#(and she pointed out that “it’s not that you can’t make friends it’s that you can’t keep them”)

[brenwritesss]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: Azzi’s been one of your best friends since you were a kid. Transferring to UConn was not easy, but having your best friend by your side made it better. That is until you meet a familiar pair of blue eyes that Azzi makes you swear is off-limits.

“Azzi, I can’t do this no more,” you said, pausing to take a long breath out of exhaustion. “Too many boxes.”

Azzi pushed the last box into your new dorm room behind you. Transferring from UMiami to UConn was not what you had in mind a year ago, but after finishing your sophomore year, you knew you needed something different, even if you didn’t want to leave the beautiful Florida beaches behind. When Azzi brought up the idea of you transferring to UConn, at first you didn’t consider it, but waking up every day to a text from your best friend giving you a reason to why you should transfer to her school may have been enough to convince you.

“It’s your fault for packing up this much shit.” She opens up one of the boxes beside you and reaches for an old psychology textbook. “I mean why are you bringing shit like this with you? You’re not even majoring in psychology.”

You take the book away from her, earning a laugh in return. “You never know when you might need it. Besides, this has all of my old notes in it from when I took psychology freshman year…it could be useful.”

Azzi plops onto your new bed, putting her hands behind her head as she lies down. “You call it useful, I call it hoarding.”

Slightly offended at her joke, you take a pillow from the floor and throw it at her. “Watch your mouth, Fudd.”

Azzi catches the pillow with ease and holds it in her lap. “On that note, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you say, smiling at her. You cross your arms over your chest. “At least now I can finally see you ball in person.”

Azzi let out a laugh that proved your point. “Perfect timing now that I’m cleared to play, don’t you think?”

“You calling me your lucky charm or what?” You send a playful wink and Azzi being Azzi, she blushes before rolling her eyes.

“Stop fucking flirting with me.” 

You burst out laughing. “Azzi, babes you need to work on your game,” you say between laughs. “And I’m not talking about ball.”

Azzi could practically get her eyes stuck in the back of her head from the amount of times she was rolling her eyes at you. “You always do this. Enough.”

“It’s not my fault my best friend is so hot,” you continue laughing. “I know I’m not the only one flirting with you.”

“I swear you’re just like Paige,” she says under her breath just enough for you to hear it.

“Paige…like your teammate Paige? From USA basketball camp?”

Azzi meets your eyes and nods. “Yeah, she’s a freak. Always says she’s got ‘top rizz in the world’ or something like that,” she puts her fingers up in air quotations. “She somehow got worse from high school.

“That’ll be crazy to see.” You’ve heard of Paige Bueckers. Who hasn’t? You remember when Azzi first brought her up after competing with her for team USA back in high school. The first time you met Paige was when she flew to Virginia to visit Azzi during her state championship and Katie had you two meet. She definitely made her presence known back then, especially at Azzi’s games, yelling at the refs and constantly bumping into your shoulders.

You remember one night specifically when it was Azzi’s birthday party and when everyone went to sleep, you and Paige went out on a late Taco Bell run because there was no more pizza left. That was the first time you had a real conversation with the blonde girl. And you weren’t oblivious; you noticed when her gaze lasted on you for more than it should’ve. And she always noticed when yours lasted on hers too long. And when you leaned in a little more than you should have; and she mirrored your action.

The last time you saw Paige Bueckers as a friend, you had just received your decision letter from UMiami and had gone to Azzi’s house to open the letter. You remember screaming and jumping with Azzi and her family when you read that you had been accepted. Paige had walked up to you to congratulate you on your admission with a fist bump. The touch was electric and you swore that for five minutes after, you could still feel her knuckles against yours.

Hours later after dinner with the Fudd’s, you walked out of their house to get into your car when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Yo, wait.”

You turn around, seeing Paige in front of you. “What’s up?”

“I’m very happy for you. Miami seems cool.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to why she stopped you to say this again when she had said it earlier. “Thanks. Good luck at UConn.”

“Thanks,” she says and pauses, looking as if she was contemplating her next sentence. “Is this the last time I’m seeing you?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. If you ever visit Azzi during breaks, then you’ll probably see me.”

“And if I don’t want to wait until breaks?”

You were taken back. “What?”

“Like when Azzi comes to UConn, which she will, you’ll come visit?”

You shrug again. “Depends on how things go.”

“I’ve actually been wanting to say something to you since that night at Taco Bell.” She looked down at the ground before looking back up at you.

“Okay.”

“Look, what we did…I just want you to know that you kinda been on my mind since.”

You nod slowly. “It’s really hard to take you seriously when you refer to it as ‘that night at Taco Bell.’”

Paige lets out a low laugh. “What would you call it then?”

“Call it what it is. We made out in your car that happened to be parked in the Taco Bell parking lot.”

Paige smiles. “So you’d be down to do it again then?”

“Don’t tell Azzi.”

“Deal.”

“How is Paige?” You ask Azzi, pretending as if you’re just making normal conversation but really, you’re waiting to hear the information you’ve known since you cut things off with Paige.

Azzi shrugged. “Annoying as fuck, ego through the roof, always laughing. So basically the same since you last saw her.”

“Yeah, she’s grown into a bit of a celebrity hasn’t she?”

“Yeah. Have you seen the edits?”

You nod.

“You know what, I should text Paige. Let her know you transferred,” she says, taking out her phone. “I’m sure she’ll be stoked to see you.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sure she’s busy enough.”

Azzi shook her head. “No she’s not, trust. She asks about you sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I just tell her to text you since she has your number.” Azzi continues to text on her phone, not looking up at you once.

“Like I said, probably busy.”

Azzi puts her phone down after she finishes her text. “One thing I want to talk to you about though.”

“Yeah?” You meet her gaze and bite your lip, waiting to see what she’ll see.

“Paige is a bit different,” she tells you. “I don’t know what happened but after she graduated and came here, she became a bit of a fuckboy. So, if she flirts with you or anything like that, don’t think too much into it because she now flirts with everything with a heartbeat.”

“That’s…interesting,” you comment, knowing the answer as to why she changed. “Out of curiosity, what do you think happened?”

Azzi shrugged. “Don’t tell her I’m telling you this but the Summer before she left for UConn, I think she had a girlfriend or something. She started getting like secretive as fuck and more happy in a way. Then after she left for college, I think they broke up because she was in a slump and started hooking up with girl after girl.”

“Do you know who the girl was?”

Azzi shook her head. “Not at all, but I do know that she broke Paige’s heart. So I automatically hate her by default.”

If only she knew that girl was standing right in front of her.

“Azzi I told you I don’t want to go out tonight,” you argue, trying to walk back to your dorm. 

Azzi’s hand grabs yours and pulls you into step with her. “No, you need to make more friends and I want you to meet the rest of my team.”

“Maybe another time,” you continue to argue. This was the moment you had been dreading when you knew that Azzi would eventually drag you out to see her teammates. More specifically, Paige.

“No, you’re going.”

Azzi opens the door to Ted’s and waits for you to walk in before she does. You immediately scan the bar, looking for the tall blonde and your skin immediately started to crawl when you realized she was nowhere in sight. She should be here, you thought to yourself. This is her place, why isn’t she here?

You tried to convince yourself that you wanted nothing to do with her after you chose to walk away from her, but deep down you knew that was a load of bullshit. You just needed to see her.

“Azzi, over here!” A voice called out from over the loud music in the bar. Both you and Azzi looked over to your left being met with a table full of girls, some of which wearing UConn merchandise. You had recognized some of them from when Azzi would post them on Instagram.

Azzi grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the table. Still there was no sign of Paige.

“This is Y/n,” Azzi said as she introduced you to her teammates. “She just transferred from Miami.”

You take a small step behind Azzi, meeting the eyes of all the tall girls who sat there looking at you. “Hi.” Was all you could say because even though Paige wasn’t there, you could practically feel her presence in the air. And that put you even more on edge.

“Girl boo, why you so nervous?” A girl who you recognized from Azzi’s instagram walked to stand beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Azzi been talking shit behind our backs or something?”

“KK, can you not?” Azzi laughs over the loud music and grabs a drink that was sitting on the table. “You’re going to scare her off.”

“How can we scare her off? She’s already friends with you,” KK retaliates and the entire table erupts in laughter.

“KK that’s so mean.” A girl who you learn to be Aubrey, says. 

After a while you begin to let loose, taking the drinks that Azzi keeps offering you, knowing that at any moment she could show up and you wanted to be drunk for it. It wasn’t a surprise that the team took you in as if you were one of their own and Azzi couldn’t be happier that you had acclimated so quickly. 

You felt like you’ve been at Ted’s for days, dancing and drinking so much that you felt as if your entire body could explode within a matter of seconds. You normally weren’t much of the party type, even back in Miami. Sure, you had your fair share of frat and sorority parties but you never stayed for more than a few hours, and it helped that your roommate wasn’t that much into the party scene either. 

“So what are you studying?” KK asks you as she sips on a coke.

It takes a while for her words to register with you as your head is being pulled in a million different directions. “Um,” you start, shaking your head as the music somehow gets louder. “Switched from psychology to business my sophomore year.”

KK’s eyes widened slightly. “Period. That’s a huge switch girl.”

You nod, “Yeah, uh…” You can’t feel your head. You can’t organize your thoughts. It’s all too much. You squint your eyes and make eye contact with her. “If you see Azzi, tell her I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back.”

“O-okay,” KK said with a concerned expression, making you waste no time in heading towards the bar’s exit.

As soon as you feel that air rushing to you, you were finally calming down. You took this moment to ground yourself and lean against the wall of the bar, catching your breath. She’s not coming, no reason to freak out. You grab your phone to check the time, seeing that it was only 11:30 p.m. You shut your eyes, feeling yourself becoming even calmer.

A car door slams about a couple hundred feet away from you and the hair on the back of your neck immediately stands up. 

“I told you I didn’t want to come here tonight. Is it so hard to understand that I just wanted to spend time with you alone?” A high-pitched voice echoes through the air.

“And I told you we could have done that any other day. Just not today.” That sounds familiar.

“Why? What’s so special about today that you have to come to Ted’s?” The girl seemed so pissed you could have sworn she would have left by now.

That familiar voice sounded irritated. “Team’s here and I want to hang with them.”

“You see them everyday.”

“Please baby?”

Just look up and open your eyes.

“Fine but you owe me.”

What sounds like a kiss makes it’s way to your ears, making you almost gag on instinct. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

And that’s when you look up and see the tall blonde you have been dreading to see since you arrived in Connecticut. Everything about her was still so perfect. How was that even possible? Those hands you had held, lips you had kissed, arms you’ve been in. The smiles she would give you. It all came rushing back in that instant. Azzi was right, she looked just fine out here without you. You convinced yourself that you would be better without her, finding someone new and moving on. Only in this moment, you realized that she had moved on with someone else and you were stuck right back in the place you had started.

And when her eyes glance up as she’s about to walk into the bar and locks with yours, it’s enough to make her stop in her tracks and make her arms fall to her sides. It’s enough to make you wonder if she really was just fine. You can’t look away and neither can she. Her body tells you that she’s different. That she doesn’t know you anymore. But her eyes tell you that she’s the same girl from senior year. The same girl from the late night drives and secret makeouts. The same girl who told you to come to UConn with her before you left. 

You wake up with a pounding headache, feeling groggy and uncomfortable as you shifted to get out of bed. You pick up your phone which is filled with missed messages from Azzi.

Where you at?

KK said you went out for air but you never came back. U ok?

Should I be sending out a search party for you?

Paige just got here and said she didn’t see you outside.

Didn’t see you? That bitch. You were all she could see for maybe five whole fucking minutes. You text Azzi back: sorry had a pounding headache so went back to the dorm. Sad I missed her, maybe next time.

You put your phone back down to change into a new outfit, figuring the best way to distract yourself from Paige would be to go to the dining hall and eat. After getting changed, you grab your phone and walk out of your dorm room, locking it behind you. When you turn back around, you’re met with a tall body in front of you from across the hall.

“Y/n.” Paige is standing in front of you, hair messy and sweatpants just a bit lower than her waistline, exposing the band of her boxers. It was clear to you where she was coming from. And just your luck that you would be living across the hall from her fuckbuddy.

You wanted to scream at her. For what? You had no idea. You wanted her to feel how you felt last night. Every piece of it. So you may have said the most stupidest response you could have ever said at that moment. “Do I know you?”

Her head tilted slightly, the smallest flash of hurt in her eyes. She bites her lip before responding, “You can’t be serious.”

“You should pull up your pants, fuckboy isn’t a good look on you.” And all you do is walk away, leaving her there in the hallway because even though you want to talk to her, you have to move on now. And she needed to know that.

We need to talk.

You don’t get to be upset with me.

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb, letting out a long sigh before putting on Azzi’s jersey. Today they were playing Seton Hall at home and Azzi immediately dropped off her jersey at your dorm, saying you needed to ‘represent your team and show your support.’ In other words, she wanted to make you finally wear her jersey after you had refused to wear it since high school.

You meet up with Kayla early at Gampel, making sure to get good seats to be able to see the court up close. Azzi had introduced you to Kayla shortly after meeting her teammates and the two of you clicked instantly. Because even though she was good friends with the team, she understood what it was like being on the sidelines while they focused on basketball. 

“Did Azzi make you wear her jersey?” Kayla asked you, eyeing the huge 35 that was written across your torso.

You laugh, nodding to her as you take a picture of the court on your phone. “Yeah, she’s been trying to get me to wear her jersey since high school. I figured I’d finally let her win that battle.”

Kayla laughs along with you. “She tried to get me to wear it too so I opted for a shirt with her face on it. Same with Paige.”

You hated to admit it but your eyes lit up at the mention of Paige. “Bet Paige loved that.”

“Yeah, she did.” Kayla looks over at you. “You’ve known her for a while right?”

“Paige?” you ask. “Yeah, I met her back in high school when she came to visit Azzi.”

Kayla raised her eyebrows. “So how was she in high school? Huge ego or no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Ego is always huge. But from what I remember, she was cool. We got along well and she was insane when it came to basketball. Still is.”

“Were you guys close?”

You stay silent for a while, trying to choose the right words. Because you two were as close as two girls could be and nobody knew that. But now you were as far apart as you had been before you had even met. “Something like that.”

The lights dimmed and the announcer came on, announcing the team as each player ran out. Azzi comes running out of the locker room, a huge grin plastered across her face. As soon as she makes it onto the court, she flashes you a smile and sends you a thumbs up, which you return. She sits down as the others run through and you wait for Paige to come out. She was the last to run through and you could feel your heart physically leap out of your chest for her. Fucking embarrassing.

Paige high-fives fans through the tunnels and goes to sit down by Azzi, not before meeting your eyes in the crowd, making her stop in her tracks for just a split second before sitting down. Her eyes were taunting, almost daring you to make a move. And by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t going to reject it either. At least that’s what you were thinking.

The game starts with UConn winning the tip-off and Kaitlyn getting possession of the ball. Throughout the quarter, Paige couldn’t stop making eye contact with you and you knew better than anyone that just your presence alone was enough to throw her off her game. She missed shot after shot resulting in a furious Geno yelling more than usual on the sideline. After missing two free throws, Azzi pats Paige on the back, giving her a look that screams ‘get it together.’ You could tell Paige was tense by the way her hands were balled into fists when she didn't have possession of the ball. She constantly tightened the elastic of her ponytail, a habit she had when she got nervous.

By halftime, Paige looked defeated and maybe that was your cue to leave. It was hard to believe that an ex-girlfriend from high school would be enough to throw off the game of the number one women’s college basketball player in the world. But here we are.

You knew Paige was feeling out of her element, watching past UConn games during your free time back in Miami. She was a good player. A good enough player to not be playing in a funk. Was your presence that triggering?

Eventually, Paige was subbed out, an irritated expression across her face as she sat down on the bench with her shoulders slumped. Caroline sat beside her, patting her shoulder gently to aid her in comfort. Paige took a sip of water before using a towel to wipe off the remaining sweat from her face. You go from staring at the back of her head to making eye contact with her as she turns to look at you. You quickly look away, completely embarrassed over the fact that Paige knew you were definitely already looking at her.

You look down at your feet and then back up towards the game when Paige catches your eye again, nudging her head towards the locker room. You shake your head, trying not to make it obvious to Kayla who was too engrossed in the game even to notice the small interaction. Paige’s mouth created a small line as she gave you an urgent look, resulting in you sighing and getting up out of your seat to walk to the locker room. 

You meet her just past the door. “What?”

Paige closes the door to the locker room, leaving only you two inside. She leans against the door and crosses her arms together in front of her chest. “You’re ignoring me.”

You mimic her movement and cross your arms against your chest. “Ignoring what exactly?”

Paige rolls her eyes. “Don’t fucking be like that. You don’t get to be pissed at me. Why the fuck are you upset with me? I haven’t seen you in four years, Y/n.”

Your name came so effortlessly from her mouth like muscle memory. The way her jersey clung to her body, your eyes outlining her biceps up to her eyes. She was magical. You tear your eyes away, not wanting to make it obvious. “I’m not fucking upset with you. I actually haven’t thought about you once since I’ve been here.”

Paige laughs at that. “Not once? Because the way you looked at me outside of Ted’s and outside of your dorm makes it seem like you have a grudge against me or something.”

“I don’t,” you say, avoiding eye contact with her. “What exactly do you want me to say? It’s clear you moved on.”

Paige’s eyes widened, practically popping out her face. “That’s what this is about? Because of that girl you saw me with?” She unravels her arms from each other and points at you. “You fucking broke up with me four years ago. Why the fuck are you upset about me getting with other people?”

“I’m not fucking upset!” you scream as it echoes across the locker room. “I’m trying to leave you in my fucking past and you keep popping up like a goddamn fly.”

“So you thought transferring to the school where I play basketball was a good way to leave me in your past?” she asked you with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Not everything is about you, Paige,” you say. “I transferred here because I needed out of Miami and Azzi came up with the idea. I don’t care who you date.”

“Right because you definitely weren’t pissed to the point where you pretended you didn’t know who I was when you walked out of your dorm a few weeks ago.” 

“Paige.” Your tone becomes lighter. “Up until that night outside Ted’s, I hadn’t seen you since right before I left for Miami. And you look so different to the point where I don’t recognize you.”

Paige rolls her eyes. “It’s called aging.”

You shake your head, giving her an annoyed look. “I’m not talking about your physical look. I’m talking about senior year Paige who went on late-night drives with me.”

“Well, that was the same Paige who got her heart broken by a girl who didn’t even bother trying to make it work. It was clear you weren’t that into me like I was with you.” You could hear the pain in her voice and that made your heart hurt. Even after four years.

“I didn’t break your heart. I’ve heard the stories about what you’ve been up to since we broke up and it seems like you’re doing just fine.”

Paige shifts her body so that she’s standing in front of you again, practically forcing eye contact. Her having a towering height over you didn’t help either. “And what have you heard?”

You meet her eyes and shrug. “Apparently you get around a lot.”

She shoots you a disgusted look. “And you haven’t? Azzi’s told me about the girls you’ve dated since you left.”

You roll your eyes once more. “Okay.”

“You seem to be really into blue eyes and blonde hair by the way. I wonder who set that type up for you.” Paige smirked at her remark, resulting in you letting out a loud scoff.

“At least I tried to date the girls I was seeing.” You take a step closer. “Do all the hookups help?”

Paige looks down at you, taking a step closer with her hands behind her back. “To get rid of the thought of you? What do you think?” You can’t think of anything else to say and she knows it. She knows she’s getting you right where she wants you. “Why are you upset that I was with another girl?”

“It’s hard not to feel some type of way,” you say quietly, mumbling so fast to save your own dignity.

Paige leans closer. “Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

You sigh heavily before repeating, “It’s hard not to feel some type of way.”

She leans even closer. “One more time.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You pull away from her and she lets out a laugh.

“So after four years, you’re jealous?”

“And you wouldn’t be?”

The look on her face was priceless. Amused yet confused because five minutes ago you were just screaming at her and now you just admitted to your ex-girlfriend that she made you jealous. Paige stepped closer and you had no interest in stepping back. It took everything in you not to step even closer to her. 

“You’re infuriating and I should hate you.”

You tilt your head up to her. “And do you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” In a second, she’s on you. Pulling at your clothes and moving her mouth with yours. You waste no time in responding to her touch, moving your lips against hers while your fingers tangle into her ponytail. You let a hand drift down to the base of her jawline and all those old, high-school feelings came rushing back. In that moment you realized just how much of a hold she had over you, her touch bleeding into yours. 

This kiss made up for four years of mistakes. Four years of missing her and regretting that decision you made. You needed to prove to her that it wasn’t going to happen again. And by the way her tongue fought against yours was as if she believed it too. Your heart beat picked up as you both fell into a steady and rough rhythm. Paige couldn’t decide whether she wanted her hands around your waist or caressing your lower back, moving her hands upward. You could feel Paige craving you as she moved her lips faster, more aggressively. You kept your hands on her jaw to stabilize yourself as you thought you might faint. You could smell the subtle musk mixed with sweat that drifted off of her, the heat coming off her body and pulling you in.

“What the fuck?” Azzi’s voice pulled your lips apart, causing you to instantly take a step away from Paige, whose hands still lingered on your back.

The two of you, swollen lips and sweaty hands, turn to Azzi who looks as if she has seen a ghost, dropping the towel she was holding from pure shock.

Paige wipes her lips, looking from you back to Azzi. “Az, hey.”

Azzi’s eye twitched, insinuating that she was clearly pissed. “Hey?” Azzi takes a step forward. “What the fuck did I just see?”

You turn to fully face Azzi and Paige looks back at you. You step towards Azzi. “Azzi, I swear this isn’t what it looks like.”

“That’s bullshit. I just saw my two best friends making out.” 

You shake your head, “No, no…” you pause. “Well yeah, but we’re not together or anything. It just happened. A one-time thing, I swear.”

Paige’s head snaps toward yours. You fucked up once again. “One-time thing?”

Azzi looks between the two of you. “Y/n, what is she talking about?”

A million thoughts ran through your head, debating if you should tell Azzi that you and Paige had dated. It felt wrong to keep it from her for this long. You sigh, scratching the back of your neck. “Paige and I used to date back in high school.”

“What?” Azzi asked, clearly hurt written over her face.

You walk towards her so that you’re now right in front of her. “That night at your sleepover when Paige was visiting, we left to go to Taco Bell and things happened in the parking lot which turned into us secretly dating for a while.”

Azzi shook her head and looked to Paige, looking for any sense of clarity. “Paige?”

Paige couldn’t look at her, light tears lining her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Azzi’s head drops. “So you both have been lying to me this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to mess up our friendship or mess up yours and Paige’s,” you say, trying to justify your mistake.

Azzi couldn’t even look at you. “This is fucked, Y/n.” She paces the locker room and suddenly pauses, turning towards you. “You’re the girl.”

“What?”

“The girl who broke Paige’s heart.” Azzi looks between the two of you again. “It was you this entire time?”

Paige steps in front of you, waving her hand slowly in front of Azzi to try to calm her down. “Azzi, that was four years ago.”

Azzi laughs. “So the entire time I watched you hurting was because of my best friend?”

You turn to Paige who avoids eye contact with you. You turn back to Azzi. “It was fucking high school, Azzi. We were both going to college. What was I supposed to do?”

Azzi grits her teeth, pointing a finger in your face. “You weren’t supposed to lie to me. Do you think I would have cared if you dated Paige in high school? No. But now I know that for the past four years, the two of you have been lying to me.”

“Azzi, we didn’t want to hurt you.” Paige stepped in for you, trying to diffuse the situation.

“If you really don’t want to hurt me, you won’t see each other anymore,” Azzi says.

You and Paige both widen your eyes. “What?”

“It would make me more comfortable if you guys didn’t hang out alone. At least not for a while.”

You go to object, wanting to work this out with her to reach any other solution. Because keeping you and Paige apart was not going to end well. 

Paige beats you to it. “Anything you want, Azzi.”

Your heart stops and your head snaps to her. How…why? Did she blame you for everything that’s happened? Why would she agree to that so quickly?

The two of them looked at you as they anticipated your answer. You blink a few times, trying to process Paige’s answer. “If that’s what you want then yeah, no problem at all.”

Azzi gives you both a light smile, nodding in agreement. “Okay good. That makes me feel a lot better actually.” Azzi picks up the towel she dropped on the floor, tossing it into a dirty towel bin. She waves Paige over. “Come on, we gotta go.”

Azzi leaves the locker room as Paige turns to you. “Not really sure what to say.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? Because it sounded like you were very sure when you told Azzi you’d do whatever she wanted.”

Paige leans toward your ear, whispering, “Payback’s a bitch isn’t it?”

And just like that, Paige is gone. Again.

[sadagios]

Icarus, and the Sunflower

PART TWO: UNFIXABLE ERROR

PROLOGUE: PART ONE

3.4k words below the cut

SOME BEGINNING NOTES: - This AU is only character shipping, and references a lot outside the life series events (evo, hermitcraft, empires, etc). This is not meant to ship the CC’s themselves and if anything alludes to it, it is purely unintentional. - This is not canon-compliant ermmmm i do what i want and i will put every idea i have into this - No more bullet points this time... taking off the baby wheels - This is to add more to the first part! Please read that one before this if you haven't - Tags for this part? Game dev AU, Past BigB/Grian, a lot of BigGri flirting, some characters are real and some are fictional, this is only the prologue (part 2!), Grian is still down bad for Scar, absolutely not beta'd i only have one impulsive braincell, contains some fake chats

I. HALLOWEEN

The game awards have been announced, and it was the talk of the company. Evolutionists’ Portal has been online for 4 months now, and it built itself a dedicated fan base with a peak of about 80k players a month. Updates were still on the way, scheduled for Halloween and Christmas Day.

The team working on Evolutionists’ Portal hoped for a nomination, and maybe even an award. Gria hoped for this, as well, but he was too tired to even think with everything on his plate. Their art director quit suddenly, so he was carrying out two big roles, but even when the past art director was there, he was basically doing most of his work.

The team took notice of his exhaustion and invited him to the company Halloween party. Gria didn’t want to, but Martyn had a brilliant idea for making a bet: Gria believed they would get one nomination, and Martyn believed it would be two. If Gria wins, Martyn will get him breakfast every day until Christmas. If Martyn wins, Gria has to wear an outfit to the party of his choosing. Gria thought it was a harmless bet, and he’d actually benefit from it, so he agreed.

Jimmy is his closest friend in the company, but Jimmy was also busy with his work in Empires. There are talks of a big collaboration and he knows he can’t get ahold of Jimmy until it is settled. One morning, a cup of coffee appeared on his desk with a note attached to it that said,

“You might need a little boost in your morning.”

Gria had no idea who it could be from until he noticed a wrapped piece of warm, chocolate cookie beside the cup. He looked up from his desk and met eyes with Big B, who smiled and gave him a little wave before resuming his work.

His crush on Big B was no secret. The man is funny and handsome, and he and Gria started in the company together. Martyn was the first one to catch it, the way he gets giggly and embarrassed around Big B, and he’s been on Gria’s case since. Pearl found out about it through Martyn’s teasing, but she had the grace not to poke fun at Gria (only sometimes.) Jimmy still hasn’t caught on, and Martyn bursts out laughing every time Jimmy unintentionally third wheels or cockblocks Gria. Gria has an inkling that Big B might’ve noticed it, but he acts the same way around him, which Gria is thankful for.

The nominations were out the morning of the party, and they were nominated for “Best Multiplayer” and “Best Audio Design.” As soon as the news broke out, Martyn walked in stride to the art department and pulled Gria to the parking lot where Martyn’s car was parked. He opened the trunk, pulled something out, and gave it to Gria with a devilish grin.

Martyn: I’m so excited to meet such a popular singer tonight.

Gria peeked inside the dress cover, he wanted to die.

One night, the team went out drinking. Gria had a few more drinks than he should’ve. He doesn’t remember what happened, but Pearl recorded the whole thing; basically, he got so drunk that he started singing nothing but Ariana Grande songs. To put the final nail in the coffin, he might’ve sat on Big B’s lap as he sang one song.

Gria wore the outfit after being manhandled by everyone into wearing it. Big B wasn’t going to the party as he’d said days before, and while Gria was relieved not to embarrass himself, he also wished for Big B to be there.

Gria wore a ridiculously pink two-piece top and skirt, with a white furry shoal attached to gloves. Pearl also lent him her white boots, which surprisingly fit him well (and gave him a few inches.) The room cheered when he walked in, and he was too embarrassed to walk that Jimmy had to drag him around the room.

Pearl wore a cute green dress, which looked a lot like a character from Empires. Jimmy wore a Captain America costume, but instead of a star had a huge letter S at the middle of his chest. Martyn wore a pirate costume. 

Martyn: What a shame Big B isn’t here to see this.

Martyn teased, and Gria wanted to strangle him right there. Then, without warning, a finger poked his cheek. Gria turned and there Big B was, holding a bloody axe in a bloody costume. Gria remembered the game Big B told him about, a zombie game called “The Creaking Dead.” It was one of the things that led them to become friends, their love for zombie games.

The night went by, celebrating both Halloween and their nominations. Empires also had their own share of nominations, and Jimmy was so giddy that night.

Pearl pulled them four to the photo booth before they could get more wasted. Jimmy grabbed a weird-looking fish beanie and Martyn put on a Mickey Mouse headband. Pearl put on a sunflower crown that fit the gold accents in her dress. They made sure to put Gria and Big B at the center of the photo, and Gria tried not to explode with how close they were. Big B suggested they take a Polaroid photo after for keepsake, and before Gria could head out of the room and go home, Big B gave him a Polaroid photo with a message written in Sharpie.

"Glad I came by today, G. Happy Halloween. ♡"

II. VALENTINE’S DAY

Gria and Big B have been talking and texting each other non-stop for months now. People assume they’re dating, but when Jimmy asked, he clarified that they had no label. It’s true; they haven’t done much. They hung around a lot, and they might’ve fooled around during cold December nights, but it was an unspoken, casual thing. At least, that’s what it was for Gria.

On Valentine’s day, Big B invited him for dinner, and everyone teased them about being lovebirds. That night, Big B finally asked Gria to be his boyfriend.

Gria was happy. Overjoyed. Someone as kind and thoughtful as Big B, who treats him so well, wanted them to be exclusive. He wanted Gria. But the smile on Gria’s face slowly faded as his happiness turned into dread. Big B is too nice for him. Too perfect for him. Too much for someone like him.

Gria turned him down without explaining further. He saw the hurt in Big B’s eyes, but the man still treated him the same: with adoration and care.

Big B drove him home, and that was the last time they talked outside of work.

III. MARCH

Gria finally took some time off. Aside from the upcoming April Fools update, there wasn’t much to be done. The tension between him and Big B has been too much to bear, and he can’t shake the guilt he feels each time Big B leaves a warm cup of coffee with a cute note on his desk.

He lurks on the internet, bored out of his mind. He met this person, PotatoNutshell, and became friends over Hermitopia 6.

IV. APRIL FOOLS

< Let's play like cats, let's count to three. >

The gang liked the Alpha version of “The Life Game.” The map is good (which makes Gria proud as he designed it,) and the mechanics are simple enough to get used to.

There are several problems, though. The motion blur is making everyone sick, and the one who had it the roughest was Joel. The UI is also unintuitive, as you have to look at your wrist to see the messages and your health status, which you can easily lose track of. Then, the computer AI characters are indistinguishable from each other. It was supposed to be a battle royal game, but with only the players having unique skins, it feels a bit more like player versus enemy than a competition.

It was understandable, though, that it didn't have much character customization. The remaining two working on the game are a writer and a programmer, and they have no 3D modeling experience at all. Gria figured he could help out and tinker with it when he had time, especially with how the gang loved the game despite all its flaws.

V. SUMMER, a year later

Gria’s old friends finally messaged him that they added more things to the game, and it might be enough for a beta test. The only thing they haven’t figured out is the character models. Gria confirmed if they were planning to release this game, and the two said “no, not yet. Not anytime soon.” That gave Gria all the liberty to simply tinker with the game just for their own enjoyment.

He asked the team if they had any characters they’d like to mod into the game, preferably with 3D models so they wouldn’t have to worry about rigging and animation too much. Skizzleman suggested Hermitopia characters, which Gria wouldn’t contest because this gives him a great excuse to add Scar into the game.

They needed one more character, and Gria remembered the Empires plush on Jimmy’s desk. The team gave him a free plushie of the “Starboy, The Rivendell King” because all plushies of the “Codfather” were sold out, the one Jimmy usually played as. Still, Jimmy keeps the Starboy plushie on his desk and sometimes carries it with him to the breakroom when he takes a short nap. Gria found the image of Jimmy carrying this plush to be adorable, although he will never say it aloud, so he decided to add Starboy as their final character. He also had Gemini and Shadow Lady (as per Joel’s request) 3D models ready, but he’ll probably add them next time. Pearl also isn’t joining their session for now, so it would be good to save her favorite character for another time.

On one Friday night in April, they all logged on and waited to connect to The Life Game’s private server. Gria was excited to play until he received a message from one of his old friends.

A slight chill crawls up Grian’s arm. He gripped his VR headset, a bit hesitant after his conversation with his old friends. After a moment, he shook off his nerves and wore his headset. He looked at the server status reading “5/6 Players” and hovered his controller over the button that would let him play with his friends. Grian ignored the warning bells and hit “Join World.”

VI. HELLO, WORLD

Gria spawned into the world, a bit dizzy from the sunlight blasting into his eyes. He got off on the ground and surveyed his surroundings, and it seemed like the map was different from the last time. In front of him looked like a ruined portal, which he doesn’t remember adding to the map years ago. Could this be something his old friends added to the map for the Evolutionists’ Portal developers to see? Gria smiled at the sentiment. He looted the chest near it, and it felt a bit like cheating. He joined the game late, but he already had golden gear in his first minutes of playing.

He did some resource gathering, something which they learned was crucial from their alpha test. He travelled and spotted a village, and saw Martyn’s character completely raiding it. Out of all of them, Martyn might have been the one who became so immersed in the gameplay. Even before playing, he was discussing tactics and plans in their call. If it ever came down to it, he knows Martyn would be a formidable opponent with how into it he is. 

Gria traversed the map more until he hit the border. There’s no way to get through it, even if you force it. It also seemed like the friendly creatures weren't able to get past it. It’s a bit scary to think about how they’re stuck in this little box until only one of them remains. It’s a good thing all of this is just a game.

Being the creator of the maps for this game, Gria remembers where most of the biomes are on the map. He goes back to the village and spots Big B.

Excited and without thinking, he jumped in front of Big B and surprised him, which made Big B’s character jump back. But, when Big B met his eyes, he immediately laughed and smiled. 

Before Big B could strike up a conversation, Joel’s voice could be heard from a distance, he looked just like himself in real life, but he wore a costume that reminded Gria of Shrek. He shot Big B a quick look and saw he was wearing something similar to his costume during one of their old Halloween parties. Martyn’s character seemed different, too.

Gria noticed the little shop icon on his screen. When he clicked on it, it opened a shop of a multitude of items that can be bought with experience points. He checked out the costume section and saw that costume accessories were fairly cheap. He bought himself a red sweater, and now his character feels more like him.

He noticed someone trailing behind Joel, a blazing head of fire and red eyes. It took him a while to realize that this was Tango Tek from Hermitopia. When he spoke, both Gria and Joel cranked their neck at him, surprised he could speak. Hermitopia had no voice lines. Despite this fact, Joel excitedly conversed with Tango, prompting him to speak more. Gria excused himself, confused at how this was possible.

He went off to gather more resources before he headed to the village. He saw Big B yet again, and his cheeks flushed at how many times he had seen him by himself. Gria’s a bit awkward around him, but Big B greets him with a smile each time. 

Big B: Are you sneaking up on me, G? Gria, giggling: Hello there, B. Whatcha up to? Big B: Trying to survive the first night, and maybe even you? Gria: Well, I don’t think a danger. Not to you. Big B: A danger to my heart, maybe?

Gria bit his lip and walked away. Big B laughed behind him, and he couldn’t fight back his smile. He looked at the ground and saw Martyn’s faint green name tag. He grinned and turned to Big B, “Wanna scare Martyn?”

They made their way down Martyn’s mining hole, carefully, and they tried not to giggle like a bunch of kids sneaking out in the middle of the night. Gria heard Martyn, talking to himself, and he approached him behind before shouting, “Hey Martyn!”

The three hang around together in the mining hole, chatting and bickering while hoping to find diamonds. Martyn succeeds and even gives them two diamonds each for a sword. The two were dumbfounded at this generosity, and Gria gave Martyn his golden apple in return.

Martyn: I just gave you guys diamonds because we’re buddies, c’mon. Gria: You know what, you can have my most prized golden apple. Martyn: Ooh, what’s this do? Gria: It gives you extra hearts when you eat it. Martyn: You’re giving me hearts? Way to make Big B a third wheel. Big B: Oh my god.

Gria exploded into laughter at this, and Big B shook his head but smiled at the situation.

After the sun had risen, he parted ways with the two and spent his time around the village and looking for a place to stay. He came across another nametag below the ground, and he thought it might’ve been Jimmy. He went down and surprised the man, only to find that it wasn’t Jimmy. 

When he heard Tango speak a while ago, he couldn’t figure out how it was possible. However, he did know of a game around an AI girlfriend who wouldn’t let you leave the house unless you said the right words. To think █████ could add such a feature, for AI to understand and speak back to you, all in a year is quite impressive and he would like to ask him more as soon as they finish playing. He didn’t listen carefully when Tango spoke earlier, and it might’ve been more robotic than he remembered. But now, as Ren screamed in surprise and spoke how Gria spooked the hell out of him, it sounded too much like a real person’s voice.

After mining a bit, Gria went out to the world and built a base at a lovely ravine area. Unfortunately, his resources weren’t enough to make it look pretty, and he suddenly missed the creative freedom he had while playing Hermitopia.

After being alone for so long. He made his way back to the village. Much to his surprise, so many people were there. At the side of the village, a group of characters in iron gear approached him. They excitedly called out his nametag, Grian, to greet him. Just like Ren and Tango’s voices, they all sounded so real. Too real. 

Martyn, Big B, Jimmy, Skizz, and Joel were nowhere to be seen. He was surrounded by characters from a game he spent countless hours playing. They talk and bicker like they are real people, and they sound like real people would. Gria would never be able to think of better voices for them. 

Among the four of them, one stood out the most. He had disheveled hair and a huge scar on his face that went down his neck. Despite having a cape and scarf covering most of his torso, Gria can’t pry his eyes off his huge, exposed right tit.

Completely distracted, something suddenly fell into his hands. It took him a while to process that this man held his hands and gave him flint and steel. Gria looked up, meeting the man’s eyes, and he had this devilish grin that made Gria’s knees weak. He turned his head higher and looked at the man’s nametag, “Scar Goodtimes”

Scar put his arm around Gria and made him face the village, and one of the houses were burning.

Scar: It was Grian! It was him who did it! 

Gria couldn’t move. He couldn’t process what was happening, and he couldn’t care less about how Tango and Etho were trying their best to put out the fire. The man beside him, probably more than 6 feet tall, is Scar Goodtimes. He’s way different from what he remembered, he had shorter hair and markings instead of actual scars, but when he spoke, Gria might’ve melted into the ground if the man didn’t have his arm around him.

Scar: Geez, Grian, what a rapscallion burning down villages.

Scar grinned at him and gave him a wink. It was as if Gria’s hardware crashed. Cleo, BDubs, and Impulse were all talking to him, even playing their jukebox for him, but his mind was filled with one thing and one thing only.

“His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so—”

Something nudged Gria, and Scar was so close to his face that Gria thought he could be hallucinating. Scar whispered into his ear, asking for the flint and steel back, and he complied without a second thought. He gave him a grin before he ran off to the village. Etho and Tango followed suit in panic.

Gria finally breathed. He doesn’t know how this could be possible. He had organized an unofficial voice cast for Hermitopia before, but the chosen voice actor was so off the mark, and everyone else liked it but Gria. But now, Scar’s whisper loops in his head, and he would go to war just to argue that no actor can replicate the sound his ears had been blessed with.

While talking to Etho and Impulse, he saw the historical tree burn. Scar walked in stride and stood beside Gria, waiting for Etho to take notice. Gria and Scar share a mischievous smile as Etho runs to the burning tree. Scar watched the tree burn down, and Gria watched the fire illuminate his face.

Scar: Grian, want to take over the desert with me? Gria: Me? Scar: Yeah, you. Let’s make all the sand ours.

This marks the End of Prologue

Next > ACT ONE: STUCK IN THE DESERT

ENDING NOTES: Took a while to finish this one! supposedly there's more, but it was getting too long so I had to cut it here. The next update will be a bigger one, so it might take months before that is posted. I also plan to do more character design before moving forward with the actual life series events. If you've read this far, thank you for reading!

[scruffycatdaddy]

There he is. The bastard on the bride’s side of the chapel. I can’t believe that my most devout follower would fall in love with His most devout follower. If it wouldn’t cause a war in the heaven’s id hunt down whichever god twisted the fates to make this happen. Dumber wars were fought for less reason…(those Olympians are so vain…)

“Sulking because your ex is here?”

The cackling voice I knew so well.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite Olympian sorceress! I hope you aren’t whom I have to blame for this comedy of errors?”

Hecate cackles “I know better than to garner the ire of a god of revelry. Your piscean nature is not worth the trouble.”

I could always trust Hecate. She understood the chaos of my mind and could easily overpower me. But instead she chose friendship and respects me. The mother of my devout prays to her so it’s natural she would come to give her blessings and behalf of his mother. This family is very blessed with the eclectic pantheon assembled.

“You still miss him?”

“I can’t hide my feelings from you so no point in me denying it.”

“It doesn’t take sorcery to read your face my friend. Revelry misses the Bounty.”

He is a god of Bounty. Many revere him as an autumnal lord of the harvest. But as revelry takes many forms, so does harvest.

“There are rumors of a war coming. Perhaps that is why fate has brought these two together?”

“The fates bring together two commoners to get me back with my Ex? That’s insanity.”

“You two were the ‘it’ couple. And together on the same side again-“

“I have shirked that mantle. It is what drove us apart and destroyed what we had.”

“And yet it was what you did best. Who knew a god of revelry and a god of harvest together would be the most dangerous war gods seen in millennia!?”

“Hecate, please the ceremony is starting.”

The minister was quite a clever man. To weave a ceremony together to honor each of us here was no small feat. He does not have to worry about offending me. I am not a jealous god. Well…except when it came to him.

“If there is anyone here who does not believe these two shall marry, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

All eyes were on me and him. We locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. His eyes still radiate the warmth I knew all those years ago. Even now hardened by the trials we had been through, I could feel his love for me as I’m sure he felt mine for him. Maybe…maybe after all the time we could find something…even just friendship. It would be nice to spend time with him again.

Suddenly, a loud explosion and I was knocked out.

As I came to I saw lightning crawling across the sky and my devout lays lifeless next to his bride. Rage. Carnage. Destruction. This was a deliberate attack against me and I would not let this go unanswered!

I gather myself and look to the sky. That Olympian bastard. We settled the score a long time ago. What cruel long game was he playing here?

“This gathering is heresy! The mixing of pantheons has been forbidden and you gods have done nothing to prevent this! For your crimes against divinity, I have destroyed this bloodline and will destroy your followers!”

I see Hecate protecting as many as she can from the lightning strikes. The other gods are doing their part. But this gathering is a peaceful one. There is only myself and him who can stop this. I look and see He is standing by his devout and blessing her with funeral rites. I walk to him.

“For her sake, not mine, bless him and the others here so they can move on.”

“I am petty, but not so petty that you have to petition on your own’s behalf using my devout’s name.”

“Listen. I just-“

“Shut up you timid prick. To be a war god, you sure are nonconfrontational.”

I had no words to say. He was right. I wanted to speak to him time and time again but I wouldn’t.

“I miss you.” That was all I could mustard out of my lips.

“…I miss you too. But right now I am furious and an elder god to fight. Do you still have some fight left in you?”

His form shifted. From the opulence of harvest golds and shades of autumn, he became enshrouded with a simple black cloak and his sickle became crude yet sharp.

I locked eyes with him again as fire burns from my eyes. My form shifting to that of a warrior with one hundred weapons at his disposal.

“For you my love? Always. Let’s make him regret bringing us back together.”

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

[essycogany]

Sonic And Amy Are A Unique Couple

This is a quick Sonamy rant /ramble session. With a few added clarifications too. Enjoy!

This couple is more unique than you’d think. It’s cool if anyone disagrees. I'm all for a polite debate and respect your opinion. But if you're willing to hear me out, I'll be willing to explain myself as clearly as possible. Great? Awesome! Let’s get started!

Amy doesn't want to change Sonic. I will scream this until I'm not able to speak any more that Amy loves Sonic for who he is. She always has but it wasn't until IDW that she expressed it out loud. Still one of my favorite moments between them.

Does that make their relationship unique? Not really. What makes their relationship unique is what Amy loves about Sonic is kind of the reason they're not a couple yet. Sonic is an ongoing force that can’t be stopped or changed. Of course, he’ll allow someone to join him on a race, but he still keeps going. Not to say Sonic won’t stop to smell the roses (pun not intended) but he’ll do it on his own time. Amy always likes to take advantage of those moments and best of all, Sonic doesn’t mind. Even during their old chases, he’d slow down for her. Says a lot about the connection they have but there’s more

Their chemistry is…something for lack of a better term. Their back and forth is so interesting to me. Sonic does like Amy back. Notable examples here but to put it shortly, Sonic doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to romance. Sometimes he’s not into it and other times he’s chill. Sometimes Amy is ecstatic and other times she's bashful. I'm looking at you Sonic X.

Every time Amy’s occupied, is when Sonic wants her the most. Amy on the other hand wants Sonic to enjoy his freedom. Neither of them stops to think about how maybe they can have it both ways.

I'll also mention romance isn’t about “being tied down.” That paints romance as if it’s some kind of chain being rapt around your neck or being forced to be with the person. That is not romance. It’s keeping someone hostage. Something Amy would not do. Every time she’d joke around about marrying him Sonic didn’t take it seriously. Heroes included.

Sonic’s line in Heros: “Amy, knock it off. There's no time to play!” Dude knows Amy was messing with him. She was written to be girly, childish, adventurous, and cartoony. No, it wasn’t always executed well. Hello, Sonic Freeriders Amy! But I think this scene summons it up the best.

Important thing to mention as well is Sonic is an outspoken and honest character who rarely lies. It’s either you get the truth or you get nothing. He’s not the type to spare people’s feelings either, so if he had a problem with Amy in the past, he’d tell her directly. I do think she'd also stop if he genuinely told her to. The last thing Amy would want is to tarnish their friendship because of her actions. This loyal girl is so sweet.

Not to mention this is a popular trope in Japan too. The trope was what their relationship was based on.

Back to my original point Sonic and Amy aren’t a traditional couple. That’s a good thing. If they became canon their relationship wouldn’t change if they got together, but also they don’t need labels either. Romance isn’t or shouldn’t be a burden on you. That’s not how love works and that’s not what Sonic believes Amy to be. If that’s the case he wouldn’t be friends with her. Whether you ship Sonic with Amy, someone else, or no one, there should be no doubt Sonic values her friendship.

I’ll also add that Amy is just as up for an adventure as Sonic is. It’s why she loves him so much. They’re a power couple and love going out to travel, so there’s no staying in one place for these two.

In Sonic Adventure 2 you can tell Amy’s intuition when it comes to Sonic. Close to the end, she saw him looking a bit down and noticed his mood shifting a bit. “What’s the matter, Sonic?” “Oh, it’s nothing.” She knows him so well. I don't know what connection they run on but it’s inspiring.

These two don’t have a typical girl/boy relationship. I know some people say, “Well, why can't Sonic and Amy stay friends? Not every male and female relationship needs to be romantic.” You're 100% correct. Here are some examples.

The difference between other relationships is that Amy was created to be a Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey. Which is why these two are treated differently compared to others. Including in merch. There are more examples but I digress. The point is this specific pair is always going to have nuance even if they’re only friends. It doesn’t stop until Amy doesn’t love Sonic and even if it shouldn’t define her, it should still be a part of her. She might work without romance, but we already have other amazing female characters for that.

No one’s obligated to ship them because of this of course. Again, your opinion is still valid, and I will always stick to that point.

Last but not least is their friendship (or situationship) as a whole.

The funny thing is their friendship is what makes their romance the most compelling. The appeal to Sonic and Amy’s dynamic is how much platonic energy they have. Romance doesn’t always mean you need to be lovey-dovey. With Sonamy it’s their powerful friendship that makes the (somewhat not platonic) interactions memorable. You don’t have to choose romantic or platonic. It can be both. I wouldn't be a Sonamy fan if I didn't think their relationship was plain. I'm here because of how different they are.

And I love them to bits. Look at this panel and tell me it isn't running with situationship fuel.

Another fun detail is in recent years despite knowing Amy still loves him, Sonic hugs her back. Even the moments in Sonic X he carries her are moments he offers to. Even when it wasn't necessary.

Can’t forget about the recent asking Amy out to a dinner panel in IDW. He's never done that before. There's a familiarity between the two of them however you look at it. I LOVE them for it.

His moments of genuinely being excited to see her are not due to some development but because Sonic’s passion for Amy has noticeably increased. Why am I bringing these up? It’s because one thing that hasn’t been talked about when it comes to romance is actions. Sure, Sonic doesn't fully confess his feelings to her outwardly. But why do you have to be obvious and in people’s face when it comes to loving someone? In Japan, love is mostly shown through what you do more than what you say. That stuff can happen there but it doesn't always have to. The “Sharing an Umbrella, Amy,” line in Frontiers carries a lot more weight when you think about the implications.

Please read this post by @egalitarian-tomboy if you're interested in the implications of Sonamy in Frontiers.

The up-to-interpretation view of whatever they have together is the main reason I and so many people ship them. It’s not the fact that they are close, but the progression of their closeness. To make a long story short, the appeal of Sonamy is the fact that they don’t have to be traditionally romantic to be an interesting couple. Amy represents expressive love and Sonic represents emotional love.

Stay creative! 💜

[star4daisy]

14/02 I valentine I 715 words I @rosekillermicrofic

(@ecstarry, @del-stars, @moon-seas and for @v7lgar, hope it makes you laugh once you wake up, darling)

“And after all that, James showed up with a huge bouquet and my favourite chocolate to ask me to be his Valentine,” Regulus told Dorcas and Pandora who were listening avidly to his every word.

“How romantic,” Pandora sighed.

Barty frowned. “Wait, haven’t you two been dating for months already?”

“So what?” Regulus asked defensively.

“So why would he need to ask you to be his Valentine? Wasn’t it a given?”

His friends scowled at him. “No, you have to ask even if you’re dating.”

Barty had never heard of that before. “Nah, no way.”

“Wait, does this mean you haven’t asked Evan yet?” Regulus realised.

“Of course not,” Barty scoffed. “We’re dating, he knows he’s my bloody valentine.”

“Does he?” Pandora challenged.

Barty froze. If any of his other friends had said it he’d think they were taking the piss, but this was Pandora — Evan’s twin sister — privy to information he never was when it came to his boyfriend's mind. “Did he say anything?” he asked with uncertainty.

“He didn’t have to.” Pandora shrugged, but she had her famous innocent smile that was anything but, her eyes twinkled in amusement. Barty wanted to shake her, to kneel at her feet and beg to know every thought that passed through Evan’s mind. “But if you didn’t ask, then I’m sure others did.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Barty stood up. “He’s my boyfriend, he can’t be anyone else’s Valentine.”

“Well if you didn’t bother to ask…” She singsonged.

“Shut up, that’s not a thing. You’re all trying to prank me.”

“When have we ever?” Dorcas rolled her eyes at him. “I asked Marlene, it was very sweet and pretty sure Lily asked Dora too.”

Pandora nodded, smiling at the memory of her girlfriend's surprise.

“Even Sirius asked Remus,” Regulus added up. “You’re the only one valentineless.”

“I’m not valentineness, or whatever the fuck, I’m going to Hogsmeade with Evan.”

“Does he know that?” Regulus challenged.

“Of course he does,” Barty got defensive. “We always go together.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do.” Barty started pacing.

“Never hurts to make sure, though.” Dorcas pointed out.

She did make a good argument and it wasn’t like Barty was just waiting for an excuse to stop being stubborn and make sure his boyfriend hadn’t accepted anyone else’s invitation.

“You’re right.”

“I always am,” she bragged.

Barty rolled his eyes but didn’t wait to argue, he had things to do, his person to woo. He was almost out the door when Pandora interrupted him. “Wait, how are you asking him?”

“I’m coming up to him and doing it.” Obviously.

“Poor, Evan.” Regulus shook his head in solidarity.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It has to be special, Barty. You can’t just ask.” Dorcas spoke to him like he was a small child.

“Of course I can.”

“Then he might not accept.” Pandora pointed out.

“He has to. We’re dating.” Barty tried not to stomp his foot.

“Not if you don’t ask properly.”

“Oh, fuck off. You’re having me on.”

“Nope, you need to give him his favourite things too, make it big,” Regulus told him. 

“Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. How am I supposed to make him a big surprise?”

“We’ll help,” Dorcas reassured him.

“Yeah,” Pandora smiled sweetly. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Thanks, guys.” Barty was touched.

Not so much though when his friends convinced him to spell roses to fall on Evan once he entered the Common Room to be greeted by Barty holding his favourite French chocolate with floating words spelling ‘Will you be my Valentine?’

As if he didn’t feel stupid enough, Evan’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw him. “Oh, that’s today?” he asked in confusion.

Barty froze. His so-called friends laughed. And he promised revenge in the near future. He knew they had to have been making fun of him, but the fear of not having Evan by his side had won out in the end. That was what he got for believing them.

"Tomorrow," Barty corrected. "You're going to Hogsmeade with me."

It wasn't a question.

Evan frowned. "Who else would I go with?"

Barty was going to kill Pandora. And Regulus and Dorcas for good measure.

But then Evan kissed him. Anything but his lips was forgotten.

[shaunamilfman]

if i could be who you wanted

pairing: Shauna Shipman x f!reader (and the memory of Jackie) summary: You're Melissa. iykyk note: Minors DNI. mentions of blood, cannibalism.

You duck behind a bush the second you hear the sticks cracking beneath Shauna's feet, a bolt of fear shooting up your spine. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

God, Shauna would kill you if she found you out here. And you would deserve it for being so stupid.

You hadn't meant to follow her out here–well, that wasn't exactly true. You had meant to follow her, sure, but this was the last thing you had expected to find. It was sweet in a horribly depressing sort of way. It's not like you hadn't heard the way all the other girls talk about her around camp, the way they comment on her refusal to wear the dumb mask. She was grieving in her own way, and this was proof of it. 

So you'd watched her visit his grave, feeling like some pathetic stalker intruding in on one of the worst moments of her life. But it wasn't the first time that's happened, was it? Everything Shauna's gone through has been in front of everyone, leaving the rest of you to watch like voyeurs as Shauna found Jackie's body. And again, as she lost her baby. 

Maybe you should have let her have this one thing to herself, but you couldn't stop yourself from leaving the flower on his grave. You just wanted Shauna to know that she wasn't alone, even though she kept pushing everybody away. Good thinking, really. She's lost her best friend and her baby, but she has you: random JV girl. 

You're not even sure she knows your name, even now. She'd pointed toward you and called you “that one” just last week. But it was fine. Shauna had a lot going on. Especially with her growing feud with Mari. She had actually looked at you then and seemingly saw you for the first time when you had shit-talked Mari to her. If you knew that was all it would take, you would’ve done it ages ago. It’s not like you haven’t been doing it behind Mari’s back for months.

Your hands start to shake as Shauna pulls the knife out. Pressing your hands into your thighs in an attempt to stop it only results in you finally putting enough pressure on the stick you were kneeling on to crack beneath your weight.

Fuck.

Shauna whirls around, staring intensely in your direction as she holds the knife out to her side. You know what she’s done with that knife, what you wish she would do to you. You don’t dare move, hoping that maybe Shauna won’t see you that way. Like in Jurassic Park. As long as you just stay still and make no noise, maybe you can get out of here alive.

You’re honestly terrified, and it’s not unwarranted. She was known to fly off the handle at the best of times, and here you were leaving flowers on her dead son’s grave in the middle of the woods with no one around to hear you scream. In simple terms, you’re screwed.

“Get out here,” she calls out, stepping slowly forward as her eyes search the underbrush before coming to a stop as you stand up.

You approach her slowly, with your hands clearly visible at your sides. No sudden movements. The way she’s watching you goes beyond anger, beyond even rage. You can’t put your finger on it, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying to be on the receiving end of. It reminds you oddly of the stray dogs in your neighborhood, ribs visible beneath fur matted with grime, feral eyes focused entirely on you. It’s something in the way they bare their teeth and growl as you slowly inch away, like they’re just praying you turn your back to them so they have an excuse to lunge forward. 

Back then you were at least smart enough to leave. 

Now, you were moving towards the predator.

You smile weakly at Shauna, and she doesn’t even seem to notice. Every bit of her attention is focused on you for once, but now that you have it, you aren’t sure you know what to do with it. This was a lot, wasn’t it? It certainly felt like it. You’ve always heard that not all attention is good attention, but death glare or not, you were willing to take what you could get. You haven’t survived in the wilderness this long without taking what you could get and saying thank you for the scraps. 

“Hey,” you say slowly.

You keep walking forward even as Shauna starts stalking toward you. If looks could kill, she wouldn’t even need to make use of the knife in her hand. Your heartbeat skyrockets, beating so hard in your chest that you can barely hear the words that leave your lips as you speak them.

“I didn’t mean to follow you, or anything. I just–I couldn’t sleep, you know?” You force out a panicked laugh that sounds more like a wheeze than anything else. Were you sweating? It felt like you’re sweating. You’re sweating like a pig, aren't you? 

Focus.

“I just saw you leaving and I thought maybe I could look out for you.”

Shauna’s still quiet, damningly so as she looks at you. She doesn’t even blink. Just stares.

“Not that you need anyone to protect you, obviously.” You gesture vaguely in the direction of the knife at her side, but Shauna only grips it tighter. You were just digging the hole deeper at this point. 

“But with Coach out there and Mari missing…” You trail off as you realize your words seem to have absolutely no meaning to her.

“No one,” Shauna says, gliding forward with the effortless grace of a predator. She’s not a stray dog anymore, not shaky and desperate and feral. Now she looks like the killer she is. 

(The mother she is.)

“Has a right to my baby.”

Your eyes widen in fear as you take a step back, a distance that Shauna is quick to close. She doesn’t even seem to think as she moves forward. It’s not a calculated intimidation like you were used to. It just was.

“He’s my baby,” Shauna repeats.

“Oh,” you gasp, not entirely from fear. Mostly not from fear, though the feeling overwhelmed almost every one of your senses. Almost.

“No, it’s not–I wasn’t trying to…” You start helplessly. It takes everything you have in you not to start stuttering like an idiot in front of her. You weren’t doing much to help your case right now. A fact you’re reminded of as Shauna’s eyes feel like they’re drilling holes into your skull. One wrong move and you’d end up like Mari with a face full of dirt, but no one around to pull Shauna off of you.

“You’re right,” you say earnestly. Shauna hesitates for a moment, her feet stilling as she watches you. It’s almost scarier now that she’s staying in place, like her muscles are just coiling up and waiting to strike. 

“I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened to you. It’s not fair–not that anything has been since…” You don’t even have to say the words. Still, the words the crash hang between you just as heavily. It hung between all of you, a constant reminder of everything you’ve lost and still have to lose since boarding that plane to nationals. 

“But you just keep moving forward,” you continue. “And I really admire that.”

Shauna softens slightly, but not much. Not enough that you aren’t sure she isn’t still planning to gut you. You aren’t even sure if she knows. Shauna moves so impulsively at times that it seems to be as much of a surprise to her as it is to everyone else, like she’s halfway through the action before she even notices and has to commit to seeing it through.

“I just–”

She lunges forward, the knife away from her side and pressing against your neck before you even take another breath. Your back slams into the tree, scratching painfully against the bark beneath your skin. It hurts. But as Shauna looms over you–even though she’s looking up at you– you quickly realize how much you like it. How could you not when she looks at you with brown eyes so wild and dark and so, so close?

“If you tell anybody about this, I will fucking kill you,” Shauna says, a raw anger to her words that sends chills through your body in more ways than one. “I will kill you, and I will gut your little fucking–”

What she was going to gut will have to remain a mystery. Because before she can finish the thought, the snarled threat cuts off as you lunge forward–as much as you can with the blade of her prized knife held so closely to your throat–to kiss her. You keep your eyes open just long enough to watch hers close as your lips connect, a moment of surprise on her face before it’s gone in a flash and she’s pulling away.

The knife is held looser in her hands now, tilted up to point to your chin instead of pressed so threateningly against your throat. She’s watching you closely, her mind whirring as she scrutinizes every inch of your expression. You can practically hear her mind working, and you hope desperately that she’s decided she wants to kiss you again more than she wants to hurt you for what you did. 

It’s so quiet, not a single sign of the wildlife around you.

Just the two of you panting together inches apart.

She presses forward, closing the distance as she all but slams your lips together. Both of her hands are wrapped around her knife, holding it steady even as yours fall to her hips and pull them desperately into yours. Shauna doesn’t need to be told twice, keeping you up against that tree and exactly where she wants you as she moves her hips against yours.

Shauna has the knife and unlimited power to do whatever the hell she wants out here so far from everybody else. Somehow it’s the safest you’ve felt in months.

She kisses you like she wants to devour you, which probably is a thought in the back of her mind. The only thoughts left in yours are holy shit and please. Shauna is everywhere you are, not allowing your lips to get a moment of peace as she chases each and every twitch of your jaw. You think she’d probably still kiss you on the way down if you passed out from the desperate screaming of your lungs, and the thought isn’t as unwelcome as it once might have been.

Your mouths separate just long enough for the two of you to suck in one desperate breath apiece before she’s on you again. As confused as Shauna looked the first time she pulled away, she sure seemed to get the hang of kissing a girl rather quickly. It makes you wonder if she and–

She yanks you away from the tree with one hand fisted in either side of the collar of your shirt, the knife still held in one hand. You have to turn your head to the side to avoid her cutting your jaw, leaving you unaware of the shove before it comes. It sends you stumbling back, your ankle catching painfully on an upturned root as it takes your legs out from under you far more effectively than Shauna could have done on her own.

Your back hits the ground with a loud wheeze, the sound of all the air in your lungs making a quick exit. Shauna follows you down onto her knees, one leg swinging over your hips as she settles down heavily on the base of your stomach while you’re still trying to find air left to breathe.

“Shauna,” you gasp, staring wide-eyed up at her. 

She tilts her head to the side in consideration before leaning down to attach her lips to yours once again. You’re not sure it's because she still wants to kiss you as much as she wants you not to protest.

You can feel a rock digging into your back, only made worse by the way Shauna rests more of her weight on your shoulder as she leans forward, but you might still kiss Shauna even if she started biting chunks of flesh away. A rock was nothing in comparison.

Shauna’s hand was still wrapped around the knife. She wasn’t using it to threaten you anymore, was barely even aiming it in your direction, but the handle of it digs into your ribs as she holds it between the two of you. With each messy roll of her hips against your stomach, she runs the risk of cutting herself on the edge of it, which you think must be part of the thrill of it for her. The thought of the sounds that would leave Shauna’s lips if she caught the edge of her skin made you kiss her harder, almost desperate to watch her shirt turn red with it.

You’re so caught up in that thought that you almost don’t notice her fingers loosening around the hilt until she finally arches her back enough to sit it vaguely off to the side in favor of threading her fingers through your hair. 

The sudden absence of the knife is almost enough to pull you out of it. 

“What?” You question dumbly.

“Shut up, Jax,” she mutters, freezing the moment her brain makes the connection. Shauna looks afraid for the briefest of moments as she looks down at you. Not afraid of you or the situation. Afraid of what letting the name slip from her lips means for her. Fear quickly turns into a murderous glare. Like it was somehow your fault she said it, like you had torn it from her lips like your teeth tore flesh away from Jackie.

It takes a moment for you to realize the significance of it, far too focused on the feeling of her rubbing herself against your stomach to listen to the words coming out of her mouth. You could adapt. You’ve done a lot of that lately.

“Oh…” you say quietly, “Oh–okay.”

You lick your lips, trying to speak even as dry as your throat feels. “Okay, Shippy?” You try. 

That wasn’t it.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” She hisses, fingers flexing like she’s already missing her knife.

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “I didn’t mean to–”

“I don’t care,” she interrupts, speaking right over you. “Just shut up.” 

You nod quickly. She grabs your chin roughly, holding your gaze captive as she forces you to meet her eyes. Whatever she finds there seems to satisfy her, because she lets go with a scoff as she rolls her eyes.

“That’s good,” she says condescendingly, tapping your cheek lightly with her fingers. “You’re good at doing what you’re told, huh?”

You flush with embarrassment, eyes drifting away as you struggle to find something to say back to that. As it turns out, you don’t have to. Not as Shauna pulls the button through her shorts, slowly dragging the zipper down as you watch. She’s holding you still with the weight of your anticipation, and she’s more than enjoying the power it gives her over you as she moves away just enough to pull her shorts and her panties out of the way in one rough pull.

“I want your mouth,” Shauna says. 

It isn’t a question, but you nod anyway. She smirks, and that’s all she needs to start moving. One thigh and then the next settling on either side of your head. Your fingers tremble with hesitancy as you slowly reach out to grip her thighs, but Shauna either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as her hand reaches out to grab your hair.

Shauna holds herself just out of reach, tantalizingly wet and just aching for your tongue. The muscles in her thighs strain from the effort, but that doesn’t register for Shauna. You feel your mouth water, leaning forward only for her to yank you back by your hair. The pained gasp you let out has an obvious effect on Shauna, her grip tightening as her cunt visibly twitches. It’s only when you give up and send her a pleading look that she finally lowers herself within reach of your mouth.

She cries out in shock at how quickly you are to take her into your mouth, your curious tongue running through her as her free hand shoots out to rest on the forest floor to balance herself.

“Oh, fuck,” she mutters, which goes straight through you.

You pull her closer by your grip on her thighs, figuring she wouldn’t get mad at you for it now that she’s let you get your mouth on her. It was a fair guess, not even a thought of protest leaving Shauna’s lips as you bury yourself in her.

She grinds down against your face, smearing her arousal up and down your chin and your cheeks. The ends of her flannel brush against your skin as she moves, her head tilted back to look at the tops of the trees as she bites at her lip to keep herself nice and quiet. Shauna doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing her moan.

But you can feel it in the way she holds herself, in the way she chases your tongue like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. Shauna can play games all she likes, but her satisfaction is undeniable as you flick your tongue across her clit. She whines, a choked sound that’s punished with the nails of one hand digging into your arm. You can feel blood slowly making its way down your arm, but you pay it no mind.

It’s almost like she can sense how cocky that reaction has made you, rising up on her knees and out of reach. You try to chase her again, because you never learn, to meet with no success once again.

“Nuh-uh,” she says mockingly, lightly–as far as Shauna is concerned–slapping your cheek. “I'll decide when you get to taste.”

Shauna hovers out of reach, reaching down to rub her thumb across the streaks of wetness on your cheeks. She brings it to your lips, looking pleased when you suck the tip of her thumb into your mouth. There’s something like delight in her eyes as she presses her thumb down against your tongue, holding it in place at the bottom of your mouth to feel the slick warmth of it before pulling her hand away again.

Is she seriously going to make you beg to get her off? You take one long look at Shauna, pulling lightly at her thighs.

“Please? Please, Shauna.”

You strain against her grip, anything to get her back into your mouth. You’re beyond pride. Making yourself look as pathetic as possible has worked for you so far, and it works again as Shauna lowers herself down to start riding your tongue. 

She doesn’t even take a moment to get back into it, slipping back in place like she never left. You couldn’t care, not when she’s taking exactly what she wants from you. This is what you’ve wanted from her for months, and now it’s finally yours.

You can just barely make out the sounds of her chanting a name under her breath, over and over like a prayer. “Jackie, Jackie, Jackie, Jackie.”

It should sting, and part of it does, but you can live with having Jackie’s seconds. God knows it wasn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you out here. Besides, Jackie wasn’t the one beneath her right now. Wasn’t the one whose face she was riding. She may be imagining it was Jackie, but you’re still the one with your mouth on her.

You grip her thighs firmly, holding her in place as they start to quiver on either side of your head.

Shauna comes with a muffled grunt, biting at her hand to keep herself from calling out. She doesn’t want to come, doesn’t want her body to betray her in the way it so obviously is, but she can’t help herself. She’s so quiet you almost wouldn’t have noticed if not for the way her hips buck as she soaks your face.

Her hips slowly still as she rides out the last of it, panting quietly as her hands rest on either side of your head to hold herself up. After a moment, almost reluctantly, she swings one leg back over the other side of your head as she stumbles to her feet on unsteady legs. Shauna wipes the hand she’d rubbed across your face on her shirt, trying to get rid of the last evidence of your dalliance.

It would’ve been a smart idea if not for the way she covers the lower half of your face and smears the inside of her thighs. Shauna stares down at you as she picks the knife back up, twirling it idly in her hand before sighing.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she says. There’s no bite to it, no real sting. She’s speaking the truth as plainly as she can manage it.

“Yeah, probably,” you agree.

Shauna laughs gruffly as she pulls her clothes back on. She sends you back sprawling into the dirt with a well-placed hand on your forehead as you start to sit forward, grinning at the shocked huff you make.

“Don’t follow me next time,” she warns.

You should say okay, which would be the acceptable thing to do. It’s clearly what she’s expecting you to say.

“What if I do?”

Shauna hesitates. “Find out.”

She walks away, leaving you dazed on the forest floor.

[libellule-ao3]

Rosa Incarcerem

A bewitched rose, an unbearable closeness… and only one way out.

Credit: Thank you to @raraaf6 for accepting me as a client 🙏& for so kindly agreeing to wait almost a month before publishing this GORGEOUS artwork.😍😍😍😍💖✨️ (I was afraid they would be overwhelmed with work for Valentine's Day, so I planned ahead😅)

OS | M | Ominis Gaunt X OFC | Evinis | 1 780 words

Tags: Forced proximity | Sexual Tension | Ominis needs help | Valentine’s Day chaos | Trapped together trope | Not explicit but definitely suggestive😉

Hogwarts is buzzing with the romantic excitement of Valentine’s Day, but Ominis is hoping for an uneventful day. That is without counting Evelyne, whom he is escorting to the kitchens for her detention, his wand pointed in front of them.  

Professor Sharp caught her pointing out the worrying colour change in the potion he was making. 

“It’s not cheating, but an active contribution to the principle of fairness,” she mumbled in that strange combination of shyness and honesty that is so characteristic of her.  

Of course, Sharp doesn’t appreciate the repartee: in his opinion, Ominis, blind or not, has to fend for himself. And although he values his own autonomy – much more than any teacher – he regrets that his friend, usually so discreet and reserved, is being punished for a few unwelcome words.  

Ominis has known for a long time that she has a tendency to show her fangs when she feels cornered. But since last Christmas, she has been showing it all the time. And what’s worse, she refuses to admit it.  

As they reach the stairs leading to the kitchens, a female voice behind them calls out, honeyed and overconfident.  

“Ominis!”

He turns around. Evelyne, unwilling to be noticed by the newcomer, melts into his shadow. She too recognised this tone, this false lightness that could only belong to Callista Malfoy.  

Since last summer, the witch has been showering him with perfumed, honeyed, and calculated invitations. His own parents covet the large dowry she will offer her future husband, and she herself sees him as a good match — honourable, manipulable, and much less dangerous than his brother. Ominis has no doubt she would be prepared to snare him in a scandal to force him to marry her. As a result, he avoids her, like dragon pox.  

“I have tried so hard to be pleasant to you, Ominis, and yet... you continue to avoid me.”

He remains silent. She gives a falsely resigned sigh.  

“Perhaps this little gift will convince you of my sincerity?”

He instinctively reaches for the flower she presents to him. A shiver runs up his spine. Fleeting. Unusual. An imperceptible magical vibration, like a warning.  

“Don’t touch that flower!” 

His friend’s cry splits the air at the same time as she strikes the rose with the back of her hand. But it was too late.  

The magic explodes. A tendril of thorns and bewitched flowers wraps around them, clinging voraciously to their clothes. For a moment, she gasps for air. In the blink of an eye, he finds himself thrown against the young woman, his body crushed against hers, his arms reflexively closing around her.  

A strange silence falls. The time for a breath.  

Then —  

A click of the tongue.  

“Oh.”

One word dropped in a bored, almost jaded breath. Ominis can’t see Malfoy, but the pulsing of his wand traces the outline of her motionless figure. He knows she is fuming. She wanted to trap him... but not with Evelyne, apparently.  

The tension in the air twists, becoming heavier. Callista Malfoy inhales slowly.  

“What bad luck...”

The intonation is too controlled, almost amused.  

“I wonder what Marvolo would think of that.”

She lets the threat hang between them, then turns on her heels, her feigned indifference almost erasing her presence. Ominis hears the rustle of her robe, the measured rhythm of her heels on the stone, then nothing.  He exhales a sigh.  

“Are you all right?”

She's there, pressed against him. Her body against his, every line printed against him.  

And her smell, Merlin...  

A shiver goes through him. The warmth of her body, the scandalous yielding of her curves... He feels himself blush.  

She raises her head. Her breath brushes his throat, and beneath her palms, his heart beats wildly.  

“I'm sorry...” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mixture of guilt and emotion. “I... I wanted to spare you this, but it went too fast...”

He clenches his jaw, consumed by the fire spreading through him.  

“It’s a Rosa Incarcerem.”

The evidence slaps him in the face. These bewitched roses are very popular this year. Almost undetectable, they enchant anyone who touches them together, forcing them to kiss to break the enchantment that binds them together.  

He lets out a hiss of frustration.  

“Well done. Really.”

He would have preferred anyone else. Even Malfoy, despite her shenanigans. At least she wouldn’t have affected him like that, and he would have remained indifferent. 

With Evelyne, the trap is far more vicious.  

He tries to free himself, by force, then with a counter-spell, but the plant vice strengthens its grip.  

“Wait... is that Gaunt?!” exclaims a student nearby.  

An excited murmur runs through the corridor, a cruel reminder that they are making a spectacle of themselves in a busy place.  

Ominis’s fingers clench his wand, and he whispers an incantation. The magic flows over him like an icy wave, covering him in a veil of invisibility. He barely notices his classmate’s slight start, her breathing suspended for a fraction of a second before she understands his intentions.  

The surrounding murmurs intensify, but at least no one can see them any longer. No one’s about to break that spell anytime soon!  

Their bodies are trapped, welded together by an implacable force that strangles him to the same degree that it inflames him. 

He feels everything. The outrageous softness of her chest crushed against his, the searing heat of her belly against his, and below that... a torment he would give anything to ignore.

His breath catches when Evelyne tries to pull away, pushing his chest away.

A fatal mistake.

Her movement fans a insidious fire deep in his core. Rigid from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, he endures the wave of pleasure coursing through him.

Ominis is tense.

Shamefully tense.

“By Merlin’s beard, Evelyne... stop moving,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” she croaks, in a high-pitched voice that leaves no doubt she grasps his state of arousal.

Let’s hope she doesn’t make a comment that would add to his mortification, like last time!

She is shaking now, tensing up in a desperate effort not to move, not to let that vice of flowers and thorns press her further against him. But it’s no use.

The spell weighs relentlessly down on them. And he... He has never known such humiliation.

His own body betrays him obscenely, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Damn this uncontrollable desire!

This time, he can’t pretend it’s a casual masculine greeting at dawn, a physiological reaction that has no context whatsoever.

Now he has to admit that it’s because of her. Because he is incapable of ignoring the caress of her erratic breathing, the scent of "geranium rosat" enveloping him, the firmness of her breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers clutching his robe, and her damn hips that kiss his so perfectly.

For Merlin’s love, let him be anaesthetised or stunned!

“You, the plant expert... Say you can do something about this.”

“If it were just the intrinsic magic of the rose, I probably could. But here... it’s an artificial curse, woven with too many protections for me to break it.”

Alas, that’s what he thought... Those who created this knew what they were doing.

“Ominis, er, I... I don’t know if you have ever kissed anyone, but if it’s your first kiss, I want you to know that I’m sorry for ruining it.”

He closes his eyes, as if that will ease the tension pulsing inside him. His throat tightens. He feels the weight of the confession before it even passes his lips.

“It’s not my first kiss.”

The silence fills with silent questions.

“Anne...”

His voice is hoarse, almost strangled. He doesn’t enjoy talking about this. His free hand clenches despite himself on Evelyne’s hip, like an unconscious anchor.

“She asked me when... when hope of recovery abandoned her.”

He doesn’t need to say any more. At the time, Sebastian’s sister wanted to find out what she might never know. And he was the only one she could ask.

“Even if it wasn't ideal... at least it made sense,” says Evelyne. “No one should have their first kiss stolen by such an absurd enchantment.”

From Ominis Gaunt’s point of view, no one should have their second one stolen that way either. And yet, he is beginning to seriously consider it. It’s better than this awkward embrace where the slightest movement puts him through the wringer.

Evelyne seems to come to a similar conclusion as she starts a movement.

“So, let’s try not to make a big deal out of it and just do it... Alright?”

Then her fingers slide down his torso to the nape of his neck. A light touch at first, almost innocent, before she fully buries her fingers in his hair at the base of his skull.

She wants to guide him, but doesn’t dare.

A searing heat pulses under this caress and descends directly into his crotch, electrifying every nerve in its path.

He tenses even more under the contact. Evelyne must feel it, because she suspends her movements for a second before abruptly withdrawing her hand, as if she has been burned.

Ominis holds his breath. Every nerve, every inch of his skin, is crying out for that all-too-brief touch. The absence consumes him almost as much as the closeness.

Every second stretches out a silent torment, a space suspended between desire and the forbidden.

At last, Evelyne tiptoes up cautiously, as if dreading the moment as much as she desires it.

Her breath, uneven and shallow, grazes his face, a sigh escaping against his mouth, and he fights the raw impulse to close the unbearable distance before the kiss falls.

First a gentle touch. Then the soft pressure of her hesitant lips.

The blood boils in his veins. His heart races. His fingers instinctively find their bearings on her curves. A need. To hold her despite himself. For a second, Ominis thinks about giving in to the temptation to go deeper. To demand. To claim.

But he doesn't have the right and, in any case, Evelyne is already moving away.

The curse bursts out in a magical blast, freeing them as suddenly as it had chained them.

She stammers out a confused apology, almost stumbles backwards.

“I, er... I’m going to be late for my detention, er, sorry,”

Then she disappears faster than a snake into the tall grass. Ominis opens his mouth. No words come out. Emptiness replaces her warmth.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

He exhales slowly, forcing his body to let go.

His trembling fingers brush his lips, where the echo of the kiss lingers, where Evelyne had pressed herself too deliciously against him, igniting a violent, unrelenting shiver.

A cruel truths hit him: he's doomed.

A/N: This OS takes place after chapter 5 of "Lullaby for Cursed Seeds". Although it can be read as standalone, it will be incorporated into chapter 6 with a few slight modifications. Thank you for reading. 💖

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 3

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: kissing, lots of kissing and sexual tension hehe

Word count: 4k

MASTERLIST

| PART 1 HERE | | PART 2 HERE |

Kyra’s legs felt like concrete and her brain was foggy as she watched Katie steal the ball from her—again. Kyra was tired and confused, and her exhaustion was reflected in her poor training today. She had lost possession of the ball to Katie at least 3 three times, and after the third time, Katie even stopped teasing her about it. The fact that Katie even felt sorry for her spoke volumes about how awful she was today.

When she failed to do well in the last drill, Renée had—gently—asked her to step that one out. Kyra hadn’t wanted to at first, but Renée hadn’t asked her to either, so she went to the bench and sat on the stiff surface, watching her teammates actually show why they were on the field, and she wasn’t.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Alessia said handing her a protein bar. Kyra did not even see her approaching, highlighting how absent-minded she was.

“No,” Kyra mumbled, taking the snack, and fiddling with it at first before taking a small bite. Strawberry and white chocolate flavour, Kyra’s favourite. Maybe she wouldn’t be so depressed today after all. “Did you get kicked out of the pitch too? Is this the ‘prodigy-child-who-can’t-seem-to-kick-a-ball’ corner?”

“Well—no.” Alessia laughed. “Renée asked me to come here and see, in her own words, ‘what the fuck happened to Cooney’, so here I am.”

“Oh, so you don’t really want to talk to me, I’m just another chore in your busy day,” Kyra joked, biting back her laugh as Alessia nudged her slightly with her shoulder.

“You’re being dramatic,” Alessia stated, accepting the half-eaten protein bar Kyra handed back to her.

Alessia finished the protein bar while she waited for Kyra to formulate whatever she was thinking. After a few moments, she finally spoke.

“I’m so confused. And when I’m confused, I get completely worn out from the among of neurons I’m using,” Kyra confessed suddenly.  “I don’t like when things are… I don’t know. Blurry, maybe?”

Alessia listened carefully with narrowed eyes, chin resting on her hand. “But what are you confused about, what’s blurry?” Alessia questioned, not really understanding what the girl was talking about.

Kyra’s cheek flushed. “Y/n has been acting weird lately, I’m not sure why.”

“What do you mean weird? Last time I spoke to her she sounded fine, happier even,” Alessia tilted her head.

“Maybe weird isn’t the right word—” Kyra continued with her mumbling. “She’s acting different, not in a bad way, though.”

“In what way then?” Alessia asked, pressing further.

“She’s being very nice to me,” Kyra blurted out. “Not that she wasn’t before, of course she was always very kind, but now it’s…”

“Different?” Alessia complete easily, given Kyra’s difficult relationship with, well, words today. “She’s being nicer to you, and that’s making you feel confused?”

“Exactly!” Kyra said, throwing her hands up in the air.

Alessia laughed quietly. “All right, tell me about it, let’s dissect it,” Alessia said, fake-serious tone that made Kyra roll her eyes.

“I’m serious, Less!” Kyra groaned,

“I’m too! Go on, I’m all ears,” Alessia encouraged.

So, Kyra told what had happened last night.

Y/n had begged Kyra to put a mattress in her living room. “It’ll be like when we used to have girl’s night!” Y/n had said cheerfully as she sat on the couch. Kyra didn’t match Y/n’s energy. It was late, and Y/n mattress was surprisingly heavy.

“We could keep having girl’s night in your room,” Kyra complained, finally letting the mattress hit the floor. The Australian let out a sigh of relief as her hand went to her shoulder and pressed against the skin.

“Just so you know I am not carrying this upstairs again,” Kyra pointed at the mattress as if it were a sentient being responsible for its weight.

“Too heavy?” Y/n smiled, spreading her legs and motioning for Kyra to sit in between them on the floor.

Kyra obeyed, though not without some complaining. “Yeah, I don’t know what it’s made of.  Aren’t mattresses supposed to be made of goose feathers or some shit?”

Y/n squeezed the spot on Kyra’s shoulder she was complaining about, her hands touching the rough texture of Kyra’s Matilda's hoodie.

“Wow, there, right there,” Kyra whispered as Y/n touched the spot more firmly.

“I think mattress are supposed to have a fair amount of foam, spring, polyurethane—” Y/n explained.

“You’re just making up words,” Kyra muttered, leaning into Y/n’s touches.

“Unfortunately, they’re real words that make up real mattress materials,”

“How do you even know that?” Kyra turned, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at Y/n.

“I read it in an article n the newspaper,” Y/n mumbled, tapping Kyra’s head. “And turn around, I’m trying to give you a massage.”

“Newspaper? How old are you? 99?” Kyra whined as Y/n pressed her acromion. “Ouch, don’t be so rough!”

“Sorry! It would be easier if you weren’t wearing this bulky hoodie, I can’t even feel where I’m touching.” Y/n bickered. “Plus, the colors on it aren’t even that good.”

“Those are literally the national colours of my country!” Kyra argued, rolling her eyes as she watched the smug smile on Y/n’s face. “Ok, you’re messing with me,” Kyra concluded.

“Just a little, you’ve been too tense lately, and normally you’re very relaxed.” Y/n said. “I’m just trying to do something nice for you.”

“Yeah, maybe if the derby wasn’t so close I could feel happiness and, you know, live life, but we can’t have everything we wish for.” Kyra said in a fake-sad-voice.

Y/n’s hand fell from Kyra’ shoulder as Kyra pulled out the hoodie in a sweeping motion and threw it casually on the love seat by the window. The other girl was wearing a black sport’s bra underneath the hoodie.

Y/n froze, hands in the mid-air. She hasn’t expecting to see Kyra’s very strong back today. Kyra’s trapezius and deltoid muscles were very defined, Kyra looked tough, but also soft. The dichotomy of it making was making y/n breath out loud.

Kyra turned back to Y/n again, confusion on her face. “Don’t you want to do it anymore?” She asked the girl.

“Do what?” Y/n swallowed, trying not to look at the skin on Kyra’s back, focusing instead on Kyra’s eyes. Eyes were safe. Eyes didn’t make Y/n feel hot in places she shouldn’t feel hot at the moment.

“—The massage? You said if I didn’t wear the..”

“Oh yeah, yeah, of course!” Y/n rumbled. “Sorry,” she whispered as she placed her thumb, forefinger and middle finger on Kyra’s skin, gently pressing the sore spots.

“You’re tense,” Y/n told Kyra, “Especially here…” Y/n placed her fingers on the back of Kyra’s neck.” Y/n applied more pressure, until she felt Kyra’s muscle relax. “Feels good, now?” Y/n asked, continuing to work with her fingers.

“Yeah, it feels great really,” Kyra replied, enjoying Y/n’s hand on her. Maybe Kyra was in a dry spell for months, or maybe Y/n’s finger were really out of this world.

Kyra shivered slightly as Y/n nails scratched gently through her neck. Kyra had to hold back a moan to keep her dignity.

The realisation hit Kyra like a cold winter breeze, she was wearing a sports bra and being massaged—in the most delicious way—by a very pretty girl, who also happened to be her friend.

And now she was supposed to suck it up and share a mattress with said friend because said friend didn’t want to sleep in her room alone anymore. ‘It’s too lonely, it makes me sad’ Y/n had said.

Kyra was hyperventilating slightly. She wasn’t sure if Y/n could notice it.

Y/n moved her leg—the good one—more to the left and touched Kyra’s arm. It was such an innocent touch, but it made Kyra feet like a teenager all over again. Kyra began squirming in her spot, her palms clammy. It was seriously humiliating to feel this hot and bothered by a fucking touch on the arm.

Y/n’s fingers were quicker now, going from the middle of her back to her neck.

Kyra had been with girls before. She knew how to flirt, how to tease, where to touch. She wasn’t inexperienced or innocent on that matter. But the way Y/n was making Kyra’s body shiver just barely felt almost overwhelming—in a good, but scary way.

“Why do you seem more tense than when we started?” Y/n asked, interrupting Kyra’s inner monologue.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m …you just overwhelmed me with your flawless technique!” Kyra said, trying to sound teasing, but failing.

“Oh well, thank you,” Y/n said smiling, but still tilting her head slightly, as if she did not believe Kyra’s word. “I’m trying to find new hobbies, like you said.”

“You should stick with it. Your fingers feel amazing,” Kyra breathed, and then stopped. Her eyes went wide as what she had just said sank in.

“My fingers are that good, huh” Y/n said smugly, enjoying seeing Kyra squirm a little.

“You’re making it dirty,” Kyra said sheepishly.

Y/n laughed and watched as Kyra stood up. “You made it dirty first! Come on, telling a fellow lesbian her fingers feel good?”

“I just really like massages,” Kyra tried to recover from the awkwardness, her hoodie now on. “And it seems like you really liked making me squirm, so I think we’re both even.”

“Oh, okay, you turned that around quickly, I’ll give you that” Yn said, a little taken back, cheeks warm.”

“Flirting.” Alessia stated. “She was flirting with you! And you flirted back.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You just told me how you flirted with each other!” Alessia said enthusiastically, looking like a happy puppy.

“We weren’t flirting! We were teasing each other, we always do that,” Kyra argued, pointing at Alessia and then at herself. “We always do that.”

“We? Ky when was the last time I made a dirty joke on you?” Alessia questioned, crossing her arms.

“Never!” Alessia said without letting Kyra answer it. “And Y/n never teased me like that either.”

“I’m so sorry Ky but I can’t see where your confusion is coming from, it” Alessia got up, standing in front of Kyra, looking down at her. “It looks to me like you two have a little crush on each other?”

“A crush?” Kyra whined. “We aren’t seven!”

“Well, right now you’re acting like a seven-year-old who can’t see what’s happening right in front of her,” Alessias lectured softly. “What did you guys do after the massage? Please spare me any intimate details, though.”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “Nothing happened, we just got ready for bed and slept.”

“In the same mattress, right?” Alessia asked.

“…Yeah”

“I’m sorry baby, but you can’t be this naïve,” Alessia said softly, looking at Kyra as if she were a innocent child learning how the world works for the first time.

“What happened after the two of you woke up?” Alessia asked.

Kyra blushed as she remembered the position she was when she opened her eyes in the morning. Y/n couldn’t move much because of her cast, but Kyra was a very fussy sleeper and had changed positions during her sleep.

When Kyra’s alarm clock went off, she wasn’t only greeted by the usual and annoying noise, but also by Y/n’s breathing. Kyra had snuggled up to Y/n’s body for some reason. Her head on Y/n’s shoulder as the girl breathed softly into her ear.

“Don’t go,” Y/n said half asleep when Kyra tried to get up.

Kyra blushed, enjoying the way Y/n pulled at her shirt lazily.

“I have to get up and make us breakfast,” Kyra explained, taking Y/n’s hands from off her shirt. “And you have your first physical therapy session today, so we can’t be late.”

“5 more minutes? Please?” Y/n murmured

Kyra sighed, allowing Y/n to lie back on her chest. “Okay, but just 5 minutes.”

“Uhum okay,” Y/n mumbled, falling back asleep.

“Nothing much,” Kyra said, back to Alessia. “We just, I don’t know, cuddled?”

“You cuddled?” Alessias asked slowly.

“Yeah.”

“You are Y/n seemed to be in a pretty domestic bliss right now,” the blonde bent down to tie her boots. “Maybe the whole moving in together had made you realise that you have this chemistry going on?”

Kyra thought for a moment.

“I guess so? I’m not sure about chemistry, though,” she admitted. “I’m not even sure Y/n feels the same way I do.”

Kyra felt pathetic, really. Sure, perhaps she had feelings for her friends—and her roommate—but that didn’t mean that Y/n liked her back. There was always the possibility that Y/n was just lonely, and Kyra just happened to be there.

“I don’t think she’d give you a massage or cuddle up with you if she’s still saw you as just her friend,” Alessia pointed out. “Y/n isn’t the type to play hard to get—she’s very straightforward about how she feels.”

Alessia was right. Whenever the three girls went out to a bar or club, Y/n never played games with the women she wanted to take home. She was direct and confident.

“I guess I just don’t see her liking…me?” Kyra confessed, looking down. “I’m not going into a spiral of self-loathing or anything—I know I’m pretty and funny,” She half-joked.

“But Y/n’s also dealing with a lot right now. She’s focused on her recovery, getting better, starting physio… I don’t think she’s even aware of whatever this is,” Kyra added.

“Y/n’s recovering from a really bad injury, but she’s still Y/n,” Alessia countered, eyebrows furrowed. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders—I don’t think she’d be so oblivious about this whole situation.”

Before Kyra could respond, their conversation was cut short. Renée had called both players back to the pitch.

“I hope you got your mind off whatever was bothering you,” the coach said as she patted Kyra on the back.

Kyra thought of Y/n’s face.

“Yeah, I’m back now. Sorry,” Kyra said, slipping her practice vast on and jogging onto the field.

Hours later, the training was over, and Kyra was on her way to pick up Y/n from the physiotherapy clinic. Kyra parked in front of the white building, spotting Y/n already waiting with a smile on her face

“Hi, how was it?” Kyra asked as she stepped out of the car, opening the passenger door and helping Y/n inside.

“It was very good, actually,” Y/n said happily, handing Kyra her crutches so she could put them in the back seat. “Dr. Marta says my leg’s looking great and that haven’t lost too much muscle mass, so I won’t have too much trouble when we start doing the heavier exercises.”

“That’s great!” Kyra said, looking in between Y/n and the road as she drove away. “Has Dr. Marta said when you’ll be cleared to do the physio back at Arsenal?”

Y/n turned on the radio and Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan filled the car. “Yeah, she said I could go in two weeks. She just wants to make sure my ligaments are strong enough first.”

Kyra put a hand on Y/n’s leg—the good one—and gave it a light squeeze. “Well, I bet your ligaments are already better than mine.”

Y/n stared at Kyra’s hand, enjoying the subtle touch.

Kyra noticed the silence realised where her hand was. “Sorry,” she mumbled, quickly pulling it back and placing both hands on the wheel.

“its’s okay,” Y/n said, taking Kyra’s hand and putting it back on her leg. “Your hand is warm; my leg is cold. You can keep it there,” y/n said casually.

Kyra swallowed. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she just left her hand where it was.

“But now tell me about the training—how was it?” Y/n asked, shifting the conversation. “And I saw you guys had media day! I was so bummed I missed it…I love media days”

Kyra raised an eyebrow, her thumb now gently caressing her skin now. Not a big deal.

“No, you don’t.” Kyra huffed. “Last season, you pretended to have cramps, so you wouldn’t have to film a TikTok.”

“I said I love media day, I didn’t say I like making a fool of myself dancing,” Y/n shot back, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, come on, you’re a good dancer,”

“Yeah, at parties! I don’t do well when I’m the only one dancing and everyone around me is watching,”

“Well, when you come back all healed up, I’ll do a TikTok dance with you, so you don’t have to dance alone.”

“Given your dancing skills I think we’d both be better off hiding in the changing room,” Y/n teased.

Kyra stuck her tongue out at Y/n before they both burst laughing.

..

Y/n felt like a like a caged animal whenever she was around Kyra, which was often, considering they lived together. She tried, really tried to control herself and her impulses around Kyra, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable in any way.

But every time Kyra got a little too close, Y/n had to remind herself to breath, to think straight and not to let her gaze linger for too long.

Y/n wanted to kiss Kyra, really kiss her.

That was all she could think about when Kyra slipped a pillow under her leg without her being asked, or when she cut apples and handed them to Y/n before she even realised, she wanted a snack.

Maybe Y/n’s love language was acts of service—after all, why was she horny just because Kyra put socks on her feet?

It had been months since Y/n had kissed anyone, maybe a month or two months before her injury. She couldn’t quite remember it. So it was unnecessary to say that she was desperate.

Y/n though she had more grace, more control in her, but it all went out the drain the moment Kyra plopped herself on her side on the mattress, fresh from the shower. Her hair was still damp, and the shampoo she used filled the room with a vanilla fragrance.

Pretty, pretty girl.

Y/n felt as if her entire brain had ben short-circuited, as if her neuronal network had been designed to think about Kyra and only Kyra.

Both girls had gone out to a restaurant an hour earlier, it was the first time Y/n had seen all her teammates together since her injury. It was lovely to see all of them together after such long time.

The arsenal players stayed until late, but when Kyra and Y/n had gone home, Y/n suggested a movie night, which Kyra had agreed to—under one condition—she was the on picking the film.

‘But I’m a cheerleader’ was in the final ark already when Megan crashed the graduation party to be with Graham.

Y/n wouldn’t say it was the film itself that influenced her to take that step. It was more the subtle brush of Kyra’s arm against her own that did the trick.

“Hey, Kyra?” Y/n said, her confidence rising.

“Hmm?” Kyra mumbled, not taking her eyes off the TV.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Y/n confessed bluntly. She didn’t stutter or stumble in her words—she knew what she wanted, and she’d be very happy if Kyra wanted It too.

Kyra gasped slightly and finally looked into Y/n’s eyes. “What?”

It felt as if there was no air in her lungs, as if her stomach was turning against itself. Was she dreaming?

No, she wasn’t. She was sure this was real.

“Kiss you. I really want to,” Y/n explained calmly. “But it’s alright If you don’t want,” She added, looking intensely at Kyra.

“I-I want to kiss you,” Kyra said, a hint of question in her voice.

“Yeah? You sure?” Y/n asked, slightly teasing.

“Uhum,” Kyra nodded eagerly.

“Ok,” Y/n whispered before leaning in and carefully kissing Kyra.

Y/n cupped Kyra's jaw gently, controlling the depth of their kiss with gentle confidence. Kyra's tongue slipped shyly into Y/n's mouth. Their bodies fit together in the best possible way.

The kiss was better than they had ever imagined. Y/n had kissed many women before, but Kyra was definitely her best kiss yet. Kyra’s softness and her slight hesitation to just let go in the kiss made Y/n feel hot.

It was like their bodies wanted each other for a long time.

Kyra sighed into the kiss; Y/n welcomed her breath. The kiss was slow, and deliberate, not rushed in any way—like they were savouring something they’ve been waiting for a long time.

Kyra broke the kiss, but didn't pull away, instead touching her forehead and looking into Y/n’ eyes. “I liked it,” Kyra said shyly.

Y/n smiled. “Me too, a lot.” She bit Kyra’s lip gently. “Can I kiss you again?” 

“You can kiss me whenever you want”, Kyra said, taking Y/n's mouth back into her own.

The position their bodies were currently in was a little odd. Kyra was sitting up on the mattress, but leaning slightly on Y/n, while Y/n was lying with a pile of pillows on her back so she could sit up straighter and still be comfortable with her cast.

They kissed once, then stopped to catch their breath. And then they kissed some more. Kyra's elbow resting next to Y/n’s face while Kyra held her body over Y/n with her forearm.

“That was a very good kiss,” Kyra said, kissing Y/n's mouth, then her cheeks, then her nose. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she confessed.

"Yeah? Me too,” Y/n said, enjoying the feeling of Kyra’s lips on her face. “It was very hard not to kiss you before.”

“And I can see why, you're all flushed,” Kyra teased, now kissing the base of Y/n’s neck, sucking the skin gently, not enough to leave any mark.

“I’m not,” Y/n mumbled, very much appreciating what Kyra was doing.

“All for me” Kyra whispered, Y/n barely hearing it.

Unfortunately for Y/n, Kyra pulled away.

“No, come back,” Y/n whimpered, tugging at Kyra's oversized shirt, trying to bring her closer, but Kyra didn't give in. 

Kyra smiled softly, taking Y/n's cheeks in between her hands and puckering her lips. “It's almost two in the morning,” Kyra explained, getting out of bed. “You have to take your meds, and we need to go sleep.”

Kyra handed Y/n's prescription bottle, along a glass of water. Y/n took them, but not without making sure she was very disappointed at Kyra for ruining their snog session.

“Do you think I’m not mad at myself too?’ Kyra asked as she watched a pout form on Y/n’s face.

Kyra got back in bed and urged the girl to lay her head on her chest. “I’m having to be the responsible one! The ‘let's not move too fast’ one the ‘hey it's late and we should be sleeping.’”

Kyra continued with her rant while Y/n just enjoyed her voice and how soft her body was against her own. They weren’t kissing anymore, but they were cuddling. It was enough for Y/n.

Kyra’s fingers found themselves on Yn’s scalp massaging it.

“We really should be sleeping,” Y/n said. “I can’t barely keep my eyes closed.”

“I swear I could stay up late without a problem a few years ago,” Kyra said added.

Y/n patted Kyra's cheek patronisingly. “And that's because you're getting older, babe,” Y/n murmured.

“I don't like it.” 

“You'll get used to it.”

“You say it like you’re much older than me” Kyra said.

Y/n noticed her voice sounded more tired now.

“I am.” 

“Only 2 years.” 

“Enough to have a fully developed brain.”

Y/n waited for Kyra's familiar teasing remarks, but they didn't come. She was already fast asleep. And so was Y/n a few moments later.

..

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader!

[lydiasfalling]

SWEET CREATURE !

percy jackson x aphrodite! reader

➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!

˗ˋˏ warnings : use of y/n, nothing else really ˎˊ-

‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧

happy valentine’s day everyone! hope you guys enjoy this. could possibly make this a series if it’s liked enough. love ya!!!

walking around camp half blood at this time of year seemed to mock you. the fellow aphrodite’s kids seemed to be focused on finding a valentine. now, dot get it twisted. you wanted a valentine. bad. the only problem with this was, well, your intense and completely obvious crush on percy jackson. something about his confidence and charismatic aura drew you in and ruined you for anyone and everyone else.

there was another problem with this. percy jackson happened to be your best friend. you had tried everything to get these feelings to go away. dating other camp members, having different flings, setting percy up with other people, and tartarus, you even had people give you love potions. nothing worked. it was getting unbearable for everyone surrounding the two of you. in particular, annabeth and grover seemed the most annoyed.

the pair had also tried to help you guys understand how perfect you two would be together. however, you and him both refused any sort of insinuation of romance. it’s not that you didn’t want to be with him. quite the opposite, actually. you just didn’t see the point of wasting your friendship by risking him not feeling the same way. keeping him close as a friend was better than loosing him.

infact, you had encouraged him to ask another camp member out. this led you to your current predicament, watching him as he walked with kailey ( a girl from cabin five ). this had been his choice—he insisted she was ‘interesting enough’. you could see by the look on his face that he didn’t truly enjoy her company all that much.

“ya know, this could all be avoided if you just told him how you feel.” annabeth said from next to you, throwing a pointed look in your direction. you chose to ignore the sarcastic tone of her voice as she spoke.

“how i feel? i feel like he’s my best friend and i can’t jeopardize that. they look to be having fun.” the second sentence came out as if you were trying to convince yourself as well.

as if the universe wanted to mock you more, percy and kailey made their way over to you. annabeth looked at you, praying that you noticed the bored look on percy’s face. you gave her a look as to say ‘stop it’ before turning to shoot a smile in the direction of the approaching pair. kailey seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face while percy’s expression shifted upon seeing you. his uninterested features changed to those of contentment when your smile entered his vision.

“hey, y/n!” percy’s pace increased the closer he got to you, leaving kailey slightly behind him.

“hey, perce. kailey.” you nodded in her direction, warranting an eye-roll from the girl. “what’re you guys up to?”

“just, ya know. walking around. sat at the dock for a little bit.” percy responded. him and kailey stood an unusual distance away from eachother.

“percy, im gonna go. come fine me when you’re done with. . . this.” kailey rolled her eyes for what seemed like tenth time in the short period that she stood there. she brushed his arm slightly before turning and walking away.

“well isn’t she just a ray of sunshine.” annabeth snorted, laughing slightly.

percy agreed quickly, “she’s. . . something. that’s for sure.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“not feeling it?” you asked. he shook his head no, moving to sit next to you. his arm quickly fell over your shoulders.

this made annabeth abruptly stand up. “well, as much as i would love so stay and chat, i have shit to do. see you two later?”

“mhm. later!” percy said.

“bye, annie!” you added. as the girl walked away, you turned in percy’s direction. “is she really that terrible?” you asked.

“she’s . . . okay, i guess. not really my type.” his arm fell from your shoulders, hand moving to hold your own instead. this was something percy had developed on the numerous quests you two had gone on together. his need for physical closeness was something that many found annoying, but you found endearing.

“oh yeah? and what might your type be classified as?” you laughed.

“oh, ya know. i like a girl who’s smart, kind, funny, caring. all the usual things. i also like a girl who sets me up on dates with other people because she doesn’t realize i’m hopelessly in love with her. that’s my ideal woman.” he shrugged as if it were nothing.

your jaw had officially found the floor. “i—i’m sorry. . . what?” you were sure you had heard him wrong.

“you know what i said, y/n.” percy’s face turned serious as he turned his entire boy towards you.

“do i? because it sounds a lot like a confession.” you tried to lighten the situation, laughing slightly before halting.

“y/n, you’re making this extremely hard for me.” percy’s face had begun to turn a shade of crimson.

“how so?” you kept a serious face, struggling not to crack a smile.

“y/n. . . i’m completely and utterly in love with you. the way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you laugh again because, dam, i love that sound, the way you twirl the strand of hair by your ear when you’re nervous, the way you stick your tongue out slightly when you’re focused. i love the way that you talk about your niche interests and the way that you always put up with my bullshit. i love how deeply you care about everyone, even the people who don’t deserve it. i love the contentment in your eyes when we’re sitting at the beach. i love you because you’re you, and that’s the best person you can be.” percy didn’t once break eye contact through his speech.

it was official. this was the first time in your like that you had been rendered completely speechless. your palms became sweaty and your heart was racing. being a child of aphrodite normally meant you reacted better to love situations. this didn’t help you much now, though. instead, the only thing you could think of doing in that moment was leaning forward to connect your lips.

it wasn’t beautiful or a ‘sparks fly’ moment. it was quick and chaste, you moving away as quickly as you moved forward. once you pulled away, you looked percy in the eyes. his expression had shifted from one of fear to hunger. his hand came up, finding the back of your neck and pulling you into him again. his lips were warm and soft against yours. he tasted of sea salt and blue pancakes, a combination that only percy jackson could pull off. his free hand found it way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

once the two of you could no longer breathe, you both pulled away at a slow pace. he kept his forehead against yours.

“gods, i have been waiting a millennia to do that.” percy laughed, kissing your cheek. his head moved from yours to the crook of your neck.

“me too, perseus.” your hand reached up, lacing itself into his hair.

“fucking finally! gods, i was starting to loose hope!” grover said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“me too, honestly.” percy spoke, lifting his head to look at grover.

“you too?” you asked, confused.

“y/n, you’re literally the only person who didn’t know about percy’s massive crush.” grover explained.

you averted your gaze towards percy, who shrugged in confirmation. your face heated up. safe to say that you had managed to find yourself a valentine, though kailey from cabin five wasn’t too happy.

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taglist : @lydiascabinsix @cowboylikemac @laufeysvalentine @raysmayhem-72

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@jollyhunter

Okay, I'm finally home and this was such a wonderful thing to read through! It made my day 😊

Girl, let me tell you I was also giggling the entire time I wrote this. This fic was so self indulgent because the reader IS me, one billion percent, the awkward anxious person who has no idea how to catch someone's attention 😆 But I love it resonated with you too (but I'm also sorry it took you back to your past trauma lol 😂)

I love your writing style and especially the way you add humor!! Like this had me already cracking up - Butcher and the boys x LotR, where’s my funfic, hm??

Oh goodness THANK YOU SO MUCH! 🥰 I literally laugh to myself the whole time I write and most of the time I'm scared no one else will get the jokes, but thank you that really means a lot 💗 But YES the subtle Eomer drop... if you haven't read As Tradition Dictates, you need to because it's so good and it's been living rent free in my head since I read it. And oh my word the cross over would be wild- Soldier Boy does act like an Orc sometimes, but we love him for it anyway 🤣

It’s a real struggle 😭

Amen it is 🫶🏻

Sneaky bastard - I feel like he’s only saying that because he’s afraid that he will fall for her. (Probably already has and is taking his chance now since she’d basically friend zoned him 😂)

He could be... 😏 You could be getting dangerously close to the truth there my friend 😉

EDIT: I FORGOT TO COMMENT ON THE FRIGGIN LOCUSTS SUPE - I’d pay to see that scene; Butcher and Soldier Boy running from a swarm of locusts because they can’t punch or shoot their way out as usual and making a deal to never talk about this embarrassing moment again 🤣

You know, I am so happy you pointed this out, because I really didn't think that in depth about what that scene would look like. And I hate locusts so I was like... what supe power would just be too much for me. BUT THAT IS SO FUNNY! I can see Butcher firing off like two shots into the swarm, while Ben kinda holds up his shield half-heartedly debating if it's worth it (it's not), and the reader and Hughie are already in the car with all the windows rolled up just watching it unfold. Even funnier would be her not letting Butcher or Ben into the car because she doesn't want any of the locusts to get in and she's shooing the two of them away. 😂

NOW WHERE‘S MY PART TWO?? I’M READY

Running joke I have is that I really can't write a one-shot to save my life... and this fic is no exception. I would love to make this a series (and I sort of accidentally plotted one out for this lol). The problem is I'm trying to finish up a soulmate AU series I started last year for Soldier Boy called If The Stars Wish It So and I have a prompt celebration running so I want to finish up those two things before I start a series based on this fic... BUT I do want to, because I love fake dating and I think that I could make this exceptionally awkward and funny lol.

But I am so happy that you liked this one sweetie and thank you so much for all the lovely feedback! 💜

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[sacr1ficialang3l]

Can you read my mind? (I've been watching you.) 𓆩♡𓆪

DEAN WINCHESTER X CUPID!READER

SUMMARY: Dean and Sam get a little unexpected help with a weird case. 2.3k

WARNINGS: none. first meeting. fem!reader. dean being wary of the supernatural but weak to a pretty face.

NOTES: VERY late valentine's post. I was struck with inspiration at 2 in the morning. Idk if Valentines are a thing or if i made them up but whatever. This is my first time writing for supernatural and my first time writing a fanfic in years pls be nice. Enjoy<3

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You sigh as you materialize behind the brothers, making them almost jump out of their skin. “Love all over the place.”

You ignore their flabbergasted expressions as you look around the crowded plaza. It was Valentine’s day, and the whole place was decorated with pink and red hearts, the white streamers hanging from the trees moving with the breeze as couples and groups of friends walked around.

“Who are you?” You ignore the shorter one’s question as your gaze focuses on two kids sitting on a bench.

You could feel how much they liked each other, but they sat facing opposite ways, hands on laps and eyes stuck to the ground. You sigh and swiftly move your manicured hand towards them, pink nails shining under the sunlight. You can feel the brothers’ wary eyes on you, but you simply watch as the boy on the bench suddenly gets a notification on his phone.

“I just won two tickets for the My Chem show tonight.” He announces to the girl, voice incredulous. As they both start celebrating, the boy shyly looks up and invites her to go with him. She says yes, and after a few giggles and babbled words, they get up from the bench and leave.

You can’t help the little squeak that comes out of your mouth, your pastel pink wavy hair bouncing as you give a little jump. You immediately turn to the Winchester brothers, covering your mouth with your hand

“Sorry. You would think that after so many years on the job I would get used to it.” You sigh, twirling a lock of your hair with your fingers. “But sometimes it still manages to make me all giddy.”

You turn around just to find a gun being pointed towards you, barrel pressed to your stomach as green eyes bore holes into your head. Who you assumed was Dean Winchester was glaring at you, scowling, while his brother tried to block civilians from noticing the firearm in his hand.

Who would’ve thought green could be so beautiful.

You chuckle, not intimidated at all, which only made the brothers look even more confused.

“What the fuck are you?” Dean asks, the gun digging a little deeper into your skin.

“Are you Cupid?” This time it is Sam, his eyes studying your tiny pink dress, pink hair, and pink boots. But more importantly, the little bow and arrow that hung from your back.

You give the tall guy a cheeky smile.

“You must be Sam, hm? I’ve heard you’re the smart one.” You look back at Dean, delicate hand wrapping around the gun that was still being pressed against you. “Why don’t we put this away before you hurt someone.” You keep your eyes on him as you lower the gun. He lets you, a lost look on his face as to why he is letting you.

You take a step back and smile again, all rosy cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. “To answer your question, I guess you can call me a cupid, but I’m not the Cupid.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dean’s eyes roam up and down your body.

“We’ve met Cupid before.” Comes Sam’s explanation. “So, you work for him? Are you an angel?”

You hum softly, pouty lips pursing. “I don’t work for the Cupid you met, the angel. But you humans also call my boss that.” The brothers’ expressions stay equally clueless. “I work for Eros, the-”

“Greek god of love.” You send Sam a sweet smile for his right answer.

“And desire, yes!”

“So you’re a Goddess.” Dean affirms more than asks, and when you turn back to face him you are struck with his beauty once again. Both brothers were drop-dead gorgeous, but something about the sharpness in the older one’s features made you want to ask if he was in any way related to Lady Aphrodite.

“Oh, no. Gods no.” You shake your head, making the multiple silver jewelry in your ears clink. “We work for Eros. Think about us like a version of Artemis’ hunters.”

“Yeah, because that gives me so much clarity.” Dean’s voice was breathtakingly deep, it reminded you of being in Lord Ares’ presence. (Happened once, never again.)

“Gods are incredibly powerful, but they often need help from mortals to do certain deeds. Artemis’ hunters, Hecate’s priests and priestess, so on and so forth.” You explain quickly. Sam seemed to understand you perfectly, Dean still looked a bit like he wanted to shoot you. “We don’t have an official name like that, but you can call us Valentines.”

“So you, what? Go around making people fall in love?” He asks with skepticism. You sigh. Everyone always had the same wrong idea.

“We don’t make people fall in love, we simply… present them with opportunities.” You chuckle and turn to look around the plaza, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you try to look for an example. You find a blond guy who was messing around with his friends near an ice cream shop. Right behind him, a girl in roller skates was moving his way.

“See those two?” I ask the brothers, pointing towards the pair. “If I didn’t intervene, they would never cross paths. But their auras, they are compatible, and they’re both lonely.” You squint, concentrating. Aura reading wasn’t as easy as fake witches made it seem. “But if I just…” Once again, you move your hand delicately towards them.

Suddenly, Blond Boy's friend's milkshake falls to the ground. It causes Blond Boy to take several steps back, getting right in Roller Skates Girl’s way. She immediately tries to stop, but it makes her lose her balance. Blond Boy’s hands are instantly on her waist, preventing her from falling on her back. They look at each other, eyes lingering, and your job is done.

You turn to the Winchesters with a satisfied smile, your flowy skirt dancing around you as you twirl, and they just stare back at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t tell how I feel about it.” Declares Sam, making you snicker.

“If it makes you feel better, I can assure you I can only influence circumstances.” You sigh, looking back at the two lovebirds. They’re already exchanging numbers. “Whatever happens from here on out is in their hands.”

That seems to do the trick, at least for the younger brother. Dean still looked like he was going to reach for his gun anytime soon. You sigh again.

“Look, I am not here to cause trouble.” You raise your hands in surrender, bracelets sliding down your wrists. “I came to talk.”

“Why would you want to talk to us?” You start to walk down the plaza, a little skip to your step. You stop right on the edge of the plaza where you could look down at the sea, waves hitting against the asphalt in a calming manner. Both brothers share a confused look before following you.

“You two are here for a hunt, right?” You ask walking down the edge of the shoreline, go-go boots click-clacking against the cobblestone. “The deaths that have been happening? People killing people they love?”

“What do you know about it?” You turn around at Dean’s accusatory tone. His gun was back in his hand, and it makes you roll your eyes. His eyebrows raise in surprise.

Looks like there was an edge in between all that sugar-covered whimsy after all.

“You know, everyone says you are distrustful, but damn.” You tsk. Why was it always the cute ones that had the biggest attitude problems? “I wasn’t going to intervene, but when I found out that the Winchesters were in my zone, I had to do something. You two are kind of famous for wiping out any supernatural beings you come in contact with.” You continue to walk down the shoreline. When you get to a light pole, you twirl around it until you’re facing the brothers again. “Any other day, I would’ve just hidden until you finished your job, but it is Valentine’s. The boss likes us to be extra active today.”

It looked like Dean wants to retort, but Sam interrupts him. “What do you know about the case?”

Your smile fades a little, and you let go of the light pole, your shiny eyes dropping to the floor.

“You’re looking for an Anti-Valentine, or that’s what we call them.” Your cheeks blush with shame. “They’re like us, Eros’ followers, but they…”

“Turn evil?” Dean guesses sarcastically, and you nod.

“Why would they want people to kill who they love?” Asks Sam, crossing his arms. “I mean, you look like you love love.”

That makes you giggle. “It is… hard. To do this job.” You lean back into the light pole, looking out at the sea. “There’s only so many times you can make two people who are perfect for each other meet, only for them to cheat or hurt each other before you start to have doubts.” You bite your lip, doe eyes glossing with sadness.

“And that makes them turn evil?”

“Well, most Valentines have had doubts at some point in our lives. But Anti-Valentines, they start to think humans don’t deserve love. They start getting angry and hateful, and it starts to poison them.” You swallow harshly, looking down at the floor before your eyes meet Dean’s green one, and the heavy weight on your chest turns a little lighter. Huh. “Valentines can’t manipulate mortal’s emotions, but Anti-Valentines… They've learned how to blind humans with anger. I think you humans may call it a rage blackout or something.”

The brothers seem to be processing your words. Dean studies you slowly while Sam looks like he’s racking his brain for any information on Valentines. If you hadn’t been so sad, you would totally be flirting with Dean right now. Yes, Eros was the God of love, but everyone seemed to forget he was also the God of desire. You could be a hell of a vixen when you were in the mood.

“So, how do we kill it?” Asks Dean, always ready to fight. It was hot.

“That’s the problem.” You sigh for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour, twirling around the light pole once again, cheeky smile returning to your face. “If I tell you how to kill them, I tell you how to kill me.”

Dean’s eyebrow raises, but his mouth twitches into a half-smirk. He looks you up and down one more time before his tongue runs over his lower lip, earning an incredulous huff from Sam.

“So, what’s the deal?”

“I’ll tell you how to find the Anti-Valentine and how to kill it, and you promise not to come for me after.”

“You got yourself a deal, sweetheart.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Dean was soaked in black blood when you appeared in front of him again.

Sam and he had just finally killed the Anti-Valentine, after being thrown against walls and dodging heart-pointed arrows for what felt like hours. Looks like those little bows aren't only for the aesthetic.

So while Sam and Dean looked a little worse for wear as they tried to catch their breath, there you were, in the middle of a filthy warehouse looking like a literal goddess. Pastel pink hair perfectly styled, shiny lips and shiny eyeshadow, your pink boots not getting dirty at all even as you walked through the dirt on the ground. The worst part was how you were pink everywhere. He wasn’t talking about only your clothes and hair. Your cheeks, your knees, your elbows. The palm of your hands and your pouty lips. Made him wonder, just how many other places were pink too.

“Nice to see you two are as good as they say.” You walk close to where the brothers are leaning against a wall. They were covered in blood and grim, slight cuts all over from when they weren’t quick enough while avoiding the Anti-Valentine’s arrows.

You stand right in front of Dean, and there is a halo of light around you. You were literally glowing. You were just so glad the Anti-Valentine had been taken care of. You would’ve done something about it before the Winchesters got into town, but Valentines couldn’t attack other Valentines, even if they were evil.

“Happy to meet your expectations, sweetheart.” Dean grunts, hand pressing to his side where there was a long gash.

You extend your hand towards him with a grin, palm up and ring-clad fingers waving. “My blade, please and thank you.”

You had given the brothers your celestial bronze dagger to use against the Anti-Valentine with the promise that they would give it back.

“What if we ever need to kill another one of these, hm?” It is impressive how Dean managed to look so hot when he was slowly bleeding out from his side. “Or another Greek creature.”

You smirk, and with a little jump you land in front of him. You lean in, biting your full lower lip and blinking up at Dean, long eyelashes fluttering. “Then I guess you’ll have to give me a call, sweetheart.”

You softly press a hand to Dean’s chest, making his breath hitch. You subtly wrap your hand around your dagger in his jacket’s pocket. When his eyes drop down to your lips, you press your hand harder against his torso. Gods, he was firm.

In less than a second, all injuries in Dean’s body were cured. Even the gash on his side. He looks up at you in surprise, and you swiftly take a step back, dagger in hand. You let out a dreamy giggle, taking a step towards Sam and pressing a finger to the tip of his nose, making a little “boop” sound and curing him instantly too.

You take another little jump back, facing both brothers as you brush your hair behind your shoulder and dangle the dagger between your slender fingers. With one last giggle, you wink at Dean.

“See you later, boys.”

You disappear in a cloud of pastel pink smoke, leaving behind a smell of caramel and red velvet cake.

And you knew you were gonna see them again. After all, you had a soft spot for pretty things.

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 15 - Barty Crouch Jr. | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1,096 Final Part of Healer Apprentice James Part 1 | Part 2

James knows that they’re getting weird looks. People understand Sirius being here, he’s Regulus’ brother after all and their relationship has been greatly improving since they both agreed to come stay with James instead of their parents. However, James and Regulus are much more under wraps, so there’s many looks being sent their way -- understandably, the ‘Golden Boy’ of Gryffindor wearing a Slytherin tie and standing on the Slytherin side of the bleachers right next to Sirius, Pandora, Marlene, and Evan cheering on their friends and partners. 

It’s also how James is one of the first people to make it down to the field the second that Regulus goes down, their friends right after them. It’s how James is the first person not on a broom to make it to his fallen body, especially since Poppy is still up in the infirmary. 

Barty, who touched down next to Regulus just moments before James got to him, pushes their captain away and puts up a fight against him -- he’s understandably, trying to get James away from his seeker, but neither Barty nor James care. The others take to making a space around them to get the rest of the teams and anyone else that may have rushed forward away. 

James just focuses on keeping him stable, on checking over him, making sure his pulse is still there and his breathing is even before starting on the more in depth searches, pulling out their wand and doing scanning spells. They barely register when McGonagall and Slughorn get to them and are let in by their friends. 

McGonagall hunches down on the ground next to the two, putting her hand on James’ shoulder, “Talk to me, what’s going on with him.” 

James mindlessly prattles off what they’ve discovered so far to her, doing another spell to keep him stable in case Regulus’ body decides to give out. They barely register the terms falling from their lips, but they know that the woman is keeping up with it -- you can’t be married to the very person that taught James all of these terms for so long and not know how to keep up with it. 

McGonagall nods, “Alright, you, Mister Crouch, and Mister Black take him up to the medical wing. Your friends can go with you, I’ll deal with everything here. You’re dismissed, James.” James nods, thanks the woman, and calls for Barty and Sirius. The two come rushing over and help James pick their boyfriend up. The three of them make their way to the infirmary, Dorcas, Pandora, and Evan making a blockade around the three. James hands Regulus off to Barty while they go to prep a bed and Sirius goes to grab Poppy -- this looks like more than James is going to be able to do, let alone by themself. 

The woman comes rushing in, telling everyone but James to leave and give them space. Reluctantly, the group does so -- James thinks they hear something about Sirius going to get Remus and be back -- while the healer and her apprentice get to work on doing what they can to help Regulus. 

“It’s a good thing you’re a fan of quidditch.” Poppy says once they’re sure that Regulus is stable. James sits on the bed next to his head, watching his face, “I don’t tend to like those games and having you down there to jump in and do what you did today will be a great help and worry off my back.” She laughs gently, her crow’s feet wrinkling at the motion, “Perhaps I should take on apprentices more often.” 

James smiles at her, the dread they had been feeling slowly ebbing from their chest now that they’re sure he’s stable and they know what they can do to check on him at any point, “I’m sure it would be nice.” 

Poppy stands up and puts a hand on their shoulder like she tends to do, “He’ll be okay. Have faith in your capabilities.” And with that, she walks out of the area, going to do something else. Their friends fill into the small area soon after that, bombarding James with questions about how Regulus is doing. They reassure the group, saying that he’s stable and going to be asleep for a while but they’re monitoring him. They’re informed that Remus and Pandora -- the most rational of the group currently -- went to go see the aftermath of the attack, because they all know that this wasn’t an accident, but will be back soon. 

Sirius is the last person to leave after a while, though he seems about starving, so James tells him to go ahead, perhaps even bring up some food for his friend and brother and reassuring him that they’ll be there when Regulus wakes up, no matter their duties with the other patients in the infirmary. Sirius nods reluctantly, whispering, “I’m glad he has you to take care of him.” And walking away. 

Regulus wakes up not long after that, just as James is finishing up with their rounds and has sat back down on the bed, “Sorry, did I wake you?” They reach out to run their hands through his hair, hopefully helping him come back to reality, “How are you feeling?” 

“Like shit.” Regulus grumbles quietly, moving to sit up. 

James stops him, “I’m sorry, love, but you can’t sit up right now.” They laugh gently at his groan, “I know, I know, but it’s just going to make the injury worse. I can get you another pain draught if you want.” Regulus nods and they stand to grab one that he’s allowed to take right now, handing it off to him. He drinks it gratefully, asking about what happened. James fills him in, running their hands through his hair and along his face. 

“Thank you, Jamie.” Regulus hums, his eyes growing lidded again. James smiles at him and is going to tell him to get more rest, but then Sirius is coming in with some food for them, Barty and Evan in tow, and James is moving to help him sit up in a way that isn’t going to disturb his healing and running another screening spell to assure their friends that he’s doing fine. 

James, unfortunately has to leave him to sleep in their own dorm, but they promise to him that they’ll check on him bright and early, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“I’m glad I have you to take care of me.” 

They smile at him gently, “Always and forever.”

[funnyjb]

Because I love the imagine you wrote and I want another one!!!! In honor of Valentine’s Day today!!! Can you do a long imagine of Joe where he is surprising his wife on Valentine’s Day with the help of kids. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

AHH glad you loved it!!! Here ya go!❤️

…………………………………………………………………………

The morning sun shining into yours and Joes shared bedroom. As you worked up Joe was already awake next to you. His head rested on his hand as he sat up from his arm.

It gave you a little jump.

“You’re creepy.”- you

“No, I just love you.”- Joe gives you a kiss

You chuckle

Joe looks into your eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joey.”- you

“Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n.”- Joe

You kiss

As you were about to go in for another kiss the door creeps open. It’s your two girls. Zoey is two years older than your youngest Rylee.

“Mommy? Daddy?”- Zoey

Zoey’s bed head looks like a birds nest. Her stuffy in her hand and those doe eyes bringing even more love into your heart.

“Here, baby.”- you smile

“Momma!”- Rylee

Rylee runs over to you.

You pick her up and put her on the bed.

Zoey being the daddy’s girl she is runs over to Joes side. He picks her up and puts her next to Rylee.

“Look mommy!- Zoey

She hands you two cards. Valentines cards. Handmade by your two favorite girls in the world. Your daughters.

“Aww, thank you, girls! I love them so much.”- You give them a kiss

“Momma, go to da downstairs!”- Rylee

“Downstairs? What’s downstairs?”- you

“How about you go check.”- Joe smiles

You gave him a look.

“What did you do?”- you smile

“Go check.”- joe points his eyes to the door

“Come mommy!”- Zoey hops out of bed

“Ok, ok, coming!”- you

You pick up Rylee and rest her on your hip.

You walk downstairs into the cold but quiet room.

You gasp.

There were big pink and red flower arrangements on the kitchen counter and in the dining room table. Three big chocolate hearts lay out in the counter along with a card. Some Hershey chocolate kisses laid out. Even some un-rapped, you guessed it was the girls. Along with heart balloons filling the room.

“Daddy, already gave us our gifts but he wanted to surprise you!”- Zoey

“Do you like it, mamma?”- Rylee

“I..I love it.”- you

You were in awe. They were the biggest flower arrangements you’ve ever seen. The way everything was laying out. The thought put into it. You love everything.

“Joe, you did this?”- you turned around to look at your husband

“Maybe.”- joe chuckles

He comes over to you

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”- Joe

He kisses you

“Thank you. I love it!”- you

You walk over to pick up the card

The front has a big heart that says ‘Be Mine’

You open it

Dear y/n,

Happy Valentine’s Day. I can’t believe it’s our 12th valentines together. How crazy is that? We’re getting old, babe. Just kidding you aren’t. I have loved you since we were 17. I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. You were out by the park with your friends. We were only 15 at the time. You had that beautiful smile plastered onto your face. The smile that can light up any room and the smile that makes my heart grow stronger. You laughed at something stupid your friends said. The laugh that is contagious. It makes my day hearing your laugh. It’s my medicine. Thank you for always being by my side. Through everything. I don’t know how you do it. You always know how to calm me down or make me laugh when I need it. You are my best friend. My home. The one I run to. My shoulder to lean on. My wife. And the most amazing mom to our beautiful girls. You guys are my world. Today is about celebrating love. I know that I love you guys more than anything in this world. More than football. More than anything. I know it can be hard sometimes. It can be hard getting the girls to corporate. It can be hard after I come home from a loss or a long day at work. It can be hard when you have a bad day. But know I am always there for you. I am forever yours. Thank you for having the patience and standing by me. I am forever grateful. I love you more than life itself.

From,

Joe

A tear streamed down your face.

“You ok, momma?”- Rylee

“Yeah. I’m just really happy and lucky.”- you kiss her head.

“Joe.”- You

When you turn around Joe is already looking at you.

“Thank you. That was the most amazing card. I love you so much.”- you

“I love you too.”- Joe

“Can we have breakfast now?”- Zoey

Joe and you laugh

“Yes! Go get the eggs.”- you

Zoey runs into the kitchen as you put Rylee down to play.

Safe to say this was starting to be the best valentines yet.

………………………………….

[sheerfreesia007]

Dyed Colors

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 2,779

Content warnings: Fluff, kissing

Summary: Your college is hosting a date match up event for Valentine’s Day. This year all you have to do is pick an activity that you’d like to do and you’ll be paired up with someone who wants to try the same thing. What happens when you’re paired with the irritable Jeongin?

A/N: Divider was created by @enchanthings-a, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

You had heard your friends talking about the event that the student council was hosting for Valentine’s Day. It was a date match up event where you picked an activity that you were interested in that the local businesses and clubs were holding for Valentine’s Day and you would be paired up with someone who had chosen the same thing as you did. Your friends had been very excited for some of the options as they talked about it over lunch one day and you had grown curious. 

“So all we have to do is choose an activity that we’re interested in and they’ll pair us up with someone else who’s chosen that activity?” you ask curiously as you take your lunch tray over to the table with your friends.

“Yup! And they have a lot of cool activities to choose from. There’s a popular coffee tasting event that has already filled up.” one of your friends says as she sits down at the table and you laugh softly while nodding your head.

“That tracks for most of the campus, can’t function without coffee.” you say as your friends laugh while nodding their heads in agreement. You power up your laptop and pull up the email from the student council with the list of activities. Your eyes race down the list curiously before you eyes focus on two options, pottery and tie dying. You can feel your creative mind starting to run wild with the idea of picking up another hobby and you can’t help but feel excited. “Do you know what other activities have been popular? Which ones are filling up quickly?” you ask your friends and one of them starts to nod their head.

“The video gaming cafe tournament is nearly filled already. As well as the cooking class, that was just filled. But if you look at the list, all the ones that aren’t crossed out are still available, the ones in orange are almost full though.” your friend informs you as you both peer at your laptop curiously. Your eyes immediately fall to pottery and see that it’s colored orange while tie dying isn’t colored anything and isn’t crossed out. With a tilt of your head you open up a reply email to the student council and type out the tie dying event that you’re interested in and send it off. “That’s a good choice. I bet you’ll love that one.” your friend tells you and smile brightly at her. “You always loved doing crafts and I’m sure this will be no different.” she says and can’t stop the excitement rising within you for your Valentine’s date.

It’s two weeks before Valentine’s Day and you’re holed up in your dorm crocheting a large scarf and hat set for your mom’s birthday that’s coming up. She had recently told you that the weather is getting too cold for her and that she wished she had a warm comfy scarf and hat to go out in. Suddenly there’s a knock at your door and you frown softly before setting aside your project and getting up from the couch, you pause your show on the television before your feet walk you over to the door and you open it.

“Have you read your emails?” your best friend asks you as she walks into your dorm without even any preamble which makes you smile softly and fondly at her.

”No, why? What’s wrong?” You ask her and she shakes her head at you before going straight for your messenger bag. She quickly pulled out your laptop and opened up your emails before squealing loudly.

”He emailed you!” She cried out and pointed to the new email that you had in your inbox. Sitting on the couch together she handed you your laptop before bouncing in her place next to you. You open up the email that’s come in from i.2.n.8 and see that the guy’s name is Yang Jeongin and he will be joining you on your tie dye date for Valentine’s Day. He asks if you’d like to catch an Uber together to the tie dye event location and he offers to chat on the phone through text and calls for the next two weeks so that it’s not awkward to be in an Uber together.

”Aww, he’s sweet.” You coo softly and your friend smirks at you knowingly.

”You’re already down bad huh?” She asks with a knowing sparkle in her eyes and you shake your head quickly at her.

”No way, I just think he’s being sweet.” You defend yourself and she rolls her eyes at you while smiling.

”Whatever you say babe.” She teases and you shove her down onto your couch.

”Shut up.” You retort while she laughs at you before you begin typing out a response to Jeongin giving him your number and agreeing to talking together and then catching an Uber.

The day of Valentine’s came quickly and you were so excited and eager to spend it tie dying some tee shirts and tank tops that you had bought for the activity. You had even picked up some tee shirts and tank tops of Jeongin after texting and calling him throughout the two weeks leading up to today. He had also told you that he found two white throw blankets for the two of you to tie dye that he bought. You were so happy that he was just as eager as you were to do this activity together.

In fact you were surprised to find out how easy it was to talk to Jeongin. After the first couple of phone calls where the two of you were so incredibly awkward it all seemed to smooth out and he had already become someone that you considered a friend. You figured if nothing came out of this date you and Jeongin could be good friends. But secretly you hoped that something would come out of this date, Jeongin loved sending you selfies and you couldn’t deny that the man was gorgeous and definitely someone that you wanted to try a romantic relationship with. When the Uber shows up you get a notification and Jeongin calls you excitedly. 

”Good morning Jagi! Are you ready for a tie dye date?” He asked excitedly over the phone and you chuckled softly at him as you grabbed your purse and the bag with the tee shirts and tank tops in it before heading out the door.

”Good morning Innie.” You greet him happily using the nickname he told he preferred to be called. “I am ready for our tie dye date. Are you?” You asked teasingly and heard his answering chuckle.

”Waiting on you pretty girl.” He teased back and you felt your heart stammer in your chest at his flirting. He had been doing that since a few days ago and you didn’t want to get your hopes up but you really hoped he meant the flirting and that it meant that he was interested in you.

When you walked down the stairs of your dorm complex to the sidewalk you spotted a compact car waiting right by the end of the sidewalk and Jeongin was standing outside of the car with a small bouquet of flowers and a shy grin on his face. Your heart stammered in your chest once more as you gazed at him before a bright happy smile slipped onto your face with ease. You skipped up to him excitedly and he chuckled at your antics before handing you the bouquet with a flourish. You gasped softly and graciously took the flowers from him beaming up at him before smelling the flowers and closing your eyes gently.

”They’re beautiful Innie. Thank you.” You told him happily and he bashfully nodded his head before guiding you into the waiting car.

”You’re welcome. But they don’t beat your own beauty.” He whispers softly to you and your eyes widen at his bold words before turning to him and smiling softly at his flirting as heat blossoms on your face.

The ride to the location doesn’t take too long but it’s further out from the campus and in the middle of sleepy little peaceful village that has nothing but farmland all around it. You’re amazed that there are enough people interested in tie dying to form a club all the way out here. But when you spot the many clothes lines in each of the yards of the homes that you passed a soft smile slipped onto your face.

”It’s so peaceful out here. Close enough to the city but far enough away that you can relax and just breathe.” You said softly and Innie nodded his head at your words.

”Very peaceful. When you’re settled in after obtaining your degree and have a job where would you like to settle?” Innie asks as he looks out the window.

”Oh probably in a town like this one. I kinda like the quiet life.” You say fondly as you turn your head to gaze at him. Innie smiles while nodding his head as he turns to you.

”I like that idea. I never thought of moving out of the city but now I can see the appeal of it. Especially if it’s only a short car ride away to the city I like the idea of not living on top others.” He agrees and you nod your head at his words.

Just then the car comes to stop outside of a community center and you both look out the window excitedly. Jeongin gets out first and helps you out of the car before grabbing the two bags that you both brought with you. When he walks with you towards the community center you both look around spotting only a couple of others who had picked tie dying as their activity. You like the idea of it being a less crowded quiet date for the two of you to get to know each other.

”Good morning everyone! Happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to our little town and our first tie dying activity. Thank you all for coming!” Says a woman who looks to be around your mom’s age as she stands with a few other older women. You smile happily at her as you stand next to Innie while listening to the woman explain a little bit about their lovely town and how to came about forming the tie dying club. It’s all very sweet to you and you unconsciously lean into Innie’s side as you continue to listen to the woman talk about their town and club. You don’t notice Innie’s soft smile as he looks down at you happily before focusing back on the woman speaking.

The group of you are then lead into the large open field behind the community center and you can see a few stations laid out for you to do your tie dye at. You and Innie pick a station that’s at the edge of the group so that the two of you have some privacy to talk freely. You take out the shirts and tank tops and divy them out between you and Innie so that you both have things to tie dye as he hands you one of the throws that he bought.

”Oh Innie! Why don’t we tie dye the throws for each other as a cute gift.” You suggest happily and he grins at you before nodding his head eagerly.

”That’s great idea Jagi!” He says happily before turning back to the rubber bands and the clothes he’s going to tie dye. The two of you watch the women demonstrate the different ways to wrap and tie up the items you want to tie dye before you both get to work on your items. Innie keeps nudging you as you try to get the items tied correctly and the two of you wind up in a playful nudging match as you both laugh at each other. The next step is to put in the dye for each section of the item and while the first step had been playful you both grow serious as you focus on your task at hand. Neither one of you notice the older women watching the two of you fondly as you work quietly.

After everything is dyed the way that you want it all you have to do is wait for a bit for the dye to settle into the fabric before rinsing it and then hanging it out to dry on the line that is already set up. The women provide a bountiful lunch for all of you and each couple has a small picnic on the large field behind the community center. You’re laid out on the grass soaking up the sun after eating your lunch as Innie sits up right next to you just gazing at the landscape of the small town.

”It’s really pretty here isn’t it?” He asks softly and you look up at him with a happy smile on your face. He looks down at you and chuckles softly before shaking his head.

”You’re prettier though.” You flirt shamelessly and watch as a blush crawls up his neck as he ducks his head with embarrassment. “I could get used to dates like these.” You say mindlessly as you shut your eyes and stretch lazily under the warm rays of the sun. Innie chuckles above you before leaning down to block out your sun. You pout at him before you eyes flutter open and are shocked at how close he was to you.

”Is that right?” He asks huskily and you blush prettily for him. He grins before dipping his head and pressing a quick peck to your nose before sitting up again.

”I think you missed.” You tell him boldly as you gaze up at him and he avoids your eyes as he shakes his head while his blush intensifies on his face.

”Alright everyone! If you’ll clean up and come back to your stations the tie dye should be set in the fabric now!” Calls out the woman who had greeted you all earlier this morning. You and Innie quickly clean up and rush back to your station to eagerly unwrap your projects. 

As the two of you unwrap everything you’re slightly disappointed but notice how good Innie’s look. You then notice the slight pout on his face and you frown softly.

”What’s wrong?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

”They didn’t come out how I imagined them to. But I like yours, they came out really good.” He admitted and you chuckle softly as you nod your head in agreement to his words.

”I feel the same way. I don’t think mine came out how I wanted them to but I really like yours.” You admit and he grins widely at you.

”Wanna swap with me?” He asks hopefully and your eyes widen at his question before your head begins to nod quickly.

”Absolutely! Swap everything?” You ask and he nods his head in agreement as well. You do a little happy dance and Innie chuckles at your antics before the two of you then unwrap your throws together. You’re both in awe of each other’s throws as well and you feel your heart thud happily in your chest when you see the heart design that Innie had managed to make on the blanket. He grins at you before taking the throw that you had made him with the cool circular bubble designs.

“I really like this. It’s really cool.” He admits and you smile up at him happy that he enjoys his gift you’ve made him. 

“I really like mine. It’ll look great on my couch!” You tell him and he smiles at your happiness. The two of you then rinse your items before hanging them up on the line to dry. As you’re fixing the throw to hang evenly Innie slips under the throw with a wicked grin on his face before he darts down and presses a sweet chaste kiss to your mouth surprising you. When your brain catches up you instantly melt into him and he holds you close while resting his forehead on yours.

”So next week would you like to try another activity that was on the list?” He asked softly and your eyes darted up to his curiously.

”Like a second date?” You ask him and he shyly nods his head which causes you to beam up at him. “I would love that Innie.” You tell him sweetly and he grins down at you before pecking your lips once more.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

[atlasthegreatest]

Love Game / Jang Wonyoung x Female Reader

Wonyoung needs a date for an exclusive Valentine’s event, so she convinces her friend Y/n to pretend to be her girlfriend. They both treat it like a game—holding hands, feeding each other chocolate, making everyone swoon—but when the night ends, things between what is real and fake start to blur together.

Word count: 3928

Warnings: Fake dating. Friends to lovers. Fluff. Soft angst(?).

The invitation had arrived in the most extravagant way possible—a velvet box, tied with a satin ribbon, containing a single golden card. The Lumière Valentine’s Gala, an exclusive event for the most elite names in the industry, and, of course, Jang Wonyoung was on the guest list.

But there was one problem.

“You need a date?” Y/n repeated, leaning against the café table as Wonyoung stirred her iced Americano with deliberate slowness.

“Mm. Technically, no. But everyone who’s anyone is bringing a partner, and I can’t show up alone,” she said, tapping her straw against the rim of the cup. “It’d be… embarrassing.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You’re Jang Wonyoung. Since when do you care about what people think?”

“Since people started making a big deal about who I’m dating,” the idol countered smoothly. “If I go alone, they’ll start rumors. If I go with someone suspicious, they’ll start worse rumors.”

“And I’m… not suspicious?”

“You’re safe,” Wonyoung corrected, pointing her straw at the woman. “A friend. Someone I can trust. We pretend to be in love for one night, steal the spotlight, and walk away untouched by scandal. It’ll be fun.”

Y/n considered it. The idea of fake dating Wonyoung—who was effortlessly elegant and intimidatingly beautiful—felt surreal. But the way she was grinning, eyes twinkling with mischief, made it impossible to say no.

“…Fine. But if you make me wear something ridiculous, I’m backing out.”

Her laugh was light and victorious. “No promises.”

————————

The gala was straight out of a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in golden light, and a string quartet played softly in the background as elegantly dressed guests danced and mingled.

Wonyoung was breathtaking. A sleek red gown hugged her frame, her long hair cascading over her shoulders like silk. She turned to the tall woman by her side, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“You clean up well,” she mused, looping her arm through Y/n’s.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Y/n replied, earning a playful nudge.

The game began the moment they stepped inside.

Wonyoung leaned in close when she spoke, her breath warm against Y/n’s ear. She intertwined her fingers with hers so naturally that it sent a shiver up Y/n’s spine. When a photographer asked for a picture, Wonyoung turned to Y/n with soft, expectant eyes—so the tall woman placed a hand on her waist, pulling her just a little closer.

And then there were the chocolates.

“Here,” Wonyoung plucked a heart-shaped truffle from a tray, holding it between her fingertips. “Open up.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Y/n muttered, but she obeyed, letting herself be fed the decadent chocolate. Wonyoung’s lips curled into a smirk as she dabbed Y/n’s lip with her thumb.

“You had something there,” she said innocently.

Gasps and whispers followed them both throughout the night. Wonyoung’s performance was flawless, and Y/n found herself playing along with equal ease.

But as the evening stretched on, something shifted.

Wonyoung wasn’t just pretending to be close—she was leaning into Y/n’s warmth, laughing at her quiet jokes, squeezing her hand just a little tighter.

And when the final dance came, her fingers hesitated before lacing behind Y/n’s neck. The soft melody wrapped around them like a secret, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded.

Wonyoung looked up at Y/n, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

“…This was supposed to be a game,” she murmured.

“Was it?” Y/n asked, heart pounding.

Wonyoung didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. But the way she rested her head against the tall woman’s shoulder, just as the last note played, told Y/n everything.

Something about tonight wasn’t fake.

And maybe—just maybe—it never had been.

———————-

The car ride back was quiet. Not awkward, not tense—just quiet.

Wonyoung sat beside Y/n, her head resting lightly against the seat, her fingers toying with the edge of her dress. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and red, a soft contrast to the way Y/n’s heart still thundered from the events of the night.

This was supposed to be a game.

Wonyoung words echoed in Y/n’s head, twisting into something more complicated than either of them had intended. It had been fun, effortless even—laughing at the stolen glances, indulging in the attention, leaning into the script of a perfect romance. But somewhere between the teasing smiles and the way Wonyoung had held Y/n during that final dance, the lines had blurred.

Y/n wasn’t sure where reality ended and the game began anymore.

And judging by the way Wonyoung kept stealing glances at her when she thought Y/n wasn’t looking, maybe she wasn’t sure either.

The car slowed to a stop outside her apartment complex. Wonyoung hesitated before unbuckling her seatbelt, her fingers stilling as if debating something.

“You’re not going to make me walk you to your door, are you?” Y/n teased lightly, trying to shake off the weight of the moment.

The other woman rolled her eyes but smiled. “I could demand the full fake date experience,” she mused. “You know, lingering goodnight, dramatic parting words…”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It does.” Wonyoung let out a soft laugh, but then she turned to Y/n, the playfulness in her gaze dimming slightly.

A pause.

“…Did you have fun?” Wonyoung asked quietly.

The question was simple, but the way she said it—almost cautious, almost vulnerable—made Y/n’s chest tighten.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Did you?”

Wonyoung looked at Y/n for a long moment, her dark brown eyes searching for something even she wasn’t sure of. Then, finally, she nodded.

“Yeah.”

Silence again.

Y/n wasn’t sure what she expected—some kind of grand confession? A realization that this whole thing wasn’t as fake as they both thought? But Wonyoung just exhaled a slow breath, before reaching for the door handle.

Then she paused.

In the dim glow of the streetlights, she turned back toward Y/n, hesitating only for a second before leaning in. It wasn’t a kiss—not quite. Just a brush of warmth as she pressed a fleeting touch against the tall woman’s cheek. Close enough that Y/n could feel her breath, close enough that she could still catch the faint scent of vanilla and roses clinging to her skin.

When Wonyoung pulled back, she smiled—small, almost secretive.

“Goodnight,” she murmured, before stepping out into the cool night air.

Y/n sat there, frozen, as she disappeared through the doors of her apartment building.

The game was supposed to end the moment she walked away.

So why did it feel like something had just begun?

—————————

If they were going to keep this up, there had to be rules. That’s what Wonyoung had said.

She had drafted them over coffee later that week, tapping them into her notes app with the precision of someone crafting a business contract.

Rule #1: Public displays of affection are allowed—but only when necessary.

(“Necessary according to who?” Y/n had asked. “Me, obviously,” Wonyoung had replied, flipping her hair dramatically.)

Rule #2: No catching feelings.

(“That’s the most important one,” Wonyoung had said, not quite looking at Y/n. “This is all just for fun.”)

Rule #3: The game stops the moment one of us wants out. No hard feelings.

Y/n had agreed. It had seemed simple enough. Logical. A way to keep things in control.

So why did it already feel like the rules were breaking before the game even started?

The first test came a week later at an exclusive industry event—a launch party for a luxury fashion brand. The second Y/n walked in with Wonyoung on her arm, eyes turned. Whispers followed.

“Everyone’s looking at us,” Y/n murmured, adjusting her cuff as she walked beside the idol.

“Good.” Wonyoung smiled, slipping her hand into Y/n’s. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

And just like that, she led Y/n into the performance.

The way Wonyoung leaned into her when she laughed. The way she let her brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze flickering up to meet Y/n’s in that perfect, practiced moment of tension. The way she absentmindedly played with the hem of her sleeve, a soft touch that made Y/n’s heart stutter, even if hers didn’t.

It was flawless. Effortless.

So why did it feel so real?

The night blurred into flashes of conversation, champagne toasts, stolen glances that lasted too long. Then, somewhere between polite greetings and the weight of the attention on them both, Wonyoung whispered,

“Follow me.”

She led Y/n through a back door, out onto a private balcony overlooking the glittering city skyline. The air was crisp, cool against the tall woman’s skin.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, watching as the other woman leaned against the railing.

Wonyoung nodded, but there was something distant in her expression. “It’s just… a lot sometimes.”

The admission was quiet. Uncharacteristic.

Jang Wonyoung was untouchable. Confident. Always in control. But here, beneath the city lights, she just looked… tired.

Y/n hesitated, then, without thinking, reached out—her fingers brushing hers against the railing. A small, grounding touch.

Wonyoung glanced at their hands, her lips parting slightly. Then, before Y/n could pull away, she held on.

Neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of music from inside.

“…This feels different, doesn’t it?” she said finally, so quietly Y/n almost missed it.

Y/n’a pulse jumped.

“Wonyoung—”

Before the woman could finish, the door behind her opened. A couple of guests stepped out onto the balcony, catching sight of them both.

Wonyoung’s expression shifted in an instant—masking whatever had just been there with something dazzling, effortless. She turned to the tall woman, voice light and teasing.

“Should we give them a show?”

Y/n barely had time to react before Wonyoung reached up, cupping her face like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then—

She kissed her.

It wasn’t deep, wasn’t dramatic—just a soft press of her lips against hers, fleeting yet devastating. Y/n’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she forgot this was supposed to be fake.

But then Wonyoung pulled away, her gaze searching Y/n’s for something she wouldn’t say out loud.

The guests murmured behind them, their excitement obvious. Exactly what Wonyoung had wanted.

She smiled like nothing had changed.

But as Wonyoung led them back inside, her hand still in hers, Y/n couldn’t ignore the unfamiliar warmth blooming in her chest.

Judging by the way Wonyoung’s fingers trembled slightly against hers—

Maybe she couldn’t either.

————————-

Y/n should’ve been used to the rumors by now.

After the party, the internet exploded. Pictures of Wonyoung kissing her spread like wildfire, headlines ranging from excited to downright intrusive.

“IVE’s Wonyoung confirms secret romance?”

“Who is Wonyoung’s mystery girlfriend—and how long have they been together?”

For days, Y/n’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Even her own friends started texting her.

Hyunjin: “There’s no way you pulled Wonyoung.”

Giselle: “Teach me your ways.”

Yujin: “Did you SERIOUSLY start dating Wonyoung and not tell me?”

“It’s fake.”

Yujin: “LOL sure.”

“It is.”

Yujin: “Then why does she look at you like that in the pictures?”

Y/n didn’t have an answer to that.

And truthfully, Y/n didn’t know how to act around Wonyoung after that night.

The game had rules. Rules she made. But she was breaking them just as much as her.

And now? Now Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about the way she kissed her. Not in front of cameras, not under the eyes of strangers—but after. That split second where her gaze had lingered, like she was questioning it too.

It wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Y/n didn’t see Wonyoung until three days later.

She showed up unannounced, knocking at Y/n’s apartment door like she hadn’t turned her entire world upside down.

“Let’s go out,” she said as soon as the tall woman opened the door.

Y/n blinked. “What?”

“Let’s go out,” Wonyoung repeated, stepping inside without waiting for permission. She was wearing an oversized hoodie and a baseball cap, casual enough that she could blend into a crowd. “No cameras, no industry people. Just us.”

“…Is this a test?”

The woman rolled her eyes, plopping onto Y/n’s couch. “We always hang out outside of the game. Why are you acting weird?”

Y/n folded her arms. “I don’t know, maybe because you kissed me in front of an entire party?”

Wonyoung didn’t flinch. Didn’t look guilty. But she did hesitate—just for a fraction of a second.

“That was necessary,” she said smoothly. “People were watching.”

“Was it also necessary to hold my hand when no one was looking?” Y/n shot back.

That finally made her pause.

Y/n watched as the woman bit her lip, her usual confidence faltering. Then, just as quickly, she plastered on an easy smile. “You’re overthinking things.”

“I don’t think I am.”

A beat of silence.

Then, softer—almost like she was testing the words, Wonyoung said:

“…Do you want to stop?”

Y/n swallowed.

She should’ve said yes.

Y/n should’ve reminded her of Rule #3—the moment one of them wanted out, the game ended, no hard feelings.

But instead, Y/n found herself shaking her head.

“…No.”

Wonyoung exhaled, as if she hadn’t realized she was holding her breath.

“Good,” she murmured, standing up and grabbing Y/n’s wrist. “Because I still need you.”

Wonyoung pulled her out the door before Y/n could process what that meant.

———————-

That night, they walked through the city like they used to—before the game, before the rules. Just two people, laughing, stealing bites of each other’s street food, teasing like nothing had changed.

Except something had.

Because this time, when Wonyoung looped her arm through Y/n’s, it wasn’t for show. When she rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder while they sat by the Han River, watching the city lights flicker against the water, there were no cameras, no audience.

And when she whispered, almost absentmindedly,

“This feels nice.”

Y/n knew she wasn’t talking about the night.

She was talking about them.

————————

It was getting harder to pretend.

The game had rules, but neither of them were following them anymore.

Somewhere between the staged hand-holding and the stolen glances that lasted too long, Y/n stopped knowing what was real and what wasn’t. Wonyoung was still Wonyoung—dazzling, confident, untouchable. But now, when she reached for her, when she leaned against her like it was the most natural thing in the world, there was a hesitation in her eyes.

A question neither of them dared to ask.

And yet, neither of them wanted to stop.

The moment everything cracked was late one evening at her apartment.

Y/n had stopped by after practice, both too tired to go out, too comfortable to part ways just yet. The city outside was alive with its usual neon glow, but inside, the world was still.

Wonyoung was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone with one hand while the other absentmindedly traced circles against Y/n’s wrist. A habit she had picked up without realizing.

Neither of them spoke. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was easy. Familiar.

And that was the problem.

Because this wasn’t supposed to feel like home.

“Do you ever think about what would happen if we actually dated?”

The question slipped out before Y/n could stop it.

Wonyoung’s hand stilled against her skin.

Y/n felt her tense, though Wonyoung kept her gaze on her phone. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n lied. “Just wondering.”

A pause.

Then, finally, Wonyoung looked up at her.

There was something unreadable in her expression. “We’d be a disaster.”

Y/n let out a short laugh. “Wow, don’t sugarcoat it or anything.”

“I’m serious.” Wonyoung sat up, setting her phone aside. “Dating me is… complicated. You know that.”

Y/n knew. Of course, she knew. Wonyoung was always in the spotlight. Always under scrutiny. Loving her wouldn’t be easy.

But the way she said it—like she was warning you like she was warning herself—made Y/n’s chest tighten.

“…What if it wasn’t?” The woman asked, her voice quieter now.

Wonyoung exhaled, running a hand through her hair. For a second, she looked like she wanted to say something—something real—but then she shook her head, forcing a small smile.

“We’re just playing a game,” she reminded Y/n.

Right.

A game.

Then why did it feel like neither of them were winning?

Y/n tried to push the conversation out of her head. She really did.

But it lingered. It followed her into every interaction, every moment where Wonyoung touched her like she didn’t mean it, only to pull away like she did.

And then, one night, she broke the one rule Y/n thought she’d never break.

It happened after an award show.

The after-party was buzzing, music loud, the air thick with champagne and flashing lights. Wonyoung had been by Y/n’s side all night, as expected, playing the role of the perfect girlfriend.

But something was different.

She was closer than usual. Her fingers traced absent patterns against Y/n’s palm when she held her hand. Her laughter was softer, almost shy, every time the tall woman leaned in to whisper something in her ear.

And then, when she thought no one was watching, she kissed Y/n.

Not for show. Not because she had to.

Just because she wanted to.

Y/n’s breath hitched. Wonyoung pulled back just slightly, her forehead resting against hers.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, barely above a whisper, she asked,

“Can we pretend for just a little longer?”

And against all logic, against every alarm blaring in Y/n’s head—

But then, instead of doing what her head was telling her, Y/n found herself whispering back,

“Okay.”

———————-

It was getting harder to ignore.

The way Wonyoung reached for Y/n when she didn’t have to. The way she lingered a second too long when Y/n said goodbye. The way her fingers curled around hers absentmindedly, as if she had forgotten this was supposed to be fake.

And worst of all? The way Y/n let her.

Because she was just as guilty.

Every time Wonyoung smiled at Y/n like she was her world, every time she whispered her name in a way that made Y/n’s heart stutter—she let herself believe it. Even if it was just for a moment. Even if Y/n knew better.

They were past the point of pretending.

The next time it happened, there were no cameras. No eyes watching. No need for a performance.

It was late—far past midnight. The city had settled into a quiet hum, the world outside slipping into that space between exhaustion and peace.

Wonyoung had invited Y/n over after another event, neither of them ready to part ways just yet. She had changed out of her elegant dress into an oversized sweater, her bare feet curled beneath her as she sat beside Y/n on the couch.

She looked different like this. Softer.

Less like Jang Wonyoung, the idol, and more like just Wonyoung.

“You’re staring,” Wonyoung murmured, not looking away from the TV.

“You make it hard not to,” Y/n admitted.

Wonyoung’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was something different in it—something almost hesitant.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the quiet hum of the movie playing in the background, long forgotten.

Then, Wonyoung shifted. Slowly, deliberately, she turned toward Y/n, her eyes searching Y/n’s for something the other woman wasn’t sure she could give her.

“…Can I ask you something?” Wonyoung said softly.

Y/n nodded.

She hesitated. Then—

“What if we stopped pretending?”

Y/n’s heart stopped.

Everything stilled.

Wonyoung’s fingers curled around the fabric of her sweater like she was bracing for something. “I know what I said before,” she continued voice barely above a whisper. “That it was just a game. That we wouldn’t cross that line.”

A pause.

“But I think I already have.”

The weight of her words pressed against Y/n’s chest, leaving her breathless.

She should’ve responded. She should’ve said something—anything. But all Y/n could do was look at Wonyoung, the girl who had blurred the lines between reality and fiction until they didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

And then, before Y/n could think, before she could stop herself—

Y/n closed the distance between them.

The kiss wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t careful, wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t for anyone else but them.

It was real.

Wonyoung exhaled against Y/n’s lips, her fingers threading through the tall woman’s hair, pulling her closer. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the rumors. Not the game. Not the fear of what came next.

Just Y/n.

Just this.

And maybe—just maybe—this had never been a game at all.

Bonus Chapter:

Wonyoung was terrible at being subtle.

Y/n realized this when she started looking at her differently. When she stopped letting go of her hand, even when no one was watching. When she stole her hoodies, despite having an entire designer wardrobe at her disposal.

When Yujin caught the two of them in the middle of one of their not-so-fake-anymore moments and smirked like she had known all along.

“You’re both so obvious,” she had said, arms crossed, amusement written all over her face.

Wonyoung, who was currently wearing Y/n’s sweater, sitting way too close to her on the couch, blinked innocently. “What do you mean?”

Yujin raised an eyebrow. “You’re literally wearing her clothes.”

“So?”

“And you’re looking at her like they hung the stars in the sky.”

Wonyoung opened her mouth to argue—but then promptly shut it.

Y/n tried to hide her laugh.

Yujin just rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t even know why you two pretended for so long.”

Wonyoung hesitated at that. Her fingers curled slightly against Y/n’s sleeve, her usual confidence wavering for just a second.

“…I think I was scared,” she admitted quietly.

Y/n glanced at her, surprised by the honesty.

Yujin, too, seemed taken aback. Her teasing expression softened. “Of what?”

Wonyoung’s grip on you tightened. She didn’t look away when she said,

“Of it being real.”

The words hung in the air. Heavy. Honest.

And then, before Y/n could respond, Wonyoung turned to her, her gaze warm in that way that still made Y/n’s heart skip a beat.

“But I’m not scared anymore,” she added, softer now.

Something inside Y/n melted.

Yujin groaned. “Okay, that’s cute, but I’m leaving before you guys start making heart eyes at each other.”

Wonyoung laughed, leaning into Y/n’s side. “Too late.”

As Yujin left, muttering something about “sickeningly in love people”, Wonyoung turned back to the tall woman, her smile still lingering.

“So,” she mused, lacing her fingers through Y/n’s. “What do we do now?”

Y/n squeezed Wonyoung’s hand, letting her thumb brush over her knuckles.

“Whatever we want,” she said.

And this time—

There were no more rules.

[itsacruelsummerbaby]

THE PATH WE CHOOSE

There’s a group of girls who only audit his class because of him–you’re one of them. But with you, there’s a pull, one he wants to resist so he can make you a proper student of his.

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader || tags: post-prison!Spencer, fem!reader, age gap, professor-student relationship || wc: 3.2k || navigation

It’s quite a big disappointment to find out you are only attending his classes as a guest to see him, not because you’re that interested in the topic. But he can’t be mad at you, he’s far too gone in a fantasy world to care about the why; all that matters is that you’re there, looking at him with those beautiful wide, shining eyes, occasionally biting on those rosy lips of yours.

What he would give to have a taste of them.

But then he manages to swim back to the surface from the depths of his thoughts, returning his focus on the class. The class that’s full of young women who are sitting in the front row with that dreamy look on their faces, admittedly auditing probably just to see him. Is his subject really so boring? To him, it’s everything but, yet the number of actual students is concerning. It’s easy to wonder what’s the point of this.

Surprisingly, he grew to enjoy teaching, which always makes him smile, because over ten years ago he would have freaked out in front of a crowd like this. But spending time with his second family taught him a lot, it evolved his social skills, so now he was truly in his element here. Not as much as he was in the BAU, but enough to think about this as a permanent thing after leaving the team.

Because sooner or later it will happen, he can’t do that job forever. It’s too demanding, it’s too dangerous, and maybe one day he will wish for a simple life that doesn’t involve serial killers. Yes, if he keeps teaching, he will talk about them, but at least he wouldn’t be actively hunting them. That’s better. Safer. And maybe he can finally think about having a proper relationship, about marrying someone one day, or even about having a child, maybe…

It would be with you.

Damn it, no, stop, he tells his brain as he leans back in the chair in the bullpen, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. He’s been having these same thoughts since he last saw you in class a week ago, repeating in his mind over and over and over again like a broken record, plaguing every moment of his days and nights. He can’t remember ever being so obsessed with another human being, which sometimes truly scares him.

There will be a day when you won’t show up. There will be a class that will be the very last time he sees you, and the thought scares him. But if he could convince you to attend his class officially, not just auditing it, then he would have more time to spend with you. And more time can give him the chance to show you just how good he could be to you.

Oh, come on, stop already, he practically yells at himself on the inside.

“Is everything okay?” Penelope’s cheerful voice is acting like a beacon that shows him the way back to reality, and when he looks over at her, refusing–or rather not really knowing how–to answer, she playfully boops his nose with the top of her pen. “Alright, genius, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m just… It’s a student I can’t stop thinking about.” With a dramatic hum, she sits on the edge of his desk and twirls the pen in her hand as she waits for him to continue. “I’m not an idiot, I know perfectly well there is a group of girls who are only auditing my class because they think I’m “cute” as one proper student pointed out a few weeks ago,” he begins to explain.

Before he can move on, Penelope’s eyes widen as she gasps. “She’s one of them, isn’t she? Because she must be one of those girls, otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it,” she points out.

He closes his eyes as he leans back, then lets out an annoyed groan. It’s not directed at his friend, more like at the situation in general. Why can’t he simply forget you exist? It would make things so much easier, but no, his memory is forcing him to remember everything about you.

In the end, he looks back at his friend, but before he could say anything, she lets out a laugh. “Oh, wait, you actually like this girl, don’t you?” Penelope asks, leaning down so she can keep her voice down. “Oh, my God, this is so adorable. What’s her name? I want to know everything about her, and you know how good I am at this.”

That’s true; she’s the master of snooping around, finding out everything about people from behind the computer screen, and if she wants to help, who is he to stop her? Maybe she will find a dark secret that can finally make him forget about you, although deep down he highly doubts it could work.

Less than half an hour later he leans back in the swivel chair in Penelope’s office, staring at the ceiling as he tries to process what she has found out about you. There was no dark secret, not even a simple red flag, you’re just as perfect as you look. You have excellent grades, you’ve been playing lacrosse since high school, and you’re working at a vet clinic after school.

“She’s smart, kind, and pretty. So, if she’s not a student of yours, maybe you could ask her out,” Penelope suggests, earning a surprised look from him. “I know, I know, she’s a little younger than you–”

“A little?” Spencer asks with a doubtful edge to his voice.

“Listen, I’m saying this as your friend. There’s a girl who obviously likes you, one who’s probably intelligent enough to keep up with your beautiful brain, you should give this a chance. Just one date, that’s all.”

He exhales slowly as he thinks, trying hard to decide what to do. “Maybe you’re right,” he begins, and Penelope squeals from happiness, which he shuts down with a raised hand, “but she also seems interested in the class. She answers if I ask them a question, she’s taking notes, so if I can convince her to take the class properly, she might choose this career in the end.”

His friend only rolls her eyes. “Right. You really want her to choose her career over you?” she wonders.

Spencer nods. “She’s talented, it would be a shame if she wasted it just to be with me.”

“You’re my best friend, you know that, but right now you’re an idiot. Do what you want, don’t get me wrong, but in the end you’ll regret choosing this path with her,” she tells him with a shrug.

With a sigh, he looks up at the ceiling. Maybe there is no right choice, maybe it doesn’t matter what he does, the result will be the same. If he asked you out, then what? You can still say no and break his heart with that. “I’m screwed,” he mutters as he closes his eyes.

Don’t get too hooked on his stupidly handsome features and beautiful brain. 

As you’re sitting in your car in the parking lot, your forehead resting against the steering wheel, you keep repeating this sentence like a mantra. Maybe if you say it enough times, you will be able to resist his charm. 

Dr. Spencer Reid is the bane of your existence, the reason why you can’t sleep at night, why you’re losing your grip on reality. These days you’ve been daydreaming more and more often, imagining a life where he genuinely cares about you, where you’re his girlfriend. 

It’s ridiculous, you know it, and you should get him out of your mind, especially because he’s your professor. He’s off-limits. But how? You don’t know what could be the best solution, the medicine to your suffering. 

You’re knocked out of your thoughts by a sudden knock on the window. “Fuck,” you mutter with a groan.

Jonah is watching you with a huge smile on his face, even waving at you before signaling to get out of the vehicle. You inhale and exhale to push your previous thoughts aside, then open the door to do as he wishes. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks while you lock the car.

You nod, then begin to follow him towards the entrance of the building, feeling as your heart rate keeps crawling higher and higher. You don’t want to go to class, not today, not when you’re ovulating and have all those nasty thoughts about the guy who’s gonna talk in the next hour and half. 

“You know what I still can’t wrap my head around? Why are you attending Dr. Reid’s class?” he brings up the topic you would rather avoid. 

Since your answer isn’t the one he would probably like to hear, you just shrug. “I don’t know, maybe I just wanna know if I should take it next semester,” you lie.

But is it really a lie? 

He lets out a thoughtful hum while you both occupy your usual places in the second row. It’s close, but not too close. Just perfect. You take out your laptop from its case, but before you could open it, you freeze, because you can hear the chatter around you die, and you feel a pair of eyes on you–and it’s not your friend’s.

No, these are the beloved professor’s hazel eyes, and when you raise your gaze to meet his own, the murmurs around you fade away, making it feel like it’s just the two of you there. But it doesn’t last long, he quickly looks down at his watch, then claps his hands once to get the class’s attention. 

Half an hour later a chat message pops up on your laptop, and you glance at your friend when you see he’s the one who chose this silent way of communication. 

Jonah: Are you sure you’re not just trying to please Reid to get his attention by being active during class despite not going for the grades?  Jonah: No shaming, he’s good-looking in a nerdy way, I get it if you’re head over heels for the guy. You: I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s an interesting topic, I can’t help myself. Also, he’s not my type.

A big fat lie. Bravo.

Jonah: Sure. 

Blowing out the air you’ve been subconsciously holding, you shake your head and return your attention to the lecture. It’s another anecdote, the story of a dangerous serial killer, a cannibal, no less. 

Jonah: Have you noticed that he keeps looking at you? Or am I just seeing this because we’re talking about him?

You shoot him an angry look, then simply close the messaging app. But he doesn’t give up, your phone starts buzzing, the screen lighting up to show you the previews of his messages.

During today’s class, Spencer often has a brief second when he forgets what he was talking about. It doesn’t last long, his students probably don’t even notice the brief break in his speech, but to him, this equals a disaster. He’s not like this, he doesn’t just trail off for no reason.

Well, okay, not for no reason. All he can think about whenever his eyes fall on you are Penelope’s words.

Is convincing you to take his class properly the right choice? She was right, he feels something, a pull that can’t be ignored that easily, and if a day when you’re not simply auditing his class comes, he would lose his chance to ask you out on a date. You would be his student, so he would have to face the consequences if he dared to make a move on you. 

But then he asks a question, and you’re one of the three students who bother to raise their hands. He doesn’t miss the way the young man on your right snickers at the sight of you being so involved, but he can also see you shoot a warning look at him. It’s hard not to wonder what this is all about, what previous conversation triggered this silent exchange–because there had to be a reason. 

In the next few milliseconds, he has to make a choice. Should he ask you? He wants to see if you got the answer right, but at the very same time he has his doubts about talking to you. 

He has never done that, and he has no idea what it would lead to. Would he simply fall deeper into this rabbit hole of emotions? Would his voice give away that he’s uncertain about everything when it comes to you?

In the end, he gathers the strength to say your name.

And you got it right. Oh, that beautiful brain of yours. 

Years of training led to an annoying habit, though. He instinctively profiles people in situations, just like he’s profiling you now while moving on with today’s lecture. He could hear that slight tremble in your voice which gave away that you were nervous–was it because you weren’t sure about the answer, or because you had to talk to him? 

For the rest of the class, he tries to focus on what he has to say, doing his best not to look at you, but it’s hard. The temptation is there, and after a while he finds himself scanning the crowd of students only for his gaze to linger a second too long where you’re sitting. When your eyes meet, you bite on your lower lip and look down at your laptop. 

He eventually dismisses the class, but then he opens his mouth and your name spills out without a warning. You look surprised, and for a moment he wonders if he made the right call. What should he bring up? His plan to convince you to take his class properly, or to ask you out on a date? 

Maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. 

Every fiber in your body wants to run as far from him as possible. He’s a profiler–a really good one–he definitely notices simple things like someone having a crush on them. You’re not even sure if you can keep up a conversation with him for longer than a minute before your thoughts trail off, moving on to his sharp jawline you love so much. 

You’re only a visitor here, if he finds you have a crush on him, he might ask you not to come back. But how could you stay away when seeing him is like a drug, giving you the kind of sweet high that can recharge your batteries faster than anything? 

Your legs are shaking as you move closer to him, but you focus on your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. And again. And again. It can’t be that bad, it’s just a brief conversation. Yes, that’s what you have to focus on. Inhale. Exhale. And repeat. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks you when you get close enough. 

Nodding, you gulp and pull on the strap of your laptop bag over your shoulder. “Is something wrong, Professor Reid?” 

He hesitates for a moment, or so you think it’s hesitation, and then he licks his lips, a move that sparks your imagination. No, no, you shouldn’t think about what you want that tongue to lick, or what he must taste like. Stop, enough, you tell yourself. You take a deep breath as you wait, your heart beating so fast it might jump out of your ribcage.

“There’s something I don’t understand,” he begins as he folds his arms over his chest. “You’re taking notes, you’re interacting in class, you remember things, yet you’re only auditing this class. Why don’t you take it properly? You’re good, you would get good grades, or,” he says, but trails off.

What is it that he wanted to say? “Or?” you say, the words coming out before you could stop yourself.

Dr. Reid lets out a sigh as he rests his hips against the edge of his desk. “You have talent, you would be a good profiler,” he admits. 

That’s flattering, really, but not what you want to hear. 

“Look, why don’t you take my class next semester? Until then, you could join us for a summer internship at the FBI,” he suggests casually.

Your eyes widen from surprise, because that you haven’t expected. Wow, an internship? And what was that us? Did he mean the FBI in general, or his team, the BAU? If it was the latter, that would be the coolest thing ever. Except… 

Except you would spend more time by his side. Pure torture. 

You take a deep breath, then somehow manage to force yourself to look at him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” At first, he gives you a surprised look, but then a barely visible smile appears on his lips as he nods. “Where do I apply for that internship?”

“I’ll help you from the inside and get everything ready. Hopefully you’ll only have to take care of the paperwork,” he explains. 

There’s something about his voice, the way it becomes just a tad bit higher, his speech speeding up more and more with each word he says, and there’s a slight tremble from either nervousness or excitement. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounds exactly like a guy who’s talking to his crush for the first time to ask her out. But could that be the case? It seems highly unlikely, it must be your imagination.

The offer is nice, though. You’re only doing this because it would be nice to work there.

Great. Now you’re lying to yourself too.

Back in his office, Spencer picks up his phone from the desk and looks for Penelope’s contact. It’s her fault, the least she can do is listen to his ramblings about what he’s just done. It rings once, twice, at the third ring he begins to wonder why she’s not picking up, but then he hears her cheerful voice and lets out the air he’s been holding. 

“Remember that girl from my class? I think I just promised to get her an internship at the BAU,” he says quickly. 

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a few moments, but then she goes, “Oh, Spencer, when I told you to ask her out, I mean dinner, or a movie, not a summer internship she can spend by your side.”

He lets his forehead hit the desk with a loud thud. “I’m an idiot.”

“When it comes to her? Yes, you are,” Penelope agrees, then lets out a sigh. “Okay, why don’t you come over tonight? We could order something to eat and watch a movie. And we can talk about her if you feel like it.”

“Sure,” he agrees, even though he just wants to crawl into a hole and die right now.