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peariote · 5 months ago

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like them? ── .✦ patrick zweig x reader

hallo!! this is more a character study than anything. his loser ways intrigue me. not really happy with the ending :[ hope you enjoy anyways ‪♡. 2k words.

You were perfect.

Your glacé demeanor was the thing that drew him to you. Screw what anyone else said, he deserved a minute amount of softness once in a blue moon.

Especially after a particularly humiliating challenger.

So what if he was distracted by you? That doesn't account for his less than stellar performance, surely (he can blame the motel mattress for the crick in his back) but it sure contributed. That toothy grin was lethal, and you didn't even know it.

He was drawn back to your sparkling eyes every time he hit, the sound of the thwack fading into the back of his mind. He knew you wouldn't catch him—you were watching the ball flicker over the net with every hard strike.

It was only inevitable you would catch him.

The ball sails past him, slamming into the rusted, chain-link fence with a loud crash. It tauntingly lodged in one of the openings. As your eyes dart to catch its motion, you instead catch his dark gaze right on yours.

Patrick plucks the ball from its sunken position and pockets it, shoving it into his too-big shorts. He swore they fit a couple months ago.

He shuffles off the court after a half-hearted handshake with his (much) younger opponent, who gives him a movie star grin—like he’d won Wimbledon and not a backwater challenger.

You're waiting for him at the barrier, hands pressing into the metal. It's gotten a bit nippier, recently, in the late November month.

The sight of your trembling shoulders and fixed gaze makes him bold enough to invite you for a bite to eat.

He’s cute, all bumbling motions and wry, nervous smirks. His hip hits the barrier after one particularly eager motion. He thinks he hides his resulting wince well.

(He does not.)

You ended up in a diner. There were two in the town. He’d learned from the woman at the motel. He only heard half of her sentence as he was dead on his feet, but he distinctly remembers being told one was "absolute shit."

When he took a sip of jet black coffee and felt the bitter, smooth burn on his tongue, he knew he chose the right one.

He tries to start conversation. A cough instantly lodges the second he tries to speak, catching on the buildup in his throat.

“-sorry. Yeah, so… why were you here to watch?” You definitely look too cool for this town. Too cool for him, which is a sentence he never thought he’d think. His younger self would be aghast.

You purse your lips familiarly, and suddenly it's not you sitting across from him but her, tawny skin matte in the diner's shitty lighting and messy braid slung over one shoulder. Your words snap him out of his revere.

"Oh, well, I'm just a fan. You've got such a explosive style... I like it."

Well that's something she'd never say.

The unfamiliar kindness to your tone makes him smile crookedly.

He's different that night, around you. Not that you'd know.

His soft laughter rings through the almost-empty diner. You'd both ordered food by now—just waiting it to be delivered from the noisy kitchen. He can't remember exactly what you'd said that made him laugh like that, tinkling in a way he'd never let escape him before, but he finds he can't really remember.

When your food comes, you do this polite little shimmy back, eyes following the plate of pancakes as it's placed down in front of you. Jesus, that's familiar. He misses seeing how his eyes would go big at every meal, eagerly taking in the veritable mountain of food in front of him.

Then, his hot plate of eggs and toast is placed down in front of him and he can't help but dig in. He forgets all about him, if only for a moment, at the melt of warm, cheesy eggs on his tongue. Yep. Definitely the good diner.

One thing he's used to—feeling hungry. For food, for people, for happiness.

It leads to impulses. Bad ones.

He's accepted dates from so many sleazes. Let them push him and treat him wrong for reasons he doesn't want to think about can't understand.

Whatever. Introspection's a bitch.

He prefers to let them feed him on their dime and then have the mediocre sex they expect from him for their kindness. He slips out after they fall asleep and returns to his apartment or motel room (or car, when it's that bad.)

Oddly enough, you don't give him those urges. The results of his mindless swiping don't feel like the little meet-cute he'd fallen into.

The last thing he expects to do is to slip you his number he scrawled on the receipt for the bill you split. Can't imagine why he's kissing your cheek under the awning, protecting you both from the rain before waving you off—giggling, actually laughing at the view of you as you run to your car, hood pulled up over your head.

Not even a thought ran through him about propositioning you.

He returns to his stuffy motel room, peels off his shirt at the muted hum of the shitty AC. Broken again. He'll be gone by morning, anyway.

Slumping back against the mattress, his eyelids press visions of light eyes and curling hair to his mind. They don't feel as oppressive, as terrifying when their intercut with your voice, your smile.

The next time he sees you, it's colder. Far into winter, his breaths puff clouds into the air. The city is windier than the small town you'd met in, the skyscrapers tunneling the frigid air right against his back.

This was a long time coming. You'd think him younger (or busier) with the way he's glued to his phone—awaiting your messages and, later, calls.

He definitely feels younger; less like a man in his early thirties and more like a teenage girl. He hadn't crushed like this since—

That's enough of that.

The long trudge to your apartment was only caused by the less-than-ideal parking your old building had. By the time he made it to your doorstep, ringing the bell with tingling fingers and rubbing his reddening nose, he was thoroughly frozen.

His clothes was less than ideal, too—unused to being in a place that snows during the winter months. He runs from the freezing temperatures, fearing the slowness they bring and the idleness that may trap him. He flees to California and Florida for the winter, creeping around the coast and clinging on to the barest hints of heat that remain there.

Your apartment is his California, now.

The second the door opens, he's hit with a wave of warmth. The warm air seeps over his skin, coming from the rumbling heater and the scattered burning candles and the happily humming oven.

Yeah. He could get used to that. Especially the bright smile on your face at the sight of him, nose red and eyes squinted despondently.

"Pat. Come in. Jeez—you look cold."

Being swept into your apartment felt intimate. His shoulders tensed at the tug of his coat, unwilling to part with it even if you were just trying to be a good hostess—

Yet, as soon as the heavy fabric slipped off his back, he realized how laden it had been with ice and melted snow, keeping the chill pressed to his skin.

The flannel he had on underneath, layered over a long-sleeve, was much warmer. It seemed to absorb from the air and from his own body heat, insulating his trembling arms. His frozen hands rise to rub at his biceps, before slipping up to bathe in the pocket of heat it'd created.

He doesn't even notice being led to the couch, pressed into the cushion by your gentle hands. He settles heavily against one of your throw pillows.

The bustle of you in the kitchen is firmly background noise now, the faint clicking of a mechanical timer buzzing on the counter. Without the cumbersome weight of the cold, the desire for sleep enfolds his mind. His eyelids droop heavy, burdened no more with gelid crystals of ice.

A melting droplet slips down his cheek, followed soon by a salty one. They runoff, fading into the throw pillow that bears his curly head.

He's knocked out before the timer even beeps.

“Hey, hey.” Is softly cooed in his ear, a warm hand shaking his shoulder.

Oh. It’s Art, waking him up for practice—whatever, five more minutes. He attempts to shrug off the touch and flop on his belly, but his resting place feels smaller than his bed was at Mark Rebellato.

No, the fingers are too slim, and this is definitely closer to twin-sized. Tashi, then. Dude, he just got back from tour yesterday. He huffs and grumbles and tries to roll over again. Can’t she let him sleep in—

But he keeps getting shaken, and he blinks open bleary eyes to find no hint of… them. Just you, blinking down at him with a steaming bowl clutched in your other hand.

His sleep-crusted eyes flutter, caught off-guard at the rush of memories and then the brutal battering of your visage on his brain. Right. You're here, with him—or he's here, with you. In your apartment, on your couch. He'd fallen asleep.

"Dinner, Pat. Have you gotten thinner?"

He probably has. He accepts the bowl greedily, digging the offered fork deep into the white rice and chicken, dripping with a sauce he's never had but supremely enjoys.

It's different, home-cooked meals. He'd never had one, a true one, until he'd met him. To have a member of the family cook and pour hours into a dish was something he'd never seen. He usually didn't even glimpse the cooks, and was shooed from the bustling kitchen anytime he so much as tried to peek in.

The presentation wasn't the masterful art he'd grown to know, with perfectly placed leaves and round dollops of puree. But it steamed, wafting scents into his nose. He appreciated every bite.

You'd flipped on the TV while he was devouring the meal. Once he zones back in, he hears it—a droning voice enunciating familiar words.

"This is live coverage of the Australian Open, looks like the Donaldsons are coming in now—"

His head shoots up.

Gaze contacting with the screen, he glimpses cropped blond and a newly-cut bob. His eyes are downcast, following obediently behind her like an acolyte. Occasionally, he sees his gaze dart up, as if she'd acknowledge him and stray from her warpath.

Yeah, he's seen this before. Keep pushing, Sisyphus. She's no Orpheus.

He finds the strength to turn it off. His thin fingers tug the remote from your lap, impacting the little red button harshly. The place of it on your coffee table echoes.

"...can we go to bed?"

He's never been cradled like this before. After you'd fussed, shoved him into a too-big sweatshirt (he doesn't know where you got it) and graciously let him take his jeans off, you tugged him to your chest and buried your nose in his still-damp hair.

His hands are still warm from the bowl when they snake over your skin. Bared thighs slot against yours, pulled close and tangled in the web that is you.

Usually, he'd struggle. Resist the pull and tug of silken, sticky threads—each one only entrapping him further.

This time, he sinks into them. Surrenders, like a venom-laded fly to be wrapped and ensnared. The sounds of your breathing soothe his restless mind.

You're no longer him, with his smile and the youthful glimmer he used to see. Or her, with your funny, but scathing commentary. He doesn't see her in your focused looks, or hear him in your laughs. They meld together, swirled and blended into an amalgamation.

You soothe the roughened edges of the image. There's no cutting feeling in his gut or the curl of a vice around his ribs.

Just the press of your collarbone against his forehead and your breath through his short tresses.

#kiera's fics #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #challengers fic #challengers 2024

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holyprincenerd · 2 years ago

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yes yes rigged this cha cha that but please let’s not ignore this right now:

https://www.aftonbladet.se/podcasts/ab/episode/355975 Swedish “eurovision expert” Tobbe Ek (for those of you who aren’t Swedish, this is the same guy who accused Måneskin of doing coke on live tv back in 2021) and his posse of minions decided that it was time to spread some absolutely hateful rhetoric against the people of Finland by calling them shitty, idiotic, telling them they should be ashamed of not voting for Sweden (??? literally what???) etc etc, while also dragging in other contestants like Lord of the Lost and insulting them as a means of questioning why the Finnish public voted for them but not for Sweden. (You know. Because it totally doesn’t make any sense at all that a country known for having the most metal bands per capita in the world would vote for Lord of the Lost. Not at all.)

As the cherry on top of this xenophobic shit cake, they started to go on about how “There’s no way there were ten contestants who were better than Sweden this year.” (Again. Not only disrespecting the other contestants, but them pretending not to grasp the concept of a country known for preferring heavier music choosing to vote mostly for bands this year... Yeah... Couldn’t be their preferences...)

Again, this man is considered a Eurovision expert here in Sweden, yet this is the type of behaviour he and his coworkers display over a nonissue like the Finnish public not voting for Sweden this year. If there’s something shameful here, it’s this.

To reiterate: These are three grown-ass well past 40-year old people having a genuine meltdown over one (1) singular country not voting for them.

Why are we giving Tobbe Ek (and his irrelevant coworkers) a platform, again?

EDIT:

Hoo boy, there’s more. Because of course there is.

ALRIGHT here’s an article from one of our tabloids using quite suspiciously colonialistic sounding rhetoric about Finland being “the kingdom’s previous eastern half”.

https://www.expressen.se/noje/finska-sveket-mot-sverige-gav-noll-poang-efter-uppmaningen-rosta-taktiskt/

The specific quote in Swedish: “Tv-tittarna i tidigare östra rikshalvan gav nämligen Sverige noll(!) poäng under Eurovisionfinalen på lördagen.”

Translation: “TV viewers in [our] kingdom’s previous eastern half gave namely zero(!) points to Sweden during the Eurovision finale on Saturday.”

Yeah, Johan Bratell (the writer of the article) is technically not wrong about Finland having been a part of Sweden. But why bring this up now? This was so clearly meant as a condescending insult.

The article also talks about a throwaway comment that the Finnish commentator Mikko Silvennoinen made about tactical voting (or more specifically, an anonymous comment he read out loud about tactical voting). From my understanding this was a joke reference to the previous elections which took place recently in Finland and forced a portion of the Finnish public to vote tactically as an attempt to block a far-right party from getting into the parliament. It’s embarrassing how much these people are reaching.

And even if they were voting tactically, so what? Sweden won. Why are we so focused on the public vote of one (1) country, Jesus Christ this is embarrassing.

EDIT 2: WHY THIS MATTERS. A LOT.

For those of you who are not in the know about Swedish politics, these statements are reflecting some far-right political views that have their roots all the way back in the times when Sweden ruled over Finland. In recent memory, our far-right political party Sverigedemokraterna claimed that the Swedish minority group Tornedalians are not Swedish, because they may speak local dialects that blend Finnish into Swedish, or speak the minority language Meänkieli. Coincidentally, Meänkieli just so happens to be a minority language that blends Finnish and Swedish, as it is mostly spoken by people who live by the Torneå river, i.e. the Finnish-Swedish border. Here’s an article about this controversy (however you may not be able to read it unless you’re subscribed to said newspaper): https://www.dn.se/asikt/orimligt-att-tornedalingar-inte-skulle-vara-svenskar/?fbclid=IwAR33K_UVRhXlJhyPd3gY7GDXN_lotUdrtM1AeL-nRzWE26Tmq5BFE0lIUzw

Sverigedemokraterna also believe that the Swedish minority group of Sweden Finns should essentially cut their ties to their Finnish roots and that they should not be able to be citizens of both Finland and Sweden. https://aip.nu/sverigedemokraterna-och-de-dubbla-medborgarskapen/

This sort of rhetoric is ridiculously common here, and in situations like the ones that have occurred in light of the ESC, they almost never get called out. Because it’s common. Because it’s okay to call Finnish people names and to use colonial rhetoric against all Finns, both those who live in Finland and those who live in Sweden. Because this is “friendly banter.” Mind you, as someone who technically belongs to both of the aforementioned minority groups I’m completely fine with the actually friendly banter and piss taking that we usually partake in, because it is just that. Friendly. But this is not it. This is actually harmful. I have never seen so many Swedish people attacking Finns on social media as I’ve seen these past few days. The usual colonialistic and fennophobic insults have started to rear their ugly heads: People have started to insult the Finnish language (a fennophobic sentiment that goes way back to the days when Finland was under Swedish rule and the Swedish tried to get rid of the language), they have started to insult the way Finns look (goes back to fennophobic rhetoric of Finns essentially not being “white enough”), etcetera. For more information on how the Swedish government treated the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians (the fact that they tried to abolish both the Meänkieli language and the Finnish language from Sweden and have even done skull measurements as an attempt to prove that these minority groups are not equal to Swedes), here’s another article: https://www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/norrbotten/regeringen-tillsatter-sanningskommission

For those of you who speak Finnish and are interested in the topic, the book Kansankodin pimeämpi puoli by Tapio Tamminen goes into both issues, with photographic evidence of skull measurement incidents among other things. Meanwhile, the Finnish media is mostly just reporting on the tomfoolery of these “journalists.” Sure, there are a lot of Finns who are acting out as well and spreading hateful rhetoric against Swedes, but the difference here is that one group is punching up, while the other is punching down.

Whether Tobbe Ek, Jenny Ågren, Markus Larsson and Johan Bratell meant to cause this does not matter. They’ve still done it, in the case of the former group, they’ve even dragged other Europeans (and Australians!) into this mess.

They’ve gone ahead and spread fennophobic rhetoric on huge platforms: Sweden’s biggest national tabloids. They should be held accountable for this.

To reiterate: ALL THIS OVER THE FINNISH PUBLIC “NOT VOTING FOR SWEDEN” DURING THE EUROVISION SONG CONTEST OF 2023.

Edit 3: Just in case we need a bit of clarification:

I know this whole post may come across quite negatively. So let me make this clear: There is an issue with the Swedish culture and its normalisation of fennophobia, however, that doesn’t mean every Swede is maliciously fennophobic. It’s literally just so normalised here, that sometimes people don’t even notice when they’re partaking in it, and because of said normalisation, for many these fennophobic and colonialist insults have become a sort of knee jerk reaction to when there’s “actual beef” with Finland. (Which, obviously, is a fucking problem, because look who has to bear the brunt of that.)

Moreover, many Swedes aren’t even familiar with their shared history with Finland, and the discrimination Finland was put through during the Swedish rule (not to mention the discrimination the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians have had to face and still face). That part of our shared history simply isn’t taught in schools here, so a regular person would have to know to go out and look for the information. Heck, the only reason I’m aware of this is because at the end of the day, despite having been born and raised in Sweden, I am ethnically Finnish, and grew up by the border with very strong ties to the Finnish culture because of it. But less about me, and more about this issue. Most Swedes (and Swedish journalists who have any sort of sense in them and who work for respectable publications) have expressed their dissatisfaction with this years results as well. There’s a reason Cha Cha Cha is charting so well on Swedish Spotify. There’s a reason for why the Swedish jury and the public gave Finland 12 points.

So, Tl;dr:

1. Swedish tabloids are trash.

2. We have an undeniable problem with how normalised fennophobia is here, and it’s absolutely bizarre that this is how it’s getting exposed.

3. Most regular Swedes aren’t happy with this either, and are in fact not Finland’s and the Finnish people’s greatest haters in the world.

4. Tobbe Ek should get fired. At the bare minimun, he and his coworkers should probably issue some sort of apology for spreading this, seeing how it is actually hurting a lot of people.

Anyway, please don’t hate on the Swedes because of this lol, think about what Jere from Vantaa would think about that. 💚

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softguarnere · 1 year ago

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Memories Feel Like Weapons

Edmund Pevensie x gn!reader

Summary: “People can be different. They can change. You’ve changed.” Gently, you use your pointer finger to hook his chin and turn his face towards you, making him look you in the eye. “You’re a good king, Edmund, and an even better man. A good brother. A good boyfriend. Everyone has forgiven you for what you did as a child.” A/N: What's up, y'all?! It's been freezing these past few days and I hate it! 🥴 So this is for all you other lovelies who are currently being plagued by SAD 🫶🏽 Also, in case it's not clear in the fic, for the purposes of the story, we're just gonna assume that reader's parents also sent them off to the country during the war to stay with the professor, that they met the Pevensie's there, and went to Narnia with them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Warnings: Edmund has SAD but it's Narnia so it's never actually called that, the author is (once again) overusing commas

As interesting and as magical a place as Narnia is, you’re willing to admit that diplomatic negotiations are something that usually bore you to tears.

You try to take an interest, you really do, for Edmund’s sake. Political wheeling and dealing is his bread and butter. You’re not particularly adept at it yourself. Edmund has tried to explain the finer points to you many times, but it��s not something that you can wrap your head around. But maybe that’s just because you get too distracted thinking about how good looking your tutor is. Sometimes you raise a question or a particular point that you know he’ll jump to answer just to see how passionately he talks about his favorite subject. As far as you know, he hasn’t caught on yet.

Today proves to be different, though.

A chill in the air greets you when you awake. A crackling sound from the corner tells you that a servant has crept in at some point and started a fire in the hearth to stave off the cold. Blinking to adjust your eyes to the light, you’re greeted by the type of cold, white sunlight that announces a wintery morning and the season’s signature magical touch that often appears overnight – snow.

You leap out of bed, gasping when your feet kiss the cold floor. Hurrying to put on slippers, you wrap yourself in a fluffy robe and hurry to the door.

Edmund hates the winter. He hates the snow even more. No one can blame him for that. But you’re the only person he’s confessed this to.

Sure, his siblings might suspect as much. Those first few years in Narnia, no one dared suggest that they play in the snow whenever it arrived, for fear of what it might imply, and for fear of inadvertently upsetting the youngest Pevensie brother. After a few more years, he would find excuses to be tucked away in his library on snowy days, and no one would breathe a word of the fun they had without him while he was around. A delicate subject and a fine dance around it, to say the least.

It was only last winter that Edmund confided in you, and only because you had recently become a couple. He said the winter was hard enough on its own, but the snow brought back too many bad memories, ushered in nightmares so vivid that he sometimes woke up questioning what was real and what wasn’t.

This is going to be a rough day for him, to say the least. Which puts a damper on the mood, since ambassadors from a nearby kingdom are arriving to negotiate trade – something he was so looking forward to.

“Edmund?” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet library, and the echo makes you flinch slightly at the loudness of your own voice, at the desperate quality it holds.

Stepping further inside the room, you listen, and tune into the crackling of the fireplace along the far wall. You follow it until you can see the chairs in front of it, and in one of them, Edmund, slumped over a large tome, asleep.

He’ll have a crick in his neck from sleeping that way, you think. If you hadn’t known why he was here, finding him in his favorite place like this would be sweet. It still tugs on your heartstrings, yes, but in a different, heavier way.

“Edmund?” You gently shake his shoulder before stepping back.

The Just King startles awake, his book slipping out of his lap. His eyes are wide and wild as they flick across the room, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. Finally, they land on you and soften. “(Y/N)?”

“Good morning, sleepy head,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, casual. “If you say that your neck doesn't hurt after sleeping like that, then you’re a liar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The painful popping noises that echo from his spine say otherwise, but you let it go. Slowly, he rises, stretches, and then takes a step closer to you and plants a kiss on your forehead. He sighs through his nose. “Today is the day.”

You slip your hand into his, intwine your fingers. “How are you feeling?”

Edmund shrugs. His relationship with his siblings has improved leaps and bounds in all the years that they’ve spent in Narnia, but sometimes he still hesitates to show certain emotions around them, to express himself the way he should. Sometimes it’s easier when it’s just the two of you in a space like this where he’s comfortable.

“I’ll manage.”

“If you’re not feeling up to it – “

He squeezes your hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a day that I have to get through.”

“Spring will come again,” you assure him, using the mantra that you often whispered to comfort him through last year’s winter season.

“And we will greet it with open arms and grateful hearts,” he finishes. He attempts a smile, but it looks more strained than usual. “Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be fine.”

. . .

It is almost immediately not fine.

The ambassadors arrive in all their splendor. Fine fabrics and shimmering jewels assure that no one can take their eyes off them as they enter the hall and approach the five thrones. They bow to Peter in the center, to Susan and Lucy on his left, then to you and Edmund on his right. Servants carry golden trunks behind them. They have come to these diplomatic negotiations bearing gifts in the most literal sense.

Though you will all retire to a separate chamber for the actual negotiations, the gift giving is a public affair for the whole court to witness. And because it’s so formal, it’s rather slow.

Strong weapons forged of foreign metals are gifted, followed by clothes of their country’s latest fashions, and small samplings of food for each of you, a different dish for you each to try based on what the ambassadors have heard about you.

Thank goodness you’re a good actress, because the ambassadors seem to think that you really do seem excited to try the food in the bejeweled silver container that they gift to you. In reality, you’re trying your hardest not to grimace at the unfamiliar looking treats inside of it, and trying hard not to become preoccupied wondering if the taste will be as . . . unique as the smell that emits from them.

“And finally, for King Edmund,” one of the ambassadors says with a bow before presenting a silver container to Edmund with a flourish. “I have heard a rumor that you are quite fond of these.”

Thankful for a distraction from the gift in your own hands, you turn your attention to Edmund. Sitting beside him, you are in full view of the show that his siblings are not. You can see the rosy color, the powdered sugar. The Just King’s smile immediately falters. Strong hands clamp the container shut before anyone else has the chance to see what’s inside – Turkish Delight.

For a moment there is nothing but silence, the labored sound of Edmund drawing a breath. It goes on just long enough that his siblings glance at him. Only then does Edmund seem capable of forcing himself to smile, to nod, to thank the ambassador for such a thoughtful gift. If his siblings sense that something might be wrong, they don’t even know the half of it.

Because what has just happened, really? Is this a slight on behalf of the other country’s rulers? Or do they genuinely have no clue the implications of their actions?

As the exchanging of the gifts comes to a close, Edmund coughs into his fist, clears his throat. Does it again. He thumps the flat of his palm against his chest.

Peter turns to him. “Are you alright?”

“I think I just require a bit of fresh air, if you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Edmund replies. He says it far too quickly, and he uses the excuse to dismiss himself from the hall. The silver container that holds the Turkish Delight has been abandoned, left behind on his throne.

It takes everything in you not to race after him, to follow him, to make sure that he’s okay. Instead, you’re stuck helplessly glancing between the doorway that he’s disappeared through and the ambassadors who won’t seem to shut up.

Finally, the niceties end. The other king and queens of Narnia begin to migrate into a separate chamber with the ambassadors to begin the negotiations.

Quickly, quietly, you catch Lucy by the sleeve of her dress and lean in close to her ear. “I’ve got to go find Edmund,” you whisper. “I’m worried about him.”

Lucy’s eyes go wide, but she holds her composure under the watchful eyes of the court and the visiting representatives. “I’ll cover for you,” she whispers back.

As one of the five Narnian monarchs, you don’t technically need anyone’s permission to leave – except maybe Peter’s, since he’s the High King. Still, you’re the only one who’s not a Pevensie sibling, which can sometimes be a little isolating. Knowing that Lucy has your back boosts your confidence as you slip away, heading for the nearest place that you think Edmund might have disappeared to.

A quick search reveals that he’s not in the library. Or the armory, or any of his usual haunts. As a last resort, you duck into his bedroom, and it’s there that you find him, standing before the hearth, staring into the flames. His hand holds the place on his side where the White Witch stabbed him on the battlefield, though the gesture seems absentminded.

“Ed?” You make your voice soft so as not to startle him.

He looks up, eyes wide, surprised anyway – and hurt.

You don’t waste time asking if he’s okay. Instead, you cross the room to meet him in front of the fire. “Oh, Edmund.”

He doesn’t bother lying and saying that he’s fine. That’s how you know it’s bad. When Edmund Pevensie goes quiet, retreats within himself, it means that he’s truly wounded. This is something deep inside of him that aches, that rots.

Not knowing what to do, you take a seat on the rug in front of the hearth. You’re careful not to touch him, trying to offer him the space if he needs it. But he follows your lead and takes a seat, too, which seems like a good sign.

For a while, neither of you speaks. You just sit near each other, staring into the fire. Edmund looks very numb when he finally says, “I didn’t mean to leave like that. I just . . . panicked.”

“No one blames you.”

“Seeing that stupid Turkish Delight – “ He shudders. “I can’t figure out if it was a poor choice given with good intentions, or if it was a slight on my honor, a reminder of what I did.” He frowns. “I suppose to some people I’ll never be Edmund the Just – I’ll only ever be just Edmund, The Traitor.”

“No,” you protest. Space be damned; you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it, like that gesture can also grab his attention, infuse the meaning of what you’re about to say to him so that he cannot ignore it. “Edmund, you’ve changed. You’re not a traitor.”

“Anymore.”

“People forget that I was there, too,” you remind him. “I tried to follow you to Jadis’ castle.”

“That was different. You were trying to stop me from betraying my family.” His brow furrows at the memory. “So I shoved you into a snowbank and ran off without you. And then you went back to Beaver’s the help the others. (Y/N) the Loyal,” he employs the epithet that Aslan gave you, but you can’t be sure why. Because of what you did then? Because you’re here with him now?

“People can be different. They can change. You’ve changed.” Gently, you use your pointer finger to hook his chin and turn his face towards you, making him look you in the eye. “You’re a good king, Edmund, and an even better man. A good brother. A good boyfriend. Everyone has forgiven you for what you did as a child.”

Edmund shakes his head. “But they haven’t forgotten. And I can’t, either, if I’m being honest.” He doesn’t meet your eye when he confesses, “It haunts me, the memories. Every winter.”

“No. But you can do something else.” You pause to make sure that you have his full attention when you make your suggestion. “You can forgive yourself.”

Edmund blinks. As smart as he is, it seems like the thought has never occurred to him before now.

“It doesn’t have to be now,” you assure him. “It’s not an instantaneous thing. Just . . . something to work on. A project. An ongoing one.”

Silence falls between you again as he turns back to the fire. It takes a few moments before he nods, the light shining off his dark hair and his crown.

“I’ll work on it,” he says, resolved. He turns back to you, and when he speaks again, his voice is so unsure, so timid, that you have the sudden urge to hold onto him with one arm and use your other to draw your sword and fend off anything or anyone in the world who might come near and cause him harm. “Can you help me do it?”

You nod. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he clears his throat, shakes his head. “I’m going to need more than my own forgiveness for being late to these negotiations.” He makes no move to get up. His gaze wanders across the room, as if seeing it for the first time, before landing on the window and studying the portal to the frozen, white world beyond it.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it.” Then, trying to lighten the mood, you bump your shoulder against his. “I’m sure Susan and Lucy ganging up on the ambassadors will give them a run for their money.”

Edmund chuckles, settles back on the rug. “Good, because I honestly don’t think I can look into the eye of a person who tried to give me Turkish Delight without hitting him over the head with my sword.”

Even though you’re in a relationship, it’s maybe the most vulnerable that Edmund has ever been with you. He places his head in your lap and stares into the hearth as you card your hands through his dark locks.

“Spring is coming soon,” he mutters, his voice heavy with the sleep that’s trying to catch up with him. “Maybe then I can start over . . . Would be nice to not have to worry about freaking out over a bad gift and embarrassing myself in front of the whole court.”

“Spring will come again,” you remind him, voice soft in case he’s already dropped off to sleep. “And we will greet it with open arms and grateful hearts.” Then, for good measure, you add a new line to aid you through your latest challenge. “And it will allow us to start over.”

#Edmund can have SAD - as a treat #edmund pevensie #narnia imagine #narnia fanfiction #narnia x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #my writing

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spacedace · 2 years ago

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Oh hey here’s the lil prolog thing I wrote for my DP x DC Leverage AU. I’m gonna actually write more of one day I swear but for now have this opening bit and feel free to use it as a prompt if you want :D

The station went utterly quiet as they brought her in.

Room after room going as silent as the grave when the young woman in handcuffs stepped through the door. Chatter stopped. Bodies stilled. Heads turned. Eyes widened. It almost felt like everyone was too afraid to even breath as she walked by. Cops and crooks alike watching with fear and awe in equal measures as Jim Gordon led her past them to the interrogation room.

She didn’t give the gaping crowd any mind. Head tilted up at an angle, shoulders back, steps sure. The solid heals of her boots clicked upon the scuffed linoleum, echoing loud in the stifling quiet. Like a royal herald announcing her presence. She held herself like a queen, which was fitting Jim supposed. Until tonight, the only name anyone had to call her by was Queen.

The blood, unnervingly, only made her seem more regal.

Batman was already in the interrogation room when they arrived. Jim didn’t even have it in him to sigh at the broody bat looming in the corner. He knew he’d be there. There was no way he would miss the interrogation of someone they’d been chasing for so long. Especially not now considering…well.

Considering.

Jim largely ignored the vigilante in the corner as he moved through the familiar process of getting the young woman handcuffed in place to the table, starting the recording and rattling off the relevant details: date, time, the - many - charges the young woman had been arrested for. If he faltered over the victim’s name of the young woman’s most recent crime no one commented on it. In the corner, Batman watched and lurked. Nearly lost in the shadowy corner of the room while still being impossible to ignore.

They’d done this before. Good cop, bad vigilante. It was usually effective in getting the truth out of stubborn criminals.

Jim rather doubted it would work in this case.

“Please state your name for the record.” He said, only to be met with the same cool silence Queen had given everyone since her arrest. She shifted in her seat, not a nervous fidget but an easy, languid movement. Even the uncomfortable metal chair seemed like a throne when she was involved. Jim bit back a sigh. “We have your information. I’m asking as a courtesy.”

Queen tilted her head faintly, looking at him with something almost like amusement, one brow twitching slightly upward. “You’ll have to forgive my disbelief, Commissioner Gordon.” She said, polite as ever. “But I’m rather sure that you won’t find me in any system you run my fingerprints or face through.”

She was right about that. They’d tried a hundred times over the past few years she and her team had been operating in Gotham. Her face never appeared in any pictures or recordings - not even in her mugshot during processing, all that was visible was her red hair and a mess of corrupted visual data where her face should be. The most her fingerprints had ever led to where the other crimes they already knew she’d taken part in. Batman had done everything to try and circumvent whatever meta ability kept her from being recorded on film, had done even more to try and find her and her people in every system he and the Justice League had access to. Nothing. Jim had grumbled a few times about how Queen and her crew might as well be ghosts for all the proof that they existed officially.

Turned out, ghosts was exactly right.

“The Ghost Investigation Ward reached out to us two hours ago.” He said, leaning back in his own seat, watching her carefully. “I’ll repeat, Ms. Fenton, my asking is a courtesy.”

For the first time in the years he’d known her, Queen - real name Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton - looked scared. Beyond scared, even. Completely, and utterly terrified.

Her body went rigid, eyes growing wide, breath picking up as she sat up sharply. Any semblance of that calm, collected presence she always held even when she was at her most cornered and vulnerable vanished in an instant. He’d seen her breath in a cloud of Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin and laugh. Watched as Bane wrapped large hands around her throat and tilt her chin up to stare down at her attacker imperiously. A mobster pressed the barrel of a gun to her head and she’d smiled, coy and confidant and untouchable. Queen always, always was calm. Aggravatingly so, even. Utterly unshakable as she waltzed into every wild and insane situation carrying the undeniable air of one who was complete control of everything happening.

She hadn’t even looked scared when the Joker had held her hostage.

And now? Now all it had taken was those three words. Ghost Investigation Ward. A nonsense name for a government agency with a ridiculous purpose. And yet there the unshakable Queen sat, looking terrified out of her mind at the mere mention of them.

Not for the first time since he received that call, Jim Gordon felt uneasy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc writing prompt #jazz fenton #jim gordon #bruce wayne #leverage au #Jazz is the mastermind in this one #and has been having a great time up til this moment #everyone on the team has code names #Danny is Spaceman because of course it is lol #Sam is Nightshade #Tucker is Pharaoh #Ellie is Nomad #they're not actually shown here but I just wanted to share the codenames I came up for them lol

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hrhmimieucliffe · 8 months ago

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⚠️⚠️Another Mimi Rant Incoming (ik, not again) ⚠️⚠️

Love and Deepspace.

I love the game. I've met so many kind and wonderful people within this fandom. But no fandom is without its problems.

If you know me, you know what my page is all about and how I advocate for the inclusion of more Black women in different fandom spaces and consumable media. We are often either forgotten about, used as comedic relief, stereotypes, or as an antagonist who is loud, bitter, has an attitude, etc.

Cool, fine, whatever, over it.

But one thing I will address is the fact that some people in the LADS fandom seem to have forgotten one major thing about the game. Pertaining to the MC.

SHE IS FULLY CUSTOMIZABLE AND DOES NOT HAVE A CANON APPEARANCE.

Yes, I'm aware the devs use a 'base' look for her on some of the cards and in the previews of new battle mechanics/ five-star kindled scenes. But they're not how she canonically looks. She looks that way because Infold is an eastern based company with certain beauty standards, cool, not asking you to suddenly change her. I'm cool with that.

But people in the FANDOM seem to be forgetting that you can customize her yourself. Into an OC or a self insert, it doesn't matter.

So if you know this, why is it that people with a tan or dark MC receive hate and harassment for making fanart of their self-insert MCs who look like the real them with the MLs?

Why is it that as non pale/fair skinned women, we are expected to always sit back and relate to a pale MC who has a personality that usually doesn't match some of us, either? If we can bear it for our entire lives, why is it a problem when we get a *small crumb* of inclusiveness in making the MC customizable to shape her how we want, it's not a problem until someone actually makes fanart of their MC with an ML and that MC is not the same pale/fair-skinned one?

How is that fair? It's like some people deliberately ignore it or are part of the problem. Especially those who make excuses like

"Oh, but they're not a western based company." I know that. Which is why I'm not aiming this rant at Infold themselves.

"Oh, don't bring politics into the game". First of all, how is the existence of dark or tan people politics? It's not "politics" when it involves someone who is part of the usual beauty standard, is it? Second of all, Infold themselves practically brought those said "politics" in by having tan/dark skinned options into the game in the first place.

Do you all see what I'm getting at, here?

This all came about because I'm part of (both) LADS subs on Reddit, and someone recently made a post about how they were attacked on Tiktok by LADS "fans" for her MC being dark in some *FANART* she made of her MC (based on herself) with her favourite ML.

Why can't we just have peace as women who don't conform to the outdated beauty standards? Why does it matter so much if MC is customizable?

What, do people think that as dark or Black women, we're not allowed to have certain interests? We're not allowed to like certain characters, games, movies, shows, etc? Why?

Wake UP and start calling it out when you see it!! You can't claim not to be a part of the "bad part" when you sit back and let it happen which makes those people get comfortable doing it.

Rant over. Have a nice day girls.

#love and deep space #love & deepspace #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #lnds #lnd #lads #love and deepspace rant #STOP #Another Mimi Rant #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace fanart #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne

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aeongstarss · 1 year ago

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Just friends !

warnings: drinking

genre/type: fluff, somun x fem!reader, !counter Y/N,

wc: 1.2k

synopsis: Hana invited DoHwi to meet everyone. Once everyone starts drinking, this leads to a confession that everyone has been anticipating.

title track: Can I go back - MC MONG ft Kim Sejeong

a/n: hi everyoneeee :3 I hope you're all doing good and had a great holiday season! I haven't written in a while, but Somun has been intruding my brain recently, so I wanted to write this request I had! thank you @acupnoodle for the request! I hope you enjoy it <3

You and the counters sit at the kitchen table awaiting Hana to bring DoHwi home for you all to meet. He knows nothing about you all being counters, including Hana.

You and Somun help Ms.Chu set the table while Motak keeps teasing Hana about her long lost lover. “He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just an old friend from school!” she says in defense. “If he was just a ‘friend’, why are you bringing him home to meet your family?” he questions. Hana stays silent and rolls her eyes, punching Motak in the arm. “Stop teasing me and go help them set the table.” she says while walking to her room.

Motak rubs his bicep, staring at Hana in disbelief. “What has gotten into her…” he whines. “Maybe if you didn’t tease her for 3 hours straight she would be acting differently.” you speak up. “Hey, I was just asking questions!” he says. “Yeah, annoying and personal questions.” Somun says. Motak sighs out, “Wow.. is everyone anti-Motak today?” he cries out. You all laugh as you set the final dishes on the table.

–

“Guys, this is DoHwi. We went to the same school a few years ago.” she says as if you all don’t know every detail about him already. “and this is Ms.Chu, Somun, Motak and Y/N.”

DoHwi bows and everyone says their greetings. He joins you all at the table, sitting next to Hana. Before the conversation can start again, you are already whipping out 3 bottles of Soju. You offer Dohwi some, but he declines. “Thank you, but I don’t drink.” he says politely. Somun and Ms.Chu pressure him into “just a sip”, and that one sip eventually turns into 15 sips.

You all are at the table drunkenly laughing and getting to know DoHwi. You start feeling a slight headache coming on so you naturally lay your head on Somuns shoulder. Somun pays no attention to this as this is the norm, but everytime this happens, a light shade of pink creeps onto his cheeks.

The whole night the attention has been on DoHwi and Hana, so he decides to shift the topic of conversation onto you and Somun.

“So how long have you been with Somun, Y/N?” he asks. You pick your head up from Somuns shoulder with wide eyes. “Together? With him? Oh my god no.” you say through a stutter. Somun lets out a breathy laugh in agreement, “Yeah, no way I’d ever date her.”

The table falls silent after the mini panic. Somun clears his throat, breaking the loud and thick silence. “Yeah guys! You two are so cute together! Are you sure there’s nothing going on?” Motak says while leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms.

An angry pout grows onto your face. Through slurred words you mutter, “I am not dating Somun! We. Are. Just. Friends!” After raising your voice, the headache comes back faster than ever, and you faint onto Somuns lap.

Somun stares at you while you whine, “Ugh.. Somunie, my head hurts so bad. I think too much I drank.” you say rubbing your head. Somun awkwardly laughs and looks back at the table staring at him with half smiles. “I think you meant to say you drank too much.” he laughs. His face grows into a bright red as he tries to pull you off of him. You whine out as you slowly move your head off his lap.

DoHwi tilts his head with a smile. “Just friends?”

“Yessss.” you say, exaggerating your words. You shouldn’t have taken that last shot. Now you are entirely too drunk and can barely think straight. Thankfully, Somun didn’t drink as much as you.

“We are just close friends. There’s nothing going on between us.” he says as a final statement as a way to change the topic; but knowing how much the counters love to tease, that’s not happening.

You say under your breath, “Pfft..nothing going on.” you mock. Somuns eyes widen. “Okay! I think it’s Y/N’s bedtime!” he says avoiding the immense embarrassment. Somun goes to grab you shoulder but you shove him off. “I’m fine here.” you say. Somun sighs in slight frustration but lets you have your way, as he always does.

45 minutes have passed and the conversation has finally made its way onto a different topic.

“So… Are you and Hana dating?” Somun asks DoHwi. He laughs, “No, we are just friends.” Ms.Chu and Motak sigh, “Why can’t young people just admit they like each other.” Motak speaks up.

Hana and DoHwi turn red, as well as you and Somun. Ms.Chu and Motak laugh, successfully embarrassing you all.

You stand up, barely keeping your balance. “Fine! If no one will, I will.” you say. Everyone looks at you in confusion as you turn your attention to Somun, grabbing his face with both hands. “Somunie.. I like you.” you mutter out. Time freezes as you just confessed your feelings to Somun. The table falls silent as everyone is staring at you and Somun. You throw your arms up, “There, are you guys happy now?” you pout, sitting back down.

Motak stands up and starts clapping. “I knew it! There was definitely something going on!” Somun gives Motak the death stare, but everyone is too drunk to notice. “So, how long has this been going on?” Ms.Chu asks.

Somun sighs out in defeat, knowing there’s no way he can get himself out of this situation. “Alright look, I didn’t know she liked me! Like we said earlier, there’s nothing going on!”

“Do you like her back at least?” DoHwi asks. You whine and wrap your arm around Somuns bicep, “Yeah Somun, do you like me too?” you ask, teasing him, secretly wanting to know if your feelings are going to be reciprocated. Somun sighs and sits in silence for a while, until he speaks up. “Yes Y/N. I like you too.” he says, patting your head.

The table cheers at the sudden confessions. Hana raises her glass in a toast. “To our new couple!” she says as the others clink their glasses.

–

You wake up at 3am in Somuns bed. Looking around in a slight daze, you find him asleep on the floor with nothing but a thin blanket and a stuffed animal. You step carefully out of bed, sitting on the floor next to him. You play with his hair as he sleeps. “You know Somun, I meant what I said earlier.” you pause “I really do like you. Like really really like you.” you say through a smile. You play with his hair for a little longer before getting up to go back to bed. A hand grabs your arm and pulls you back. “I like you too.” he says through a raspy voice. You smile and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb along the back side of his hand.

You stand up and grab a thicker blanket off the bed, laying it atop him. You lean over and place a small kiss upon his forehead. “I’m glad you feel the same. I’ve liked you ever since I joined the team.”

Somun lets out a tired moan in response. You laugh, knowing he is way too tired for conversation right now.

You place another kiss, this time upon his lips. Somuns face turns red, despite him practically being asleep. You smile.

“Goodnight Somun.”

#kdrama #uncanny counter #so mun #fanfic #fanfiction #jo byeong gyu #fluff #somun x reader #so mun x reader #uncanny counter fanfiction #uncanny counter x reader #uncanny counter fic #somun uncanny counter #raevior #korean drama #the uncanny counter

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buckysgrace · 10 months ago

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One

Illicit Affairs Masterlist

Steve Harrington x Female!OC (Daphne Williams)

Daphne meets a handsome stranger at a bar on her birthday.

CW: Oral sex (fem receiving), protected sex, alcohol use, drunk assholes

Daphne

The music was loud, the lights dim as Daphne pushed her way back up towards the bar. She thought it was quite busy, even for a Friday night. She kept getting stopped by nice girls who were far too drunk and by guys who thought that she might be easy enough to take back home. Not that she could blame them. She was dressed the part.

The dress was a baby blue that ended high against her thighs. There were cups sewn into the top of it, giving her smaller boobs a much needed lift. The only other thing she had on was a pair of sheer, sparkly sleeves over her arms. They did nothing to protect her from the harsh Chicago winter winds but Gillian had ever so kindly reminded her that a hoe doesn’t get cold.

Daisy and GIllian had forced her into a birthday sash, as well as a little tiara that kept falling off of her blonde hair that she couldn’t keep up with. She was going to dye it back to red, match her normal color and never have to deal with the tangles again.

She’d lost her crowd of friends about ten minutes ago, desperately needing another Sex on the Beach before someone tried to hook her up with another guy she wasn’t interested in. Which she didn’t think would be a big loss. Sophia seemed intent on flirting with them before she even had a chance anyways.

“Can I get-, excuse me. Could I get a Sex on the Beach?” She spoke loud enough for the bartender to hear her, but part of her thought it had to do with the few shots tingling through her body as well. The bartender nodded, barely acknowledging her before he started on her drink.

“It’s your birthday?” She was startled by the man on her left, taken back by how loud and close he was suddenly. She met his eyes before she took a hesitant step back, trying to create some distance between them.

“Yeah,” She smiled kindly, the same way she had to everyone else, “It is, it is.” She held her hands out playfully to show off the banner, expecting the conversation to end there. Despite what her friends thought, she really didn’t want to hook up with anyone tonight. She was not having that much fun.

“I guess I can be one of your presents then,” He teased, “The name is Todd.” She kept her features steady, knowing that she couldn’t openly recoil in front of him. His pick up line might be the worst one she’d heard tonight.

“Oh,” She nodded along, “Nice to meet you.” She spoke politely as she took her drink, glancing around to see if Daisy’s boyfriend was near. Baron didn’t look like much of a fighter, and well he really wasn’t at all, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t put on a good show.

“Do you want to dance?” Todd’s voice registered through her ears, but she was hoping she could play it off by accepting and thanking her drink from the bartender. She held the cold cup in her hand, hoping by the time she turned around that he would be gone. She was not that lucky.

“I uh-,” She started slowly, distracted by the stranger to her right. He was handsome, with large dark eyes and floppy brown hair. He looked nice, a lot nicer than Todd as his lips curled up and he sent her a soft wave, “No thank you. I was about to get back to my friends and-,” She began the whole spiel before she was cut off.

“Your loss,” Todd answered quickly as his nose curled up, his eyes lighting up in anger, “You’re an ugly bitch anyways.” He spat out, pieces of spit hitting against her collarbone. She gasped in disgust, completely taken aback by the change in his attitude.

“Jesus, dude. Have you looked in the mirror recently?” The guy next to her intervened, leaning in closer to the bar, “You should apologize.” Daphne nodded her head along urgently, feeling like that was completely fair. She knew she could be a bitch, but she wasn’t being one at the moment. Although now she wished she had.

Todd narrowed his eyes, anger flashing through his features as he roughly took her cup from her hands. Her eyes widened but she wasn’t able to react fast enough as he tossed it in her direction, missing her completely and drenching the handsome stranger instead.

“Oh my God,” She gasped as she turned, watching as the brown eyed man laughed bitterly and shook the liquid from his hand, “I’m so sorry.” She apologized quickly, furrowing her eyebrows together in disbelief.

“Wasn’t your fault,” He responded as he met her eyes, making her wince before she reached around the counter to grab a handful of napkins. She handed some to him, letting him wipe his face away as she began to dab his shirt down, “It’s really no big deal. This thing was getting old anyways.”

“I feel terrible,” She winced, wishing she had something to offer him, “I don’t suppose you came with another shirt?” She asked him, looking at his chest hair that was beginning to show through his wet shirt.

“I did not,” He chuckled as he watched her, making her movements briefly stall. From being this close she could see the many moles that decorated his face, how styled his eyebrows were, “It’s actually a rare material.”

“Oh boy,” She breathed out as she looked up at him, knowing that she at least had to do his dry cleaning, “What is it made of?” She asked in worry, fearing that she’d have to give her parents a call to help cover it. No. She reminded herself that she was trying to be independent, that she couldn’t keep running back to her parents every time things went bad.

“Boyfriend material,” He told her, pressing his lips together before he broke out into a laugh. She giggled in response, her nerves sliding away as she shook her head, “That wasn’t too corny, was it?” He asked as he tilted his head, peering down at her as she felt a giddy feeling growing inside of her chest.

“Very corny,” She told him seriously, but still held a smile up to her lips, “But I like it. It was sweet. I’m Daphne.” She introduced herself as she held her hand out, sure that she had too much to drink as a spark raced up her hand from where he touched her.

“Steve,” He responded as he firmly shook her hand, making her laugh once again. He was handsome and funny. Finding someone to hook up with suddenly didn’t seem that bad of an idea, “Are you here alone?” He asked in a way that was different from any other guy that asked you. Like he was genuinely curious, concerned even.

“No,” She shook her head, “I’m here with my best friends. They’re somewhere! What about you?” She pointed off towards the distance, squinting her eyes as she tried to recall where she’d left them.

“Yeah, I’m just over there with some friends,” He explained as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “A very late birthday gathering.” He added a moment later, making her eyes widen in surprise.

“Really?” She asked as a large smile pulled onto her lips, “It’s my birthday today!” She proclaimed as she gestured towards the sash on her chest, then at the little tiara on her head. As if he had somehow missed it.

“Mine was at the beginning of the month,” He nodded along with a smile, “The big thirty. Happy Birthday to you. I like your little tiara.” He smiled as he tapped his fingers against the top of it gently. She leaned in a little closer, getting a whiff of his cologne. It wasn’t strong or unbearable, but rather soft and smooth.

“Twenty three,” She told him, heart beating roughly in her chest as he drifted his fingers down her hair, “Do you want to get a shot? If you’re alright in that shirt.” She couldn’t stop herself as she dabbed a napkin over his shirt again, trying to keep the urge to touch him to herself. She was struggling.

“Doesn’t hurt me any,” He added as he leaned over, ordering them each a shot of Tequila. She wrinkled her nose up, thinking about how badly it would burn, “You don’t like it?” He asked as he faced her again, speaking a little louder as the music shifted into an even louder song.

“Tequila is fine,” She told him as she shook her head, wanting to impress him, “Very strong.” She told him, sticking her tongue out once she downed the little shot glass. He chuckled, his movements a lot slower and more mature. She was in awe of the way he didn’t seem bothered.

“Do you drink much?” He asked her, looking amused as he wiped the liquid from the corners of his lips. She couldn’t stop looking at his eyes, trying to decide if he had some green mixed in with the brown. She decided she’d eventually have to get a closer look.

“I like fruity drinks,” She grinned as she brought her eyes back to his damp shirt, “Sorry, but at least you’ll smell good.” She gave him a cheesy smile, listening to the soft chuckle that left his lips. It was a really nice sound.

“You shouldn’t apologize for that asshole,” He replied as he shook his head, “You’re very pretty. And I don’t think you’re a bitch.” His smile was pleasant and his teeth shiny and straight. She felt a giddy feeling forming in her stomach, telling her that she had definitely had one too many drinks.

“I can be,” She spit out, giggling as she covered her mouth, “Sometimes. But thank you. You really think I’m pretty?” She didn’t quite feel in control as she twisted her curled hair around her finger, certainly acting like she was a dumb teenager with a crush all over again.

“Very pretty,” He chuckled as he rested his elbow on the counter, “The most beautiful woman in Chicago.” He continued to tease with her, but something in his tone made her feel like it was serious. She flushed, grateful for how dark the room was suddenly.

“Now you’re being funny,” She told him, but her cheeks still burned as she suddenly wondered if she should take another shot for a confidence boost, “You’re very handsome too.” She told him, fully meaning it. She wasn’t drunk enough for her mind to be that clouded. She could easily recognize how attractive he truly was, that he wasn’t someone she’d wake up to in the morning and regret.

“Do you dance?” He asked her, squinting his eyes softly as he trailed his eyes down towards her lips. She prayed that her lipstick hadn’t smudged, or that she didn’t have anything hiding in between her teeth.

“Not well,” She smiled as she leaned closer to him, “Unless you count line dancing.” She told him with a laugh, standing close enough that she could smell the tequila on his breath. She suspected that there was a hint of cigarette smoke there, but she couldn’t be completely sure.

“Line dancing?” He repeated with a chuckle, his brown eyes sparkling in disbelief, “That’s your dance of choice?” He questioned as he brought his drink up to his lips, looking towards her in amusement.

“Not by choice,” She protested, “I had to learn it when I was little. My mom thought it would be cute if my siblings and I all learned how to do it.” She explained as she thought about the memory, recognizing how ridiculous it must sound.

“And you remember it by heart.” Steve stated as he leaned lazily against the bar, his long legs sticking out from his position.

“Yes,” She said before she pressed her lips together, trying to hide her grin that was forming, “And because it’s just fun.” She admitted a second later, knowing that she had put so much effort into it as a child that she had become good at it.

“Maybe you can teach me sometime,” He teased as he took another gulp from his drink, “But not tonight. I’d probably make a fool out of myself.” He set his cup back down before he wiped the condensation off on his jeans. He held onto her elbow softly before she took a hold of his fingers, gripping onto him.

“And you’re not wearing your line dancing boots,” She teased as she dragged him out towards the dance floor, trying to find a spot where they wouldn’t be bumping against people, “Thirty is an exciting age I hear.” She told him, neglecting to mention her own fear as her birthdays passed. She desperately needed to sort out her own life before she grew any older.

“I’m old,” He laughed as he moved his hands to her hips, “At least I feel it.” Her heart continued to race inside of her chest, beating against her bones as he pressed her back against his chest. He was warm and solid, but not strong enough to be uncomfortable. He was still soft, steady.

“Thirty is so young,” She said with a gasp, “You don’t look a day over twenty nine.” She teased as she glanced over his shoulder, her lips parting as she began to move her hips to the beat of the music. She held onto his wrists, holding him in place as waves crashed deep inside of her.

“Perfect,” He grinned as his nose brushed against her cheek, “Did you make any big birthday wishes?” His voice was husky, deep as she felt the curve of his lips pressing against her skin. She moved her hands up towards his forearm, enjoying the feeling.

“Just one,” She hummed as she continued to brush her fingertips across his arms, enjoying the way his skin felt underneath hers, “I just want this year to be good. I want to be happy.” She said at last, stalling her thoughts about how shitty the previous year would be. She wouldn’t think about it right now. She didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“That’s pretty deep,” He mumbled against her skin as he drifted his slender fingers across her smooth neck, “I don’t know if I can make your whole year good, but what about one night?” His voice was softer, slightly more raspy as he mumbled his suggestion to her.

She felt her stomach flip a few times as butterflies spread through her body, fluttering so harshly she was sure that her knees might give out. A warmth spread through her, burning her skin harshly as she quickly absorbed his words.

“Your place?” She asked, watching the way he nodded his head in agreement, “I just need to let my friends know. Do you have a Snap? Just in case I lose you.” She added as she turned to face him, tucking her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t going to cry in front of this handsome stranger.

“Uh, yeah,” He fumbled with his phone for a moment before he pulled it free. He squinted as he unlocked it, making a face until he held the app towards her, “What’s yours?” He questioned as she typed it in, then ensured that she got the request on her side.

“Pussyslay3r69?” She asked with a laugh, raising an eyebrow as she tilted her chin up towards his direction. His eyes widened for a moment before his features turned sheepish. Her laughter turned into soft giggles as she squeezed at his bicep, letting her fingers linger there for a moment too long.

“My friend made it,” He grumbled as his cheeks turned pink, “I’ll see you in a minute then.” He stated as she nodded her head along, curious as to if his username was true or not. She brushed her fingertips against his softly, gently before she trudged her way back through the crowd. She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring that she wouldn’t lose him.

“Are you ready?” Daisy asked as she swayed her hips back and forth, one hand against Baron’s reddened cheek, “He has to work tomorrow.” She explained as Baron ran his fingers through her blonde hair, playing with it softly.

“Not quite,” Daphne grinned as she glanced over her shoulder once again, even though she couldn’t see Steve anymore, “I’m going to go home with someone else tonight.” She added, rolling her eyes at the way Daisy and Lila wolf whistled at her.

“Who with?” Gillian demanded as she rested her hands on her hips, her dark eyebrows furrowing together in worry. She had taken to cutting her dark hair short, letting it rest against her collarbones.

“A guy,” Daphne replied, “And don’t worry, I shared my location with you already.” She told her seriously, knowing that Gillian could be just a smidge overprotective. Just a bit.

“Text me,” She demanded as she pointed at her, “I don’t want to find out you’re dead from Tik Tok.” She shook her head, sighing softly like her worst fear was already coming true. Daphne pressed her lips together.

“Gil,” Daisy sighed as she shook her head, “Daphne is really careful. And her parents are rich so obviously she’d try and pull some ransom over them first.” She explained as she earned a chorus of laughs from their little group.

“You guys are so funny,” Daphne replied as she shook her head once again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She added as she put her thumbs up, more excited for herself than anything.

It had been a long few months of stale dates and even worse Tinder hookups. She was completely over Hugh, minus the bitter feelings. But there was only so much forgiveness to go around when your boyfriend was caught hooking up with your twin. It sort of put a damper on things.

“I got an Uber,” Steve explained once she found him, exactly in the spot she’d left him in, “I thought you might get cold.” He added as he drifted his eyes over her arms. She held them out playfully, watching the way the sequins sparkled in the night lights.

“You can’t get cold when you look this cute,” She told him as she moved her hand to his bicep, holding him gently as he maneuvered them through the crowd, “But thank you.” She told him seriously, glad that she wouldn’t have to walk through the windy city in her little dress and very high heels.

The Uber ride was short but comfortable. Steve was easy to talk to, charismatic and just a little dorky. There was an easy going manner to him that she craved, like he had nothing to hide. He didn’t speak to her like he only wanted one thing either. It was different, nice. Very nice.

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he let her walk inside the elevator first. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection; her sash hanging loosely and crown lopsided on top of her messy hair. She shifted her dress down a bit, suddenly wondering if he thought her dress was too whoreish.

“Perfectly fine,” She replied as she held her hands up gently, “But I appreciate you asking.” She told him once he pressed the button for his floor. It was quiet in his apartment, pretty and put together.

“You can grab whatever from the fridge if you get hungry,” He added quickly as he glanced towards her, waiting as the elevator continued to climb, “Or anything to drink.” He added as he reached for her hand, linking their fingers together as he guided her towards his apartment.

“Sounds good,” She told him as she looked around, keeping a tight grip on his hand so she wouldn’t get lost, “This is expensive looking.” She teased him, knowing it was far better than her dorm or Hugh’s apartment. Even Gillian and Michael’s place wasn’t this nice.

“Thanks,” He laughed as he glanced over his shoulder before he opened the door, “It’s home.” He said as he pushed the door open, holding it open for her so she could walk inside first. She peered around curiously, noticing the various plants that were littered about. He didn’t have many photos, but there were plenty of maps hung and placed around.

She followed him down the hallway towards his room, unable to stop and inspect the different photos and decorations as he dragged her forward. There wasn’t much, sort of like he had meant to decorate it in a minimalist style. She didn’t want to lose the feeling of his hand against her own. It felt good.

“Your place is nice,” She told him seriously as she looked around his room, “Bring many people back here?” She asked him as she felt her nerves coming forth. She wished she had taken one last shot before they had left.

“Not usually for hookups,” He admitted as he brushed his index finger across the curve of her cheek, “I guess you’re the first.” He whispered softly as she gazed up into his brown eyes, confirming that there was a speck of green mingled with the brown hue.

“Lucky me.” She responded, even though she felt like her confidence had dwindled away as he continued to drag his eyes across her features. She didn’t let it bother her that this would only be a hookup, at least she had him for a night. One glorious night was all she needed.

His breath was warm against her skin as he bent towards her, one hand resting against the side of his cheek before he brought his lips against her skin. She tilted her head, sighing softly at the way he dragged his mouth against her slender neck. He pressed his thumb onto the opposite side, sending a shiver down her back.

“S’pretty,” He mumbled as he dragged his fingers down her sides gently. She flushed at the compliment, shivers forming on her skin as he continued to kiss along the curve of her neck, “You smell nice.”

“Thanks,” She whispered softly as his nose brushed against hers, bumping so softly as she found her lips opening towards his mouth, “You’re really pretty.” She whispered softly, feeling like her tongue was twisted and tied into various knots. It was suddenly as if she didn’t know how to act.

His bottom lip just barely pressed against hers, slotting against her mouth like a puzzle piece that had been missing for some time. She opened her mouth in surprise at the jolts of electricity that traveled through her body, sighing dreamily at the way his lips felt against hers.

Smooth and warm, soft. It put a fuzzy feeling through her as she moved her hand against his shoulders as his large hands fell to her hips. His kiss was slow and delicate, deep as she felt her mind slipping away into the pleasure of his mouth on hers.

“I appreciate it.” He chuckled as he pulled his lips into a grin, giving her sides a soft squeeze as he drifted his face back towards hers. He held onto her cheek tightly, squeezing as he dragged his mouth against the corner of her lips before he kissed her again. She felt sparks forming through her chest, racing through her veins at the way he kissed her.

She could blame it on the alcohol, but deep down she knew that she had never been kissed in such a manner before. It was deep and sensual, slow and hungry as he just barely nipped and licked at her. She wanted more.

She lost herself in him as he drifted his hands down towards her shoulders, sparks traveling as he slowly pushed the sleeves off of her shoulders. The chilly air hit her, but she stayed warm underneath his touch. Her heart was pulsing harshly in her chest, making her gape as he slid his tongue inside of her mouth.

It still didn’t feel messy or urgent, like he was rushing to get her in and out. Her head was buzzing as her tongue molded against his, sliding easily as he moved his hands down the middle of her spine and began to unzip slowly.

Her cheeks were burning as they pulled apart, his eyes glazed over as he slowly let her dress fall into a puddle at her feet. She exhaled, stifling her nervous laughter as she stepped out of it. His brown eyes wandered from her chest, down to her hips and then her legs.

“You’re beautiful,” He told her softly as he took her hands, tugging her along slowly with him, “Come here.” He mumbled as he dragged her nude body towards his, her heart pounding harshly inside of her chest.

She caught a small glimpse of his room, taking in the gray sheets and many pillows before she was toppling back against the mattress. She laughed this time as the air left her lungs and her hair framed her face. She sat up a bit, only to be met with his mouth once again.

His kiss was deeper this time, making her moan as his large hands fell to her perky tits. She gasped against his mouth as he began to pinch at her nipples, his lips curling into a cocky grin as she rutted her hips forward.

“Steve,” She whined softly as he rolled her hard nipples in his fingers again, making her chest arch towards him, “I want you.” She whispered softly, blinking slowly as she took in his messy hair and darkened eyes.

“You are,” He mumbled as he trailed his lips down her neck, then down her chest as he moved from mole to mole. Freckle to freckle. She was covered in them. She drifted her hands up above her head, sighing as she enjoyed the sensation, “Just relax.” He hummed as he flicked his tongue out underneath her belly button, making her shiver.

He looped his slender fingers through the bands of her thong, pulling them down slowly as she lifted her hips for support. She felt her face burning as he slowly dropped them, pressing her knees apart as he fully took in the image of her.

“So pretty,” He added as he kissed at her slender thighs, making her clit throb from the anticipation, “I bet you taste even better.” He hummed as he dragged his tongue across her thighs, making her legs jolt in pleasure.

She didn’t have time to speak, but even if she could, her mind was not working in a way that would help her to form words. A gasp left her lips as his warm breath fell against her slick cunt, his brown eyes locking in on her blue ones before he stuck his tongue out and dragged it against her wet folds.

She crooned, her whole body jolting from the sensation as he wasted no time after that. His tongue was everywhere, dipping in between her pink folds before he pressed two fingers against her skin to spread her apart for him.

Her mind broke at the feeling of his tongue flicking against her clit, lapping at the sensitive bud repeatedly as she dug her heels into the mattress. Her body burst into blames, her pussy aching as soft groans fell from his lips and vibrated against her cunt.

“Oh God,” She whined as she shut her eyes, her hips rolling on their own as the pleasure filled her deeply. He moved his slender fingers to her clit, rubbing softly as he kissed his mouth lower and lower, “Steve. Oh my God.” She spasmed underneath him, her fingers falling to his thick brown locks.

He prodded his tongue against her wet hole, licking away her slick slowly as he moved his hands to her hips. He kept her steady, pressing her against the mattress as he buried his tongue inside of her aching cunt. She mewled loudly as the wildfire spread deep inside of her stomach, the pleasure filling her greatly. Her moans were rolling off of her tongue, filling his bedroom with loud melodies.

Steve’s tongue curled deep inside of her, licking and circling at her crying walls as his nose fell into place against her clit. Her fingers curled tightly in his hair, nudging him closer as her legs became numb.

He dragged his fingers down slowly, earning a loud squeal from her as he slid two long fingers inside of her wet cunt. She sat up a little higher, eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted as he began to drag his fingers in and out of her fluttering walls.

“Look at you,” He cooed as he pressed soft kisses against her clit, groaning as he pumped his digits deep inside of her, “She’s taking me so good. Your pussy looks so pretty stretched around me.” He hummed, sending a fresh wave of vibrations through her body as her walls stretched along his slender fingers.

“Fuck,” She hissed out, the words feelign heavy against her tongue as she began to grind herself against his fingers more frantically. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on the soft bud at the same time he began to rapidly flick his tongue against it, “Oh, oh! Fuck!” She squeaked out, her chest tightening as the muscles in her stomach broke.

She came with a loud cry, moaning from deep inside of her throat as the pleasure wrapped thickly around her. Her insides burned in a way she’d never experienced, her body shaking as the feeling continually washed and crashed over.

She fell back against the pillows, eyes wide as she stared up at the ceiling. Her heart hammered roughly inside of her chest, her breathing labored as her body trembled underneath his slow movements. He continued to lick and prod at her pussy, his fingertips digging deep into her pale flesh as she tried to gain sense of her surroundings.

“Still there?” He mumbled a second later, pulling away to rub soft circles into her hips. She blinked slowly, a bubble of giggles slipping free from her mouth as she finally found herself slipping through the fog in her mind.

“Yeah,” She exhaled deeply as she slowly pulled herself up once again, feeling like her body was weighed down by cement blocks as she met his hazy brown eyes, “I’m here.” She gaped softly as she took in the ravenous look on his features.

His lips and chin were wet, slick from her cum as he looked up at her with hazy eyes. She breathed in deeply, panting softly as the pleasure washed over it. Everything felt even more intense as he drifted his thumb lazily against her clit.

“She’s so sweet,” He hummed softly as he continued to slowly pump his fingers inside of her aching hole. She whined in bliss, her body moving wildly as she began to rock herself back against the length of his fingers, “So needy.” He teased, chuckling softly as he sat up on his knees.

She moaned as he slowly withdrew his fingers, her walls crying in protest at the loss of contact. She wanted him again, wanted to feel him deep inside of her. It was a carnal need, something that she had never felt before with Hugh. She thought that she might die if she didn’t feel Steve inside of her, and didn't feel their bodies molding together.

He stuck his tongue out as he licked his fingers clean, making her eyes widen at the way he held eye contact with her. She could feel her entire body flush, warming at the filthy sensation that filled her.

She sat up, gripping the collar of his shirt as she roughly connected their lips. A chuckle came from his mouth as she kissed him deeply, licking away the taste of herself from his tongue. She’d never done something so dirty before, never felt so alive.

She began to messily unbutton his shirt, struggling before he took over. He peeled his shirt off easily, his lips moving sweeter against hers. Her hands quickly fell to his bare chest, her palms exploring his warm skin and the thick hair that grew along his chest.

He removed his belt next, then struggled out of his jeans and boxers as she quickly moved her hands where she could help. She fell against him, her head thumping against his in the act. They laughed in unison, both breathless as he quickly removed his socks and then settled back in between her legs.

She bit down on her finger, staring in fascination as she drank in the image of his body over top of hers. His tone was slightly warmer than hers, covered in dark hair and a mass amount of moles. She bit back a grin, thinking that it matched the beauty marks on her own body.

She watched as he wrapped his long fingers around his cock, giving his girth a squeeze before he gave himself a quick stroke. He was long, far bigger than anyone she had ever been with before. His dick was paler than the rest of his body, but the head of his cock remained a soft pink like his lips.

“S’big,” She spit up as she sat up on her elbows, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched him slide the condom over his long length. She was fairly certain it was going to hurt, but she didn’t want to scare him off, “Can I touch?’

“Yes,” He laughed as he chewed on his bottom lip, giving his cock two slow strokes before she moved her hand to his pink tip. She exhaled at the feeling of him against her palm, of how heavy and natural he felt against her. She moved her hand languidly, enjoying the way he throbbed against her skin, “Wanna fuck you.” He mumbled as he leaned over her, his heavy cock leaning against her abdomen as he peppered a soft kiss against her lips.

She nodded her head as she adjusted herself against his pillows, inhaling deeply through her nose as she pulled her knees further apart and towards her chest. She felt small underneath him, tiny despite her long legs.

He rubbed his fingers across her clit once again, cooing as her body jolted at the impact. With his other hand he held himself, pressing his tip against her slick hole before he slid the tip of his cock inside of her wet pussy.

Her lungs felt broken, like all the air had been punched free as her mouth fell open in awe. He slid himself in slowly, letting her adjust inch by inch as her fingers twisted into the pillow case above her head.

His groans were as loud as her moans, mingling into a symphony as it filled the dark room. He used his free hand to caress her, his lips moving lazily over hers as she felt her walls gradually being stretched around him. It was a glorious feeling, filling her with so much pleasure that she thought she might cry.

“S’okay?” He mumbled, his voice coming out raspy and slightly whiny as one of his large hands fell to her perky tits. She moaned at the feeling of her skin being captured by his, of the way he softly pressed her pink nipple between his fingers, “You’re taking my cock so good.” He praised her, making her coo as she moved her fingers to his back.

“Feels good,” She encouraged him with wide eyes, whining at the way he began to thrust inside of her. Each time he pressed back in, she swore that he filled her deeper. She had never been so close to someone before, felt so filled, “Oh fuck. Right there.” She cried out as he rocked deep inside of her, his cock pressing against a spot that made her see stars.

Her head fell back, her eyes squinting shut as she found it too hard to keep them open with the pleasure that was throbbing inside of her. She felt her body dragging against the mattress, sinking deep inside as she felt herself leaking around his fat girth.

“So good for me,” He groaned as his nose fell to her cheek, his lips against her skin as his grunts filled her ear in a song she wouldn’t forget for some time, “You like that, huh?” He moaned as he continued to drag her body along the length of his cock, sinking in deeper and further against her bundle of nerves.

“Fuck!” She cried out as she spasmed underneath him, her fingernails digging into his muscles as the burning sensation filled her again. Her cunt gripped him tightly, her toes curling as she rocked her body to the beat of his, “Yes, yes! Fuck, right there!” She babbled off, eyebrows furrowed as she was sure she made no sense at all. The pleasure was too much for her to handle, silly words slipping free as she was unable to help herself.

He grunted as he messily kissed at her lips, his cock sliding easily inside of her as her cunt leaked around him. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room suddenly, mixing with the pleasures that slipped from their tongues.

She felt like she was floating, her body high in the air as the bliss of it all took over. She came harder than before, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped ahold of him. She suddenly felt changed, like she’d never feel something this good ever again. Her mind became fuzzy, her eyes hazy and watery as her pussy clamped down along his dick.

“Steve,” She whimpered as she dragged her nails down his back, her hips still grinding up against him as the crash of her orgasm still washed over her. He huffed in response, his head falling back as his features wrinkled up in pleasure, “You feel so good.” She breathed out as she moved her lips to his neck, trying to kiss him but unable to complete the motions. She paused at the crook of his neck, swearing she could feel his pulse underneath his skin.

“Daphne,” He groaned as his movements stalled, his thrusts becoming deeper and slower. He sighed loudly as he reached down to grip the base of his cock, pulling himself free in one quick motion before he tugged the condom off of the length of his cock, “Shit.” He grunted, her eyes widened as she wondered if he was going to fill her with his cum.

He stroked his cock once, then twice before thick ropes of his spunk fell against her abdomen. It coated her skin up towards her chest and even landed underneath her chin. She stared at him in bliss, watching as he slowly gave himself a few more strokes before he lazily dropped his head again.

He fell against her, nearly crushing her as his breath remained labored with hers. She held onto him softly, soaking in the feeling of his skin against hers as she rubbed at his back. She moved her fingers to his hair, pushing it out of the way so she could get a better look at his pretty face.

“Was that alright?” He hummed as her chest continued to drag up and down as she still felt the energy pulsing from inside of her. She tugged a grin up to her lips, not caring about the wet feeling between her legs or the cum that coated her skin. It was nice. A feeling she could get used to. She would certainly be sore walking home in the morning.

“More than alright,” She breathed out as she faced him, heart hammering at the way his lips sparked a smile, “Best birthday present ever.”

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington series #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington x Oc #Steve Harrington x original character #Steve Harrington x Fem!OC #Steve Harrington x female!oc #Steve Harrington x Female!original character #Steve x Daphne #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington x Daphne Williams #Original Character #illicit affairs

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just1alien · 1 year ago

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Don't it taste like holy water? Ao3 version

Agatha Harkness x Female Reader

Warnings: Slow burn; Smut; Oral; Reader receiving.

Manthing and minors are DNI.

Hope you can enjoy it as much as I did while writing it.

Do you have suggestions? Requests? You can tell me everything, dear. But make no mistake, always be polite around here, understood?

...

“It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Agatha's eyes narrow, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

“You sound like you're implying you know me somehow?”

“Precisely. I was sent here to help you to control yourself. Recently, you made quite a mess with Wanda.”

“That woman is insane! Everything that happened was her fault! She scoffs. Wait! Sent here? I don't remember calling for help from anyone.”

“Oh, the coven sent me, darling.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Of course they did, I'm sure they're all so worried about me. The lot of them can shove it, especially the so-called, 'High Council'. I don't need any help, thank you very much.”

“I think you do, Agatha.”

“And what makes you such an expert, hm? Do you know anything that's happened? Or do you just want to judge the book by its cover?”

“Perhaps I am an expert, or a treat. What do you think?”

“A treat?”

She laughs, a small smirk forming on her lips.

“Are you trying to be a flirtatious little temptress, dear? If so, you're doing a quite terrible job.”

“So full of yourself.”

“Oh please, honey. In my over three hundred years of being a witch, I have never once not had someone pining over me. I know I'm beautiful, and I'm smart enough to know it. You're no different, you just won't admit it yet. How old are you again, love? Surely no more than mid-thirties, if I'm being generous.”

“Oh, trying to play the mentalist, charming. But make no mistake, I'm not here to flirt. As I said, I was sent by the coven. Check it if you want. Now, are we going to get out from this forest?”

She lets out an exaggerated groan, throwing her head back dramatically.

“It appears I have no choice but to get out of this wretched place, then. Let us go. But I have a few conditions.”

“What conditions, Agatha?”

“One, absolutely ZERO flirting from either side. Two, I don't do anything I deem beneath me. Three, my familiar, Señor Scratchy, is non-negotiable. Are we clear?”

“Very clear, 'miss zero flirting'. You were so certain that I was here to tempt you. Shame on you.”

“Shut it, smart ass.”

She turns around, walking towards the edge of the forest.

“Follow me and don't fall behind.”

“Yes, mistress.”

I pointed out the last word, just to see her reaction.

“You heard it. Now, can we please continue walking?”

“Oh, we'll be continuing, but first we're going to discuss your choice of words.”

She grabs you by the chin, bringing your face right up to hers.

“Let's get one thing straight here, darling: you do not call me, 'mistress' ever again. You hear me? Do I make myself clear on that one?”

I left a loud chuckle escape from my lips.

“Oh, Agatha. Very intimidating.”

She growls, letting go of your chin.

“Don't make me regret this decision to bring you along, darling.”

She resumes walking, looking back over her shoulder.

“You better keep up if you know what's good for you.”

“Sure.”

The forest begins to clear, a beautiful village appearing before you. A smile forms on Agatha's face, her eyes lighting up.

“Ah, I'd almost forgotten how pretty this place was.”

“Beautiful, indeed.”

I said, admiring not the village itself, but her smile.

“Come, let's pay my old cottage a visit.”

She starts walking down the cobble-paved road, admiring the scenery. Despite the fact she can look as young as she wants, you remember that she's likely three hundred years old. This village is likely the world she first lived in. Her hometown. And she's seeing it for the first time in centuries. It's no wonder she is so enamored by it.

“Please, lead the way.”

“Ah, that I will.”

Her cottage comes into view not too far down the road. It looks like a fairy tale house that could come right out of a story book. The outside is made entirely of dark oak, with a thatched roof. A small herb garden is in the front of the cottage, with many plants and flowers you don't even recognize. The porch has two cozy rocking chairs, and a hammock sits idly hanging to the side by the front door.

I came closer to the herbs, analyzing them.

“Interesting...”

Agatha comes to stand beside you, a prideful smile on her face.

“Ah, my collection of ingredients. I have a few that are my finest, such as the Devil's Ivy, or the Deadly Nightshade. I also grow things on a less... Deadly side. Such as the Basil, Lavender and Catnip.”

“Catnip? Are you a cat person, Agatha?”

My tone was playful.

She rolls her eyes, but you can see a small smile on her lips.

“No, I actually like rabbits the best. Speaking of which, you've yet to meet my familiar, Señor Scratchy.”

A little rabbit comes hopping over to you, circling your feet curiously and sniffing you.

“Hello, little one!”

I said, touching his fur.

Señor Scratchy tilts his head up and makes a soft grunt, rubbing up against your leg.

“See, according to him, you can trust on me.”

I gave her my best smile.

“Don't think that little move won me over yet, love.”

She kneels down to Scratchy, petting his head and scratching behind his ears.

“Such a sweet little boy, yes? Oh, who's a good bunny, yes you are, yes you are! Hmm? Should mommy give you a little snack? Yes? You deserve it, dear.”

She opens the door as Scratchy runs in, and gestures for you to follow her inside.

“Thank you.”

I entered, watching my steps.

The inside of her cottage is just as beautiful and magical as the outside. The furniture looks old, but well taken care of. A small fire is lit in the fireplace, and the smell of herbs hangs in the air. Everything about the cottage is homely and comforting. Despite being 300 years old, Agatha clearly takes great pride in her home. In one armchair by the fireplace, Señor Scratchy has curled up into a little ball. He is clearly not used to getting visitors.

“Cozy, for a murderer witch.”

She smiles, sitting down on her old-fashioned chair, putting her feet up.

“Of course, darling. Just because I enjoy a good hex and curse doesn't mean I don't also like a comfortable home. I enjoy the finer things in life.”

Agatha's eyes roam over to you, a knowing smirk playing at her lips.

“I'm guessing you wouldn't know about that. You clearly don't enjoy the finer things.”

“Where is that coming from? Trying to push my buttons?”

I seated on the other chair, waiting for her to answer me.

“And if I am, what are you going to do about it?”

Agatha leans back, resting her head on her interlocked fingers. She's clearly enjoying teasing you.

“What a teaser. Some may say you're desperate for attention.”

I locked my eyes on her.

She laughs, letting her head roll back against the back of the chair

“What then? Does it excite you? Does it bother you? Hmm?”

She looks back over at you, her eyes raking over your body, slowly.

“Unbelievable, Agatha. Anyway, now that you're having me around, I need a place to rest.”

She raises an eyebrow, a devilish look in her eyes.

“Oh? So you'll be staying with me? My, my, how intriguing. Perhaps you won't be too much of a bother after all, darling.”

She stands up.

“Come along, I'll show you the guest room. I'm sure you've had a long journey.”

“Thank you very much, Agatha.”

I followed her.

“No need to thank me, it's my pleasure, doll.”

She leads you down a small hallway past a bathroom and down to the guest bedroom.

“Here we are. This should have everything you need to freshen up, and the bed is plenty big too. I'll be in the kitchen, should you need anything.”

She smiles politely, but you sense that she is hiding another motive.

“Doll? Do you like using pet names on strangers?”

“Ah, it's a bad habit. What can I say? I enjoy giving attention.”

She steps closer to you, bringing her arm up to gently stroke your cheek. She gazes at you intently.

“And besides, you are quite the cutie-pie. Those luscious lips are just so... Biteable.”

“I thought you were the one who said 'no flirting either side'. Can't control yourself near me?”

She brings her mouth up to your ear, her breath brushing your lobe.

“Darling, I've never been able to control myself when I see something I like. I take what I want, and you are looking rather... Delicious at the moment.”

I tried to control my breath with her proximity, her perfume filling my nostrils.

“So demanding, Agatha.”

She gently brings your chin up towards her face, her lips inches from your own. She murmurs slowly.

“I can see your heart is beating fast, my love. Are you nervous, hmm? Or perhaps... Excited?”

“Or bothered by your boldness.”

“Oh, I'm sure you are.”

She moves a finger up to your lips, trailing lightly over them.

“I can feel how soft those lips are, how tender. It would be such a shame if no one got to taste them.”

She leans in closer, and you can feel her breath gently tickling your skin. It's clear she is about to kiss you. Your body and mind are screaming at you to stop her, but in your heart you know you want it.

“Back off, Agatha. I'm not one of your girls.”

I said harshly, entering her guest room.

“I'll see you on the kitchen, ok?”

She frowns.

“I was so close to having a taste, how disappointing.”

With a resigned huff, she turns away and starts to walk towards the kitchen.

“Suit yourself. I'll be in the kitchen, doll.”

I gave her an annoyed look before shutting the door.

After I changed myself to something comfortable, I met her on the kitchen.

Agatha is stirring a pot of stew over a blazing fire, wearing a simple black dress that's quite flattering on her. Her hair is tied up into a loose ponytail, and her feet are bare.

“Well, look at you, doll. Getting changed into something, comfy, were you? Is that a hint from you, perhaps?”

Agatha smirks, raising a suggestive eyebrow at you.

“What are you doing?”

I asked, ignoring her teasing.

“Oh, I'm just making a little something for dinner, that's all.”

She grabs a ladle from a nearby shelf, scooping the stew into two bowls. Handing you one, she takes her own and sits down at a small, round wooden table in the kitchen.

“Come my love, let's eat.”

The stew looks absolutely divine, smelling of beef and vegetables. She eats quite elegantly, a trait of her upbringing, no doubt.

“So you like to cook.”

“Hm? Oh, yes I do. I find cooking quite enjoyable, it relaxes me. I don't do it very often, but I can hold my own when it comes to making a good meal. You should taste this stew. I guarantee you'll find it delicious. It's quite the recipe, I learnt it from a very kind witch about... Oh, a hundred years ago now.”

She gives a chuckle, as if the span of a hundred years are only the blink of an eye to her.

She was beautiful and interesting. When you were assigned to take notes by her actions, you were aware it would be difficult not to get drawned by her.

"Hmm, the stew tastes marvelous!”

I said, eating with content.

As good as the stew was, her smile was even more enticing. You found yourself entranced by everything she did, from the way she picked up the bowl with her slender fingers, up to how she brought every spoonful to her plump lips. Her tongue would always dart out in the briefest of moments, licking away every stray drop. It was driving you mad.

“I'm so very glad you enjoy it, love. Perhaps I might just have to give you more of my cooking. We can make a great team, you and I.”

“Now you're ok with my company? What changed your mind?”

She lets out a chuckle, shaking her head.

“I never said I wasn't. You're quite charming, even if you've got that sharp tongue. I've grown quite fond of talking with you. Even if you try to deny it, I know you've been enjoying my company.”

She shoots a sly wink at you, her spoon dipping back in for more stew.

...

After we ended the meal, I found myself looking around her book colection.

“Fascinating.”

I said quietly to myself, unaware of her presence in the room.

She lets out a small hum of approval, placing a hand on her hip.

“Ah, my beloved library. This is where I spent most of my time whilst I lived here. This room is... Well, for a lack of a better word, magical.”

She comes up beside you, running a finger delicately across your back and making her way up to your shoulder. She leans down until her lips are at your ear, her voice lowering just slightly.

“Tell me... What do you like to read, darling?”

“What are you trying to get from me with this teasing, hun? I'm not so easy, Agatha.”

“Of course you're not, love. But I can make you so very easy if I so wanted.”

She steps closer behind you, her front pressing up against your back. Her hand traces a path up your shoulder and into your hair, stroking gently. Her voice drops even lower, the words practically whispered in your ear.

“I could have you begging for my touch, darling. One flick of my wrist and all your resistance would be gone. Oh you would look so very pretty beneath me, begging for every little mercy...”

“A-Agatha. Stop it!”

“Oh please, I know you want it.”

She tugs your hair lightly, pulling your head back to rest against her shoulder.

“That's it, love... You know that if you let me, I could have you screaming my name in no time... Begging me to go harder...”

I felt my knees going weak. It was hard to breathe.

She chuckles softly, tracing a finger down the line of your neck and onto your shoulder.

“That's it, darling... Relax for me... Give into it... Give into me... You know you want to... Your heart is beating so fast, your knees so weak... Your body knows what it wants...”

“From my point of view, you're the one begging, Agatha.”

She laughs lightly, bringing her hands down to rest on your hips. She begins to gently roll her abdomen along the small of your back, her breath hot in your ear.

“Is that so, love? Maybe I am the one begging, but you're the one practically melting in my hands."

She presses kisses along your jawline, leaving her mark on your skin.

“I know I'll have you begging much louder soon.”

I turned back to face her, feeling my desire along my inner thighs. She was evil.

She smiles, holding your chin with her fingers to make you look at her. Her thumb brushes gently across your bottom lip, her eyes searching yours

“Darling... What naughty things are you thinking about? I can see it in your eyes... Such sinful, beautiful thoughts...”

She tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her fingers tracing down the side of you face and gently cupping your cheek. Her voice is low and silky, so smooth to the ear.

That's it, she's on my mind. Falling into her game, I started to tease her too.

“I see you're still hungry, Agatha. Perhaps you wanna taste some dessert.”

I pushed my dark green nightgown up just a bit.

She lets out a chuckle, her eyes hungrily devouring your exposed skin.

“Oh darling... You're so very naughty. Showing me a glimpse of your body... You're trying to tempt me, aren't you? You're craving my touch, aren't you darling?”

She takes hold of your hips, pulling you close and pressing her body against you. You can see the want in her eyes, the desire within her starting to spark just from the sight of your skin.

“I want your warm tongue elsewhere, Agatha. I want to see the great witch on her knees.”

“Oh, you are so very bad aren't you love?”

She purrs, her mouth moving to kiss at your neck. She starts to trace a path down, her lips working along your skin and leaving small red marks.

“Me, bad? Perhaps you'll see...”

“That is what I love about you, darling... You're so naughty and so very sexy...”

She continues leaving marks on your skin, her mouth eventually reaching the hem of your night gown. Her hands come up to play with the smooth, silken fabric, rubbing it between her fingers and teasing your sensitive hips.

I was using her book shelf to keep me from falling.

She presses you up against the bookshelf, pulling away from your skin for a brief moment to look up at you. There's nothing but pure desire in her dark, lusting eyes.

“Darling, you're not going to last very long if you keep standing... Let me help you.”

“No...

I walked to her couch, feeling her eyes on me.

“You're are the one to kneel, remember?”

“Well I'll be... Who knew you had such a dominant side, doll?”

She smiles, sauntering over to the couch and kneeling down by your legs. Her hands gently come to rest on your knees, beginning to move up your legs under your night gown.

“Are you going to treat me well, love? Or am I at you mercy?”

She smirks, her eyes gleaming with dark desire.

“Oh, sometimes you like to give in, hun? Wonderful. Now, taste me.”

Her smirk turns to a seductive grin, her hands moving up your inner thighs.

"You really are a bad girl... But then again... So am I.”

She gently presses her head against your thigh, leaving a small bite. Her mouth works its way up your leg, eventually reaching your heat and pressing her hot lips against you, giving you a few soft kisses.

I intertwined my fingers between her hair. Her soft, messy hair.

I arched my back with her move...moaning softly.

She begins to move her tongue deeper between your folds, moaning softly herself from the taste of your dripping heat. Her hands begin to move up your body, gently caressing your quivering abdomen and eventually reaching your sensitive, needy breasts.

“You're so very beautiful... So very... Perfect..."

“I want you between my legs until I be satisfied. Are we clear, Agatha?”

“Well, when put that way darling, how could I ever say no?”

She laughs, gently biting at your inner thigh.

“Don't worry love... There will be more than enough of me left to please you tonight...”

“Finish your job down there, darling. Hush.”

“Oh, so very demanding... Let me have a little more fun first. I want to worship your body, darling.... You deserve it.”

She places a delicate kiss on your belly, working her way up up your body and eventually reaching your mouth.

"Oh darling... Your mouth.... Your body... So very delivshous...”

I felt my own taste on her mouth. It made me gone mad.

“Stop teasing me, now. Go back down and do it, Agatha. I can't take it anymore.”

She gives a smirk, looking into your eyes with a dangerous lust

“I see... So you're desperate for me...”

She begins to pull down your night gown, removing your underwear slowly and giving you a few more kisses.

“Very well... As you wish, my love...”

She lowers herself down, her breath tickling your heat.

“Ready, darling...?"

“Please, Agatha. Just...d-do it.”

She smiles, her voice a seductive whisper

“As you ask darling... Enjoy....”

Her lips meet your heat, and she begins to devour you with hunger. Every inch of you is consumed with her attention, her every movement being dedicated to giving you the most pleasure... It's almost overwhelming just how skillful her mouth is.

“You taste so very good love...”

“I'm...close...keep...doing it....”

My naked body was on fire, desperate to release myself on her mouth.

She moans at your words, knowing that you're right there on the edge. Her mouth works even harder than before, pushing your ever closer to the sweet release.

“You're almost there, love... Almost there....”

I rolled my hips, feeling her tongue work harder unti I came all over her face.

She works you through every wave of pleasure, lapping up ever drop that you give her. When the last of your orgasm has faded, she sits up, a huge smile on her face and her chin glistening with your juices. She gives you a satisfied smile.

“God, darling... You have no idea how delicious you are....”

“Oh, yes, I know. That's why you were on the ground, praising me.”

“That you did, love. My my, you're very demanding...”

She wipes her mouth with her arm, gently sitting up beside you and bringing a hand to your face.

“Are you happy now? Did I give you enough pleasure, darling?”

“Oh, Agatha...you can be so sweet, hun? I need to rest now.”

I picked up my nightgown and panties, walking to the guest room, still naked. I turned back to watch her following me.

“Have sweet dreams.”

She smiles, watching your retreating form as you walk towards the guest room and admiring the way your behind moves with your steps.

“Rest well, love. I hope you dream of me.”

“Oh, I will.”

She gives you a smirk, biting her lip as you close the door behind you. The moment you're out of sight, she lets out a small laugh, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair.

“And oh what dreams they will be....”

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha all along #agatha: darkhold diaries #agatha harkness smut #smut #fem x fem #witchcraft #sapphic #lesbian

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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 1 year ago

Note

School au (again wwwwww)

Lyney and the reader are close, so close the reader might've liked them a bit more than normal amount ever since they started hanging out, but... Recently, lyney has been spending more and more time with a brand new friend, so much, they don't have time for the reader or don't have time to see them waving from the hallway. But, lyney and the reader are dormmates, so lyney didn't take long to figure out that the reader has closed themselves in - not coming out of their room, hardly attending lessons, with lights dull in their room. Their heart was aching, they never hang out with anyone as much as lyney, and the liking they had for lynch made it worse (might be a romantic liking). One night lyney couldn't sleep and his ears heard the slight sound of... Crying..? Was it his dormmate in the other room...? His....friend?

Wait by the door like I'm just a kid- Lyney x Gn!reader

And watch you tolerate it.

t/w- fear of being replaced, slight yelling I mean very slight.

summary- As shown above

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Taglist form!

Lyney smiled, not at you but at someone else. You'd never seen him this happy, only with you. The brightness on his face hurt more than anything else. Why wasn't he this happy with you? Your heart ached, you couldn't tell Lyney you liked him. It was obvious that he didn't like you back.

His laugh echoed through the corridor as you turned away and headed back to your dorm, clutching your chest. As if you were trying to hold the pieces of your heart together. At your dorm, the best you could do was curl up into bed. You should've been happy he was smiling but it only brought you down.

"Lyney..." You muttered clutching your pillow. "I'm so stupid.."

It wasn't until later that night he came back into the dorm. You were long asleep. Lyney had noticed you weren't at lunch, but you might've just had some work to do.

The next day was much the same, Lyney was still talking to the person, almost ignoring you completely. You stayed in your room, staring at your laptop trying to find any motivation to do anything. But it was so hard, your fingers resting on the keys, eyes blankly staring. It felt all too hard.

You gave after God knows how long, and sat back in the comfort of your own bed. The pillow and stuffed toys on your bed being your only comfort. However today you decided to have for dinner. You walked to the closet fast food restaurant you could manage. The air con by the door hit you suddenly causing you to jolt. You walked over to the order station, just getting some chicken nuggets and whatever drink you felt like.

"Hey Y/N!" The one person you didn't feel like seeing was standing a little away from you, and guess who with.

"Hi, Lyney, and friend."

"Oh sorry I haven't introduced you too yet. Y/n this is Gaming. Gaming, Y/n."

Gaming smiled brightly at you, "Hi y/n! Would you like to join us?"

"No thank you." You said politely. "I've got work to do."

"Don't overwork yourself, please."

"Yeah, Yeah." Your order was called, and you quickly left without saying goodbye.

Back at your apartment you again couldn't focus on anything, your mind just kept wandering back to Lyney. How happy he was, without you. Lyney got home not long after you and gave you a quick hello before collapsing into bed. He seemed the fall asleep quickly because after that there was just silence. You decided to follow, crawling into bed, and pulling up the covers to your face.

Tears slowly dripped out of your eyes. You tried to keep quiet because lyney was in the room directly across from you and he never shut his door. But it was hard. You choked out sobs, gripping the pillow so tightly your knuckles turned white. Your sobs were so loud that you didn't here lyney in your room.

"Y/n? What's wrong."

You rolled the opposite directing from him hoping that he would give up, but you knew he wouldn't.

"Y/n-"

"Its you Lyney! And that stupid boy! You just stopped talking to me!"

Lyney looked hurt at your yelling, but you couldn't keep much of it in anymore.

"You just stopped talking to me y/n... I thought you hated me. You got so wrapped up in your work and just ignored me for weeks."

Now you were the one to get hurt. "Oh... Oh my Archons... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean too.. I..i."

"You know I could never hate you y/n?"

"Really?"

"Really."

He leaned closer and gave you a little peck on the lips. Enough to make you blush.

Taglist

@pandragonsoul @atsukawolfcat @keeyisbored

#lyney fluff #lyney angst #lyney #lyney genshin #lyney x reader #lyney genshin impact #lyney genshin #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney oneshot

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smilocity · 11 months ago

Text

Match made in heaven

ᴀ ʏᴀᴋᴜ ᴍᴏʀɪsᴜᴋᴇ x ғᴇᴍʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚙 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 '𝚘𝚕 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝! (𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙹𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚅𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖!

𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘!

It all started in high school in the year of 2012.

To be truthful, you never knew what you signed up for when one of your classmates in Class 5 asked you if you could be the boys volleyball team’s manager.

Initially, you were nervous to take up the job even though you knew most of the boys who are in the club. And it wasn’t helping that your friends are going to keep pestering you til you confess to the third-year libero.

So…you eventually gave in and talked to Nekoma’s coach to be appointed for the job the evening before you meet the team.

1 day later…

The coachs and you walked inside the gymnasium. Upon first glance, it looked very spacious and unfamiliar.

But hearing the coaches’ words made you think, ‘It’s not so bad after all.'

"Gather 'round!"

"Yes, sir!"

Nekomata-sensei smiled at his team before announcing great news. He had recently been spoken to about a new addition to the roster.

"Now, before I reveal who it is, I’d like you all to be nice on her first day, alright? We don’t her to get scared away, do we?" His words troubled the young athletes.

Yamamoto blinked for a seconds before gasping when seeing someone come into frame after hiding behind the coaches’ backs.

"We get a manager?!"

You flinched, not used to sudden yells out of the blue. Kuro scolded him for yelling so loud, reminding him of the words their coach told them.

"Yes," answered the coach before turning to introduce you, "This is our new manager starting from today. She’s had experience from her previous year so we didn’t need to make any trials. Welcome her warmly."

You bowed before the group of boys, "N-Nice to meet you!"

The team bowed to greet you, "Welcome to the Nekoma Boys’ Volleyball team!"

Yaku noticed you, giving you a small smile for accepting his proposal of being their manager.

"Okay! Stop ogling at the manager! Go back to practice! We have Golden Week and we’re not about to lose against our Rival Karasuno!"

"Yes, sir!"

And that’s how it kicked off.

Overall, everyone has been fairly nice to you and treated you well. Since you’re a third year, you were the closest to Kuro, Kai and Yaku. (Though, most of the time you’re trying to keep them from arguing with the help of Kai.)

Recently, you’ve been helping the first and second-years. Yamamoto kept on looking away from you while yelling, "I can’t look at her! It’s too much!"

Uh…Yeah…he’s uh…something.

(Eventually, you were able to talk to him for a few moments. But after the 45 second mark, he dashes off since he think he’s "unworthy of your attention".)

Kenma was by far the most closed off of all the players. But he did end up talking to you when you mentioned a game you just bought and was stuck on a level he beat a long time ago. (He currently, goes to you if you ever want to know of a new game that just came out.)

Fukunaga always has managed to make the shy and polite manager laugh at his jokes that he either makes during practice or time-outs. (The team thinks that your humour’s broken but haven’t told you directly.)

Inuoka and Shibiyama are the ones who want to talk to you but end up stuttering words.

It amused you as you assured them that they can speak freely when around you.

As said before, the third-years are the ones the closest you. But the one who talks to you the most is Yaku. Because he has the fastest crush on you.

It was revealed when Kai asked what type of girls the other third-years are interested in.

"Do you like girls with short hair, Yaku?" Asked, Kai as they changed to get into their P.E uniforms.

With a huge smile, the starting libero replied, "Yeah! I like ‘em a lot!"

Kai turned to the captain, "And what about you, Kuro?"

With a glare pointed towards the shortest player he stated, "Long hair."

After winning against Karasuno in a practice match. You went to congratulate the players. "You did really well, Yaku! Your receives were amazing!" You beamed, talking about how you were amazed by his skills.

It was a miracle that the manager didn’t notice his face being a tomato in front of her, "T-Thank you! I’ll do even better next time!"

His robotic words made Kuro snicker in the background, "Oh?~ The Demon Senpai has a soft spot for our sweet manager?"

In a few seconds, the libero kicked the middle blocker on his left side. You came up to the two of them to dissuade the situation, "Morisuke-kun! Please don’t beat Kuro-kun up…!"

In the blink of an eye, he stood still looking as if he didn’t beat up anybody beforehand.

"The fact that he only listens to her and the coaches is scary…" Inuoka mumbled, Shibuyama gave a nod in agreement.

The team knew of how infatuated Yaku is with their sweet manager. You, however, have only spoke to Kai about your feelings. (He strongly advised you to confess much to your disarray…)

"Maybe during the summer camp? You’ll have plenty of time to confess," Kai kindly smiled in your direction. (You would’ve cried in happiness and in thanks to him if you didn’t held back.)

You pondered on that suggestion, "That is…actually a good idea! Thank you so much, Kai!” The said third-year merely waved it saying it was nothing.

During summer camp, you felt yourself mostly talking to Yaku when he’s on break on not playing in any of the practice matches.

Along the way, Lev Haiba, a fire-year that is half Japanese and Half Russian just joined the club and school shortly before. Yaku was his receiving coach in order for him to get accustomed to the game.

The tall player called out to you, "Please help…Yaku-san is torturing me with receiving training…!" He whined, going up to you for comfort.

"What? Oh, no! You poor thing, Lev!" You felt bad for him, "Don’t worry, I’ll go have a talk with him, okay?"

Just in the nick of time, the libero appears to scolded Lev on leaving the gym, “Lev! I knew you were trying to escape! Yamamoto told me you said I let you off early! I didn’t say anything about that!"

"Morisuke-kun," hearing your voice made Yaku stiffen slightly, it wasn’t the usual kind and sweet tone you used. It was a cold tone you used when you weren’t having either someone’s antics.

You held your hips, lecturing on the third-year of how he needs to at least let Lev rest and repair his muscles before he goes back to training.

It was known that Lev behind you had the most smuggest smirk behind you. (I’m laughing at how funny it would look like to see someone of average, procreating a person at least three times their height.)

That night, Yaku apologized and promised he’d go a little easier on Lev. For your sake. (He didn’t, he just did it behind closed doors…)

Just before everyone got to bed. You went ahead to clean the gym so that when the players wake up, they would be able to play again early in the morning.

It didn’t take long but it was still exhausting, you decided to watch the stars before going to sleep.

"I didn’t know you were still here."

That voice made you jump slightly before turning to see it was Yaku who decided to join you by sitting down and looking at the sky.

"Sorry, I just noticed you here and I thought I’d go see if you were alright…" he managed to say, looking a little apologetic for interrupting

You immediately injected, saying you were merely startled by the noise, "Haha! You always say things like that to make others feel better," laughed the male student.

"I like that about you." Those words made your heart soar.

"You’re always caring and kind. But you know when to be strict. I’ve admired that kind of mentality you had. It just…drove me even deeper into liking you more," the messy blonde hair player confessed.

Then it hit you…

Yaku likes you… (AHEM. More like loves you but whatever…)

While hearing him continue unknowingly confess his feelings to you. You couldn’t help but whisper he next words that blew with the wind.

"I love you."

Yaku stopped mid-sentence and gave you a surprised look, "What did you just say…?"

With a red face, you tried to justify yourself, saying that you said nothing or mumbled words without knowing you said it out loud.

But Yaku heard them, and he wanted to hear it again, "Please repeat it…I want to answer you formally."

His gaze made you melt. It didn’t take long for you to shyly repeat what you said before, "I…love you."

Once those words were uttered out of your mouth, his hands held yours. He whispered your name softly, "I…"

"I love you, too."

His response made the entire world around you freeze, "Morisuke…?" All you say was utter his name under your breath.

"If it’s not too much for you," he started, having a tint of red painted on his cheeks, "I’d like to ask you out. Maybe we can try out dating to see how things go."

Yaku’s breath hitched when seeing the most beautiful smile that he’d ever seen before on her face.

"Okay!"

After the confession, the both of you kept your relationship in secrete til you were official. It only lasted at least two weeks before Kuro pointed out how Yaku was practically sticking to you like glue.

You both announced your relationship ONLY to the third-years during summer camp. (Kenma and Fukunaga found out way before Kuro.)

Yamamoto and the first-years found out during the Spring Tournament that could send them to nationals.

It was their match against Nohebi did the others found out.

Alisa Haiba, Lev’s older sister was standing next to you, cheering on Nekoma with you. Alongside with Yamamoto’s sister who was in charge of the cheer team: Akane.

"Do your best, Lyovochka!~" Alisa cheered on her younger brother making the said brother light up at his elder sister’s cheering.

Akane was intrigued by the nickname, Alisa happily explained it was because that he is just very adorable in her eyes since he’s younger.

You came to understand as well since Lev is as innocent as can be. And he is such a sweetheart towards you when you need help.

When seeing your boyfriend perfectly receive the spike from the opposing team, you were the next to cheer him on.

"Nice receive, Morisuke-kun!~" Your cheering was heard by him and the team.

They turned to spot their manager in the stands, wearing a jersey similar to Yaku’s. (The coaches gave you a day off since you a test during the match. But you still wanted to see your favourite team and libero.) Seeing the display made Nekoma’s starting libero turn into a tomato.

"You’re dating?!" Yamamoto and Lev asked in unison towards the shorter upperclassman.

Yaku merely yelled at them to concentrate on the game, "Yeah, the rest of the team knew way longer before," as Kenma mentioned the gap in time. The second-year and first-year gave Yaku offended looks that he never announced his relationship to them.

During that match, you were worried when seeing Yaku appear from entourage with a limp. Without thinking, you immediately jumped in to help him.

"Damn it…Why now…?! I was always being careful…And it had to happen…!" He cursed, you and Yamamoto helped him get towards the bench.

You tried to reassure him, "Don’t worry, Mori. You did great," your boyfriend was placed near the coach’s bench to be assessed by you.

You told them that it’s not a big issue. Yaku was lucky that he only mildly twisted his ankle. It’ll take at least a week or so for him to recover.

With Shibuyama taking Yaku’s place in the game. The team secured their spot to head to nationals thanks to the libero’s teamwork with Lev.

The young couple embraced each other in joy at the news, "See? I told you everything was going to be fine!" You smiled.

"God…I love you," he unknowingly said, before laughing at your flushed face. You lectured him on not saying such things out of the blue.

"You could say…you both are a match made in heaven?" Teased Kuro, joining the duo on the bench to help Yaku line up wit the rest of the players.

The third-year snapped back, "Shut up, Kuro! Let me have my moment with my girlfriend for once!" You only laughed with Kai before they went to line up.

How time flies when you’re with loved ones.

Final exams were completed and school is almost finished. You applied for a University degree of physical therapy. Some of your friends applied for colleges or already went to finding a job.

Most of your friends in the volleyball club had either continued a profession in the sport or went their separate ways in life. To which you were happy for all of them!

You were the most happy that Yaku was given the opportunity to continue his profession in Volleyball in the country of Russia. The team was called Tigr Ekaterinburg. It was in the Volleyball Super League.

Yaku was thrilled too, but the problem was the long distance. He’d have to go to other side of the world to continue a sport he loved. But be away from someone he loves more.

"I just don’t want you to think that I’m leaving you for my career…" he explained, adding in the fact that there might be a chance he might not come back as often to Japan as he hoped.

You smiled, holding his cheek, "Morisuke. I’m okay with it," you told him. Trying to comfort him, And plus, who says you’re going alone?" A smirk could be seen forming on your face.

He looked at you, perplexed for a moments before grinning, "You’re coming, too?!" He asked before hugging you, tackling you on your mattress, "Aw! Babe! That’s amazing!"

With a smile you rubbed his back affectionately, "Mhm. I’m mostly almost finished with my degree. All that’s left is one more trimester for me. And it’s not up until next year."

Your boyfriend of a year and a half started to run around your room, "We need to start packing!" You cackled, telling him you still have time to pack.

Those were the last moments of 2013 for you.

For a year, you stayed in Russia with Yaku. The two of you kept in touch with your friends back I. Japan and telling them about your experiences in the foreign country.

By early 2014, you had to leave since your trimester in your university degree was right around the corner and you needed to land back in Japan early.

Of course, your boyfriend was sad, but he was happy that you spent time with him before you left. "Make sure to call me as soon as you land, okay? If I don’t pick up, I will give you permission to blow up my phone with text messages." His small "order" made you smile but agree.

As you landed back in Japan, you and Yaku started your long distance relationship. During his seasons, you would try to either call him frequently or come visit him when you had time.

And when he’s off season, he flies to Japan to come see you. It has been on and off for 7 years. Yaku has officially been a starting member for the Tigr Ekaterinburg Volleyball Team in the Russian League.

Right before he had to leave for another season, in November of 2019. Yaku Morisuke went down on one knee in front of you to ask for your hand in marriage.

"It’s been a total of 7 years since I was blessed with being with you." He started as you had started crying. "And I’m sorry for being so late, I should’ve asked you years ago before I had left for Russia."

You covered your mouth with one hand as held the other in his hand, "I am honoured to be called boyfriend. But I would us to move forward together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So," he said your name, a few tears spilling over his face, "Would do my the honour of being my wife?"

The moment those words left his mouth, you lunged at him, happily yelling a "Yes!" A few times as he shakily slid the ring on your finger.

He brought you close to close the distance between you two, "Took me long enough, huh?" He joked as you laughed, your foreheads stuck together.

His family, with yours congratulated on your proposal and Yaku on him getting into the Russian Volleyball League. His family sent a few video calls and videos you sent to him with your family joining in. (He and your families had known of your relationship during the last few months your third-year.)

It was March 2021, and the Russian Volleyball League had started.

Yaku had been a rising star in Russia ever since he joined the team. He loved his profession, the new sightings of the country. It was everything he wanted.

But all that was left was your support. Of course, he knew you were watching. But he wished you were physically there.

As he took a break in between the sets of his match, he noticed a banner being projected on the camera, "Go! Go! Yaku Morisuke!"

The libero gasped in shock to see his family in the stands that were specially designed for family, friends or loved ones. They were cheering him on and surprising him of flying in just before his season ended.

What shocked him the most was to see his fiancée and her family together with his. You wore his jersey with the No. 18.

The camera panned to you, to show the wonderful family that is supporting the rising star. You didn’t understand what the commentators were saying. But you waved at the screens and soon showed the special banner you made to cheer your boyfriend on.

That was all he needed to finish his game.

When he was asked in an interview of how he was able to pull such an amazing play despite it being his last game for the Russian League and his season before he goes back to Japan. He simply replied in Russian with, "My family and the love of my life with her family were there cheering for me. There’s no way I would have ever missed such an important play when they’re watching."

By the end of March, articles came flying from all over starting from Russia when hearing that the famous Yaku Morisuke has a partner.

Later on in the year of 2021. Japan had recruited Yaku to be on the Japan National Volleyball team.

To say you were estatic for him was understatement since you were also recruited to be the team’s physical therapist.

You reunited with familiar faces of, Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio from Karasuno. Bokuto Kotarou from Fukurodani Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi of Shiratorizawa and other players from the High School Spring Tournament.

Iwaizumi Hajime, who is the team’s athletic trainer was also a staff member of the team. You and him had become great friends since you were all familiar with each other back in high school. It helped a lot when working together on keeping the athletes in shape.

As the Olympics had begun, you were seen with Iwaizumi, keeping an eye on the players since you were part of three staff.

You wore Yaku’s number, no. 17 with the staff tag you were gifted by the organization. To say your fiancé was happy was an understatement. (He was was over the moon!)

Before the year of 2022, you finally earned the surname "Yaku". He even joked saying that you’ll have to call him either by his given name or by a pet name. Since you’re too used to call him by his last name.

The wedding was in Japan in order to get all of your friends and family gathered together under one roof to celebrate the greatest day of your lives.

And is that all you have to say?

The messy blond haired man gave a confused look at the interviewer, "Of course not." He chuckled, waving the person off before giving a sweet look at his wife, "Our lives had just begun. We just decided to take the long route."

The person sitting across from the couple chucked lightly before writing down his answer, "I see. And are you returning to Russia for another season, Mr. Yaku? Fans from the country have been asking for you."

Hearing that question made the professional Volleyball player laugh, "Yeah. They’re not the only ones asking me if I’m coming back. My teammates and friends that I made back in Russia have been asking me as well." The 27 year old replied.

"But, unfortunately…everyone’s going to have to wait til I’m finished with my business in Japan before I return." Yaku said before looking in the camera.

"l’m going to be a father to an amazing son. So you’ll all have to wait for me a bit longer," he announced to the viewers, tenderly holding his wife’s hand that had the beautiful diamond ring on her finger.

You chuckled, rubbing your stomach, "it’s only been 4 months, Mori. I thought we said we’d tell them at the sixth month mark."

He apologized by kissing your hand, "Sorry, love. But they would’ve known since your stomach will be more noticeable."

The interviewer congratulated the couple before finishing up the interview. "Well that concludes of the interview. Thank you, Mr. And Mrs Yaku for accepting our invitation.”

"You are welcome. I hope this will answer everyone’s burning questions about my personal life." Your husband gave a curt bow to the interviewer with you.

Articule by the Japan’s National Sports Association

Yaku Morisuke’s Relationship status

One of the best liberos of all time in the current generation is married?! Who knew!? Russian and Japanese fans with those from all over the world have been going into a frenzy over the topic! With the addition of him being a future father of two children.

To say the least, that the public did not expect this outcome.

"A match made in heaven."

Is what the fans have been saying. They are pleased with the outcome. Happy for their favourite libero.

#Spotify #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #yaku morisuke #nekoma #yaku morisuke x reader #japan #anime and manga #volleyball #fanfic #love #story

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plexiglasssheets · 1 year ago

Text

Pine-ing part 1

EDIT Prebook of book of bill so ermmmm

Fuck it fiddauthor fic probably will multi part | Cross posted on Ao3

PT 2 ================================

1982 Dec 17,

F was having somewhat reasonable holiday with drawls. His family away, I could sympathize with him. It had been a long time since I've sat with my family for anything. A homed cooked meal became a distant taste, as my cooking skills are mediocre to non existent. It being a Saturday it seemed reasonable to go into the town for a meal. We went to the diner that he loves, he said their bacon and syrup pair together like no other.

I take his word for it, as odd food combinations were never my thing, Stanley used to do something similar wit-

He went to walk around the town, but I couldn't just drive back home and leave him in the snowy town. I never liked walking about but the trip seemed to be doing F well so what's an hour or so walking around.

There was a library but I combed through that my first month here, to little interest. There was a coffee shop but it was far too populated to give any sense of relax. But then I found it, a book shop.

Empty, Dusty and may have smelled of dead cat. It was fantastic. The lights were old with that nice yellow glow, flickering and loud. The shelves were a dark wood and dusty beyond belief, perhaps a walnut, wood was never my thing. The back was practically made for me, hand written accounts and journals, ecological studies and records that were the only copies.

To say I was excited was an understatement. The cashier was a fine looking young gentleman, most likely my age. He seemed kind enough so I thought nothing of it when he watch me move around the shop. With the state of the shop I can safely assume that he doesn't get many costumers.

I went to purchase my books, and the worker was very friendly. The first person here that shared my intrigue with it oddities. Complementing my book choices no less.

Then F walked in, he had two coffees and his satchel seemed bigger so safe to assume he bought other things. But there was a look to his face the same one he gives me when I talk to my muse for 'too long' in his words. I always took it as him being perhaps unsure of the greater power. I was never good at reading emotions, but have I mistaken his jealously? It would seem so if I knew what there was to be jealous about.

But the coffee he brought me was perfect. The way I love in, black coffee, no sugar, no creamer. Me and F left after I put my books in my own bag.

The cashier asked for my phone number to discuss books later, which I don't have as my equipment interferes with any telephone lines so I had to decline. I would have said I be back but I'd be lying if did, as me and F's schedule wouldn't fit a whole other escapade to town.

I would have explained but F seemed to want to leave so I politely declined.

We made way back to my truck and started to drive up the long rode to my cabin. Another moment I was grateful for the coffee. As my car absorbs what ever weather is outside and triples it.

Bitter caffeine as a hand warm what could be better. I would have played my favorite CD of eurythmics, but F was never a fan. Recently buying me an ABBA's singles when he went to the grocery store last month for that very reason. He was idlily tapping to the music, but he seemed off.

He was upset.

I was never one for emotions or feelings. I was always the logic, that's what I was good at. I can solve equations the length of a room but can't figure out how to ask a frie what upset him. We were a few minutes from my place, I was internally fighting if I should speak, but I understood people enough to know I Should, just I didn't know what exactly to say.

I asked him what he got. Great start, he's engaged and if he doesn't want to talk he doesn't have to. Perfect.

A present for his son.

Shit.

He got divorced last year, as she wanted him to be with them. I didn't know much, its was just messy. He missed his son, not so his wife but it was a touchy subject.

I forgot most enjoy time with family.

Family hasn't been the same for a while so sending holiday letters sufficed any familial need. Meeting F at collage, he is the only other person who hasn't cared about my freakishness, that I'm ever grateful for him. And I can't help but feel guilty about his family problems. He wouldn't have left if I didn't ask. The more to value his companionship.

He asked about my own purchases, and told him. The journals, the record reports, the primary historical recounts. An utter drug to my brain, he seemed to be engaged till I mentioned the book seller.

Off put? Upset? He wasn't happy. Bitter? Maybe, but I suppose that mixed with his family business upset him. But I didn't know how to ask. 'hey F why are you so upset about a bookseller?'

Stupid, I know, but easy to ignore.

We pulled into the drive way and rushed inside and hung our frosted coats. It was my turn to make dinner, F went off to his room to read like he does. But unlike usual he came down while I was still cooking. He seemed less upset which was good, he sat at the table and watch me cook as he read a book.

I was no chef, so I felt so- observed. It was no different then when we worked, me doing a tasks as he read. But this felt, intimate? for lack of better word. The dim kitchen light blub that was in desperate need of a change flickered its orange hue that filled that small room.

It was a Friday, so it was so it was excusable for the two of us to have a beer or two while we watch trash television the living room. F hated them but I had a soft spot for them as they were what plagued the tv set my mother had.

We barely watched the show and more added our own commentary, We cracked much needed dumb jokes in the tv lit room. Its blue filter light our only sources to see.

F had his glasses off, and was sat next to me on the couch.

It felt right.

A feeling that felt long distance that he only seemed to bring.

Its no mystery that girls were a mystery to me. Relationships felt so unnecessary, and I dance around the thought of the alterative. Which- I don't think I'll go into now.

He commented something about some 3? maybe for 4 dramatized way relationship that was going on. His dead seriousness made it possible to not laugh out. Holding my stomach and bending over, sides hurting. One of those that aren't funny but still somehow are.

That night was nice. It was a good refresher, I bid him good night and headed to bed myself. Sleep was different, usually I'm so exhausted I pass out, but tonight I just couldn't. My thoughts were somewhere else.

#gravity falls #gravity falls headcanons #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #old man mcgucket #fiddauthor #bill cipher #mentioned #fiddauthor headcanons #Maybe a part two? who know #I''m not a gravity falls author and have read like 2 fics so this is a learning process #pining #get it?#ahaha

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forensicated · 2 days ago

Text

05x35 - Only A Bit Of Thieving

Ted arrives at an address and notes that a panel on the front door has been broken and covered up with a thin piece of wood. He introduces himself to the house owner, Mrs Power. She is confused by his arrival as she's already spoken to an officer about her recent break-in. She thought she was safe as she had all the - at that time - mod cons and non-electric security features available to secure the house. She's now very paranoid as she and her husband moved from their last home due to a burglary. Her husband is away on business, so she's home alone. Ted tells her there has been a spate of burglaries in the area. There is a pattern that shows the burglars return soon after to take what they missed. Ted asks if she has a room that overlooks the back garden, she tells him she has a sewing room on the top floor that does and agrees for them to use it for an obbo.

Ken has a three-day secondment with CID and is very excited because he doesn't see himself ending his days in uniform. [Oh, Kenneth 😪]. He's very excited to stake out the house with Ted, despite Alistair's claim of there being no available overtime. Ted has told Ken that he will get them overtime, so Ken is waiting for him. "The wily old pole cat! He sleeps, you keep watch, and he gets paid for it! How does he do it?!" Alistair exclaims. Alistair and Ted declare the first two rules of CID. 1 - from Ted - know your angles. 2 - from Alistair - don't believe anything that comes from Ted! Ted confirms that, through telling a 'minor untruth,' he's managed to get 4 hours of overtime approved by Brownlow.

At the house, Ted tells Mrs Power that they'll let themselves out of the house when they're done and won't disturb her so she can go to bed as normal. Ted smokes whilst Ken keeps watch, telling him that he can see right into other people's houses with the night sight. "Dirty minded berk!" "Not like that!" Ken asks how Ted managed to swing the overtime, and all he replies is 'politics'. Ken asks again and we get the third rule of CID. "Ask no questions, you get told no lies" He pauses before smirking that Ken was right about seeing right into people's houses. Who was it with the dirty mind?

The night sight allows them to spot three dodgy-looking teens creeping into the garden and taking a ladder. They approach the house and climb onto a flat roof, and start to break in. Ken and Ted leave the house and creep into the garden to see what they're doing. Ken is told to stay out of sight whilst Ted climbs the ladder to disturb the criminals as they break in. Ted warns them to keep still and then shouts to Ken to get the van. Two edge to the side of the roof, whilst one that Ted tackles brings out a knife and threatens to cut him. Ted asks him to give him the knife. The kid contemplates jumping off, but Ted tells him not to as it's too high. Moments later, there's the sound of a scuffle and the lad falls to the ground with a scream. Ken checks on him and shouts for Ted. Ted tells him to call an ambulance.

Uniform arrive and arrest the other two suspects whilst the paramedics load the injured lad into the ambulance. Bob tells Ken to go to the hospital with the injured lad as he's technically a prisoner. "I can feel it already..." Tony tells the uniformed officers. "Nasty...."

Mrs Power feels sorry for the lad, but Ted is unmoved. "He shouldn't have been up there, should he?!" Christine enters without knocking and tells Ted to follow her. Ted charms Mrs Power and thanks her for everything, but Christine cuts in with "Now!" She tells him the lad was only 14. "Old enough to go out stealing!" insists Ted. Christine demands a full report from him for what happened and tells him she'll be getting one from Ken too, and she'll know if he's intimidated Ken.

At Sun Hill, the other two teens are overwhelmed as they're led into a loud and chaotic Custody. Claire and Tony call the boys' parents and inform them of their arrests and that they need appropriate adults. One of the dads, Mr Wilson, Is furious that he's been woken in the middle of the night and is even more angry to be asked if he knew where his son was. Bob tells him his son he is being charged with attempted burglary. "Didn't get inside, didn't have a chance because of that poxy copper!" Paul then alleges that Ted pushed his friend from the roof.

Bob orders Ken to return to Sun Hill after replacing him at St Hughes. He asks Claire to bring Ken straight to his office and to not let him talk to anyone, especially anyone from CID. Upstairs, Ted is writing his statement and has a call from Christine to go down to her office. Ken returns and goes straight to the Duty Sergeant's office whilst Ted signs his statement and heads down to Christine's office. Their paths do not cross.

Bob asks Ken to tell him exactly what happened, without the aid of his notes. Ken admits that he was in the garden, but he couldn't see what was happening on the roof from where he was. Bob asks him if he realises how serious it is, because it could mean Ted being up for attempted murder. Ken repeats that he was on the ground and couldn't see it. Bob calls it convenient(?!?!) He then suggests that in the 5-10 minutes before the ambulance arrived that Ken and Ted 'compared stories.' If he didn't see it it is the kid's word against his. "You don't have to cover up for him!" It's obvious he's trying to break him to get to the truth and Ken is visibly upset.

Ted hands Christine his statement and she asks if it "displays his usual use of imagination". Considering their past, she's really harsh on Ted and calls Brownlow in. Ted thinks it can wait, but Christine doesn't - especially as CIB are going to be involved.

In an interview room, June recaps Paul's statement, which details Ted moving toward his friend in a threatening manner and his arm being thrown out before his friend fell. She asks him to sign the statement and he hesitates. June asks him if he doesn't agree with the statement and his father tells her that he can't read or write. June tells him to put a cross against it instead and has his father sign the statement. He asks if his son is going to be prosecuted and June says it's up to the juvenile department and the inspector and may take several weeks until they know the answer. Tony updates Bob that the injured lad is now in a coma.

CIB arrive the next day and are greeted by Alec, who leads them to their office for the day.

Ted packs up his things into a briefcase. It's difficult to get the pics to show everything, but the essentials are there: a newspaper, scotch and aspirin.

Derek tells him off for causing aggravation over a juvenile thief. His bollocking is very unlike a Brownlow one as it's obvious he very much has his back and has knowledge of him as a person rather than a pawn in the station. Ted, being Ted, is very defensive and points out that he is there to arrest criminals, no matter who or what they are.

"I hope for your sake CIB sees it the same way!"

The father of Ted's accuser enters the station and asks to see the boss. He refuses to tell Claire what it's about and demands to see Bob. Alec tells Bob that Ken is getting a right grilling from CIB. Bob reveals the hidden biscuits....

... and tells Alec he has no faith in CIB making the right decision. "You know who and what I mean." He suspects that Ken is going to end up as the loser. "If they put Ken off being a copper, they're not doing anyone any favours." "You've got to admit he's a bit soft sometimes." Bob sums up that Ken is 'dead honest' which won't make him a lot of friends in the long run.

Claire brings Mr Wilson some tea and tells him that Bob has been delayed. He tells her to shove the tea because 'he wants to make a complaint.' Paul looks unsure and wants to leave, but Wilson shouts at him to shut up twice. Bob finally makes it over and tells him that he needs to see the Chief Inspector and CIB, and as CIB are being very thorough, there's no end to the length of time they'll have to wait. Paul looks very uncomfortable and clearly doesn't want to be there. Bob tells him that anything that is found to be untrue will add a charge of perjury to his offences. Wilson snaps that that's a threat and Bob tells him it's a warning and asks Paul again if he's sure. He clarifies that whatever is said has serious consequences for either him or Ted. Wilson accuses him again of threatening his son. Paul looks very uncomfortable and tells Bob that his friend is a nutter and jumped of his own accord. "I'll have you for this!" Wilson snaps at Bob.

At the end of the day, Derek arranges for CIB to be seen out and goes into CID, where Ted is unpacking his suitcase. "Any comments?" "He'd never have made it stick." Ted shrugs. Derek advises him to fork out for a few pints for Bob to thank him for what he did. He tells him he's been very lucky considering his record and how close he came to suspension. "Just get back to your duties."

In CAD, Alec takes a telephone call and tells the caller that he's very sorry to hear that. He goes up to CID and has to tell Ted that the boy has died from a haemorrhage. "I'm sorry, Ted." "What are you looking at me for? Don't go on about it. It wasn't my fault!" Ted says - but his face says a different story.

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kharmii · 11 months ago

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not sure if you have noticed but there is someone in the submas tag whacking the beehive with some mean sounding posts and honestly I think it's hilarious and I'm all in for it.

The fandom bullies need to be pushed off their high horses and brought back to reality that they are just some rude bullies on the internet harrassing people for having a different opinion on fictional characters

And honestly the person is also right: they are frustrated because Ingo in LA took a lot of the shine off the original cast of the game. It is a tragedy he's there but it's also a shame the other cast gets sidelined so much.

And the fandom makes it difficult for others to enjoy the content. It's basically that bird meme with the crow being submas fandom being so obnoxious and loud the other part of the LA fandom gets totally overshadowed.

And I say this as a submas fan. I love the twins a lot. But the fandom is on the brink of becoming unbearable. At least the loud annoying obnoxious part, I actually think the "unpopular" side is much more calm, chill and friendly. And much less in your face.

The fandom needs to get down off their high horse and become a more calm fandom again.

I didn't get along with either side of the fandom, and truth be told, I think a lot of them are the same group of cowards and hypocrites playing politics. This fandom is smaller than I thought. Recently, someone on the crazytrain tag inadvertently let me in on the spice Twitter of one of the very first antis who blocked me. The twitter has 'Proshitters DNI' on their pinned post, (hurr durr durr, get it? Pro SHITTERS. How cleever..) and yet the whole blog is full of fat furries with top surgery scars. FOR SURE that person has a blankshipping side blog FOR SURE.

Side note: I'm into men, but Rule 63 isn't bad if the female version is hot. There's nothing grosser, however, than seeing a male character made into a fat gross furry with top surgery scars and a vagina. IDC about your trans representation. That's GROSS. IDG why trans is such a prevalent social contagion when it's represented in a way that makes me throw up in my mouth a lil like, ..ew..ew..ew..ew..EWWW!!1!1 Why would you wreck him like that?!

Nobody on earth wants to see that shit unless they are into that specific fetish. I doubt even trans males want to see that shit. Hey, you want to be a real male, right? That's the ideal right? Then represent yourself as an actual male and not a gross looking morbidly obese mutilated biological female with a rank dog's head. Fandom is supposed to be escapism, so spare me your harsh, repulsive reality.

Anyway, not only does that person have a side blog, but I'll bet they were on the blankshipping tag putting the most stupid of stupidest head canons out there, like 'RICH WIDOW OMEGAVERSE INGO, YO!!' Where Omega Ingo is yeeted to Hisui, and everybody assumes his alpha (his own brother) is dead because his werewolf bite mark is fading. Everybody in Hisui is pressuring him into choosing a new mate so he can crank out a litter of ass-puppies from his bunge-womb and save Hisuian society from a population crash (Omegaverse totally isn't dog-fucking, but like all the terminology is dog-related).

Almost everybody in the blankshipping tag was into Omegaverse or general werewolf bullshit, so don't even act like you don't know what I'm referencing unless you joined this fandom last week. Other than that, it was annoying when people would use their autism to be obnoxiously antisocial (I only want 'likes' or conversations in tags), or like when people had an issue with me reposting slim beautiful bishounen twins from Asian artists off Pixiv or Twitter. People have been doing that since Tumblr began, -there are entire blogs devoted to it- and yet it only became a problem when I started doing it.

*checks* I think I found the blog this ask was referencing. It's a fun blog because it gets people talking. That and Emmet month has the fanart picking up. My drafts are packed. There's a lot I disagree with though, like how Ingo overshadows the other characters and makes them less relevant. Actually, people being into the Train Twins might make the PLA characters MORE relevant. PLA might have been a forgettable game to some people, but love for submas angst made the other characters grow on them.

Also, they complain that the PLA tags on AO3 are either full of Train Clown fics or Volo x underaged Akari. In the absence of the twins, Volo x Akari would be the ONLY thing you'd see on AO3. You'd probably see even less of the other characters. The Volo betrayal might be the most interesting part of the game for most people. -So many people got taken in by how he pretended to be your friend, tried to get Giratina to kill you, then made you feel sorry for him at the end.

That last part was a guess, btw. I've read very little of both Submas and Volo fan fiction on AO3 outside of the specific ships I'm into, and I've read very little of those too. Most fan fiction comes across as dismal and unpleasant, so I make sure not to read it. That's the responsible thing to do. If you read something in a description you don't like, then don't read it. IE: Not once have I ever clicked on an Omegaverse after holding the bridge of my nose and reading the description of what it is. It's still fun to take the piss though, like....hey maybe people would write more Adaman x Irida -or- Commander Kamado x Beni if there wasn't so much RICH WIDOW INGO MAKES A NEST TO PLANT HIS ASS-PUPPIES INTO11!!1!!!

Art credit: ばた@bataabiiru Twitter.

#send troll prompts #blankshipping #submas #subway bosses #transtrender #volo #commander kamado #beni #ask me about my million stupid bj aus #at least it's not omegaverse #fandumb fail #TWINSTWINSTWINSTWINS #the god emperor of....you know #cyllene #sneasler #alolan vulpix

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steflionheart · 2 years ago

Text

Of Traditions and Mutual Understanding

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Cyno x Alhaitham / Alhaitham x Cyno

Wordcount: 2.884

tags: AU - canon divergent; Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham; pining Cyno; Alhaitham is a bit dense in that department but also pining; soft and fluffy; short-haired Cyno; made-up tradition of cutting your hair when you're in love

based on this brainfart of mine I shared on my second blog the other day

No one noticed it at first.

The General Mahamatra walked past several Scholars, Researchers, and fellow Matra while politely greeting the ones he was acquainted with but still— no one batted an eye as he crossed the Akademiya’s main hall.

However, the moment he stopped beside Shohre at the entrance to the House of Daena and asked her quietly if the Acting Grand Sage was currently present, a soft murmur arose among the people.

One could hear excited whispers here, shy giggles there, and even groans of despair as well as some disapproving scoffs among the crowd. It spread like a wildfire and soon enough even the very last person in the Akademiya’s main hall knew what the fuss was about.

One could also tell that the General Mahamatra was very well aware that this was purely owed to him but he didn’t seem to pay it much mind.

After curtly nodding goodbye and leaving Shohre to her duties again, Cyno soon enough disappeared from the sight of prying eyes as the massive stone platform elevator took him upwards, his destination being the Acting Grand Sage’s office.

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

Alhaitham was lost in paperwork, headphones turned to soundproof for better focus. Therefore, he didn’t notice the General Mahamatra arriving, nor did he hear him greet Panah, who was in the middle of filing away the last records for the day on the opposite side of the office. Both their shifts were about to end and Alhaitham was really looking forward to it, considering that this day has been a mess and a half.

The paperwork had been relentlessly increasing with each day passing, not even mentioning the applications for the position of Grand Sage he had to go through whenever he found the time; usually after finishing a report and before starting with the next.

Chin resting on the knuckles of one hand, he flipped the pages of a report with the other, eyes narrowed and not once leaving the written words on paper. He just wanted to finish this one, so that he could finally call it a day and return back home.

Mind wandering off and contemplating his options for dinner, he shifted his gaze just a tad bit and noticed tan skin out of the corner of his eye. His head immediately snapped up, turquoise meeting ruby as he stared directly at the General Mahamatra.

Something about his appearance seemed off but Alhaitham couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

Cyno’s lips moved and Alhaitham’s eyes were immediately drawn to them, taking up all the focus he had left, so that he didn’t even notice that his earpieces were still turned to soundproof. A moment later, he snapped back to reality, turning the switch on the right earpiece until he could hear Cyno’s voice, loud and clear.

“...port about my latest mission if you have a moment. If you’re busy, I can come by tomorrow again.”

Alhaitham clearly missed the first part of Cyno’s request but understood what he wanted nonetheless.

Mind still stuck on the thought that something was amiss about the General’s looks, he answered rather leisurely.

“Sure. Go… ahead.”

Cyno hesitated briefly, lifting an eyebrow but obviously dismissing his concerns for now.

“The mission went well in general, we caught the culprit and I personally interrogated him. He was uncooperative at first but soon enough told us everything we needed to know. He also revealed that…”

While Cyno was still recounting the events of his recent mission with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest, Alhaitham tried to find whatever it was that’s been bothering him ever since he laid eyes on the General that day. He scanned every inch of Cyno’s body, eyes roaming slowly upwards from his exposed knees, over his firm and muscled thighs until he passed his well-toned stomach and chest, and finally settled on the shiny golden chest piece.

It wasn’t the first time he’s done this considering that the General Mahamatra had the habit of mostly closing his eyes while reporting to the Acting Grand Sage. Alhaitham has had more than one chance to study Cyno’s body during these times, memorizing every single scar, every little mole, and every other minutest detail.

They were all burned into his memory by now.

So it was no wonder that Alhaitham immediately noticed that something was different, he just still hadn’t found the right detail yet.

Gaze tracing the defined shape of Cyno’s shoulders which were usually covered by some strands of his silky white hair, the Acting Grand Sage tried to rack his brains some more while admiring the General’s relaxed face.

Until it finally sank in.

Heart skipping a beat and mind suddenly reeling with questions over questions, Alhaitham wasn’t able to stop his mouth from spilling his next words and therefore, interrupting the General.

“You cut your hair.”

Cyno, who had still been reporting whatever had happened during his mission, froze to the spot right before his mouth snapped shut and his eyes opened. His gaze immediately zeroed in on Alhaitham’s.

The latter was still stunned to silence, partially regretting blurting out his observation just like that but on the other hand, there were still those questions he wanted an answer for.

Alhaitham knew he literally had no right to ask Cyno anything, but he needed to know.

It wasn’t just out of curiosity, it was an unrelenting, even crucial, and desperate need to know the reason for this. He needed to know if Cyno cutting his hair was out of necessity or if it was out of the only other reason people from Sumeru did that to their long hair.

After another few moments of silence, the General Mahamatra finally broke it.

“I did.”

“Why did you do it?”

Alhaitham wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, once again simply babbling out whatever thought had surfaced right at that moment. For a brief second, he even pondered on whether he had accidentally consumed a Forbidden Knowledge Capsule after all. But there were more urgent matters right now.

Cyno shifted slightly, readjusting his crossed arms and tightening them over his chest.

“What if I told you I did it simply because I felt like it?”

“That’s unlike you. You seldom cared about your long hair and only cut the tips to keep it from getting too long to disturb you during battle.”

The General sighed in defeat, clearly not up to deceiving the Acting Grand Sage, before answering.

“Out of tradition.”

Alhaitham took a deep breath in an attempt to soothe his nerves, not sure about how to react to it. On one hand, he’d expected this answer but on the other, he’d hoped for it to be a different one, although not fully understanding why.

His gaze never leaving Cyno’s, he asked yet another question.

“Who?”

And Alhaitham had thought he’d seen all of him, all of Cyno’s reactions, all of his facial expressions— he thought he’d studied him quite well during the time they worked together.

But a blushing Cyno averting his gaze was a completely new sight and Alhaitham didn’t quite know how to read what it made him feel.

It was exciting, exhilarating even, but also completely new and unfamiliar.

“So… you don’t want to reveal who it is? I understand that but why would you cut your hair then and show everyone that you’re not available anymore? Do you not intend to confess to them? Isn’t that the meaning of this tradition after all?”

Cyno’s head snapped back to facing Alhaitham and his eyes were burning bright with a passion Alhaitham had only seen during their fights yet.

“First of all, I would have to make sure that he’s also… interested in me or it wouldn’t make any sense chasing after him. And it would only cause trouble for him if I revealed who it is. Don’t you agree, Acting Grand Sage?”

Alhaitham didn’t know if it was owing to the way Cyno was looking at him, fierce determination clearly written across his face, or if it was the newfound electrifying fervor that had taken over his mind. But it was enough for him to stand up from his chair and walk around his desk until he came to a stop right in front of Cyno, eyes never leaving the other’s as he towered over the smaller man.

“There’s no reason for that man to not be interested in you.”

A brief silence spread between them in which Alhaitham seized the opportunity to take a better look at Cyno’s new haircut. It was unfamiliar seeing that it wasn't even peeking out from under the significant headpiece the General was wearing anymore. Yet, he couldn’t see it properly due to said headpiece and he wondered how he could coax Cyno to take it off.

“What makes you think that?” Cyno interrupted Alhaitham’s train of thought.

“You’re a— how do people call it…” Alhaitham gestured briefly with his right hand, “— ‘A good catch’, I think?”

“Elaborate,” Cyno said after a moment of silence.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Alhaitham obeyed.

“You’re the General Mahamatra, so you’re of high status and also popular among the people of Sumeru. You’re calm and collected— at least most of the time. You have a very good sense of justice— not just due to your position, of course. You’re witty— I personally enjoy your jokes a lot. And you’re also handsome.”

Gesturing moderately, Alhaitham kept stating these facts without thinking much about it, gaze roaming around the wide office while talking.

“I don’t see how anyone would not be interested in you.”

“So, you think my jokes are funny and that I’m handsome?“ Cyno muttered, more to himself than for Alhaitham to hear. Instead, he asked.

“Does that include you?”

Alhaitham’s eyes snapped back to Cyno’s, that bashful, almost shy expression from before on his face again but this time laced with a tinge of insecurity.

Another trait Alhaitham was able to witness from Cyno for the first time that day.

“Of course it does. These were all my very own observations and opinions about you after all.”

“So that means you’re interested in me?”

“I sure am,” Alhaitham answered without hesitating.

Cyno shifted his weight from one foot to the other before asking one more question. Althaitham almost felt as if being interrogated.

“In what kind of way?” Seeing that Alhaitham was knitting his eyebrows in confusion, the General heaved a deep-drawn sigh before adding, “I mean if you’re interested in me just in general or… romantically.”

Alhaitham faltered for the first time in a long time, not sure how to answer this question sincerely. His mind went back to all their past encounters, all the conversations they had, all the times they spent together until now, even back to all the fights they had and how much Cyno had grown on him. Taking all of it into consideration and also adding the newfound happenings from their current meeting, Alhaitham finally came to the only possible conclusion.

“I… I guess I am.”

Cyno’s eyes grew wide with surprise, lighting up and sparkling like rubies in the bright sunlight.

“You… are?”

Feeling his chest pleasantly tightening at how hopeful Cyno’s gaze was, it only confirmed Alhaitham’s statement. And at the same time, it confirmed that he himself was the man Cyno was talking about after all.

Alhaitham was more confident now as he answered.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

He took a step closer towards Cyno, loosening his crossed arms, and reaching for the General’s headpiece.

“May I take it off to get a better look at your haircut?”

Cyno nodded briefly in response, lowering his head as a light pink blush spread on his cheekbones.

Gently and with the utmost caution not to muss up his hair, Alhaitham took the headpiece off and placed it on the stone floor beside them. The moment he looked back up, admiring Cyno’s short hair, Alhaitham noticed that his caution had been for naught. It was sticking up in all directions, chaotic but all the more adorable.

The haircut gave Cyno a whole new flair of savageness, he looked younger and roguish— almost even mischievous but still as intimidating as always, Alhaitham would say.

But on the other hand, it didn’t take away any of his natural beauty and the softness of his features; characteristics the Acting Grand Sage had always adored about the General Mahamatra.

It was new and unfamiliar and yet, Alhaitham was still as captivated by Cyno’s appearance as he’d always been.

Once again, Alhaitham reached out with his right hand, fingers tenderly brushing over soft, sunkissed skin until they found their destination. He ran his fingers through silky strands of white and buried them there at the back of Cyno’s neck. All the while, the General’s eyes were fixed on Alhaitham’s, never leaving them, not even as he blushed once again.

Alhaitham couldn’t get enough of seeing Cyno’s flushed cheeks, the sight of it causing his fingers to tingle with the need to touch, and considering that he wasn’t a man of much patience, he simply went for it.

He extended his left hand, gently cupping Cyno’s face while letting his thumb brush over heated skin. Cyno tensed briefly but soon enough melted into the touch. Alhaitham leaned in a bit closer, turquoise staring into ruby red as he spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“You look beautiful, it really suits you.”

He then pulled back slightly, admiring the sight of the blushing General Mahamtra for another satisfying moment before retreating fully and picking up the headpiece. He handed it to Cyno, who hastily snatched it from his hands and put it back on, just as fast. He pulled it down deep over his face before muttering a quiet “Thank you…”

Alhaitham did his very best to suppress a chuckle at the sight of it, clearing his throat instead before speaking up.

“Do you already have any plans for dinner tonight?”

Cyno took a deep breath before lifting his head, a lopsided smirk on his lips as their gazes met.

“Not yet, no. But I’ve already been considering asking the earlier mentioned man out.”

Alhaitham lifted an eyebrow, carefully eyeing Cyno as he continued talking.

“You know, the one I still need to confess to.”

“Oh, sure. Go ahead then, I’m sure he won’t refuse.”

Alhaitham turned on his heels, making his way back to the wooden chair behind the huge desk, eyes scanning over the pages still scattered across the surface. He picked up the report he was reading before Cyno had entered the office and continued where he’d left off before, explicitly avoiding looking at Cyno in the process.

After all, two could play at this game.

Moments passed, an awkward silence spreading between the two of them, and Alhaitham wasn’t sure how long either of them would still last until eventually Cyno was the one to break the silence.

“Lambad’s Sabz Meat Stew is supposed to be really good from what I heard. A lot of people enjoy eating it there.”

“Hm, true. I’m sure it would be a nice place to eat, no doubt,” Alhaitham stated, still not looking up from the report in his hand. “But I heard there’s a Spice Merchant at the Grand Bazaar that sells really tasty Tahchin, I think his name was Jut. It would also be a nice idea to take some home and enjoy your food there together. It’s definitely a better and more… relaxed location for a confession, in my personal opinion.”

“I have to agree, that sounds indeed like the best option,” Cyno answered.

Eventually, Alhaitham looked up from the report, eyes fixing Cyno with an amused glint in them. He’d decided that it had been enough bantering for now.

“Then, shall we get Tahchin from Jut first and then head over to Lambad’s for a serving of Sabz Meat Stew before going to my house?”

“I have a better idea. I’ll get the food while you finish your work since I’m off duty already and we meet in front of your house after you’re done?”

A soft smile spread on Alhaitham’s lips before he responded.

“That sounds like the perfect deal to me.”

Cyno nodded approvingly.

“Then it’s a deal.”

He hesitated, lowering his head as he was obviously insecure about what to do or say next when Alhaitham decided to take over.

“I’ll meet you later then, my General Mahamatra.”

Cyno’s head snapped back up, eyes wide with surprise and once again that afternoon, a soft pink tinged his cheeks.

Alhaitham wondered for a brief moment how he could’ve lived without the sight of it until now. He eventually came to the conclusion to challenge himself, making Cyno blush as often as possible, considering that it was his new favorite trait about him.

Cyno smiled softly as he answered.

“I’ll meet you later then, my Acting Grand Sage.”

Alhaitham nodded briefly, smiling to himself as he focused back on the report in his hand, now more than ever determined to finish it as soon as possible.

But not without sneaking one last glance at the General Mahamatra walking off to the stone platform elevator in the middle of the office.

The new haircut really suited him, Alhaitham thought.

#genshin impact #haino #cytham #alhaitham #cyno #genshin alhaitham #genshin cyno #soft and fluffy #blushing cyno is my new favorite #Alhaitham exploring and realizing his feelings is just ugh #I love them a normal amount #genshin fanfic #fanfic writing #steflionheart #steflionheartwrites

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