#and not in a sarcastic way – they do seem to be struggling pretty badly

[amorchai]

hii !! i was wondering if i could mayyyebebee request an abed nadir x reader fic?:??::??. there’s nothing of him at all and i love him so bad:( just like go crazy lol:) i would love a romantic relationship in it and preferably with a gender neutral reader please<3 thank you so so so much i appreciate u!!!!

abed finds out you like him.

pairing(s): abed nadir x reader

words: 738

warnings/tags: mentions of neurotypical, abed not understanding, i try to write abed as accurately and appropriate as possible i hope my depiction of him is okay!

abed wasn’t one for social cues. you knew this from the start of being in the chaotic study group. whenever someone was sarcastic, he thought they were serious. and if someone was unhappy with him it sometimes took abed a while to notice.

however, you trying to let abed know you like him through simple signs was hellish. even a neurotypical person may not even get the signs, therefore poor abed nadir never stood the chance.

troy, as the role of abed’s best friend – practically platonic boyfriend – did notice the signs. watching as you took more than an interest in his movie rants than even troy could sometimes bear, bringing him hot chocolate in the morning, or asking him fitting questions and smiling lovingly as you watched him go into overdrive and talk it out.

annie and troy would fangirl over it, fawning over their best friend having a love interest. oh how badly they wanted abed to have someone, especially someone like you, who treated him just as well as they did.

troy had been desperate to tell abed, knowing you struggled on that end. but after months, annie had begged troy not to ruin the story and that it’ll happen when it’s meant to.

however, his promise to keep it to himself didn’t last long. since, one day, after you left their shared apartment – all lovey dovey eyed after hours of watching abed’s favourite movie per your request – troy immediately let it spill.

annie was smiling, watching abed as the door clicked shut and troy reluctantly set his third chocolate cake slice down to the side, “y/n likes you!”

immediately, annie’s smile drops, landing a swift smack against troy’s arm from sitting beside him, “troy! what did i tell you?” they bicker slightly, at first not noticing their best friend’s confused expression.

“what do you mean?”

annie sighs, looking over to abed who is trying to process the news in his own way – which seems to be slightly confusing but overwhelming him all at the same time.

“… what troy’s trying to tell you is that y/n likes you, like… in a romantic way abed.”

abed’s eyes are darting, eyebrows frowned as he continues to intake the words his friend’s tell him. “in a ‘let’s get together’ way?” asks abed, and they both nod in reply, expectantly watching his expressional response.

abed didn’t depict this in their television show, although he did portray you as the ‘pretty one’ or as the ‘caring and kind’ one of the group which he is now realising is because he thought those things himself.

so, without responding, abed stands, shocking his friend’s as he runs to the door and quickly down the hall. “abed! abed, where are you going?” troy yells desperately, worried tones while annie mutters, “look what you did.”

he doesn’t stop, reading the front door wedged open with an old brick and towards your frame, now opening your car door to drive home. “y/n!” you hear and pause, turning to see abed trudging over.

“abed- whats going on-?” your interrupted as abed kisses you, short but slightly breath-taking as your mind goes blank, in disbelief. once he pulls away, abed says nothing, making you speak first, “is that one of your movie character moments or…” you trail off, unsure what else it would be.

“you like me.”

you groan embarrassed, “i’m gonna kill troy i swear.”

“i like you.”

you pause, looking up at his daring eyes, scanning your confused expression, “y-you do?” you ask him.

“yeah… i think so.”

usually, that answer would worry you, but it was different with abed, it was a major moment between you both in that moment. abed nadir hardly admitted feelings, especially in a romantic sense, unless he was depicting a character.

“do you think annie and troy will be watching us from the window?” you ask with a giggle and abed smiles, immediately responding, “absolutely.”

you lean up, pressing a long and heartfelt kiss to abed’s cheek and you watch his reaction, taken aback but a small smile still covers his face. his fingers touch the spot, his cheeks heating up like a furnace while you spin round to your open door to your car.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, abed, okay?”

“okay.” abed replies, waving you goodbye as you drive off, knowing he will go back into chaos of annie and troy squealing and celebrating their friend’s newfound romance.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[falconwhitaker]

.

[inbarfink]

"Just move forwards, Simon! Well, maybe I don't want to move forwards!"

Okay, so it’s pretty damn obvious that Simon’s whole rant here is not just about the physical act of moving forwards through the Time Room. Like, I don’t need to explain what ‘moving forwards’ means in this case, right? But… the thing I’ve been thinking of is that the metaphor here might actually extend more than just this one line.

Because, yeah, Simon does need to move forwards. Metaphorically because embracing change and accepting you can’t actually go back to some idealized past where things were Better is the only way he can actually be happier. And literally because there is an Angry Beetle Cop out to murder his head off for the crime of being chosen by God as a sapient hard-drive. 

But moving on is hard, and you know why?

Because it is hard to move forwards in this silly little mumu.  

And again, this is both metaphorical and literal. Simon is fully aware that he should move forwards with his life, but this robe is yet another painful reminder of the trauma he’s trying to move on from. Yet another example of people treating him like he’s Ice King. Yet another symbol that him being Simon again is seen as some sort of a mistake.

And also, it’s just obviously physically, literally uncomfortable for him to move in this thing.

Simon was forced into a fit designed for a Wizard who could Fly. He’s constantly lifting it up and being so careful about his steps as to not stumble on it, and also trying so hard to not flash his genitalia to God and God’s two OCs that he shoved in his brain. Not to mention he’s running around the Time Room barefoot. And, like, at least when Ice King wore this he still had underpants.

But the thing is.... like, okay, the thing about the Shorts Scene is that it is kinda unfair Fionna got her outfit upgraded into a more comfortable variant while Simon still has to wear the Trauma Robes. But the important thing to remember is that Fionna got those lovely shorts because she explicitly complained about the skirt.

You can say that Simon’s problems should’ve been Obvious and maybe that’s true… but it’s still notable that unlike Fionna, who immediately complained when she started to find her outfit kinda uncomfortable - Simon lets out one sarcastic grumble when he first gets the robe and then just keeps his mouth shut and quietly wallows in his misery until he reached his breaking point. 

That seems notable especially with what we see of Simon in “Simon Petrikov” and how hard it is for him to be honest with his loved ones about his problems. 

I’ve seen some people express some anger at the way Finn and Marceline acted towards Simon during that episode. Saying they didn’t care about Simon enough. But Simon was deliberately hiding his struggles from them - and especially from Marcy. You know, he opened up to Finn and Finn was honestly doing what he thought was best. The problem being that Finn is pretty-messed-up himself and not good at therapy.

And Simon decided the best solution was just to drop the whole thing and pretend that Finn’s adventure did help as a way to end that nightmare without directly confronting him about Actually Making Things Worse. As far as Finn is concerned, Simon was doing badly and is now doing well. And as far as Marcy is concerned Simon is doing just fine! And this situation is not likely to change unless Simon actually speaks up!

Of course, this is easier said than done. I mean, like I said, he was TRYING to open up to Finn and from his perspective, got punished for even trying out for help.

And with the mumu, the situation is a even more complicated. Yes, Simon didn’t speak up when he had the chance to say ‘hey, actually it’s also pretty hard to run around barefoot in a robe! I would like some Pants please!” But also… where Finn and Marceline have both expressed nothing but genuine concern for Simon and take his issues very seriously in their own way - Prismo, Fionna and Cake have all been kinda callous about Simon’s situation and his mental well-being so far. 

So maybe it wasn’t totally unreasonable for Simon to assume that any attempt to assert what would make it easier for him to actually move forwards will fail. Or at least would be far too emotionally grueling to actually be worth it. I'm not saying that's for-sure what would've happened. I mean those three aren't just jerks for the sake of being jerks - it's just that Prismo is kinda occupied with his own grief-induced-depression-spiral and Fionna and Cake don't really get Simon yet. And we're surely going to get to a point in this narrative where these two genuinely care about him too sooner or later. But I can see in that moment why he would think that.

And so he keeps wallowing in the misery and resentment as it gets increasingly harder and harder to keep going forwards. Until he breaks and decide that maybe, what he actually wants is to just stop.  

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Has anyone asked you about erisol?

If no, then what's your opinion on them! :-)

I feel like people will be upset at me for this, but a completely platonic and completely lukewarm mutual dislike... they don't really like each other, but take no great issue with each other either. The boys are not fightingggg

So like. A common thing in fandoms is taking things at face value and not really reading any deeper into them. You see this a shitton with Eridan in general - lots of people take it 100% at face value that he's a casteist genocide liker, when it's pretty clear upon further examination that he's pretty much lying about being casteist and doesn't actually want to murder his friends. So, at face value, Eridan hates Sollux, and either wants to do spadesies with him, or go ashen with him. And so this has become a really popular ship, but the thing is... at basically every turn, the story kind of goes out of its way to point out that there's actually nothing between them. At least romantically.

See, Eridan does not actually hate Sollux, at least not to the level of pitch/ashen. TWICE before Sollux and Feferi start hanging out all the time, we see Eridan commenting on Sollux in a fairly neutral-negative way - the first time calling him "a drama machine" and noting that "it is fuckin pathetic," and the second time as "the dead guy who saved [Feferi]". And let's be clear about the former, Eridan is just kind of Like That, he's rude as fuck even about people he LIKES (calling his BFF Karkat an "assblood" and sarcastically referring to Feferi by her royal titles), so that's actually one of the less nasty things he's said about someone.

Meanwhile, on Sollux's end, he LITERALLY says "not interested" to what he perceives as pitch/ashen advances from Eridan. Like, actually just says those words out loud. Not even in a pesterlog, he actually just says those words with his mouth.

So it seems to me that there's a pretty clear case to be made here that Eridan and Sollux kind of just... don't really give a shit about each other, and probably wouldn't have interacted in any substantial way if not for Feferi's involvement. Especially because Eridan's chosen method of hitting on Sollux is with casteism, something he's already faking in the first place.

If we really want to dig into this, though, it's kind of - in my eyes - a lukewarm case of the hedgehog dilemma. They're a bit too similar, and it winds up causing them both mild pain to get too close.

They're both nihilists that kind of hate themselves. Sollux's mutated brain causes him a not-insignificant amount of discomfort, his visions of the future and of the "imminently doomed" have made him lose a lot of hope, and he blames himself for killing Aradia, something so painful that he didn't tell anyone else she died, to the point where most of the team - including Terezi and Tavros - had to find out after entering the game. Meanwhile, Eridan struggles with the perceived inevitability of a lifestyle that causes him nothing but distress, and his constant, overwhelming anxiety about it leads to constant stressing over whether or not he's "good enough"; whenever he's in severe emotional distress, he starts beating up on himself.

They also both front at being more okay with their problems than they actually are. Sollux has his 1337 hacker, two cool for you persona that he puts on, and Eridan is always trying to be the big bad sea dweller. For example, Sollux goes "I'm not trolling the humans, it's beneath me," but he's in Jade's trollslum, so the implication there is that he totally did try trolling, it went badly for him, and now he's pretending that he was always better than that. And I don't think I need to tell you how hard Eridan works to try and present himself as badass and scary and totally not deep in the throes of emotional anguish at all times.

And these are the similarities that ultimately make Erisolsprite so stable. Erisolsprite speculates that maybe the reason he hasn't exploded yet is that deep down, he loves to suffer. The truth is, there's nothing between the two that's really so objectionable that they would ACTUALLY hate each other; Eridan isn't actually casteist, and Eridan never really hated Sollux in the first place.

Neither would they bring each other any comfort or joy - Eridan doesn't have any sympathy for Sollux's baggage, since, like, what, he only killed ONE person, and was even under mind control, so it's not like it was really his fault. He's a drama machine. And Sollux wouldn't have sympathy for Eridan's problems, partially because they manifest in such cringeworthy, embarrassing ways (and Sollux is highly sensitive to not being cringe, seeing as he's always commenting on other people being embarrassing or overly earnest), and partially because - I mean, fuck it, he's a rich-ass sea dweller who doesn't need to worry about being harvested to be a battery for a living ship. And also he's an idiot.

That's kind of what their relationship is to me, you know? A tepid and lukewarm dislike. They're just similar enough to each other to understand the other, and just different enough to be like "ugh, but that guy suuuuuuuucks". It's very funny, but not really a ship, hahaha.

So what you really get from that is two guys that just kind of dislike each other. Not vehemently or diametrically enough for pitch or ashen, and not a trace of the requisite pity for flushed or pale. When you throw the two together into one sprite, it won't shut up about how much it hates itself, how each part of itself is flabberghasted by the other, and how much practically the only reason it doesn't explode is a resounding "meh."

Eridan likes to validate his despair; ironically, since it's all he's ever known, it's where he feels comfortable - and nobody would provide better doomscrolling material than the doom player. Similarly, Sollux likes to torment himself, suffering his guilt in silence, and Eridan has SO MUCH to feel guilty over. Combine them into one entity, and you have a guy who can reach SUCH levels of revelling in his own misery, you don't even KNOW.

Not that it's healthy or positive for either of them... just that it would be incredibly stable. It's their worst tendencies being satisfied by each other. Maybe that's a form of leprechaun romance, but it's certainly not a quadrant.

[playingdxngerous]

guitar lessons

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!! some impact play (barely, like almost not at all), degradation, teasing, talk of a safe word, handcuffs (in a way?? but not for very long), praise, a little fluff, fingering, masturbation, oral f! and m! receiving, penetration f! receiving

Word Count: 1822 IT FEELS SO SHORT AND RUSHED IM SO SORRY 💔💔 IT’S 2 AM IM SO TIRED

Hookups with Jake were not unusual. It happened more often than you wish to admit. However, today will be different. Today is a guitar lesson, and only a lesson. Nothing more, nothing less. Right?

.

.

.

As you begin to knock on the all too familiar door of Jake's house, he opens it immediately. He greets you with a bright smile, seeming genuinely excited to see you.

"Hey pretty girl," he smirks. Your face automatically gets hot, but you do your best to shut it down.

"Jake stop. We agreed just a guitar lesson today. That's it." You respond. He rolls his eyes.

"I know. Come in." He widens the door and locks it behind you as you walk in. The smell of pumpkin overwhelms your senses as you walk into the living room. A small candle is lit on the table, creating a comforting vibe to the area.

"Since when did you even own candles," you laugh. He looks at you and struggles to hold down his smile.

"Fine then," he blows it out. "Guess someone doesn't appreciate fall like I do." You can't help but stare at him. He is built with beauty. From his blue plaid shirt to his skinny jeans, everything about him is so beautiful. Today is going to be very hard to keep as just a guitar lesson when all you can think about it how badly you wish to kiss his perfect lips.

"See something you like?" He teases as he looks himself up and down.

"Bring me the stupid guitar," you laugh, trying to avoid the question as you both know the answer already. He walks over with a basic black guitar and places it in your arms while he sits on the couch beside you.

"Aw is your beloved too precious for me to play?" You say through a grin.

"You are so needy. We are never going to get anywhere like this." Nevertheless, he gets up once more and brings you his well-known Gibson SG. There's small chips and scratches along the paint of it, reminding you of all the times you've watched him absolutely destroy it on stage. All the times you've watched him pulse into it just like he does to you.

"So, what all do you know about guitar already?" He asks, breaking your dirty thoughts.

"Absolutely nothing."

"Okay great," he says sarcastically. "Guess we can start with chords then." He begins to give you finger placements which you try your best to follow. You fail of course, with it being your very first time even holding a guitar.

"Alright here I'll show you," he says as he grabs your left hand and places it correctly on the fretboard. You scoot closer to him and angle your body, your back laying against his chest. He grabs your right hand and helps you strum the strings.

"You're doing so good now," he says softly into your ear.

"As if you aren't doing all the work for me."

"Fine then I won't help you." He says as he pulls away from your body. His absence leaves your body cold, longing for his warmth.

"Wait no, come back I'm just kidding. I like your help." You pull him by the sleeve back to where he was. He sighs and starts to talk about another chord, yet all you can think about is him and his perfection. His cologne now becomes more visible with the scent of the candle fully gone. You take note of his calloused fingertips grazing across yours. His soft brunette locks touch your shoulder every time he leans against you further.

"Are you even listening?" He asks, bringing you back to reality.

"Yeah sorry." You apologze.

"What did I just say then?" You do your best to come up with a response, but there's no way you could even try to lie your way out of this. His beauty getting the best of you, you turn a little and kiss him. You remember all the promises to keep this just a guitar lesson, but deep down you know it's impossible with Jake Kiszka this close to you. He sets his guitar on this ground and grabs you by the hips. The passion in the kiss turns to lust as he runs his tongue across your bottom lip, begging to let him in.

The kiss gets deeper and deeper as time goes on. You run your hand down the buttons in his shirt and begin to undo the top one. All of a sudden he pulls away.

"You said just a guitar lesson and I don't want to make you do anything you don't-" he says before you interrupt him with another kiss.

"Fuck that Jake. I want you."

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Very." You say shortly. He kisses you again, this one somehow even more powerful than the last few. You undo the last buttons, and he slides the sleeves off him arms.

"Just couldn't avoid me enough huh? Too wet and desperate for my dick?" He rasps, making you literally stop breathing. You've waited far too long to see this side of him again. His words turn you on, making you feel your cunt get wetter by the second.

"Holy shit your attitude changed." You breathe out heavily.

"Oh yeah? Should I stop then? You know you have a safe word pretty girl." He raises his hands to your tits, squeezing them softly.

"Please don't stop Jake. I need you so bad." You begin to grind against the crotch of his jeans, making a mess in your underwear.

"Let's go to the bed?" He asks, to which you nod and drag him by the hand to his room. He pushes you on the bed and you crawl back against the pillows. He kisses your thigh, stopping at the zipper on your jeans. He unzips them, and you help guide them off of you. You pull your shirt off, causing him to reach up and unclasp your bra. Throwing it on the ground, he immediately starts sucking on your tits. You squeeze your legs together in order to relieve some of the tension between them. He pushes them apart as soon as he notices.

"C'mon now, let's not get too fast."

"Please Jake, I need you." You whimper. To your surprise he listens and slides his fingers across your wet panties.

"Like I said before, you're always so, so needy. Begging for me like a little whore." He stops his hand and pushes two fingers against your hole, the fabric still covering it. "Say it. Tell me you're my whore."

"I"m your whore..." you whisper.

"Speak up sweetheart." He somewhat gently slaps your thigh with his free hand.

"I'm your fucking whore Jake please just fuck me already oh my god." He takes his hand away. "Please," you say nicely as you grab his wrist.

"Should I really? I think I'd prefer to watch you squirm and beg for me." He grabs your tits once more and sucks a hickey onto your chest. Tired of waiting, you reach down and rub your clit yourself. You moan and grab his hair with your other hand. He pulls away again to no surprise.

"That's not going to work sweetheart." He confusingly gets off the bed. "Don't you fucking move." He says, walking out of the room. He returns seconds later with a guitar strap in his hands. He steps over to you and ties your wrists together with the strap.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" You smirk.

"Not important," he says shortly. He finishes tying and kisses a trail from your lips to your soaked underwear. He slides his finger over your slit, still covered by the stupid fabric you wish you took off earlier. "This what you want baby?" He asks. You nod vigorously. He pulls the panties off, sliding his fingers once more. He brings them to your mouth, making you taste yourself. He then sucks on those same fingers before sliding two of them into you quickly. You moan as he curls them just right.

"I'm going to cum if you keep doing that." You say, yet immediately regret. He pulls out of you, edging you worse than ever.

"We can't have you doing that so soon my love. We just started." He moves his head down right after, licking circles around your clit yet refusing to touch it. You try to reach down and guide him, yet the guitar strap stops you. You grind your hips into his face instead. He actually lets you do this, shocking you to your core. The feeling of his tongue moving so smoothly against your clit sends chills down your back. The knot in your stomach burns even more, just begging to come undone. Jake notices and pulls away once more. This man will be the death of you.

"I said not so soon." He smirks. His starvation for you fills his eyes. He wipes his mouth with the side of his hand and undoes the guitar strap. "Touch yourself."

"What?" You're taken aback by his comment.

"Touch yourself like the slut you seem to be. So needy to cum so do it already." You reach down and rub your clit as he watches. He leans down and kisses your thighs. You move faster, to which he responds by sadly grabbing your wrists and stopping you. "You really think I'd let you finish that easily?"

"You're such a fucking asshole." You groan. He suddenly unzips his jeans, his dick hard already. He reaches in his nightstand and throws a condom at you.

"Put it on me." He demands. You slide it on him and pull back to let him fuck you. He immediately begins to pulse into you, moaning under his breath. "So hot watching my dick in your pretty pussy," he whispers into your ear. This sends you over the edge, finally allowing your orgasm to release. Your moans turn into yells. He pulls out of you to let both of you catch your breath. "Make me cum sweetheart." You turn around and sit on top of him. Your shaky legs straddling his waist. You scoot further down and pull the condom off, putting his dick in your mouth. You go as far as you can, your hands covering the rest of his length. You bob you head up and down, before he quickly finishes into your mouth.

"Such a good girl," he says, pulling you up by your jaw. He kisses you shortly. "My good girl." You kiss him lovingly, your hands moving up his neck and into his hair. "So pretty and perfect. You did so good."

"So much for the guitar lesson," you giggle. He pulls you in close and squeezes you.

"This was much better."

"Are you saying I suck at guitar?" You scoff.

"No!, he clarifies, "I was just aching to touch you the whole time."

"Mhm yeah, keep trying to defend yourself Kiszka."

"Fuck you," he laughs.

"Pretty sure you already did." You fall back into his arms, kissing his cheek as he embraces you.

[fellhellion]

Got xinamiguel on my mind again. Do you think Xina was probably the only one that truly know Miguel? Like, Gabriel and Miguel grew apart when he went to boarding school, and I don't think they ever truly reconnected. Not to mention people change the most during that time period. And I don't think Miguel has any other close friends.

hmmm i think she knows him far more intimately than pretty much anyone else in his life besides Gabriel, but I don't think i'd personally say she's the only one to "truly" know him. because setting aside the question of whether she knows the totality of the abuse miguel went through at home (which i'm honestly not sure there's any evidence either way and to me it's plausible for both miguel to have eventually convided in her as an adult AND never said anything) there are conversations between them that they too are avoiding.

xina doesn't want to dig into the whys of him cheating (completely understandable) and accepts him back into her life w an honestly pretty luckluster apology and her deflecting sarcastically about why she was w him in the first place. they obviously really missed one another and by virtue of that, seem to resettle back into the rhythm of their old friendship without truly clearing the air about how badly miguel betrayed xina's trust, beyond the fact that yeah, he hurt her. as i've read thus far, i don't think those two ever actually say aloud that what was between them was (and STILL IS) love, even when every context clue is pointing in that direction.

none of this diminishes how she is one of the few people who knows him best, absolutely, but i think it's also very hard to truly know the totality of someone who avoids even voicing their perspective on some critical issues between you. let alone miguel avoiding introspection on those issues in the first place fkjsdhfjk makes it very hard to know someone when they're ALSO avoiding knowing themselves fkjdsfkjsdjk

slightly divergent point im sorry fskjfhjksd but also on gabriel, i don't personally think it's even about them being unable to reconnect because of the distance between them growing up. gabriel struggles to conceptualise what happened to the brother he knew for him to so drastically change into an alchemax stooge over the years, but it's not for lack of trying. he does try to reconnect with miguel, he just keeps buffered every time by miguel at first dodging guilt and then dodging hard conversations + the inherent issues w secret identity

[moonlit-reveriee]

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳who cursed the bludger? ♡

in which the reader's dominant hand is injured badly after a rogue bludger slams into it and none other than fred weasley is behind it. who cursed the bludger?

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ± 2k

tw: serious injury, a little bit of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. penny clearwater

who cursed the bludger?

y/n was currently draped lazily over her broomstick, haven given up trying to teach penelope clearwater how to fly. said prefect was on the grass, smirking as y/n embarrassedly looked around.

"penny that's not ok to ask!"

"fine, fine," she pondered for a moment, "hey, what's up with you and fred weasley, huh?"

"nothing at all," y/n answered a little too quick for penny's liking.

"c'mon, y/n, you're younger than me, i should know all that happens. you two are very...flirty."

"yeah well, my dear pennysylvania, we have flirty personalities. duh."

"no, you don't."

"okay, i don't. he does."

"but he seems like he means it."

"of course he means it? he says it in a joking way? y'know, he means it as a joke."

"hmm, nope, i don't think so, y/n. he's looking your way right now."

"i'm probably blocking the space, let's move outta the way."

"you're not gonna play with them?"

"already play in matches, why now? let's chat."

fred was silently eavesdropping on their conversation as he heard his name.

"sooo you and perceeee??" y/n dragged out, grinning as she did loop-do-loops with her broomstick.

penny blushed, but looked disappointed, "he likes oliver."

"oh. well, f percy, what about marcus??"

"he's just marcus. we're best friends, y/n."

"my fav trope of romance is best friends to lovers," y/n wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and penny shook her head in amusement.

"my one is the opposites attract."

"hmm yeah, that's a good one too, it's really cute! say, aren't you and mar-"

"i was meaning you!"

"huh?"

"you and fred."

fred smirked as he listened, flicking back the bludger harshly at angelina.

"oh yes because we are totally meant for each other," y/n sarcastically replied.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"yes."

"you're doing this on purpose!"

"hmm? what?"

"oh my goodness, merlin you're stupid bro!" penny said exasperatedly.

"and you just realised. congrats, penny."

"anyway, what i'm saying is you and fred are rather like opposites. although he's extroverted and you're extroverted, you're a cute little nerd," y/n huffed at this 'i am n o t a nerd for the last time!' "and he's a class clown in the most charming way. you like reading and he likes pranking people and quidditch. you're a goody two shoes, an adorable one, but he's this foolish jock," penny looked proud with her argument so y/n laughed, "you're modest and he's very confident. and you're both hot."

y/n smiled, "i am not hot!" she giggled, "that's stupid."

"oi, ange!" penny called to angelina who looked over at her in amusement.

"yeah?"

"is y/n hot?"

"oh, totally!" angelina casually threw the quaffle into the hoop, "10/10."

"guyyys you flatTer me," y/n stretched out as the three of them laughed, "i'm bLushIng."

"you actually are," angie quipped.

"it's a command thing. if she wants to blush, she'll blush," replied penny.

they burst into giggles again.

fred watched y/n. a rosy pink, sure enough, had spread across her cheeks. that was enough to get her blushing?

"oi, l/n!"

y/n's head snapped his way, her eyes narrowed as if expecting an insult being thrown her way.

"your lips are pretty!"

her form relaxed, "thanks! yours are too!!"

penny giggled as angie rolled around laughing.

"what?" y/n looked around.

"the way you return flirting is hilarious."

"a compliment for a compliment, isn't that what they say?"

angelina snorted, "no one says that."

"oh well i say it, so deal with it."

"hey, i have an idea!" penny brightened up.

"let's hear it!"

"let's teach y/n pick up lines, ange!"

"oh you're a genius, penny!"

"okay, so-"

a bludger came whizzing at y/n as she screamed, trying frantically to dodge it. it hit her hand and a crack was heard.

luckily she immediately hopped off calmly, taking out her wand shakily and stunning the bludger, before penny and angie helped her over to the hospital ward, fred lagging guiltily behind.

she was ordered to stay in bed rest and with drowsy eyes she drifted off.

fred watched her feeling so terrible as he saw her heavily bandaged hand, imagining how he was going to tell her that he was in fact the one that had charmed it.

the next day, she was out and about, gently cradling her hand which was broken.

"um, hey, y/n," he nervously approached her.

"oh, hello!"

"i might have jinxed the bludger to go wild," he confessed abruptly, "i'm really sorry i didn't mean to-"

"no, it's fine, really." she gave him a reassuring smile and walked off.

he noticed that she couldn't write in class. usually she was scribbling away, but she just sat awkwardly at her desk, trying frantically to get anything legible down with her non-dominant hand. the fact she was so courteous and forgiving about everything just made it worse.

by now, y/n was dying inside. she couldn't write notes, and even though she wanted to ask any willing person for a duplicate of their notes, she'd have to explain the whole broken hand thing.

"ange?"

"yep?"

"do you have history of magic notes?" y/n did puppy eyes.

"nope, you forgot i dropped out."

"oh."

"do you want mine?" fred asked, smirking as he looked y/n up and down.

"you take notes?!!!" y/n was shook.

"only for you, 'cause i felt bad."

"you didn't need to!"

"i did. you want them?"

"yes please, thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!!"

"you're acting like you're not the one the bludger hit," angie quipped and y/n frowned, completely forgetting fred was still there, browsing the notes.

"c'mon, it was just an accident. and i've always wanted to be ambidextrous."

"lovely, you were struggling. i'll take all your notes. my handwriting isn't neat but i owe you."

y/n ducked to hide the light blush she could not control at all.

immediately she got a confused look from fred.

and instantly she thought of something that might make the blush go away. he didn't mean it, it slipped out, she thought and she felt her face cooling down, a slight frown appearing on her face.

"o-okay, thanks fred."

"no problems, darling," he flirted.

"that's good, darling," she flirted graciously back, bravely tilting her head up and looking him in the eye.

he took it well.

"where did you learn how to flirt so well, my little love??"

"why, freddie," she joked flirtatiously, "from you of course!"

he coughed and excused himself.

"he should really be careful with who he's flirting mindlessly with," y/n rolled her eyes.

angelina laughed, "flirting mindlessly? do you see the way he looks at you?"

"personality," y/n stated simply.

"or not."

true to his word, notes in fred's flurry of handwriting appeared neatly stacked every day. they were far too thorough and consisted of stupid flirty notes by the side. sometimes a little note, written in class, was jammed in there probably by accident:

hello freddie!

i have a crush on you 0-o, hogsmeade at 7pm on sunday?

-jamie <3, boy who sits in front of you in arithmancy

jamie,

i already have my eye on someone :) not you, sorry, y/n cringed at the bluntness of his words

you are very nice, perhaps try trera rivera if you swing that way? or illinois ann if you swing all ways?

oh i'm so sorry, i didn't know that! i'll talk to both. was the gracious answer

-jamie

and again! the lucky boy! this time from a girl.

weasley-

i know we hate each other but give me a chance to explain myself? broom closet at 9 tomorrow ? it trailed off to something that y/n didn't even want to think about.

k.o

fuck off. i don't fucking like you, i like someone else, ffs.

was the reply as y/n laughed and made sure to give the note back to fred.

it wasn't everyday someone confessed to you, right?

she underlined all the words that simply weren't legible to ask fred about.

and aNOTHER ONE?? how did this boy have so many admirers? y/n had received 0 love letters from any boy, let alone people of the same gender. you knew you were good with the ladies (and the gentlemen) when everyone sent you these letters.

dearest frederick-

it droned quite sweetly on about him and loving him and the writing was really magnificent.

margaret perrer

hi marg

i'm really really sorry. you seem like such a nice person, and it's not you, it's me. i, however, have a friend who really adores you: kenneth. he'll be an amazing friend and maybe more.

i also already am interested in another girl, so it really isn't you. thank you for your beautiful letter, hopefully we can be friends!

fred

oh he was very nice. feeling like she had overstepped the boundaries, she put them aside, discovering more and more but putting them all in a stack. she felt slightly insecure, especially when they all looked relatively neW?? the perfume on the flowers still smelled fresh?? who was this guy?

she sighed, finishing her read through and being thoroughly impressed with the sheer quality of the notes.

but there were around 100 words she had underlined. she skipped down into the great hall where she spotted two gingers. as soon as one (she couldn't see which one) saw her, he got up, whispered to the other something, and left.

when she approached the one that was left behind, she saw it was george.

"hi georgie!" she greeted him and thrust the papers into his hand, "where's fred?"

george shrugs, "left, for a date or something."

"oh, okay, could you translate these for me, the underlined words?" if y/n was disappointed, she didn't show it.

"oh yeah, sure, his handwriting's rubbish, isn't it."

"yes it is, i can barely read half of it."

george finished scribbling words next to the underlined ones.

"oh! and give these back to him? i'm pretty sure he dropped them in, probably got mixed up." she gave him the pile of letters, now neatly bundled in rope she had found.

"oh, yeah sure," george smirked, "of course."

"nice, well that's it, thanks for the help!"

"anything else?"

"tell fred good luck."

"right, right, mhm."

"yea."

once she'd left, george took out his walkie talkie.

"got that, freddie?"

"crystal clear."

"you're pining, pffft, hahahahah," george smirked as fred sighed.

"it didn't even work?"

"which plan?"

"the one to drop the letters in."

"i'm pretty sure she read like two, she didn't seem that disappointed?"

"exactly."

"you're an idiot. just tell her."

"but that's boringggg."

"well drop the hints then, merlin fred you're terrible at this."

"i haven't dated a billion girls like you!"

"then learn how to date my goodness."

"true."

"come fucking back."

"hickies or no?"

"eh go for it. i wanna see her reaction and then we can decide whether she likes you or not."

fred strided handsomely in, neck littered with little hickies and his top had two buttons open, freckles and pale broad shoulders showing.

george rolled his eyes, muttering, "drama queen," as he subtlely watched y/n. she managed not to look so surprised, her eyes widening then looking down quickly at her hands.

he would have thought she felt nothing for his twin if a light pink had not dusted over her face and if angie had not nudged her with a concerned look on her face.

y/n was wondering what the hell happened, disappointment rising slowly in her.

"okay, she's into you," george whispered as fred began removing the spell, leaving the unbuttoned shirt unbuttoned.

"cool beans."

"oh and she gives these back," george smirked.

"oh look at how she bundled it! so adorable georgie!"

"you're disgusting."

y/n hurried to the library at 6pm. she had heard the book she had waited for was finally available.

as she settled down with it, a paper aeroplane hit her.

"ahh!" she screamed as she caught it.

it read:

forbidden forest, 8pm.

huh? was this meant for her? it was in neat handwriting and on the smoothest parchment, with a single flower that smelt like fresh rain.

[robininthelabyrinth]

for the prompts: NMJ/JC - Everyone with a functioning brain cell can see that JC just needs someone to tell him he’s doing a good job. And if WWX isn’t stepping up? Well, NMJ definitely will. (Preferably smut and/or fluff) Thank you! ❤️

Compliments - ao3

It started in anger, out of spite.

Traditionally, the world took this to be a bad thing, but in all honesty the vast majority of projects in the Nie sect were started that way – they inherited fiery tempers and spiteful personalities from their ancestors along with their saber cultivation traditions – and it didn’t always turn out badly. There were any number of buildings, techniques, or technological innovations in the Unclean Realm that had started life as a furious fuck you to someone and only turned into something worthwhile about halfway through, once the person involved had calmed down enough to think about what they were doing, realize they were already committed, and then shrug and carry on forward because there was no point in stopping a charge midway.

What Nie Mingjue meant was: there was precedent.

He liked to think it started with Jiang Fengmian, but if Nie Mingjue was being honest with himself, it started back in the Unclean Realm when Nie Huaisang had told him, quite casually over dinner, that he thought that the female cultivator in his class was very pretty and that he’d be happy to marry her.

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue had said, very intelligently. “Huaisang, you’re seven.”

Nie Huaisang had not seen the problem. Instead, he explained very forthrightly that it was only right that he start thinking early on about his marriage, as getting married and having children would be his great contribution to the sect on account of being useless good-for-nothing unfit for anything else –

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue said. “Who told you that?!”

Nie Huaisang claimed he had deduced it.

Nie Mingjue claimed that Nie Huaisang was full of bullshit, and also that he wasn’t good-for-nothing even if he wasn’t good at saber, and anyway even if he was a total good-for-nothing he was still Nie Mingjue’s good-for-nothing and no one had better say a single damn word against him or Nie Mingjue would bite them.

“I meant stab them!” he explained, far too late; Nie Huaisang was already rolling around laughing to the point of tears. “I have a saber. I can stab people! I’m actually very scary, you know!”

Nie Huaisang hadn’t believed him one bit and had carried on, seemingly at peace and forgetting everything, but Nie Mingjue had gone seeking advice from all of his elders and counselors and the more dependable senior disciples of his sect, abruptly terrified that he was permanently damaging Nie Huaisang by raising him the wrong way or something. Didn’t children need encouragement at that age? Weren’t they all young and tender peaches liable to be bruised at the slightest glance or young sprouts that needed to be sheltered from the harsh wind lest they grow up crooked?

Everyone assured him that children were hardier than they appeared, flexible and capable of bouncing back from just about anything. He'd pressed, though, pointing out that even the most flexible wood would eventually form a crack in the face of a vicious hurricane, and in the end they'd admitted that it was better to avoid applying too much pressure at too young an age, that a child squeezed too hard or not hard enough might develop neuroses that would hinder them in the future.

They mostly tried not to look at him when they said that, presumably thinking to themselves that Nie Mingjue was little more than a child himself and had already been subject to the worst pressures possible, which would undoubtedly result in who knows what future issues, but he hadn’t paid that part any mind. As far as he was concerned, his life was already a loss – he had sworn to take revenge for his father, to make that ancient monster Wen Ruohan pay with his life for what he had done and furthermore he'd sworn to pay back the blood debt in full before any of that burden passed to Nie Huaisang.

Letting Nie Huaisang grow up happy – that was what mattered.

Letting him be insulted when Nie Mingjue wasn’t looking played no part in that plan. If Nie Huaisang were going to be insulted, let it be by outsiders who he wouldn’t need to care about! Within their Nie sect, at minimum, he should be doted upon and honored, or else those responsible would have to explain themselves to Nie Mingjue.

Those dark thoughts still lingering in his mind, he had gone to the Lotus Pier for a discussion conference, and that, perhaps, was where it really started.

Rumor had already made the entire cultivation world aware that Jiang Fengmian had found the orphaned son of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, and that he had taken him into his home as his ward, allowing him to become a Jiang sect disciple – treating him almost as one of the family, even. That much was known, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Jiang Fengmian proudly introduced him or even more proudly showed him off, praising him to the high heavens.

What did come as a surprise was how little he praised his own son standing beside him, despite them being only a few days apart in age. It was as if Jiang Fengmian had simply forgotten that such a creature existed, much less that he had himself contributed to its spawning, and the constant looks of hope – invariably crushed – the child sent him made it clear that the present situation had been going on for some time.

Fuck you, Nie Mingjue thought, seeing red, seeing instead Nie Huaisang in his failed saber classes, struggling so desperately to keep up with the rest even though his body wouldn’t allow for it, being told he was useless and a good-for-nothing and fit for nothing but marriage. Fuck you, Jiang Fengmian.

He couldn’t say that, of course.

So instead he said, “Excellent stance,” to the child, who'd received the courtesy name Wanyin but seemed to be universally called Jiang Cheng. “Do you know the others in the set?”

Jiang Cheng, staring at him, very slowly nodded, and demonstrated them.

“Absolutely perfect,” Nie Mingjue said loudly, drawing attention to himself with his over-loud voice that everyone would automatically forgive on account on him being both a Nie and a young man. “You can see how hard you’ve worked at it, and it has paid off handsomely. You are very lucky in your son, Sect Leader Jiang.”

“…thank you,” Jiang Fengmian said, a little bemused at being interrupted. He’d been talking yet again about Wei Wuxian’s brilliance at picking up the sword again after years of living on the streets without practice, even though at the moment the smiling boy's admittedly impressive skills were still largely wild and undisciplined.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and said: “When exactly did you say the opening festivities would be starting?”

Jiang Fengmian had clearly forgotten about that in his enthusiasm, so he quickly hurried back to the actual subject at hand and the discussion conference was started in earnest.

It was almost enough to allow Nie Mingjue to forget the matter and put it behind him.

Or, it would have been, if only Jiang Fengmian hadn’t continued to insert praise for Wei Wuxian at every possible instance – it was as if he were the man’s first-born son, rather than another person’s child.

Irritated beyond belief, Nie Mingjue started complimenting Jiang Cheng every time Jiang Fengmian said something nice about Wei Wuxian, and he made sure to keep his compliments accurate: he was a hard worker, dedicated and sincere, thoughtful, clever, not overly arrogant…

“Wei Wuxian came up with his own ideas for a sword style already,” Jiang Fengmian claimed at one point. “You can see him on the training ground now, practicing it – take a look!”

Nie Mingjue picked up a stone and flicked it over with his fingers, making Wei Wuxian jump half a chi into the air and nearly fall on his ass.

“Weak foundation, and he over-commits,” he analyzed dryly, because it was true, and because no one else was saying it. He didn't make it any harsher than it had to be: he had nothing against the boy himself, of course; it was only that he knew from experience that it was much easier to be the one being complimented than the one not. “He’s got his head so high in the clouds that his feet are barely touching the ground – the weakest fierce corpse would knock him flat as a pancake with a childish style like that. He’d be better off sticking with orthodox or he’ll end up in real trouble one day.”

“Sect Leader Nie, really,” Jiang Fengmian said disapprovingly. “He’s only nine.”

“Old enough to pick up bad habits,” Nie Mingjue retorted. “Your son’s the same age and he’s as steady as a rock. If Jiang Cheng keeps going as he is, he’ll have a strong enough base to outlast the fiercest storm.”

“A rock has no imagination,” Jiang Fengmian said, and was he actually arguing that his son was inferior? Out loud, in front of outsiders? Did the man have no shame? “Mingjue, you’re young, but you must know that my Jiang sect prizes freedom and creativity as the highest virtue –”

“Would you rather build a house using a firework or a foundation stone?” Nie Mingjue asked, doing his best not to outwardly bristle at the condescendingly intimate use of his name by someone who might be technically his elder but legally his equal. “Tell me, Fengmian, does your Jiang sect’s acclaimed ‘freedom’ only allow for people to be as fluid as the river and not as steady as the earth?”

Jiang Fengmian faltered, clearly not knowing how to answer that.

Nie Mingjue raised his hands in a sarcastic salute: “As the leader of a sect whose style is based on a grounded foundation, I would be very happy if you would educate me in your wisdom. No doubt my peers would benefit as well.”

Perhaps it was at that point that Jiang Fengmian realized that his words could be misinterpreted as an insult to all the sects whose styles were less free-flowing than the Jiang – just about all of them except for maybe the Lan and their subsidiary sects, given their preference for techniques modeled on the wind over the water – and moreover that this was a discussion conference, where every word was political, and that a great deal of people were glaring balefully at him. He hastily moved the conversation onwards, and left the subject of his sons for another day.

Later that evening, Madame Yu came over to where Nie Mingjue was nursing a bowl of very fine wine that he didn’t especially feel like consuming. Before he could start worrying about the Purple Spider’s intentions, she said, voice stiff, “Your words regarding my son are too kind. His skills are still inferior; he has a great deal of progress yet to be made.”

“He’s only nine,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling mortified that she’d noticed his little temper tantrum, which he had belatedly realized was probably extremely obvious. “Anyway, I wasn't lying. He has a good foundation; he’ll be a fearsome cultivator one day, there’s no doubt. I only said what I saw.”

“You didn’t comment about Wei Wuxian,” she said. “You must have noticed his genius.”

“Geniuses don’t need to be praised overmuch,” Nie Mingjue said. He himself had been termed a genius by his teachers, and he’d hated every single moment of it – couldn’t he just be good at things without having people fall all over themselves to compliment him? He’d enjoyed it at the start, but after a while it had started to wear on him; he was expected to be a genius in all things, and being simply ordinary was suddenly seen as failing. “It’s the ones that have to work hard that do, or else they’ll be discouraged…comparing someone to another person’s child works as a spur to a certain extent, but after a while it loses its potency as a tool.”

Your husband is a fucking idiot, he didn’t say. It’s his own son! How could he speak like that about him? Shouldn’t he be holding him in his palms like a gentle flame, protecting him from the wind and rain? How can he bear to scold his son when he hasn't shown that the scolding is meant for his benefit?

“Perhaps,” Madame Yu said, but it was clear on her face that she wasn’t about to start taking parenting advice from a half-grown sprout like Nie Mingjue. “Nevertheless, your words were kind.”

She swept away after that, much to his relief. He shook his head and daydreamed about a magic tool that would make this whole nightmarish experience go by that much quicker.

In the end, it went by at the same speed it always did. It could have ended there, but Nie Mingjue kept up the habit of blatantly complimenting Jiang Cheng in future sect conferences as well, if only because it clearly irritated Jiang Fengmian – less because Nie Mingjue was praising his son and more because it was so obviously meant as an indirect critique of Jiang Fengmian’s skills as a parent or sect leader, and moreover it reminded all the other sects of that unfortunate interchange and made them less inclined to listen to him – and of course, because, well, once you’ve started a charge, you had to finish it even if you came to your senses about halfway through.

He made sure to keep it proportionate, of course, since there was nothing worse than false praise. He didn’t really mean anything by it, other than the half-formed thought that someone ought to be doing it – that the boy should know that someone looked at him and Wei Wuxian and remembered to praise him first. Nie Mingjue praised Wei Wuxian too, of course, since the boy often deserved it; it was only that he made a particular point not to forget about Jiang Cheng, either.

(He also made sure the other sect leaders saw how well the technique could be used to fluster Jiang Fengmian, an intrusion into his personal life that could be masked in perfect politeness, and several of them picked up the same tact, though less consistently than Nie Mingjue – Sect Leaders Jin and Wen, naturally, always looking for a weakness, but interestingly enough also Lan Qiren, who was normally above such petty maneuvers. Possibly he was actually just complimenting Jiang Cheng because he sincerely approved of him.)

He didn’t think much of it.

Nie Mingjue didn’t think much of it during the other discussion conferences, or when he came to the Cloud Recesses to pick up Nie Huaisang, who had – amazingly – actually managed to pass this time, although the expression on Lan Qiren’s face suggested the pass might have more to do with the other sect leader’s desire to never see Nie Huaisang haunt his classroom ever again.

“You know what, don’t tell me. Tell me….hm…how did Jiang Wanyin do?” Nie Mingjue asked, hand over his eyes as if it could forestall the headache. “He’s a bright boy, and knows how to put his mind to something when he wants. Tell me about him instead, it’ll be less depressing.”

“He’s very bright,” Lan Qiren agreed. “Very thoughtful, and very thorough. He sometimes errs towards conservatism out of fear of giving the wrong answer, but that’s just a matter of confidence; his thinking is very good. He’s very clear-sighted as long as the matter is logical, rather than emotional.”

“No surprise,” Nie Mingjue grunted. “He’ll be a sect leader worthy of respect, in his time.”

When he’s rid of that father of his dragging him down, he thought ungraciously, and he saw Lan Qiren bob his head in a sharp nod of unspoken agreement.

“All right,” he said. “I’m adequately fortified now. Tell me about Huaisang.”

Lan Qiren gave him a look of profound sympathy.

It wasn’t until much later, during the Sunshot Campaign, that it was first called to his attention – by Jiang Cheng himself, oddly enough.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he hissed, having stayed behind after one of their meetings.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Doing – what?”

“You – you said – about me…!”

Nie Mingjue tried to recall what he’d said during the meeting just now. “That you – were doing an excellent job while facing much higher level of obstacles than everyone else?” he hazarded, because he had said something like that. “Or was it the bit about how if any of them had needed to rebuild their sect and fight at the same time, we’d all be doomed because they couldn’t multitask for shit?”

Yeah, it was probably that one.

“I didn’t mean any offense by referencing what happened to your sect,” he said, hoping to explain. “It was only –”

“I didn’t take offense,” Jiang Cheng mumbled. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but – it happened, everyone knows that it happened, not talking about it isn’t going to make it not have happened. That’s not what I meant…why do you keep saying such nice things about me?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Because they’re true?”

Jiang Cheng’s cheeks flushed red. “You’ve always said nice things about me. Ever since I was a little kid – every time you saw me, at the discussion conferences, or the Cloud Recesses, or even in your letters to my father…”

He had in fact done that.

“I just want to know why. Is it – my father’s not around, you can’t be doing it just to piss him off, even though I know that was part of it. Why me?”

Nie Mingjue coughed a little, having not realized that Jiang Cheng had noticed. Or possibly even overheard, in regards to the Cloud Recesses. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of the other person’s child,” he said, and Jiang Cheng nodded his head sharply, clearly thinking of Wei Wuxian. “You’re Huaisang’s.”

“Me?” Jiang Cheng seemed unduly vulnerable when he asked. “You compare him – to me?”

“It’s amazing he tolerated you at the Cloud Recesses,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. In fact, his brother had all but declared war on Jiang Cheng in absentia on account of all Nie Mingjue’s comments, only for his first letter home from the Cloud Recesses that year to be I see why you like him! He’s cute! A perfect match for you! because he’d apparently decided that Nie Mingjue had a crush on the boy.

Which he certainly hadn’t – at least not when he’d been that age, anyway. Jiang Cheng had grown up to embody every single one of the compliments Nie Mingjue had paid him when he’d been younger, especially with the maturity and natural aura of command that came to him after his personal tragedy.

“But why…you knew Wei Wuxian about as well as you knew me.”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “And that would have helped Huaisang how, exactly? If I wanted to compare him with someone who picked things up the first time they saw it, I wouldn’t need to go outside the Nie sect for that – I was also considered a genius when I was young. It’s no failing to be born without a vast and unending natural talent; Huaisang’s issue has always been his unwillingness to put in the effort.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him.

“Anyway, your father was so blinded by his adoration for Wei Wuxian that he overlooked your merits, which are different but no less impressive,” Nie Mingjue added. “As someone who was trying to figure out how to raise a child, it irritated me; I thought someone ought to make it clear to you that you were seen.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice strangely hoarse. “Yes, you – you succeeded.”

He paused for a moment, meeting Nie Mingjue’s eyes intently, and then abruptly said, “I’ll be leaving,” and dashed out.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure if that meant he should stop or not. Jiang Cheng had said he wasn’t offended…anyway, it was a fixed habit by now. He’d been doing it for over half his life! He couldn’t stop that easily! It would be like trying to stop his temper, or a charge – there was nothing for it.

Jiang Cheng would just have to live with a few compliments.

“Wow, you’re an idiot,” Nie Huaisang said when he told him about the incident, months later while he was lying in bed, recovering from the disaster that had been the end of the war. “I’ll fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“I’m going to tell him you’re dying,” Nie Huaisang decided.

“You’re going to do what?!”

“Stay in bed, da-ge! Doctor’s orders!”

The Nie sect chief doctor was an extremely terrifying person. Nie Mingjue stayed in bed.

Some time later, Jiang Cheng stormed in, face pale.

“Huaisang’s a rotten liar and I’m going to be fine,” Nie Mingjue said at once.

Jiang Cheng stopped mid-storm, and abruptly deflated. “Really?”

“Really. I would’ve stopped him, but I’m stuck in bed for the moment.”

Jiang Cheng took a seat next to him. “That sounds serious. You shouldn’t underestimate war wounds, especially given your sect’s tendency towards qi deviations...”

“Compassionate as well,” Nie Mingjue teased. “I’ll have to add that to the rotation of compliments.”

Jiang Cheng flushed red. “You’re…planning on continuing?”

“For the rest of my life, however short it might be,” Nie Mingjue said, because he was an honest person, even when it was inconvenient. He was going to explain about the habit, and the concept of stopping mid-charge, but he didn’t manage to start before Jiang Cheng grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up into a kiss.

After that, he figured that maybe explaining that part of it wasn’t necessary. He might be slow on the uptake, but he wasn’t actually stupid.

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter III

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N:ENJOY!!!!

Jungkook shone.  He really, really did. 

You watched him from across the room - the way he drew people in like a magnet.  He was stunning.

You knew he could tell you were watching him.  The way his eyes flickered to yours, and the side of his mouth pulled up slightly. 

Perhaps he enjoyed the power he had over you.  After all, you were his wife.  It was only normal that he wanted you to be attracted to him… Wasn’t it?

You couldn’t ponder on that thought.  Couldn’t let yourself think about Jungkook wanting you to love him.  It was too much - too overwhelming.

You turned from him quickly, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in almost one gulp.  You cringed at the unfamiliar taste - and the burn at back of your throat - but you needed a distraction.  From your husband, of all people.

Your life really was ridiculous. 

“Y/N?” 

You turned quickly, snapped out of your reverie by the sound of your name. 

Kim Namjoon stared back at you, a small smile on his face.

“Namjoon,” You relaxed a little, lips splitting into a smile of your own, “Hi.  How are you?”

“I’m fine,” He gestured at the champagne flute in your hands, “You’re going to snap that.”

You looked down noticing your grip was like a vice and gasped. 

“Shit.”  You loosened your fingers and blushed, “That would’ve been embarrassing.”

He gave you a sympathetic look, “Tough week?”

You groaned, setting the glass to one side and shaking your head, “Tough month.” 

Namjoon and you were fairly close.  The two of you had grown up together - along with Nayeon and Jungkook - and you felt you could genuinely trust him.  He was the only member of the Special Seven - apart from Jungkook of course - that you felt you had a real friendship with.

Namjoon was different to other made men.

He was intelligent and grounded.  He didn’t act on impulse or throw himself into situations he couldn’t handle. 

Namjoon was like the centre of gravity that Bangtan desperately needed.  

You liked that about him.

“It’s not your doting husband, is it?” He asked, raising a sarcastic brow.

You assumed he knew the truth about your marriage - even down to the fact Jungkook had no romantic feelings towards you.  The two of them were close - brothers, really - and you imagined they shared everything with one another. 

“It’s not his fault,” You answered, though you weren’t sure you totally believed it, “We were both… Forced into this.”

“But you love him.”  The words weren’t questioning - they were a statement.  Namjoon always was so intuitive.

“How did you - I  mean… What are you talking about?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Anybody with eyes can tell you love him Y/N - that you have loved him for years.” 

Something inside you twinged.

It wasn’t that you cared that other people knew.  You didn’t.  Love wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

It was just…. Well Jungkook knowing that other people knew.

Would he care?

And at this point… Did it even really matter?

“It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel the same way,” You said eventually, deciding it wasn’t even worth it to deny Namjoon’s accusations, “That’s just life.” “Jungkook is an idiot,” Namjoon wrinkled his nose, “He wouldn’t know love or commitment if it whacked him in the fucking face.  He’s spent his entire life dropping women’s panties and not sticking around to get to know them.  He thinks he’s incapable of anything more.”

You raised a brow, “I think he just doesn’t want anything more.”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon shook his head, “He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“And you do?” You replied, smiling a little at the way Namjoon’s brow furrowed into a frown. 

He seemed genuinely annoyed at your husband’s behaviour.

“I know he’s too much of a pussy to even open himself up to the idea of being with you for real,” He shrugged, hands reaching for his pockets, “Even told him so myself.” “Really?  And what did he say?  I’m sure that went down a treat…”

“Told me to fuck off of course.  But what else did I expect from the ever eloquent Jeon Jungkook?”  You laughed at that and so did Namjoon, shaking his head at his younger friend’s apparent stupidity, “Honestly.  I know Jungkook.  And I know that deep down inside, all he really wants is to be loved, Y/N.  And I think you could help him realise that.”

His words warmed you down to the tips of your toes.

“You think so?”

When he nodded, you felt something in your chest expand and lighten.

For the first time since you’d found out about your engagement, you felt a little better about things.

If Namjoon thought Jungkook had the capability to come around.. Then maybe things weren’t so bleak.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly, “Thank you.  For speaking to me.  It really has helped.” “Just being honest,” He shrugged, “Thought you deserved to know my opinion, I guess.” 

“You always have been the smartest Bangtan boy.”

A throat cleared from somewhere to your life and you both turned to look, lips lifting unconsciously into a smile at the sight of your husband.  But Jungkook wasn’t smiling.  In fact, his mouth was pulled taut into a firm line.

And he was… Glaring at Namjoon.

“What are you two talking about?” Jungkook asked, hard eyes turning on you.

You felt a little intimidated by the way his gaze seemed to sear straight through you. 

“Just catching up, Jungkookie.”  You watched your husband cringe at the nickname that rolled off Namjoon's tongue, “Don’t keep her locked away for so long again.”

“I’ll try not to Joonie.”  His eyes were still pitch black, “You ready to go, Y/N?  I’m getting tired.”

You arched a brow at his odd behaviour. 

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was jealous.

But there was absolutely no way Jungkook would feel jealous or possessive over you… Was there?   

“Okay.”  You nodded swiftly and turned to Namjoon, “It was nice speaking to you Joon.  I hope we can catch up again soon.” His eyes were soft and he smiled, “You can count on that.”

You didn’t even realise Jungkook’s hand had slipped into yours until he was pulling you away from the crowd almost roughly.  Namjoon gave you a little wave and a knowing wink, and you shook your head, confused by your husband’s sudden shift in behaviour.

There was no way he was actually jealous, was there?

Not after knowing the way you felt about him.

Not after pushing you away himself and making it clear he wasn’t interested in a real marriage.

No.  You shook your head.

He must just be tired, like he’d said.

When the two of you made your way outside, you finally tugged your husband’s hand and forced him to look at you.

“What?” The word was sharp and angry.

You flinched, “Are you… Okay?”

“Just peachy.  Enjoyed your little chat with Namjoon?”

You followed him down the marble staircase, towards the garage.

“Wait.  Is that why you’re acting like this?”  You were speaking to Jungkook’s back - why was he walking so damn fast? - as you struggled to keep up, “Because I was talking to Namjoon?”

Your husband decided not to answer as he grabbed the keys wordlessly from the valet and continued making his way towards the car.  You trailed after him, feeling dejected and hurt by his sudden sourly attitude. 

What right did he have to be angry at you when all you had been doing was talking to a friend?

“Jungkook!” 

His name flew out of you angrily, just as the two of you reached the car.

He froze for a moment, and then turned, eyes hard like two glass balls of obsidian black.

You finally caught up with him, confused and hurt at the way he was treating you.  It made absolutely no sense.  

“Why are you mad at me?” “I’m not mad.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously you are.  I’m not stupid.  So why are you mad?” “I’m not mad,” He answered unlocking the car and - despite his apparent fury - opening the passenger door for you, “I just find it sweet that you and Namjoon seem to get on so well.”

He slammed his own car door shut and your fingers twitched as you clicked in your seatbelt.

“You’re being stupid.” He turned to you again, his eyes wide, “Sorry what?  This coming from the woman that basically pissed on me in front of Jihyo to mark her territory?” Ok.  Now you were mad.

“How the fuck can you even compare the two?”  You couldn’t believe how irrational he was being, “She was literally all over you.” “So was Namjoon!”

“Oh my god.”  You tugged a hand through your hair, “You’re an idiot.” “I’m an idiot am I?  For finding it uncomfortable that my wife and my best friend spent the evening flirting right in front of me?” “Why do you even care?”  Your eyes were watering with angry tears but you bit them back, “You made it very clear that you aren’t interested in making this marriage work the way I want it to.  So what does it matter if I flirt with Namjoon?” You knew maybe your words weren’t the wisest.  Perhaps you should’ve assured him that the reality was all you’d spoken to Namjoon about was how much you loved your oblivious husband.

But he’d hurt you.  You sort of wanted to hurt him back.

“Right,” He seethed, “So it’s not alright for me to have an affair, but totally fine for you to?”

Your heart clenched.

“Oh my god.  Oh MY GOD.  Jungkook what the fuck?  We were talking about you for god’s sake.  Okay?!”  You pinched the bridge of your nose and felt the tears catch on the edge of your fingers, “What the hell?  Why would I ever cheat on you?  Not only am I completely in love with you but Namjoon is your best friend!  Jesus.”

The words were like lava spilling from your mouth, hardening everything they touched.

You couldn’t take it back.  It was all out there in the open.

Completely in love with you, you’d said.

Shit.

You squeezed your eyes shut, counting to ten.  Waiting for something.  Anything.

After a moment, your husband cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Your pulse jumped.

“What?” You opened your eyes and when you looked at Jungkook, he was already regarding you with something… Different.  It wasn’t the same affection he usually regarded you with.  It was… Deeper.  You didn’t know what it was.

But it sort of scared you.  In a good way.

“I said I’m sorry.  You’re right.  I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”  He shook his head and tugged a hand through his hair, “I was...Jealous.”

The word fell like a stone between the two of you.

“What?”  Your voice was like the wind, almost, “Why would you be jealous?” He smiled - small and gently - and shrugged, “You’re my wife.  That means something, doesn’t it?  So I don’t - I wasn’t thinking straight.  I reacted badly.  Forgive me.”

Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest. 

“So it was a possessive thing,” You answered, licking your bottom lip.  Your husband’s eyes flickered to your mouth, “You wanted to stake your claim on me.”

He shook his head, “No.  It was more than that.”  He clicked his tongue, “I was jealous that you weren’t with me.  He made you laugh.  I hated that.”

Now you were sure you must be dreaming. 

There was no way your husband was saying these things.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, “What does that mean?” He shook his head, eyes searching your face before they fell on your mouth again.

“I don’t know.”

He leaned in slightly and you held your breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?”  You whispered - nerves wracking through your body hotly.  

It felt like the world stood still for a moment.  And then Jungkook’s eyes softened like butter. “Yeah.  I am.  If that’s okay?”

You nodded stiffly. And then he kissed you.

Your body hummed to life at the contact eyes falling closed immediately as you allowed your husband to bundle you up in his arms.  It was uncomfortable of course - cramped in the front seat of the car - but Junkook picked you up and pulled you towards him, anyway.

You giggled as your dress caught on the gear shift, and your husband laughed, pressing his forward to yours, settling you into his lap.

“You look beautiful,” He told you honestly, eyes earnest, “Did I tell you that already?” You shook your head - breathless and hot all over.

Jungkook - your Jungkook - was kissing you.

He was kissing you.  And he seemed to be really enjoying himself.

“Well you do,” He said decidedly, pressing his lips to your collarbone as he pushed the strap of your dress further down your arm, “You look beautiful.” Your heart caught in your chest, and it felt almost like you were on fire.

Everything Jungkook’s lips touched tingled, and even though you knew this was actually happening, it still felt like some kind of vivid dream.

“Thank you,” You whispered breathlessly, not knowing what else to say.

Jungkook smiled softly at your words, his mouth moving towards your collarbone and pressing kisses against the skin there. 

“I love these freckles,” He groaned, tracing the dots with the tip of his nose, “So cute.” Your heart flipped and you sighed, “Thank you.” 

He pulled away a little and pressed his forward to yours, chuckling softly.

“That’s all you have to say?”

You felt dazed as you stared back at him, “Huh?”

“Thank you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your brow, “It’s all you have to say, it seems.”

“I’m a little…” You cleared your throat and felt a shiver crawl up your spine as Jungkook tucked some hair behind your ear, “Lost for words.”

Your husband smiled - self-satisfied and a little proud, “C’mere.”

He leaned towards you and once again you were swept up by his kisses.  It felt as though you were spinning out of axis - but it was so good.  Nothing had ever come close to this and you told yourself that if this was it - if this was the only time Jungkook was going to kiss you - then you were going to make it count.

You brought your shaky hands up to his chest, intending to push his jacket off his shoulders, but losing your nerve along the way.  Instead you tightened your grip on the material of his blazer.  You felt him smirk against your lips.

“Want me to take it off?” He asked, after a moment, pulling away so he could search your face for an answer.

You expected him to be cocky - smug - but instead his gaze was just questioning.  Your heart twisted. 

“Yeah,” You nodded furiously, “Please.”

He smiled again, and did as you’d told him to, removing the jacket and throwing it somewhere to your left.  You continued kissing him with fervor - making up for your lack of experience with enthusiasm - and after a while you felt his lips venture towards your throat… 

And then lower to the valley of your breasts.

And - for some reason unbeknownst to you - you froze.

Jungkook took that as a cue to stop and pulled away, a dark brow arched.

“Sorry.”  His hair was all out of place, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I liked it.”  You assured him, feeling your heartbeat pulling out of your chest, “I just… This is my first time doing anything like…. This.”

“Right.”  He still seemed unconvinced.

“But I’m enjoying myself.  I was enjoying myself.  All of it.” 

Jungkook’s eyes were warmer than you’d ever seen them.  He pushed your hair out of your face and bit his bottom lip.

“We should probably stop anyway.”  

Your heart fell. 

“Oh.”

“We’re in the front seat of a car - anybody could walk by,” He added on, eyes following your expression carefully, “Not exactly a good idea.”

“Okay,” You nodded, suddenly realising the position you were in.

Jungkook had pushed the straps of your dress down your arm - exposing more of your cleavage than you probably were comfortable showing in public - your hair was a mess, your lips were puffy and your make up was probably all smudged.

You made to climb off your husband’s lap, before Jungkook grabbed the back of your head gently.  He forced you to look at him.

“I was enjoying myself, too.  For the record.”

And then he kissed you again, once, soundly - on the mouth.

God. 

You really did love him.

//

The days after your tryst in the car were filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook had driven the both of you home in almost complete silence - save for the murmuring of the radio - and when you climbed into bed that night, the only thing he offered you was an arm to cuddle into.

You’d taken it of course - gladly - and every night since then the two of you moved towards one another as soon as the bedside lamp clicked off.

But it wasn’t enough for you.

And apart from night time snuggling - nothing much had changed about your relationship.

But after having felt Jungkook’s lips on your own - felt the way his kisses seared straight through you - you wanted that feeling again.  And despite what he’d said about enjoying himself… You wondered if maybe that was just to spare your feelings.

Perhaps he’d realised all at once how little he was attracted to you.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t made a move since.

The thought caused your throat to clog up, and your heart to clench, so you pushed it all back down, trying not to think about it.

Instead you found another pet project - this one a pair of dark blue jeans that Jungkook had ripped a hole through.  You’d heard him complaining to his butler, Minhyuk, about how they were his favourite pair, and you wanted to fix them for him.

You sat in the same armchair you always did - tucked into the corner of the master bedroom - and listened to the radio mumbling gently in the background.  It was some stupid cheesy love song, but still the lyrics caused the same feelings you tried so very hard to push back down, to bubble up.

A figure in the doorway paused your actions and you looked up.

It was your husband.  His eyes were unreadable.

“Jungkook,” You smiled softly, “Hi.”

You couldn’t hide your content at seeing him - could never hide how happy he made you - and you resigned yourself to stop trying.

He didn’t say a word.  Instead he walked over to you carefully and fingered the material of the jeans.

“Oh.”  You laughed gently, “I just heard you talking about them the other day.  Thought I could pull my weight around here.”

Your movements had stopped, but Jungkook’s big hand came to rest over your own.

He bent down so that his face was level with yours.

“You didn’t have to do that.”  His eyes were like two balls of fire now, melting you from the inside out.

You felt your bottom lip tremble, “I know.”

And then his mouth was on yours.  He took the jeans out of your hand and set them to one side, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

You giggled a little, and when Jungkook pulled away to watch you laugh, he couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

“You’re so…”  He didn’t finish the sentence, instead leading you over to the bed and laying you down.

His eyes were questioning as he played with the hem of your t-shirt, and without a second thought you lifted your arms, letting him pull it over your head.  It was embarrassing of course.

The first time Jungkook would see you in underwear and you were wearing the most unflattering beige bra.  But he didn’t seem to mind.

He helped you unhook the bra, and when your hands came to cover your breasts, he stopped you.

“Let me see them.  Please.”  His eyes were hot and you felt like you were suffocating almost.

You nodded wordlessly and pulled your arms down, watching as Jungkook took in your naked torso.  

“Fuck.  So beautiful.”  He whispered, leaning down and pressing his mouth against your breasts. 

You arched against him, feeling as though you were going to explode just from that one touch, and Jungkook smiled, “So sensitive, too.”

His lips moved to your nipple, and he sucked gently, watching you attentively.  His body was completely taut - waiting for your reactions - and when you moaned wantonly he smirked.

“Fuck,” You whispered and your husband clicked his tongue teasingly.

“Such profanity.”  He smirked and tugged your trousers down slowly, “Guess we’ll have to clean your mouth out with soap, Angel.” The nickname was like a surge of warmth, straight to your core.  He’d barely touched you and already you were panting like you could no longer take it.

“Please Jungkook,” You begged, not even knowing what you were begging for, “Please.” “Alright, shhh, shhh.  I’ll give you what you want baby,” His lips played with the hem of your panties, and after a moment he pulled those down too, “C’mere.” And then his mouth was on you and it felt like time itself had stood still.  You arched your back almost completely off the bed - and if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s steadying hands on your thighs you might have melted to the ground right then.

He licked at you diligently, and you found yourself winding tighter and tighter like a coil about to break from the pressure.

“Oh god… Oh god…”

His eyes bore straight through yours, and you felt like you might pass out from the intensity.  

“That’s it,” He whispered, removing his mouth and using his hands instead, “Cum for me Angel.”

And finally, a wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you.  It was so strong you thought you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

Jungkook coaxed you through your climax, and when you finally came down from your high - your bones like jelly - he climbed up your body and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“A thank you,” He smiled boyishly, “For the jeans.”

Your eyes were round and wide as you stared up at him, “But don’t you want-” 

“Nope.  Don’t need it.”

Jungkook pulled you under the covers, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you towards his chest. 

“But  Jungkook-”

“Sleep Angel.”  A soft kiss was pressed to your forehead, “We’ve got plenty of time for everything else.”

And in that heart-wrenching moment you realised that Jeon Jungkook not only owned your heart - he owned your body, mind and soul too.

“Okay,” You whispered, pressing a kiss against the firm plane of his chest, “Goodnight.” 

That night, you slept like a baby.

//

[serenawitchwriter]

BNHA Fusion (LOV/Deku)

shigideku

oh boy

both have been deeply wronged by society

unstable but also instantly aware that they’re more compatible than either is comfortable with

insane, muttering, constantly arguing with them-self

black curls that’s longer the deku’s hair normally is. scarred so badly. but decent skin. eye bags, big green eyes. Mikumo vibes

twitchy hands, will scratch anywhere, plays with lip, constantly writing. hands are never still

wears one fingered gloved so he doesn’t decay everything constantly

a genius, master of planning and deconstruction. take the moral limiters of izuku and he could end any hero quirkless

has a level of morality but it’s hard to define. totally down for crime most of the time, loves fighting, but doesn’t target kids or civilians. has a lot clearer motives than shigaraki did alone

they are gonna take down the government probably

daddy issues x2

laughs like a crazy person, wide scary smile

traumatized, ptsd, anxiety, dissociates, ocd. babe has a lot of mental illnesses

plays video games to calm down

loves homemade food

a loner

paranoid

quirk is just... oof. like a nuke going off basically. so fucking destructive, and you know they know how to use it

hates everyone including them-self

self aware of their situation. recognized that they’re being used and targeted and manipulated. on both ends. Shigi sees how he’s being used by afo, Izu sees how the adults in his life have failed him

honestly kinda baby, they need fucking love

hero students and lov members would put aside differences to help them honestly. the world wouldn’t be okay with it, but their friends are loyal

not quite a villain anymore, but definitely not a hero. constantly has internal conflict over this. like they don’t want to give up on hero dreams times 2 but also recognize how utterly fucked society is and wants to tear it down. they’re so full of hate, but want to maintain hope just out of spite at this point

whatever the hell they’re doing they’re not giving up on it

has the power to reshape society and is going to fucking use it

i don’t need to tell you that they’re fucking terrifying

togodeku

obsessive x2

love heroes x2

long curly green hair worn in twin pony tails, 

short, decent sized chest, big red eyes, and a smile that’s too big. fangs. freckles. 

muscular but in a compact way

more stable than they should be

loves themselves.

in love with uraraka, but gets crushes on everyone else extremely easily. ura is their forever girl though

loves making and consuming fan content. a fangirl to a scary degree

an all might stan

naturally, also loves k-pop

no fashion sense, they wish they had it, but they don’t. probably just wearing t-shirts and jeans most of the time. is still kinda hot, but isn’t doing anything to play it up

will hunt you for sport

incredibly fast, loves running and chasing in general

bunny themed outfit still

changing into others is one of their passions. izu lowkey loves this quirk. they’re experts at mimicking others. izuku’s analysis skills makes them too good at this

feral x2

honestly just here for the lols

still wants to be a hero, but isn’t doing a good job of it

easily distracted

probably knits for some reason?

makes gifts for friends and crushes

way more dangerous than they’re letting on. too many people are underestimating them

cute as a button

dabideku

daddy issue x2

bitter as hell

black and white hair, curly. darker at the roots. 

keeps dabi’s scars. green eyes. tall and muscular, lots of piercings. most of Izuku’s details are lost in the scaring

coffee addict

self centered, has a lot of enemies. including endeavor and bakugou, and every middle school bully.

more empathetic though, can have friends and value them, just don’t piss him off because he will hold lifelong grudges

very good at switching back and forth between scary and threatening to cute and innocent. usually the innocence is mocking but it can read as genuine

a good actor in general, but a terrible liar

quirk is not doing him any favors, still has the feedback, but flaming tentacles gives him more control over the fire itself

reads a lot of comic books

a hypocrite

likes to dramatically point at things while shouting

loves solving mysteries and kinda wants to go down a sherlock holmes or batman route

is not pulling that off, maybe jason todd vibes at best

high key just a dramatic dork that’s too good at murder

chaotic neutral to chaotic good

talks too much

good at pissing people off

kinda deserves to get the shit beaten out of him, and i feel like bakugou can pull it off

twicedeku

neurotic

they love their friends so much though

oblivious as hell

like a genius in observation and knowing stuff, but a dumbass at applying that knowledge

would make a good information broker if they could learn to shut the hell up

are they basically deadpool? kinda.

short green hair, cut close to their head

long face, covered in scars, tallish, looks like an adult

pouts and cries easily

smartass

talks to himself x2 god help us

overpowered with his quirk. god help us

laughs at his own jokes

always hungry

winks at the fourth wall

has many stims and hobbies, hands are litterally never not doing something. he’s the kind of person you’ll glance away from, turn back, and find juggling.

we’re talking cat’s craddle, rubix cubes, instruments, puzzles, tearing up candy wrappers, painting his nails, braiding friendship bracelets. he is never still

directionless. lacks motivation

internalizes criticism really easily, to the point that he gets depressed and struggles to act

indecisive to a clinical degree

probably has and anxiety disorder but refuses to acknowledge it

is pretty fucking baby. protect him

spindeku

lol what a nerd

fanboy x2

cries easily. izuku’s habit of crying does not decrease

ultimate ride or die

still a lizard, mohawk is green instead of pink

mixed feelings on stain

searching for the ultimate person to stan. all might stays in their heart, but they want to be edgier

absolutely uses a sword. not the dumb one that spinner uses but it is still a buster sword that’s too large for them. they’re strong enough to swing it around like nothing, i’m picturing cloud from final fantasy’s sword. again they’re really nerdy

disillusioned with society and heroes. both are marked by discrimination and have recognized the failure of heroes and government. aren’t as bitter but determined to do something

sassy but not quite sarcastic

gives really good advice. the friend you go to to have an emotional breakdown

considering pursuing psychology more for this reason. realizes he can use the skill to help a lot of people

isn’t willing to give up fighting or using his sword though. he has an aesthetic

would get along fantastically with tokoyami

also the friend that feeds you. can’t cook very well but always has something on him to give you when he notices you haven’t eaten in a long time.

loves bubble tea

social anxiety, if it weren’t for the fact that he already had friends and a mission, he probably wouldn’t leave the house

surprisingly close to shigaraki, enough of a gamer to play with him, and even gets away with calling him out

(i’m debating how comfortable i am with fusing kids with adults. it seems weird to me, especially the bigger the age difference)

(masterlist)

[awkwxrdapple]

Fallen Angel (Part 1) - Peter Parker x reader

Request: Hi! I love your writing! I was hoping you could do a peter x reader where the reader gets badly hurt and captured and it takes a long time for the avengers and peter to find her and once they do, she is scared half to death, jumpy, nervous, and stays by Peter's side during pretty much everything. They are living in the avengers tower with everyone and since they are the youngest, Peter is particularly protective of her during her recovery. Thank you!

Word count: 1.6k 

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, light torture, injury, trauma (after reading if you think I should include any others please let me know thank you)

Part 1

Simultaneously, you removed your headphones and slammed the textbook shut in front of you. Your assignments were getting tiring. It wasn't that they were hard and you were struggling, it was just that after being part of the Avengers, doing calculus and algebra seemed too easy for you. You could do it easily, but after all that you had done and seen already in your life, you knew your time could be better spent. 

Being the youngest Avenger alongside Peter Parker was exciting. You felt unbelievably honoured to be given the opportunity to be part of a team that did wonderfully amazing things. You had made friends for life, and most especially so with Peter. When you had come to New York you were enrolled into the same school as Peter. Midtown High was a good school and you enjoyed it, it also meant spending more time with Peter even though you both lived in the Avengers Tower now. 

Lying back against your bed you realised you were hungry, you'd been studying for what felt like ages. 

Knowing you had nothing sweet that you wanted to eat in the tower you decided that a quick trip out would let you get what you needed. If you were going to carry on studying you were going to need all the help you could get. 

Grabbing your purse from your dresser, you wandered down the corridor to where Peter's room was. The door was slightly open but you knocked anyway and waited for his reply. 

"Hey, I was just going to go to the store, do you want anything?" 

He, like you had just been, was sitting on his bed with papers strewn around him. When he saw you he gave you a warm smile. Having Peter living with you in the Avengers tower was amazing. Peter really was your best friend and you trusted no one more in the world. 

"I'm ok, but thank you. What are you going for?"

"Chocolate, ice cream, cake, anything." You said. 

"Homework giving you a hard time too?"

"Is it that obvious?" You laughed before placing your hand on the door handle again. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye Y/N."

Taking the elevator it didn't take too long to get to the ground floor and out into the centre of New York. You knew there was a little grocery store a few blocks over that made homemade chocolate cake. 

Unknowing to you, a set of eyes were watching you leave the tower, cross the street and make your way down the sidewalk. It was busy, and you were tired. Your instincts were slower and less aware of your surroundings. The one set of eyes soon became two, then three, then four. You were blissfully unaware of the imminent danger you were about to find yourself in. 

Taking a swift left at the next building you passed, your face collided with a hard arm and sent you stumbling backwards. Jolted out of your oblivious state, you raised your guard and lunged to land a punch square into your attackers chest. They struck back, using their larger build to throw their weight towards you forcing you to the ground. The air was knocked out of your lungs. 

Kicking back up from underneath them you tried to force their body off you, but they were heavy, and armed. You could feel a gun strapped to their hip pressing into yours. Rapid footsteps were heard around you as more people wearing a similar black combat suit to your assailant emerged and began to hold you down. You continued to fight in any way you could but soon all your limbs were rendered useless. 

"You're coming with us. Don't try to resist." A low male voice spoke into your ear as a cloth was placed over your face, a strong smell evaded your nostrils and then you relaxed back into the concrete. 

+ + +

Upon waking, you found yourself cold, aching and stiff. Your head hung towards your chest and a dull throb emanated from your forehead and rang throughout your skull. Your hands were tied behind you back and placed behind a chair, with your legs also tied to the chair legs completely restricting all of your movement. 

Fear and panic flooded through you and your chest became horrifically tight. The room around you was incredibly dim, with the only light coming from a single dull light bulb above your head. Feeling your breathing become hastened you remembered your training.

Don't panic. Be calm. Assess the situation.

The situation looked bleak. There were no sounds to be heard so you couldn't even begin to work out where you were being held. You remembered the last memory of being free, but couldn't place the people from anyone or thing you had seen before. 

You weren't kept guessing for long as a door creaked open to your left and two figures entered the room. The door was roughly closed behind them and a click of the lock was distinctly heard. You nervously swallowed and waited for one of them to speak. 

"We hope you aren't too badly hurt, Y/N." One spoke and made his way over to you. His voice was calm, and in any other situation you would have mistaken him for a nice man. 

"How do you know my name?" You ignored what he had actually just said to you. It was far more disturbing that your first name was known to these people. 

"That doesn't matter. We may know a few things about you, but you know much more than we do about things important to us."

"And those would be?"

The other man laughed coldly at your attempt to sound confident. 

"Your friends." The first man now knelt down a meter away from where you were sat. 

"My friends?"

"The Avengers."

To this you had nothing to say. You instantly felt guilt at being caught in this way, no other member of the team would be trapped like this. It made you ashamed. These people needed you for whatever heinous reason they had. 

"We understand you know a great deal about the runnings of that Tower, and of the inner workings of the group itself." The man continued. "We think you would be very useful to us."

"I won't tell you anything."

This brought a sigh from him. It was almost sarcastic. 

"We thought you would say that." 

He stood up and took a few steps backwards, allowing the other man to walk into your focus. 

"Maybe this will change your mind."

The first strike to your face stung. The next hurt. The third, numb. The intensity of the punch quickly removed all feeling. You could taste your own blood as your lip was cut upon the second blow. 

"It… it won't change my mind." You spluttered. Tears welled up in your eyes but you were not going to give them the satisfaction. You would never betray your friends, your family. 

"We shall see."

+  +  +

"Has anyone seen Y/N?" 

Peter was worried. You had left the tower four hours ago, and still had yet to return. 

"No I haven't, why?" Nat answered him as she wandered into the shared living room and kitchen space. 

Peter told her that you'd told him you were quickly going to the store and that you weren't back. 

"I'm sure she will come back soon. Maybe she ran into a friend?" Steve offered as he sat holding a mug of black coffee. 

"Yeah… you're right." Peter tried not to think about it too much. But after an hour or so that he hadn't heard you walk down the corridor, he went to check your room to find it empty. And he couldn't find you anywhere in the tower. 

Wanda gave Peter a small smile. She had seen how close you two had become. It was only natural that Peter was concerned. 

"If she isn't back tomorrow morning, we shall then worry, yeah kid?" Tony walked behind Peter and placed a brief hand on his shoulder. 

"Ok…"

The next morning resulted in Peter's worry increasing exponentially. He had sent you multiple texts and phoned you many times to receive no response. Usually you would let him know if you were staying with a friend. The whole situation seemed off. 

"Still no sign of Y/N?" Tony asked as Peter wandered through the kitchen on his way to school. 

"No. I am worried." 

Tony considered Peter for a second. 

"Come with me, I might be able to find her." Tony stated and headed for the elevator. "School is important, but it can wait."

Walking into one of Tony's labs, Peter realised he hadn't been into this one before. Tony tapped on a screen and brought up a map of New York on one of the monitors. 

"Mr Stark, what is this?"

"I regret not telling you sooner but I have tapped yours and Y/N's phones. So even when it's off, it can be tracked."

"You're going to track her phone?"

"I think that's what I just said." Tony raised his eyebrows. "Let's see if she still has it with her." He could see how upsetting this was to Peter. He began to wonder if you two were just friends, or something more.

After putting more information into the computer a yellow dot appeared on the map, quite far from the Tower, but still within the city. 

"Is that her?" Peter asked urgently. 

"It should be. I don't like the fact she's in a decommissioned warehouse though."

Peter suddenly felt a sudden urge to drop everything and run to you. 

"According to this, the signal hasn't moved in 12 hours." Tony turned round to face Peter. 

Peter's jaw was tight. Tony could tell he was ready to fight. 

If you would like to be in the tag list for part 2 or any of my other Peter Parker imagines please let me know! 

"Alright kid, suit up."

PART 2

Tag list: @unmistakablyunknown

Masterlist

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

[soft--dragon]

Mining

Imagine this in an au where no war never happened and Dream was nice to Tommy without manipulating him :) I want my boys to be happy okay I'm soft for them all (I wrote this to help me with Tommy's latest stream cause it ✨h u r t✨ )

Word Count: 2,250

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

This was based on this prompt here I hope you enjoy this ^^

Tommy ran across the flower dotted fields, eyes bright and sword in hand. Dream ran beside him, occasionally glancing at the teen.

"You keeping up okay?" He asked.

"Yeah!" Tommy grinned, though Dream could see he was struggling to breathe.

"You should put the sword in your inventory" Dream advised, "the weight won't slow you down."

"There are mobs Dream" Tommy replied firmly, "I feel safer with it."

"Fair enough" Dream nodded but made sure to slow down a bit so Tommy could keep up.

Tommy had gone to Dream begging him to come along on a mining trip and to tell him about his speedrunning adventures. Dream would've declined but Tommy had seemed so excited by the idea that Dream really couldn't say no to the teen. Besides, he might be able to get to know the kid better. He was still pretty new to the server.

The pair stopped at a river, Dream only slightly out of breath, years of speedrunning training his body for this type of thing. Tommy on the other hand was bent over, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

"You gonna be alright?" Dream looked at him, a little concerned.

Tommy nodded again, instantly straightening up to smirk at Dream. "Please, I feel fine! I'm like a running machine, Big D!"

Dream screwed up his nose though he was smiling a little. "Don't call me that."

Tommy laughed, saluting. "Sure thing Big D!"

Dream groaned rolling his eyes. "C'mon, breaks over, we need to head to the cliffs to find a good cavern for resources."

Tommy sighed. "Gimmie a second to catch my breathe would ya? I'd like to live to see Tubbo's birthday."

"A running machine you said? Wouldn't that mean you don't need time to breathe?" Dream teasingly poked Tommy's side.

He didn't expect Tommy to violently flinch away, holding his side as he stared at Dream.

"What the fuck was that for?" He snapped.

Dream blinked. "Sorry, I was just...are you hurt?"

Tommy glared at him, pink starting to dust his cheeks. "I'm fine" he grumbled, "just don't do that."

Dream wanted to ask but refrained. Maybe Tommy had a thing with touch? But he was commonly seen hugging Tubbo and Wilbur...

"Sorry" Dream apologized again then motioned towards the moutain, "shall we continue?"

Tommy nodded, avoiding eye contact. Dream blinked at the lack of a snarky comeback. Was the boy still not comfortable enough around him for contact? Had he overstepped?

Dream pushed the thought aside. He'd spent a few weeks around Tommy, they'd given each other friendly shoves before. He probably just didn't expect the sudden touch.

"C'mon" Dream gently nudged the boy's shoulder, relieved when the boy shoved him back lightly.

They continued up the cliff side, Dream tossing blocks to Tommy whenever he needed them. All the while, Dream kept thinking back to the odd reaction Tommy had had earlier.

He might actually be hurt, the boy was terrible about taking care of himself if the stories Wilbur had told him were any indication.

Dream sighed, mining the dirt in front of him and pulling himself up on a sturdy ledge. They were about half way up the hill. Dream knew there was a trusty cavern close by perfect for mining. The amount of ores in there had barely been unearthed.

Dream looked over the edge where Tommy was climbing.

"How you doing kid?" He called.

"Fantastic!" Tommy sarcastically shouted back, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "How much further to the caven?"

"About five minutes, we'll take a break here" Dream replied.

Tommy grumbled something heaving himself up onto the edge of the grass block. "Fuck-!" He shouted in alarm.

Dream lunged down to grab Tommy's wrist as the boy's foot slipped off the grass block. Tommy gasped, staring up at the older boy.

"Dream! Don't let go!" He yelled, his feet scrambling for a foot hold.

"I'm not going to!" Dream grunted. "Stop moving around so much!"

Tommy forced himself to go slack. Dream yanked his arm up, tossing Tommy directly into his chest, causing him to topple over. They landed in a heap on the ledge, Dream practically hugging the boy to his chest. Tommy seemed equally shaken, gripping Dream's shirt tightly in his fists. The pair took a moment to breathe before Dream carefully pushed Tommy back to study his face.

"Are you alright?" He asked, almost tempted to take off his mask to get a clearer look at the kid.

"F-Fine" Tommy stuttered a bit, glancing over his shoulder at the edge of the cliff.

Yeah, that was bullshit.

Dream sat up, Tommy in his lap and held him at arm length. "Did you slip cause you couldn't get a footing? Or are you hurt? God please don't tell me you're hurt- actually do, I don't want Wilbur to kill me Tommy, are you hurt?"

He was rambling he knew he was but the heart attack he nearly had from almost losing Tommy sent his brain into mother hen mode.

Tommy laughed a little, putting his hand on Dream's mask and shoving him back. "I'm fine Dream, relax."

"I'm being serious Tommy" Dream batted Tommy's hand away. "Are you hurt, yes or no?"

"No" Tommy rolled his eyes, "god, you sound like Wilbur right now."

Dream glared at Tommy behind his mask. "I'm gonna make sure you're not lying."

"Ughhhhh fine" Tommy crossed his arms, pouting like a child.

Dream gently pressed his fingers against Tommy's arms to test for any sore spots, relieved when Tommy didn't react further than an annoyed eye roll.

"Uncross your arms" Dream told him.

Tommy blinked. "What? Why?"

"You might've bruised your ribs when I grabbed you, you hit the dirt pretty hard" Dream explained, "uncross em."

Tommy hesitated then lowered his arms slowly. Dream waited until they were all the way down then carefully moved his fingers around the bones. Tommy flinched and grabbed Dream's hands.

"You did lie to me unbelievable" Dream huffed. "How sore are they?"

Tommy wasn't looking at him, still keeping Dream's hands from touching him again. "I'm not hurt" he insisted, his voice high.

"Bull" Dream retorted, "you literally winced, Tommy just let me help you-"

"It didn't hurt alright?" Tommy finally lifted his head to glare at Dream.

A blush was burning his cheeks and ears, eyes flicking away from Dream's face to the ground.

Dream stared for a second, trying to put the pieces together. Then it clicked.

Oh.

Oh now that was interesting.

Dream smiled a little. "Tommy, if we're gonna do this whole mining thing, we need to trust each other, right?"

Tommy looked at him and nodded.

"Okay, so with that being said, can you let me check to see if you're injured anywhere else?"

Tommy pursed his lips together, eyes dropping from Dream's face to the grass. "F-Fine just don't-"

He cut himself off with a yelp as Dream poked his stomach.

"See!" Dream said, though he was smiling. "I told you that you were hurt!"

"No Dream, it doesn't hurt-" Tommy tried to explain but Dream prodded his stomach repeatedly making him squeak and slap a hand over his mouth.

"Tommy come on now, if you're in this much pain you got to let me know" Dream told him. "How badly does this hurt? Give me a rating from one to ten."

His hands shifted to poke at Tommy's hips. The boy squealed and broke into laughter, trying to shove Dream's hands away.

"Why are you laughing Tommy? This is serious!" Dream said, his grin while hidden by his mask, was evident in his voice.

"Yohohou're tihihihickling mehehe yohohohou jeheherk!" Tommy accused through his stream of giggles.

"Tickling you? I'm not tickling you Tommy I'm trying to see if you're injured!"

"Dreheheam I swehear to gOHOHOHOD!"

Dream glanced down at his hands to see them poking around Tommy's navel. He chuckled.

"Judging by that reaction you must've really hurt yourself here Toms, I'd better stay here to make sure you're not internally bleeding or something."

"No! No no no nohohohoho! Dreheheham!" Tommy squirmed in the older boy's lap, trying to escape the barrage of tickles.

"Hey, no, no getting out of this Tommy, you told me I could check for injuries" Dream pulled Tommy back until the boy was cradled in his arm, Dream's free hand scuttling around Tommy's stomach.

Tommy shook his head, covering his face with one hand while trying to bat Dream's hand away with the other. "Dreheheheheam!"

Dream giggled quietly. The boy was loud and a bit brash sure, but this? God, Dream was gonna remember this forever. He shifted from Tommy's stomach to his sides, where this whole thing really started.

Tommy squirmed, leaning back into Dream's arm as he laughed freely. His hand still covered half of his face, but Dream could see the pink tinge to his ears and cheeks.

Okay, that's was adorable.

Dream eased up a bit, but kept his hand resting on Tommy's stomach. The boy seemed to realise it had stopped about a minute after Dream actually had. He lifted his hand a little to peek out and immediately dropped it back when he saw Dream looking at him.

"That was cute" Dream teased.

"Shut the fuck up" Tommy groaned, "I'm not cute."

"You really are" Dream poked at his cheek making the boy's nose screw up. "Cuteinnit."

"I'll stab you" Tommy threatened.

"How could you stab me if you're too busy laughing?" Dream pinched at Tommy's hips making the boy squeal and break into a fit of giggles.

"Fuck off" Tommy slapped the hands away, drawing his knees to his chest to protect the area.

Dream laughed a little, ruffling Tommy's hair. "You really aren't hurt though?"

"Yeah yeah I'm fine" Tommy huffed.

"If you say so, buuuuut" Dream dragged out the last word. "It would truly be a shame if you injured your feet somehow, imagine that, you wouldn't be able to outrun mobs, maybe I should check they're not hurt too?"

Tommy stared at Dream for a moment then scrambled to get out of Dream's arms.

"C'mere Tommy!" Dream laughed cheerfully, grabbing Tommy in a bear hug and falling back with him.

"Fuck off Dreheham!" Tommy yelled, but giggles were already peppering between his words. "No no no! Let gohoho!"

"Why? I just want to make sure my friend isn't in any pain Toms," Dream told him, rolling over and pinning Tommy to the ground.

"You're just gonna tickle mehehe!" Tommy tried to sit up but Dream's weight kept him down.

"What an accusation! I would never do such a thing in this kind of situation!" Dream pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Now, be a good lad and just stay still while I conduct my analysis."

"Fuck off!" Tommy shot back, a wobbly smile on his face as he felt Dream tug at his shoes. "Dreheheam! Wait wait wait-"

Dream giggled again. He used to this with George and Sapnap all the time. He missed the playful feeling that came with it.

Tommy's shoes dropped from his feet and Dream paused for a moment, hands poised by the arches. Tommy was giggling quietly behind him, the anticipation making him nervous. The silence stretched on for a bit before Tommy finally got brave enough to ask; "Dream?"

Dream instantly skittered his fingers up and down the boy's feet making Tommy throw his head back with a loud shriek, hysteric laughter following.

"NOHOHohoho! Dreheheham!" Tommy squirmed on the dirt, kicking his legs the best he could.

"Damn Tommy I think your feet might actually be more injured than I thought!" Dream exclaimed, "that's okay though, I know some methods to get them back into working order."

Dream then started gently tracing Tommy's toes while his other hand scratched around the soles.

"FuhuHUHUCK! YOHOHOU BIHIHITCH!" Tommy cackled, covering his warm face with his arm, desperately trying to evade Dream's fingers.

"Tommy I told you to stay still! You're not being very cooperative" Dream shook his head.

"FUHUHUHUCK OFF!"

"Hey! I'm trying to help, there's no need to be rude" Dream sped up his fingers pace as punishment.

Tommy seemed to realise this as he immediately backtracked. "I'M SOHOHORRY! DREHEHEHAM PLEHEHEHESE!"

Dream chuckled and stopped his fingers, getting off of Tommy's legs. The boy melted into the grass, child like giggles spilling from his mouth. Dream smiled fondly, sitting cross legged beside the boy.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough to look up at Dream. "Bitch" he said simply, glaring.

Dream laughed. "Sorry couldn't help it" he said. "You good?"

"Yeah" Tommy sat up, tugging his shoes back on. "But you're dead to me."

Dream laughed again, slinging an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Aw come on, you love me really."

"I really, really don't."

Dream pouted then tazed Tommy's side making him yelp, flinching away.

"Hehey!"

Dream snickered and stood, offering a hand to Tommy. "C'mon, we've still got a little bit to go then we'll be at the cavern."

Tommy took his hand, hefting himself up with the older's help. He hesitated then asked, "can you tell me about your first manhunt with four hunters?"

"Yeah sure," Dream smiled, his heart softening when Tommy's eyes lit up. "I think I started it with me slapping Sapnap in the face then making a break for it."

Tommy laughed, listening intently to every word as Dream led the way to the cavern.

[elfwoodfae]

“Nightcall” Harrison Eo Wells x reader

Chapter 3

Summary: As you taunt the devil another criminal may be ready to strike.

Gif credits go to the owner, I found this one on google.

Author’s note: let me know what you all think, if you have any suggestions, I hope you like it!

Once again, you were all brainstorming ideas about the man in yellow, nothing concrete, but the team had been stuck for a few days without making any progress.

“I just don’t believe that he doesn’t go somewhere after,” Barry commented.

You were sitting on Cisco’s desk and as you saw Wells roll into the cortex you decided to chip on your own ideas. Even tho he had specifically told you not to.

“You know I bet he has a day job too,” you said while noticing from the corner of your eye how Dr. Wells moved his head to look at you and rub two fingers over his lips, how he tended to do when he was thinking, probably how to get rid of you without attracting heat to himself.

“He seems smart, I bet he is some kind of doctor,” you spurred on. “I mean his suit seems pretty legit so he probably is very smart.” Now you were sassing him up. Oh boy were you sassing him up. You knew this risky comment had the potential to blow up on your face, but honestly it was a risk you were willing to take just by the look of Wells’ eyes.

“Very interesting idea y/n.” Wells said looking at you with that fake smile he gave people. God how you wanted to whip it off his face.

“Actually Dr. Wells I was wondering if I could talk to you about something” you asked him as you hopped off the desk.

He only nodded and signaled you to follow him. This plan could very much make you or break you. You were hoping for the first one.

“Those two seem to be talking a lot lately” Cisco commented once you were out of earshot.

Once in Wells’ office you reclined yourself against his desk and looked at him.

“So I have been thinking about your proposition.” You began to speak.

“My proposition? I don’t believe I have proposed anything to you” he said, the look on his face was unbelievable, you had some nerve to be sassing him up so much, and the worst part was that he couldn’t kill you or get rid of you just yet without making it obvious and drawing attention to himself.

“Yes, your proposition about me not speaking and you not killing me” you continued.

“I have thought about it, and I’m willing to accept with one condition.”

He couldn’t believe you. He just couldn’t believe that you were either stupid enough or brave enough to face him.

“I don’t believe I gave you a choice or that you have one, what part of dying was not clear to you?” He added.

“Trust me it was very clear to me since you literally stuck a hand in me, but killing aside, I will keep your secret on a condition, so please at least humor me, we both know you can’t kill me, for what reason is unclear to me but if you really wanted me dead I would be by now.”

You would be the fault in his plan if he didn’t do something about you fast. You were too smart and too fearless of him to be scare that easy. Or too stupid as he had previously thought.

“What is that condition?” He would humor you, play your game and let you think you had the upper hand until he could get rid of you.

“I will play along with you and keep your secret safe, going as far as making sure no one else suspects of you, only if you promise me that once this is all over, and you get whatever it is you are trying to achieve that you will leave a confession freeing Barry’s father of the murder of Nora.”

Now that wasn’t that hard, he would be gone, it wouldn’t affect him in any way, and if that’s what it took to keep you quite then he would oblige.

“Fine, I give you my word.” He said.

“And you won’t hurt Barry badly, or anyone else in the team” you added, feeling a wave of bravery.

“Don’t push your luck little one or you will find out what happens when you taunt me.” he said through gritted teeth, he was a very patient man, but you had a way of pushing his buttons like no one that he had encountered in a long time.

After your little conversation with Wells you felt more confident than ever, you had managed to at least get something out of it and the enjoyment of messing with him, it made you feel powerful.

“Well someone is in a good mood” Cisco said as you entered the cortex smiling and more relaxed than they had seen you in a long time.

“What happened back there?” Cisco insinuated as he looked at you suspiciously.

“Gross Cisco! Gross!” You screamed at him with a fake look of disgust.

“I’m just saying!” He added raising his hands in the air in an apologetic manner.

“Alright you guys,” you called everyone’s attention.

“I’m going to get some coffee, anyone wants anything?”Everyone made their orders and you left to Jitters.

It was getting dark by the time you were getting out of Jitters, walking to your car with your hands full, you struggled to get the key out of your pocket, and as you placed the coffees on the roof of your car and looked at your window to open the car you screamed in fear as a hand covered your mouth with some kind of clothe and the other one grabbed your neck beginning to drag you away.

Back at Star labs, the team had began to wonder what was taking you so long. It was normal to take some time since Jitters wasn’t exactly a street away, but you had been gone for almost two hours.

Just as Barry was about to tell Cisco to try and call you for the twentieth time, a message was being broadcasted on the tv.

“Cisco!”Caitlin urged him as she pointed to the monitor. “Put the volume up!”

“Flash!” The knowing voice of Captain Cold came through the speakers. “I have a friend of yours. If you don’t come and surrender yourself, she will die.” He added in his typical singsong way of speaking.

“Flash don’t come for me!” You could be heard screaming in the background, the focus changed to you as the image showed another man putting a gag in your mouth while you were tied to a chair.

“We need to do something fast” Barry said as he raised his hands to his hair in desperation. In that moment doctor Wells who had seen the whole ordeal from the entrance to the cortex spoke.

“We need to be careful Mister Allen, we don’t know where they are keeping her or if Captain Cold still have the cold gun.”

“Dr. Wells is right, we need to be careful, acting on impulse may not be the best call right now.” Caitlin added.

“I know but we can’t just stay and do nothing! He has y/n” he desperately added.

“I’m aware but I do caution restrain.” He added.

They planned a strategy, as Barry made it to the meeting point, Cisco and Joe would go to see the location where they suspected you were being kept.

As Barry struggled to defeat Cold and Heat Wave. Dr. Wells and Caitlin stayed behind guiding them through the operation. When Barry finally manage to neutralize Cold and Rory a bigger problem arose.

“Guys!” Came Cisco desperate voice through the comms. “She isn’t here, this was a decoy” he added.

Barry looked down on Cold, and as he grabbed him by his shirt collar he shook him.

“Where is she!?” Desperation could be heard in his voice.

“Flash, you really thought it would be that easy to find her? I hope you said your goodbyes earlier since in a matter of around two minutes your little friend will blow into the air.”

Dread came over Barry as he realized that no matter how fast he managed to search the city it wasn’t enough time to find you.

“I will give you a hint, why don’t you start in the East side?” Cold added as he smiled sarcastically at Barry.

Back the labs Wells excused himself from Caitlin and went to his time vault. He needed to find you fast. It was true that this was the perfect chance to finally get rid of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let you die by the hands of Cold.

You were seated in some kind of abandoned warehouse. In what part of town you had no idea, but you were painfully aware of the ticking bomb at the bottom of your chair. And as you heard the ticking get faster you were sure that was it, this is how you were going to die. If Barry hadn’t found you yet, you doubted he would on time.

As the seconds came to cero time seemed to stop all together, and in flash of red you were whisked away as the bomb went off and the explosion resonated all around you.

Your eyes watered as your mouth opened to let a sigh of relief come out. You squeezed Barry’s neck and placed your forehead on his shoulder as you breathed him in only for a second later to recognize this particular smell. This wasn’t Barry. As you opened your eyes you were met with a yellow suit and a pair of red glowing eyes. Still in his arms you hugged him again, adrenaline controlling your actions.

“I have never been happier to see you” you said, he only nodded and put you down on the floor.

As he speeded away you saw Barry coming to you fast. Relief could be read all over him the moment his eyes landed on you.

“She is safe” is all he said through the comms to the team.

“How, how did you managed to escape?” He questioned you once you were all back at Star labs as Caitlin checked you over.

“ I am not sure, I managed to free myself from the ropes but the bomb may have glitched as I had enough time to run as far as I could” you explained, trying to sound convincing.

“I mean but you don’t even have a scratch on you” Barry kept questioning you.

“I think I just had a lucky star tonight.” You said as you looked over at Harrison, who had just entered the med bay area.

“I think we should let Miss y/n rest for tonight Mister Allen.” Dr. Wells added.

“Yeah, I am just glad you are okay.”Barry added as they all walked out to let you rest for the night.

Wells was the last to leave and as he was about to roll out the door you stopped him. You had so many questions to ask him. He could have easily let you die and get rid of you without being suspicious, but he hadn’t.

“Why did you save me?” You asked when you were sure no one was close by. He only smiled at you and turned around, leaving as you sat there with now more questions about the man than ever before.

@mintchipcupcake

@nellethiel-aranel

@saltykidcreation

@twilightlover2007

[ecto-american]

Liar Liar

Phic Phight Oneshot for Ectopal: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears. [TransDanny]

The OG prompt: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears.

Potential TW for trans-related venting and implied violence, but there’s nothing graphic

on FFN and AO3

The front door opened, and Maddie frowned as she glanced at the clock that informed her that yes. It was definitely hours past his curfew.

No lights turned on, but she still could tell from the faint light of the one kitchen light, the light that the family just never turned off so that they could see at night, that it was definitely her son doing his best to remain quiet. And now that she knew he was safe, all of her fears about if he was okay and his safety melted away and allowed for anger to start boiling.

"Daniel James Fenton," she finally called out. The figure froze, and she flipped the light switch on. Before her was her son, looking as guilty as ever. One hand was on the wall, guiding him as he approached the stairs, the other holding onto his binder and shoes. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"...Um...Can I plead the fifth?" he asked weakly. Her frown deepened.

"It's nearly two in the morning, and on a school night!" she scolded. "Let's not even talk about how you snuck out right now." His shoulders slumped. "You could have been dead for all I know!"

"I'm sorry," he replied quietly.

"Where were you?" Maddie asked.

"I was at Tucker's, we got caught up playing video games," he said. Maddie scowled.

"Tell me the truth," she said. Danny scowled back.

"I am!" he insisted.

"Then how come Pamela called me?" Maddie asked. At the name of Mrs. Manson, Danny paled.

"...She called you?" his voice croaked out.

"You bet she called me," Maddie snapped. "What were you thinking?"

"I wi-I just!" Danny cut himself off as he seemed to struggle to find his words. "I'm just wanting more freedom! I'm an adult now! I can legally buy cigarettes!" Maddie couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Well I wish you wouldn't lie to me!" Maddie argued back. Danny flinched at her words. "And maybe if you didn't, I'd let you have more freedom! But you lied about going to your room, you lied to me just now about where you were, and I already know that you're going to lie to me when I ask you what you and Sam have been doing!"

"We weren't doing anything!" Danny half-yelled back. "We fell asleep binge watching one of her true crime shows!"

"Don't lie to me!" Maddie told him.

"I'm not!"

Maddie made an angry grumbling noise, crossing her arms.

"You're ground, all weekend," she informed him. Danny didn't respond; he simply made a face at her. He brushed past her to angrily stomp up the stairs. She didn't bother snapping at him over that too.

"So you have wished it, so shall it be."

Maddie turned around rapidly at the voice. It wasn't Danny's...and Jazz was miles away at college…But what she did hear was Danny slamming his bedroom door shut. She'd get onto him about that in the morning.

A quick inspection, and she found nothing, and she decided to just call it a night. She went upstairs herself, pausing at Danny's door to listen. She could hear Danny shuffle around for a moment, though after a moment, she saw his light go out and heard his bed creak as he rested on it. She just knew he was going to fall asleep in class tomorrow. Maddie sighed, and she went into her room.

Jack was just coming from the bathroom with a light yawn, and she felt guilty.

"Did we wake you up?" she wondered. Jack gave her a small smile and shrugged.

"It's okay," he assured her. Maddie huffed.

"No, it's not," she insisted. "He should have been home. He was over at Sam's house until about ten minutes ago. Pam called to complain about it."

"Ah, he's just doing what teenagers do," Jack replied. Maddie frowned as she got into bed.

"Well that mentality is how we end up grandparents way too early," she reminded him. Jack gave a light sigh as he also slipped back into bed.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "I'll talk to him about it soon."

"Thank you. He's pretty mad at me right now," Maddie turned her bedside lamp off. Jack chuckled.

"He'll probably be mad for a bit, but he'll get over it," he reassured her. He switched his own bedside lamp off as he got settled back in. "Night, love you."

"Love you too."

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

Despite the late night, Maddie was up early. She could hear that Danny was already up and getting ready in the bathroom, so she didn't feel the need to say anything to him just yet. They could reserve any conversation for after school.

By the time she came downstairs, Danny was in the kitchen staring at the toaster, backpack on the kitchen table.

"Morning, sweetie," she greeted him warmly.

He gave her a somewhat dirty look, and he mumbled a cranky and short "morning" in response. She opted to ignore his attitude for now, and she went over to the coffee maker. While she was waiting for Danny, she had gone ahead and scheduled the coffee maker to start making coffee, and man was she glad. It was already pouring, and it smelled great.

"Danny, do you want a cup of coffee?" she asked him. He glanced over, and he shook his head no.

"Mm no thanks," he replied.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept like shit."

Maddie glanced at Danny in surprise, and he stared back at her, equally as confused. Danny never cussed at her.

"Cause you stayed out all night, huh?" Maddie lightly accused, leaning her hand on the counter.

"No, cause I slept with my binder on and now my chest hurts," he snapped back. Maddie frowned.

"You're not supposed to do that," she told him.

"Well maybe if I wasn't fucking born like this-," he began but cut himself off. He looked so confused, and Maddie was too. Not at the statement. She had no doubt that it was true, but where did all this cussing come from? He knew better than to talk to her like that, and it was so...weird. Danny glanced back to the toaster, clearing his throat. "Sorry, I...I uh…" Two pop tarts popped out of the toaster, and he quickly snatched them up. "I gotta go. Bye."

"...Have a good day," Maddie called after him, staring as he quickly walked out, and she heard the front door close. She made her cup of coffee, and she got to work.

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

She jumped as their ghost alarm went off, but Jack and Maddie wasted no time quickly collecting their things and rushing out the door and into the RV. It led them right to the scene. A fight against Amity Park's most popular ghost and another fairly familiar ghost, a green skinned woman with flowing black hair dressed exclusively in blue.

Maddie messily pulled into a parking spot off the side of the road, and Jack immediately hopped out. Maddie followed suit, and she hurried towards the action.

"Stop granting every damn wish you hear! I swear, it's ridiculous!" she could hear Phantom yell.

"I'm merely giving people what they ask for," the woman, Desiree Maddie believed she was called, replied smugly.

Phantom looked like he was gonna say something more, but stopped when he seemed to glance over and notice their arrival.

"Let's just finish this," he said instead, and he blasted her, only to miss. The woman smirked, but it was quickly cut off by a secondary blast from Jack.

"Jack!" Maddie gasped in excitement. "Excellent shot!" Jack grinned proudly, firing another. Only to miss, as sorta expected.

"I do not have time for this!" Phantom scowled. Maddie rolled her eyes. What the hell does a ghost have going on? He pulled out the Fenton Thermos and sucked the other ghost in.

"You ever going to return that?" Maddie called out sarcastically.

"It's my thermos! You gave it to me!" Phantom called back, immediately giving her a weird blank look. Maddie narrowed her eyes.

"We didn't give you anything," she replied. She held her hand out expectantly. "Give it back."

Phantom opened his mouth to rebuttal, only to get blasted. It knocked him back and made him drop the thermos. Maddie dove for it as Jack fired more shots, and she was thankfully able to grab it before it hit the ground. However when she looked up, Phantom was gone.

"Mads! Did you see that!?" Jack asked. She looked up at him with a proud smile as he jogged over to her.

"I did!" she replied cheerfully. "You've gotten a lot better!" Jack puffed up proudly. "Where did Phantom go?"

"Dunno," he admitted, and his shoulders immediately fell a bit. "After I got him, he flew off. Musta been scared." He offered his hand out to her, and she accepted it.

"Probably," she agreed. She held the thermos up. "Least we got this back though." Jack nodded. "We'll put her back in the Zone later. Let's get some lunch."

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

Maddie made a point to make sure she was upstairs so that she could make sure Danny came home on time, given his grounding situation. While she waited, she began to make some cupcakes. As she was mixing batter, she heard the front door open and close.

"Hey Danny," she greeted from the kitchen. She glanced at the clock. He was ten minutes later than he normally would have come home, but it wasn't enough for her to say anything.

"...Hey mom," came the reply. He stepped into the kitchen, and Maddie glanced at him, only to do a double take. His right cheek was badly swollen from a bad bruise. Maddie immediately wiped her hands on a dish towel, staring at him.

"What happened?" she asked, stepping towards him. He stared at her in confusion before putting his hand to his face. He pressed his lips tightly together and didn't answer. She asked once more, more firmly. "Danny, what happened?"

He opened his mouth to say something, only to choke on nothing and close his mouth again. Maddie went to the freezer to get an ice pack. She motioned for him to sit down. He sat at the kitchen table, and she pulled a chair up to him. She pressed the ice pack to his face, and he took it from her, leaning his elbow on the table.

"I'll only ask you one more time," she began, only for Danny to angrily cut her off.

"I got beat up today, okay?" he replied, sounding exasperated. Maddie blinked.

"By who?" she asked. Danny gave her a sour look, and he refused to speak. "Danny…"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he finally spoke. He began to stand up. "Look, I'm fine. It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Maddie argued. She grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. "You're going to tell me what's going on right now. Who hurt you?"

"Just some dudes at school," he tried to keep his answers short. But Maddie was having none of that.

"But why?" she pressed. Danny stayed quiet. "Daniel James-"

"What do you want me to say, Mom?" he snapped. "That I constantly get my ass kicked for being queer? That every day I get reminded that they think I'm some freak that shouldn't be allowed to exist? Let alone in any kind of relative peace? People don't like me. Why do you think I want to get my name changed as soon as possible? Why I've been begging for surgery as a birthday gift? It's so that when I go to college, nobody will know."

"...I had no idea," she said slowly.

"Yeah, I know," he said shortly. He got up, managing to evade her touch again to go for the stairs. Before she could say anything else, he was upstairs, and she could hear his door closing.

What had gotten into him? Maddie had never heard Danny talk about any of those things to her before. How long had these feelings been going on? Why had he never talked to her before about this?

She forced herself to stand and return to her baking. Mindlessly, she began to fill her cupcake tray up with batter, slipping them into the oven when she heard noise in the basement. She frowned, quickly setting her timer before going down.

Phantom was there, looking through her stuff. Snooping around. He was carefully looking around, muttering to himself as he hunted for...something.

"Can I help you, Phantom?"

The ghost jumped, turning on his heel.

"I'm looking for the wishing ghost so I can undo a wish," he replied. She raised an eyebrow at his blunt honesty.

"What wish?" She asked. Phantom scowled, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to think hard.

"That's private," he replied. She glared back at him, but then it hit her.

"Well I wish you wouldn't lie to me!"

Her son couldn't lie to her. Because of the wishing ghost still trapped in the thermos. She hadn't had a chance to empty the thermoses of ghosts she had Jack had caught over the past two weeks.

"I suggest you leave through that portal then before I blast you through it," she said. "The wishing ghost is staying here with me." Phantom narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"Not without that wishing ghost," he replied. Maddie picked a blaster off the table near her, pointing it at him. He held his hands up defensively. "Whoa, take it easy. Why do you want Desiree so bad? Don't you normally throw the ghosts back into the Ghost Zone anyway?"

"I do, and let's start with you," she replied. She pulled the trigger. It hit Phantom square in the chest, pushing him into the open portal. She quickly stormed up, slamming the closed button.

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

It was hours before Danny finally came down from upstairs. She knew that he had stayed upstairs, for once, instead of sneaking out again, from occasional footsteps and the sound of him talking on the phone. Maddie had actually just gotten off the phone with him, having called him to ask what he wanted from their favorite Chinese restaurant before she sent Jack out to pick it up. Soon as Jack was out the door, Danny came out of his room and downstairs. She gave him smile as he came into the living room.

"Hey sweetie, dad will b-"

"I know about the wish."

Maddie instantly felt guilt wash over her as Danny stared at her with a frown, arms crossed. She stayed where she sat on the couch.

"What makes you say that?" she questioned. Danny's lips tightened, and she knew that he wasn't going to answer her. "Danny-"

"And I know that you know about it!" he accused. "I've been through this kind of thing before! Why haven't you undone the wish yet?"

"Because you don't need to be lying to me!" Maddie finally snapped back as she got to her feet. "For once, I'm getting honest answers from you after almost three years of constant lie after lie!"

"And you're okay with this being how you get those answers?" Danny talked back. His fists balled up, though they stayed by his sides. "Instead of making me feel okay and comfortable telling you these things? Or wait for me to be ready to say something?"

Ouch. Maddie flinched, and she just knew that had Jazz been here...she'd be absolutely agreeing with Danny. And she knew in her gut that Danny was right. Maddie's shoulder slumped.

"I know," she said quietly. Danny looked completely taken aback. "...But why haven't you said anything? You know your dad and I love you so much. I had no idea you've been in this much pain."

Danny stared at the ground, shifting to lean against the doorway.

"...I didn't want you guys to feel like you were bad parents," he replied. "Because you're not. It's not your fault everybody else sucks, or that I have to wait for surgery or to get my name changed and everything. And you can't fix it. It's just how it is."

"Dad and I would have started fighting harder for you had we known," Maddie said softly. "All we ever want is for you and Jazz to be happy and healthy."

"Yeah, I know," Danny half-grumbled. "It's just...It's just how it is. And I can't even tell the therapist that, cause she keeps pushing back everything if I hint at being depressed about it."

"If that's the case, we can find a new therapist," Maddie replied. "One that'll take you more seriously." Danny shook his head.

"No, it's okay. I'll be done with school this year, and I'll be seeing a new one anyway when I go to college," he said. Maddie frowned.

"But still-"

"Mom, it's fine," he interrupted. He smiled. "Seriously." She sighed. "Please, just. Undo the wish."

"...Okay," she finally agreed. She began to walk towards the basement, only to pause, turning to him. "But first." Danny raised an eyebrow at her. "What were you and Sam doing up so late?" Danny gave her a sour look, rolling his eyes.

"...Sam's been having a hard time lately. Lots of girls at school bully her for the same reason as me, and it's just been hitting her super hard lately," he explained. "I was up late with her cause she was crying so much, and we fell asleep while I was holding her to make her feel better."

Maddie's heart twisted a bit. She truly wish she had known. And she already made a mental note to march into Casper High first thing Monday morning after having a long phone call with Pam that night. A call to Vlad too, to get in touch to see if he'd help hire a lawyer. She had absolute hell to raise, and a school she was ready to sue.

"But seriously," Danny's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "I'll eventually come and tell you these things when I'm ready. Don't rely on dumb ghost wishes."

"Yeah, I know," Maddie replied somberly. "I'm sorry, Danny." She took a few steps towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. After a moment, she felt him return the hug. She let go, cupping his cheeks and making him lean down a bit so she could kiss his forehead. "I just worry about you. I want you to feel like you can always come to me. You're my baby boy."

"I know, Mom," he smiled. "And I will when I need you, but I'm not a little kid. I can handle a lot of things on my own."

"Yeah, but you're still my baby," Maddie sighed. Hell, he and Jazz were both taller than her by now. They definitely got that from Jack. Or in Danny's case, he got nearly everything from him. Almost a mirror image the older he got. Danny's cheeks flushed a bit.

"Mo-om."

Maddie chuckled.

"Come on, let's go undo the wish. I have the wishing ghost still in the basement," she said. She paused. "But once we undo the wish, will you honestly tell me how you knew?"

Danny stared at her for a moment, seemingly thinking. And he nodded.

"Yeah. After dinner, just you and me," he promised. "I'll tell you the whole story. Start to finish."