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scryarchives · 1 month

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OMG i just taught of this in my head its alright if ya dont wanna write it but NANAMI AS A FATHER HEADCANON cuz like man will be dedicsted to making sure his child has a goos life (and not be like gojo)

my masterlist !

✭ pairings: platonic - dad!nanami x daughter!reader

✭ warning: nanami's probably out of character, pure fluff, fem!reader

✭ word count: 1.2k words

HII OH MY GOSH, thank you for the ask!! okay so this is my first ever hc request and I ABSOLUTELY ADORE the idea of this!! I hardly ever write 'x reader' content, but I really might just start doing it for the platonic reqs! I really do think Nanamin would be the best dad ever, but Gojo would definitely be a great parent too considering that he does believe that children should be allowed to be happy without having their childhood taken away! Anyway, I've yapped enough, here are the Dad!Nanami Headcanons! Enjoy!

𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 | 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Dad!Nanami who:

✧ Raised the baby left on his doorstep, crying and swaddled in cloth with her heartbreaking screams of hunger and lack of love filled his ears. ✧ Instantly checked on her condition, considering the baby’s cries, he couldn’t tell if perhaps she was injured. ✧ Once he figured out she was fine, he instantly rushed to the store with the baby in his arms, rushing through each aisle to hunt for baby food. ✧ Bought the food the moment he spotted it, adjusting her in his hold as he quickly paid for it, sitting on the ground outside to open the food and feed the starving child. ✧ Softens the moment he hears her cries stop, her big eyes staring up at him intently with her remaining tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. ✧ Smiles a little the moment he sees how quickly she devours the baby food, showing how hungry she really is. ✧ Thought maybe parenthood isn’t as bad as it seems.

✧ Feels pride bubble up in his chest the moment she begins to walk, her smile wide as she wobbles towards him, his arms wide open as he speaks to her with soft encouragement, “That’s it, step by step.” ✧ Scoops her up into a big hug the moment she’s a few inches away from her, her little giggles of amusement bringing her so much joy. ✧ Doesn’t mind doodling silly little things with her, scribbling down on a paper whatever she asks, as long as it’s after work hours, despite his urge to bend the rules for his little girl. ✧ Brings her to work as long as he’s not on a mission (because really, who in the right mind would put such a precious being in harm’s way?), just to make sure that she’s safe and sound. At least she’s with him, and he can keep an eye on her. ✧ Knows he can trust his baby girl with Gojo’s students when he needs to go on a mission, and never Gojo, even if Fushiguro did turn out the way he did under Gojo’s care. ✧ Would make the three teens promise not to let Gojo within a five-foot radius of his little daughter because he knows it would mean nothing but trouble (who knows what really goes on behind those blindfolded, blank eyes.) ✧ Is nothing but touched to see how the three students cared for his little girl so carefully, seeing her resting on Itadori’s chest as they sleep on the couch with the hushed noises of children’s cartoons in the background from the TV. ✧ Tucks her away before gently placing a warm blanket over the three students who he clearly cared for (he’s never explicitly said so, but they all know it). He’s nothing short of grateful for their help babysitting the precious little girl in his life, and he sees her as his own, not caring for the fact that she was just left on his doorstep. He can’t wait to see her grow.

✧ Tears up a little behind his glasses as he drops her off for her first day at preschool, his face stoic as ever as he wonders where all the time went as he watches her skip off to class, waving goodbye to him. ✧ Wishes that time would slow down just for a while so he could read her bedtime stories and notice the tiny things she does to try and make his day easier. Always his little helper, she was. ✧ Can’t wait to pick her up, packing up fifteen minutes earlier from work just to collect her on time, turning to Gojo with a glare as the white-haired man smirks, entertained to see his junior so caring and paternal. ✧ Arrives at her preschool just a minute early, waiting at the school’s gates as he hears the bell ring, the cheers of other kids rushing out like water from a broken dam. His eyes immediately rush to find her tiny figure, and he bends down, recognising the top of her head through the sea of children. ✧ Listens to every little thing she tells him, from what she saw in the class to the friends she made – even the tiny ants she saw at the playground during recess. ✧ Smiles the moment he sees the drawing she did in class of a poorly-drawn him and herself (he doesn’t mind it one bit), just proud to have been involved in her growth. ✧ Frames the drawing instantly, and though it’s a little big, it sits on his bedside table, right next to his wristwatch and glasses. ✧ Has no hesitation to put aside whatever housework the moment she asks for help with homework – math specifically. ✧ Is as patient as he can be, explaining the basics clearer for his precious daughter to understand, helping her with the first bit before letting her try it out on her own. He’s positively glowing with pride when he checks through her homework, finding it all done correctly. ✧ Ruffles her hair as she grins with a laugh as he gives her his rare words of encouragement, “Great work, kiddo.” ✧ Sees her with a gold star sticker her homework the next day as she runs to him after school, her maths worksheet waving in the air as she jumps into his arms. ✧ Is nothing but satisfied to see her beaming with pride at her efforts, and relieved to know that he’s doing a good job so far.

✧ Finds himself stuck, struggling to explain where her mother is as she peers curiously up at him, his daughter now up to his hip. ✧ She’s grown again, and her increased height followed her curiosity as she asked more questions, and noticed more things – well in this case, the lack thereof. ✧ He simply replied with a, “It’s always been you and I.” Relief fills him the moment he sees a nod in understanding, but the thought keeps him awake at night. Eventually, he’ll have to explain, it’s always the hardest thing to find out how to do it. ✧ Finds out why she asked as he spots a little worksheet on her desk, his brown eyes widening as he recognises it as a family tree. ✧ Two of the slots are filled, but the rest remain blank, and he feels nothing but pity, a sigh escaping him as he picks up the sheet of paper. ✧ Plans to tell his daughter everything that night, preparing her favourite dishes and desserts, but his nerves are getting to him, resulting in a tense silence as he sits at the dining table, waiting for her to finish her shower. ✧ Notices the moment passes as she sits down, digging into her meal as he clears his throat, finally finding it in him to speak. ✧ Watches every twitch of her eyelid as she blinks, waiting for some sort of reaction from her, hoping that she’d take it well. He’s not sure of what he’d do if it all went south. ✧ Is silent by the end of the explanation, waiting, gauging for her voice to say something, but all he can see are her big eyes staring at him. ✧ Is caught off guard when she says, “I don’t need any other family, because I have you, Dad. I don’t care if I’m adopted or not, you’ll always be my dad.” ✧ Feels his eyes water, his arms spreading open to pull her into a hug. It’s uncharacteristic of him, but for her, he wouldn’t care. She’s his daughter, his little girl, not bound by blood but by bond. ✧ Would want nothing more than to hold her in his arms, wishing to protect her from every little bit of harm because that’s what you do with things you adore, with the things you treasure – and she’s everything to him, his baby girl.

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki @sad-darksoul @yunymphs @cindol @rrairey @cheriiyaya @yurislotusgarden @kesshavx

< comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

#sam writes !#💌 sam’s inbox !#dad!nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami jjk #dad!nanami x daughter!reader #platonic!nanami #dad!kento nanami #kento nanami #jujutus kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #dad nanami kento #nanamin #kento nanami would be an amazing dad #adopted!reader #headcanons

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astrok1dz · 2 years

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Glass Half Full (Edward Nashton x GN!Reader)

Part Three

A/n: THIS ONES SHORTER BUT i literally will not stop repeating how kind you guys have been to me ily

TW: descriptive mentions of being followed/harassed, beating, blood mentions, slight mention of weapons, hits at mayor being murdered

It was Halloween night, and, not to your knowledge, but your silly crush just happened to be the Riddler himself.

What’s more, an unhealthy obsession began blooming on his side, although he didn’t really think “unhealthy”, or any other negative adjectives were fitting words for such a wonderful being as you.

Your shift had been the most terrifying yet. All your coworkers at the Iceberg Lounge, very probably partying, and you left to take care of the raggedy kiosk.

The day wasn’t personally lovely for you.

You’d left your home late at night to go to the store, as you noticed the usual gangs, hanging around the blocks and corners, watching.

Gotham was filled with them, obviously, but you couldn’t be too calm when you saw them following out of the corner of your eye.

Horrified, you speed-walked, eventually ending up running once you passed the block.

You took off the not-meant-to-run-in shoes you had on and ran as fast as you could, under the rain until you reached the back door of the store, which you quickly unlocked, fumbling with your keys.

You burst through it and locked it behind you, calmer now. Quickly, you tried miserably to dry your clothes and body and change into your uniform apron, and some little Halloween themed accessories. No one was there to scold you over dress codes, after all!

— — — — —

He couldn’t believe this. Partly, recognising Gotham’s most disgusting side, he could, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that they targeted you.

Killing the mayor was easy enough, and he had to let out the anger coursing through his veins, in his boiling blood, in some way.

He figured if he had to destress he might murder the gang that followed you already, and kill two birds with one stone.

His ego was ahead of him though. He couldn’t take a gang of five or more people.

He could and did take some good ass-whoopin’. It’s not like he hadn’t faced this before all through his childhood and teenage years.

He heard the thuds rhythmically hit him again and again, punctuated with the pain in his stomach and every single muscle in his body.

Like a saint, you appeared in his mind, reaching out to him, beaming light, cooing softly.

It was okay.

If it was to protect you, it was okay.

— — — — —

The buzzing of the blueish-white LED tube lights filled the store, with the occasional cling of the bells of the front door which opened, thankfully, only to reveal adults buying booze or children asking for candy.

They’d always been so pure. How’d they grow up in such a messed up place and be happy anyways, you loved that about them. Of course, that came with the types of privileges they had, and not out of saint-like behaviour, but out of pure empathy, you wished for the same happy ending as the kids who weren’t as privileged.

Of course you bought your own bags of candy to gift them, you just had to. You would have free candy afterwards and earn smiles, saving since money from your job, the store, and a scold from your boss.

As you counted and saved some dollars you couldn’t help but notice an envelope, tucked away neatly between the bucks.

SHIT.

You started counting the money in it and checking it all on your mental registry, blurry between anxious thoughts.

Had someone broken in? Did someone steal something? Shit shit fuck. Thank God i wasn’t there but my luck couldn’t be worse. Ohmygod and my boss will kill me and-

Wait.

There’s no money missing.

Did this person just. Put this here and leave?

You read the scribbly letters on the envelope.

“To Beauty”

It had taken Edward a shit ton of courage. Not to pick on the lock of the little rackety cash register, but to write those words on the envelope.

He knew perfectly well if you were smart enough to remember him, that you would be perfectly clever enough to know what he meant.

Just as he expected, all of that crossed your mind. Earning a few kicks in the air, a few jumps and hand flapping to get over your silly giggles and enormous blush on your face.

As a sweet crowd of kids came into the store, the smallest girl smiled at you cheekily, and the rest cooed at you asking about your so said ‘crush’, their parents giving you a knowing grin.

“Do you have a crush sir?”, one of the kids asked, on his tip toes and clinging to the edge of the counter.

“Oh I do have one! He is the most handsome guy ever!”, you cheered. The parents laughed and the children went “Ooooooooh”.

One of the slightly older girls in particular leaned onto the counter, innocently asking;

“And do you guys…”- she cut off in a whisper for the next word.

“…kiss?”

As all the children icked and acted out their disgust, their parents payed for some candy as they teased for them to leave you alone, apologising with their eyes, apologies cut short by yet again the ring of the bell.

You looked up to a bloody, beaten Edward on a baggy green jacket, walking stupidly through the doorway, looking down, shaking.

You choked a gasp as you thought of what might have happened to him. The adults looked around in panic as you advised them to go to safer areas. Trying to end the customer interaction you turned to the children.

“That’s the handsome boy I was talking about kids! He’s just- Uh… Dressed up as a zombie! If you come again you might see him again!”, you gave them a wink as they giggled.

“Happy Halloween!”, you said as they exited.

Immediately you almost leaped from your spot behind the counter, running to Edward, a thousand questions shooting out your mouth.

“Smart guy? You okay? Shit you’re bloody all over. Did you get jumped? Smart guy?”

“M’said I’m handsome…?”, he mumbled.

“Not the time!”, you yelped, stressed.

As you sat him down on the nearest and cleanest aisles, leaving his little envelope on the floor as you looked for alcohol and wipes for every type of wound you might find.

Something about you helped the hot blood on his body settle and chill, making of him the tranquil guy you met weeks ago, the one you, maybe too soon, loved.

He winced as he saw the first-aid kit you had made in some minutes as you told him the products were on you. You would have to see him to help heal him, physically to begin with, and God this would be awkward.

You both knew now it would be a long Halloween night.

— — — — —

Taglist:

@glitterycheesecakegladiator @cedricshecrt @phantomofthecathedral

#dano riddler #dano!riddler #danonation #edward nashton #oneshot #paul dano #paul dano riddler #riddler x reader #the riddler fanart #the batman riddler

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taruruchi · 8 months

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Take A Break!

[ SUMMARY ] Beach Event Vignette I・II (scroll down for the "groovy" picture too <3)

[ GENRE ] Fluffy and silly

[ NOTES ] They're just being silly for 90% of this. I originally had another idea for the picture but I couldn't achieve because 1 I'm unable to 2 Screaming and 3 It didn't match where the story went. I mean I could've made it so it fit but it's too late to talk about that

Taruchi: Now, my idea: You stop thinking about that for a while…

Taruchi: And you magic us so we can breathe underwater! Yay!

Azul: …What?

Taruchi: C’mon, take a break! The sea is right there!

Azul: How do you expect me to make us able to breathe underwater?

Taruchi: Easy. Your unique magic. To be honest, the writer isn’t sure if you actually can do that, but now you can for the plot’s sake.

Azul: Wh-What are you on about? Who is “the writer” and what plot?

Azul: Well… Anyway. I can do that, but what are you going to give up as collateral?

Taruchi: You’re gonna destroy the contract right after, right?

Azul: …Yes.

Taruchi: Why did you pause?!

Azul: Apologies, force of habit. Of course I’ll destroy it, not to worry.

Taruchi: Good. Then I’m giving up Ramshackle.

Azul: A bit deja vu-inducing, no?

Azul: It’s a deal. Now, just sign here.

(scribbling noises)

Taruchi: If you don’t destroy the contract, I hope you know that I’ll start living in Mostro Lounge and I’m gonna steal all the food.

Azul: Noted.

Taruchi: Okay, let’s go! Just keep the paper in my book or something.

(splashing)

Azul: Taruchi, wait!

Taruchi: I can’t believe I’m actually breathing? Underwater? So cool!

Taruchi: And the sea is just as pretty as I remember…

Azul: Hmm…

Taruchi: What’s wrong?

Azul: It feels strange to be swimming as a human.

Taruchi: Then this is weird for both of us.

Taruchi: But legit, everything is so pretty… I can’t imagine what it must be like living in the Coral Sea.

Azul: You’ve already been there, remember?

Taruchi: Ohh… Haha, I forgot about the time you tried to scam us and almost made me and Grim homeless.

Azul: I…

Taruchi: I’m kidding, I’m not still mad about that. But I will still use it against you.

Azul: *sigh* I suppose I deserve it.

Taruchi: *gasp* There are so many fish! They’re so colorful! And Nemo’s here!

Azul: Who is Nemo?

Taruchi: You need to watch Finding Nemo. And Finding Dory and Shark Tale. You’re missing out.

Azul: I assume those are movies from where you’re from.

Taruchi: Yessir! I have a feeling you’d have a lot to say while watching them.

Taruchi: Wait. Can you talk to other sea creatures?

Azul: No. I assure you, I am not a “Disney princess.”

Taruchi: Aww…

Azul: Now, didn’t you want to explore the ocean?

Taruchi: Yeah?

Azul: Take my hand. Unless you wouldn’t be able to keep up and would rather stay here?

Taruchi: Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t explore with or without you holding my hand, Ashengrotto. I don’t need someone to pull me along.

Azul: If you say so. *swims away*

Taruchi: No, wait, please! I want to hold your hand!

Taruchi: There are even more pretty fish here! It’s like they’re putting on some sort of performance.

Taruchi: Wh— They just made a heart! I’m so convinced they rehearsed this like in The Little Mermaid.

Azul: Maybe they did. Perhaps there was someone behind all this.

Taruchi: Maybe… Wait a minute.

Taruchi: Did you plan this?

Azul: You're welcome.

Taruchi: Awww, booo. That’s so over-the-top, and it’s terribly corny...

Taruchi: But it’s so cute. Thank you, I love it.

Azul: And you thought I was only thinking about business.

Taruchi: Breaking news: Azul Ashengrotto can be a romantic?

Azul: Sometimes. I wouldn’t want to steal your job.

Taruchi: Hold on. Does this mean you CAN speak fish?

Azul: We have animal linguistics for a reason.

Taruchi: I can’t wait to learn how to speak glub glub. Communication through bubbles, for real...

Taruchi: Oh, ask the fish if they ever feel thirsty!

Azul: Perhaps you shouldn’t learn how to talk to fish.

#☆ taruchi's writings ✍️#I'll post the picture individually too bc I wanna say stuff #+ some people might not see since it's under the cut #☆ 💙

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dickbutt21 · 1 year

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Four Eyes (The Arcana Fanpoem)

I know a lot about my brother

I know that he got grey eyes and I got blue

I saw him picking at his eyes Pulling down the skin like a stocking

Flicking his eye

He stares at the ocean a lot He says he misses the seals

Those salt filmed furry tubs I nod He’s silly We have people again And he certainly takes advantage of it Yapping endlessly to the other sailors

They chuckle their pirate laughs And he chuckles too, imitating them I know he’s tall but everyone knows that He’s been bumping into the sides of the doorway

Knocking over his own books and scribbles

Maz says I’m lucky to not have his handwriting Even if I can’t write anything other then my own name I know he wears glasses

I know he needs them, but doesn’t wear them I caught him once, folding the spectacles over his eyes and off of them He folded them behind his back And told me that blood was thick He spit in his hand offering it to me and I shook it That was a while ago He shares more spit with the other sailors now He tells me what they speak of That they sing drunken tales and let him drink from their flasks He brings me a half stolen flask to share We giggled, behind the crates where the grains were stored

Red rimmed speaking parrots to the west Gold and sapphire earrings to the east North is where we’re from He says the sailors won’t say anything other then bad brandy But south, south is special He says there’s somewhere beautiful there With deep brown sand and thick wirey tree roots And pineapples that never go out of season That they just walk from tree to tree when they’re done growing He giggles That’s what they say anyways He thinks that pineapples with walking legs are funny Which they are, I don’t know why he thought they were serious

They’re telling you kiddie tales I say No, I swear they’re real! You just don’t get it because you’re not old enough to be a real sailor I am a real sailor, you goose! You’re barely 8! Turned 9 last spring! We don’t even know that! Well, when spring’s past I’m a year older Fine, but you’re not double digits yet That don’t mean anything!

Yeah-huh it does! Nuh-uh! I’m a real sailor when I say so cause I’ve always been on this ship! Yeah but you’re not mature

Am too! Are not!

Am too! Are not! As time moves on I know more and less about him I know he doesn’t go to sleep until late Cause he’s too old to sleep early with me I know he smells weird when he comes back Bad, like warm sea water And no good brandy But I know he’ll never skip his lunch with me Cause I slip him an extra slice of bread into the soup And he asks me about what I’m looking forward to most When we land in the next port

I know when he’s scared

I know he picks at his skin when he’s scared

And he always comes back with pimples And he cries at the red spots

Because he’s growing on up

And his friends now think he’s annoying

#the arcana #julian the arcana #portia the arcana #portia I wanted this to be more about you but I digress #julian devorak #has overrided my senses #the arcana fanpoem #fanpoems #gabe is going insane about his sisters again

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peachcitt · 1 year

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hey 💕 just wanted to say that I'll finally convinced one of my mutuals to read metamorphosis and i'm so excited to see them experience it.

And it just reminded me how in a way metamorphosis will always mark such a period in my life and like idk it feels special that it pinpoints such a time in my life when a lot was going on and I'll always remember those changes and new experiences because it was framed around the time of metamorphosis.

It's honestly one of my favourite fics ever and just reminds me why I love fanfic so much. Like metamorphosis for me is the epitome of what I want in fanfic; if someone asked me "okay but why do you read fanfic I don't get it" I'd point them to metamorphosis. THIS is why people read fanfic, this is how amazing fics can be this level of quality is why people are obsessed. It just feels like a masterpiece to me it makes me feel so much and just gives me everything I could ever want. Too tired to properly explain it but yeah I just think metamorphosis is the perfect example for writing that will make you feel so much and destroy you and make you squeal and scream at the characters and want to shake their shoulders but also hold them softly in your arms and tell them that they are enough to not be so hard on themselves. @anna-scribbles gets adrien on such a personal/deep level and from reading this it's so clear how perfectly you write him as well. Your Adrien is so human and real and complex and in character; I read metamorphosis and I feel like I'm in his head that you have managed to captured his existence effortlessly. Idk I'm just obsessed with your writing of adrien in metamorphosis as I think many others are and I think you're one of my favourite writers of adrien ever in fics.

I'm also obsessed with all the other fics I've read of yours (unfortunately have not read them all cos you've written so many omg like a crazy number it's insane how have you managed to write so many and each so wonderful I'm sure??!) the ladrien fic this summer that was such fun to read; also chrysalis broke me and was also just so true; the fic about the whole plan for Mari's first real kiss they're so silly and I adore them so much and the one where they're drunk and do the quiz to see if they fall in love at the end I love your humourous fics so much and they are both so dear to my heart and now I want to go reread them right this second and there's also so many more I could mention but then I'd be here for days.

Also your playlist for metamorphosis I love it so much I should go listen to it again I found so many songs I really loved that I mightn't have otherwise you have such good time one that stands out to me is music by Armors/Olen (did they change their name or something what's the story there) listened to DOA cos I liked their music so much and it's a new fave

Anyways wishing you all the best and yeah just so glad you've been so kind to share your brilliant work with us. Thanks for bringing so much joy into my life and enjoyment to all of us during metamorphosis summer 💕

thank you!!!!! i think metamorphosis also came at such a transitional period for me, and so it’s nice to think that my fic that’s all about moving on and moving forward was able to convey that sentiment to others.

and also yeah. according to anna i get adrien adrien agreste “to such a degree.” he’s my weird little boy

and thank you!! i put a lot of work and thought into my fics (even the silly ones) and so i love hearing when people love them

also im so glad i was able to help you find new music especially (!!!) olen/armors. (and yes there is a story behind the name change basically olen is the lead singer and his other bandmates gradually left the band and this summer olen finally decided to make the change and use his own name. i support him fully although it does make me sad. he’s working on new music)

thank you so much for all your kind words and thoughts and im honestly so thankful to have people like you reading my fics<3

#allineedisabook 18 #metamorphosis #me while shaking: i have such normal thoughts about olen and armors i am a normal fan i love him a normal amount #i make every olen song about lovesquare so that i can indoctrinate people into loving my silly little indie artist

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #lan qiren #original characters #my fic #my fics #children's day #some untamed elements

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed!

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face. The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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spacexcowgirl · 3 years

Text

All About The Chase - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending,

A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.

The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.

Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.

Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.

A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.

Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.

As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.

Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.

A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.

Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.

“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.

“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.

Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.

“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.

Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.

“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back.

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it.

“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”

“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.

“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.

“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.

“You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.

“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.

“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”

“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.

Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”

Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.

“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”

Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly.

“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”

“Well, if you’re offering—”

“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”

Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips.

Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.

It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.

To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.

It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.

“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”

“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”

Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.

“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.

Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.

“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.

“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.

“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”

Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.

When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.

Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.

Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.

“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.

“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”

At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.

“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”

“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”

Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes.

“But, you’re missing dinner…”

“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”

While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.

“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”

Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side.

They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.

Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.

They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.

Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.

“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.

“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”

“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”

“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.

“And who’s she?”

“Glinda, the good witch.”

“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress

“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”

“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her.

“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.

“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.

At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”

“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”

It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.

“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”

“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.

Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.

The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.

“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.

The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.

“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”

Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.

“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.

Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.

When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl.

“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.

“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”

Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.

After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.

Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.

Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”

And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.

A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.

“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.

“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.

“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.

“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.

“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”

“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.

“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”

Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.

“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”

Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.

“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”

Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.

“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”

And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.

When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.

“Hello, love—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”

Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.

“I don’t know what—”

“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”

After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”

“But—”

“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”

“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”

“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”

Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.

“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”

In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.

“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”

“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically.

“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.

“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”

The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.

When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.

Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.

Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #Fred Weasley fanfic

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ticklishfiend · 3 years

Text

Princess (My Hero Academia)

Ships : Lee!Jirou/Ler!Momo

A/N : OKAY!! ITS FINALLY UP!! i’m sorry it took so long lol tumblr was being a lesbophobic hoe 🙄‼️ anyways if it’s still messed up idk what to tell u LMAO i tried 😩 but tysm anons for the prompts!! i love this ship with my whole heart lol <33

Summary : Jirou is desperate for Momo’s attention, and once she finally gets it, she’s not sure if she loves it or hates it (jk they both know the answer to that lol)

Word Count : 1621 (sorry it’s so short!!)

REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

“Momoooo,” Jirou whined, flopping herself down on the pillows next to her girlfriend, who seemed to be lost in a book instead of paying attention to her girlfriend in need. When Momo didn’t respond to her whines, only smirking slightly at the girl’s fussing, Jirou groaned, flipping her body over and dramatically stuffing her face into her pillow.

“Momoo, pleeease,” her gripes were muffled into the fabric of the pretty pink pillowcase, but Momo heard it nonetheless, sighing as she closed her book to finally peer at her girlfriend, who was honestly still mid-tantrum.

“Please what, princess?” Momo smiled as she heard Jirou gasp at the pet name, the violet haired teen whipping her head up to glare at her girlfriend (though the blush on her cheeks did little to intimidate the girl). Momo grinned. “I know you like being called that, stop pretending.”

“Attention?” the raven-haired girl finished for her, finally sitting her book down on her nightstand much to Jirou’s pleasure. Momo opened up the arm closest to Jirou, inviting her into her space. “Y’know, you shouldn’t whine to get what you want.”

Jirou beamed at the invitation, quickly snuggling herself into her girlfriend’s loving warmth before she could change her mind. “I knowww, but I just really wanted you right now,” Jirou sighed in content as they adjusted their positions for comfort. Momo prompted to lay them both down with their heads against the pillows, Jirou facing Momo’s body with the raven haired girl’s face to snuggle into Jirou’s neck. Momo’s arms were wrapped protectively around Jirou’s waist, pulling her in as close as she could go as if to claim her even with no one around.

Jirou sighed happily as Momo pressed a light kiss to her jaw, the musical teen even subtly stretching her neck out a little further to invite the girl into the vulnerable and sensitive space. Momo just smiled, kissing up the girl’s jaw, her lips travelling closer and closer to Jirou’s ears with every loving peck. Momo didn’t miss the pretty little goosebumps that appeared on the girl’s pale expanse of skin, Jirou even shuddering slightly when Momo would press her lips to particularly sensitive areas along her neck.

“I know it’s kinda weird but...god, I love your neck,” Momo sighed, going in to kiss at the neck with more purpose now that her love for it was out in the open (as if Jirou didn’t know already). Jirou couldn’t help the way her shoulders slowly scrunched upwards instinctually, the corners of her mouth curving up into a bared teeth smile. Momo just pressed forth despite the scrunching, even nuzzling her nose into the skin causing jirou to just barely gasp. “No no no, don’t try hiding it from me now.”

“But it tickles!” Jirou whined, squirming in her girlfriend’s hold as if annoyed by the situation (which they both knew couldn’t be farther from the truth, Jirou was a sucker for almost all kinds of Momo’s attention, and her girlfriend knew it all too well).

Momo just chuckled, nibbling into her neck playfully, eliciting little squeals from the girl pressed closely into her chest. “Oh c’mon, I know you love this,” Momo muffled into the girls neck before continuing her ticklish nibbles, even travelling up far enough to nibble at the space where her earlobes met her earphone jacks. Jirou broke into a crumble of high-pitched giggles and squeaks, her legs kicking softly at the sheets. “Aww, look at you baby, you’re so ticklish~”

“Quhuhit!” Jirou fussed, her hands coming up to push at bat at Momo’s chest area right under her neck, but purposefully not hard enough to truly push the girl away.

While continuing her little feast on the girl’s sensitive neck, Momo started pinching playfully along Jirou’s side. Jirou squealed, curling up into herself as much as she could in their cuddled position, her squirming kicking up a notch as Momo’s fingers curled around towards her ticklish back.

“AHAH! Momohoho! Plehe-HEHEASE!” Jirou screamed when she felt Momo’s fingers slip traitorously underneath the fabric of her shirt. Jirou’s hands took to clutching desperately at the front of Momo’s sweater, laughing gleefully and freely as her girlfriend continued to tickle her silly.

“Please what?” Momo teased with a smile, delighted when she got no further protests from the girl. She couldn't get enough of Jirou’s giggles and squeaks, almost wishing she herself had Jirou’s quirk just so she could hear those beautiful sounds with a heightened sensitivity. No matter, though. She could get easily more giggles out of her little princess with ease. “Hold on, I wanna try something.”

Momo ceased her tickling momentarily to adjust her position. Jirou breathed heavily underneath her with a bright smile on her face, trace giggles still slipping without her meaning to let them. Momo took to straddling the girl, gently taking her hands and placing them under knees with no protests. She looked up to her girlfriend’s face, more than pleased to find the girl had taken to blushing furiously, her eyes averting away from Momo’s as to not embarrass herself even further. “Goodness, you’re adorable,” Momo sighed with a smile, delighted when she saw a wobbly smile creep onto her girl’s face. Momo let her fingers slip teasingly underneath Jirou’s shirt, the girl gasping, her tummy jolting slightly at the sudden sensation. “The safeword is ‘grapefruit,’ okay, princess?” Momo tilted her head, smiling when she received a quick nod from her girlfriend pinned beneath her happily. “I know you like to protest, so I thought it’d be a good idea,” Momo hummed before finally, finally, lightly scribbling her nails all around Jirou’s quivering tummy.

Jirou melted into her giggles, succumbing to the goofy sensations and allowing herself to just feel good, despite how torturously on fire all of her nerves were at the moment. Momo’s fingers tickled at the underside of the girl’s sides, a spot she knew would get Jirou pleading in no time.

“Ohohoho nohoho! Wahahahit! Momohoho!” Jirou’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut as she barely kicked behind Momo, her hands clenching tightly under her girlfriend’s knees. Momo kept one hand on the girl’s sensitive side, her other travelling towards Jirou’s belly button. She circled around the navel teasingly, beaming at the panicked look on Jirou’s blushed face. “Nononono! Nohot thehere! It’s sohohoho bad thehere!” Jirou pleaded, her belly bouncing through her giggles.

“Aww, you too sensitive, princess? Too ticklish to take it?” Momo teased, dipping her finger into the little button and swirling it around. Jirou squealed loudly, arching her back at the sensations before flopping back down on the bed, squirming around vigorously and pleading all the while. Momo took note of how their safeword had yet to be uttered. “I’m barely touching you, sweetheart. Are you suuuure it tickles that bad?”

“YEHEHES! IT DOHOHOES! PLEHEHEASE!” Jirou begged, screaming when she felt a mischievous thumb dig and massage circles into the sides of her tummy. “NAHAHA! NOHOHOT THAHAHAT! PLEHEHEHASE, MOMOHOHO!”

“Whatsa matter, baby? Is your tummy ticklish? Your tummy a really bad spot?” Momo loved teasing her girl like this, she absolutely adored the blush it would paint all over Jirou’s cute little face. She loved the way it made her squirm around, made her plead even though they both knew she loved every last ounce of it.

“NAHAHAHA! I CAHAHAN’T!” Jirou babbled, throwing her head back against the pillows in ticklish mirth. Momo chuckled before finally taking it easy on her baby, slowing her hands down to trace evil little shapes into the girls sensitive sides. Jirou wiggled and squirmed, still giggling helplessly from the sensations.

“Ehehehe! Momohoho!” Jirou squeezed her eyes shut tight during her giggles, like she was trying to shield her vision from the teasing smirk Momo wore every time she tickled her to pieces. “Thihis tickles wohohohorse!”

“Aw, does it really?” Momo cooed genuinely, not even trying to tease this time around. She was just in serious awe of how adorable her girlfriend could be without even trying. She finally slowed her hands down completely, taking her knees off of the girl’s hands. She rubbed soothingly along Jirou’s bare tummy, the girl still twitching every now and then at the fact her most ticklish spot was still being touched. Jirou placed her hands on top of Momo’s thighs, finally looking up into Momo’s eyes with the utmost love plastered all over her face.

“I love you,” Jirou breathed, giving Momo’s thigh a loving squeeze. Momo felt like she could melt, right here, right now, in this exact moment, and she would be perfect with that. Momo continued her soothing rub along one of Jirous sides, moving her other hand up to squeeze onto Jirou’s hand lovingly.

“I love you too, princess,” Momo smiled at the little flustered falter Jirou’s eyebrows gave at the nickname. “So, so much.”

Momo leaned down to cup Jirou’s face with her hand, kissing her softly but with purpose. They kissed for a while, before finally pulling away and snuggling back into one another.

“Thank you,” Jirou muffled into Momo’s chest, curling up into the girl’s warmth. Momo just chuckled, petting at the girl’s head just the way she knew she loved it.

“Of course, love,” Momo kissed the top of her head as they both began dozing off into the most comfortable and warm sleep they’d had in a while.

. . .

A/N : sorry this was so short!! i didn't expect it to take this long to fucking upload so i didn't work rlly hard on it LMAOO but i hope u enjoyed nonetheless haha, much love!! <33

#tickling #my fic #tickle community #tickle fic #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #momojirou #momojiro #momo yaoyorozu #jirou kyouka #kyoka jiro #wlw #anime tickle #anime tickles #anime tickling #mha tickles #mha tickling

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

Text

tickletober day 3/nope: spooked

am i doing tickletober now? absolutely not. did i have thoughts about wizards stimming that folded neatly into this tickletober list? maybe

---

Getting close to Essek, Caleb is finding, is something akin to the puzzle of a trapped room.

(Veth has offered him her remaining vial of rhino sex potion as a solution. Personally, he thinks that thieves’ tools might be more helpful.)

First comes acquiring a cup of tea, which grants him the right to Essek’s favorite reading spot on the corner of their sofa - conveniently, also the location of the only side table in the near vicinity. Essek will shuffle over to let him squeeze in, occasionally nosing into his beverage like a curious cat to steal a sip as recompense. Then, it is a waiting game; he sits very, very still, hardly daring to flip a page of his own book, until Essek forgets that he is a person and not a sofa arm and leans back into him with a content little hum.

If his own experience with the Nein is any indication, Essek will become accustomed to casual physical contact eventually. He will stop flinching instinctively away when their shoulders bump in the kitchen, will not blush a dangerously dark plum and go entirely quiet when Caleb wraps him in his arms and pecks a kiss onto his cheek.

But in the meantime, he is more than willing to undertake the entire process. Because when Essek is distracted and comfortable and excited about what he is reading-

Caleb surfaces from his book just in time to hear Essek roll a quiet chirp in the back of his throat, rocking from side to side on crossed legs with a happy little wiggle of his shoulders, and in that moment he swears that he can feel an entire summer’s worth of lazy warmth and contentment burst in his chest.

He loves Essek so fiercely in those little moments of unobserved personality, loves every scrap of him that he tries to bury beneath mantles and prestige - he cannot help doing some happy flailing of his own, flapping his hand excitedly in time with Essek’s rocking.

The pen that he has been taking notes with falls off his book as he shifts, clattering to fhe floor. Essek startles, clearly spooked, and goes rigid as he twists around.

Mist. Essek looks the scene over, just the tips of his ears quivering in clearn embarrassment. “Ah. My apologies, I must have been-”

He reaches to steady him, stopping just short of Essek’s arm as he flinches away. “There is nothing to apologize for, schatz.”

Essek just shakes his head and turns back to his book - he settles himself intentionally against Caleb’s shoulder now, but there’s an obvious stiffness to his spine, a cautious air of studiousness as his eyes start to flick across dense text.

...well, there are other ways to solve a puzzle. Caleb huffs and worms his hand between Essek and the back of the sofa, scribbling his fingers into the softness of his waist.

The surprised laugh Essek lets out as he crumples into himself is much higher pitched than his chirping, but hardly less satisfying. “Nngh-” he gasps, and then, after a particularly tortured wriggle - “hehe! - Caleb!”

He presses one slim hand to his mouth, trying to contain himself, but from the way he starts to rock again, squeaking at every movement of Caleb’s hand, it seems far from working. Caleb starts walking his fingertips carefully up the tips of his ribs, offering a sympathizing hum as he shrieks in protest, and finds himself rewarded with a lapful of giggling drow.

He raises his hands and wiggles them above Essek’s belly, threatening a proper tickle. Essek shrieks again and tries to hide his entire body behind the book he has apparently elected to use as a shield.

“No, no! Caleb!” he yelps, a nervous grin stretching across his face. It is entirely adorable - Caleb laughs despite himself, reaching instead to pinch lightly at the rounded apple of Essek’s cheek.

It purples under his touch, but Essek remains bravely in his lap despite the sudden tension in his frame. “What-” He coughs out another giggle, holding out a preventative hand as he catches his breath. “What did I do?”

It feels a little silly, now - Caleb feels himself blushing too, trying to find the words for it. “You looked like you were happy,” he says finally. “And then you tried to apologize for it, and I did not want to let you.”

Essek sighs, but he’s nearly smiling again as he adjusts his position to a more comfortable lounge. “If you’re intent on being distracted,” he sniffs, “I might as well just sit here. The light is better, anyways.”

It really is. Caleb puts particular effort into committing the way Essek’s earrings sparkle in the afternoon sunlight as he nestles into his chest to memory.

“Natürlich,” he grins, and settles happily in.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #chocfic #tickletober2021 #i definitely stim but i've never written about it before so please tell me if i'm doing something wrong!

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sleepdeprivedsloth · 3 years

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Gonna Getcha

[Haikyuu - Atsumu, Osamu]

summary: Atsumu notices that Osamu is stressing out and suggests that they play a game to help brighten his mood. Of course, Osamu doesn’t really have a say in the matter, he knows that he’ll end up laughing whether he agrees to play or not. (platonic Miya twins tickle fic)

potential warnings: swearing, tickling

words: 1.8 k

a/n: for those of you who haven’t watched s4 yet, don’t worry there are no spoilers! on a more serious note, please don’t romantically ship these two. i hate that i feel the need to say this, but this is purely just siblings tickling each other for fun. anyways! please enjoy everyone <3

Osamu leaned back in his desk chair, staring at the English worksheet in front of him. He let out a small grunt of frustration and closed his eyes, taking a quick mental break.

The Miya twins had gotten back home from volleyball practice a bit earlier than usual because their coach wanted the team to focus on studying for their upcoming exams. Osamu was trying to make good use of this generously-given free time by working on homework. On the other hand, Atsumu planned to use his free time to lounge around and get some “much needed” relaxation.

Resting on the top bunk bed in the twins’ shared room, Atsumu was mindlessly scrolling through his phone when he heard Osamu’s grunting. He glanced up towards his brother and saw that he looked absolutely exhausted with his head tilted back and a slight crease occupying the space in between his eyebrows.

Osamu must have felt Atsumu’s piercing stare because not so long after he closed them, his eyes snapped back open. He abruptly swiveled his chair around and locked eyes with Atsumu, offering his own stare in return. “Why are ya creepily staring at me like that?”

The blonde-haired twin simply ignored the question, choosing instead to ask one of his own. “Ya look seriously stressed out, man. Wanna play a game?”

Osamu breaks eye contact as he sighs, turning back around to continue working. “No dumbass. Can’t ya see I’m busy?”

Once more disregarding the question thrown at him, Atsumu pondered aloud, “Hey Samu, ya know what game we haven’t played in forever?”

Deciding to humor his twin, Osamu hummed out a quick “hmm” in response, prompting Atsumu to continue.

“Gonna Getcha.”

Osamu feels his body immediately stiffen at the name, countless memories of the brothers playing the childish game flashed through his mind. With their parents being away at work so often when the two were younger, they created Gonna Getcha as a fun way to pass the time. It was just like hide and seek, but the stakes were much higher. Once the hider had been found, the seeker would tickle them silly until they tapped out. The mere thought gave Osamu chills.

Atsumu kept his predatory stare on his twin. “Why don’t we play right now? Y’know, for old time’s sake.”

Osamu instantly recognized the tone in Atsumu’s voice. It wasn’t a suggestion or request, it was a warning that he needed to escape while he still could. Turning his head around to look at his brother's face, Osamu saw the dangerously playful glint in his eyes. “What are we, fricking six years old? Grow up, Tsumu, geez.”

Never breaking eye contact, a grin spread across Atsumu’s face as he suddenly started counting down. “Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight…”

The grey-haired twin’s eyes widened. He came to the sad realization that the two were going to play Gonna Getcha, whether Osamu agreed to it or not, but he wasn’t about to waste anymore potential hiding time by haggling with Atsumu.

Practically leaping out of the desk chair, Osamu ran out of their bedroom door, quickly closing it behind him. He raced throughout the house searching for a hiding spot, which was pretty pointless considering the twins both knew this place like the back of their hands.

He ran from room to room, eyes darting around for a somewhat decent place to hide, when he came across the supply closet in the hallway. Internally deciding that it was much better than standing out in the open, Osamu scurried inside, closed the door behind him, and sat down in the cramped space beside the miscellaneous boxes.

Not long after he got situated, Osamu heard their bedroom door burst open with Atsumu louding calling out, “I’m gonna getcha!” Footsteps could be faintly heard going in and out of different rooms, accompanied with the occasional “Gonna getcha!” tease. Osamu honestly felt like he was six years old again, giddily waiting for Atsumu to find him.

When Atsumu’s footsteps sounded close to his hiding spot, Osamu froze and held his breath. The footsteps came and passed, going off in the direction of the kitchen.

After waiting until he couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore, Osamu quickly got to his feet, planning to make a run for it back to the bedroom. Atsumu would never think to look back in there, right? Slowly opening the closet door, Osamu cringed slightly at the soft creaking before peeking his head out. Once assured that the coast was clear, Osamu stepped out and dashed to their bedroom with a victorious smile on his lips.

He stopped short and his smile immediately fell when he saw a certain blonde waiting for him, lazily leaning against the doorway with a confident smirk. Grey eyes met brown for a brief moment before Osamu turned around and attempted to bolt away. Unfortunately for him, Atsumu quickly launched himself forward, shouting out, “Gonna getcha!”

The two tumbled down to the floor. Osamu was left lying flat on his stomach as Atsumu straddled his back. Quickly recovering from the fall, the grey-haired brother tried to fight back and push his twin off of him, but his arms could reach back far enough.

Laughing at Osamu’s fruitless struggles, Atsumu teased, “I gotcha!”

Osamu gave up on physically fighting back and went limp against the floor. “Get offa me, Tsumu, yer fat ass is crushing me!”

“Hmm.. no. How about I do this?” Atsumu set his fingers over Osamu’s shirt and scribbled them into his sides. Osamu’s body jerked as if he had been electrocuted, and started shaking his head back and forth as short chuckles spilled out of his mouth. Knowing that verbal teasing had wonderous effects on his brother, Atsumu decided to be a little shit, gasping in fake shock. “Oh no way! Is this tickling ya, Samu?”

Osamu’s struggling started up again at the taunting words. “Y-yohou knohohow ihit dohoes! Stohop!”

“How would I have known that yer this ticklish? I woulda never guessed!”

“Yohohou ahahare suhuch an asshohohole!” Osamu’s laughter became louder as Atsumu switched his scribbling to spontaneously jabbing. “Ihihihi’m gohohohonna kihihihill youhuhuhu!!”

Atsumu ignored the giggle-filled threat, instead choosing to take the tickling a step further. “Huh, I wonder where yer death spot is… that one spot that will make you go absolutely crazy with laughter.” Atsumu slipped his hands underneath Osamu’s loose shirt, wiggling closer to his brother’s stomach. Obviously, he already knew where Osamu’s death spot was, but it was so much more fun when he got to see how his teasing made his twin squirm. “Why don’t ya just tell me where it is?”

Osamu shrieked when Atsumu went under his thin layer of protection and brushed his fingers against his bare skin. He grabbed at his hair to ground himself as he felt the torturous hands traveling closer and closer to his sensitive stomach. “Yohohohou ahahahahalready knohohow whehehere ihit ihis, yahahaha fuhuhuhuhucking shihihihit!!”

“What foul language! I just wish to hear my dearest brother laugh.” Atsumu wiggled his fingers to get them underneath Osamu so that they were squished in between the floor and his stomach. Once in position, he paused his fluttering fingers. “Ya ready?”

Osamu giggled and twitched in anticipation, “Dohohon’t doho ihihit!!”

“Do what?” Atsumu smirked knowingly.

In his panic, Osamu missed the obvious trap and shouted out, “Tihihickle mehe thehere!”

“Well since ya asked so nicely~” Atsumu curled his fingers and vibrated them deep into Osamu’s stomach, knowing from many childhood tickle fights that he could never stand this method.

Loud bouts of laughter were forcefully released from Osamu, his mouth open in a face-splitting smile. “TSUHUHUHUHUMU NOHOHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Ahh yes, beautiful laughter,” Atsumu playfully teased. “That seriously has to be my favorite sound to ever exist. Mind if I record it and set it as my ringtone?”

Osamu could barely hear the taunts through his booming laughs. In a desperate plan to stop the tickling, he gathered as much strength as he could and rolled onto his back so that he was facing upwards. With his hands now free to move about, Osamu quickly grabbed at Atsumu’s wrists and pushed them away from his quivering belly.

While his twin was catching his breath, Atsumu looked down upon him with a wicked grin. He easily shook his wrists out of Osamu’s weak hold and in turn grabbed onto his brother’s hands, pulling them slightly off to the sides. “Thanks for the help, Samu. I was wondering how I was gonna get ya to turn over. Now I have all the room I need to do this…”

Osamu’s eyes quickly darted towards Atsumu just in time to see him start to slowly lower his head towards Osamu’s bare and unguarded stomach. From far too many ticklish experiences, he instantly knew what Atsumu’s intentions were, and he mentally cursed himself making the situation ten times worse by revealing his belly. The only choice he had now was to plead and pray that his brother would give him mercy. Hopefully the universe was on his side today. “NO! Nohot that, anythihing but that! Tsumu plehehease!!”

Unfortunately, the universe didn’t offer much help. As Atsumu’s head grew closer and closer, Osamu sucked in his belly as much as he could, knowing that he was only momentarily preventing the inevitable.

The moment Atsumu’s lips met his sensitive skin and blew the dreaded raspberry, Osamu howled with laughter. He could feel his muscles jiggling around from the vibrations, tickling him both inside and out. He tried to curl up and yank his hands out of his brother’s strong grasp, but it was all in vain. “NAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAP! TSUHUHUHUHUHUMU STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

The blonde lifted his head for a quick breath. “Ya know what I wanna hear, Samu!” Atsumu exclaimed before pressing his lips back down into Osamu’s belly. When his brother’s back arched and he felt knees begin to bump into his back, Atsumu chuckled fondly into Osamu’s stomach, only intensifying the ticklish sensations.

Tears of joy started to gather around the corners of Osamu’s eyes. When he felt Atsumu’s mouth move closer to his belly button, he desperately called out, “PLEHEHEHEASE, NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!! YOHOHOHOHOU GOHOHOHOHOT MEHEHEHE!!”

After finishing off with one more short raspberry to his brother’s side, Atsumu pulled back and released Osamu’s hands. He watched fondly as Osamu quickly wrapped his arms around his torso with a flushed face and giggles unconsciously pouring out of his beaming smile. Atsumu’s face broke out into a smile of its own at the sight of his twin looking much happier than he had been not even thirty minutes ago. “Ya okay there, Samu? Or has it been so long since we’ve played that ya can’t take it anymore?”

Osamu rested his head against the floor, eyes closed and smiling wide. “Ohoho, I am soho gonna getcha,” he playfully threatened, a trace of the need for revenge in his voice.

a/n: thanks sm for reading !! finally branched myself out into the haikyuu fandom so that’s fun :D but is it just me or does the inarizaki team have a total of like two tickle fics T-T maybe there just isn’t an audience for it?? y’all will have to lmk

#haikyuu #haikyuu tickle #atsumu #miya atsumu #tsumu #osamu #miya osamu #samu #ler!atsumu #lee!osamu #ticklish!osamu #miya twins #platonic #tickling #tickle fic

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: It would be really cool if you could do a library AU! Maybe one of them works at a library and they keep running into each other or something.

I have been unbelievably excited to write this one, I’m so happy I’ve finally got around to it! This is where my mind went as soon as I read the prompt, I really hope you enjoy it! (If anyone wants to suggest a prompt for a part 2 I’d be more than happy to do that once I reopen requests.)

Featuring he/they Willie because I really need to include that headcanon in my writing more often. Willie’s pronouns alternate throughout.

Books on Boards

Usually it was Reggie whose excuses began with “In my defence…”

“In my defence, I couldn’t see where I was going… In my defence, I forgot water and electricity don’t mix… In my defence, if Luke didn’t want to be shot with a Nerf gun then he shouldn’t have been standing in my way…”

Sometimes it was Luke.

“In my defence, no one told me not to… In my defence, I didn’t realise it could go this horribly wrong… In my defence, I did try to do it properly and I don’t know how it blew up…”

On rare occasion, it was Julie.

“In my defence, I was a little lost in my own head… In my defence, I’m terrible at comebacks… In my defence, I have an extremely annoying boyfriend and he was trying to talk to me about our new setlist the whole time which was very distracting…”

But it was never Alex.

Until now.

“In my defence,” Alex began, raising a hand and talking over Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s shouts, “I have to go to the library a lot. I’m an English major and it’s where all the books are!”

“But you don’t need to be at the library for five hours a day,” Luke countered.

Alex sighed. He had a point, and Alex had no excuse this time. Well, that wasn’t strictly true – his excuse was an adorable library assistant who just so happened to be very friendly to Alex and, by some miracle, worked whenever Alex needed to study. But he couldn’t just admit that to his friends, each of whom was staring at him with flat disbelief.

The assistant’s name was Willie and he was simply wonderful. The first time Alex had met him had been right at the start of his first semester – he had never been to the university’s library before and it was bigger than the one at Alexandria, so he was unbelievably lost. Alex had half-convinced himself that he would be stuck there forever, doomed to wander between the shelves looking for the section he needed, eventually becoming a ghost and haunting the place, still trying to locate his books.

Enter Willie. They had scared Alex half to death – in Alex’s defence, he hadn’t expected to be knocked off his feet by someone on a skateboard in the middle of a library the size of Buckingham Palace. And yet, he had landed on the floor, flat on his face and winded, understandably startled. As he scrambled to his feet, he heard his assailant exclaim, “Aw… you dinged my board!”

Alex had started to berate him but stopped in his tracks when he looked at the guy and realised that he had been knocked to the floor by a literal angel. His long dark hair was majestically swept to one side and tucked behind his ear, his soft eyes were sparkling, and he had a lopsided smile on his face despite the fact that Alex had been shouting at him just a second earlier (well, whisper-shouting at him – they were in a library, after all).

“Sorry,” they had said, picking up their board. “I didn’t see you there. Books were in the way.” He had pointed to a heap of books now strewn across the floor, some splayed open, some with ripped pages. Alex realised that he had been carrying the books stacked up in front of him, skating along with them.

“Oh!” Alex exclaimed, bending down to help pick the books up. “No, sorry, it’s fine. I was just stood there. I’m a little lost, no problem, my fault.”

Together they had stacked the books back up, and Willie heaved the stack onto a nearby table before introducing himself. Alex did the same, shaking Willie’s hand and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach – he couldn’t let himself get distracted by a cute guy with a skateboard, not while he still had all his books to find in the labyrinthine library.

“So,” Willie had said conversationally, leaning back against the table. “You said you were lost? Anything specific you need to find?”

Alex dug around in his fanny pack before pulling out the list he’d scribbled down. “Yeah, all of these. Do you know where they are?”

“I’d be a pretty terrible librarian if I didn’t,” Willie chuckled. At Alex’s bewildered look, he had raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not a terrible librarian. I’m actually really good at it. I mean, I don’t usually knock over customers, but these things happen.”

“Oh,” Alex said, clocking on too late. It made sense – of course that was why Willie had been carrying so many books, he was a librarian. Alex didn’t know how he hadn’t guessed before. “Right, I get it, because of the books and the… Right, okay. What about the, uh… the skateboard?”

Willie had picked up their board, smiled at it fondly. “It helps me get around faster. This place is huge, man, you don’t seriously expect me to walk around it all day? Anyway, come with me, I’ll take you to those books.”

That had been five weeks ago.

It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie was incredibly cute. It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie’s shifts happened to perfectly align with his studying time. But he couldn’t deny that it was his fault that he had stayed there for hours on end every day since, talking to Willie about everything and nothing. And it was also his fault that he had done that very same thing today, checked his watch and seen that he was an hour late for band practise, and kept talking to Willie anyway.

Usually, Alex thought about consequences, but he had been having so much fun talking to Willie that day that he hadn’t considered them. Now those consequences had caught up with him in the form of one very angry rock band.

“Alex,” Luke said imploringly, “you’ve got to get your head in the game! We have a load of gigs coming up, really important ones–”

“We do?” Reggie interrupted, looking baffled. “I thought we’ve got that one at the old folks’ home and then that’s it for, like, a month?”

Luke waved him away. “That’s not the point. These gigs are just as important as any big ones. Dude, we’ve got to build up our repertoire so that we can start playing bigger venues, but that’s not going to happen if our drummer is too caught up in his studies!”

Alex inwardly sighed with relief. At least Luke thought the reason he was staying at the library so often was because he was working hard, not because he was talking to Willie. He would have preferred his tiny little crush on Willie stayed secret for a little longer; whenever Luke found out that Alex or Reggie liked someone, he became unbearable.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Julie had other ideas.

She huffed an incredulous laugh, saying, “You seriously think he’s staying late because he’s studying?”

Luke nodded, confused, as Reggie gestured to Alex and said, “Of course he is, what other reason could there be?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, nodding. He knew that the hitch in his voice was unconvincing – in his defence, he’d never been a good liar. “What other reason could there be?”

Julie raised a challenging eyebrow, but the smirk on her face told Alex that she knew she had already won. “Alex, can I just ask, who was working at the library today?”

Alex cleared his throat and tried for nonchalance when he said, “Willie.”

“You mean the good-looking skater-boy history major, right?” Julie said slyly.

Alex shrugged. “Yeah. I guess he is those things.”

Julie nodded slowly. Luke and Reggie were watching the interaction carefully, though it didn’t seem like the realisation had dawned on either of them yet.

“And who was working last Friday when you didn’t arrive back here until almost ten p.m.?” Julie asked.

“Willie,” Alex said under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Right,” Julie replied. “And what about Tuesday when you missed three lectures and were smiling too much to even care about how much that’ll drop your grade?”

Alex scowled and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the answer, and judging by the ‘O’ shape Reggie’s mouth was making and the wide grin that had made itself at home on Luke’s face, they had figured it out too.

“Bro,” Luke said excitedly, “you’ve got a crush on Willie!”

“No,” Alex spluttered, “no, I do not. We just happen to get on really well and he’s always working when I need to study.”

“But he is the reason you’re always there, isn’t he?” Reggie prompted.

Alex shrugged. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Luke leapt up, clamped his hands onto Alex’s shoulders and jumped up and down like an over-excited puppy. The ecstatic smile on Luke’s face didn’t quite make up for how annoying it was.

“Dude,” he said emphatically, “you’ve gotta ask him out!”

“Don’t be silly,” Alex said, shaking his head, “it’s not like that.”

“It’s like that,” Julie, Luke and Reggie chorused. Alex just rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex,” Julie said. He looked past Luke to her, but only because in situations like this she tended to be the voice of reason. “I actually agree with Luke.”

Apparently, that day she was taking a break from being the voice of reason.

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Julie interrupted him. “Hear me out. No matter what you say, you’re clearly head over heels for this guy. And it is distracting you – we’re two hours into rehearsal and you haven’t even set up your kit. If you ask him out and he says yes then you can hang out with him at other times as boyfriends, not when you’re meant to be spending time with us. If he says no, you can get him out of your mind and move on, getting your mind back on the band. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Again, Alex tried to respond, but this time Reggie and Luke both yelled over him.

“No!” Reggie shouted. “We agreed never to ask him that question again!”

“Have you forgotten last time?” Luke questioned furiously. “That was the longest three hours of my life!”

Julie held her hands up. “Sorry, sorry, it slipped my mind.”

“Okay,” Alex said, ignoring them and deciding to get the conversation back on track. “Even if I did do that, there’s so many things that could go wrong. I don’t know if he’s into guys, and if he says no for any reason at all then I can never go back to the library.”

Luke shook his head. “Dude, Willie’s the head of the university’s LGBTQ+ Society and he introduces himself as ‘Willie, he/they, gay’ at the start of each session.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been a couple of times. Hey, wait, we should all go, it’s actually super chill and–”

“It sounds great, Luke, but we’ll talk about it later,” Julie said, easily calming him as he started getting over-excited again. “Right now we have other things to focus on. Alex, if Luke’s right then Willie is definitely into guys. And from the way you’ve gushed about him and your conversations without realising it, I’d say he definitely has a thing for you. And he seems cool – I’m sure even if he said no then he’d act completely normally around you.”

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, “the guy doesn’t find anything awkward. Last week I was looking through a book for my psychology class and just as I flicked to a… questionable page, he came up behind me. He just laughed it off and then offered to sign it out for me once I was done looking through it.”

Alex thought about it for a moment. It sounded too good to be true. Luke said that Willie was into guys, Julie said they might like Alex, Reggie said that they’d be cool with it no matter what… Good things like this didn’t happen to Alex too often.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. The others sighed, Reggie throwing up his hands with exasperation. “I will! I’ll think. But we should get to rehearsing.”

Almost two and a half hours later than they should have, the band finally set up their instruments and Alex counted them in.

He was at the library. Again. He was always at the library these days, just this time he really did need to be working. He had a big assessment coming up and needed to cram some last-minute studying in.

It would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t been trying to avoid Willie the entire time.

In Alex’s defence, it felt like the most reasonable option. Sure, he could see Willie and ask him out, but if Willie rejected him then he wasn’t sure he’d ever live it down despite his friends’ reassurances. He could have seen Willie and not asked him out, but then he’d be living in constant wonder of what could happen. So he had elected to do the sensible thing and just not see them at all.

It had been going well for the most part. His legs were beginning to ache from springing himself behind bookcases whenever he caught a glimpse of Willie, but it was worth it. Besides – he needed to focus, and an angelic librarian wasn’t about to help him do that.

He made his fatal error when trying to exit the library.

He had been so caught up in scanning the surrounding area for Willie that he hadn’t been looking ahead, or down at the floor. He heard the shout of, “Watch out!” too late.

Alex stepped forward, his foot landed on a skateboard, and he was sent flying down to the ground, landing hard on his coccyx. Pain shot up his back and he let out an agonised groan which earned him a “Shhhh!” from a tired-looking student sat at the nearest table.

“Alex,” came the same voice who had shouted the warning, the voice Alex now recognised as Willie’s. So much for avoiding him. Willie came and crouched down beside Alex where he was still laying on the floor, leaning over him, looking concerned. “Hey, Alex, you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left my board lying there, I was only restocking that shelf.”

Groaning, Alex eased himself into a sitting position. Willie sat back, still looking worried.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex lied. His coccyx was killing him. “It’s fine. I won’t sue or demand you get fired or anything.”

Willie chuckled lightly and then held out his hand. Alex took it automatically and was a little startled when Willie began pulling him to his feet – maybe it was the shock, but he had thought the hand holding was them simply having a moment. But no, of course it was too good to be true. Willie let go of his hand the moment they were both stood and then bent to pick up his board.

“I hadn’t seen you,” Willie said. “Where’ve you been hiding?”

Alex shrugged. “Oh, nowhere. Just… doing my English work. In the quiet area.”

Nodding, Willie replied with something that made Alex’s blood run cold.

“That’s cool. It’s just that I was just talking to Luke a minute ago and he said there was something you wanted to ask me?”

Eyes wide, jaw open in shock, Alex looked behind Willie to where they had pointed. Sure enough, standing by the end of a nearby bookcase with his nose in a book (which he was clearly not reading because it was upside down) was Luke. He gave Alex a nervous wave when he saw him looking.

Trying not to sound murderous, Alex said, “Yeah. There was something.”

He realised too late that hadn’t been what he was planning to say.

“Yeah? What is it?” Willie asked with a smile.

Alex’s eyes darted from Willie to Luke and back again, then up to the ceiling and around the library for inspiration, and then they landed on his own wrist and the rainbow bracelet wrapped around it.

“I – well, we, me and my friends – we were wondering if there would be any space for us to join the LGBTQ+ Society. Luke mentioned you’re the head so I figured there’s no one better to ask than you. Right?”

Willie blinked, face faltering for just a moment. Alex tried not to panic – had he said the wrong thing, had he somehow offended Willie? But the look was gone quick enough for Alex to convince himself he’d imagined it, replaced by his radiant smile.

“Yeah, the more the merrier,” he said. But then he cleared his throat and added, “You’re sure that’s it?”

Swallowing nervously, Alex cast another glance to Luke who had given up the pretence of reading and was now urgently gesturing at Willie, making kissy faces, and mouthing words Alex couldn’t understand – but he got the message.

“Okay, no, there was one more thing,” he said quietly.

Willie tucked his hair behind his ear and Alex’s eyes caught momentarily on his earring.

“I was wondering,” he began, slow but steady, “if you would… by any chance… And you can say no, I won’t be offended! It’s just, I would really like to go on a date with you. And if you would like to go on a date with me then I think we should. Do that. Go on a date. Together. If you want?”

As awkward as it felt, Alex maintained eye contact – he was glad he did, because a moment later Willie’s face split in a beautiful grin that didn’t look mocking or apologetic, it looked genuinely happy.

“Yes,” Willie said, laughing quietly. “Yes, I do want that.”

Alex sighed with relief. “Thank god. I’m going to kill Luke.”

“Don’t,” Willie said, shaking his head. “I can’t have you getting arrested before I get to go on a date with you.”

“What about after the date?” Alex joked.

“Yeah, man, that’s fine.” Willie laughed but after a moment their expression softened. “I’m really glad you asked. I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

Alex scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. That’s the same reason it took me so long to do the actual asking.”

“Well,” said Willie, “that doesn’t matter now. Does Friday work for you?”

Alex’s only form of a social life was hanging out with the band, and his plans for Friday consisted largely of sitting in his and Reggie’s shared dorm room, eating cold pizza and watching reruns of Friends.

“Yeah,” he said coolly, “I can probably make it work. Might have to reschedule some stuff, but it’ll be worth it.”

Clearly not believing him but polite enough not to call him out, Willie laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Great. My shift finishes at five that day, I’ll let you be a gentleman and pick me up. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll catch you then, Alex.”

“See you,” Alex said.

Willie walked away and was seamlessly replaced by Luke, who gripped Alex’s arms and shook him up and down. “Bro! You got a date with Willie! You can thank me later.”

Alex left the library, Luke trailing behind him. “I’m not thanking you,” he said, fighting a smile.

“Why not? I got him to come talk to you!”

“You didn’t ask him out, I did that. There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“That is where you’re very much wrong because…”

As Luke went on for a solid ten minutes about why Alex and Willie finally agreeing to go on a date was actually all down to him, Alex zoned out and let himself be happy. He had a date with Willie, the angelic librarian, the good-looking skater-boy history major. He couldn’t believe his luck.

When they arrived back at the studio, Julie smirked and said, “You’re grinning like an idiot, Alex.”

“In my defence,” he returned, “I'm going on a date with Willie.”

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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🗣Tues 15 Dec ‘20🙊

Anyone order their daily with EXTRA DISCOURSE today? Lucky you, I guess, I'd send it back to the kitchen if I had the option but this is more a 'you'll take what you get and like it' kind of establishment so here we are! EAT UP we got Liam and Lou Teasdale making everyone mad, Louis and Harry's teams forgetting they're supposed to be mortal enemies, and Zayn?? Getting papped?? Omg is Z3 really coming this time? I've been burned so many times before (flown too close to the sun) but what if....... So first Gigi and zaby stroller were papped, then Zayn was papped in his usual way-- 'if you can get a good picture of me in the seconds it takes me to walk from my front door to the car have at it, that's exactly all you get'-- and then a fan reported seeing Zigi and zaby at a pizza restaurant. Zayn's hair is bleached white blond and that's about all I can tell you except that Z NEVER gets papped (or spotted really) for nothing so I am excite!!

Liam's back! He did the postponed-from-last-Tues hour long live for Stand Up To Cancer (and raised $16k!) and he's got a show in two days so I'd say his extremely brief breather is probably done with, whether he got the time he needed to be happy about coming back or not. He seems in good shape for the live though, even if he does say “its been a really long day, you don't even know, REALLY long” and that what he wants most for Christmas is “to have a little bit of time to reflect.” But he says he is going to take some time out and go away and write music “for the first time in a very long time,” in the new year, nice! He mentions how he went up to Sweden for recording recently and says it ”went really well I'm really really excited” about the new music and, uhhh, “got something sent through from Mick Fleetwood while I was over in Sweden writing, some guitar stuff, which was amazing, and he was dressed like santa at the time!” I...what??? I'll just... leave that there?? About other bands, he says that he's become a big fan of the Wanted over time, that “someone Zayn-ed out,” of Little Mix but “Zayn left for pretty much the same reasons and I do feel for them,” and “are 5SOS still together? Did they pull an us I thought they pulled an us?” He said yes, it's so great about Louis' show, and “it was great, and do you know what, like listening through those lyrics, it’s really nice to hear the truth in his music because obviously I mean I know all of the full story about him, and [pause].. and uh... his relationship with his girlfriend and whatever else,” SKLDYSSKKJ.

This long live also had him responding to screen comments he would usually ignore (though thank GOD he only reads but doesn't answer 'what happened with Niall in Japan' please tell me the questioner wasn't trying to get him to comment on the 'violently masturbating' story), anyway so we got Liam on touching his hair if larry is real-- “of course that's not going to happen don't be silly,” and on whether he thinks 'larry is disrespectful' “sometimes I do... actually that's not true, all the time I do.” Well he's not wrong though I'd expand that to 'all the fans' but if I had to wade through a million “touch your nose if larry is real” comments every time I was promoting my own material, for ten years, I'd probably get tetchy too! He didn't say it was or wasn't real, as he himself pointed out he never WILL do that for REASONS; tbh I'm with Liam can people PLEASE stop being so embarrassing on main and let him live? ANYWAY, moving on, his Advent Alarm clock today is the sleep story edited down to be just Liam laughing for like 30 seconds, aka the exact edit that I suggested they should make a couple weeks ago, which I find frankly extremely alarming (ALARMing HA) are they... listening to me?? Well if Liam's management are looking for ideas BOY HAVE I GOT SOME FOR THEM hit me up fellas PLEASE.

Harry and Louis both announced further postponements of their UK and Europe tour shows, like really the same announcement and just fully back to back, I can only assume that after weeks of intensive hashing out to match up dates their teams have arrived at some kind of plan and were like cool let's announce! Louis has added some new shows, while Harry's new schedule is undisclosed as yet. Harry says “I really hope to play these shows and will have news for you in the new year on when they will take place.” Louis' new dates include previously omitted countries (Iceland! Austria!), and those tickets go on sale Friday. Harry did not respond to Rob Sheffield's awkward attempt to link Watermelon Sugar and WAP as being similar but he did like Megan Thee Stallion's post celebrating her successful year, and Vulture ranked Adore You in its top 5 videos of the year with a much better take on what Harry is all about, saying that it “highlights one of the singer’s best traits: his willingness to be delightfully weird.” Kid Harpoon said that he and Harry “wrote a song in Japan that may yet see the light of the day,” and Harry continues to roast him, disputing his songwriter of the year award-- “they found 8,000,000 opposing ballots in a bin behind his house! FRAUD!”

And last but most discourse-y-est of all, The Sun made waves today, pulling the most salacious parts of a Lou Teasdale interview with the Sex, Lies and DM Slides podcast from last week and bringing it to wider attention. In the interview she talked at length about systemic discrimination against women working in the music industry and her own work experiences, which naturally include (very briefly) touching on her highest profile job- the years she spent traveling with 1D. In this context she says “you kind of can’t sleep with them [the band]- it’s quite important to keeping your job... some people would come in and like you know assistants and stuff and I think they would really think... that it was love and obviously it’s not,” and “it’s just the quickest way to lose your job- because then they’ve got a new girlfriend and she’s there and they don’t want you in the room.” She did not sell her story to The Sun she mentioned this in passing as part of an interview about her work experiences; she herself says, “I didn’t do an interview [with] the sun. I’ve never done that. I did a podcast with friends about loads of things.”

There is nothing remotely unlikely in this story, either in the concept that members of the band slept with girls casually (we know that certain of them did and there isn't even anything wrong with that in a situation of consent, the denial of it is as bizarre as scribbling out the beer bottle in a 28 year old man's hand), or that low level members (“assistants and stuff”) of the 150 person+ crew appeared and disappeared on a regular basis. The band were, to my guess, probably simply not paying very much attention to the serious ramifications of this carelessness and the consequences rather than demanding that people be fired, but I do very much hope they've learned over the years to be responsible for the kind of power that they have over other peoples' lives (something I really doubt they understood the extent of yet as very young people being dragged from one place to another who felt powerless themselves).

#liam payne #harry styles #louis tomlinson #zayn #lou teasdale #listen: people talk about wanting the 1D tell all but I don't think you guys do want it at all tbh #you know the whole point of that is that it will destroy the 'perfect angels' front that was created around the boys?#loving and supporting someone even though you know they are imperfect and flawed is not something to be ashamed of though #so I say bring it on #Liam has SO MANY reasons to be cranky right now and coming back online to everyone clamoring for him to comment #on Louis' record breaking veeps stream... honestly think it through?? have some fucking tact #Liam also said Freddie and Bear facetime which is just such clear nonsense I have no comment he just wants to make people happy #I DON'T KNOW if the Mick Fleetwood thing is real like – he seems dead serious??? I think it's serious?#How fucking Liam is that right he is as ever the most unrealistic I'm bringing back that tag:#Liam is a Gary Sue #Zaayyyyn is Z3 coming??? listen may I suggest sir-- LIVEZTREAM??? PLEASE?#I know you won't tour and wouldn't want you to but just consider how PERFECT this would be?? PLEASE SIR #lost in the shuffle: Lou Teasdale also addressed the old quote about keeping the 1D boys from looking 'too feminine'#(assumed to be @harry) saying 'it’s taken totally out of context. A clip from male grooming interview talking about grooming men.#I have no problem with men wearing make up or looking feminine it’s my profession. I apologise it sounds like that here.'#I feel like the truth is somewhere in between but I very much doubt she- the MUA- had final say over their images #and might well have not been the only thing standing between harry and his nail art and eyebrow grooming #I don't like her but like- dislike her for better reasons!#There are plenty she's very annoying but talking about sexism in the workplace and telling her story isn't one of them #Liam said he was very drunk watching Louis' show #I have a lot of things I'd like to say to Liam's management but mostly not publicly and some of them very rude #but I will say that while I guess the acknowledgement that young girls are the real drivers of the music industry and should be courted is #cool the continued obsession with only marketing these guys to that demographic was always ridiculous #and gets worse every year and Liam's team is simply throwing away money and fans by not marketing him so hard (heh) to out gay men #long post

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whump-me-all-night-long · 3 years

Text

The Jewelry Box: Carnelian’s Undoing

my contribution to Spiral Day, started by @brutal-nemesis

Did I cry while writing this? Absolutely, it was like Niagara Falls over here. This is probably one of the most emotionally draining pieces I’ve ever written. It took me several different sessions, spread out over quite a few days, to get it completed. It’s also one of those where I feel like it’ll never be really and truly ready, so here it is anyways. I hope y’all enjoy it because this was one piece that I was extremely nervous to post and share.

Taglist: @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme @kemonoinuzuka @circlingravens @whumpasaurus101 @spicy-wendigo @femmewithadhd @wafflestakethecake @lonesome–hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: thoughts of death, like so many thoughts about death, that’s basically the entire piece, acceptance of death (not in a suicidal way, more in a “I’m okay with dying” type way), beating, painful wound cleanings, noncon touching (nonsexual), implied death (but no real death), referenced grief, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, pet whump, being sold, noncon drugging, please please please let me know if I missed anything, this is a rather heavy piece and I want to make sure everyone can read it as safely as possible!

Masterlist

He was laying there, unable to move, every single inch of his body aching, a pain he’d never experienced before. Distantly, as if from another life, he heard screams, sobs, pleas that went unanswered. He wanted to move, to get up and comfort the person that had become his entire world, but he was stuck; he couldn’t move a fraction of an inch, no matter how hard he tried.

Soon enough, the horrible sounds of grief and guilt and death were replaced by the shallow, near-silent rattle of his own breath and the pounding of blood in his ears. He knew there was something important that he needed to do, something that he knew his life depended on, but he couldn’t remember what.

So instead, he just stayed there, his broken body sprawled out on the hard floor, blood pooling out from under him like a halo of death.

There was movement around him, stirring him from the half-conscious daze he was in, delirious from pain and blood loss. He blinked slowly, vision so blurry he couldn’t make out a thing, surprised to find his eyelashes meeting something wet.

Am I crying? When did I start crying?

A hand in his hair pulled his head up, the part that had been pressed into the floor feeling damp and sticky. Dark eyes met his own glazed gaze, and he saw the flash of teeth. He would’ve flinched if he could, but he couldn’t.

“Hey there, sugar,” a low, soft voice said. “You took your punishment so well. Played your part like a champ. Now my sweetheart’s breaking, all thanks to you. I knew you’d be absolutely perfect.”

For some reason, he started crying harder at that. No, he thought, I didn’t want to do this. You made me do this. He can’t break, not now.

Not over me.

The other dropped his head back down, and he went back to drifting, letting all the thoughts fall out of his head.

He woke next to the tap tap tap of footsteps. Blinking groggily, he tried to sit up, tried to get up, but the pain lancing through his body prevented him from doing more than rolling over a couple inches.

A shiny shoe resting on his cheek, pressing his head down, kept him from attempting it again. A face settled in his line of sight, and his lip curled.

The Jeweler stared at him for a moment, a pleasant smile on his face. “Hello, sugar,” he said, removing his foot and replacing it with his hand, which stroked his face in a way that made him want to push him off, but his body was still not responding to him.

He swallowed several times before cracking open his mouth. “What-” His voice was rough and hoarse, sending a cough through him. “What did you do to, to me? Where- where is he?” Panic started overwhelming him, crashing over him and pulling him down, drowning him.

He couldn’t remember anything. He had been in his cell, whispering with his world, and then there was nothingness, blankness, emptiness. Tears pricked in his eyes, and he took a shaky, shuddering breath that ended up sounding like a sob.

The Jeweler moved his hand to comb through his hair, still softly smiling. “Shh, shh,” he soothed. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about any of that. You don’t need to remember any of this. What you need is to forget. You’re going someplace new, and you’re leaving all of this behind. Okay, sugar?”

He tried to shake his head, but it was barely more than a twitch. No, no I don’t want that. Please, don’t kill me, don’t make me leave, I can’t leave him, please.

The Jeweler laughed softly. “My silly sugar,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. “Just relax, okay?”

“Please,” he managed to whisper before his head was set back down.

The Jeweler stood, grabbing something out of his line of sight. When he did see what it was, the fat tears rolled down his face even harder. The large needle, filled with a menacing amber liquid, came close to his neck, piercing it easily with him weak and nearly paralyzed. His mouth opened to whine softly at the cold flooding into him, before it withdrew and was left alone again.

His eyes found the Jeweler and he sobbed, begging, “Please, not this, anything but this.” He just smiled.

He didn’t so much as wake up next as he did rise to consciousness, suddenly and roughly. Hands, too many hands, were touching him, grabbing him, manhandling him.

A low groan slipped out of him as he tried and failed to open his eyes and he heard a muttered curse.

“It wasn’t supposed to wear off yet, was it?” someone asked in a hushed voice.

“Who cares?” someone else responded. “It’s not like it’ll remember any of this anyways.”

He whimpered and the hands resumed their work. He could feel them harshly cleaning out his wounds, bandaging them up. The people surrounding him were thorough, his gently throbbing muscles telling him that much, and it felt like an eternity before they were done.

He sighed as they set him back down, ready to slip back off to oblivion, but then they were back, pulling at his clothing, taking it off-

He yelped as the cold air hit his sensitive skin, struggling against the hands. Weak as he was, it barely affected them, but he still heard several more curses as flailing limbs knocked into them. A backhanded slap had him stilling, though, knocking all the fight out of him and leaving him even more dizzy and disoriented than he was before.

He let them pull new clothes onto him, although they felt less like clothes and more like scraps of cold, thin cloth that barely covered him. He shivered and whimpered, high in his throat, face burning, desperately wishing he was anywhere else in the world.

Another voice joined the fray, this one too painfully familiar. “Is he ready?”

A chorus of “yes, sir”s followed, and then hands grabbed at his arms, lifting him up and dragging him along. His head rolled wildly, completely out of his control.

After what felt like an eternity, he was dropped yet again onto cold floors, crumpled in a heap. He whimpered as his head knocked against the hard tile, eyes struggling to stay open.

Distantly, he heard the Jeweler barking orders. He let the words wash over him, floating around him, unable to pierce his drug-induced bubble of semi-consciousness.

Instead, he let his thoughts drift back to him. The him that had started all of this, that he’d known since day one, that had helped him and held him, guided him and encouraged him. The him that had loved him. The him that he had loved.

It took him several moments to realize that he was crying again, silent, salty tears dripping down his face, causing the small cuts littering his skin to burn faintly. He knew he was about to die. He wasn’t scared. Angry, yes. Sad, yes. But scared? No, he wasn’t scared of death at all.

He used to be scared of being stuck in this hell on earth for the rest of his life, of never escaping, always stuck in this stasis. Now, he was scared of leaving him behind, not knowing what was going to happen to the person he was about to die for. Wherever he went after this, he didn’t want him to follow very quickly.

No, he wanted him to escape, to forget, to live. He wanted him to find someone else, someone new, to make him happy, who understood and forgave. Maybe one day he’d tell this new person about the old one, the one who had been sacrificed to get him there.

There was only one regret he had. The one thing they’d sworn never to say, he wished he had said. And he wished he had heard it in return.

I promise, if I make it out of this, the first thing I’ll do when I escape - when, not if - is find you and tell you that I lo-

He was yanked out of his thoughts by hands grabbing him, lifting him. One last tear rolled down his face, into his hairline. He took a deep breath, one of his last. He felt ready to die. He didn’t mind dying, not for this reason.

He wondered, vaguely, how he would go. Would it be a bullet? Fire? Knife? Poison?

It was none of those things.

He was placed inside a large wooden box. His hands were easily tied behind his back with what felt like silky ropes, and his ankles were forced together with the same material. A cloth gag was placed in his mouth, securely fastened around his head. He blinked slowly, confusion evident on his face. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Somewhere above him, the Jeweler stood, seen through flashes of dark hair and pale skin, sparkling teeth and bright eyes. He reached down into the box to cup his cheek, stroking a smooth thumb over his skin, pressing lightly into a blooming bruise there.

“Just a bit beat up, right, sugar?” he said, almost.. gently? “By the time you get there, you’ll be nearly back to full health, I dare say.” There? Where was there? “Just close your eyes now, and stay calm, alright? You’re doing such a good job here, making me a wonderful sum along with a new business associate. You’ve really been the perfect Jewel for me, sugar.”

The hand withdrew, and he almost found himself missing the warmth of it when the light above him was cut off, something large being placed over the top of the box. It wasn’t until a painfully loud whirring sound started that he realized that it was the lid, and it was being drilled down, secure and unable to be broken.

Then the box was being lifted into the air and he went rolling as much as he could, unable to stop himself due to his restrained limbs. There was a hard thump and he banged his head against the side of the box, immediately losing consciousness.

When he woke up next, he was still in the box. It seemed like it was in some sort of plane, gliding smoothly through the air, occasionally tilting to one side or the other. He breathed in a ragged breath, most of his memories coming back to him. As he struggled to pull himself up into somewhat of a sitting position, he remembered three things, three very important things:

One. His name was Carnelian. He’d all but forgotten the name he had before that. The name that mattered was Carnelian.

Two. He was supposed to be dead, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was being sold, shipped off to God knows where, to God knows who.

Three. He had to get back to Sapphire. He had to find the love of his life again, rescue him and tell him that he loved him.

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