m not obliged to her law.” Without giving you a chance to protest he stood and pulled you to your feet. He guided you back to the main path and paid little mind to bystanders.

“Brother, where are you taking her?” Helaena asked once she saw the two of you – his arm wrapped around your back as if for support.

“I found her off the path. She’s fainted. I’m taking her to her room,” he replied swiftly; the dirt on your back making his lie appear genuine.

Once inside the Red Keep, instead of taking you in the direction of your sleeping quarters, he took you to his. You two were able to sneak inside and latch the door without anyone seeing. You'd been in here before, but never under these circumstances. Excitement fluttered in your core and when his mouth found yours again you buzzed with anticipation. "Someone is eager…," you muttered playfully against his lips.

"Says the maiden who's given into the carnal desires of flesh outside of wedlock," he scolded against the side of your neck, nipping. "You unholy creature."

You gasped at the sensation of his teeth. "You might be surprised to know things aren't as strict among the smallfolk as it is with you nobles," you whizzed in response. "I'm quite glad to be born where I was. You royals are so uptight." 

Through the banter Aemond led you towards his bed until the backs of your legs bumped against the edge of it. When you fell backwards with him above you, his silky pale hair like a curtain around your face, you wanted nothing else than to stay there for countless hours. "Are you going to keep babbling or show me how to make you feel good?" His smirk had an edge of darkness and you wondered if he was being entirely honest with you in regard to his experience.

Aemond wasn't lying. Truthfully, he hadn't any experience. That didn't mean he hadn't "accidentally" read about things here and there in sordid library books. And having Aegon as a brother meant he was victim to unsolicited advice and peer pressure often. The books were out of curiosity, whereas Aegon’s taunts were simply annoying. 

He had an idea of how things worked. Though, he never had the opportunity to act upon such things.

"Aemond… if you don't start doing something I think you'll drive me positively insane."

Following the passive command, his hand began slowly trailing up your leg. He pushed your skirts up as he did so, allowing the fabric to bunch up until it barely covered your smallclothes. His gaze shifted from between his hand and your face – eager to see your reaction. "Something like this, right?"

Against your will, you arched beneath him and grinned breathlessly. "Yeah," you replied. The scratch of his skin on yours had your core flexing with a need beyond your control. "A little higher still…," you said, smiling.

Shifting his weight, he laid on his side, now, able to look from your face to the space between your thighs that was becoming more and more exposed. The backs of his fingers brushed along your covered mound and you jolted, narrowly missing crashing your forehead to his chin. "Are you okay?"

Blushing, you squeaked, "yes." 

"Are you sure? You nearly headbutted me."

"Shh.. shut up!" You laughed, embarrassed. "Gods. Keep doing that, there, feels so good," you said as you pulled your skirts higher up your front. Intentional or not, his teasing made you, somehow, want him even more. "Actually… these are just in the way," you added, tugging your own underwear off.

He watched you with surprise in his eye. He'd never seen this side of you – or any woman, in that fact – and with each passing moment the prince felt an undiscovered part of himself roar to life. He liked it. Pulse drummed in his chest and behind his ears, and he had to steady his hand as he lowered it to cup your bare mound. Breath quickly hitched in his throat. "You're so warm," he whispered, shuddering. The pads of his fingers pressed curiously along the outside of your folds and he bit down on his own lower lip to stifle a sound he’d never quite made before. “And slick.”

You allowed the sound he bit back to flow freely from your throat. “Surely you know how it works…,” you teased, thighs opening more than they already were. “Women get wet where men get hard.” His touch was curious and inexperienced, yet something about it was endearing and made your belly tighten. When he grazed your clit you whimpered, melting into the mattress. “Right there,” you whispered thickly. “Is my pearl. It’s very sensitive and the center of a woman’s pleasure,” you added, voice and cheeks sultry alike.

The front of Aemond’s pants had never been tighter. He turned quickly off the bed to kneel at the end of it, pulling your legs until you were right where he wanted. His attention flickered between your face and that needy space between your thighs; glistening and pink with desire. One hand held you open while the thumb of the other grazed all over your parted slit, exploring. Soft wet sounds accentuated your panting. The pressure of his thumb shifted from firm to light, and he tested different types of strokes, tearing his focus from your cunt only to watch your face for your reaction. “Here?” He questioned, sliding over your swollen bud.

Your hands tightened in his bedding. A moan came from your slackened jaw and you nodded down at him, watching him observe you. “Yes.”

He circled it, slid across it, and stroked along it. The sounds you made shot right to his cock and made his head heavy as if he’d drank too much wine. In tandem with some of his motions he saw the way your little opening clenched and relaxed around nothing; arousal seeping out of you lewdly, pleadingly, driving him to the brink of madness. He throbbed in his pants. Without entirely realizing it, he opened the front of them to let his cock free. He sighed at the freeing sensation. He groaned something in High Valyrian, cuntdrunk at the sight of you spread open so prettily.

"Push a finger in. I want to feel you," you said down at him breathlessly, one of your hands moving to gently cup the side of his head. If you thought him roguishly dashing before, seeing him here and now, knelt and learning the ways of your body, made him tenfold. It was all too much. Aemond Targaryen, despite his virginity, might very well bring you to the height of pleasure. 

He did as instructed: thumb slipped easily into you and you both gasped at the same time. He'd never felt anything quite like the sensation of you. Warm – no, hot – slippery, and spongy.

"Oh fuck…," you moaned softly. The hand at the side of his head squeezed into his hair, practically tugging at his ear. "More, my prince, please. Try a different finger and move it around inside me." It was a surprise you could speak so clearly as lust blazed through your entire form.

Aemond slipped his thumb out and replaced it with his index. The moan that elicited from you sent him crazy. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered reading something from somewhere: using one's mouth to get a woman ready for coupling. He hadn't a clue where, or how, or what, but before he could talk himself out of it his mouth was on you. If his touch felt good on your pearl, then surely his tongue might too. 

"Oh my Gods..! No.. you don't have to do that," you blushed, fingernails clawing into his scalp as you stared down at him dumbfounded. In your experience men rarely did this to women, and less enjoyed the act of it.

"Does it feel good?" He asked with sincerity, not wanting to hurt you with his inexperience. 

"Yes!"

He smirked and went back to it. Tongue and lips were tentative and unsure, as was his finger still pressed into you, but it hardly stopped you from finding both amusement and bliss in it. He licked all over your folds with the flat of his tongue; tang and salt and a hint of sweetness overtaking his senses. He hadn't a clue how he'd gone so long without experiencing this. Remembering what you said about moving his finger, he did just that. He swirled it around between your slick velvety walls and reveled in how you felt wrapped around his digit.

"Mmf…!" You panted, gripping tighter into his hair. "Keep doing that. With your tongue on my pearl, too," you simpered, the low muscles in your belly flipping and tightening.

The young prince was eager to listen and learn. He followed your instruction. He even dared to add his middle finger too, slowly moving and curling them around. You were so wet, and warm, and tight around him. If you felt like this around his fingers he could only imagine what you'd feel like around his cock. He moaned at the thought, lapping your clit with more confidence and enthusiasm.

You were trying so hard to keep your legs open and relaxed for him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. For someone who claimed to never have done this before it still felt wonderful. Any time his mouth would begin to stray away from where you wanted him, you pushed him back where he needed to be. The combination of your gently rolling pelvis, pleasured sounds, and hold in his hair, kept him on track. Shifting your legs around a bit, you slung one over his shoulder. The slight change had him finding a spot along your walls that had you seeing stars. "Right there!" You preened, thighs squeezing to lock him in place. 

"Is it too much?" He asked, a little taken back with your sudden reaction to whatever it was he'd been doing. 

When you looked down at him you nearly lost it. Your arousal glossed his mouth and he looked, somehow, innocent and wild alike. "Yes! But no… keep going. Please don't stop," you whined, desperate, using your hand still tangled in his hair to guide him back down to you.

Even with his jaw aching for a break, he obeyed. He kept his fingers right there where you seemed to really like it, curling and massaging along a section that felt a little different than the rest of the area. He stayed on your bundle of nerves, too, flicking and lapping and relishing every single noise his attention pulled from you. His free hand pumped along his cock; aching and rigid and feeling like it could burst at any second. He moaned into you. He wasn't going to last. 

Pleasure peaked and your thighs squeezed around his head again. "Aemond!" You mewled at the top of your climax, the entirety of your womanhood pulsing and shuddering with release. 

He couldn't hold back his own release. Never before had he heard his name said like that or called out like that – never experienced the excitement of a spasming cunt. He spent himself as he groaned into you. The last spills of his seed dribbled down his fist while the earlier, more powerful, ropes already began to soak into his bedding.

Your thighs finally relaxed around him and you gently pushed his head away, too sensitive for more. A sheen of sweat collected on your forehead and you felt heat high in your cheeks. Blushed, panting, and satisfied, you looked down at Aemond with bright sparkling eyes. "I don't believe you. You had to have done all of that before."

Slick coated his mouth and chin. His single eye was black with more emotions than you could read and he looked damn near wicked. "More," be said greedily as he squeezed your thighs; already a man addicted.

What had you awoken in the dragon prince? Your chest rose and fell with labored breaths, eyes communicating more than your mouth was currently capable of.

Just then, a knock on his door broke both of you out of the post-orgasm stupor.

He cleared his throat and said, "what is it?" in only a slightly trembling voice.

"Prince Aemond, you are being summoned to the small council meeting."

Annoyance washed over him and he swallowed it with a sigh. "I will be there shortly."

When no other sound came from the door, he tucked himself away and stood from where he'd been kneeling. "You're lucky, my lady, to be off the hook." He grinned cheekily and self-satisfied. He offered his clean hand to help you up before going to wash the other along with his face.

"There's more I can show you another time, if you'd like," you said as you straightened your garb to return to regular duties – as if Aemond hadn't just given you one of the best, if a bit clumsy, orgasms. "You're a very fast learner."

"We can continue to put that to the test," he said with a dark glimmer behind his eye. His angular features were sly in a way you'd never seen before, and you wondered what sort of things simmered in his mind.

-

taglist: to be added or removed, please say something ♥

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow and/or reblog and/or letting me know! It would make me vvvery happy ♥ If you have an idea I'm open to hearing requests!

Here is my masterlist

@melsunshine @iiamthehybrid @arcielee @nina2697 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sahvlren @targaryenbrainrot @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @ruby-dragon @aemonds-fire @meggiemay82 @doublesparrows @silverwinged @nikstrange @castellomargot @lost-and-founds @chompchompluke

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond smut #request #aemond imagine #aemond fic

[phoebepheebsphibs]

If we turn left enough times, we'll have gone in a circle.... and end up right back where we started.

@boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau @littlemissartemisia @thevoidbrothers @noval1t (I hope they don't mind I added their characters into the story for special guest appearance 👉👈)

CW: fight scenes, blood/ichor, panic attacks, slight body horror, hallucinations, abuse, experimentation, surgery, torture... cardiac arrest and character death

(It's a really long one. I am so sorry in advance lol)

Also, just for clarification: UIFY = Until I Found You NFIF = No Fun in Fungus DvD = Donatello Von Draxum 'Phael = Raphael Jurogumo

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Misa waddled along the corridors of the arena as she retraced her steps. She couldn't recall exactly where she'd left the portal sword, but she knew it was in the area... Her families were counting on her. Her older little brothers and sister April needed her help! And she was so excited to help them and prove Lee-Lee wrong about her being "just a little kid". She wasn't little! She was 4 years old! That was so grown up and big, she could do all sorts of things by herself... If she could only find her sword. She'd show him just how big she was!

Out of the blue, a familiar floating sensation took her and she watched with surprise as she was lifted up high into the rafters. Misa squealed with delight.

"Up, up!"

Waves smiled at her, returning her laughter with chirps and giggles of his own.

"Are you going to keep playing with your food, or what?"

Misa watched as a splash of pitch created another figure -- a version of Donatello but entirely grayscale -- formed in the rafters next to them.

Waves turned to look at his brother with a great big smile on his face, his eyes empty and black as he stared at Signal. He hissed a warning. Misa is off-limits.

"Fine. Just didn't see the point in wasting such a sweet little snack."

Waves hissed at him again before nuzzling his face into Misa's. She giggled with glee. These brothers didn't scare her. Waves might seem spooky, but deep down he was a silly little sweetheart and she adored him. Especially when he would pick her up and fly around with her.

"What exactly is the little Artemisia doing way out here all by herself?" Signal asked, leaning in close to her tiny face.

"Getting sword for my family!" she explained.

"Ah, weaponizing children now, are we? I think Static was handing out medieval swords and maces earlier..."

"Did somebody say 'best void brother'?" came a glitchy voice as another void brother appeared.

"It's like he's Beetlejuice or something..." Signal growled.

"I just thought the little lady might like this," Static stated smugly as he handed Misa her retrieved portal sword. He'd found it for her!

Misa cheered happily as she brandished the weapon, the blade glinting in the light and reflecting her image like a mirror.

"What's going on up here?" a fourth and final voice boomed. Radio slowly emerged from the shadows of the rafter corners. "Static, you're not giving minors weapons again, are you?"

"How did you even get up here?" Signal asked incredulously. "You're practically the size of a dump truck, how can you even fit in these rafters?"

"Call me that again and I'll flatten you like a dump truck."

"Just worried for the structural integrity of the building, is all..." Signal sassed back.

Radio rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the others, specifically Static, who still owed Radio an answer.

"I wasn't handing out weapons, I was retrieving it. It already belonged to her!"

Radio's eyes shifted from Static to Misa, who nodded her head as Waves shook his (he wanted to get Static in trouble as a joke).

"Why would a little thing like you need a sword?" he asked cautiously.

"Family needs help! Misa gets her sword for them!" she explained. "Bad spores!"

"Your family? You mean that band of misfits and the anxiety-riddled shroomie teens?"

Waves nodded for her. Misa didn't really understand what shroomie meant. Radio scratched his chin as he considered the situation. He knew that there was an outbreak of fear spores going on, and the two AU teams had been working to find and destroy them. It wasn't looking good thus far. Even Signal had gotten spored, and though he wouldn't admit it... they knew it wasn't a pleasant experience for him. Radio couldn't say he was an expert on mushrooms, but he knew a thing or two about invasive beings and decay. And if that fungus was as bad as everyone was making it out to be, then it could mean disaster for every AU in this place.

"...I don't suppose we could be of any help?"

Donatello howled with maniacal laughter.

His prisoners watched with fear as he ordered the vines to wrap around Michelangelo like ropes, tying his arms to his sides and keeping a very strong grip around his throat just in case anyone got any funny ideas. DvD was screaming bloody murder and promising every kind of painful demise if Audrey III didn't release his baby brother immediately. But he could see the tears in his eyes, he could hear the panic and utter fear.

Oh god, the fear was delicious. He wanted more...

Raphael struggled against the odd vines that had sprouted from Donnie's shell, as he brought him closer towards the room where Leo and the others were. The vines were an amalgamation creation -- partially machine, partially Dee's ninpo, and partially... Raph could only assume it was the mushroom. Had it been growing inside of his shell?? He desperately tried to free himself from the terrible growth. He managed to get one arm out --

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, what are we trying here?" the plant asked through Donnie, smirking down at Raph and commanding several other vines to take ahold of his arms and pull, stretching him out in every direction as he yelled in pained protests. "You didn't really think you could get out that easy, did you?"

Raph grunted and growled as he fought against the vines.

"Donnie!! SNAP OUTTA IT! I know you like to play the mad scientist sometimes, but this is TAKING IT TOO FAR!!"

"I'll tell him you said that," Audrey III smirked. "He's on sabbatical right now, but I'm sure the message can get through... eventually."

Raph screamed in anger as hot tears streaked down his face.

"But in the meantime, I think I'd like to taste your fear again..."

The door behind them opened, and out came a stream of blue fog, followed by the Hand.PNG, which crawled up the vines and onto Donnie's shoulder like a spider.

"Let's invite our dear friends to dinner, shall we?"

The vines began to drag Micheal and Raph into the room.

DvD began to screech like a monster, the muscles in his arms tensing and flexing against the vines and finally breaking their hold. He ran towards the wall, screaming in fury as he spun the tech-bō and leapt. They would not take his brother.

A spark of light ignited in his eyes.

It spread across his body.

The light burst like flame at the end of his staff.

All eyes watched him in shock as he shouted a war cry and slammed the tech-bō into the wall Dee had created earlier.

It shattered completely.

A shockwave burst from the impact and threw everyone back, dissolving the vines that held everyone.

Mikey's limp body fell.

DvD rushed to catch him. He almost made it when Donnie/Audrey III stepped in front of him and kicked him back with one of his mechanical arms. The battle-shell-clad ninja crawled up the side of the wall and grabbed the child before he could hit the ground. Mikey's head bobbed, and he groaned in discomfort at having been thrown around like a rag doll.

"You duplicitous little --! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Audrey III spat angrily.

In all honesty, DvD had no idea what he'd just done or how he'd done it. All he knew was that he needed to protect Mikey at all costs. And then the wall broke. In his shocked stupor, he failed to get up in time and suddenly found a new vine wrapping around his neck like a boa constrictor and tightening like a noose.

Mikey's eyelids fluttered.

Donnie/Audrey III brought the alt. version of himself close to his face.

"YOU HAVE NO MAGIC, YOU YOURSELF TOLD HIM THAT! YOU LYING LITTLE --" Donnie's eyes peered into DvD's as he choked. "...Perhaps you are more interesting than you let on. Shall we see what else is in your silly little head, my dear anarchist?"

Donnie gasped for air, kicking and clawing at his captor as he tried to free himself. He... he was blacking out...

Mikey's eyes burst open.

He screamed as loudly as he could, his entire body erupting into gold and amber light, blinding the entire corridor.

A shrieking sound came from the dark room. The door slammed shut.

Donatello turned around in shock, as a torrent of chains burst from the boy, two for each vine he'd created.

Oh. Now we play.

He'd seen this from the boy before; he'd been rooting around in his mind and saw the memories from the last time. He knew the child was afraid of these powers, he couldn't control them very well. Especially the really strong spells like this. He knew how this scene played out. He just had to either wait him out to spend himself dry -- or let him do what the previous poor, sweet Michelangelo had done, and turn himself into a monster. Either would work...

Mikey held his hand out. A series of chains came and sliced the vine choking out his brother. DvD fell to the floor, quickly caught by the chains -- which also grabbed NFIF Raphael -- and carried them away to the others who watched in utter shock as the child landed on the ground and summoned his mystic nunchucks.

"Well, well, well... look who finally woke up."

Mikey's eyes were wide and glowed burning gold. He said nothing, his face empty, devoid of expression. Mikey was not at home anymore, he was controlled by his ninpo. He simply tilted his head in response to Audrey III's eggings.

"I wonder... you tried to save Donatello from my clutches earlier. Did you know then that your efforts would be in vain? Did you know that in your absence, you'd leave your brothers and sisters to face me alone?"

The two circled around one another, preparing to duel it out.

"I sensed your connection; you'd discovered the truth, hadn't you? You'd discovered this pathetic boy's treachery, how he'd joined my cause."

Mikey's face never faltered. His knuckles tightened around as his weapon.

"I suppose 'joined' was the wrong word to use. He really was weak and pathetic, you know. It was almost too easy to leech my way into his mind. I highly doubt his consciousness could have survived from my invasion. I do hope you said your goodbyes."

Michelangelo charged.

Donnie/Audrey III swirled the staff in front of himself, deflecting the impacts of the little child as he battled the fungus infected version of his brother.

Mikey's movements were graceful, practically a performance as he flowed back and forth, throwing his chains at the purple ninja turtle, whose movements in contrast were fierce and sharp and violent and purely angry.

"Did... did you know he could do that?" 'Phael asked shakily, turning to look at Leo.

Leo simply stared in silence, mouth agape with awe and shock of his baby brother.

"Leo, did you know he could do this??"

"I... I-I mean... sort of... I knew he could do magic... but not like this..."

Michelangelo danced around Donatello, waving his arms and creating ribbons of golden light as he filled the room with light.

Wait a minute, light...

"The light... the light!" NFIF Raphael shouted suddenly. "The light! It's how we defeated the spores the first time, using mystic light! It disintegrates them!"

"How poetic, the light drives away the fear," DvD muttered, still rubbing his neck from the constraining grip of the vines.

"If we can get the door open, we can flood the room with his light and free them all!"

"Okay, solid plan, great effort from everybody, just one slight hitch -- HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET AROUND THE MYSTIC BATTLE WHERE OUR BROTHERS ARE TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER?!" Leo yelled.

"Raph's still comin' up with the plan!! Cut me some slack!"

"I can try to poof you guys to the door," April offered. "It won't be completely accurate, but I can get you close."

"That'll have to do," Raph nodded. "And whatever you do, avoid the hand and the spores!"

April grabbed hold of NFIF Raphael, squeezed her eyes shut, and then - poof! - landed the two right in the middle of the fight.

"AAGH! Sorry, sorry!" she screamed, ducking under Mikey's advance against Donnie, as Raph created an enormous ninpo arm and shielded the two of them from Dee's barrage of ninpo torpedoes.

"Get to the door!" Raph screamed, taking her by the hand and pulling her away as he created two more clones to help in the fight.

Mikey danced and ducked under the glowing purple missiles shot at him. He gripped his nunchuck tightly, whipped it towards one of the Raph clones. It wrapped around his arm, igniting in flames, then swung over Mikey's head like a lasso. He flung the fiery clone at Donnie, who just barely managed to dodge the flaming brother, which created a crater in the ground before him. The second clone came and tried to keep him from firing anymore missiles at UIFY Mikey.

"I'm surprised at you," Donnie huffed, trying to keep up with the two attackers. "Why would you want to fight against me? We're brothers!"

"We don't want to fight you," one clone growled. "But you're not in your right mind, so we'll have to do what we can."

"I'm sure you will," Donnie snarled, changing his bō staff into a spear and skewered the clone straight through. It disintegrated into red blocks and pixels. He turned to the second clone, creating the oh-so-famed drill, and firing at the poor duplicate.

Meanwhile, Raphael and April had made it to the door, April gripping the handle as she waited for Raphael's orders.

"Get ready," she panted, out of breath from dodging both sides of the attack. "Once this door opens, a flood of blue is gonna come out."

"I'll get you out, don't worry," Raph said with a nod.

"It's not me I'm worried about. Donnie said the Hamatos are full of senseless martyrs."

"He's... not wrong. But I promise that I won't sacrifice myself."

April nodded, hoping that he would keep that promise.

"Okay, then."

April threw the door open. As soon as she did, a torrent of blue smoke fumed out, engulfing both April and Raphael. April kept her eyes closed, waiting for the nightmares to start. But they never did. She opened her eyes and saw the world from inside a red glowing giant. Raph held onto her, arms spread around her in a safety hold, his hologram form shielding them from the spores.

Donnie/Audrey III felt a pain in the back of his mind. They turned and saw that the spores were leaking out of the room. Okay, now they were getting irritated.

"Why, you little...!"

In this moment of distraction, Michelangelo's chains wrapped around the softshell's waist and pulled him in. Mikey reached out and grabbed him by his neck, holding him just mere inches away from his expressionless face, eyes still burning like melted gold, no irises nor pupils. Donnie's wide, icy blue-tinted eyes contrasted them sickeningly. Donnie smiled.

"Go ahead," he said, voice smooth and calm. "Kill me."

Mikey blinked at him, but that was all. Audrey III continued.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? This ridiculous show of power, the fight? You were planning on finishing the job, weren't you?"

Mikey's fingers squeezed softly. A threat.

"What, are you afraid? Why? Shouldn't it be easy? Are you even in control of yourself? Why would you be afraid to squeeze the life out of someone who looks just like your brother, could actually be your brother?"

Mikey's hand let go, his arms shaking. A soft golden glow started to seep through the bandages.

"Ah, and it looks like you may be out of time."

Michelangelo looked down. Golden ichor dripped off of his fingertips. He pulled the bandages off, revealing the scars on his arms, which were glowing white hot, tiny cracks forming from their edges and shimmering, glittery ichor was bleeding from the reopened wounds. The price to pay for his powers.

Some Mikeys cracked.

He didn't.

Not again... n-not again...

Donatello/Audrey III dusted himself off as he watched Michelangelo slowly come to. With his ninpo overdrive giving way, his mind leisurely crept back into place; the golden glazed over his eyes melting as his irises came into focus and his pupils dilated. The ichor dripping down his forearms began turning a deep red, the glowing scars on his arms becoming irritated open wounds.

No, no! Mikey couldn't give up just yet, not when his family still needed him! But... he knew he'd used up almost all his precious energy... he... h-he... Mikey's breathing slowed, raggedy respiration as his hands shook and his knees wobbled beneath him. The room started to spin as black spots entered his vision. He managed to catch a glimpse of Donatello, swinging his staff with great force and slamming it into Mikey's chest with a hideous cracking sound.

Mikey was flung back several feet, dizzy and dazed and all the air knocked out of him. He vaguely registered multiple voices calling his name...

April screamed, NFIF Raphael screaming with her. April's teleportation powers activated without her realizing it, and she suddenly found herself by MIkey's side. Weak as he was, he had curled up into himself, clutching his stomach in pain and trying to catch his breath as he writhed on the floor. His brothers were also by her side in an instant, each one fretting over his injuries.

April looked up to see Donnie/Audrey III standing over them, the hand perched on his shoulder like a vulture.

Dee held out the severed arm, and gave it to the creature.

"Be whole again, dear disciple," he said with a smile, as the hand reattached itself to the limb, a flash of light combining the two together once again.

"That's gross," Leo grimaced. "Hey, DvD, you're a science experiment, can you do that?"

"No, but I can."

All eyes looked behind Donatello/Audrey III.

A black substance expanded and took form -- an adult version of Donatello, devoid of any colour whatsoever.

April cheered, whooping at his arrival. 'Phael screamed at a pitch that only dogs could hear. He was still convinced that these "Void Brothers" were the ones who'd sent him the ominous sticky note near the beginning of this entire adventure in the competition.

"So," Donnie/Audrey III said with a growl. "It looks like we have some more players in the game."

"Think you can keep up?" Signal asked, his form morphing into one of pure black, multiple arms expanding from his abdomen and several extra sets of teeth growing in his ever-widening mouth.

"The more the merrier," Donatello/Audrey III chuckled, letting the Hand.PNG crawl into his palm. "You know what to do," he whispered to it.

The hand instantly vanished, reappearing by the doorway behind Raphael, and scurrying into the room. A second later, blue chains shot out, slicing through Raphael's hologram.

"That's not good," he mumbled, forcing the hand to reach into the gargantuan stomach, pull him out, and fling him towards the others before the spores could seep through all the way.

Two figures emerged from the doorway, their movements somewhat sluggish. There were tiny mushrooms protruding from their skin. Their eyes glowed a neon blue, and their ninpo matched the shade.

Karai and Mikey.

"No..." Leo whispered, staring in horror. "Karai... what happened to her...?"

"Oh, Mikey," Raph whimpered. "Oh no, big man..."

"He's not gonna make us fight them, is he?" April asked nervously.

The two warriors charged.

"Yep. He is. He most definitely is. Shoulda seen this one coming, honestly. That's on me."

"Get outta here," Raphael ordered. "Me and... uh, these guys -" he said, gesturing to the four colourless adults that had already started combating against the swayed relatives, "- will keep them from following you."

"I thought you said you weren't gonna sacrifice yourself!" April yelled angrily.

"I know, and Raph is gonna keep his promise. But your little brother is hurt, he needs help now! I'm not gonna just hand myself over, I'm your cover. Now get going!"

April wanted to argue about it more, but before she could, she was taken by the wrist and pulled away. Waves was tugging her -- as well as the others -- off to a small clearing.

"Where do we go?!" 'Phael yelled, concerned that they had no real escape plan...

"Misa helps!" came a familiar voice. A sword slashed through the open air, and a bright portal opened in front of them...

...Donatello/Audrey III commanded a cloud of spores, hurtling them towards Radio.

"What are you, some kinda Avatar: the Last Airbender wannabe?" he joked as he dodged the cloud.

"I wonder why you would stand against me. Do we not fight for the same cause? Survival? We feed off of others, we only want to exist on our own terms... can you not see our similarities?"

"Nah, not really," Radio said, slamming his fist into the ground, only missing Donnie by half an inch.

"Such a shame. Then I suppose you must die."

"Happy to return the favour--"

"You can't hurt them!" Raphael shouted as he joined the fray.

"Whaddya mean, we can't? They're trying to hurt us!" Static shouted angrily, popping in and out of random spots, infuriating the heck out of mushroomed Mikey.

"They're not in control of their bodies, they're zombies! We hafta find a way to un-zombify them!"

"Well, no offense, but I don't think they share your mindset of 'no hurting the opponents'," Static sighed. "Besides, you're gonna have a hard time getting Signal to change his mind."

"Well, I'm gonna have to, those are my brothers and un-dead gram-gram from another dimension-- wait, where's Leo?!"

Raph looked around the corridor anxiously for the third zombie. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

He must still be in the room. Raph darted among the others, rushing towards the dark room. There was still a huge cloud of blue smoke that surrounded the doorway, Raph couldn't go in without being infected. But he could see inside.

There was Leo, sitting up against the wall -- oh god.

Leo's body was half-engulfed in the biggest, scariest mushroom Raphael had ever seen. It's giant eye zeroed in on Raph. It... it looked too much like... his fingers traced over his own injured eye nervously. Why did it look so similar? Donnie had theorized that the fungus might've been kraang-related, but...

Leo. Focus on Leo.

He was there, being absorbed into the mushroom. He looked so pale and thin, like he was wasting away. Raph had to save him somehow, but --

"Enjoying the view?" Donnie/Audrey III asked, whacking Raph over the head with his staff as hard as he could. Raphael crumbled to the ground, clutching his skull and groaning in pain. Yeah, that was going to leave a mark... and a pretty nasty concussion, too...

While Raph was stunned on the floor, Donnie/Audrey III noticed the portal that had allowed for the Until I Found You group's escape. It was still open.

The hand appeared at Donnie/Audrey III's feet.

"This form has served its purpose," he said flatly. "I have what I need for now... But I require you to follow after them. Bring me back the scientist, I believe that he may be of some use to me. And even if not, he can't be left with them. He's too smart, he'll find some way to weaken me... I cannot leave it to chance. Bring him to me."

The Hand.PNG "nodded" at his master, then jumped away towards the portal.

Raphael struggled to keep his vision straight. He felt something wrap around his chest, tugging him backwards. He saw the Void Brothers driving the two zombified Hamatos back to the room... in Raphael's direction... the room...

Raph's head pounded louder than a drum. The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop. He knew April would have his head for giving in so easily... maybe she'd understand given the circumstances. He could barely hold his head up after that last hit... Donnie was a lot stronger than he looked.......

At least... he would be sleeping soon. At least he would be in good company. All the Hamato martyrs, together again. At least he was with Gram-Gram again.

At least he'd be with Leo, soon...

The door closed.

Leon recalled the feeling of portalling.

It was kind of like falling. Accidentally skipping a step down the stairs. An acidic scent that slightly burned the nostrils, a popping in the ears as you go from one altitude to the other in an instant and a half.

Leo hadn't done a lot of portalling, but he'd had his fair share of experiences with the activity. But he still wasn't used to the feeling yet. He stumbled through the bright blue splotch of light and tripped on his way out, finding himself in a brand new corridor. The others followed soon after, clambering out one by one and almost stepping on top of each other.

"Where... where are we?"

"Who cares! We have to go back!" April shouted. "Raph still needs us!"

"What exactly are we supposed to do? Go in, guns blazing? With what guns??" Leo yelled anxiously, waving his arms around to gesture to the obvious lack of firearms.

"P-Prilly's right, w-we haf-hafta... go... back..."

Mikey whined loudly, trying to push himself away from Donnie. The effort hurt his injured arms, which were still bleeding profusely.

"Micheal, hold still--"

"N-no, they need us, Donnie... th-they need us... they need..."

Mikey slipped out of his grip and fell to his knees, shakily trying to get back up.

"Michael, you're in no condition to be going into a battle like that!"

"Mikey all red," Misa whimpered. "Mikey's not s'posed to be so red..."

"No, he's not," Leo growled. "Dude, just sit this one out --"

"No!" Mikey sobbed. "I can't sit back and watch as the people I love and care about get hurt!"

"WHY DO YOU THINK WE WANT YOU TO STAY PUT?!" Leo shouted angrily. "I am NOT having you get hurt like that again! Donnie, take Mikey and go find him some first aid," Leo ordered.

Donnie nodded, picking up the angry box turtle and carrying him into a side hall that lead to one of the many lounge areas. "Raph, April and I will come up with a plan."

"What Misa do?" the littlest turtle mutant asked.

"...You have a very important job to do," Leo announced. "You got those ghosty guys to come and help fight... We're gonna need all the help we can get. Misa, you're the recruiter. Go find as many people as you can and get them to come. Tell them how important it is, okay? This is a big responsibility."

Misa's face lit up.

Lee-Lee trusted her! He knew she was responsible! Misa saluted him with a determined smile and nodded.

"Misa get all the families! Everybody comes!"

"Exactly, Misa. Everybody comes."

"So what, we're just gonna pull an Avengers Endgame on the shrooms? We need more of a strategy than that!" April groaned.

"What the heck is an Avengers Endgame?" Leo asked.

"It's a human reference for a movie. Basically it just means that everybody bands together against the bad guy for an epic finale," 'Phael explained.

"Then why not say that? It makes much more sense than 'Avengers Endgame' -- and how did you know what that meant??"

"I do live with humans, in a human hotel, y'know," 'Phael said, rolling his eyes. "I've seen human movies."

"Okay, well, the majority of our family has not, so maybe--"

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?!" April exclaimed loudly.

"Hand?" Misa asked, eyeing something behind them.

"She means the important stuff," Leo explained.

"Hand!" she yelled.

"Yes, yes, we're trying to get back to the matter at--"

"No, hand!" Misa pointed.

The group turned around to see the blurry trail of a small appendage rushing into the hall after DvD and Mikey.

"I don't just want to sit a-a-and do nothing," Mikey pouted, still shaking in DvD's arms.

"I understand that, you know I do," DvD sighed. "And you also know why I am requiring you to rest. You recall what happened the last time--"

"I know, I know, don't remind me. I was bedridden for days..."

"And yet you wonder why we won't let you go fighting."

Mikey grumbled and turned away from DvD. He was so mad, he could spit venom. He knew they were right, of course they were right. But that didn't make it any easier; in fact it made it worse. Because Mikey knew he was right, too! At least, half-right. He knew that they should go back and help. But he knew he couldn't do much, not with all his energy spent and his arms in the state they were now. They stung like mad, he could barely move them. Donnie had removed what was left of the bandages, doing his best not to gag at the sight and keeping his hands as still as possible, despite his aversion to the blood.

Mikey shouldn't feel guilty for this, right?

It wasn't his fault, right? It was just... how his mystic powers were. He couldn't help the way his body worked, just as much as he couldn't help when his hypoglycemia acted up. It wasn't his fault that he was the way he was... it wasn't a bad thing, right? Being Mikey? Being sensitive to others and sensitive to himself, having some few medical issues and mystic setbacks... that wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, right? Right...?

Mikey turned away so DvD couldn't see him crying. He didn't want him to think he was any more immature or any weaker than he undoubtedly did already. Than they all did. Leo had been taking care of him and his ailments since he was a baby. And Raph was holding on to that one special secret of his... and Donnie had cleaned up the blood and gone to get some more gauze and anti-bacterial supplies for Mikey's wounds. Mikey sighed and wished he wasn't so pathetic. He wished he was stronger, smarter, better. Anyone but himself. The only thing he was good for was his stupid useless mystic powers, and they always did more harm than good, especially self-harm. Mikey hated them. He hated himself--

NO, no, don't think like that! That wasn't kind, that wasn't fair! Mikey didn't actually hate himself at all, he was just mad. He needed to let it go. He needed to sit back and breathe...

Mikey leaned back, exhaled slowly, inhaled deeply.

And he saw it.

Crawling like a cockroach on the wall and up the ceiling.

With something blue in its grip.

"DEE, LOOK OUT!!"

The Hand.PNG shot the spores at Donatello Von Draxum.

Mikey jumped.

He had no time to do anything else.

He had no energy to summon mystic chains or make a spell or do anything clever like that.

He just jumped. Dove, really. Dove straight for his brother, in a desperate attempt to push him out of the way, move him aside, get him to safety!

The spores hit him.

"MIKEY?! MIKEY!!!"

Donnie grabbed his brother, holding him close, ignoring the hand as it disappeared into the shadows to watch the scene play out...

"Mikey, look at me, focus on me, okay? You can get through this, alright!? Just concentrate on my voice..."

Mikey nodded furiously, trying to listen to DvD. But there was a ringing starting, his head felt light and dizzy, the room began to spin and get darker. DvD was fading from vision...

NO! Stay, with me, Donnie, please! Donnie?! DONNIE!!

Donnie started shouting, someone was taking him away! Mikey tried to get up, go after him -- his leg caught on something. His arms, too! He looked down and saw titanium shackles, imprisoning him to a cold metal table.

A light shone in his vision. He squinted at the blinding brightness, wishing he could have a hand free to guard his eyes. Something stood in front of the light, casting a shadow over him.

"Well, well, well... if this isn't a surprise? Back again for more, are we?"

Mikey couldn't breathe.

It... it was him. It was him.

Baron Draxum.

"No... no... no --"

"I think we need to run a few more tests on our little friend here, don't you, Donatello?"

Draxum stepped aside and showed Mikey a view of DvD, chained by the wrists and gagged at the mouth. He was screaming at Mikey, trying to warn him, pleading with him to get out of here!

Mikey screamed back at him, begging wordlessly for Draxum to let him go, please, please!!

Instead, Draxum had one of his vines whip across the room and beat his son across the face. Mikey screamed, sobbing and wailing.

"STOP! NO!"

"He always was such a pathetic disappointment." Draxum turned to the other imprisoned turtle. "Perhaps you will show some promise."

No... n-no, this wasn't how it happened! Donnie w-wasn't -- he was never -- a-and Mikey wasn't awake for any of it, he was asleep for the entire thing! He shouldn't be awake now, he shouldn't be, he shouldn't -- H-he... no, no, no, no no no no nonononononononono!!

Draxum came forward with a needle and scalpel.

"Let's begin."

DvD couldn't stop crying, he just couldn't keep the tears from coming. Mikey was sitting on the floor, screeching his poor little head off, eyes wider than saucers and filled to the brim with fear. He couldn't move much, apart from shaking nonstop. He looked like he was constantly trying to wriggle away from something, but for some odd reason his wrists and ankles were invisibly anchored to the floor. Mikey's limbs twitched as he squirmed and struggled, screaming and begging for whatever he was witnessing to stop, please, please please please stop--

"WHERE IS IT, WHERE THE HECK IS THAT HAND, WHO'S SCREAMING, WHAT'S HAPPENING--?!"

Leon and the others rushed into the room, quickly inspecting the situation and coming upon the obvious conclusion.

"April, take Misa outside..." Leo said after inspecting the scene.

"Misa want to stay with Mikey--!" the little girl protested, but April quickly scooped her up and carried her off.

Leon and 'Phael immediately dropped to Mikey's side, Leo taking the box turtle's hand in his and trying to get him to wake up.

"Dee... fear spores, right?"

"...Yeah..."

"The hand."

"Yes."

"What... what is he seeing?" 'Phael asked nervously, eyes watering at the sight of his baby brother in so much pain.

"I... there's only one thing that could scare him this bad..."

"Draxum?" Leo whimpered.

DvD nodded.

"But... h-he doesn't remember anything from that, you said he was under heavy sedatives for the entire time!"

"He was! Draxum kept him under constant anesthetics -- perhaps his mind is creating an idea of what he thinks happened?"

Raphael started fidgeting with his hands.

"U-um... actually..."

The two boys looked up at him.

"'Phael? What... what is it?"

"...He told me not to tell ya..."

"Tell us what?" Leo questioned.

"H-he made me promise--"

"Raph," DvD said, his voice begging him in ways that words could not. "Please."

"He... he does remember. He does remember what happened in the labs."

Donnie and Leo stared. Mikey continued to sob and scream.

"...What... how... how could he know that... and how do you know that he knows?!" Leo asked, voice raising with each word.

"And why wouldn't he tell us?!" DvD asked in disbelief.

Raph swallowed nervously, a sweat breaking out across the worry lines on his brow.

"He... it started sometime after Karai arrived. H-he thought that m-might do with the mystic training she did with him -- but he started having... nightmares..."

"Nightmares?"

"He said he started dreaming memories about it. It was an out-of-body sorta thing, he said. Like he was watching from the outside... He could never get away from the visions, he said -- but every night, he saw a new one."

"And he... came to you about it? Why not ME?!" Leo yelled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Or Donnie?! Why not tell us?! We're ALL his brothers!!"

"He told me... he said he didn't wanna burden you."

"...Burden?" Donnie whimpered. "...How?"

Raphael looked back and forth between them all. His eyes fell on Leon.

"...He told me he didn't want you to feel... responsible for another thing," Raph mumbled. "He said he felt bad enough about everything he's made you worry over already, he didn't want you to..."

"...He didn't want me to know...? Because... he felt guilty?" Leo wept, tears pooling and spilling from his eyes. "That... I don't... he shouldn't have felt that way, why did he..."

Leo's eyes glossed over, he squeezed them shut, clutching Mikey's tiny fist and pressing it against his chest.

"How could I make him feel like that...?" he wept. "I never meant... I never knew..."

"But... why not tell me? I could have helped," Donnie said in-between uneven breaths. "I already knew what had happened!"

"That's... actually why he didn't come to you, Don," 'Phael explained. "He s-said, he said he didn't want to hurt you. He saw how much you were struggling and wanted to wait until you were... doing better about the whole ordeal. To be honest, I agreed with him on that mark."

"But why did he tell you?" Leo asked. "Why only you, and not us?"

"I s'pose... because he knew that I knew what it was like to be afraid all the time," 'Phael sobbed. "He knew that I wouldn't judge him for his fears. He couldn't sleep at night anymore, he needed someone to stay with him and help him through his fits... But I told him! I told him to tell you both! I told him you should know!" he cried, whimpering nervously as he wrung his hands and rocked back and forth.

"Raph! Raph, it's okay..." Leo tried to reassure him. "I mean... it's not completely okay... I wish he'd told me, but... that doesn't matter now."

Leo held Raphael close.

"We just... we need to be here for him now... How much does he know?"

"...Everything."

"...This isn't going to be easy for him," Donnie exhaled.

"Or us," Leon added.

The trio gathered close to Michelangelo, each laying their hands on him, a sign that they were there and they were offering comfort in the only way they could.

Mikey kept screaming, he couldn't stop screaming. No matter what his brothers tried, they couldn't snap him out of whatever horrors he was experiencing. They just kneeled beside him, holding his hands and hoping their support made some leeway.

But Mikey just kept screaming, shrieking, crying, weeping, wailing, sobbing. He howled until his throat ran dry and his voiced cracked and went hoarse. He wept until his eyes were red and irritated and his cheeks were stained with saltwater and starting to chafe and the area around his eyes went puffy and soft. And on he went. For what seemed like hours, days, years, centuries even -- but was probably only 15 minutes. Mikey was stuck in a loop of fits and fear.

And then finally, he slowed. His breathing calmed, his sobs turning to hiccups and suck-ups and hyperventilation, as his eyes darted around, looking for something familiar.

"Is... is it over?" Leo asked, internally begging for it to be so.

Donatello was heaving along with Mikey, his cheeks also stained with tears.

"I... I think--"

"D-Donnie?" Mikey whispered shakily.

"Mikey? I'm right here, I'm --"

"No... no, not Donnie, please, I--"

"Is, is he --?"

"He's not done with the hallucination yet," Donnie realised. "It's about to get so much worse."

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!" Mikey screamed, bolting forwards. His legs tangled underneath him, causing him to trip over himself. His arms were strained behind him, his ankles struggling against the ground, as if something was still holding him back.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HIM, WHAT IS HE SEEING DON?!" Leo screamed.

"Me," Donnie whimpered, holding back desperate sobs. "He's seeing what Draxum did to me. On the last day. When we fought...."

Mikey shrieked in agony, his eyes somehow producing twice as many tears as they had before in this one moment, pouring out for his brother's sake.

Mikey's screams were cut short, he gasped in horror. They all could assume what he'd seen. Draxum had killed Donnie in his hallucinations. Mikey went horribly pale. His eyes widened.

"No... no... no, no, no, get away get--!"

Mikey jerked suddenly. His body seized up, his eyes went wide, and then --

He fell backwards.

Back into the hold of his brothers, who caught him almost immediately.

"MIKEY!!"

Mikey didn't hear them, he simply lay in their arms.

Mikey stopped shaking. His limbs had gone slack. His body went limp. His eyes went somewhere far away from them all.

Mikey exhaled.

And he didn't inhale.

"...Mikey...?"

He didn't respond.

"What... what just happened?" Raph asked nervously.

"He didn't... he didn't just..." Leo begged, slowly placing his fingers against his neck. He paused. He tried the wrist next. He couldn't find any pulse.

"He didn't just leave us, did he?"

"...Michael...?"

Leo pounded his fist against the ground.

He wasn't going to give up his baby brother.

Leo placed his hands across Mikey's chest, applied pressure.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come on, Mikey, come on...!"

1, 2, 3 ,4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come ON, Mikey, COME ON! I'm not letting you go!"

DvD was crying, holding himself tight as tears soaked into his shirt and vest.

"Leo, stop... Leo, he... he..."

"Leon, mate, please, he--" 'Phael reached for him, attempting to comfort.

"COME ON!" Leo shouted, refusing to give up.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3--

"WAKE UP!!" he sobbed.

Mikey gasped for air.

His eyes blinked wildly as he bolted upright, limbs flailing about in a mad panic. Three bodies pounced upon him, wrapping themselves around him and sobbing into him. Mikey said nothing. He simply looked around in confusion, getting his bearings and perfividly coming back to reality. He listened, but couldn't hear them. Everything was numb and strange, every sound and image baffled him. All he knew was he hadn't been here anymore. But he was here again, now. Here with his brothers.

... I did not intend for this ...

Yes, I intended to send the spores.

And yes, I intended to have them sent after Donatello.

I even intended for them to miss him entirely, for Michelangelo to rush in his place and take the hit for him.

But I never intended this.

Michelangelo was meant to see a different fear entirely.

Michelangelo is afraid of being the frailest, the smallest, the weakest of the brood. Dear little Mikey is afraid that he has nothing of importance to offer. He is always relying on the others to help him, to save him. He has nothing to offer them in return. Mikey tries to do what he can, but deep down he is afraid that one of these days, his brothers will discover that HE needs THEM far more than they could ever need him.

Truly, THAT was what he was meant to see. I had no idea he would see... all that.

They told me no one would get hurt. They told me no one would die. They promised me. And they lied.

It was a good game while it lasted. But I'm not having fun with it anymore.

No one was meant to be hurt like this.

No one was meant to die.

I suppose this means I'll have to do what I can to fix things, now.

"L-Leo," croaked Mikey, who slowly raised his hand and pointed a trembling finger. "Hand…"

“What... what are you saying, Mike?"

“Hand,” Mikey clarified, stressing his wobbly finger as he gestured behind them.

The boys followed Mikey's direction.

The Hand.PNG was crawling towards them.

"G-Get it away from Mikey!" Leo screamed, kicking his feet in the creature's direction.

"Don't let it come any closer!"

"WHERE'S MY TECH-BŌ?!"

"Please, if you could simply pause for a moment, I'd like to make you an offer."

Everything stopped.

Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey froze, jaws dropping to the floor as they heard the hand speak at them.

"You... y-you can talk?" Mikey's voice came out grated and raspy.

"Yes."

"What... why are you just deciding to speak now?" Raphael asked.

"And why have you been tormenting us all?!" Donnie bellowed, gripping his tech-bō tightly as possible.

"And what did you mean, you wanted to make an offer?" Leon interrupted. "An offer for what?"

"I was wondering if I could offer you my services. How would you like to rescue your family and destroy the fear fungus?”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt misa #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #mutant april #mutant april o'neil #rottmnt april #until i found you #until i found you au #rottmnt until i found you #separated au #rottmnt separated au #fear spores #fear fungus #no fun in fungus #the void brothers #ficlet #long short story #fanfic writing #fanfiction #void brothers #void brothers au #queen of angst #rottmnt angst #cw surgery #cw body horror #cw abuse

[oddballwriter]

Triplets?!

Summary: A dumb thought I had and decided to write. 

Warnings: There isn't anything that I can think of other than just a misunderstanding that leads to something funny 

Author’s Snip: This was just a silly little post that I had come to mind when I heard the one MBMbam clip where its a person talking about how they call their male friends their "boys" and a drive thru worker thinks that the person is a parent, also a little bit of Reba McEntire's I'm a Survivor "A single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops" meme. This whole thing is kind of just a writing shit post.

Notes: This isn't proof read 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

It was an inside joke. With yourself.

As a joke you would call your Marc, Steven, and Jake your triplets even though they were your boyfriends. It was kind of like when a mom says "I have two children, three if you want to include my husband.". It wasn't meant to be mean. It was just a light hearted joke since they can sometimes be everywhere and your sense of domestically can be hectic.

Speaking of domestic things, you were currently grocery shopping but line was painfully long and slow for whatever reason. It wasn't all bad though. There was this nice lady named Cathy behind you, and you two had started having a full conversation after she made small talk about how long the line was. She was an older woman, maybe in her mid to late forties. You had offered to switch spots in line since she had more in her cart than you but she said she didn't mind and that you should be quicker either way. You could tell she was a mom just by the looks of her and how she was acting. She wasn't exactly mothering you but she was talking like how most moms talk to younger people compared to her.

Your conversations topic had just changed to something else when your phone rang. It was Steven.

"Oh, one of my triplets." you mumble under your voice before answering. The call wasn't much. He just called to ask if everything's alright since you've been out for longer than you said you would and some other things before you ended the call with an "I love you, bye.".

"Wow. Three of them? Huh?" Cathy smiled. You looked at her confused for a moment before realizing that she might have heard your mumble.

"That must be chaos." she said. "I have issues wrangling my kids and they're all different ages!" she adds with a laugh. You just nod along, but she still goes on with the new subject.

"How old are they?" Cathy asked, to which you respond with "Thirteen." since that seemed like a reasonable age for a 'kid' to have a phone. "Oh my gosh! Three of them and they're teenagers?" she pitied. "At such a young age like you too. Sweetheart, you deserve a metal." Cathy praised. "It's not that bad." you say as you try and go along with this accidental act you placed on yourself, "Only one of them is a troublemaker. The other two... well they stay inside at least." you joke, mostly for yourself.

Cathy had actually become very chatty and mostly took up the subject. She talked about how her eldest, Kimberly, was sixteen and that she was starting to talk to boys and stay out. Her second eldest, Noah, was starting to have an attitude with her. The middle, Jackie, was having issues in getting along in the classroom and during recess. And her toddler, Marie, was leaning manners and "That's going as good as you think it is." as Cathy put it.

You wanted to stop her so that you could leave but she was just so nice, and sounded like she needed to vent out some stress, so you let her go on while the casher checked out both you and her carts. Cathy did give you the note that her husband was also involved in the kids too but since she's a stay at home she was the frontline.

You felt a bit sad when you had to leave and head home. You didn't know if you'd meet Cathy ever again but you already missed her and said your goodbyes to her, with her of course saying "And best of luck with your triplets.".

When you got home Steven was there to help take in the bags but at a certain point when you locked eyes and laughed he asked what was up.

"There's a forty-something year old woman named Cathy somewhere in town and she thinks I'm a parent with teenage triplets." you confess.

#moon knight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #moonknight x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader

[lunargrapejuice]

Can i request ayato in like an arranged marriage au

oooo okay okay this was the first thing that came to my mind and i actually freaking love it, i hope you like it too! <3

kamisato ayato x fem!reader | 2.4k + words

warnings: arraganged marriage au, hurt/comfort (reader having nightmares) mutual pining, only pronoun used is 'my lady' (used once), maybe ooc ayato??? i'm still getting used to writing him djdjdkdk

by now you had grown accustomed to the loneliness of your marriage; periods of time where you wouldn’t see your husband for what felt like long days and somehow even longer nights surrounded by silken sheets that never seem to warm with only your body within them. but what right did you have to complain? neither of you had asked for this marriage and ayato did try, even with his plate already so full with all of his duties as the yashiro commissioner. 

even though they were few and far between, he had found moments in his ever busy schedule to take you out to tea or lunch and walk around the city. it did feel a bit stiff at first but in the two years you’ve been married it’s now grown more comfortable, something you look forward to and have found yourself longing for more of.

perhaps it was that longing getting the better of you that kept you from sleeping at night, that made you have little nightmares of a terrible future. or maybe it was the worry you held that ayato is working himself into the ground or how you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were truly falling in love with him. it’s ridiculous, you think. plenty of people are in love with their spouses but it felt even more ridiculous because you never thought you would be one of them, not in your arranged marriage that was more for politics rather than love. 

and yet here you were, standing in the kitchen of the yashiro commission with a robe wrapped tight around you, sipping on warm chamomile tea to try to calm your anxious heart after laying in bed for hours thinking about how if your love for him were to show it would only be a burden to him just to finally fall asleep and slip into a reality where he knew of your love but it did just as you feared. surely the last thing he needed was to worry about how to deal with your feelings that he didn’t return. 

“is everything okay y/n?” ayakas sudden voice in the quiet space startles you, the liquid in your cup nearly spilling over the edge when you jump in surprise. it’s so late, you didn’t expect her to still be up. “oh i’m sorry-”

“you’re fine, just surprised me was all,” you offer her a warm smile before putting your cup down and walking to the cupboard to grab another for ayaka, who looks just as tired as you feel. “couldn’t sleep?”

“i’m only now getting home actually,” she accepts the cup you offer her, golden liquid swirling with melting drops of honey. her lips tug up, happy but tired, as she takes in the calming aroma and how it might lull her to sleep right here and now. “what are you doing up so late? are you okay?” she asks again and you know you wont get anyway with not telling her. she could be quite persistent. 

“i’m fine,” you lie. you certainly did not feel fine with your way your heart still ached front the way your husband looked at you in your dream, with cold indifference, when you laid your heart bare for him. “it was just a silly nightmare.”

“i see.. did you happen to tell ayato?”

“oh!” your heart jumps at the mention of his name. “uhm.. no, i- i haven’t but it’s not a big deal anyways,” you try to brush it off. believing it really wasn’t a big deal compared to everything else ayato had to take care of but ayakas frowning lips say otherwise.  

it’s silent between you for a few moments, both of you drinking your tea and letting it warm your insides, seep into your tired muscles and hopefully bring you closer to getting some actual rest. it’s only when you’re getting ready to clean up before heading back to your room that ayaka speaks again.

“forgive me if it’s not my place to say,” she starts and the anticipation of what she's going to say lingers within your chest. ayaka was easily your best friend at the estate, you saw her more often than you did her brother and you adored being with her, but hardly did she comment on your relationship with him knowing how complicated it was. “no matter how big or small, i think ayato truly cares about how you’re doing and would want to know if something was wrong.”

“r-right,” you can barely get the words out with how your chest blossoms with heat and hope; hope that feels heavy, clouded in trepidation and yearning. only after not meeting her eye as you put the glasses away, taking a deep breath to calm your anxious heart, are you able to find your words again. “now let's both try to get some sleep, yeah? i’m sure you’ve had a tiring day.”

sleep was not in the cards for you tonight it seems. groaning from the slight pounding in your head while you wipe away the tears clinging to your cheeks, a gift from your shitty dreams, your eyes squint while looking towards the clock. the hands lit by the moonlight show it’s just after 3am. you can only hope ayaka is sleeping better than you and that ayato will come to bed soon, for both your sakes.

your sister in law's words linger in the back of your mind as you toss and turn in the sheets, trying to shake off the lingering bitter and heartbreaking memories from your dreams. would he really care to know that you’ve been having nightmares? and what would you even tell him if he asked about what they are? or worse, what if he already knew the reason.. there wasn’t much that got past the yashiro commissioner but perhaps his normal absence had made your overwhelming feelings for him go unnoticed, more important tasks and duties drawing his attention far away from you, which was just a whole other heartbreak of its own.

still.. despite your reservations, you slip from the sheets, too tired and upset to care about putting on your robe and instead take the blanket from the bed and wrap it around you. the soft fabric falls from your shoulders as you walk down the quiet hallway leading from your shared bedroom to the office of the commissioner on the other side of the house, the cold hardwood chilling your feet with every step.

you probably should have spent the time walking here to think about what you would say to him, what excuse you might use for being up this late and coming to see him but you're entire walk, until you’re standing at the closed door of his office, a faint light flickering through the bottom crack of the door, your thoughts were far from your reason as to why you were here, you only wanted to see him. but fuck this was a bad idea wasn’t it? if he’s up this late it’s because he’s busy.. you’re only bothering him.. and why would he care about a stupid nightmare? you were adult enough to get over it by yourself.. you had for so many nights already so why was tonight different?

ayatos mind was already far from the paperwork that sat on the desk when his attention was brought from the parchment to the shadow outside of his door. he waited patiently for a knock or the call of his name but when he looks at the clock in his office and sees the late hour, his first thought to who it could be is you. and truthfully.. he hopes it is.

he can imagine what would bring you to him this late at night and he can only hope it isn’t one of the worse options but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see you. perhaps that why you were here too..

when the figure outside his door continues to not disturb his work, the shadow slowly beginning to fade, he takes matters into his own hands. his quick on his feet, regardless of how tired he is, opening the door and calling out to you when there is no mistaking you, the moonlight illuminating your soft skin and tired eyes when you turn to meet him with surprise.

“ah- i’m sorry. i wasn’t meaning to take you from your work. i’m just heading back to bed so i wont bother you any longer,” you immediately say, sheepish and so unlike your normal smiling self and he must admit, it stings in his chest.

“you never bother me y/n,” he admits with a softness in his tone that he hadn’t used in a while, not since the last time he took you to tea but that was weeks ago.. he needed to find more time with you. would you see then that you weren’t a bother and never would be? “what are you doing up? is everything alright?”

“oh, uhm..” there's a look of contemplation on your face but something about how you smile, a bit defeated but almost.. sanguine, makes his heart palpitate oddly in his chest. “it’s silly but.. i had a nightmare..”

with quiet steps he walks over to you, reaching out to pull the sheets you have wrapped around you like a shield back over your shoulders. it’s almost always a bit cold in the estate at night.

“have you been having them a lot recently?” he asks, guiding you with a hand on your lower back into his office. “is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”

he notes how adorably surprised you seem when you look up at him, your eyes big as saucers and flicking in the candle light. “you.. you know about that?”

“i do,” of course he knew. he saw how the sheets were strewn wildly around your body when he finally made it bed, like you had tossed and turned all night, he noted the dark circles under your eyes in the moments he got to see you in passing, he heard you whimper in your sleep as he got ready for bed and felt how your body only relaxed once he joined you. “your well being isn’t something that goes unnoticed by me y/n.”

“yours doesn’t get past me either you know,” you say in a rather serious tone.

he chuckles quietly, sometimes you were more like him than he thought but he adored to see this side of you. he hopes you’ll show him more often.. “oh?” he quirks a brow at you as he settles onto the mat resting in front of his desk, grabbing your hand to guide you down with him. “are you perhaps worried for me, my lady?”

even in the dim candlelight he can see the way your cheeks burst with color at the name he called you. “and if i am?”

“then that would make us the same now, wouldn’t it? so tell me, have you been having nightmares regularly?”

he wasn’t going to let you get away with not answering him and after a moment, and a small pout that he found endearing, you finally let him in. “.. not every night but it's felt like a lot more recently.”

“is something troubling you?”

“no,” you lie and he knows it. “nothing worth mentioning at least.”

he stares at you sitting next to him, violet eyes clear despite the late hour, almost as if they can see what is going on inside your heart but you don’t look at him in return for long, breaking your gaze in favor of staring at the floor, the fingers of your free hand running over the decrotated mat at your side.

“come here,” he says, tugging at the hand of yours that he was still holding, relishing in how small it felt in comparison to his. you’ve never been reluctant to obey him when he asked you for things but still, something about how easily you scoot closer to him makes his chest swell unbelievely. “i’m afraid i have some more work to get through but you are welcome to lay your head on me until i’m finished and then we can retire back to bed together.” he motions to his lap, moving so his thighs can make a comfortable pillow for you to lay on.

but your own movements have stopped, frozen in place as if he had said something completely out of this world and you didn’t know how to react. he can only chuckle lowly in response, running his thumb over your knuckles to try to reassure you it was okay. 

“come on y/n,” he smiles, comforting and welcoming but teasing all the same. “we’ve shared the same bed for a couple years now. there's no need to be shy about resting your head on my lap.”

your cheeks grow warmer at that but you don’t protest.

“okay..”

as you settle into his lap, your head a comforting weight utop his thighs, he grabs his paperwork but still ignores it in favor of telling you a story in a quiet voice, soothing and soft. “my mother would always let me lay in her lap when i had bad dreams as a child.” you stop moving, looking up at him with eyes that blink slow and tired. 

“she was really amazing, wasn’t she?” you ask sweetly, voice laced with sleep.

“yes, she was.” your eyes grow even more tired when his free hand begins to run through your hair, deft and calming. “she would tell me there was no reason to fear when she was there with me and somehow she had always succeeded in keeping the nightmares away…” he stops there, not all that surprised to see you fighting off sleep in order to listen to more of him but he doesn’t continue his story of her. 

after a few quiet moments, violet eyes never leaving your figure, he watches as you fall into deep sleep, nuzzling your face closer to his torso. he wonders if you know how often you cling to him at night when he finally makes it to bed and if you felt how lovingly he held you in return until the sun barely peaked from the waters of the ocean to greet him for another long day away from you, hiding feelings he hadn't decide to admit but after tonight, when you found your way to him in such a state, wanting him - maybe even needing him- he's starts to wonder if he's been a fool for not confessing sooner.

his gentle fingers caress your still warm cheek, brushing the few loose strands of hair behind your ear and soaking in how peaceful you look in his lap, he might not get any more work done at this rate.  “i am much colder than my mother was but perhaps.. i can do the same for you, my love.”

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #genshin impact #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato #ayato x reader

[yoimix]

genshin men + mutual pining

ft. childe, ayato

playlist. disaster - conan gray ; accidentally in love - counting crows ; love, or the lack thereof - isaac dunbar

note. this has been rotting in my drafts for too long i’m sorry anon :((

[ requested by anon! ; cw: suggestive, alcohol ]

✽ childe thinks of you far too highly to try his usual tactics. he’s known you for more than half his life now, and best friends aren’t exactly cutting it for him. you’re not children in snezhnaya anymore, holding a wedding ceremony for your snowmen or getting yelled at by your mothers to hold hands after a big fight. there are graver stakes now. and people change. when you disagree, childe can’t just laugh it off obnoxiously to see you steam from the ears. when you have a serious fight, he can’t just hold your hand and say sorry till you agree to talk to him. no, he’d get a glare and if he’s lucky, a punch to the gut instead. maybe you’ll even tell him to piss off. you give him no hint of affection, and he’s starving for it. despite the warmth of your skin, your gaze is cold and it sends him into overdrive. perhaps you too believe that romance is forbidden for vassals of the tsaritsa. or maybe he’s plain mistaken, and you’re not his after all. even so, you make his heart pump blood all the way to his fingertips, sparking with electricity. the rush is unmatched when you smile at him. the confession is overdue. spilling it with alcohol on his lips, however, was not his ideal plan.

“(name),” childe slurs, a blissful smile on his face. “just please look at me. oh my, you’re so pretty.”

“ugh, tsaritsa guide me. the stench of alcohol.” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “just because the wine was free didn’t mean you had to glug fifteen glasses of them! what will the qixing think?!”

“that i’m the pride of snezhnaya?” he laughs loudly. “okay, okay, don’t get mad at me. but did you see? i outdrank all of those old fools! ugh, the little lady seemed unimpressed but that hardly matters. who did she think she was anyway? the yuheng?”

“she was.”

“oh.”

he pauses to blink slowly, before turning to you with a boyish grin. it’s horrifying how it makes your heart flutter, and you might as well plunge into the chasm before you admit that. the rain outside the hotel gets louder, and you just want this night to be over with. when morning comes, you can pretend childe didn’t make it look like you’re on a honeymoon to the entire city of liyue and half your subordinates.

“well, at least the crowd loved me.”

“and you’re going to be throwing up all night,” you huff, pulling him up by his shirt before he leans too far and faceplants onto the ground. instead, he takes it as an invitation to wrap his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. you’re not sure when, in the transition to adulthood, it started bothering you. he’s the last person you should be thinking about like that.

“ah, i love it when you hold me,” he grins with the glee of a kid watching fireworks. “this is so much more comfortable than my coat. how do you always have warm hands?”

“and how do you always manage to embarrass me in the most ridiculous ways?”

he furrows his brows, plush pink lips forming into a pout. “what did i do?”

“what, pretend to profess your love to me in public and crash a dinner party? i get that everyone was drunk and saying stupid shit but you didn’t have to rope me into it!”

“please, it was hardly a serious matter.” he waves his hand dismissively. “a little coworker outing, if you will. it’s a coincidence some qixing officials were having a dinner party.”

“it got so loud we were kicked out of the restaurant.” you might as well be steaming from the ears now. “what do you think the qixing will do if they see snezhnayan diplomats making trouble in liyue? you’re lucky i talked it out with the yuheng but goodness, you made us- you made us look so silly!”

you say it with so much distaste, childe flinches. the blood rushes to your face at the memory of him clinging to you the whole time you tried to explain to keqing that snezhnaya is in fact not up to weird schemes or trying to drown the harbor.

“aww, you had fun too. you were all cute and flustered talking to the qixing girl.”

“that’s because you made us look like a couple, stupid!”

“what’s so bad about that?” he asks quietly.

“oh my god, they think we’re dating.”

“we could be,” he responds softly, a longing sigh following. 

you turn to look at his face, flustered. you can feel his breath against your cheek, his ocean eyes trained on your own. when did he lean so close?

“you’re drunk,” you state bluntly. 

“but the truth is...” he pauses to giggle. “...is still that i love you.”

you gulp. “liar.”

he lets out a dry chuckle, running the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “don’t say that. i’ll just keep falling.”

“stop it, ajax.” a pang of hurt shoots through your chest, a wistful weed blooming between your ribs. he only wants you when he’s drunk, does he? you should’ve expected no better from mr casual himself.

“i know you think you’re smooth, but you’re taking it too far now.” you take a deep breath, trying not to get too upset. he’s just drunk.

“how far do you think i can take it?” he breathes over your skin, leaned far enough to kiss you if he wanted to, if you wanted to. the flush of his cheeks rivals his oh-so-pink lips, but it’s the vulnerability in his eyes that throws you off. you always thought they were starry like the reflection of the night sky over the ocean. the others, however, describe stormy seas, with no guiding light for miles. 

the consequences to mistaking his feelings is just too catastrophic for you to bear.

“(name), stop.” he comes to a halt abruptly, twisting his wrist from your grip to grab yours instead. you’re suddenly pulled into his chest, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth.

“let’s go home, ajax,” you press, impatient. you didn’t mean to say that, especially when it doesn’t make sense so far from home. you’re just used to saying that when he’s being difficult.

“i am home.” he frowns, gloved hands holding onto both of your wrists. his eyes are pleading, but for what you don’t know. “and did you miss my entire i love you speech or did i imagine saying that?”

“you’re drunk out of your mind and just saying—”

“i’m not. i’ll say it to you in the morning, i’ll say to you tomorrow and the day after and i’ll keep saying it till you just look at me.”

you finally meet his eyes—the intense azure you’ve known all your life begging for you to see him the way he does you. there were better ways to go about this. what did you expect from this walking disaster?

you hold his face between your thumb and forefinger, his cheeks puffing up. he looks too adorable and it’s pissing you off. before you can have any second thoughts, you quickly press your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. pulling back, you can only hold it in for two seconds before the expression on his face makes you burst into laughter.

“do that again,” he mumbles, a dazed smile on his face.

you grant him a quick kiss.

“again.”

kiss.

“and again.”

“you used to say three is the lucky number.”

he pouts. why did you have to fall in love with this manchild?

sighing, you grant him one final kiss, a satisfied sigh parting from his lips. “happy now? it’s time to go to bed, ajax.”

“woah, (name), is that why you wouldn’t kiss me? because you had other plans in the bedroo—”

“no. you’re going straight to sleep.”

he hums, smiling. “i love you.”

“mhm. i can tolerate you.”

“hey.”

“i love you too.”

✽ ayato’s self-restraint is the bane of your existence. he will look at you with his sharp lilac gaze, glance at your lips even, but he will do nothing more than a light touch to your hand or a flick to your forehead on certain occasions. it’s as though he’s aware of the rapid beating of your heart—but he refuses to be anything more than a tease. lately, he’s taken to leaning in closer than before when he pretends to not hear you during your evening walks. is he not aware you can feel his breath? and sometimes, he will place his hand on the small of your back to guide you. does he not know his touches light your skin on fire? honest to god, you hate him beyond measure at this point. when young love grows old, it’s only natural to harbor resentment too. you resent that teasing smile, you resent those playful eyes, you resent the mole by his lips you want to kiss so bad. and just like that, your heart is another piece he’s captured in this game of chess. in a way, though, you understand his roundabout ways of doing things. a man in his position ought to behave. for instance, right now, he shouldn’t be taking your hand outside a social gathering of inazuman elites, and running away like a schoolboy skipping class.

“are you sure you can do this?!” you huff, trying to keep up with ayato. there’s an idle sense of joy to his pace, his posture still elegant.

you, on the other hand, look like you just survived a dumpster fire. disheveled from the running, you finally catch a break once he stops by the torii gates of chinju forest.

“well, wasn’t that fun?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “archons, the blabbering these men do. half a night and all i heard were complaints about their wives and their boring, unambitious ideas for inazuma.”

you whistle. “i never know how you handle your meetings. each one sounds worse than the last.”

“yes, but i can’t brute force my job like some people do.” he gives you a pointed look. 

you glare at him. “well, some occupations don’t require being a crafty, meddling rascal. you wouldn’t know.”

“i like that about you,” he says, quieter. his gaze is soft, like a field of blooming hyacinths. it catches you off guard. 

“w-well- i- uh i- i have a lot more likeable traits than you give me credit for,” you defend, unable to return his gaze.

“so do i,” he responds, a sly smile playing on his lips. “a lot more than you give me credit for.”

“i never said i didn’t,” you mumble in defeat. 

a firefly beelines for ayato’s shoulder but he gives no care towards it. instead he finally takes out the cup of boba tea from the little bag you’ve been carrying. the proximity of his face when he reaches, however, makes you hold your breath longer than intended. it’s so unfair that he’s this pretty. he smiles when he meets your gaze, taking out the other cup for you.

“you’re so easy to talk to, (name),” he sighs. there goes your poor heart.

you hum, tearing your eyes away from him. you’re hardly thinking as you blabber on. “you- you too. i... i don’t say this often but you... you’re a good person, ayato. i wish i could be with you forever.”

realizing what you said within the next fraction of a second, you straighten up, eyes widened in panic. it’s not the first time you’ve been reduced to a stuttering mess in front of the yashiro commissioner. curse your reckless tongue.

“forever?”

“i- i mean, i want to fall for a guy like you someday,” you laugh awkwardly, smacking his arm. what on teyvat are you saying? you have fallen for a guy like him and it is him. 

ayato presses his lips into a thin smile, eye twitching in annoyance.

“wh-what i mean is, it- it would be nice to be with someone like you,” you try to save and miserably fail.

you might as well get a shovel and start digging your grave right here in the forest. maybe the tanuki will dance over your dead body for entertainment. anything to get out of this situation that you, all by yourself, got into.

slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to the source of your misery.

“boba?” 

ayato looks at you expectantly, pressing the straw to your lips.

you nod, fighting the heat growing on your face. he’s too pretty.

“you know, i like it when you say these things to me.”

he’s always been a rude rascal. his smile is cheeky, yet it relieves of you any uncomfortable thoughts like rain on a hot summer day. i want to protect that smile, you thought to yourself once. it’s so rare to see him like this, as just ayato—your friend ayato who taught you to play (and lose) shogi, who gave you his best onikabuto whenever you sulked about yours, who smiled knowingly while you screeched about his awful cooking and showed him the directions again. how many afternoons had you spent with him till he was lost to the rhythm of life? if there really is a god to hear you, you’d pray for ayato to smile like this all the time.

“what do you mean?” you ask softly.

“you said once,” he muses, “that you want me to find someone who likes me for me.”

“i did?” you clear your throat. “i mean, i’d like that too. i- like- isn’t that what everyone wants? to be with someone who likes them as a person?”

“i like you as a person.”

you breathe in too hard, the tapioca pearls caught in your throat as a result. an ugly cough follows till ayato’s patting your back in a concerned motion. you finally spit out the boba, which unfortunately lands in a bush nearby, spooking some foxes.

“oh.” he looks like he’s holding in a laugh. “come now, this is no place to litter.”

“shut up.” you glare at him. “if you didn’t say things so suddenly—erm.”

you’re not sure how to explain yourself. his statement could be taken the wrong way, and you don’t want to be the first one to reveal yourself. if this is a game of shogi after all, you intend to win at least one against him.

“hm? is that what gets you so flustered? a few words from me?”

“you wish,” you huff. 

you feel his warm chuckle against your ear, and the warmth spreads down your neck. you turn to face him, feeling a bit stupid for reacting this way.

“what is it you want to say to me? hm? be honest, now. we're far past playing games, aren't we?"

"i don't know what you're talking about." you feign ignorance, hiding behind your fan.

you take a deep breath, hoping his presence will help you calm yourself. he's such a handful and you know it, but he also makes you feel so alive.

"oh? we can keep playing this game then," he hums, smiling. "you haven't won once against me, you know?"

"th-there's been several times i've beaten you in shogi," you huff.

"by cheating."

"i never cheat!"

“that smile is foul play,” he whispers. there’s barely a gap between your lips and ayato looks like he might just close it.

you feel panic rising. quickly, you press your palm to his mouth, effectively stunning him. it’s honestly cute to see him make this expression.

“we’re friends!” you blurt. “r-right? but god, there are things we can’t do when we’re just friends and you- you just keep testing my patience, ayato!”

a muffled response follows. you take a deep breath and remove your hand.

“it’s like you were going to kiss me,” you complain quietly, embarrassed.

he blinks monotonously. “but i did want to kiss you.”

your face heats up at an alarming rate. “huh? are you supposed to say that out loud?!”

“how else am i supposed to know?”

“know what?”

“if you want to kiss me or not.”

“i always want to kiss y—”

you clasp your hands over your mouth, embarrassed beyond thought. there is no way you said that out loud. the spark in ayato’s eyes only brightens to a more mischievous look.

“you said it yourself,” he says casually, “there are things we can’t do if we’re just friends.”

he takes a step closer. “and i want to do them with you, (name).”

you open your mouth but no response forms.

“so will you please let me kiss you?” he completes, the frustration built over the years finally fizzing out.

“yes,” you say, without thinking, admiring the beauty mark by his lips.

after all, in a sighing forest of promises unkept, who’s to tell of a nobleman’s kisses?

#childe x reader #ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #childe fluff #childe x you #ayato x you #kamisato ayato fluff #ayato fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #ayato imagines #childe imagines #yoimix.hc #yoimix.req #zoo wee mama i wanted to write kaeya for this but that's for christmas ig

[lilyrizzy]

silly little something about max & daniel watching 'how to build a sex room'. day 6 of the 12 days of maxiel advent calendar for @catofthecanals289

"I think this lady thinks she is much more kinky than actually she is."

It's winter break, which means they are in the middle of the rare collection of lazy weeks, that feel both endless and never quite enough. During this time they can be normal people, can spend days getting tanned- or sun burnt, in Max’s case- and evenings lounging on sofas, cuddled close despite Australia's scorching summer, can drink a beer and watch crappy TV.

Like, 'how to build a sex room.'

Max's head lifts from where it was resting on Daniel's chest to give his scathing review of Melanie, the British host who is strangely obsessed with floggers. The rest of his body stays tucked securely underneath Daniel's arm, where it belongs.

"I don't know baby," Daniel says, shrugging only one shoulder so as not to jostle Max around. His fingertips trace patterns across the top of Max’s pale arms, imaginary tattoos Daniel would like the idea of putting there, if the idea of defacing Max’s skin wasn’t worse. "There are like, different levels of kink I guess."

Max snorts, apparently unimpressed by Daniel's reasonings.

"This, of course, I know," he says petulantly, "but why is she always pulling out her metal butt plug like it is the wildest thing ever. I know even people who are not gay use those. Martin does."

Daniel laughs at Max’s idea of not kinky being his world famous DJ friend, who must have a shag in every major city. The sound bounces around the ranch’s living room, the entire house having become an echo chamber of happiness recently, their giggles never too far away.

"Well, not everyone can be as wild as you, Max Verstappen," he says easily, watching Melanie reveal another sex dungeon that must have a few too many clichés for Max’s liking, if the way he wrinkles his nose up at it is any indication. "Not everyone can be as lucky as me, I guess."

This seems to please Max. Enough to have a pink flush spread across the top of his cheekbones, and for him to watch the remainder of the show with significantly fewer critiques. It gives Daniel time to ponder.

Butt plugs, spanking and handcuffs were all things he didn't try until his late twenties. Until Max, really, until he had someone in his bed enough nights in a row that it felt safe to bring up ideas of what he might want or like, outside of head and a good fuck. Things he’d been worried would be too strange, would say something about him to strangers he wasn’t quite ready to say to himself.

Max, on the other hand, had been shameless. Since the very first time Daniel had braved a conversation starting with, ‘don’t you think it could be fun to try,’ he had been willing and ready for any of Daniel’s wants, but he’d also wanted in return. Had opened his eyes to a whole new collection of Max’s desires only for them to become Daniel’s too.

It is one of the thing Daniel loves so much about him. Not his kinkiness, but how he is never ashamed of being anything other than wholly himself.

"I still do not understand why there is the room," Max half mumbles, his voice bringing Daniel back to the TV. His lips catch on Daniel's nipple as he speaks. Its too hot for t-shirts. "Can these people not just be kinky in their bed?"

Daniel hums, considering. Then, thinking back to comments both their sisters have made-

"Maybe it's hard," he suggests, "like if they have kids and stuff."

Then again, because he's feeling brave-

"Maybe we'll be commissioning Melanie to build us a whole sex house, you know, when we have little terrors."

Max's breathing catches; Daniel sees the way it stops and then shudders out from his chest in one long exhale. When he rolls his head back to look up at Daniel again, his cheeks are pinker, but his smile softest one he knows how to curve his mouth into, reserved usually for their nieces and nephews.

"Okay," is all he says, like it really is that easy. Daniel still remembers realising years ago and with a shock, that for them maybe it could be. "A sex house, for when we have babies. I'm holding you to that promise."

“Deal,” Daniel says, holding this his hand up for Max to shake. The awkward angle of it while cuddled together makes them both laugh again, and Daniel can’t resist letting the laughter linger by tickling Max’s side.

There are no more serious questions to ask about their future that they don’t already know the answer too, deep down. Some things in life have been a given to him since Max Verstappen joined Red Bull Racing; he was going to be a world champion, Daniel was not, and they were going to spend their lives loving each other in spite of that. Whatever each of them wanted that life to look like, the other would be on board.

There are some things Daniel doesn’t know though. Some things he has to ask. Like-

“Can it be cowboy themed?”

#i've not had time to reread this so any errors etc are my own #its just something silly and fun #max/daniel #fic

[shieldofiron]

We have totally totally never talked about this before but I’m gonna bring it to your asks

Big (dilf? Kind of? Maybe) dom Billy who’s just like the most experienced kinkster ever but refuses to wear clothes that aren’t knitted and has the strongest prescription glasses and refuses to get a phone more modern than the brick

Then Steve who’s like hyper modern party animal and is immediately like “I want him” the moment they meet but keeps trying to drop thirst traps on tiktok and obviously Billy doesn’t even know what tiktok is

It’s a comedy of errors which I love

Oh I do like it. But I think I'm gonna add... Doctor Hargrove and Nurse Harrington into the equation.

Heather was always trying to show him her phone. He didn't necessarily see the appeal, but it was easy enough to just sit through whatever inane video she wanted him to watch. He was tired from a twelve hour shift might as well just let it happen.

Today he was really annoyed because his new t-shirt had a tag and he'd cut it out but he could still feel the scratching even though he'd taken it off hours ago.

"Can it wait until later?" Billy sighed, closing his eyes and resting against the back of her couch.

"No, it cannot wait until later," She tossed her hair to the side, "It's you, Billy."

"Me?" Billy shook his head without even consciously thinking of it, "Like when I texted you to pick up that lube I like?"

"No, and I'm not doing that by the way," Heather's perfectly painted lips quirked up into a smile, "No, it's a video of you."

"Someone took a video of me? What? Is that legal?" Billy leapt for her phone, grunting when she pulled back quickly and he flopped to the couch.

"It was at that grocery store you go to by the hospital that has terrible produce, not like, in your bathroom," She shook her head.

He sighed, "Okay fine."

He fully expects to see some video of him doing something clumsy, but instead it's just him, at a far distance. He's wearing the scrubs he wore on Monday, with the Scotty dogs, and he's still got his stethoscope on, yawning in the bread aisle. The video doesn't show his face, but it's unmistakably Billy, down to his old school digital watch.

A cheery robot voice says, "When you see your work crush outside of work." The video then cuts to a darkened car dashboard.

"I don't even know if I got groceries. I blacked out," A man's voice says with a laugh.

Billy frowns, "What is this?"

"It's tiktok, Billy," She swipes up and it cuts to one of Heather's favorite astrology videos, that she's showed him before.

"Wait, go back to the guy," He asks, grabbing for her phone.

She rolls her eyes, "Okay fine. Like you don't get enough ego boosts at the club with everyone begging you to be their dom."

"This is different. This is, actually me," Billy reaches out but she navigates back to the first video, tapping until another video fills her screen.

"What people think you do as a male nurse," the same cheery robot lady's voice says. A beautiful man fills the screen, wearing scrub bottoms and a silly costume nurse's hat.

"I'm here to take your temperature," The man bends close to the camera, brown eyes sparkling as he shamelessly angles his hairy chest towards Billy.

"Oh no," The man puts his hands to his cheek, "It seems you have sexy sex disease. I guess I'd better..."

He turns, arching his back just a little and Billy's mouth goes dry. beauty marks are scattered across his toned back, and he looks back coyly over his shoulder. The video cuts off.

"What I actually do as a male nurse," The robot voice says. It cuts to the same guy, his pretty fluffy hair a mess under a thick headband. He's got glasses on, and ugly, the Grinch themed scrubs.

"And you say it got stuck up there by accident?" He purses his pretty pink lips and writes something on a clipboard, "Okay, sure."

Billy laughs, "Heather, how do I get to this on my phone."

"Oh my god," She rolls her eyes, "Spare me from the Nokia."

"Well, then, what... how do I see the other videos?"

Heather complains, but as she sets him up on his ancient laptop. He has a tiktok account now, that only follows one thing, NurseStevie.

Heather watches a few more with him and then laughs, "I gotta go meet Barb for dinner. But I'll give you a hint. He works in pediatrics."

#harringrove ficlet #harringrove #asks #max i hope you like it #steve x billy #billy x steve #billy hargrove #doctor au

[swordsandarms]

Saw this post by @queenaryastark and just wanted to add my two cents in spite of the problem always having been that people just want things to be what works better for them and "to make sense" in a simplified way and don't want to hear otherwise-

There are a very few things known about Elia Martell - that the author finds relevant enough to even share with us about a small background character - and yet one of those few things is that she had a good relationship with her arranged husband (political, non-romantic and all, "complex", but he took the time to outline that it was not one of those cases when these things have negative connotations). The only other relationship I can think of that he finds relevant enough to be known the quality of is that with her brothers - because it is a key element to the Dornish plot, no less. And he places her dynamic with Rhaegar beside it!

# No, we do not know that she was best friends with Ashara and depended on her and that she would have done anything out of love and how she was angry because her life was actually awful because of her husband! (she's merely one of a dozen ladies in waiting - a political position meant to benefit one's noble family - who just happens to be the only named one, and that for other plot reasons than Elia)

# No, we do not know that Rhaella loved her dearly and hated her son and thought he was so awful and they both see him as awful and (a silly puerile little fic that made me laugh once) wanted to make her "Crown Princess" ...instead .... somehow! We don't even know if they had a relationship. They didn't live in the same city, and Rhaella's day to day life is heavily monitored and controlled at ths point in her life. It's questionable whether they could even be in any amount in eachother's confidence, hence, even through letters, even if you take out the distance.

ETC.

We don't even know what kind of relationship she had with her own mother. People just want it to be good. They don't want details like putting a daughter with frail health in a very dangerous situation no matter how "responsible" Rhaegar turned out to be for ambition and spite against a political adversary to speak of anything negative. And I'm not saying it is a must for it to have been negative. What I am trying to get to is people are trying to write any other relationships of hers we know nothing about, or might not exist, or might actually have negative correlations from as much as we know as definitely deep and good and rewrite the only other relationship we are given other than her brothers that we are actually told what it was, and make it bad and weak instead. We don't know her dynamic with her own mother to be good, yet we know it is with Rhaegar.

It is a noted fact in the story, and the fact that the author cares little or not at all about others on the other hand but this was noteworthy to write makes it significant, too. And it isn't even a matter of being isolated and lonely and making do because she has no one else to have a pleasant relationship with. She is surrounded by men and women alike, Dornish no less, loyal to her, and they also get along with Rhaegar.

And if we are to take most of Dany's vision of them as real (as there are details like him seeming to talk to her at the end that may be skewy) then they are on good terms until nearly the end. If fanon that claims she hated him/thought herself as slighted and humiliated after the flower crown were true, then this would actually do characterise her as a simpleton/'doormat' instead, which there being an understanding behind his action would not and it doesn't seem to me that the author wants Elia a simpleton.

Yeah, yeah, consequences of his actions ultimately hurt her, though. And so people walk backwards then on the apparent idea that if someone's actions hurt you in any circumstances, then it can only be willful, and someone doing something that ends up hurting someone can only be an 'abuser' and such. All over the place, there are dramatic fanon theories about these two to rewrite what is canon of their dynamic as 'abuser' and 'victim', so that it would simplify the concept of his actions indirectly hurting her.

Canon doesn't support that. Canon gives the fact that he removes his arranged wife from the capital where there is the danger of his father, although that means the removal from the centre of political power, during a very tense political dynamic (literally described as 'like before the Dance'!). Canon says that when Aerys' cruel actions start a Rebellion, and he removes Elia and her children from the relative safety of Dragonstone (with authority no one can undo), Rhaegar comes forth to lead Aerys' armies. And fanon (against previous signs) paints it as him being a one-dimensional evil creature (from the author praised to write things complex) who cares not about fighting Lyanna's family or his lawful spouse and children being in danger near that man... rather than the fact that he is known as looking out for Elia's safety from his father, told to have had his last straw after said father rejects his daughter that he seems to have inspired love and trust in - hence the likelihood of him being caught in between and having no more choice than Dorne. Less, because he also has to go against the family of the girl the author says he's 'lovestruck' about also, because Aerys is dangling Elia and the children, that the author cared to give hints he cares about. Or the fact that he hints of having reached THE breaking point about his father as a follow-up fact at this point through Jaime's memory.

"Are you saying she was complicit in endangering herself? On purpose?"

It is very exhausting to hear such a train of thought from people who supposedly read books, and understand how conflict works, and that being a 'realistic story' with complex characters it means they don't know/understand everything and things are out of their control and happen unexpectedly.

That's how you get ridiculous theories such as "Rhaegar then planned it all to go exactly how it went and knew each thing that would happen and it was for some magical mass sacrifice or whatever!!" Because this is how things work. People make plans and it happens exactly as they expect, bullet points and all. And you'd have millions claiming that's a good writer who does well foreshadowed 'shocks' that the character would not know about and needs to be re-read to fully comprehend and appreciate.

Yeah, it doesn't mean that the plans and goals they may have had would be summarised as 'choosing Rhaegar mistresses from a catalogue' the way I saw it put somewhere. Yeah, that is dumb. But if we don't have the information on characters' train of thoughts from a point in time we don't fully understand, it doesn't mean it is fine to change base facts (the relationship of the two) to make a simple version that explains it away.

"Are you saying she is dumb to think this or that would work certain ways, whatever they thought they were doing/going towards for whatever reasons?"

Again, are we even reading books here? Have we not seen smart characters (sometimes older than these 2) making certain sound sounding choices with certain predictions at the time, and in the end none working out and everything falling apart? Don't we applaud it as good writing? Isn't Varys for example cathegorised as one of the BIG manipulators of history and planner, yet what we hear from people working for Young Griff is the frustration of plans changing all the time because what he predicts/wants/plans doesn't work as intended multiple times?

And since we're on the topic and fanon has mythologised characters like her into ridiculous heights, let's stop for a second to think who Elia Martell would be as a (actually honest) baseline. Young, inexperienced, sheltered by privilege as anyone of her rank and more so for her own health (according to her brother), very optimistic sounding, etc. Yes, most likely intelligent (described as witty), but it doesn't change the implications of the previous qualities. Rhaegar is also most of that (at least idealistic if not optimistic) - though I would say he would at least have the perspective of "harsh realities" due to his family situation, while hers was a loving one as far as we're concerned. So, yes, she could have even made/agreed with "naive plans" as well as him, and they could even have been intelligent about it too, as they both seemed to have been, but it being beyond the point because the world works chaotically and there's no smart enough character that never had plans go wrong ever in ASOIAF.

Another thing that I mentioned but want to emphasise again, though it is hard to believe that a fandom that wouldn't give a break even to characters 16 and younger for 'miscalculations' and not having it all figured out and not doing everything perfectly is... they are both young, too! I don't know what's the overall age demoraphic in this fandom, but it always baffles me that this is not addressed - early 20s is clueless, young, and inexperienced. If one is past it they should know it. There are way too many young characters I guess to conceptualise that (but, again, it is not like this fandom give the VERY young characters a break also so I don't know), but it is very odd when these two are seen as 'very adult' who should have known better (Rhaegar) or knew 100% everything like some 'hit by godly visions' Cassandra (Elia), especially, again, when you account for both being inexperienced and privileged. The 16 and lower characters we know would rank above them both (especially sheltered Elia!) simply by actually being forced into learning experiences.

All in all, whatever the details are or how things can be explained from that point on, people have to accept the fact that the writing makes it more understandable that they would have been 'in cahoots' rather than a cartoonish evil being and a young woman without agency whatsover that is cutie pieing with the man who she is also angry at for doing some great misdeed against her.

Would she think otherwise by the end, when all fell apart? Would there be targeted hate and blame? We can theorise either way, but I am thinking how Lyanna is theorised as such in spite of the author writing roses in her hand when she dies in the same wavelength as writing her brother's hand holding hers - just like we only know of noteworthy positive relationships in Elia's life being a brother and Rhaegar, to the writer.

Sorry, but we're reading a story, and if you don't like what the author writes and implies it's fine. But at the same time you are wrong by default in 'predictions' as to what he would write next instead.

"You are victim blaming if Elia thought or did anything ever than being a silent perfect victim who just had things happening to her while having the foresight of a God and the wisdom of a 100 years old and if it were up to this sheltered inexperienced early 20s woman she would have REAISTICALLY Mary Sued her way through it and everyone would agree and kiss her feet. REALISTICALLY!!!"

No, you are. This fandom is famous for victim blaming (young) female characters most of all who have no control over circumstances around them, not being able to predict the future, not having experience, or just mean well and think better of the world, as long as they are anything but 'perfect victims' whose whole act is expcted to be being pitiful stoned mummies that things happen to, and are held up to unfair standards by the heavy in expectations pedestal that's supposed to be a compliment.

#elia martell #asoiaf #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaegar x elia

[soulinheehee]

Mais maintenant je suis seule

˚⁺‧ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵)

˚⁺‧ 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦: 𝘧𝘪𝘤 (𝘴𝘧𝘸), 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥

˚⁺‧ 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: this was an idea I had for awhile before 4.2 dropped. i originally wanted it to be long, but I just couldn't manage the length i wanted, and then the last aq dropped and made half of the story i imagined pointless with the plot twist lol. but I still like this idea a lot, so in the end i decided to write it, albeit it came out a little silly. but since I had to shorten the length and cut off half of the plot that was meant to be here, this might feel rushed and have weird pacing, especially in the second chapter where reader will actually meet with arle, i hope you don't mind ♡ (sorry to the french speakers if there's a mistake in the title)

part one. part two.

"Ughh..."

You groaned as you stretched your tired body. Sitting for several hours straight playing Genshin definitely was nice, but not for your health. You opened your Battle Pass menu to check your weeklies: you've done everything for the most part, except..

"Damn it, I forgot weekly bosses again..." you thought. You were currently saving for the Hydro Archon's release, and most of your favorite characters were already built in a way that satisfied you enough, so you didn't have any point of doing the weekly bosses, since Furina is going to need the next one. Wasn't surprising that you were constantly forgetting about them.

You opened the Teyvat map, only to discover that your resin was spent, save for the few regenerated ones. Spending fragile when the new weekly (and regular) boss was just a few days away wasn't a smart decision, you supposed, so you just decided to leave it for tomorrow.

Tomorrow was also Sunday, so you could make a few runs in the Talent or Weapon materials Domain. With these thoughts you logged out of Genshin, turned off the device you were playing on, and made your bed for the night.

The thought of scrolling your feed was prevented from being performed by the fact that your phone was currently charging. Sighing and realising that there probably weren't much interesting things going on, you finally gave up and lied down.

...

... Only to remember about the Transient resin that you haven't bought from the Tea pot. The feeling of dissatisfaction suddenly appeared, filling your mind. Well, at least you didn't forget to feed your fish: one thing less to worry about, that's something...

You remembered about the upcoming banners, just a couple days away. When the thoughts of pulling Furina, ascending and building her appeared in your mind, you gradually calmed down. She was coming home next week. You just have to wait a few more days.

You were saving for Furina since she was first leaked, and other than her there were only a few more characters you were interested in. Mainly, Arlecchino.

Last year, she caught your eye immediately in that Fatui trailer, and now, after playing the recent archon quests you couldn't help but feel even more attracted to her. These two quickly became your most favorite characters in the game, everyone else looking barely as good compared to them. But it seemed like Arlecchino's banner was still far away, however on the other hand you could save for her some more primos.

Thinking about your favorite characters you calmed down completely, the tiredness from today catching up to you, and you didn't notice how you fell asleep.

***

Knock-knock

The sudden sound woke you up. The bright morning lights hurt your sleepy eyes, so you hid your face back into the stuffed animal you slept with.

"Lady Furina, your breakfast is ready!"

...

"Lady Furina?"

Wait... what the hell did the person behind the door talk about? Is that one of your relatives pranking you, and you just can't recognize their voice because you're sleepy?

You quickly remembered how bright the lights in the room were. You rose from the bed, tossing the sheets away, but when you did so, you almost tripped on your own hair, its length being right between you and the mattress. This wasn't right! Your hair was never that long! You took one of the locks in your fingers and brought it closer to your face to look at it, and, just like you expected, it was unnaturally silver-blue coloured.

What the actual hell!!

The voice behind the door called for you again:

"Lady Furina, are you awake?"

"Y-yes, I am," your shaking voice sounded completely foreign. The fact that it now sounded so different from your own scared you to death.

The door opened, revealing a maid with a food tray. She entered the room, and placed "your" breakfast to you. Her concerned gaze scattered all over you, as if she was trying to understand what was happening with you, but when your eyes met with hers, she quickly averted her gaze and walked away from the bedroom. Your eyes never left her figure, until she had completely disappeared from your view.

You looked down at the tray.

A bunch of sweet desserts, decorated with various little sprinkles and edible glitters, complete with a cup of tea.

...

You didn't know what to think. Did someone drug you while you were asleep? Drugged and kidnapped you, because this whole room wasn't in your house!

But then again, you did hear about some people sometimes having very hyperrealistic dreams. You tried pinching yourself; of course, nothing happened. Not like it ever did in any of your dreams, anyway. You also remembered that some people's dreams could be so realistic, they were unable to tell them apart from the actual reality. They were waking up, living their day, falling asleep, waking up, and all over again, and it was still a dream. A dream inside of a dream was also a possibility you don't want to exclude.

And Furina's banner was just a few days away!!!

Yes, yes! Your brain just got so overstimulated with thinking about her, that now you're having a hyperrealistic dream about being Furina. This explanation of the situation didn't sound half bad, and even excited you a little.

You remembered every street in the Court of Fontaine, probably even most of the parts in the rest of the nation, at least the released parts of it. Strolling down the street, getting a ride on an aquabus, watching a trial from Furina's throne? Yes, please! The possibility of living a day as Furina, albeit in a dream, now got you hyped, you quickly finished your breakfast (it tasted divine!) and got up.

A very fancy night gown, with lots of frills and a few bows here and there, was rid of. In the closet that you supposed was full of clothing, you fetched yourself a resemblance of Furina's outfit. Strangely, you couldn't find exactly the things that she was wearing in the game, but you didn't pay much attention to this detail.

You looked in the mirror at Furina's vanity. You really did look just like her now! The weird jellyfish haircut, heterochromic eyes, a silly ahoge... Well, now the only thing that you needed was to meet all of Fontaine's playable characters, and you're good to return back to the real world, even if you didn't like the idea of it.

Another maid came soon enough, this time to take the tray away.

"Lady Furina?"

You glanced at her.

"Here is your schedule for today," she said. You took the piece of paper from her, scanning it, only to...

... Find out that it's written in fontainian language.

The maid seemed to notice your confusion, so she tried to help you: "Lady Furina," she started sheepishly, "are you feeling unwell?" You looked at her, trying to figure out if there was a way she could help you. She took it as a sign to continue, "You've slept in this morning, and now you are much less lively than usual. Is something wrong, Lady Furina?"

"Yes, you are very observant!" You did your best to imitate Furina, but it still fell flat, lacking proper emotion. "Your Archon is feeling unwell today, but rest assured, it is nothing that I, Focalors, can't endure!"

...

Does Furina even talk like that?

"...But I would appreciate a little help!"

The silence was too loud.

"Would you like me fetching an assistant for you, Lady Furina?"

Thank goodness!!! You didn't have to ask anything too specific yourself!!! Furina's servants were, just like you said, very observant, probably used to Furina's antics.

"Yes, an assistant would suffice! Thank you," you once again imitated what Furina might say, still not sure if you're in character or not.

But in any case, some time after, an assistant came to you, while you were having another cup of tea in another room that you supposed was Furina's study.

"Good morning, Lady Furina!" He politely bowed to you. You bowed your head slightly in return, asking him after:

"And what your name should be?"

"My name is Yves, Lady Furina. I was sent to assist you for today," he said.

"Of course!" You shoved him your schedule, looking expectedly, resting your chin on your hand.

Yves looked back and forth between you and the schedule, but in the end just gave in:

"W-well, you are mostly free for today. You have two trials today, and after that you are expected to attend to the opening of Hotel Debord," he said.

... Well, that's a bummer.

But a question appeared in your head:

"Is Clorinde busy with something today?"

Yves: "Excuse me, Lady Furina, but.." An obvious struggle could easily be seen on his face. "Who's 'Clorinde'?.."

...

"A-haa, w-well, if you don't know, never mind! I'm sure we can work just fine!" You gulped your remaining tea down and got up. You asked Yves where you two would be going right now, he said that the trials were scheduled earlier. So, the two of you headed toward the exit of Palais Mermonia, took the elevator to the station, and took an aquabus to Opera Epiclese. Of course, not without a few quards by your side.

While you were riding towards the Opera, there were many questions inside your head. First of all, when exactly were you? Where was Clorinde? Why didn't people know about the champion duelist? And while you were on this topic, what did "opening of Hotel Debord" mean?

You supposed the Fontaine in your dream wasn't the same Fontaine from the game; it was numerous years prior the game's events. This was the most logical conclusion. It puzzled you, why would you dream about being Furina in the past, instead of present? Well, dreams were weird like that sometimes, and this isn't even the weirdest you had, so you didn't give too much attention to this detail.

The interior of the aquabus was simply exquisite; it was obvious this wasn't just a typical one, but one made specifically for the Hydro archon, inclusive of all the comfort and convenience. Several pasties were placed on the table next to the comfortable couch, although you have already had your fill in the morning.

So instead, you moved around and pulled the curtains away, revealing the sight of Fontaine's landscapes. The clear skies, crystal clear waters and emerald spiky mountains fascinating you. It was truly an enchanting painting, the sight from your window.

You spent most of the ride looking at the various landscapes. You even went out from the cabin to look at everything without any glass limiting your view. But alas, you arrived at the Marcotte station all too quickly for your liking. But on the other hand, wasn't this where Furina was working? So it only made sense that the ride shouldn't take too long. You should try taking a ride from Court of Fontaine to the station near Sumeru, if that's how long you'd like to ride.

The scenery in the little park was really nice to see in person as well, though! You quickly arrived at the Opera Episclese, and oh god, it's was breathtaking. The huge walls of the building, the little Melusines that were walking and running all over the place, busy with their work, and of course the beautiful fountains. The little fountains in front of the building, and the Fountain of Lucine in the center of the square. You've probably never seen anything more beautiful.

You were accompanied by the guards, so the curious people and fans stayed away, letting you peacefully enter the building. But as soon as you were about to get to the second floor, Yves stopped you.

"Lady Furina, why are you going there? I thought this is the way to your personal seat?.." his voice was very careful and pretty quiet, as if he was afraid to accidentally offend you.

"Oh, right," you laughed a little, "it seems I didn't have enough sleep last night!~" You made a little showing off movement, one that you supposed Furina might do in order to bring the conversation from a weird topic, and proceeded to the room Yves asked you about. You asked him to wait for you after the trials were over.

The first trial in itself was!!...

...

Now it wasn't really polite to call it boring, right?..

But you really couldn't help it. Maybe it was your problem that you played Ace Attorney and Danganronpa too much, now every trial you could possibly attend wouldn't bring you any excitement or make you interested. You supposed you had something in common with Furina...

The second trial was after a short intermission, and it was nothing better than the first one. Both cases weren't anything worth of remembering, just typical boring cases of people's problems. Weren't even murder mysteries. Was this the best your brain could generate for you?...

The walk back to the aquabus station was quiet and, you had to admit, quite nice. The trials took most of the day and the sun was nearing the horizon by now; just a few more hours and it was going to be hidden. Although, you were quite curious to see Neuvillette in action! His presence was very powerful and authoritarian, yet very gentle and caring at the same time. He was the most interesting thing you've seen so far. He was definitely very intriguing, and if there's anything you'd attend another trial for, that's Neuvillette for sure! You liked him, but he was never your most favorite, pretty far behind the Hydro Archon and the Knave...

Arlecchino...

It was quite sad that this dream was set before the game's events. Maybe if you could meet with her, you'd actually have a chance?? The thought made you giggle a little silly, and Yves gave you a look even though he tried his best to appear the most polite... You quickly returned back to a calm expression, and soon you arrived back at the Court of Fontaine.

The rest of the evening you couldn't keep yourself focused. Paparazzi surrounded you, as you gave a short pre-prepared speech that you were asked to give, and you of course tried some of the desserts at the Hotel's restaurant. You quickly noticed that they had a cake they promoted as their specialty, and what caught your attention immediately was the fact that.. they only sold 16 slices a day!

The textures blend perfectly together, and the sweet and fruity cream were like nothing you've ever tried back home! This little cake, it was just perfect. Each bite made you want to grin wider as you savoured this little slice of heaven. After you were done with the slice, you asked Yves to pack some additional ones to take back to Palais.

You returned back to your quarters.

Today way... something. Definitely not what you initially expected. You didn't even get to see Charlotte among the paparazzi !! Was Neuvillette really the only playable character, other than yourself as Furina, that you would meet?.. You didn't even get to talk to him, only exchanging a brief greetings with him during the first trial, and then, after the second one, he quickly retired from his judge duties for today, probably burying himself in papers.

You asked a maid to serve you another one of the special cake's slices for today's dinner, and you smiled to yourself: getting in Furina's shoes was easier than you thought it might be! She was really fun to roleplay as, even if you weren't always sure what she would say or do.

You really didn't want to wake up. Going back to the boring real world? After not even meeting with your favorites? It saddened you, but you finished your cake, smiling as you tried to accept your fate. The bed seemed to be made by your servants, the sheets changed and a nightgown prepared.

Well, at least you would depart Teyvat with comfort!~

You hugged as many stuffed animals as was possible, and closed your eyes, your mind drifting off to dreams.

***

A knock on the door woke you up.

You hid your face in the sheets, trying to hide from the disturbance.

"Lady Furina, your breakfast is ready!"

...

Did you hear it correctly?

You got up as quickly as possible, and rushed to.. somewhere, where you spotted a mirror. Silver hair, blue strikes, heterochromia, someone else's face... How was it possible? Was it a dream inside a dream? And how many more cycles of this would you have to endure before you would wake up??

"Come in!" you answered the maid, and she stepped inside your bedroom, with your breakfast on a tray.

...

You thought, this day would be just a dream inside a dream. But when you woke up for the third time in Furina's quarters, you started panicking. What the hell was going on?!

Your brain was playing tricks on you and you didn't like it.

The fourth time made you anxious. Were you in some kind of coma? No, that's definitely not a coma, the dream is too hyperrealistic and portrayed surroundings way too believable for anyone to say it was just a dream. You had physical feelings, needs, and could sense everything; even things that were usually missing in your typical dreams.

When you woke up in Furina's bed for the seventh time, marking a week, you lost your hope.

This was a Sunday. Ironic, because around 2am on Sunday was the time you fell asleep in your home. Well at least, you were free today. Yves really didn't lie that day when he said you would be mostly free... The days following your first one were filled with even more trials, private meetings, and various events... Those five days exhausted you beyond any limit you had back home.

So... This didn't seem like a dream anymore. You really became Furina, the Hydro archon. But if that's the case, where did Furina go? You were scared, scared very much, but there was nothing in your powers, you were able to do nothing. And the worst thing, you were alone. Completely. Nobody would believe you if you said that you got isekai'd into the Hydro archon, into Teyvat, and if you so as tried to tell so, you wouldn't get away from various accusations.

You spend most of the day in "your"... no, in your bed, thinking about what to do next.

Well, first of all, you didn't have to think too much about the prophecy, because you knew that it would definitely be resolved with the traveler's help. Even if you didn't know the full story. This, at least, crosses out one of the things you have to worry about.

Next... You didn't do anything specific to end up here, so you didn't know how to escape. So the best and most healthy thing would be, just accepting your new life. Worrying about getting back would only lead to so much stress that you might not be able to endure it, especially paired with the stress you were bound to get from your new job. It scared you. You didn't know anything about Furina's life. You experienced a tiny bit of it, but just how much more you were about to experience next? This made you want to cry, but you felt too exhausted to do so.

You quickly thought about the things that you needed to do while you are here. First and most importantly, you needed to learn Fontainian language. You'd get nowhere without it. Then, you must find out just how many years ago from the main story were you. And then, you probably should do something about your position as the archon. People weren't treating Furina seriously due to her antics and theatrics, as well as silly laws, so you will have to do something with it. But this was a goal for the long run, and not something you could do right now.

You found a notebook somewhere in Furina's... in your study, and took a book from the library on the first floor of the Palais Mermonia. With those two (and a pen), you headed towards the streets of the Court of Fontaine. You really needed some fresh air.

You remembered lurking on some social media, and seeing how the writing in Fontaine is, actually, a simple english but written in different characters. Using this information, you were about to decipher the alphabet. On the other hand, you could always just take a children's book and learn from it, but you really didn't want to put your image in danger like this. What if someone sees you?? You couldn't allow it. It also made you excited a bit, the idea of trying to understand the thing on your own; and you needed to get something except trials and private meetings in your head.

You took a seat outside a cafe, and ordered some coffee. While drinking it, you got to work. It wasn't as hard as you initially thought it might be, given it *is* english. First, you were looking for one letter words, "I" and "A", and you quickly found the corresponding characters. You didn't know which was which yet, but that was easy to check. You now searched for three letter words, "and", "was", "did", etc... you found a word with a letter you recognized in the middle, with the same two letters in the beginning and the end of the word, so you supposed this were the letters I and D, with the third known to you letter seemingly being A. Then, using this info, you found the character for N, and now you knew at least four letters.

Like so, you continued to decipher the rest of the alphabet, but you grew tired quicker than you'd like. The process wasn't as hard as was it tedious. When you were looking around or blinking, you could still see black and white lines before your eyes... This was probably enough for today. You stretched and took left the cafe, deciding to take a stroll through the streets.

The meka-guards were a little scary at first, but you quickly got used to hearing the metal steps and cogs ticking. The streets were bustling with people, and you couldn't help but feel jealous. They had somewhere to go to, they had people who were waiting for them at home.

You? You had nothing. Nothing and no one. Not anymore.

This realisation was devastating and drowned you all too sudden. First you were simply walking, enjoying the sunset, and now the emptiness was eating you from the inside. The change caught you off guard so badly that you froze in the middle of the street, your face completely empty and looking through the people and things that were around.

Sigh

This isn't how you should be... Feeling like this, it won't get you anywhere. You must be strong.

Maybe someday you would find someone who you would trust enough, but when would that day come? And would it come at all? You didn't know. You didn't know anything.

You returned to Palais Mermonia, had your dinner and retired for today, not a single coherent thought in your head. You weren't sure if you were ready for tomorrow.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #furina #this will kinda count as #arlecchino x furina #arlefuri #female reader #wlw