#but I have 4000 words due next week

[becca-e-barnes]

I can't bring myself to think of anything except a submissive dbf Bucky on his knees, shirtless and just short of begging to be allowed to touch you. (Probably inspired by this tiktok that I've watched SO many times)

Even his very first kiss is frantic. He usually starts off gentle; almost tentative but within minutes he's holding the back of your head, keeping you close and it's such an indulgent kiss, it makes your head swim.

"Fuck." His mouth latches onto your neck, groaning quietly when he realises you already have the first couple of buttons of his shirt undone. He's already lost any desire he might have had to take this slowly.

You pull him back up to kiss your lips with a hand gently cradling the back of his neck. He doesn't voice any objections, following your lead and letting his warm lips slide over yours until your tongue teases his.

He's practically melting already and it's so rewarding to watch how easily he crumbles. Your lips don't part from his while he shrugs his shirt off and as soon as his neck is free of the collar, your hand replaces it.

His eyes open when you start to apply pressure to the outside of his throat, careful to avoid pressing on any of the more delicate structures. "Harder." He needs this. You have no problem indulging him.

"You're so good for me." He's flushed already but you swear the praise makes his cheeks blaze even hotter. His lips are pink and slick and he's long since forgotten his need to kiss you. Up until you use your grip on his neck to direct him to kneel on the carpet.

You let go of his throat, the release of pressure gives him a head rush and it's written all over his face. He's looking up at you expectantly, desperate to know what's coming next. Are you going to tease him about being so submissive? Slap his face a little? Spit in his mouth maybe? A little part of him isn't sure what he'd prefer more.

You do none of the above though. Instead, you perch on the edge of the bed while you play with his hair, letting the seconds tick past, not saying a word.

He almost feels deprived of touch, going from so much to so little in a short space of time. Your knees are pressed tightly together but he kisses up one of your bare legs regardless, worshipping every inch of skin he can press his mouth to.

"Spread your legs." It's only a quiet murmur but his tone is off. He's not in a position to be making any demands.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" It's almost funny that he thinks he'll get what he wants by addressing you like that.

"Spread your legs please." The emphasis seems genuine. He engaged his mouth before he engaged his brain. It happens and you forgive him, parting your thighs and letting him shift the skirt of your dress out of the way.

You hadn't bothered to wear underwear. It only gets in the way and Bucky seemed appreciative that he didn't have to waste any time taking it off you.

"You're so wet already." This wasn't news to you. Even just the thought of him on his knees for you is enough to get you worked up, never mind the reality.

One of your hands instinctively settles on the back of his head and you feel him start to glide his tongue over your slick sex. He kisses your body like he did your lips earlier. The pressure and intensity feels indulgent, long strokes of his tongue that allow him to taste you the way he's been dreaming of.

The slick sounds are obscene. His quiet moans are filthy. He sinks two thick fingers into your body, curling them while his tongue laps at your clit and you can't help the way your legs shake.

The pointed tip of your shoe presses gently to the front of his trousers and he gratefully grinds against the sole. His pleasure can't and won't be forgotten, although it seems like that wasn't a concern of his anyway.

[maerinhearts]

Away for Work

Your boyfriend Suna Rintarou is overseas for a volleyball tournament. After getting an idea from your friends, you send him a video of yourself while he is in the locker room, waiting to head out for warm ups...

Warnings: slight possessiveness, pet names, unprotected sex, cream pie, fem!bodiedreader, praise. Let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 4000+

Minors DNI.

Smut is below the cut.

It’s silent in the house without him. And you’re bored out of your mind. Your friends had stayed for a couple of weekends since he has been gone, but you’re beginning to think that your loneliness was annoying them, despite the fact that they were constantly checking on you and bringing you meals because you seemed to hardly ever eat when he was out of the country.

You make your way to the empty bedroom, sighing before flopping yourself onto the king-sized mattress. His game is due to start in an hour and you find that the longer you think about him, the more frustrated you become. Frustrated that he is gone. Frustrated that you want him. Frustrated that you’re alone. Frustrated that you seem to always be horny when he is gone.

You think back to what one of your friends had suggested.

“Send him a video of you,” she had said. “My husband loves receiving videos of me when he is on business trips.”

You had wrung your hands together. “What kind of videos?” you asked.

“Have you sent him pictures before, Y/N?” another friend had chimed in.

“Well, yes. Of course,” you replied with a roll of your eyes. “And he sends me pictures back.” You had blushed at the memory of the picture you received ten minutes prior. Him, standing naked in front of the hotel room mirror. His erect cock held firmly in his free hand, a slight smirk on his lips that you could barely see around his phone. His hair was disheveled, like he had just woken up.

Your friends giggled. “Has he ever sent you videos?”

You slowly shook your head.

Their suggestions bounce around your head as you head for your closet to dig out the pink dildo you had stuffed away so long ago. With your boyfriend always around, you hadn’t needed it. Until now. He was due back home next week, and you thought you could wait.

With a scowl on your face, you trudge back to your bed and strip yourself of your clothing. When you get comfortable, you finally pull out your phone.

***

He sat alone in the locker room. Well, not totally alone. His teammates were stretching and doing their own preparations for the upcoming game. He had his headphones in his ears, music on full blast with his track suit zipped up over his mouth. He was buried into the jacket, eyes closed and mind on you. He couldn’t wait to get home. You were texting him every day that you missed him, and it broke his heart. He thought you could keep each other satiated with pictures, but no matter how many pictures you sent him, it was never enough. He missed the feel of your soft skin against the palm of his hands. And he missed the sounds of your moans. He missed the way your lips felt pressed against his own. God, he was so homesick, it was almost pathetic.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. With brows furrowed, he sits up and reaches for a bottle of water while fishing the device out of his pocket. He unlocks the screen to see a message from you. Smiling to himself, he opens it and sees you had sent a video. All he could see was blackness surrounding the “play” symbol. Underneath, you had written “I miss you :(“ and there it is. The clenching in his chest. The hurt. He felt bad leaving you.

He takes a swig of his water before holding his phone up and pressing play with his thumb. He thought you had just sent him another video of you enjoying time with your friends. He hears rustling and frowns before the camera moves and he sees you fully on display on his phone. His eyes widen and he presses pause. He needs to compose himself before going forward. He glances around to see that the locker room was now empty. He takes another swig of his water and presses play again. Just as he starts to swallow, he watches as your hand moves down your body and the camera moves to show that exact hand slowly pushing your pink dildo into your cunt. He chokes on the water, forcing it down his throat before pulling the phone closer to his face.

Then, he hears you. A soft gasp followed by a soft, sweet moan as he watches you pull the dildo out and shove it right back in. He’s mesmerized. If he looks close enough, he can see your slick coating the toy. He thinks this might be the greatest thing he has ever received from you. And as his dick hardens against his sweats, his adoration turns to annoyance. And he feels his annoyance flare up into downright anger as he hears the familiar moan of his name through the headphones. You had picked your pace up and between the moans of his name, he could hear the soft wet sounds of the dildo entering and leaving your body.

He promptly closes out of the video, seething, before replying to your message with just the word “Cute”. He checks the time and sees he has five minutes before he needs to be on the court for warmups. He takes that time to send you money before he stuffs his phone into his bag and leaves.

***

Just as you turn the TV on to watch the game, his reply comes through.

“Cute”.

You feel your eyebrow twitch in anger. Cute? That’s it?! Cute?! How was that even remotely cute?! You’re about to type a heated reply back when a notification from your bank pops up on your phone. You click on it to see he had wired you $1,000 with a message that just said “Since you seem bored.” Frustrated, you toss your phone on his side of the bed and cross your arms. What were you supposed to do with $1,000?

You watch the TV with your arms crossed, your heart doing a somersault as you see your boyfriend jog out onto the court. You’re so incredibly annoyed with him but watch him anyway.

“Suna Rintarou seems to be in a foul mood today,” one of the announcer’s comments. You raise an eyebrow at that.

“He does, doesn’t he? He seems to be hitting the ball a little harder than normal during these warmups.”

“He still seems to be hitting his marks and staying in the court though,” the first announcer says. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get a great game out of Suna today.”

When the camera pans to your boyfriend jogging back around to the line, you feel your heart in your throat as you study the tautness of his muscular back. And when he turns to the camera and you get a look at his face for the first time, you see his fox-like feature’s glowering into the camera at you. He knew you were watching. You feel yourself tense at his gaze, now knowing that he didn’t think your video was just “cute”.

You watch the rest of his game, attempting to not fall asleep considering the hour at home. You did not miss how hard he really was spiking the ball. The thought of that same hand smacking your ass crosses your mind and you shake your head, attempting to push it away.

Anxiety settles into your spine, causing you to become tense. Did he not like the video? Why else would he just say “cute”? What was up with that anyway? You guys had been sending pictures back and forth the whole time he has been gone. What were you supposed to do know? If you had to be honest with yourself, you were kind of embarrassed. You were at least expecting a video of him touching himself after his game, but you didn’t even get a picture.

The week following that incident goes by quickly. He was hardly texting you and now he wasn’t texting at all since he was on his flight home. You pout as you lay in bed, hoping to get some sleep before he gets home. He was due to arrive back at your house around 4 am. You tossed and turned most of the night, excitement coursing through your veins, anxiety heavy on your chest. Sleep finally finds you around 1:00, body finally calming down.

Suna finally arrives home, softly announcing his arrival because he knew you were sleeping. He kicks his shoes off by the door, dropping his bag next to them before turning the lock and stalking up to your shared room. He opens the door to find you sleeping, blanket tangled around your waist. You were on your back, hair splayed out across the pillow and hands up by your head.

He smirks to himself as he slowly makes his way over to the bed and crawls up the mattress, pulling the blanket away from your nightgown clad body. He glances down to see the fabric bunched up around your waist, showing off your cute pink panties. His mouth waters at the sight before he forces his knee between your legs and covers your body with his own. For a second, the anger leaves his body, and he finds himself leaning down to press soft, sweet, lingering kisses to the skin on your throat. His hands are skimming along your arms, moving up to grip your wrists as he presses his nose to your skin and inhales your scent. He was so happy to be home, to have you waiting for him in his bed, to have you in his arms.

As he pulls back to look at you, a soft sigh leaves your lips before a pout settles on your face. The longer he stares at you, the more he can feel his anger bubbling up to the surface. He still couldn’t believe you sent him that video. And while he was in the locker room of all places! What if one of the other guys had seen it? Or worse, his coach?! He had told you before he left to only send him pictures and stuff while he is alone in his hotel room. Did you do it on purpose? Just to get a rise out of him before his game?

When he glances down at you again, he notices your eyes fluttering open. “Rin?” you mumble out, voice groggy. A sleepy smile crosses your face as your eyes finally focus on him. You try to move your hand to cup his cheek but find you can’t move it at all. You turn your gaze to see he has you pinned down by your wrists.

“Rin?” you ask a little louder, a little panicked. You feel your face get hot as you take a look at his beautiful, scowling face. “What’s wrong?” Your voice is small, but you’re afraid of what might happen if you’re any louder.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “What’s wrong?” he asks mockingly. “What did we talk about before I left, Y/N?”

You cock your head to the side at him. “Ummm,” you hum, averting your gaze, trying to remember the conversation you had in bed before he left. “That you’ll be back before I know it? And to not cry. You hated seeing me cry.”

His breath catches in his throat. So, you just forgot? You didn’t do it on purpose? That seemed to anger him more for some reason. One of his hands leaves your wrist to rub down his tired face and you use the opportunity to caress his cheek lovingly.

“I missed you,” you say quietly. You take a deep breath before asking the question that had been eating at you for the last week. “Did you not like my video?” Your face heats up in an instant, embarrassment evident on your features.

At first, he can’t believe it. He thinks you’re joking so he lets out a laugh. This immediately embarrasses you even more. You begin fighting your other hand out of his grip and pushing him away from you with your free one. Tears prick at the edges of your vision.

“Let me go,” you tell him, voice turning thick from trying to hold back the tears.

He grabs up the wrist pushing at him and gives you a firm look. “No,” he says simply.

Your bottom lip quivers and you turn your face away from his burning eyes, tears dropping onto the mattress below you. You yank your wrist free from his grasp and cover your face with your arm. If he wasn’t going to let you go, at least you could shield yourself from him.

In his annoyance, it suddenly dawns on him that you weren’t joking, and his eyes widen. He lets go of your other wrist and sits back on his knees. When he looks down, he sees your legs are still spread open to accommodate his body, nightgown still bunched up around your waist. Now, both of your arms are covering your face as he watches your chest rise and fall haphazardly in silent cries. He runs a hand through his hair before leaning back over your body, a hand reaching out to tentatively touch your arm.

As soon as his fingers make contact with your skin you whisper out a “Don’t.” He scowls down at you for a second before sighing and sitting back once more, opting to caress your thighs with his hands instead, loving the way your body shivers at his touch despite your being hurt.

“I loved the video,” he admits quietly, hands gently smoothing across the skin of the outside of your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat as warmth blossoms in your chest. You peak at him around your arms to see his brow furrowed, head hanging as he rubs his hands up and down your thighs. You sniffle as he continues on.

“I loved it so much, but I couldn’t even enjoy it,” he says, frowning now. “You sent it to me while I was in the locker room. Before a game.” He looks up to see you peering at him from around your arms. “What if one of my teammates saw?”

You remove your arms to glare at him around your tears. His heart clenches at the sight of your red, tear-stained face and swollen eyes. “That’s why you’re mad?” you ask.

He glares back at you. “I told you to only send me stuff like that when I’m in my hotel room,” he answers.

You lean up on your elbows to get a better look at him. “So instead of telling me how much you loved my video, you send ‘cute’ and get angry because someone else might have seen it?!”

His hand darts up to grasp your face tightly, pushing your cheeks together. You wrap your shaking hand around his wrist, biting your tongue through the pain.

“Yes,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Why?” you say around your squished cheeks, still glaring.

He leans down to your face. “Because you’re mine,” he answers, punctuating every word.

For some reason, the words shoot straight to your core and when you try to clench your legs, you realize his hips are in the way. Your face heats up once again, knowing there was no hiding that action. But if he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Do I need to remind you of that?” he asks. Your eyes go wide. The last time something like this happened, where he reminded you who you belonged to, you spent hours in bed being overstimulated to tears.

You frantically shake your head and swallow. He smirks at that before releasing your face and tracing the hand down your body. You surprise him by sitting up and fisting the fabric of his shirt at his waist. “Make love to me, Rin,” you practically beg. “I waited for you to come home. I sent you that video because I thought you would like it. I want you to make love to me.”

His eyes widen. You have never been so direct before and he finds himself gently cupping your face in his hands.

“Didn’t you miss me?” you whisper, eyes glistening at him with tears. “Don’t you want to fuck me too?” He clenches his jaw as he feels his dick twitch in his pants. If he was being honest, his cock had been on stand-by this whole time, half hard in his sweats. He just wasn’t close enough to you for you to take notice.

“Which is it, Y/N?” he asks, pupils dilating with lust as he stares down at your innocent expression. “Do you want me to fuck you? Or do you want me to make love to you?”

Your hands slowly move up to his chest, fisting the fabric once more and pulling him closer to you. “Fuck me, Rin,” you say against his lips.

He lets out a soft groan before finally crashing his lips to yours with a bruising force. He can feel the tension leave his body as you kiss him back. Maybe this is what he needed. He shouldn’t have come in so angry. Instead, he should have started by fucking you and talking after. He had so much pent-up frustration from being gone for over a month.

He presses your body back against the mattress and begins lavishing your neck with his tongue and lips, hands pushing your nightgown up your body until your breasts are bare. You’re arching your back into his touch, body touch starved and so reactive it was almost embarrassing. Every little brush of his fingertips has you gasping. And when his mouth latches around your right nipple, both of you let out a quiet moan.

Suna pulls back to flick his tongue across the hardening bud, and you tangle a hand in his dark locks. Your body is buzzing with electricity. When he moves a hand to grasp at your waist, you find yourself jumping at his touch.

You pull at his clothes, a whine leaving your lips until he pulls them off and tosses them to the floor, leaving just his boxers. As he leans back over you, he fits his hand into your panties, skilled fingers rubbing through your folds.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he teases. “And I’m just getting started.”

You part your legs more for him as you feel his middle finger press against your entrance. He slowly pushes the digit into you, a soft moan leaving both of your mouths at the feeling.

“God, you’re still so tight,” he breathes out. Your pussy clenches around him at the words and he chuckles. He leans down as he continues slowly pumping the finger into you, mouth closing around a nipple and harshly sucking.

Your back arches up into him, a hand tangling tightly into his locks as he adds a second finger and picks up his pace. You throw your head back and moan as he hooks his fingers inside of you, harshly rubbing against your g spot over and over. You cry out as your hips thrust up to meet his hand, orgasm approaching fast.

Suna swirls his tongue around your nipple before pulling back just in time to watch your face as you come undone beneath him, body writhing and shaking. He pulls his fingers from you and presses the slick covered digits against your clit, rubbing you through your orgasm.

When you finally calm down, he presses his fingers against your lips. You open your mouth obediently and he presses his fingers against your tongue, giving you a taste of yourself. You moan as he pumps his fingers into your mouth, your own hand pulling him free of his boxers and pumping his length.

He throws his head back and moans before he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth and shoving his boxers off. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, the head bright pink and leaking precum. Without warning, he sheathes himself inside of you to the hilt, smirking as you squirm beneath him, core burning at the sudden intrusion.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos in mock concern, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“So big,” you gasp out.

He chuckles darkly. “Aww, my poor baby,” he coos again. He moves to press kisses into the skin on your neck. You moan as he begins moving his hips. “But you’ll take this cock like a good girl, won’t you? Hmm?”

You nod, too afraid to speak.

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he sits back on his knees to look down at you. He settles his hands on your hips, gripping the fat tightly in his fingers, and sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with all of his pent-up frustration.

“That’s it, darling,” he praises. “Look at you, taking me so well.”

You whimper from beneath him, pleasure burning through your veins like wildfire. He shifts, angling his hips upward and hitting that spot inside of you without warning. You throw your head back and cry out, hands fisting into the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty underneath me,” he tells you. “Sound so pretty. I could fuck this cunt all day just to hear you.”

You clench around him, and he groans.

“Feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Rin,” you moan out as he picks up his pace, slamming his cock into you. Pleasure builds up in your core, cord pulling taut and threatening to snap.

Your moans become higher pitched and louder, signaling to him that you were close again.

“Cum for me,” he demands. “I want you to cum on my cock.”

As if on cue, your second orgasm washes over you, body shaking uncontrollably as Suna continues pushing his cock into you, moaning out at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

“Good god,” he gasps out as he stills himself, trying to keep himself from cumming so he can get one more out of his pretty girlfriend.

He leans over you as you come down, breath evening out.

“Give me one more, darling,” he murmurs.

You groan out as he starts dragging his cock through your walls again, pussy sucking him right back in. Tears prick at the edges of your vision as overstimulation sets in. His pace is slow and deep, but it’s building you right back up to the edge again at an embarrassing speed.

He presses his forehead against yours, rutting his hips into yours.

“Let me hear you,” he whispers and you moan out his name, lips brushing against his as you do.

Your body is on fire.

“That’s right, baby,” he gasps out. “Such a good girl for me.”

Suna’s thrusts pick up the pace, becoming sloppy and his orgasm approaches. You’re a wreck beneath him, nails digging into the skin on his back as your third orgasm washes over you and you cry out.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Suna warns, just barely in time before he is spilling his seed into you as your cunt sucks him dry. He continues fucking into you, giving you all he has before he is collapsing on top of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as exhaustion settles in and both of your breathing returns to normal. You begin drawing patterns onto his back with your index finger. He’s quiet for a long while and you begin to think he has fallen asleep until he props himself up above you and looks at you with love, admiration and tears in his eyes.

“Rin? What’s wrong?!” you question, panic evident in your voice.

“I’m sorry for being upset with you,” he apologizes, voice soft.

You cup his cheeks in your hands. “And I’m sorry for sending you that video when I knew you weren’t in your hotel.”

He turns and kisses the palm of your right hand. “Let me clean you up.”

You draw in a breath through your teeth as he leaves your body, and his seed slowly spills out of you. You stay where you are, too afraid to move until he’s cleaned you up.

Suna comes back and cleans you up quickly, leaving to put the now dirty rag in the hamper in the bathroom. You pull your panties back on and fix your nightgown, lying down to wait for him to come back and get into bed with you.

Sleep threatens to pull you under, finally successful when he gets into bed with you, pulling you back against his chest and whispering something you don’t catch into your ear.

[lumiaxz]

omg i love new tumblr creators!

Can you do konig as your boss and you need a raise ikik pretty stereotypical😋

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Anything for a raise you say? (boss konig x assistant reader)

warnings: face-fxcking, boss x assistant dynamic, degrading, sl*t-shaming, semi-public s*x, bl0wjob

an: omg a askkkk and ofc🤭🤭

an 2: lemme know if I missed any warnings

word-count: 638

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Another boring and tiresome day in the office, you hadn’t been able to buy your favorite coffee in a while due to bills and other things that usually come before a expensive ass cup of coffee that’ll hardly help. As you were working you received a phone call from your landlord.

“Hello Miss, I’m sorry for the inconvenience but it appears that you are a month behind on your rent. You have until next week to pay or I’ll be calling the moving team to empty your apartment, any further questions?”

“Oh god… Could I please just get one more month, this time I promise I’ll have it.”

“you said that last month, and the moth before that. Your lucky I haven’t already kicked you out. I’ll be collecting the cash next week on Sunday.”

you hang up. Your boss, König, sends you a email with more paperwork to fill out, he isn’t making this any easier. You owe your landlord 2k, you’ve owed that for quite some time now but at your salary per week you’ll never get there in time. After filling out the paperwork König had sent you realized, at this rate you’ll loose your apartment and you literally and physically cannot afford that.You knock on his door and after a few seconds of silence, he opens the door

“I’m not paying you to slack off and complain all the time.”

“And your not paying me enough at all, I need a raise.”

“Your telling me your 500$ paycheck each month isn’t enough?”

“Not enough to pay all of my bills, look König, im not asking for alot.”

He thought for a second, Why should he pay you extra to cover bills? It’s not his issue, but he’ll agree to help you, well under one condition..

“Suck me off, and I’ll cover your rent for the next 2 months. Simple isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t believe I stuttered, Suck me off, and I’ll cover your rent for the next 2 months.”

I wasn’t the end of the world, no. But you sure as hell didn’t want to suck him off for some money like a cheap whore, but you needed the money…. After some hard thinking, you agreed.

You walked around his desk and got on your knees

“Do I have to coach you on this too, or you know how?”

You roll your eyes and unzip his pants and reach into his boxer for his cock, you pull down his boxer slightly and his cock sprang out of his jeans, the sight was vomit inducing because of his size. You plant kitty licks and soft kisses all over his cock, the tease in you jumped in and took the wheel. You kiss his tip but König is not the type to just let you tease him, he grabs a fist full of your hair and pushes your head down, forcing you to take his entire length down your throat.Gagging and suppressed moans bounced off the walls as he bobbed your head up and down to the point where your eyes had rolled to the back of your head. An unexpected turn took, at least for him is when tears started flowing down your face. He couldn’t care less, In fact the sight turned him on even more.

“Look at you crying like a little whore, I almost feel bad for you.”

Your hands on his thighs as he rams his length in your mouth like a angry mountain goat, after some time he tightened his grip on your hair and with a final thrust his cum painted your mouth white.

“You made a mess all over my floor, clean it and yourself up.”

“Are you at least going to pay me?”

König smirked as he handed you a envelope with 4000$

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[liviusofpella]

Starry Night

Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Reyna) Book: Blades of Light and Shadow 2, chapter 3 Word count: 4000 Rating: T Warnings: emotional hurt Category: hurt/comfort Synopsis: Having reunited with most of her party, Reyna discovers the true extent of the traumatic events of the previous months. A/n: special thanks to @starlight-starfury for encouraging me to include Tyril speaking elven 🫰🏻 × Calanín - my light: elven word of affection, the elven equivalent of the Common language's "my love;" the elves believe that love is often fleeting, but the Light is constant, and the most precious resource they possess. Tag list: @starlight-starfury @cashweasel @watatsumi-island @lilyoffandoms @sophie-summer @lazypartridge @brycesgirl @agattthaa @secret-fungi @megas-choices (if anyone wishes to be added/removed pls let me know!) @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Nia, Mal, and the children had developed a routine, thanks to which the kids changed into their pyjamas, brushed their teeth, and were tucked in under thirty minutes. If one would take Nia at her word, developing the schedule took weeks, but due to eager cooperation the group managed to reduce the time from two hours to just thirty minutes, saving the guardians a considerable amount of time—time that they would spend reading, searching, and discussing the possible methods of rescuing Reyna. After ten minutes, Nia and Mal returned downstairs, having wished the kids a good night and slumped in the chairs, exhausted. Soon, the giggles and banter upstairs quietened down, and Mal breathed out a sigh of relief while Nia smiled at her friends, her features softened by the warm candlelight. 

“Can I offer you anything? Water, tea? We don’t have much, but I’d love to host you properly,” the Priestess chirped, already rising from her seat, but Tyril held out his hand to stop her. 

“It’s alright, thank you, Nia. Save what you have for the children.”

Nia nodded, while the elf rested his left hand on Reyna’s thigh, gently squeezing it in a poorly disguised display of affection. Her lips curved in a soft smile, and she vaguely covered his hand with her own before addressing the rogue before her.

“Lord Weasley of Riverbend, huh?” 

Mal smiled sheepishly and scratched his neck, blushing faintly as if he had been caught in a lie. “I had to improvise, and Riverbend just happened to occupy my mind an awful lot lately.”

“Gotta admit, you really nailed the accent. If I hadn’t known better, I’d think you were a native,” she winked, drawing a laugh from Mal.

“What can I say? I had spent an awful lot of time with you, kit.”

Nia joined the conversation. “How is Kade? I’ve been meaning to visit him, but there was always something urgent to attend to, and…”

“He’s doing just fine, cooped up in the library or in the royal gardens with Loola and Threep. He’s made the Master Librarian his archenemy, though.”

The Priestess chuckled. As Mal rested his arm on the back of her seat, a quiet yawn escaped Reyna’s lips and her eyes watered uncontrollably. She rested her head against Tyril’s shoulder, continuing to smile at her friends. Although she did not feel the true length of her absence, she had missed them, and at that moment she felt at peace. 

The idyllic atmosphere was disrupted by a quiet childish giggle coming from the top of the stairs, and the group's heads turned simultaneously in that direction. Mal sighed exhaustedly and rubbed his tired eyes before addressing the children.

“Guys, we talked about staying up past bedtime!”

The grave silence that followed his remark was soon interrupted by barefoot steps and the creaking of the old wooden floor. A frail, pale blonde girl stood next to Mal and whispered in his ear, her big eyes glued to Reyna. In response, Mal smiled at the child and nodded. “Do you want me to introduce you?”

The girl nodded her head excitedly, and he addressed his friend. 

“Kit, this is Nyra, she's a big fan of yours.” 

Reyna's brows furrowed. "Fan?"

“Mal and Nia often told us stories of your adventures! My favourite is the one when you ran after Duchess Xenia and fought her! I want to be as brave as you when I grow up!” the girl chattered reedily. “Can I ask you a question?”

"Ask away, Nyra," she sent the girl an encouraging smile, squeezing Tyril's hand under the table. 

"Weren't you afraid?"

"I'd be crazy not to be afraid,” she smiled. “Bravery isn't about not being afraid, it's about doing the right thing despite fear."

The girl nodded, drinking the words off Reyna’s lips, staring at her heroine in awe. 

“Now go to sleep, Nyra,” Mal rubbed the girl’s arm, softly pushing her towards the stairs. Before disappearing in the darkness, Nyra waved at the couple, and Reyna sighed.

“Said like a true hero,” Nia concluded while the men agreed silently. 

“It’s good to see you, guys. I just wish Imtura was with us.”

“We’ll find her, don’t fret, Rey-Rey,” Mal assured. The nickname made Reyna groan.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“How about Rey of Sunshine?”

Reyna glowered at him. “Mal, I’m warning you.”

“Reiny?”

“Oh, I like Rey!” Nia joined in the conversation, grinning. 

“What do you think of “Reine”? I think it suits your personality,” the thief continued. “What do you think, elf boy?”

Tyril, smiling softly at the course the conversation took, looked to his left at his partner, his eyes glistening with the reflection of a nearby candlelight. “I believe my answer falls under a public display of affection.”

Nia brightened up. “Aw! It’s so nice seeing you two together again. Tyril had been so miserable without you, Reyna.”

“Tyril, my man, I’d like to remind you that we were direct neighbours at the Palace and their walls are surprisingly thin, so you really shouldn’t be em—”

Tyril cut in, blushing. “Stop talking.”

Grinning, the rogue continued teasing, pointing to Reyna with a nod of his head, while Nia and Tyril grew considerably more abashed. “I see you already had a chance to celebrate.”

Reyna touched her neck, remembering the necklace of red love bites that her lover bestowed upon her the previous night, and bit her lip, slightly embarrassed. She forgot to cover the bruises in the morning as she was in a hurry. The Priestess intervened.

“Stop teasing them, Mal. They’re young and in love, of course they celebrated their reunion.”

In love. The couple looked away, uncomfortable with the subject, but Nia continued, oblivious to their discomfort.

“I’ve been meaning to ask before—” she bit her tongue, cleared her throat, and continued. “Who said it first? Was it romantic? I bet it was! Tyril always had a way with words and—”

“Oh, Priestess, read the room!” Mal chuckled. The redhead’s smile faltered as she raised her eyebrows in question, tilting her head slightly. The rogue explained. “Look at them! Elf boy’s about to turn dark purple, they obviously haven’t said that yet.”

Nia’s lips shaped into the letter “o” as the realisation dawned on her, but before she had a chance to apologise, Reyna intervened. “Alright! It was great to see you, but we should go. It’s getting late, and we need to rest.”

“True,” Mal agreed. “No offence, but you look terrible, lordling.”

“It takes one to know one, thief.”

“You don’t like my haircut? You wound me,” with feigned offence, Mal placed a hand over his heart, making Tyril roll his eyes. Reyna smiled at the exchange, but agreed with Tyril. Mal looked exhausted, the dark spots under his eyes and slouched posture explicit evidence of that. “Let me walk you to the door.”

Hugging Reyna goodbye, Nia whispered, squeezing her eyelids tight. “Please, don’t disappear again.”

Reyna rubbed her friend’s back reassuringly before moving away from the warm embrace. “I’ll do my best.”

“Your disappearance wreaked havoc, kit,” Mal admitted quietly, patting her back. “I know it may look like we just moved on, but there wasn’t a day Nia didn’t stay up late sifting through the Temple’s scrolls in search of rescue. Whenever I got a promising lead, it turned out to be just an urban legend. We—” his voice broke. In no hurry, Mal took a deep breath and moved away, his hands resting on Reyna’s shoulders. “We really tried, kit. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”

Reyna smiled comfortingly. “Don’t beat yourself up, Mal. I’m here, in one piece, am I not?”

He smiled. “I suppose.”

“Thank you for trying.”

Unpersuaded by her assurance, Mal nodded weakly, and before the couple took their leave, he patted Tyril’s arm. “Don’t let her out of your sight. See you in the morning.”

Strolling through the streets of the capital, slowly climbing towards the Whitetower castle, Tyril and Reyna grudgingly discussed the following day’s plan, in the meantime looking around for a seamstress. Despite the late hour, one of the very last vendors was still folding clothes in the town square, and being in desperate need of a more appropriate gear, Reyna left Tyril waiting outside. Patiently pacing around the ornate fountain, the elf studied a nearby florist when his gaze stopped at a bouquet of familiar flowers in the man’s hands. It took a bit of haggling and bragging about his title for Tyril to purchase the flowers imported from his homeland—black-petaled frilly sunflowers with luminescent red stamen—but he purchased them, and he could not suppress the proud smile on his face when Reyna emerged from the building with a paper package in her hands. He handed her the gift wordlessly.

“Oh! What’s the occasion?” 

“There is no occasion. These flowers are native to Undermount, we call them melissë anar’insil. They were my mother’s favourite, she grew them in our garden, and…” he bit his lip, blushing slightly. “And they remind me of you.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, awestruck. “Thank you, Tyril. But you shouldn't have, they look like they have cost a fortune."

"There's a possibility that the saviour got a discount."

A hearty laugh escaped her lips upon hearing the word saviour yet another time the same day. "Admit it, you like being the hero."

Tyril bit his lip, trying to contain his smile. "I suppose the title carries some benefits."

Chuckling, she climbed on the tip of her toes and pressed her lips to his for a short, sweet kiss. She could still faintly taste the sour lime lemonade with mint on his lips, the drink he claimed his favourite, the memory bringing a smile to her face. She thought of their first, and at the same time last, date—the day they partook in festival activities, roamed the streets of Whitetower holding hands, made love in a secluded tower, and ended up intoxicating themselves at a local tavern with Riverbendian drinks. As if reading her mind, Tyril’s lips curved in a knowing smile.

“Does the name of the flower mean anything in Common?” she asked, interlacing their fingers. Resuming their lazy stroll back to the castle, the elf nodded, yet he took his time with the answer, eventually smiling sheepishly. 

“It translates to ‘the lovers’ sunflower.’ These sunflowers are considered the flower of royalty in Undermount as due to their rarity only the wealthiest can afford them, and they symbolise devotion, loyalty, and adoration.”

Nodding, Reyna brought the bouquet closer to her face and took a deep breath. The smell was sweet but not overpowering, reminding her of the first days of summer, and the exact smell of Tyril’s bedchamber in Undermount. She remembered walking out to the balcony when he fell asleep and seeing the luminescent stamen in the darkness, thinking how otherworldly they made the garden look. 

“I can see why these were your mother’s favourites.”

“Their appearance is but a fraction of the reason for her admiration. Mother adored them because father asked for her hand in marriage with half a dozen bouquets of these flowers and had showered her with grandiose bouquets ever since on the most important occasions. She always said it’s a perfect addition to any confessions and talked very fondly of the day Adrina was born as father had the Manor’s ballroom filled with flowers,” Tyril reminisced, his gaze distant but a smile was playing on his lips.  

“I’d love to hear more about your mom, she sounds like a very kind soul.”

Tyril nodded. “She was. However, that is a story for another day. We should hurry, it will rain soon.”

The moment Tyril locked their chamber's door, the toller announced the clock struck eleven and Reyna plopped down on the mattress exhausted. 

"You don't have to buy me flowers if you want to propose, I'm a simple girl, Tyril," she teased, yawning. The elf flushed purple, realising how inauspiciously he crafted his words back in the town square, and smiled at her. "Duly noted."

"And if you want to fool around, just stay the word," she winked, unlacing the corset of her dress. "Not today, though, I'm dead on my feet."

"Ever the romantic," he smiled. As he helped her out of her clothes and into a loose nightgown, Tyril made sure she was tightly tucked in, and soon joined her, stroking her back until she fell asleep.  

People have a saying, one that Tyril overheard while patrolling the streets of Port Parnassus, just minutes before he first bumped into Reyna. They say that what does not kill will make you stronger, and during the year she was gone he prayed it was true. He hoped all this suffering was not in vain.

Yet now she was here with him and he felt everything but stronger. He felt weak, broken, undeserving. He couldn't protect her. It should've happened to him. 

He hadn't slept the night before—after he lulled his beloved to sleep, he stayed guard in case of the worst. It gave him plenty of time to look at her, admire the features that he had prayed to see again, to assess the damage she had suffered at the hands of… Of who exactly? She didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't push her. Overwhelming her was the very last thing he wanted to make her feel so soon after returning; alas, because of that choice, his imagination was running wild. His mind was painting the pictures of Reyna running through the obsidian desert, fighting the remaining Shadow soldiers, battered, aghast, and disappointed she had to save herself because the people closest to her had failed. 

Studying the fresh horizontal scar on her inner arm, Tyril ventured into a dangerous territory of fear-fueled theories as to what lay ahead. The Shadow Realm was an unexplored area, where unlike Morella they were on a hiding to nothing. Tyril did not doubt the loyalty and capability of their group, but they managed to win the fight against the Dreadlord by a stroke of fortune—had it not been for the Priestess’ sacrifice, the party would have lost at least two members, himself included. If the new enemy was indeed a competition to the Shadow Court, they needed allies. 

Tyril noticed that upon her return, Reyna not only possessed new wounds and scars, but also lacked that mesmerising glint in her eye, her movements were slower, and body weaker, not to any sudden or loud noises paralysed her with fear. Reyna came back different. Tyril would even risk saying that it was not Reyna who came back. Not the one he knew. It was someone new entirely.

The woman next to him took in a shuddering breath, her fingers gripping the duvet tightly. Restless even in her sleep, Reyna was indisputably facing the consequences of living through numerous traumatic events within a short time period without respite. Reaching forward, Tyril smoothed out the worried crease between her brows with his thumb, deluding himself that with this simple gesture he was able to transfer all her worries onto himself. 

Take the utmost care of her and relay that Father and I rejoice at the news of Reyna’s return! 

Against his will, Tyril’s mind replayed the moment of reading Adrina's letter. Could he truly protect Reyna? Without demur, he would give his life trying to ensure her safety, albeit such sacrifice seemed pointless from his current standpoint. If he was gone, who would protect her?

“I suppose sleep is not my ally tonight,” she sighed to herself, having woken up from a nightmare-filled sleep. Wrapped in their sheets, Reyna observed Tyril, carefully studying his back, the hair that cascaded over his muscles, the way the moonlight reflected on his skin and how utterly ethereal he looked against the starry night sky. He was sitting on his legs on the balcony, facing the city, unnaturally still. As concern gripped her heart, Reyna cautiously walked over and touched his shoulder. 

"Tyril, are you alright?"

The elf looked up, snapped out of his reverie, and his hand covered hers mechanically. "I was meditating. I'm alright."

As it dawned on her, she covered her lips with a hand, doused with a wave of embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's— that makes much more sense than what I feared," she blubbered. She did not intend to reveal the exact reason of her concern, he did not need to hear that her initial thought was that he had been petrified the same way Kaya was. "I won't bother you any longer, I'll just—"

Tyril slowly rose to his feet and rubbed her arm. "It's alright, Reyna, I was supposed to finish a long time ago anyway. Let's get you back to bed."

As his hand rested on the small of her back, he noticed the dampness of her skin. 

"Do you do that often? Meditate?"

He nodded. "It's supposed to be only thirty minutes a day, but…" he sighed. "Once the feasible solutions were depleted, I started praying for a miracle. There was nothing more that I could do but pray, so I prayed for hours on end."

Reyna bit her bit as an impulsive thought emerged in her mind. "Would you pray with me?"

As the look of surprise flowered on his face, his brows furrowed, but his expression changed into a kind, encouraging smile within seconds.

"Absolutely. Is there anything in particular you'd wish to pray for?" 

Her answer was affirmative. "Do you mind telling me a bit more about your prayers first? I'm not exactly religious, and I don't know much about your gods, but I feel like it's the right thing to do."

"Anyone is welcome to seek comfort and guidance from the gods, you needn't be religious for that," he reassured. "We do not have many prayers per se as we'd rather engage in a silent conversation with the gods during meditation, but should one need a prayer there is a universal formula. I can't know for certain, but I believe the gods would look kindly on prayers for blessing or good fortune," he explained, gently rubbing her back as he guided her inside. As they made themselves comfortable on the silk carpet, assuming the exact position Reyna found him in, the elf interlaced their fingers and rested their hands on his lap. "I suppose one could also pray to nature, as do orcs, although I haven't heard of my kind practising that."

"I'd like to pray for Kaya, to put in a good word for her, so she can rest easily," she breathed out quickly, almost cutting him short. When his expression fell, she rapidly added: "Unless that's not how it works, then—"

"No, it's just— it's very thoughtful of you," he smiled, and Reyna breathed a sigh of relief. "If you wish, you may repeat after me, but it’s not necessary since you may find it challenging to pronounce certain words.”

“I’ll try,” she nodded and took a deep breath. As soon as Tyril noticed her shoulders relax, he began reciting the prayer, slowly, pronouncing the words clearly, giving her time to repeat. 

“Alcarvalda nostar, varyando o in nór nosyë, iqulmë lissë an vilissë o Kaya Duskraven. Cé pataro imbi eleni, nínion ‘nin gwannad lîn. Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath.”

As he finished, the elf stroked her knuckles softly, observing her carefully. Reyna was on edge, that was clear, although he could not figure out the exact reason—however, as tears spilled from her tightly shut eyes, he intervened, closing her in an embrace.

"Do you think she rests in peace? That Xenia's deed hadn't influenced her eternal rest?"

"I believe our Gods are omniscient and just, and as they welcomed Kaya, they saw her for the wonderful person she was before her life was stolen from her."

She hummed in response. They stayed like this for several minutes until Reyna’s breath evened out, and a yawn slipped past her lips. Tyril helped her climb onto the mattress and lulled her to sleep, just the night before, telling her a story of Undermount society’s attempts to open the city to the world. "Thank you," she whispered. “I— The prayer did bring me some comfort.”

Two hours. It took only two hours for Reyna to wake up again. She sat up straight, her skin blanketed with sweat. Tyril stroked her back through the damp gown as she took deep breaths to compose herself. 

"It's alright," he comforted repeatedly, allowing her to rest on his chest and cry out all the emotions bothering her at that moment. 

But it wasn't alright. At that moment, Reyna could not remember the nightmare that caused her to wake up drenched in sweat and with a plea on her lips, but she felt utterly devastated and powerless, and no amount of consolation was able to calm her down. Her heart would not stop pounding against her ribcage as tears would not stop flowing down her cheeks, and the terror she awakened to deftly transfigured into suffocating panic that immediately alerted the elf. 

Fixing their position so that they were sitting facing each other, Tyril's palms cradled her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Reyna, focus on me, alright? Breathe with me, take as long and deep breaths as you can, and hold it in for five seconds," he instructed, feeling his equilibrium wane as the woman before him struggled to settle her nerves. The calming spell was ready to roll from the tip of his tongue when at last Reyna took a deep, shaky breath. 

He counted down the seconds out loud for her, time after time, until her muscles relaxed, and the body became heavy in his hands. The back of his hand wiped the drops of sweat off her forehead as he laid her down, back to the same position she woke up in, and kissed her cold temple, pressing his lips for several long seconds.

She hadn't slept well the night before, and that night would probably be no different. Rubbing her back up and down, he proposed to tell her another story, in a poor attempt to help her fall asleep. 

"Just hold me, please,” she pleaded. And as a devout worshipper, Tyril held her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, although his heart ached seeing his partner in pain. 

"Are you asleep?" 

Startled, Tyril blinked repeatedly to rid his eyes of the remainder of sleep. "No." 

“I want to cut my hair.”

The elf’s brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze focusing on the pendulum clock on the far side of the room. “Now? It’s three in the morning.”

“I need a change, and my hair reminds me of what—” she held her tongue. “Will you help me or not?”

Rubbing off the blur in his eyes, Tyril rolled off the bed and approached the mirror she was sitting in front of.

"Are you certain?"

"Just do it."

Visibly unstrung and beaded with sweat, Reyna sat facing the vanity mirror, holding back tears. Unconvinced, he took his own sword from her hand and gripped the hilt tightly. Several seconds and one skilful swish of the sword later, inches of her dark locks hit the floor silently. Holding her blurry gaze in the reflection, Tyril inquired further.

“Calanín, what’s troubling you?”

Reyna dismissed his worry with a shake of her head and made her way to the en-suite bathroom. “Sorry for waking you up,” she added before disappearing into the dimly lit room. The last sound he had heard before drifting off to a turbulent sleep was that of Reyna climbing into the ornate bath. 

As the full moon gave way to the sun, coolness to sparkling dew and thin fog, the couple set out to meet their friends, shyly setting out on a new adventure, leaving the turbulent night but a memory. 

[cloudcountry]

JUST COMING IN TO SAY DON’T BE LIKE ME

I’ve had like seven weeks to work on a 2000-word History assignment and I’m literally only starting it the day before school starts ☠️ And it’s due next week Monday ☠️ And literally the week after that a 4000-word essay is due and I still haven’t started it,, It’s also due on Monday ☠️ 

BUT ON ANOTHER NOTE,,, I procrastinated some more and started a very self-indulgent piece where Yuuta and my Loop!Reader interact 💀✌️ I’ll try and share it with you sometime, but as you can guess, I’m really busy ＿|￣|○ I literally have no one to blame but myself for my actions ASJFGHBDFJFGV

Jackdaw Anon 🐦

JACKDAW ANONNNN PLEASE GO DO YOUR WORK :C AT LEAST START IT!! MAP OUT YOUR PAPERS!! BUT TAKE BREAKS IN BETWEEN :((((

yuuta is so squishy i adore him. BUT PELASE BEFORE YOU DO THAT DO YOUR WORK. YUUTA CAN BE YOUR TREAT. BUT PELASE DO UR RESPONSBILITIES FIRST AND FOREMOST!!! ^^

[streetlights-was-taken]

[postscript] the gardener who only collects seeds

← read on AO3 (available on 230415)

for venlumiweek2023.

day 6: time loop au / "say you'll remember me"

i. conceptualizing the fic

oh god. I'll be honest, I wasn't planning to do this fic at all. but I think time loop and memory are very cool concepts and I would be remiss not to write anything for the day 6 prompts when I have a series dedicated to exploring these very concepts (caesura).

I shuffled through a bunch of ideas. I already had a "time loop"-ish idea back in february, but it was too ambitious to finish before this year’s venlumi week starts. it's like a choose your own adventure fic. if you're interested, I have a demo of how it works here (archive-locked, so you need an AO3 account to access).

unfortunately, writing that fic is the equivalent to writing 9+ fics and becoming an indie game designer. I know my limits. (I might still try writing it one day. but it will definitely take some time.)

the second idea I had for a time loop fic was to write about a storyteller (venti) rewriting their story over and over because it’s never perfect. and each rewrite of the story manifests as a time loop for the characters within it. he does this until he can create a beautiful story, but also because he deeply cares for the characters in it (lumine) and wants the best for them.

but I decided I couldn’t write it exactly that way because I don’t think venti is that much of a perfectionist. he observes and he records, but he's pretty chill about how events unfold. I think that would be more believable for lumine to be the perfectionist, given the hints of her having a martyr/hero complex. however, I do think venti is a great spectator-type of character, and I don’t want his affinity for memories/wind/time to go to waste.

I ended up with the semi-final idea for this fic after taking inspiration from this tumblr post about self-inflicted time loops:

a self-inflicted time loop where lumine keeps rewinding time until she can save everyone in teyvat. venti, who records everything through the winds, is aware of each time loop. lumine, who loses her own humanity as she becomes obsessed with doing a perfect run, rewinding at the slightest inconvenience and failing to connect with the people she wants to save with every loop. and finally venti, who takes pity on her and erases her memory, because he knows lumine will always save teyvat, just as she has 167 times. but she cannot save herself.

it's a little tragic and bittersweet… but I guess I really like writing this kind of fic. I developed the lore around this a bit more as I wrote (more in the next section).

other ideas I considered were:

looping just one event (but genshin doesn't have one that compels me)

doing something similar to link click and life is strange where the character visits the past through photographs (but genshin also didn't compel me here; I like the idea, but I'll probably just write a link click fic if that's the case).

finally, I actually planned for this to only be a 4000-word oneshot because I wanted to finish the fic in one weekend. for some reason, I ended up with 8000 words in three days. uh. yeah.

due to the deadline I set for myself, I did not have the time to polish this fic. I did give this a rough SPAG-edit, but the fic you're reading now is pretty much the first draft with hardly any revisions. there are some concepts that I probably could have executed more elegantly (such as when istaroth breaks the fourth wall). but I didn't really have the time develop this story more, unfortunately.

(there's something quite meta about this too, now that I think about it. we have a fic about a storyteller learning to be satisfied with their story, and what do I — the author of the fic — do? I post the first draft as it is, without revisions 😆)

ii. lore™ and other inspirations

this fic is actually a cool case of plantsing for me. I had a rough outline of the fic for lumine's chapter through the idea I explored above (plotting). but as I was writing venti's chapter, I ended up creating all this lore in the background purely through discovery writing (pantsing).

I was actually going to scrap the idea of venti being a storyteller and teyvat being his story. but then I was thinking of another fic idea (separate from venlumi week) and one of my inspirations for it was the parable of the tree in the in-game book before sun and moon. there is a line there that says:

for it is the god of moments who is able to take "seeds" from this "moment" into the past and the future.

this is where I got the idea of turning each time loop into a seed! this also ties neatly into the phrase, "seeds of stories, brought by the wind, cultivated by time."

the idea of storyteller venti soon evolved into him not just writing a story to be told, but composing a world/story to be "planted" into the fabric of reality. in a way, all the time loops are simulations of a reality that is yet to be created. (this is also an idea I played with in the cyoa demo too, though I wasn't really sure if I was going to use that idea in this fic until I started writing venti's chapter).

the title is also a play on this concept. the gardener is, of course, venti, who collected 256 seeds over the course of composing the world of teyvat.

composing is a neat word because it refers to the act of creating through artistic labor, and it is specifically tied to the idea of producing works of music and literature. which is exactly what a bard does! so I used composer as the title of... whatever it is venti and istaroth does.

with all of these elements in place, I can't help but take inspiration from other works as well. specifically:

svsss: my favorite thing about this novel is shen yuan and shang qinghua’s relationship with the narrative, so I was also inspired by that as well. particularly, how shen yuan’s kindness literally changed the narrative. and the overall readership/authorship commentary we have from shang qinghua. (cumplane also happens to be my favorite ship from this novel, which is fun to think about some meta subtext fuckery going on there where all the other characters falling for sqq just further legitimizes cumplane because those characters are all figments of sqh's imagination and— okay I'll stop here now because this is not the point of this post. but yeah basically the idea of the author falling for someone in the story and the world reflecting those intentions.)

twewy: I wrote a lot of twewy fics back in the day so you can't expect me to write about composers and not think about twewy. twewy doesn't really tie into the fic too much besides the whole composer thing, but when you're really into twewy it just makes the fic extra fun I think. like I said in the end notes, I was this 🤏 close to write seed:168 where venti knowingly calls lumine by name before asking for it, just like how joshua does it with neku in week two.

finally, I decided on 168 loops for lumine as a reference to the number of materials you need to ascend a character (this is also the same number of loops in the dream-battle samsara with scaramouche).

I decided on 88 loops for venti because 256 was the number of dots I can use for the hourglass art lol. it was just a happy coincidence that 256-168=88, and that 88 is a neat number to end a time loop with.

iii. a time loop is a puzzle

it really is! often, the character is already stuck in some way before the time loop starts, and the time loop breaks when they either achieve character development or break the puzzle that is trapping them.

I think lumine and venti approach the time loop puzzle from opposite ends. lumine regresses through her time loop. she becomes less connected to the world through it, and she aims for perfection that she can't achieve. she starts seeing her friends as more like characters in an unskippable cutscene than as people.

meanwhile, venti actually grows through his time loop. he began as a composer, but only through going through several lifetimes does he start to understand what it actually means to live and to love. he connects more with the world around him as he goes through the loops. he sees his characters more as people, as friends, and he is delighted that lumine can bring out the complexities that they offer instead of letting them stay as tropey stereotypes.

for both characters, the time loops are self-inflicted. they can stop at any time. venti lets go of his control over the time loops to lumine because that was his ultimate expression of love at that time. this was proof that he grew through the loops.

lumine was actually already in her best form in venti's 87th loop. she was in a world that was designed to love her, and she in turn was a loving person. however, venti advised her to focus on the destination instead of the journey. then he gave her the hourglass. this changes lumine's character and enables her regression in the time loops.

only by breaking the time loop and resetting her back to how she was in the beginning does she go back to her loving self. she was already happy before. venti didn't need to change her.

it is with both time loops that venti learns all his lessons in life and creates the most optimally designed world for lumine to love.

iv. narrative arrangement and the emotional journey

although the story started with lumine's chapter, this is very much a venti-centric story. lumine's chapter, for me, served more as a prologue to what was really going on in the background.

I quite like how I arranged the narrative. it is not chronological, but I think it most effectively delivers the emotional journey I want the reader to experience. lumine's chapter serves as an introduction to the time loop, the kind of world she lives in, and the kind of effects a self-inflicted loop can bring about. lumine knows less about the mechanics of this world, and she is the protagonist of venti's story, so she serves her role well as the one to introduce us this world. it also makes her into an unreliable narrator sometimes.

then she tips the hourglass at the end of her chapter. the reader is then transported to venti's chapter and his time loop. it's a bit of twist later on that his time loop actually happens before lumine's, so we actually get two time loops in one chapter. one is venti's loop, and the other is his pov during lumine's loop.

inserting venti's loop in between two povs of lumine's loop (first chapter, lumine pov; second half of second chapter, venti pov) also shows the contrast of the two loops more. where lumine regresses, venti grows. where venti becomes hopeful, lumine becomes hopeless. and so on, and so forth.

his pov in lumine's time loop is also important to show how much impact lumine leaves in his world. when she loves, the world loves her back. when she is detached, the story breaks apart in different ways. tighnari doesn't trust her, albedo becomes obsessive, festivals become gloomy (and come on. genshin is festival impact. when there are no archon quests, festivals are the bread and butter of this game).

the second chapter has two loops to follow, like an hourglass. the structure of the second chapter is very reminiscent of one imo. though I didn't really plan that out as I was writing; it's just something I noticed during my own read through of the draft. pretty neat how things can end up like that. I think this is what people call serendipity.

v. planting seeds and breaking walls

this part is, admittedly, probably something I could have executed better. I debated over just not doing it, but I wanted to try anyway and see if it works. I love meta bullshit in my stories.

yes, the seed istaroth plants is not really about teyvat: venti's world, but about venti and lumine themselves. about their story through the loops. in other words, the fic you read, the story you witnessed, is exactly the story istaroth planted into reality.

there's some funky implications about this. are we, the readers/author, also observers and composers? hm, yeah, we are. venti even mentions that his composition are just words on a screen.

without its protagonist and without its creator, it is nothing more than words on a screen. a story to be read, but not one that can come to life.

and when istaroth addresses the reader, she also looks beyond the screen.

she looks up, beyond the screen, and smiles. "and that will be a story worth observing."

there are other hints too. the higher dimension is also called the "fourth plane" (aka, the fourth wall). it's even a little cheeky that istaroth says, "we will bear witness to whatever story you choose." because that's exactly what is already happening. every time someone opens this fic and reads it, it is already being observed. we are already bearing witness to the story venti and lumine composed.

well, that was my intention with all of those lines anyway. I'm not sure if it was too subtle or too obvious, or if it fell flat and didn't quite land like I wanted to.

either way, I tried. I'll let the reader decide on that.

vi. ascii art?

honestly, I've thought about looking up if I can do ASCII art on AO3. but I only gave myself three days to finish this whole thing, so I decided against it.

I still ended up coding hourglasses in HTML while procrastinating on this fic lol.

fun fact: the lower half of the hourglass in the first chapter (the triangle, excluding the falling dots) add up to 256 dots. the hourglass in venti's chapter (including the neck) add up to 88 dots.

[starpeace]

Check out The Locked Tomb pls it's about lesbian necromancers

every day somebody tells me to read the locked tomb. yes i know it’s tailormade for me 😭 truly i wish i had the time. soon

[kylewalker-peters]

the fact this is the first time in my uni education that i’ve finished an essay the evening before rather than starting it the evening before it’s due and yet it’s the biggest piece of shit essay i’ve ever written

what the fuck is wrong with me

[fjoundfjamily]

i watched 4 (four) episodes of crit role yesterday oops

[lovetorn]

lost essay [roommate!dream au]

pairing: dream x reader

summary: exactly how the title sounds :')

w/c: 595

a/n: i’m having too much fun with these blurbs, i’ve got like 4 completed ones ready to post! enjoy this short one xox

roommate!dream masterlist

—

“No, no, no!” You repeat, continuously pressing the spacebar of your laptop. The screen goes dark and the usually loud fan dies down, engulfing the apartment in silence. You stare blankly at the black mirror and feel your stomach drop.

You didn’t plan on getting so emotional over a materialistic object, but the essay you had been working on for the past 2 weeks and everything you had on the computer, was now gone. All of your research and all of your progress; gone.

You sniffle obnoxiously as the tears keep falling. The sound of the apartment door unlocking and opening draws you from your state and your sadness is replaced with embarrassment—you hope Dream hasn’t brought any of his friends over. But, you hear no voices or extra footsteps with him and allow yourself to cry like you were before.

“Honey, I’m home,” He jokes, placing his backpack on the floor next to the kitchen counter. He calls your name and when he doesn’t get a reply, he makes his way past the counter and towards the couch, where he finally spots you.

“Hey, hey, whoa,” Dream says gently, seeing your tear-stained face. His hands find your trembling shoulders and then he kneels in front of you. “What happened?”

You struggle to get the words out and simply point around him at your laptop. The black screen reflects the silver streaks down your face and your bleary eyes and the sight makes you more emotional.

“My laptop carked it!” You cry, throwing your arms around Dream’s shoulders. He leans backwards in surprise but soon wraps his muscly arms around your waist. “A-And I had nearly finished my 4000 word report, Dream! 4000 words! And now it’s gone.”

Dream’s large hands rub your back warmly and the feeling brings you more comfort than you’d like to admit.

“When’s it due?” He whispers, pulling away slightly. His hands move to rest on your waist and yours on his shoulders.

“Wednesday,” It’s Sunday.

“Okay…” Dream trails off in thought. He has a slight crease between his brows and you place your thumb on the spot to smooth it out. The action makes his cheeks red, and yours heat up in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Is all you manage before he starts talking.

“It’s fine. How about a deal, I will help you get a new laptop and write your essay, and you go buy the groceries this week,” You tilt your head in contemplation. The offer is very tempting and works out perfectly; Dream did this unit last semester.

“Yes! Yes, I accept your deal,” You grin, your eyes still watery. Dream smiles softly at you, his face void of any annoyance, only showing contentment. His eyes are wide with worry and you could count the freckles on his cheeks from how close you are. Your heart suddenly leaps at the sudden realisation of the position you’re in and warmth rises in your chest. “Uh—”

Dream’s eyes widen and then he takes his hands away from your waist. “Sorry! Sorry, oh my god,” He then stands up and twists his lips nervously. “I’m gonna go work on my project and then we can go to Apple,” He tosses his thumb over his shoulder towards his room.

You want to slap yourself for being so awkward and wipe your eyes. You watch him almost trip over the corner of the couch and shout a quick ‘thank you!’ at him. He throws his arm backwards in a thumbs-up, ‘no problem!’, and continues into his room, letting the door close after him.

[spine-buster]

the female bonding.

gif credit @/lovershines14

A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter here, but we get to see some of our favourite SBU ladies again AND I promise that the next chapter is 4000+ words!

CW: this chapter contains mentions of drug use

Lusine was sitting in her HIS204 German History lecture when she got an incoming text from Bee.

Lusine had no idea what her life had become in the several short weeks since she’d met Rasmus. First of all, she’d met a hockey player, and not just any hockey player – a Toronto Maple Leaf. And she didn’t just meet him – he saved her from a disastrous date. And then not only did he take her out on a coffee date and then a dinner date, but she attended one of his hockey games and met Aberdeen fucking Bloom, one of her favourite authors. And now, the other wives and girlfriends of the team – women like Bee – were texting her, asking her to get together, even though she and Rasmus weren’t even official yet.

What was her life?

The boys were on a road trip after their loss to Pittsburgh last night – first to Long Island, then off to the west coast to face Los Angeles, San Jose, and Anaheim before coming home. Lusine had promised Rasmus she’d watch the Islanders game, but didn’t make any promises about the California games due to the time change. Now Bee wanted her over to watch the game?

Lusine grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do was inconvenience Bee – or anyone – and now Bee was going to leave her own house and get together to come pick her up.

She was going to kill Rasmus.

***

“You told Bee that I played the cello?”

Rasmus laughed at the tone of Lusine’s voice as he saw her face get angry over the FaceTime. It was late for Lusine, but the team had just gotten to California from Long Island and Rasmus wanted to call. He hadn’t seen her through FaceTime since after the Islanders game, and he hadn’t seen her in person since Saturday morning, after he’d stayed over and they cuddled all night. He had to leave early because of practice, and she couldn’t go to the game because she worked that night. Now that he was kissing her, when he got back to town on Sunday night after their game in Anaheim, he’d have to give her a giant kiss, even if they landed in the middle of the night. It’d be all he would think about until he actually did it. “Of course I did,” he giggled out.

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because it’s the cutest thing in the world,” he tried to convince her.

“It’s not cute,” she grimaced. “It makes me the biggest nerd ever.”

“Bee loves that kind of stuff though, don’t worry.”

“They’re gonna tease me.”

“Nobody’s gonna tease you,” he shot down the idea immediately. “You’ve hung out with them now. You know they’re nice girls. They will want to come see you just like I do.”

Oh yeah. She forgot that on their oyster date, he asked if he could come watch her perform. She’d have to find an appropriate time, and venue, since only members were allowed at The National Club. The thought of Rasmus coming to see her perform somewhere with her quartet was exciting, but thinking about Bee and the other girls coming to see her was a bit more daunting. She didn’t quite know why. “I’ll have to plan something, I guess,” she said. “When Christmas rolls around – I mean, that’s when we’re the busiest. There will be plenty of chances.”

Rasmus looked into Lusine’s eyes. Though she was thousands of miles away from him, and he was looking at her through a screen, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of serenity. “What are university classes like?” he asked.

He watched as Lusine scrunched her face slightly. “They’re just lectures,” she said. “There’s a professor at the front of the room talking about specific topics for two hours and you’re just there trying to get everything down. Why do you ask?”

Rasmus bit his lip nervously. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “I just kinda want to picture what your life is like when I’m away, or when you’re not with me. I want to be able to know what you do every day so I can picture it in my head when I think about you.”

Lusine’s heart fluttered. She couldn’t help the shy smile that began to overtake her face. “Oh yeah?”

Rasmus nodded. “Do you miss me?”

Lusine knew she wouldn’t be able to lie. “Yes. Do you miss me?”

Rasmus smiled the exact shy smile that Lusine had moments before. “Of course.”

***

When Lusine walked through the door of Bee and Morgan’s condo with her cello, she was greeted with Aryne Tavares and Aberdeen Bloom sitting on the couch and eating ordered-in pizza. Truthfully, Lusine was expecting a lot more people – she didn’t know if it was just a university thing, but when other people had said ‘a few people are coming over’ that usually meant a house party – but it was nice. She hung out with them the most during the few games that she went to, so she was happy to see them.

The apartment was beautiful, and that was putting it lightly. It was big and spacious – unlike her own apartment – with cool décor and nice furniture. There were pictures throughout the apartment of Morgan and Bee, their families, and them posing with friends. Bee had even already put up the Christmas tree (“I started super-early this year, and we got a real tree, too!”) and there were a few presents underneath it.

Rasmus was right – Bee spoke to her about playing the cello. And not just in a polite way – she really wanted to know what went into it, what age Lusine started practicing, what the quartet was all about, and more. From the first moment Lusine met her, she knew Bee was a genuine person, but this took it to another level. Aryne and Aberdeen were the same, listening intently to her answers and asking follow-up questions, and Lusine couldn’t believe she was actually speaking about it to people who were interested.

“Um…can I ask you guys a question?” she asked timidly, even though she felt perfectly comfortable around them.

“Of course,” Aryne nodded.

“Who’s Aleida?”

Everyone’s faces dropped. Aberdeen and Aryne’s head whipped to look at Bee. “She’s one of my very good friends – she’s married to Frederik Andersen. Why do you ask?” Bee responded.

Lusine gulped. Bee just mentioned she was a friend, but nobody was smiling anymore. She was suddenly second-guessing about bringing her up at all, but after the whirlwind of a night she had at Gina’s, she wanted to get to the bottom of Rasmus’s comment. “Uh—it’s not anything—I didn’t mean—”

“Did somebody say something?” Bee asked.

“No—well yes—well, no, not—” she kept stuttering like an idiot. She took a second to compose herself, taking a deep breath before continuing. “On Friday, I found myself in a bit of a…predicament.”

“A predicament,” Aryne repeated.

“On that Friday night I came – the game against the Flames – I met someone in the family lounge who was there as like, a friend of a friend, I guess. She invited me to a party she was having at her place on Friday, and, um…well, long story short, it became abundantly clear that she only invited me because she saw me with a Sandin jersey on and thought I could be her in to get with Auston,” she explained.

The girls all rolled their eyes in unison, with Aryne mumbling ‘Typical’ and shaking her head. But it was Bee who furrowed her brows. “Wait, who could it have been? A friend of a friend?”

“Her name was Gina.”

Their jaws dropped. “Oh noooooo, not her!” Aberdeen exclaimed.

“Stay far, far away from her,” Aryne cautioned. “Don’t even look at her.”

“I know that now,” Lusine nodded. “It was so awkward. I went because I thought—well, I mean, I was misled into thinking that she was a regular around here or something, and—it sounds stupid, I’m sure, but I just wanted to make more friends.”

“You don’t need friends like her. You need friends like us,” Bee said. “Gina’s main goal in life is to sleep with Auston and she will – evidently – stop at nothing to achieve that.”

“Yeah. For sure. It was…it was so bad. I was there, at her place, and then she and her friends started doing coke, and—”

“Coke?!” all three women exclaimed at once.

Lusine nodded. “Yeah, and—and I had to call Rasmus to come get me. Some guy was trying to get me to do it and when I said no, he said he wanted to take some off my ass.”

The girls screamed out in a mix of fear, shock, and pure bewilderment. Aberdeen went so far as to get up from her seat on the other couch to sit beside Lusine and side hug her. “I am never letting you out of my sight again!” she exclaimed.

“Thank God Rasmus came and got you. He must have been so upset,” Aryne said.

“Wait—but how did Aleida come up in conversation?” Bee asked.

Lusine gulped. “Um, when Rasmus came in and picked me up, he was angry with Gina and he told her ‘Aleida was right about you’,” she revealed.

Their jaws dropped again, with collective oooooooh sounds ringing throughout the apartment. “Man, Rasmus is harsh!” Aryne commented. “He’s right, though. Aleida was right about her.”

“What happened?” Lusine asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Bee shook her head. “All that matters is that Gina never even lays her eyes on you moving forward.”

***

Aberdeen elected to drive Lusine back to her apartment. They loaded her cello into the backseat, with Aberdeen driving William’s beautiful, expensive Volvo through the streets of Toronto. Lusine had had fun with the girls, but the events of the day were weighing on her and she could feel the fatigue setting in.

“Hey Lusine?” Aberdeen asked suddenly.

“Mhm?”

“What’d you mean when you said you went to Gina’s party because you just wanted to make more friends?”

Lusine stiffened. Fuck. There was no way Lusine was going to tell Aberdeen fucking Bloom – one of her favourite authors, who just so happened to be driving her home (seriously, what the fuck had her life become?) – what she told Rasmus that night. So she settled for the allusion, what she originally told Rasmus to cover it up. “Uh, well, nobody followed me to U of T, so besides my roommate Bianca and like, her circle of friends who have become my circle of friends, I don’t really have that many people in my life.”

She didn’t want to tell Aberdeen that when she moved to Toronto, she had no people in her life. Aberdeen seemed to buy it, nodding her head. Aberdeen asked a few more questions about U of T – what it was like on campus now, professors, essays, classes – until they turned on Lusine’s street. Lusine directed her to her apartment, and as Aberdeen pulled up to the curb, Lusine clicked her seatbelt off. “Thank you so much for the ride, Aberdeen.”

“Hey Lusine?”

“Yes?”

“I hope that you’re not holding back just because I’m a published author and you love my book,” Aberdeen said. “I’m a human first and foremost. Someone who wants to be your friend. Please don’t put me on a pedestal. I’m just Aberdeen.”

Lusine didn’t know what to say. Truly. She was speechless. All she could do was nod her head. In trying to figure out what to say, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I can’t forget my cello.”

She slipped out of the car and moved to open the door to the backseat, hauling her cello out of the car. She waved quickly, barely seeing Aberdeen through the glass of the window, before she rushed inside her building. It was only when she was indoors, watching Aberdeen drive off, did she realize how fucking stupid she’d acted.

[sardonic-courtney]

Virgin Talk. Spencer Reid x Reader.

Relationship: Romantic

Warnings: Mature, Implied Smut?

Around 4000 words.

Requested: Nope.

Summary: Reader gets touchy at Morgans virgin jokes towards Spencer and Spencer gets curious.

It had been a long case. You and the team were sat on the 5-hour long flight back. Having only 3 hours left until you could be back home.

The case had consisted of murders in a strip club. Meaning you had spent a lot of time with Morgan and Reid, in said locations. Which would have been fine, if it hadn't led to the inevitable 'Virgin teasing Morgan gave Reid.

Like said, it had been a long 4-day case. You were tired, everyone was. Which was shown by the look of your fellow team members spread about on plane. Rossi and Hotch were sleeping by the back. JJ and Prentiss were asleep by the front. Leaving just you, Derek who was opposite you and Reid who was next to Derek, awake. You couldn't sleep, as to why the other two were awake, no idea.

But due to lack of sleep, you may have been slightly more irritable. The comments, although directed at Reid, hit you too. You were a virgin. Yes at 26 years old. Not that anyone knew that, obviously. Which meant the jokes made at Reid for the past 4 days had been building under your skin.

You didn't know if he was actually a virgin, hell to be honest you didn't care. Not that you hadn't given it a thought or two, then again who could blame you when you spent all week with the man. Who you may have come to have a crush on. This may be another reason you weren't liking the comments directed at defenceless Spencer, who never seemed to stand up for himself. Sure you knew they were jokes, but at the moment you were one comment away from slapping Morgan yourself.

A sigh is let out from Spencer. As he closes his book, letting it rest on his lap. "What's up, pretty boy? Still, thinking about that redhead at the bar? You know one day your going to have to give in and stop following Mary's lead"

Spencer got that familiar look on his face, that you had seen many times as he immediately spoke, " You know it is heavily debated whether Mary was a virgin. According to Protestants, for example, believe that Mary had other children with her husband Joseph in the normal manner, before she gave birth to Jesus. Catholic tradition, on the other hand, teaches that she was perpetually virgin."

"That debate isn't evident in your case, we know you're a virgin. Which is why we need to get you laid, maybe then you'll be less tense.".

That's it, you had enough, even if it was one of the tamest comments he had made all week, it got to your tired mind nonetheless. However opting for a less angry response your brain wanted to make, you asked...

"For God's sake, look Spencer are you even a virgin?"

"I uhh. No. No I am not". He slightly stumbled out startled by your sudden question.

"Right there we go. So can you stop making pointless comments and move on Morgan, because it's starting to piss me off.”

"What why?" Morgan asked confused.

"Just is," you replied casually.

"It's not like you a virgin" Morgan paused looking at you. "Are you? Holy shit!”

"Just shut up." You cut him off, adding a death glare for extra measures before putting in your headphones and shutting your eyes.

You must have fallen asleep at some point because your eyes fluttered open to Reid shaking your shoulder gently.

"Common were back.” "Spencer? What time is it?" "3pm." "Does that mean?" "Yep, paperwork time", he answered, earning a groan from you as you got up.

*Time skip 6pm*

Everyone apart from Hotch, you and Spencer had left. Seeing as tomorrow was Friday you assumed they would finish their reports and such then. You however would rather get most of the work out the way tonight and have an easier day tomorrow, hence being sat at your desk, tired and trying to work. Spencer is sat at his desk two away from you, writing down, scribbling and looking at a page of who knows what as Hotch emerges from his office doors.

"I'm off. You two don't stay too late, you can finish tomorrow remember. That case was a long one, probably good to get some rest" he said heading towards the doors.

"Just going to finish this bit then be off, see you tomorrow Hotch". You smiled looking up at the man.

"Goodbye Y/n" he smiled back before looking at the still focused Spencer, looking down at his desk. "Goodbye Reid," he said emphasising 'Reid'.

"What? oh goodbye, Hotch" he smiled slightly returning his gaze to his desk.

Hotchner just shook his head, you two sharing a knowing look, before he left through the doors. You returned back to your work. Letting out a frustrated sigh. At this rate, you weren't going to be finished anytime soon. Staring at the page, pen in hand and not knowing what to fill out. It would probably be better to go home and do this later, but you just wanted it out the way, you still had other work to complete tomorrow and who was to say a last minute case would pop up?

"You okay you seem tense?" Reid spoke snapping you out of your thoughts. You look up at him, as he is gazing over you, studying you.

"Hey you better not be profiling me mister" you joked.

"I'm not just asking if your doing okay."

"I'm fine Spence" you dismiss looking back at your work.

"You need help?" Spencer asked now stood by your desk.

"No, no I'm good, go do you're work then you can go home".

"I've done mine."

"What?"

"I finished on the plane."

"Then why are you still here Spencer? What have you been doing for the past few hours?"

"Thinking." he stated as if it was obvious.

"About?" you say dragging out the 'ou'.

"Things."

"Spencer, go home."

"Y/n, go home." he mimicked.

You rolled your eyes, "Unlike you, I have reason to be here.”

"You can do it tomorrow."

"I'm behind, I've got a lot of work building up,” you gestured to the mini stack of papers on the corner of your desk.

"You're overworking yourself," Spencer stated leaning against your desk.

"I'm fine, I just want to get this bit done.”

"Y/n stop."

"I'm fine," you say going back to writing until your hand was engulfed by another, your breath hitched. Warm. His hand was just warm. That was the cause of the tingly feeling, as he grabbed it, stopping the movement. Firm but not controlling. Wow Spencer 'Germaphobe' Reid holding your hand. You looked up and met his eyes.

"Y/n let me help.”

"I'm fine really."

"Okay but I'm not going home until you do."

"Spencer," you warned.

"No discussion, so finish that bit up, and remember if you need help with anything I'm here."

"Fine."

30 minutes later and you gave up. You felt bad for Spencer sitting there, but when you get out of your seat and he doesn't move you are curious. So you move over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Causing to look up at you with a blushed face.

"You okay?" you asked.

He nodded a yes, “Just thinking," he replied not meeting your eye.

"About?"

"Nothing, ready to go?"

"Hmm. What were you thinking about Doctor Reid?" you asked, given his change in behaviour from earlier you were curious. He had been sat for half an hour doing nothing, so it had to be something interesting going around that beautiful mind of his.

"Nothing important," he said still not meeting your eyes,

"Well, I'm not leaving until you spill." you spoke.

"Why are you always so curious?"

"One of my best traits isn't it?" you asked sarcastically. "Common Spence what is it, you know I'm not going to judge," you pleaded, feeling a little concerned for the guy.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Let's make a deal then. I'll tell you if you can give me a lift home. I don't fancy the subway tonight".

You chuckled, "You don't think I wasn't already going to offer? But deal."

This wasn't uncommon for the two of you. He lived 10 minutes tops away from your house, and you passed his apartment on the way to and from anyway. Meaning sometimes you picked him up or dropped him off. You weren't too fond of him always getting trains.

Spencer just smiled and started collecting his things. You did the same and you both headed out to your car. The journey was quiet, filled with the gentle hum of music, and small talk. Until you approached his building.

"It's only 7:30, want to come up and get a takeaway? Thursdays two for one" Spencer asked.

"Sure, where should I park?" You responded turning into the small parking area, into space pointed out for you.

This once again wasn't a rare occurrence, getting food together after work, if there had been a case. Always from a place down the road, you two would eat and chat, watching re-runs of whatever show you could find.

Out of the car and now in the apartment, you took off your coat hanging it on a hook, discarding your shoes and heading towards the couch. Spencer who had entered first was heading to get you both a drink.

Coming back with two glasses in his hand, he handed one to you and placed his on the table by the sofa. You took a sip of the cold drink and placed yours next to his. He grabbed his phone and sat next to you.

"The usual?" he asked already dialling in the numbers.

"You know it," thanks to Spencer's memory he already had your order engraved into his brain, which he recited as well as his into the phone, along with the usual niceties. "Yes, that is it...okay...Thank you, goodbye" with that he hung up, placing his phone on the armrest. Just as you got a call.

(Friends ID) flashing over the screen.

"Sorry, Spencer one second," you spoke answering, still sitting. He just smiled at you with a small nod.

"Hey, what's up?" you asked.

"Nothing. Just wondering what you were up to if you were home yet." Spoke the voice on the other end.

"Oh yeah, got back from the case today."

"Good good."

"So?"

"So what?"

You chuckled, "Sorry I just assumed there was a reason for your call".

"Oh right yes. You me tonight, Frank's Bar".

"I can't."

"Oh common it's been ages" They whined.

"Sorry, got work tomorrow, plus I'm busy".

"Don't tell me you're still at work".

"No, I'm not".

"Where are you then?"

"At a friend's.”

"So bring them, common."

The image of Spencer awkwardly handing out at Frank's crossed your mind, making you stifle a laugh.

"Look I got to go, maybe next time".

"Eh fine, talk soon".

"Bye, have a nice night" you replied hanging up the phone. Looking at Spencer you noticed he had zoned out again at some point, now looking at his wall. But snapped out of it when you placed your phone down, now looking at you.

"Foods going to be here in 20."

You nodded. "So until then, mind sharing what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Spencer sighed then looked down at his hands, seeming nervous again.

"Spencer, are you sure your okay? You don't have to tell me."

"It's just I keep wondering what you said back on the flight.”

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific it was a long flight." you stated genuinely confused.

"To Morgan"

"Oh right, look I just don't like the way he always makes comments to you, I'm sorry if i butted in."

"What? No. It's not that, just," he sighed again.

"Just what Spence?"

"Are you a virgin?" He asked bluntly, before seeming to back peddle his statement. "I mean, sorry that was rude I didn't mean to"

You chuckled at his mini-panic, "It's fine, I asked you didn't I? So I guess only fair, umm, yes, yes I am". you replied, slightly embarrassed. This wasn't the conversation you wanted to be having with your 2 years, colleague/friend/crush/You don't even know anymore.

"Really?" he asked meeting your eyes again.

"Yep."

"Can I a question?"

"If I get to ask one back". You were curious, because if this had been what he was thinking about, then he had been thinking about it for a while. At least half an hour back at the office.

"Okay. Why?"

"Why?" you repeated, unsure exactly what he was asking.

"Why are you still a virgin?"

"Oh right umm," you thought about it for a minute. "I guess I just never found anyone I wanted to do it with, that wanted to do it with me I suppose".

"I'm sure plenty have guys would jump at the opportunity."

"None that I'm interested in, or trust enough. Right now my question," you changed the topic.

"Yes?"

"What else were you thinking about earlier?"

"What do you mean?" he asked,

"Well, that can't be all you were thinking about, seeing as you zoned out for a while."

Spencer went silent, looking down at his hands and using his tongue, drew his bottom lip between his teeth to bite on it for a second. "I'm not sure you want to know."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

His gaze remained on his fidgeting fingers. "Well, after that conversation on the plane I was thinking about how you were still, well you know. Then you were so tense and stressed at your desk and it got me thinking".

You smirked slightly, "Thinking about what?"

Spencer remained silent.

"Common Spencer, you can tell me I won't judge."

"Just how I could make you less stressed," Spencer paused and looked up at you. "I know it's weird but, I couldn't help it. You were sat at your desk, all uptight, squared shoulders. Nibbling on your pen. It was just random thoughts you know?" Once again he's flustered. "Okay, can we move on now? Want to watch something?"

"Sure we can watch something," you passed him the remote.

Spencer Reid having dirty thoughts, who would have guessed. Now you definitely were more curious. You'd be lying if him saying that didn't turn you on a little.

Okay, just breathe and move on Y/n. It's not like he would ever... would he? Well, it's not like you could just ask him to... god no. But still, could you imagine? Yes, yes you could. It’s only fair for you to considering he had, right?

Time had passed, food came and gone. The show finished. But your thoughts were still on Spencer. Maybe it was your tired brain, but you couldn't get him out of your head. It didn't help he was sat on the sofa next to you, just an arms reach away.

You sighed leaning back into the sofa. Causing Spencer to raise an eyebrow at you.

"You okay?"

"Yeah just tired."

"That was a long case." Spencer agreed, "I'm going to get a refill, want anything?"

"No, I'm okay thanks, still got half a glass."

Spencer nodded and headed to the kitchen. You must have zoned out because you didn't notice him coming back in, glass full, and sitting back in his spot.

"You sure you are just tired?" he questioned, setting his drink into its place.

Maybe it was your tired brain. Maybe it was the build-up of thoughts. Or maybe it was the unmentioned tension, that had been there since earlier conversation. Whatever it was it caused a moment of braveness, a moment of you trying to make the first move, and hoping that he had been waiting for one.

"Well, I've also been thinking."

"About?"

"About what you said earlier. You're right I am stressed, and you're words are in my head."

Spencer looked at you to continue.

"Do you think you would be up for helping me relieve that tension?"

Spencer visually gulped, "Sure, but how?" he was still unsure of your meaning. He really wasn't making this easy. You couldn't exactly turn around and say, hey I want you to fuck me.

"I assumed you would have some ideas on the how seeing as you had been thinking about it earlier. Right, Spence?"

"Uhh yeah, I had a few ideas." His hands fidgeted slightly on his lap, shifting his gaze down to them.

"So could you?"

"Could I what Y/n?" It wasn’t clear if Spencer was trying to tease you, looking at you with his big brown eyes, placing a hand just above your knee, but it was working.

"Help me out."

"I would love to, how about you come over here?" he patted his thigh cheeks still tinted.

You moved closer, before two hands lifted you onto his lap, facing him. Bringing you down into a kiss. A long-awaited soft kiss. Lips closed, moving against each other. Your hands clasped together behind his neck, arms rested on his shoulders. Him using one hand to hold your waist, the other on your face to bring your lips together. You both parted, his hand still lingering on your cheek, faces still close.

He looks up and smiles. "Hi" he breathes out softly.

"Hi" you repeat in the same whisper.

This time it was you who brought your lips together. This time it was more heated. Tongues slipping between the parted lips, and you explored each other. Your hands meeting his soft long hair. Slightly gripping, causing a few gasps and groans from the man beneath you. This continued, parting for a bit to get air, before meeting again. Bodies close. So close in fact you started to notice him growing beneath you. Which excited you even more. You put your weight down onto his lap, slowly moving your hips as you kissed. Spencer let out a low moan, both hands on your hips tightened. Before he pulled his face away a bit.

"I don't know if you should do that Y/n" his voice was hoarse.

"Why not?"

"You might get something a little, you know excited." His voice stuttered slightly.

"And what if I want to?"

His eyes softened, getting a slightly serious look on his face. "Y/n are you sure you want to?"

"Yes Spence I'm sure."

"But you've never."

"I know.”

"But,"

"Spencer I trust and want you to."

"Really?" He looked up at you with his big doe eyes, slightly blown out.

"Yes, have for a while now".

"In that case. Want to see my bedroom?"

 ✼*･ﾟﾟ･*TimeSkip*ﾟ:*:✼

You wake up to an alarm. Your pillow shifted to turn it off, then returned his hands to you. Your shirtless pillow. He kissed your forehead.

"We should probably get up." His voice vibrating through his chest.

You sigh in response not wanting this moment to end.

"The sooner we get up, the sooner we get to work, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can maybe go out for dinner?" he asked hopefully, causing you to look up at him, with a questioning look. "If you want to?"

His hair was messy, curling in every direction, his face warm. He looked beautiful. You let out a light laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" he looked worried.

"It's just usually the dinner comes before. But yes Spence, I would love to go to dinner tonight," you pecked his lips moving to get up.

✼*･ﾟﾟ･*TimeSkip*ﾟ:*:✼  

"I can't wear this, or they will know I didn't go home last night".

"We can pop to yours".

"No that's a pointless 25-minute trip and I want coffee".

"Then wear one of my shirts".

"What? Spence I don't think your clothes will fit".

"Find an older one and tuck into your skirt. No one will know".

"Okay."

So you found a grey shirt, with a little turtle on the pocket, and put it on. Buttoning and Rolling the leaves to look 'styled' and tucking it in. It didn't look bad. Spencer smiled seeing you in his shirt. Distracted by how you looked, and the warm feeling it sent his chest, he didn't think about where he got the shirt from.

 ✼*･ﾟﾟ･*TimeSkip*ﾟ:*:✼  

You and Spence had got to work 40 minutes early. Why? Because you were going to stop for coffee on the way, but the place was closed. So you sat at your desks drinking the BAU coffee, which wasn't as good, but still did the job.

30 minutes later and you had done the work from last night, and moving onto another file in your pile. Definitely more able to work than last night.

"How's it going? Finished yesterday's pile already?" Spencer asked, stood by your desk, hands in his pocket.

"Yep, it's going well," you smiled at him. He still hadn't seemed to notice the bite mark on his neck, and if he had, he didn't seem to care. The small mark made your cheeks heat up a bit when your eyes gazed it.

"Morgan was right then." Spencer said looking down at you.

"What do you mean?" You ask sending him a questioning look.

"Well, he said it would make you less tense, and it obviously did.”

"No. He said it would make you less tense" you corrected.

"I guess it works both ways." he chuckled.

"Morning" Garcia spoke approaching the two of you, a smile on her joyful face.

Both you and Spencer turn around, you standing up to greet the blonde, who as usual pulled you into a hug as Spencer let out a greeting.

"It's been too long, I don't like it when you leave me." She wasn’t in yesterday having to leave early before the flight landed so the usual welcome backs had been missed.

"Didn't exactly have a choice," you laughed her happiness infection, then again you were already in a pleasant mood. You then looked at Derek. "Hey Morgan".

Morgan looked at you for a second. "Hey, guys."

Whether he would add more or not, you wouldn't know. The rest of the team were in the room as Hotch stood by the railing outside his office.

"I need everyone's reports on my desk by 12. Morgan, you still owe me last Monday's report, get it to me soon, please."

Morgan nodded, "Sure thing Hotch." and he went off to his desk, opposite yours.

The day went on like any normal paperwork day. You and Spencer giving each other little smiles. Emily rolling her eyes at the amount of paperwork. Garcia stopping for chats as she walked around doing bits here and there. But the glances Derek Morgan had been giving you, weren't the norm. But every time you looked at him he was looking away so maybe you were imagining it.

✼*･ﾟﾟ･*TimeSkip*ﾟ:*:✼  

It was now lunch and everyone was sat around the table. JJ and you had popped out and brought some doughnuts and coffee for the team, which you all were now enjoying.

You were all having light conversations in groups. Hotch and Rossi discussing a past case. Prentiss and Y/n hearing a story about Henry from JJ. Garcia, Morgan and Reid talking about a movie, but once again Morgan seemed slightly distracted, his gaze every so often on the girl opposite him.

"Oh my God," Morgan spoke to himself before adding "That's Reid's shirt" he spoke, finally figuring out what had been bugging him all day. Ever since he saw you this morning he knew something was off he couldn't figure it out until then. His revelation however was voiced quite loudly and caused everyone to be quiet, to look at him. Also causing you to freeze. Morgan just chucked. "It's been bugging me all day.”

"What?" Garcia asked, confused along with half of the room.

"That," he pointed to you, "is Ried's shirt.”

"What? No, it isn't Morgan" you replied, feeling the heat rise up your neck, and your heart thump. If only you weren’t in  a room of profilers, maybe then you would stand a slight chance of lying.

"Yes it is, I got it for him for his birthday a few years back." he clarified.

"Really? Oh, it must have been muddled with luggage, I assumed I just forgot I had it when I found it this morning," you smiled hoping it was believable.

Reid was just sat, mentally hitting himself for not noticing.

"Right, and I guess pretty boy over here got that mark on his neck from his messenger bag".

Shit. Maybe you should have told Reid about that.

"What mark?" Ried gave you a look, which you returned a sheepish smile.

"Oh my God. You two?" Garcia squealed.

To this, you just turned red. Pointlessly Reid moved his hand to the spot the mark was, his hand being large enough to cover the ruff area.

"Too late to hide it now," Morgan smirked.

The table was quiet. You and Reid avoiding everyone's gaze. Awkward. Awkward. Then to your right, you hear a little quiet chuckle. Glancing at Ried, who meets your eye causing you both into a fit of laughter.

Still laughing you said, "I can't believe you didn't tell me about the shirt".

"I forgot".

"How can Mr Eidetic Memory forget?"

"Well, I can't believe you didn't tell me about the mark." His voice in a slight whine.

"That I have no excuse for," you said, both still laughing.

The others just observed the two of you.

"Wait does this mean I can make virgin jokes now?" Morgan asked.

You kicked him under the table.

"Ouch, I guess not then".

[robinrunsfiction]

You’ll Never Fight Alone

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: Teen (for bullying) Requested By: Anon (but I know who it is lol) Word Count: ~4000 Author’s Note: I really wanted to write a fake dating story, but I knew I should be working on a request. Going through my inbox I found a request for a story with shy Gerard and a confident reader and no other specifics. I found a fake dating prompt I wanted to use and here we have that sweet sweet combination of a fake dating story set in a high school AU. Aww yes. I mashed in another high school AU that I had started and stalled out on, so I’m glad I got idea taken care of as well. Anyway, I hope it’s good and you all enjoy (fun fact unrelated to the story: the girl in prom dress in the moodboard below is actually my friend and that’s a photo I took 100 years ago)

You were at your locker, gathering your books at the end of a very long, tiring week when you heard the teasing begin. Your blood began to boil before you even realized to whom it was directed.

“You’re such a fucking loser! Are you gonna go to prom? Probably not, you'd never get a date.” Brock smirked, and his friends laughed along.

You glanced over your shoulder and your fears were confirmed, they were teasing your friend Gerard. He was trying his best to ignore them and get his things into his backpack, but since he wasn't getting a reaction Brock had started shoving him. You knew you had to do something quick.

“Hey!” You shouted. “Leave my boyfriend alone.” You marched across the hall and took Gerard’s hand in yours. In your peripheral vision you could see the confused look Gerard was giving you.

“(YN)? You’re dating him?!” Brock scoffed.

“Yea, and he’s taking me to prom, but I heard your mom was his second choice.”

“Fuckin bitch,” Brock muttered before turning and walking away with his friends.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Gerard mumbled once they were out of earshot, dropping your hand.

“It was nothing, I can’t stand those assholes.” You'd lived next to Gerard your whole life, and even though it could be argued that you were sort of popular due to your place on the varsity tennis team, you would always be loyal to your nerdy, but sweet neighbor.

You'd just turned back to your locker when you heard Gerard clear his throat. "Hey (YN)?"

"Yea?" You turned to face him.

"What are we gonna do about prom?"

"Oh," you started. "Right, because they're gonna be looking for us there."

"Yea."

“And if we aren’t, they’re gonna be even worse to deal with.”

“Right.”

"Well would you like to go to prom with me?" You asked with a smile.

Gerard's eyes went wide. "Really? You mean you don't already have a date?"

You shook your head. "Nope. I spend too much time at tennis practice to line up any dates."

"Right," Gerard replied like he was lost in thought.

"Sooo," you coaxed. "If you don't wanna, that's fine-"

"No! Yea, I mean, yea, let's go," he nodded.

"Cool," you grinned. "I'm glad this worked out actually. We haven't hung out enough lately," you said heading toward the door with him.

"Yea, I missed you, I mean, hanging out with you," he corrected.

You gave him a smile and took his hand.

"Wha-what are you doing?" He asked nervously. 

"I told Brock we're dating, we should act like it, don't you think?"

"I guess so. But won't this be social suicide for you?"

"Who cares what they think?" You shrugged as you and Gerard walked home hand in hand.

~

The next morning you were up early, despite it being a Saturday, for a tennis match. But when you arrived, you knew that word of the prior afternoon had already spread.

"Hey (YN)," Ashley started with a smirk and an overly sweet tone. "I heard you and that nerdy guy Gerard are going out? Please tell me that's a joke."

Panic swept through you for a moment. Was it really that unbelievable that you’d be with Gerard? It shouldn’t be, you reasoned. "Nope! We've been friends forever and it just naturally blossomed," you answered, trying to sound convincing.

"Then where is he?" Another teammate, Megan, asked.

"It's 7:30 on a Saturday morning, he's probably still asleep."

"Oh, because our boyfriends are here supporting us," Ashley nodded to where Brock and another guy were paying more attention to their phones than the match that was about to begin.

"He'll be at the next afternoon match," you shrugged, but inside you were worried you'd gotten both you and Gerard in over your heads.

Your fears were not assuaged at all when you returned to school on Monday. You were walking down the hall when you heard someone call your name. When you turned, you found the younger Way brother behind you. “Hey Mikey, what’s up?”

“Gerard finally asked you out?”

You weren’t sure you correctly heard what he said. “Wha- hang on,” you grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to a quieter corner. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you and Gee are dating?”

(YN) glanced around. “Some asshole was making fun of him and saying he couldn’t get a date, so I jumped in and said we were dating and going to prom together. So if anyone asks, yes, me and Gee are dating.”

“What if someone asks for details, like how long you’ve been going out?” Mikey asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“I dunno, say a few months. But what did you mean by he final-” You were cut off by the bell ringing.

“I gotta get to class, see ya,” Mikey said quickly before rushing off, leaving your question unanswered.

~

“Ok, time to figure out what we’re doing for prom," you said, plopping down next to where Gerard was sitting on the edge of your bed. He came over after school that afternoon so you could make a plan.

“I haven’t been to a formal yet,” Gerard said sheepishly. “Is it like the movies?”

You hummed in thought. “Yes and no. I mean I’ve only been to homecoming the last couple years, but it really seems like the night is what you make it, ya know? We can go as big or small as we want.”

“I gotta wear a suit, right?”

“Yea, sorry,” you grimaced.

“It’s ok, I bet it will be sorta cool,” Gerard replied to your surprise.

“Oh, cool! Umm, we don’t need to get a limo or a hotel room, or go someplace fancy for dinner before.”

“I can borrow my Dad’s car,” Gerard offered. “But we probably should get dinner before.”

“True. Oh, how about pizza at Luigi’s!” You suggested and Gerard grinned.

“Yea, that sounds good. Umm, do you have a dress already?”

You nodded excitedly. “Yes! I’ll show you,” you said, jumping up and hurrying to your closet. Pulling it out of the garment bag, you took a moment to hold it up in front of you, gazing at your reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door. You loved how the pink color went with your skintone and the way the sparkle in the fabric caught the light. When you turned to show Gerard, he had a soft look on his face. “Do you like it?”

That snapped him to attention. “Yea! You’re, I mean it’s really pretty. You want me to get one of those flower things?”

“Corsage?”

“That’s the one."

"If you want to," you shrugged, hanging the dress up before sitting down next to him again. “How are you feeling about everything? Was Brock bugging you as much today as before?”

“He kinda backed off,” Gerard replied, picking at the paint from art class that had dried under his nails.

“It makes me so mad that they do that to you. Like they should just get to know you and they’d find out how cool and sweet you really are.” You fully believed what you were telling Gerard, you’d always felt that way about him, but as the words were leaving your mouth it was like they were shining a light in a different way on him for the first time. 

You glanced up at his soft face, his hazel eyes that held sadness that broke your heart, his nose that made him look elvish. He truly was a beautiful person both inside and out. Never before had you actually considered kissing him, but now, to your surprise, you found yourself really wanting to.

“I don’t want them to get to know me, I just want them to fuck off,” Gerard sighed.

“That’s fair too,” you nodded. You were about to pull him into a hug when your mom knocked on the door, and burst through without waiting for an answer.

“I made cookies!” She announced happily.

“Thanks mom,” you answered, trying not to let your annoyance creep into your voice.

"What are you up to?" She asked as she sat the plate down next to you, eyeing you suspiciously when she saw how close you and Gerard were sitting.

"Just talking about prom," you answered. 

"Oh! Are you going together?"

"Yea, but just as friends," you replied.

"Alright, well that's nice. I'll leave you to it," she nodded and left, not shutting the door behind her.

"I don't think she believed you," Gerard said, shaking his head as he reached for a cookie.

"I guess we must be convincing," you laughed. "Ya know, even Mikey asked if we were dating."

Gerard's eyes went wide as he choked on his cookie. "He did?"

You noted his reaction, but decided against bringing it up. "Yea, but I filled him in so he wouldn't blow our cover. Maybe when we're at school we should do more, like holding hands and stuff, so people don't question it."

"Oh, ok yea that's probably a good idea," Gerard nodded.

"And would you maybe be willing to come to some of my tennis matches? I already told the other girls you'd be at the next one."

"Of course," he agreed. "But you really don't mind doing this with me?"

"Not at all!" You reassured him, putting your hand on his. "Is this ok?"

He nodded as he met your eyes. The air felt thick with anticipation. You held your breath as you wondered what was about to happen. 

"Gee-" you started.

"(YN)! Is Gerard staying for dinner?" Your mom shouted from downstairs. You sighed and rolled your eyes at the interruption.

"I should go, I have homework," he said getting up.

"Oh, yea, no problem," you nodded, following him down the stairs to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya," he said with a quick wave before hurrying to his house. 

~

The day of your next tennis match, you made your way back to the courts behind the school and found Gerard was already waiting, along with a handful of other spectators. You couldn’t help but grin as you hurried over to him.

“You're here!” You said excitedly, throwing your arms around him and giving him a big hug. It wasn’t for show, you actually were so excited to see him. 

"It’s what boyfriends do, right?” He said with a nervous smile when you pulled back, but his hands lingered on your waist, sending butterflies through your stomach.

"Of course," you grinned. "I gotta go talk to my coach, but I'll talk to you later."

Gerard nodded and you headed over to where your coach was assigning which court you'd be playing on as the other team arrived. You were told which girl you’d be facing off against, and headed down to the court to warm up before your match.

Gerard followed along and found a bench by your court so he could watch. You gave him a wave as you realized how absolutely proud you felt to have him there for you, to say that Gerard was your boyfriend. That’s when you remembered that he wasn’t really your boyfriend and for a moment your smile faltered. Then your smile totally faded when you saw Brock and his friend Nick walking over.

"Hey Gerard, have you gotten in (YN)'s skirt yet?" You heard Nick snicker.

"I’d bet he’d rather wear her skirt," Brock mocked.

"Shut up," Gerard snarled, but you could see that just set Brock off.

“What’d you say?” Brock threatened, starting to loom over Gerard.

"Brock," you snapped, pulling the bully's attention. "Why are you so obsessed with Gee? Why do you care about us? Are you jealous or something? Go watch your girlfriend and leave us alone!"

Brock glared at you, muttering insults under his breath before retreating off to where Ashley was standing with her arms folded across her chest, looking pissed that he wasn’t paying attention to her.

You ran over to the fence by Gerard. “Are you okay?”

“Yea, thanks,” he mumbled. “Don’t let him distract you from your match though.”

“You’re right, babe,” the term of endearment slipped out before you could stop yourself, but luckily Gerard didn’t seem put off. In fact he looked elated.

The moment was interrupted by the referee blowing his whistle to get your attention to start the match.

“Gotta go!” You said

“Have a good match,” he waved.

You weren’t sure if it was because Gerard was a lucky charm, or if you just wanted to give him a good show, but you easily won each of your matches that day. You tried not to gloat too much when you heard that Ashley hadn’t won any.

~

After a few more weeks of going through the motions of being a couple, you could no longer deny your full blown crush on Gerard. You reveled in the moments when you'd get to see him in the halls between classes and hold his hand, or be pulled into a hug by him. All of it felt so natural and right. 

When the day of prom finally arrived, you took your time making yourself look extra nice. You wondered if there was a chance that the night would feel like something out of a movie, like with Gerard confessing that he liked you too as you danced to a beautiful song while lights twinkled, your lips meeting for the first time in a perfect kiss, or maybe pig's blood would get dumped on Brock's head. Both would be satisfying to you.

You were double checking yourself in the mirror when you heard the doorbell ring downstairs and your heart began pounding. This was it, showtime. Hurrying downstairs, you saw your mom had let Gerard in, as he stood nervously by the door. 

“Hey Gee,” you smiled. He looked so nice in his suit, with his hair washed and combed neatly. “You look great!”

Gerard looked stunned when he saw you. “Wow, (YN) you look really pretty.”

“Aww, thanks,” you smiled. “I got you a boutonniere, if you want?”

“Oh sure.”

You were pinning it on when the flash of a camera startled you. “Mom,” you whined when you saw that she was taking photos.

“This is too cute for me not to commemorate!” She said, “I’ll send copies over to your mom too, Gerard.”

“Thanks Ms. (YLN),” he said politely.

“Ok, I think it’s on right,” you said, stepping back and making sure the flower wouldn't tumble off his jacket.

“Here’s your corsage,” he said, holding up a box. Inside was a beautiful pink rose that matched your dress perfectly, surrounded by small sprigs of baby’s breath. 

“Oh Gee, it’s perfect!” You marveled as he took it out and slipped it onto your wrist.

“Will you pose for one photo?” You mom asked.

“Do you mind?” You asked Gerard.

“It’s fine,” he nodded. You stepped closer to Gerard and he wrapped his arm around your waist. It felt so comforting having his arm around you.

“You two are adorable,” your mom said after taking a few photos. “(YN), don’t forget your curfew is midnight.”

“Yes mom,” you rolled your eyes as you and Gerard hurried out of the house to escape your mom before she could take any more photos.

Luigi, the old man who owned your favorite pizza place, was working behind the counter when you arrived and he seemed very amused to see you and Gerard there in your formal wear. He even gave you each a free cannoli when you explained you were on your way to prom.

"Do you still like that one song, 'Here It Goes'?" Gerard asked between bites of pizza.

You lit up. "Yes! It's such a fun song! You remembered I like it?"

“Yea, I heard it the other day and it reminded me of you," he replied, his cheeks turning a little pink.

You nodded, but inside your heart was fluttering. Knowing that Gerard was listening to your favorite song and thinking of you made you feel so special. "It's too bad there's no chance they'll play it tonight," you shrugged before taking a sip of your soda.

"Yea," Gerard agreed, but he seemed distracted. 

When you and Gerard finally arrived at the hotel ballroom where the prom was being held, it was full of your classmates dancing. The music was ok, but you were worried Gerard wouldn’t have fun, knowing that the music wasn’t really his taste. 

“Wow, I didn’t think it’d be this nice,” Gerad said looking around at the decorations and the lights illuminating the dance floor in a soft glow. You looked over at him, and the look of awe on his face warmed your heart. He glanced back at you and smiled. “Thanks for asking me. I never would have come otherwise.”

“No one I’d rather be here with,” you replied. “Can we grab a table? My shoes are starting to kill my feet.”

Gerard led the way to a table near the dancefloor where you could people-watch and chat together. You didn’t get up to dance, as none of the songs felt right, but as the night wore on, it seemed like Gerard had something on his mind.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” you announced after a while.

“Ok,” Gerard said, glancing over his shoulder at the dance floor. You knitted your brows together in confusion, but he didn’t notice.

When you came back into the ballroom, you noticed Gerard seemed to be looking for you and your heart skipped knowing that he was looking for you.

“What’s up?” You asked when you got back to him.

“I, umm-” he started. But he was interrupted by the start of a familiar song.

‘On, it's on, I declare my room a scene gone, then gone’

"Wait, are they playing Jimmy Eat World?" You gasped and then it dawned on you. “Gerard, did you do this?"

Gerard grinned and nodded.

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and pulling him on the dance floor. If other people were watching you dance like weirdos with barely any rhythm, you didn’t notice or care because your favorite song was on, and you were with your favorite person. 

“(YN), I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me the past few weeks,” Gerard said once the song was over.

"It was really nothing. I've had so much fun and," you paused. You'd wanted so badly to tell him how you felt, it may as well happen now. "I really li-"

Just then Gerard was shoved toward you. You grabbed his arms to steady him and when you looked up, his face was inches from yours.

"Fuckin loser," Brock muttered as he walked past.

You saw anger flash across Gerard's face before he turned to the bully. “What the fuck is your problem?!” He barked.

"Gee, no! It's not worth it," you shouted, grabbing his arm and holding him back.

"You finally man up, Way?" Brock taunted. "Why don't you fuckin-"

"That's enough," the voice of Mr. Spencer, one of the gym teachers, cutting him off. "You're out!"

"What?! What for? " Brock whined. 

"Harassing other students, and I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here. Let's go," he replied, marching the bully out.

You let out a stunned laugh watching Brock, Ashley, and their group leave. "Wow, I really hope that's the end of it."

"I doubt it," Gerard mumbled. "Sorry you have had to put up with that."

“It's fine, I know it's him being a jerk, not you," you smiled up at him reassuringly. "Umm, do you wanna go now?"

"We haven't really danced that much yet," Gerard replied to your surprise.

Then, as if on cue, a slow song started. "Well would you like to dance?" You asked.

Gerard nodded and when you looked up into Gerard's eyes he seemed so nervous, but hopeful. Your heart skipped a beat as his hands found your waist and you placed your hands on his shoulders. Glancing up again, you gave Gerard a soft smile and he smiled back before glancing away nervously.

For a moment you considered telling him how you felt right then, but you didn't want to make the moment awkward if he didn't feel the same way. It was totally ok if he didn't, but you wanted this memory to remain beautiful. That's when you noticed Gerard tentatively sliding his hands from your waist to your back, pulling you closer. You smiled contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder. Yes, this is how you wanted to remember this night.

"Ready to go?" You asked when the song ended, and another loud song that neither of you liked began.

"Yea," he nodded. As you headed through the crowd to the door, he took your hand, surprising you a little.

"Wanna go someplace else?" Gerard asked when you reached the car.

"Like?"

"Milly's diner?"

"Ooh yes! I could go for a milkshake," you nodded excitedly.

When you arrived, the diner was practically deserted, but that made it even better as you settled into a booth.

"Were you really going to fight Brock back there?" You asked after the tired looking waitress dropped off your menus.

Gerard laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I dunno, he'd probably kick my ass."

"You could tag me in," you laughed. "You know I'd do whatever to help you."

"I know," Gerard said looking at the coffee the waitress placed in front of him. "Thanks for that."

You just smiled and reached across the table. Now would be a perfectly fine time to tell him, but the words stuck in your throat. You gave his hand a squeeze and hoped it somehow conveyed what you felt. 

After a couple hours spent in the booth at Milly's Diner, Gerard settled the bill and you got back in the car for the short drive home. It was a quiet drive, the radio filling the silence until Gerard pulled into his driveway.

You both got out and wandered to the front of the car. You knew you weren't ready for the night to end, and it seemed like Gerard felt the same way given how he lingered.

"So I guess this is it then?" He said finally.

"What's it?" You asked.

"Prom's over so you don't have to take pity on me and fake going out with me anymore," he said, fidgeting with the keys in his hand.

You felt like you'd been punched in the heart. You nodded and decided this was it, your last chance. "But what if I said I want to really date you?"

Gerard looked up, surprise written on his face. "What?"

"I mean, unless you don't wanna date me, it's ok," you replied, and tried to keep your disappointment hidden.

"I do though! I do wanna date you (YN)," he replied, a little stunned. "I just didn't think you cared about me like that, like this was all just an act."

"I'm really honored that you think I'm the next Meryl Strep, but nope. I stopped acting a while ago," you said, turning to face him.

"You don't care what people will think?" He said looking down at his shoes.

"Why start now?" You reached out and tilted his chin up so he was looking at you. "All I care about is you." 

"I really wanna kiss you," he said softly, surprising you a little.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that," you breathed as he leaned in and his lips met yours softly. You leaned into him and draped your arms around his shoulders as he held you tight, the kiss deepening. Your heart was racing, this was everything you’d hoped the night would be, and you couldn’t be happier.

"Wanna come over tomorrow and hang out?" Gerard offered.

"Yea, I'd love to," you nodded excitedly. "I'll see ya then."

"Goodnight," he smiled.

"Night," you replied, leaning in and giving him a quick kiss before heading inside to spend the rest of the night dreaming about the wonderful evening you'd just had and what was to come.