#and that he wanted them to tell him EVERYTHING wink wink hint hint nudge nudge

[nico-di-genova]

BOYFRIEND CODED

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Engagement Party

Season Three Episode Four

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 2526

Series Masterlist

Summary: After harrowing events have left everyone drained, the team takes the time to celebrate their favorite engaged couple. 

Notes: This is my apology for next week. 

-

It was supposed to be a surprise but thanks to Aaron’s warning and Penelope’s less-than-subtle hints about the night’s ‘dinner party,’ you knew at least somewhat what you were getting yourselves into. 

“Are you ready?” You asked, helping Spencer out of the car. 

He winced. “Do we have to?” Parties weren’t exactly his thing- especially if he was at the center of it. 

“You know Penelope would kill us if we bailed. She’s worked so hard on all of this. She even convinced Dave to let us use his house.” You kissed his cheek. “Besides, it’ll be fun.” 

Spencer counted the cars in the driveway. Everyone was here. They must all be waiting inside. 

You spotted Aaron’s car and swallowed. 

You hadn’t spoken to your brother since you found out he stepped down as Unit Chief. When you talked to Derek- his choice for command- you could tell that he was worried. Aaron was getting reckless, he was getting desperate. It scared you. 

But tonight wasn’t about that. 

Tonight was about you and Spencer and celebrating with the people you loved. 

“You okay?” Spence asked, grabbing your hand through the gap in his crutches. 

You gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s go before the pasta gets cold, huh?” 

Rossi was at the door before you even got a chance to knock. “I was wondering when you two would finally show up. Garcia is driving me crazy.” 

He smiled and ushered you inside. 

You and Spencer exchanged a look and you gave his hand another squeeze. 

“So what’s the occasion for the, um, dinner party,” Reid asked, straining the last two words.

“I’ll let them tell you.” Rossi turned on the lights in the kitchen. 

“Surprise!” A chorus of cheers erupted at you as the whole team jumped out from behind the counter. 

You both put on your best 'shocked' faces.

“Oh my god you guys,” you beamed. “This is amazing.”

“And totally unexpected,” Spence said in a less than convincing tone. 

You nudged his side. 

Penelope hurried around the counter and pulled the two of you into a hug. 

“I am so so happy for you two,” she gushed. “We all wanted to do something since you didn’t really get to celebrate before.” 

“Getting attacked by a serial killer tends to dampen the spirit,” you muttered. 

Spence glanced at you. 

You did that sometimes. Hid things behind the idea of insignificance or humor to make it feel less real. He let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead. 

“What are we waiting for, let’s get this party started!” You cheered, stepping out of your fiance’s concerned, caring hold. 

Emily poured the sparkling cider while Derek dished up the salad for you. 

“Breaking my heart, Professor Hot Stuff,” he teased. 

“Oh, Agent Morgan,” you laid a hand on his cheek. “It never would have worked out between us.” 

Derek chuckled and pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek. “Congratulations, Y/N.” 

You finished piling dinner onto your plate and sat at the table next to JJ and Will. 

Spencer watched you from across the dining room. He couldn’t help but admire your smile, your laugh as you joked with the blonde agent, the way your hair reflected the lights of the chandelier. 

Your smile was genuine, your laugh full. 

Even in the darkness of everything, you managed to be a light. His light. 

“She’s really something, huh?” Rossi said, handing Reid a glass of cider. 

“Yeah.” Reid smiled. “She’s everything.” 

Rossi chuckled and pat the younger agent on the back. “Ah, young love.” He gave him a teasing wink. “Makes me nauseous. Let’s join the others.” 

Spencer laughed and followed him out to the table where he sat between Morgan and Hotch, across from where you were telling JJ about how he’d tried to bring you breakfast one morning, but because of his crutches he ended up dropping the tray on you while you were sleeping.

“It’s the thought that counts, right?” You snickered. 

“Sure, make fun of the crippled guy. It’s not like he was injured in the line of duty or anything,” Spence fired back, lightly kicking you with his good leg under the table. 

“I know that Dr. Barton is certainly thankful it was your leg and not his head,” JJ said, taking a drink of her water. 

“I’d be thankful if you didn’t almost die every few months,” you muttered, smirking. 

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Coming from you?”

You both laughed, joined by the others at the table. It was a kind of humor that only they could appreciate. They knew how important it was to make light of your lives every once in a while- even if it meant making light of the moments your lives almost ended. 

The only one who didn’t laugh was Aaron. He smiled a little, but you see the tension in his shoulders and in the way he held his fork. 

He was thinking about Foyet. About you lying on the floor next to him, bleeding out. 

So you raised your glass in his direction. 

“To beating the odds and to surviving when we probably shouldn’t have,” you said. He lifted his eyes to yours and you gave him a reassuring nod. “And to the people who help us through it afterward.” 

“Here here,” Emily cheered. 

Everyone raised their glasses, Aaron being the last. 

Your brother watched you for a moment and something passed between you. An odd mix of hope and fear that only something like this- after what you’d been through- could bring about. He was thrilled you were happy and he didn’t want anything to hurt you ever again. 

You mouthed that three-word phrase and clinked your glass against his. 

“I love you too,” Aaron whispered. 

Dinner passed in casual conversation, laughter, and many teasing remarks from Derek and Penelope. You helped JJ clear the plates and noticed that people had started whispering. 

Every time you tried to catch Penelope and Emily in their secret conversation, they just smiled and waved innocently at you. 

You gave them a glare and a hand motion that said ‘I’m watching you.’ 

They batted their lashes like they had no idea what you meant.

You just smiled and shook your head. 

“Is there something about tonight that I don’t know about?” You asked JJ once you were both taking dishes to the kitchen. 

She simply shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She checked her watch. “But if you could go sit with your fiance right now, that would be great.” 

“You know surprises aren’t either of our thing, right?”

“I told you.” JJ winked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shooed you away and you found that Derek had moved, leaving the seat next to Spencer empty. 

You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “They’re planning something else.”

“Yeah.” He turned to you and spoke through a smile. “I got that when we walked in the door.” 

“I’m starting to rethink your idea of running.” 

He laughed and took your hand. “It’s too late now. We just have to endure it.” 

Right as he said it, a song began over the speakers. 

“Now I… had… the time of my life.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, putting a hand over your mouth to contain your laughter. 

“What?” Spencer looked around, confused. “I don’t get it. What’s the song?”

Your mouth fell open. “You’ve never seen Dirty Dancing?”

He gave you his usual thin-lipped smile and shook his head. 

“I know what we’re doing on our honeymoon.” 

“I don’t think movies are the traditional route.” Spence leaned over and kissed you, taking you by surprise. He wasn’t usually one for public displays of affection, but the way he smiled when he pulled back gave you butterflies. 

Emily, JJ, and Penelope all came out of the kitchen at the chorus, belting at the top of their lungs. 

“Because I had the time of my life!” They all sang, working together to carry the biggest cookie you’d ever seen in your life. It was chocolate chip, with frosting written across the top. 

Congrats Y/N and Spencer! 

Beneath the lettering, two ring pops were stuck into the cookie, blue and red. 

“What is this?” Spencer laughed. 

Morgan came up behind him to russell his hair. “Congratulations, Lover-Boy.” 

By the next chorus, everyone was singing-even Aaron, with a grin that was becoming rarer and rarer anymore. 

“Come on.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand and pulled him out of the chair, letting him put his weight on you instead of his bad leg. You waved to everyone else. “If we’re doing this, so are all of you.” 

You led Spencer and the rest of the group to the back patio where you could still hear the music, and you started to dance. 

For Spence, of course, it was more swaying than anything else, but you spun and dipped and circled around him, making him grin wider than you thought was possible. 

He spun you into his arms and held you there, moving with the music as it changed into something slower. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

You kissed him, not caring that everyone was still dancing around you- even when you heard Derek’s slow whistle. You just flipped him off over Spence’s shoulder and smiled against your fiance’s lips. 

Eventually, the music died down and you stood in the middle of the patio, forehead pressed against Spencer’s, looking into each other’s eyes. As the beat vanished, it was replaced by the tapping of a glass. 

Penelope stood with a tray full of more sparkling cider, tapping one of the flutes with a knife. 

“If the two of you thought you were getting out of this without speeches, you are very mistaken,” she grinned.

“Penelope, that’s what vows are for,” you laughed. 

“Yes, well, we can work on those later.” She handed out the flutes, ending with the two of you. “Now profess your love, my loves.” 

Everyone stood around you, smiling and waiting. 

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this.” You kept an arm around Spencer to support him without his crutches, your fingers gripping his shirt to support your nerves. “Clearly, I didn’t have anything prepared, so thank you, Penelope.” 

“Yes, thanks Garcia,” Spencer laughed. 

“You’re so very welcome.” She waved a hand for you to continue. 

A round of snickers circled around and you took a deep breath. 

“I guess,” you took a step back so you could hold up your glass to the man beside you, “A toast to Dr. Spencer Reid. Someone who has not only become the person I want to be with for forever, but who has anchored me through the stormiest seas. He is a light in the darkness, a voice in the terrifying quiet.” You found yourself blinking back tears, struggling to get your words out. “Spencer, there aren’t the words to describe exactly what you’ve done for me or even begin to express how I feel, so I’ll start with these: I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid and thank you for showing me what it’s like to be loved the way you love me.” 

Even Dave was dabbing his eyes when you were finished, everyone listening intently and contently. 

Spencer kissed you without hesitating, his emotions taking over. 

You pulled back, smirking. “If I have to, you have to.” 

“I know, I know.” He kissed you again quickly. He paused. He took a drink. He cleared his throat. 

“Come on, Boy Genius. It takes way more than this to shut you up,” Morgan teased. 

Emily elbowed him. 

Spencer inhaled sharply, looking down at the ground to not psych himself out. 

“I used to think that love- attraction, romance, intimacy- were all chemicals in our brains in order to ensure procreation. I know now that that can’t possibly be true.” He swallowed and looked back at you. “Because you have taken so much more than my mind. Everything I am is yours.” Spencer held you a little closer. “We all know how short life is. How uncertain everything can be.” He held up his glass. “So, to Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.  I don’t want to spend another minute not spending my life with you.” 

You came together for another passionate kiss and everyone cheered. 

The music started up again. 

It took a few moments of celebrating for Spencer to realize you weren’t next to him anymore. 

With everyone dancing and celebrating, he slipped off to find you, feeling Hotch’s eyes on him as he left. 

You were sitting on the front steps, tears streaming down your cheeks, your hand searching for the necklace that wasn’t there. 

“That’s definitely not the reaction I was hoping for,” Spence said, sitting down beside you. He took your hand. “What is it?” 

“It’s like you said. Life is so uncertain. You almost died of anthrax. I almost died on my birthday- twice. I mean, Hayley isn’t here because she had to be put in protective custody from the man who almost killed me and my brother. The man who took the gift you gave me for my graduation.” You laid your hand flat on your collarbone. 

Spencer frowned. “You didn’t tell me that.” 

“It’s what he took. The souvenir he’ll put on his next victim.” You leaned forward, arms on your knees. “I know it’s such a stupid thing to be upset about, but I loved that necklace, and now…” You trailed off, shoulders slumped. You gave him a small smile. “Sorry.”

Spencer laid a hand on your cheek. “Don’t be.” 

You pressed your lips to his palm. “I promise, it’s been a great night. I guess it just hits me sometimes.” 

He tucked a hair behind your ear and shifted so he was standing again. 

“I hope it’s not too much for one more thing.” 

You tilted your head. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, as Garcia pointed out, last time, things didn’t end up going the way we thought they would. And I know our lives are far from normal.” Spencer put a shaky hand in his pocket.

Why was he so nervous? 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t already said yes. 

“But I thought I’d try at least one thing that was traditional.” 

Spencer got down on his good knee, holding on to the rail with one hand, and pulling a small box out of his pocket with the other. 

You gasped as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. Vintage with a diamond surrounded by sapphire.

“Spence-”

“Do you like it? I found it at an antique store and it made me think of you and-”

You interrupted him by nearly tackling him, pressing your lips to his. 

“They’re over here!” Emily’s voice called. She grinned down at you. “Oh god, am I interrupting something?” 

The rest of the group all rushed around the corner to join her. 

You both glanced around at the people who meant more than any toast could describe. Your eyes met your brother’s. 

And he smiled.

-

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird; @ jjunebug; @ xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx; @ lillianacristina

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Man Down ~ B.A.

A/n: I haven’t watched the show in a long enough time that I forgot all the crisis events and I don’t want to go back and watch any of them soooo I just made it Savitar era centered. Hints of Savitar x reader like. Everywhere. Sorry about that lol

Request: “...Barry x male reader, reader gets hurt trying to protect Barry during a crisis event?” By anon

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

When Caitlyn sat down next to me, we both knew it was too late, but I admired her for trying anyway. Even before she spoke, I knew what she was going to say. I could tell in the way her lips curved into a frown and her wide eyes begged, but her words had no energy to them, that she knew it too. That she recognized the way I was acting. That she saw through my calm and comforting and reassurance. My hopelessness underneath, mourning so much more than Iris West’s death.

Mourning my own.

It had been months of fighting back Savitar. So long trying to save Iris’ life. To change the future. They’d made some progress here and there, but…. Ultimately not enough. It was obvious that Barry wouldn’t be able to stop it. Wouldn’t be able to save her. And Barry Allen couldn’t live without Iris West.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep them together?

A different back and forth had been happening, other than the battle of wills between Barry and his time duplicate. A battle of love. For years, I’d longed for Barry to stop looking at his best friend and to pay attention to me. To level those adoring eyes and loving gazed onto me instead of her. He never did. Sometimes I thought he might, almost like he was considering it. Just like the days that Iris almost paid attention to Barry. Almost saw him as something other than a brother, as she had decided he was. Almost.

Almost only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades, as the song goes. So I’d decided that if it came down to it - me or her - Barry would chose her. He already had, and he would again. He would be mad at me for doing this. He would be so, so angry. But he’d get over it eventually. He’d move on and reconcile. They’d fall in love one day. There was a newspaper by line proving it. He would be happy with her. One day his almost would turn into an absolute. He might not forget his friend, who had once been, but he would be happier in the end if this was me instead of her.

So I would die instead.

“Please don’t do it.”

I smiled when Caitlyn finally spoke. It was a lie when I smiled, when I looked at her with confusion. “Do what?”

Her gaze bore into mine. “I don’t know.” There was already mourning in her tone. Oh Caitlyn… poor Caitlyn. How much had she lost? How many? My one regret - I could t spare my other friends from my loss. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you’ve been acting different. And it’s worrying me.”

I looked away, face scrunched as I worked on the design Cisco had asked me to work on. He had a new suit idea for the future, and being more gifted with a needle than him, I was usually the one he went to. I hoped to finish it before it was too late. Now it was an easy thing to focus on. To play casual with. “You worry too much Caitlyn.” A boldfaced lie. We all knew she worried exactly as much as she should. All her friends were suicidally wreckless. “I have no plans.” Another lie. I looked up at her, smiling again. “I’m worried about Iris too, but I know Barry will pull through. He always does.” I winked, nudging her. Too many lied for what was probably our last person to person conversation. “I promise, okay?”

She didn’t respond to that. She looked at the suit I was making. Like it was proof. And it was, in a way. Hadn’t I not been working on it this whole time? Hadn’t I said it would take me a while? Hadn’t I told Cisco it would be a while, with the little details I had to work out and all the stress around us? Too much stress, too much to do, not enough time to handle it all.

The fact that I was making time for this - I might have yelled it was my final act at the top of my lungs. Not that I had to, for the people that could see the unspoken words in the way I said goodbye and the words I didn’t say and the things I did or didn’t do. Not for people like Caitlyn. She would have always ended up here, unable to stop me but desperate to try, knowing I would do anything to save Barry from the agony he was facing. Knowing that I loved him enough to destroy myself.

Her best of all, who had seen it in her fiancé’s face the day he had promised to see her again, knowing he was doomed to die. Of Caitlyn. Poor, brilliant, amazing, wonderful Caitlyn. If only I could spare you from reliving this again…

I looked away, back toward my sewing. She didn’t believe me, we both knew it. But there was nothing else to be said. So we didn’t speak again, sitting in the last silence we’d get together. Too few days now until Iris was supposed to die. Until I would take her place instead.

-

“You know, it’s weird.” I looked up when Savatar spoke to me, no longer startled at the way he simply appeared in my room. He had been doing this since the day he had been exposed for who he was. The first time it had been terrifying, but it had soon become clear as to why he did it anyway, and over time I had gotten used to it.

“What’s weird?” I asked calmly, returning to my sewing. “The fact that you keep breaking into your future partner’s bedroom before even meeting in your own proper timeline, or the fact that I’m seeing a suit you don’t recognize?”

Savitar fought a smile. He was doom and gloom unless he was around me. Apparently in the future we fell in love or whatever. I couldn’t imagine knowing what I know now, and still falling in love with him. Knowing what he would do. Who he would become. How he would destroy the man I love now. Apparently, the future was a wild place. Or… would have been. How it’ll never have happened. Not for me and not for hun.

Perhaps we were soulmates after all.

“I knew I shouldn’t have reacted to that suit you’re making. Spoilers.”

I snorted, unable to handle the hilarity in a time duplicate coming backward in time to kill someone just to ensure his own existence, using Barry’s memories to put himself on top the whole time. He was a walking spoiler. His backstory alone was the most raw look into what was supposed to happen yet.

“So not the suit then,” I decided on, looping back to his original comment. “What’s weird?” I looked up at him briefly before returning to my work. I couldn’t help the tender spot I had for him. He was a darker, sadder Barry. All the same memories and expressions and body language but with more pain than even my Barry had. It was in my very blood and bones to want to cheer him up. To want to make it better. That I did understand. I knew that a future me would have carried that softness and kindness toward him. He had mention that was how he had fallen in love with me - the one who treated him like a person, who recognized and cared for him.

Perhaps that was how I managed to fall in love with him as well. The way that he was Barry enough to count, but different enough that it wasn’t bitter. Wasn’t overwhelming. Different enough that he wasn’t obsessed with Iris. We probably would have been happy.

Savitar watched me, as if studying me. “I love watching your mind work. All the things you never say that simply click together in your mind.” He swallowed, and I knew he was thinking about how much he missed me. Future me, who loved him without guilt. I wonder if he visited the older me when he wasn’t actively spending time taunting Barry and making plans to kill Iris. I wonder if future me knew where he was, what he was doing.

I sighed. He was right, I really did have too many thoughts to speak them out loud so rarely. He really did know me like no one else did. It was jarring. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s weird?”

His smile finally won out. It edged on a smirk, but was a little too soft around the edges while he looked at me. He looked so much less intimidating like this. So much more like Barry. “To see it happen like this. To see the seeds planted of our future even before we existed in the same way. To know you so deeply, when you don’t know me at all, knowing that later you’ll know me as deeply and I will be the one who’s surprised by it.” He sat down at the table across from me, studying my face. “I always wondered what it was like to go into a relationship knowing someone, hearing stories, being aware of the steps even before they happen. When I opened my eyes the first time and you smiled at me. When I realized that you were different, and I found out that you knew me all this time ago. I wondered if you started falling in love with me before I was created. I wondered if my coming back in time was an influence for you, as you being so familiar and comfortable with me so quickly was an influence for me. I had this idea in my mind that we were this never ending cycle. That we ended up together simply because we already knew we would end up together.”

My smile grew dry. “Time travel is a weird one,” I agreed. “And I can imagine what you mean. But… no. I don’t know when my future self fell in love with you, but it wasn’t now. It isn’t now for me at least. Maybe now that the future has changed it’ll be different.” I shrugged, not looking up. Thinking about how I would die, driven by my love for Barry. About how I would never get the chance to fall in love with Savitar to begin with.

His eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, catching my wrist. I looked up at him - and I saw it in his eyes. I saw the understanding and the accusation. I saw the rage there, as I’d seen it in Caitlyn. The mourning turning quickly to denial. To refusal. He saw my resolve, my plan, even though he couldn’t understand what it was or how I had come up with it. Why I had.

“What are you planning?” He demanded.

I met his eyes evenly, deflating a bit. It was harder to lie to this man. Not just because of his face, or his voice. Not just because he was so like Barry that he had a hold on me from day one. Now he was his own man, esperare from Barry, and he still had a hold on me. A part of me perhaps already did care for him. Perhaps that was the part that would have loved him one day. If we’d had the chance.

“I don’t have a plan.” My voice was even and unrelenting. His eyes flared with anger for a moment, and it seemed that he might lash out. But I was special to him. He didn’t know Iris, and he specifically hated Barry. Everyone else was lost to him. Strangers who estranged themselves. Who shut him out first. But me? I was supposed to be the love of his life. He couldn’t be the monster he became so easily around the others. The violence he didn’t struggle to harness for them was impossible with me. We both knew it. He melted, slowly at first but then very suddenly all at once. He fell from his chair, moving around the table at super speed to kneel in front of me. He turned my chair so that he could move close to me. His hands rested on my wrists, and he held my gaze. There was a deep desperation there. Pleading. Very like the look that Caitlyn had given me. “I don’t have your memories. I don’t remember what you did, or do, or how you change through time. I… I can only beg. I will do anything for you, just please let it happen.”

My frown twisted into almost a snarl. Almost. I couldn’t quite bring true bitterness to use against him either, as he could not summon violence against me. We were trapped in our love for each other. In our softness, at the very least. “Why would I do anything you asked me to?”

He searched my eyes, and then sighed with relief when he found it. Found the part of me still fighting to survive. He recognized that I hadn’t completely given up. Completely committed myself to death. What sentient creature didn’t have survival reflexes that fought to extend those last moments? Who didn’t cling to life, even when death was inevitable?

He saw that part of me that fought and he sought to encourage it. “You find love after him. You’re so happy with me. We get married in the place from your dream board. Every dream you had comes true. You have a whole life, Y/n. You have eternity. It feels like eternity for us. It feels like forever. Where I’m from, it’s only been a few years, but I’ve been to the future. I’m a hero because of you. I take Barry’s place. That horrible world that he created for a while, when he leaves everyone behind - I fill it. You help me. We become the new team Flash. It’s… it’s different,” and it’s a plea when he says it. A desperate sell to get me to see the future he does. To want it. To believe in it. To fight for it. Or, more accurately, to not fight because of it. To give up and let it all happen. “But it’s ours. He never loves you. He never will. But I will. I see what he doesn’t. What he won’t. And we’re so much happier than they ever could have been. We’re worth it. We’re worth this.”

I can’t help myself. Even for Savatar, who I want to hate, who I’m going to destroy, I can’t bring myself not to want to reassure him. As I reassured Caitlyn last time, and have reassured Harry and Cisco and Barry and Iris and even Joe. I lean close, and I press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter close and he leans into me, hands loosening their death grip as he melts into the affection. The first time I have showed it to him, as I am. A sign that I am capable of becoming the person who loves him. A beacon of hope I’m sure. I kiss him and I hold him when he leans into me and I close my eyes and, worst of all, I lie to him. “I won’t do it. I won’t do anything. I want that future with you. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to be with you.” And it isn’t a complete lie. There are truths there that ring in my voice, making it warmer and filling it with light and hope and joy.

Half lies are so much easier to believe.

And he does believe them.

Savitar leans away from me, a hand rising to push hair behind my ear as he looks into my gaze and sees tears. “Can I kiss you?” He asked this question only once, always seeking out how much affection he’s allowed to show me. Until now, I couldn’t face something like that. The betrayal to Barry that it would be. We barely got to hugging until tonight.

But tonight… I’m going to die for Barry. I’m going to give him the ultimate sacrifice for his happiness. I can be a little selfish. Take a small betrayal for myself.

“Yes,” I whisper. Savitar doesn’t wait to be told again - he just kisses me. He has been waiting for this and I can tell. I’ve been waiting for it too, and that takes me by surprise. This weird in between, where kissing him is the daydream of kissing Barry that I have king craved, but also something completely new and separate and not about Barry at all. The part of me that will always love Barry meets the part of me that finds it easier and easier to love Savitar and I finally understand. They are the same part. I never moved on from Barry to love Savitar. It was new and also the same. Me getting everything I ever wanted and also something completely different. Me holding onto what I’ve been holding onto since day one, but also letting it go too. I didn’t move on from Barry - it was like dating his brother or his best friend. It was unfair to Savitar and even more unfair to me.

This darker me with these far more selfish desires…. It was sickening to think about. How could I have done this?

Now it was clearer than ever that I was going to go with the plan I’d picked. I was sure. I wouldn’t become the person Savitar knew me as. I wouldn’t let that version of me win. Not this time. Not ever.

-

The device wrapped around my wrist, disguised as a bracelet, had a wire attached that ran underneath my long sleeve, up my arm to the power source on my chest. The full body machine had been beautifully effective in making me not only look like Iris West, but being one hundred convincing in proving that I was her. I could smell her perfume, reach up and almost feel the curl on her hair. I would die as Iris West and no one would have time to recognize me, let alone stop me. They’d only have time to mourn me. And with Savatar’s defeat following so close after my own, I doubted they’d have the capacity to do anything other than celebrate.

Just as they always did. Take a moment and then let it go. Continue to be happy and successful, as the friends we’d lost along the way would want. And that was true, I did want them to be happy. I only wished I could have seen it.

Savatar had me in his grip, and I flinched as he gripped me a little too tightly. There was no softness now. No tenderness spared for the person he loved. I was Iris to him now. He wouldn’t realize he had killed the person most precious to him until it was too late.

I felt bad for him. It felt terrible that I was making him do this. That he was choosing to do it. That, perhaps, the forces of the universes drove him to be in such a position that we were all partially guilty. For treating him poorly. For having to kill Iris to survive. To choose between the woman he loved once, and the person he would come to love after. To chose between the man he had once been and the man he was made into after he wasn’t that man anymore. After he stopped being Barry and everyone turned on him.

My eyes closed when his fingers wrapped around my throat, my head tilting back as I felt the sun on my face for the last time.

Barry screamed.

Someone else screamed even louder.

My eyes flew open, recognizing Iris’s voice. She had her blazer opened, revealing the device on her chest. The one I had out there to turn her into me. To make her look like me so that she could hide until it was all over. So she could live.

What in the holy hell was she doing now?

Whatever it was, whatever play she had been trying to make at the last moment to save my life, it had been too late. Savatar flicked his wrist, gripping hard as he began to speed up, letting the speed force take him. He soon slammed to a halt as he processed that Iris was standing so far from him when she was supposed to be in his grip. That she was in two places at once.

Unfortunately for me, he had moved, and in shock he had loosened his grip. Barry didn’t have super strength, neither did Savatar. I ripped from him, going flying as my body rag dolled. I slammed into something solid. A tree? A wall? I couldn’t quite tell, my vision was blurry and spotted and for a second I couldn’t breathe. Everything spun and I was stunned - frozen in a moment of free fall and terror. Iris was supposed to have been zipped away, neck snapped and eyes dead to the world. Everything had gone wrong…

And then it went even worse.

The pain came all at once as my moment frozen in time ended. The agony of my burning body as I groaned while trying to scream. I realized immediately that my leg was broken and there was something wrong with my chest. Maybe a rib broken as well? Definitely a concussion. I blinked my eyes and saw blood around my face. Oh… I had hit something very hard indeed. Several broken things and a head wound. I was horribly injured, but perhaps not mortally.

Savitar was above me, tears streaming down his face. “Why?” He was asking, over and over again. Trying to understand. Failing to do so. I realized that in the process of my injury, the machine hiding who I was had broken. I was exposed as myself now, and all his softness was back. No betrayal. No anger. Just loss. Only mourning.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. And I realized that I had said it every single time he had asked me. A mantra of my own to match his.

He had lost the chance to kill Iris. In running to my side, the time had passed and as he looked down at me we both knew it. Love had won out in the end. But not our love. His love for me maybe, but my love for Barry. Barry’s love for Iris. A cycle of unrequited, unreturned devotion. An unending string of broken hearts.

As the pain took over and I went unconscious, I saw his skin begin to fade away, turning into waves of light and energy. He unwound and spun off into the breeze, and he cried for me and I cried for him and we watched the other fade away as our friends watched the two of us, unsure if or even how to help.

The last thing I saw was him, still asking why, me still answering in echoing apologies, and my friends still watching in horror.

-

I woke up in the infirmary bed that Barry had laid in, in a coma a few years ago now. I woke up to see him sitting in a chair next to me, as I’d sat in a chair next to him. I had been apart of the team building the particle accelerator. I had been a designer. An engineer. I put metal and fabric together with the same fingers, the same methods. Back then I hadn’t been here for the day it all went wrong. I’d moved onto another project, one I’d be kicked from when my name got dragged through the mud and my credibility was demolished. Caitlyn, Wells, and Cisco had welcomed me back with open arms, and though I couldn’t do much in studying Barry, I was a good comfort. Even with him unconscious I’d found myself falling for him in the stories that were told and the things people shared with him while unconscious to get him to respond. To get him to come back. I admired hun through their eyes, and felt their love until he one day was awake and had become my friend and I got to love him in a way that was all my own.

Now it was a bit startling to see him next to me, hand holding mine and completely unconscious. Just as he had found me the first day he had woken up. Dutiful and beside him like a guardian. A watcher, waiting for him to wake him as he waited for me now.

“Barry?” I went to pull my hand away and he stirred immediately, desperately holding onto me as he lifted his head, blinking bleary eyes heavy with sleep. He looked around the room, obviously not expecting the interruption to have come from me. How many times had the others had to drag him from this room? Oh god why did that make my heart do somersaults?

When he realized I was awake he light up. Still tired but far more alert, as it super charged by seeing me awake and seemingly better. I hurt but I could muster a smile and that seemed to be enough. He whispered my name, pressing his lips to my knuckles. “You’re awake,” he mumbled dreamily. Like it was the most important news he had ever gotten.

I couldn’t help it. I blushed. “Yes. I am.”

He chuckled and I watched him as he wiped sleep from his eyes. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ve been doing that a lot, here, in this chair. Gotta be bad for my back.” He tilted his head in an attempt to pop his neck, but didn’t let go of my hand.

“Barry,” I began slowly, eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of what was happening in front of me. “I’m lost.”

He smiled, as if I had done something rather adorable. These were one of those almost-maybe moments where I thought he might have loved me if things were different. It took me by surprise now, lasting longer than it usually did. His tender admiration didn’t fade or switch out or get embarrassed or distracted and flee. He turned his full attention toward me without hesitation. “I can imagine how… disorienting it would be. To almost die trying to save Iris for me, only to wake up and… it’s all different now.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He grew quiet for a moment, holding my hand and letting his thumb run back and forth across my skin. When he spoke, I found that I hadn’t been breathing the whole time. It was too much but I didn’t dare stop him. I didn’t dare stop him. “When I realized it had been you the whole time. That all this time, I had been watching you die. Not Iris. Or, maybe Iris, but that this time it was you. That somewhere maybe it changed. I saw something else too. I saw her guilt, and found out how long she’d known what you were doing. She didn’t even come that day - Harry did. Disguised as Iris to save you, willing to sacrifice his life for yours. Both of you so brave and amazing. And… I can’t imagine what it would be like to know you were going to die and then seeing an alternative. But, I understood you more than I did her after that. You get me in a way she never will. I sacrifice myself for people too. That’s what being a hero is about. And I am a hero to some people. I try to be a hero as much as I can be. I want to be a person who stands with pride. Not with guilt. And… it made me love you even more. It made me realize that I’ve had these feelings for you for a while.”

I blinked. “That’s impossible.”

Barry laughed, once, startled by my reaction. “You’d have thought. I was sick over Iris…” he shook his head. “But I realized, it was obsession more than love. I was fixated on her. I couldn’t have any other relationships, couldn’t even entertain them. I was trapped by this idea of destiny. The newspaper and Earth 2 and Eobard Thawne and Eddie dying. It was like we had this great destiny. Like I had to be with her. I was expected to be. It was all leading to this. And I realized that a part of it was that it felt useless to try anything else. My future had already been decided. And part of it was that it felt like a prize. For being a hero, and for being patient. For waiting for her. It felt like a reward.” He scowled. “And I realized that’s a super toxic mentality to have. Iris isn’t s prize, or a reward - she’s a person. And I kept treating her like she was only going to be happy if she was with me. That we were two halves of a whole. But she’s a whole person by herself, and she’s capable and worthy of happiness on her own.” He shrugged. “Between that and my love for you, surging in this moment… I just felt like an idiot. I’d spent so much time wasted on a relationship I’d already failed by feeling like I was owed something. I’m not, and it’s different with you. Freer. This happened naturally, and despite everything else. Against all odds. It was given to me, I worked for it. No destiny, no predetermination. Just you and me. No god or fate involved. And I like it better this way.”

My heart surged, and my eyes went wide. “Barry Allen, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

He laughed, this time for a while, and he kissed my hand again. “That was.. a lot, all at once.” He sighed, grabbing my hands between both of his. “I’m sorry, let’s start with something more simple. How are you feeling?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Wonderful.”

He beamed back. “Perfect. Can I kiss you?”

It felt like a dream as I whispered, “Yes.” He kissed me and I thought about when I had kissed Savitar. We had both dodged relationships that were bad for us. He had been obsessed with Iris his entire life, eternally pining and blinded, treating her like so much less than a person. And I had done the same with Savitar. Iris had been an idea to him, as Savitar was a missed opportunity I had seized in a new and different way.

How much better that we lived in the timeline where s’more genuine love won out. That we chose each other and got to be our best selves, instead of pushing for relationships that we wanted no matter the cost. No matter protest or person. This… this was freer. More innocent. Kinder.

“I love you,” I whispered, and I felt no guilt. Only joy. I imagine that the other me must have felt a lot of guilt. But not this me. Not this time. Finally I was free of that.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, and I heard it in his voice too. The freedom. The joy. The love.

How wonderful was that?

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Small Hints

previous /// Wildefire Masterlist /// next

•°•°•

Gathering allies had proven exceedingly difficult.

Sarah was having a hard time scoping out anyone she could trust not to turn on them, and the few people that she knew hated Corp more than they loved money didn't seem inclined to stick their necks out.

So instead of sending winks and nudges to potential allies, she turned to what had proven to be a wellspring of information: Neath bars. All she had to do was buy a drink and sit and listen. The patrons who had real secrets spoke low enough that they thought they'd go unheard. If Sarah wasn't there to pick up their whispers, they probably would've.

She learned a lot of what she could call fun facts. Who was being sent to kill who and why, who'd been recently redlined or arrested. A few times her ears had pricked up at Cinder's name, but there were never any rumors of his death or capture, only vague comings and goings. She supposed she should consider it good news.

Everything Sarah overheard was decent, but nothing that would help her cause.

Until a name started popping up here and there.

Big Brother.

From what she gathered, Big Brother was some kind of informant for hire. His powers let him see all over the city and beyond. He knew whatever he wanted to know.

And Sarah knew she needed to find him.

She didn't need an army if she had information. With the right intel, the right help, she could dismantle Corp with a few choice words.

All the listening in the world couldn't seem to tell her where she could find him, but it gave her a direction, a target to seek out.

…Even if she didn't know his real name, or what he looked like. The guy was nothing if not careful. But with her sensing abilities and Hugo's help she thought she stood a chance.

“Big Brother..?” Hugo's tone was dubious when she told him the new plan. He was hunched over a laptop as Sarah leaned into the doorway of his room, dark skin cast in the blue glow of the screen, making him look almost ethereal. 

“I'm telling you, this is what we need,” she insisted. “If his powers are as good as I'm hearing they are, we can find a way to hit Corp where it hurts.”

Hugo cast a glance over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You do realize any search will be oversaturated with conspiracy theorists and media references, right? Even on the dark side?”

She sighed. “I'm aware. That's probably why he chose it as an alias.”

“Oh yeah, that's the reason. Not because he's 'always watching' or anything.” Hugo had turned back around, but she could hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Okay, so it's both.” She adjusted her glasses, pushing them higher on the bridge of her nose. “Just give it a shot, okay?”

“Okay… no promises though. The guy sounds like he doesn't want to be found.” Hugo's hands hovered over the keyboard, and the laptop's screen began to flicker, then flashed rapidly, the images on it shifting and changing as Hugo's powers set to work.

“But he also uses his powers to make money, so he wants to be found by the right people.”

“And where would the right people look?”

Sarah let out an exasperated sigh. “I don't kn—”

“Shit, nevermind, I think I have something.”

She perked up, striding to his side, where the screen had gone still. “Already?”

“It's not much, but…”

It didn't look like it. A poorly formatted forum post with a url that was just a string of numbers and symbols. “Is that… an address?”

“Of a coffee shop, but it's a starting point.”

Sarah grinned down at him. “You really are a genius, huh?”

“Careful, or I'll forget to be humble.”

“Is there anything else on the site?”

The screen flickered again. “Nothing relevant… maybe Bas? I can't tell if it's a name or an acronym.”

“Well, it's something. Thanks, you're the best—”

“Wait.” Hugo was frowning at something on the screen. “Shit… I hope you find him soon.”

She was not a fan of the way he said that. “Why?”

“This post… it's not information for clients. Or an invitation to meet up.” He turned around, his eyes serious. “It's a hit.”

•°•°•

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow , @honeycollectswhump

[xiaoluclair]

2 & 3

2. neck kisses

3. forehead kisses // charlando // rating: T for language (G for everything else)

Barcelona is about to boil his skin off. He needs dive into a cold bath, burrow into an ice berg. Maybe staple a couple hundred glaciers to his back. Drown in a massive vat of deep freeze. He'd do anything for even a hint of relief.

"Why don't you take this off?" suggests Max.

Lando shrugs further into his hoodie. "Absolutely not."

So. Almost anything.

Max rolls his eyes. Gives Lando a nudge and it's fond, probably. Alex continues to tell them in great depth about one of his eighty three cats and one of its ninety four fuckups. "Absolutely massive testicle," he's saying, hands apart in front of himself in what Lando could probably safely assume to be said massive testicle. George nods along, invested.

Across the trailer, Carlos is in front of the mic. Perez stands slightly to the side in serious conversation with Lance and Bottas. There's a gap between the first two. Lando pats Max's thigh, starts to skim past Lewis while George is saying, "What I don't get is."

Lando's pretty sure there's a lot he shouldn't get with whatever Alex was saying. "'Scuse me," he says. Logan moves out of the way with an apology, a grin. He makes sure to tap Oscar's shoulder on his way past, looks back to see him glancing over one, then the other, then roll his eyes when they meet his.

"Sorry," he says, when he finally reaches the three. "Do you mind if I."

Bottas moves back a step. "Thanks," mutters Lando, drops to the floor. He observes, "You never told me you were into feet." Next to his thigh, Lance's green boots shuffle a little.

Charles barely casts him a look. "Must have slipped my mind." He takes a long sip from his bottle, doesn't shift when Lando's shoulder presses a little to his. Another pair of green shoes have joined the club. They're right by Charles's knee before it flattened out, limp and almost touching Alonso's toe.

"One of Alex's cats has a massive ball," Lando retells. "Or maybe it ate a massive ball — body ball, by the way. Like, y'know." Charles's head is against his, hair teases the top of Lando's vision. The hook of his shades is a lump against his skull. "I wasn't really listening. He'll probably tell you later - or George will."

"Fun," says Charles. It's more of a grunt really, caveman era. That'll be fun tonight. If there is a tonight. Lando's thinking of why their could be, wouldn't be, mental pros and cons list with the worn down chalk in his brain, when Charles moves away from him.

Okay, thinks Lando. Wouldn't be it is. Wonders if he should get up now, then and there. Has his palms to the floor when Charles stuffs half his head right into his throat, shades hanging from one hand. He wonders — hopes not — if Charles can feel his heart next to his ear. Perez shifts a little, knee knocking into Alonso's.

"I want you to know," says Lando, fingers nudge their way under Charles's polo to the hot skin beneath. There's a layer of sweat there — gross. He doesn't move. "I am not okay with this."

A blind scoff, over the folds of his hoodie and right into his skin. "You gave me this."

"On second thought," says Lando snippily, "I think I preferred when you were being a caveman." It triggers another noise that vibrates against him. Yeah, there we go. Lando tilts his head down, is inspecting a speck on the floor, Valtteri's boots. Head happens to rest on Charles's hair as gets an earful of it as well.

It's easier to stay that way too.

Eventually, Lance nudges Lando in the leg, leans down. "Interview," he says, intently stares at his knee, scratches it. No thanks, Lando almost says, but that's not a liberty he's afforded really, so. Charles moves against him, meaning Lando has to move his head too. Still, he isn't expecting the kiss on his neck.

"Go kick ass," Charles tells him after he's pulled away entirely, like he didn't just. Like he didn't. He winks before shoving his shades back over his nose like. Like he did just.

Lando gets another bump, this time to his shoulder and harder. "I hope you drown in snot," he tells Charles sincerely and, thumping still coming from way too high in his throat, leans forward and presses his mouth to the place burning between his eyes, slightly clammy. The dip of his chin bumps the bridge of the shades. "See you. Uh."

"Later," says Charles, and Lando can't see his eyes but.

"Later," he confirms. Charles leans back at that. He's smiling.

Lando, let through Lance's legs to stand up on the other side of him, rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie.

[amorchai]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.

pairing(s): jim halpert x reader

words: 998

warnings/tags: established relationship, dwight being dwight.

you were typing at a rare fast speed, keyboard drowning out the sound of kelly squealing over the new season release of her favourite show. you didn’t even notice jim’s presence until his foot is nudging your chair, chuckling when you drag your eyes from the computer and to his smug face.

“can you sign these off by the end of the day? i need to pass them onto michael before five…” there was a hint of teasing in his tone, smiling at you. it been a few months of secretly dating, and the butterflies of a newfound romance were still swarming every time he looked at you like that.

“i have a few things to get through but after i sign these i can hand them to michael myself, saves you the task,” you smile back, overly sweet in sarcasm when his eyes glimmer. “oh great, well thank you, y/n.”

you smile in response, your gazes not leaving one another as he backs up towards the door to leave to the main office, not before smiling awkwardly at a peering kelly and glancing at the following camera.

“isn’t he like, so cute?” asks kelly. and you knew what she was doing, she was into ryan – which you heard all about – so she was playing matchmaker with you as she usually did.

thankfully it wasn’t with dwight this time.

“i guess.” you say back, typing on your computer with a wide uncontained smile, uncaring of the camera because at least kelly can’t tell your expression from behind. “why don’t you ask him out? i think he’s totally into you,” kelly continues and you look at the camera hesitantly before replying, “i don’t know, i’ll see.”

the next time you see jim is when you’re refilling your teacup, swirling your spoon around the aromatic herbs with a sense of boredom when your head turns to the sound of the door opening.

“hey, you,” jim smiles and you return it. he starts pouring himself a new coffee, shoulder pressed to yours in the empty kitchen. “what are you doing tonight?” you ask, pretending you don’t already know.

“oh, i don’t know, probably order some cheap takeout and watch the new movie i rented,” he says, as if you’re not involved in those plans, “what about you?”

kevin walks in the room, awkwardly smiling at you both as he heads to the stocked fridge and you try not to make it noticeable how much you’re staring at jim. his lips curling into a smile, raised eyebrows and some light stubble around his jaw ready to be shaved making him look better than normal, if it was even possible.

i clear my throat, “oh uh- dinner with some friends, then gonna go home and watch a movie myself.” jim nods at your lies, winking as kevin sits at the table, too busy struggling to open his boxed food to notice.

“have fun with that,” jim says when you begin to walk away, his usual smug smile making you want to kiss him there and then. you glance at kevin, who is in his own world, so quickly you lean up and kiss jim’s cheek. his cheeks turn red fast as his eyes widen, “how dare you,” he teases in a whisper as you walk back to your desk.

his eyes always look at you the moment you enter the room. the clock on the wall close to turning five when you enter the office from your desk at the other side of the floor. jim fidgets with a pen, stopping everything he’s doing when you walk through the room.

you smile at him knowingly, walking past him with a load of papers to take into michael’s office and he spins in his chair to stare at you when you shut the door. he can’t wait to sit out by his car to drive you back to his, finally being able to hold your hand and kiss you.

“never going to happen.”

jim turns back around, sighing as he clicks his mouse, “what’s that, dwight?” dwight rolls his eyes, invested in his work but too observant of everything else at the same time, “you and y/n.”

“oh really?” jim says, heavily amused. “y/n’s smart. too smart to date someone like you, jim,” dwight chuckles to himself, scoffing and sending a look of ‘am i right, pam?’ to reception as pam just watches in amusement with a shaking head by the constant bickering.

you walk out the office, sliding your hand over jim’s shoulder with a squeeze that only he notices and he smiles widely as the clock finally turns to five. jim didn’t mind what was being said, knowing he’d be in your company the rest of the weekend.

michael immediately sends everyone home – never a man to keep people late, stanley moving faster than anyone out the door as everyone bids their goodbyes.

jim shrugs on his jacket, watching as you wait in the kitchen area – laughing along to chatterbox kelly until everyone else is away. he loved it, the sneaking around, no one else knowing you were his or he was yours.

“you know what dwight, i think you’re right,” jim muses, minutes later. “i know. i always am. what am i right about now?” dwight says frustrated, scarf wrapped around his neck as he grabs briefcase, not correlating jim’s words to the previous conversation.

“have a great weekend,” jim replies, placing a hand on dwight’s shoulder, while smiling – eyes not leaving your frame. dwight gets defensive, pushing jim’s arm away, “bye, weirdo.”

soon, kelly walks away, waving jim off so it’s just you, him, and michael. and you walk towards him in excitement, both of you looking to michael from his desk, “see you monday, michael!”

“have fun, you guys,” he responds as you walk off. the moment the elevator door opens, jim’s tugging your hand into his, guiding you into the elevator. a stream of laughter follows, lips that missed one another meeting in a loving kiss.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

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

[musingmemories]

@5ofhearts-chris

For his sake was the silent promise that flashed through Chelsea's mind when the image of Chris and his prior injuries caused her to slip on the ring. Last time, he wouldn't breathe a word of what he'd gotten himself involved in, strict on keeping her out of it. And yet at the same time, Chris had somehow let slip his endgame. Perhaps out of habit in the end, just a way of brushing off that kiss and to keep her at an arm's length. But tonight fate, as Chris would've teasingly put it, had very much brought them together and this time he'd had no choice but to let her tag along. Any danger he might run toward she'd be right there with him. At least now Chelsea could play a part in making sure Chris got back safe without having to worry whether or not she'd see him again.

Physically he was here, and it wasn't a dream. He wasn't a figure in a crowd she expected to see out of her peripheral. Chris was here...biting into the Fudgees bar she'd opened for him right out of her hand. Her mind immediately blanked and Chelsea could only helplessly stare as Chris spoke about liking his wife feeding him and winked at her. Her heart almost dropped to her stomach. In an attempt to mask how flustered she felt, Chelsea nudged the bitten snack bar against his nearest hand on the steering wheel. "I wasn't feeding you!" She insisted as she sat back with a huff, hands folding onto her lap. Off to an extremely convincing portrayal of husband and wife, weren't they?

Chelsea knew she'd have to do better as she imagined herself in the story Chris painted for her. Their story. Which caused a chuckle. "Faithful, huh? You sure you didn't marry me for power, being my rich dad's right-hand man?" She asked, wondering if there was just the slightest hint of sincerity and reality mingling with the words. Chelsea did find herself wondering how he might've proposed, how he would've taken her hand and slipped the ring on...a missed opportunity putting hers on right in front of him.

Ah, Callgram...a callback to their paths crossing, something she still used and updated, maybe hoping he'd see her posts. Then Chris called her out in such a knowing way Chelsea was almost taken aback. Not such a secret though, was it? "Hmm~ telling people that I love anything new and exciting, might just inspire someone to steal me away tonight, darling." She let the tease slip, wondering if he'd even react if that happened while thinking of something to offer with his inquiry about herself. "My life's on public display, I've got no secrets." Social Media was still her platform--everything she loved, her hobbies, her friends, her life, all of it was for the world to see.

The excitement fluttered back in her stomach when they arrived at the shopping area, and finally the shop where Chris offered her anything, causing Chelsea's eyes to widen slightly. "Famous last words..." Said before an idea popped into her head, tugging a coy smile on her lips as she decided to practice. "You know~ I like it when my husband tries to pick out a dress for me. Just to test his taste of course, being the daughter of a fashion tycoon." There was a challenging brow quirked upward in Chris' direction before she moved toward a rack with a few black dresses. Pressed for time though, weren't they? As much as she wanted to try everything on and watch Chris' reactions, this wasn't the time. She was almost disappointed by the fact when she selected a potential option that sparkled like stars. There was an example of a bond girl dress just behind her, or maybe Chris would end up picking one that would actually be the choice.

@musingmemories

Chris still found it hard to believe that Chelsea would wear the ring so easily when she so fiercely believed in meeting her soulmate anytime. It was a very serious commitment for her. He decided to make her time with him at least somewhat worthwhile - and to involve her in the dangerous things as little as possible.

When Chelsea got excited about shopping, his expression softened. He would have liked it better for her to say that he was the best, but oh well - making her this happy actually felt nice. It's just a job, it's just a job. Then he tried hard to not indulge in an imaginative future where it was perfectly normal for Chelsea to hold onto his arm exactly like that, because it just felt so right.

He concentrated on the road ahead while Chelsea was looking for his emergency Fudgees bars in the gloves compartment - of course he kept a stash of sweets everywhere he could - and was pleasantly surprised when she even opened the wrapper for him.

"Thank you~," he said and because he wouldn't be Chris if he didn't try to make a beautiful lady melt and blush a little, he gracefully bit off from the Fudgees bar still in her hand and added, "Mmh~ I like it when my wife feeds me my favourite things." He winked at her.

When she listed off the things that he actually liked, he felt warm inside and pushed that feeling away immediately. It wasn't like people didn't know he had a sweet tooth. Still, it was nice.

He decided to fill her in on the details of the job. "This evening, the cover is that you're the daughter of a rich CEO of a fashion company that is supposed to be really popular among young people abroad - Richard Fetcher - and I am your faithful husband working as the CEO's trusted right hand man. Now, is there something I should know about my beautiful wife other than her love of anything new and exciting? Oh and Callgram, of course."

He nodded when Chelsea told him her preference in a dress. "I know just the place~" His thoughts threatened to go into forbidden territory when he imagined Chelsea in a revealing black dress and was glad that they arrived at their destination soon. He parked the car in Bond street, helped Chelsea get out of the car and led her to one of the expensive shops lined up. "Go on, sweetheart, choose anything you like. My treat~"

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hear me out: Harry x fem!reader x Cedric…

Like Harry let’s it slip he has a little crush on cedric and you mention the possibility of a threesome and they’re totally down (watching Cedric fuck Harry �� omfg)

pairing(s): reader x harry potter x cedric diggory

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): 18+, mmf, threesome, anal sex, oral (female receiving)

“So, I have a surprise for you,” you told Harry as you slowly approached your bedroom.

You could feel the nerves fluttering in your chest as you looked up at him. What if he hated the idea? What if he was embarrassed? What if he never forgave you?

But you knew your boyfriend well and you could only hope that he gave you the reaction you anticipated when you formed this little plan. It was no secret that Harry was bisexual, and a few weeks ago he had finally spilled that he had always harbored a small crush on one of your best friends, Cedric Diggory, all throughout school and into adulthood. You couldn’t deny that Cedric was handsome, so you had called in a small favor. That favor was currently waiting for the two of you behind the door.

When Harry gave you a nudge to continue, you took a deep breath and pressed on.

“Remember a few weeks ago when you told me you had a crush on Cedric? And that you’d like to have him in bed?” You asked, having no other way to broach the subject.

“Yeah?” Harry replied, still clearly confused as to why you were both still standing outside of your bedroom door having this conversation.

“Well, and you can totally say no if you want, but I told him and he would also very much like that. He’s in there right now. I can tell him to go home if you don’t want to though,” you half explained, half rambled.

Throughout the entire spiel, Harry grew redder and redder. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or arousal until he looked at you. His green eyes were already dark with lust at the thought.

“You’re serious?” He asked, still a bit baffled that this was actually happening.

“Very. Now would you like to go inside, or…?” You trailed off, purposefully leaving it open ended so Harry had an out if he wanted to.

But no, your brave little Gryffindor immediately opened the door and strode inside. You followed a step behind him, anticipation swirling in your gut at what was about to happen. You stumbled upon the two most important men in your life seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes, assessing each other openly.

It didn’t take long until Cedric stood up from the bed and crashed his lips onto Harry’s, the pair of them moaning at the contact as you watched on. You had never considered yourself a voyeur, but watching the pair of them locked together like that, their hands roaming the others body, was making you incredibly wet.

When they finally broke apart, Cedric looked at Harry for a long moment before asking, “Has anyone ever fucked you, Harry?”

Despite the blush forming on his cheeks, Harry shot you a quick glance before answering. “Not by another man.”

Upon receiving that answer, Cedric shot you a satisfactory look that went directly towards your clit. “I see,” he said slowly, holding your gaze before turning back to Harry. “Would you like me to?” He asked, his hands never once leaving Harry’s fit build.

“Y-yes,” Harry stuttered out, and you could see him growing harder in his trousers by the second.

“Strip and get on the bed for me, alright?”

When Harry gave a shaky nod and got to work, Cedric made his way over to you.

“He’s delightfully responsive. You didn’t tell me that,” Cedric said, just low enough that Harry would have to strain to hear from where he was across the room.

“Figured I’d give you a nice surprise to make this worth your while,” you grinned at him, the both of you casting predatory glances at Harry as he continued to strip.

“This is more than worth it, trust me,” Cedric mused, his gaze slowly turning back to you. “And where would you like to be in all of this?”

“I’ve been content to watch, but I wouldn’t oppose whatever you have in mind,” you replied coyly, already knowing your best friend had a plan brewing.

“Well then, you should strip too,” he said with a wink before walking back over to Harry who was lying on his stomach on the bed.

You stripped dutifully, your core aching as you watched Cedric tease your boyfriend as he got him into the position he wanted him - on his knees with his arse perched deliciously in the air, completely exposed to both of your gazes.

“Fuck, he’s beautiful,” Cedric said to you, but his eyes didn’t leave Harry’s body once.

You watched as Harry started to squirm, unsure what to do when so openly exposed like this. You rarely left your boyfriend guessing in the bedroom, so you jumped into his rescue.

“Don’t ignore him, Ced,” you chided playfully, but by the way Cedric immediately put his hands on Harry’s waist, you knew he knew you were serious.

Once you were just as bare as your boyfriend, you climbed on the bed in front of him. You spread your legs so they were bracketing his body, exposing your dripping cunt to both men in the process. They let out twin groans as they watched you, Harry’s cock twitching between his legs.

Without a second thought, you ran your fingers through Harry’s hair until you had a handful and tugged his face towards your core, an obvious demand. He shot you a grin before diving towards you, his tongue readily running up your slit and teasing your clit.

“Go slow. I don’t want to cum until you do,” you told him, your hand leisurely running through his hair as he slowed his pace.

Once Cedric knew the both of you were situated, he made quick work of opening Harry up for him with his fingers. Every moan that spilled out of Harry vibrated through your core, making you dripping wet by the time Cedric took his cock out. Harry’s shiver of anticipation when he felt Cedric at his entrance was unmistakable, and you knew none of you would last long once Cedric started to fuck him.

“Do you want him to fuck you or are you happy with his mouth?” Cedric asked, his voice an octave lower since the last time he spoke, every move he made now driven by lust.

“He’s doing wonders with his mouth,” you said, stroking Harry’s again. “Besides, I think the both of us at once would be too much for him this time.”

Harry was so wrapped up in pleasuring you and shamelessly rocking his arse back against Cedric that he missed your subtle hint that this would not be the only time Cedric would make an appearance in your bedroom. But your best friend looked at you with a twinkle in his eye as he started pushing into Harry that he liked your idea just fine.

You watched as Cedric took Harry. Your boyfriend had to pull away from you for a moment as he adjusted, moans and whimpers spilling out of his mouth as Cedric worked every inch of himself inside of Harry’s tight hole. When you looked down at him, he looked the most fucked out he had ever been and then some, his whole body high strung as Cedric started rolling his hips in slow increments.

“Better not leave the lady waiting,” Cedric said as he bent down to talk lowly in Harry’s ear, shooting you a wink over his shoulder.

Once Harry got his mouth back on you, his movements were not what you had expected. In the heat of the moment you had anticipated him to be sloppy, slow, subdued. You had not anticipated him to be purposefully breaking you apart piece by piece as you watched him get beautifully fucked by your best friend.

The pair of them moved in perfect harmony as you all climbed closer and closer to the edge, a cacophony of moans engulfing the room.

“Fuck, I can feel how close you are, Harry,” Cedric moaned, his pace only growing harder and harder as time went on. “Cum for us.”

You watched as your boyfriend shook and collapsed after one, two, three more steady thrusts from Cedric before meeting his release, rope after rope of cum falling onto the bed as Cedric fucked him through it. Despite Harry’s now unsteady tongue, you fell over the edge just watching him, your own series of moans falling from your lips as you stared transfixed at the sight before you. Cedric came with a groan, buried deep inside of Harry as he released. Harry shuddered at the feeling, blissed out beyond belief between your two bodies.

You settled yourself on the bed as you watched them recover. Cedric was first, and he easily moved Harry up the bed and into your arms, Harry’s head laid on your chest. Hesitantly, Cedric laid down on the other side of Harry and curled his body around your boyfriends, the three of you content to lay in silence for the time being.

“How was that?” You finally asked, breaking the silence with your direct question to Harry. You had been stroking his hair and face, soothing him and waiting for his breathing to even out in the aftermath of his climax.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at you and you were almost ready to go again just at the sight of him. His skin was still flushed and everything about him screamed ‘fucked out’.

“It was incredible,” he said softly, almost hesitantly.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” You asked with a small smile, already knowing exactly what he wanted.

“Well, I just,” he paused and slowly turned his head to look at Cedric. “Are you staying tonight?”

“Would you like me to?”

“Please,” Harry answered, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink at how desperate he was being.

But both you and Cedric gave him a fond smile and snuggled closer towards him. Harry responded with his own smile, and finally content in between your bodies, his breathing started to deepen as he drifted off to sleep. Over his head, you and Cedric shared a meaningful glace, one full of promise and anticipation for future nights spent just like this.

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter One (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

Prologue

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 4155

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N:   I have been dying to post more so the day is finally here! I am so happy everyone has given my such amazing and sweet feedback! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Needless to say, this chapter does have smut! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

You woke up the next morning with your head pounding while the sun hit your eyes as you opened them. Turning on your back you let out a sigh once you realized where you were. The same bed you figured you would be in even though you were hoping it was all a dream and what had happened didn’t actually take place. 

Remaining underneath Tom’s dark and satin sheets since you knew you had nothing on, you pivoted your head upward and saw his eyes opened and staring up at the ceiling. Clearly, neither one of you had any idea how to address what the hell happened between the two of you last night and you certainly weren’t going to be the one to initiate.

Tom licked his lips as he adjusted himself from under the covers. Did he really just sleep with you? Sure, he thought about having that moment with you. Countless times, actually. It was no secret you were breathtakingly beautiful and he always had that fantasy about you. But you were always dating that idiot for whatever reason and Tom always thought you were never into him in that way.

None of it was planned, of course. It just happened. One minute, you were both drinking and just simply there next to each other. The next, Tom and you were stumbling into his bedroom. Laughing in between kisses as you removed one another’s clothes and experiencing what was probably some of the best sex he’d ever had. His entire body was vibrating still from how he had felt and he never in a million years would have even thought you were the least bit interested in him like that. Then again, you were both clearly going through some really weird stuff last night.

You were both vulnerable and feeling things you didn’t want to admit to other people but for some reason, Tom was alright with admitting it to you and you both found a way to get rid of the feeling, even if it was temporary. He didn’t want you to regret it, because he sure as hell didn’t. He certainly wasn’t expecting any of that with you but it was a hell of a night and he was far from complaining about it. He was just worried you regretted it.

A lot could be said in your silence with Tom as you lay there, the both of you now staring up at the ceiling and neither of you were speaking. You couldn’t help but feel a little awkward while you tried to figure out what to say. Do you just thank him for the night and leave? Should you just say you had work and grab your clothes or just maybe not say anything at all? The silence was killing you for a variety of reasons and you were still trying to rack your brain trying to figure out why you initiated the first kiss to begin with. You weren’t drunk at all but for some reason you just wanted it. You wanted him. And in that moment last night, you were glad he wanted you too.

Tom cleared his throat, the stillness between you both was causing a rise in his anxiousness, “Well...we had sex last night,” he stated the obvious as plainly as possible. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah,” you answered in an obvious tone. You held back from your laughter as you pushed your hair out of your face, “I should probably go,” you told him as you tried to cover yourself up with the sheets even though you already knew Tom saw you naked last night. There were no more secrets between you both. Clearly.

Tom sat up from the bed and began looking for his sweatpants to throw on before he started to help you find your clothes across the bedroom floor. He handed you your t-shirt as he politely turned away while you changed, “Do you want coffee or something?” he offered, something he would never offer another girl who stayed the night.

Offering any girl any type of breakfast or anything of the sort automatically made them believe Tom wanted them to stay longer. To go out on a date or to get a phone call from him later. Commitment. So he always avoided it and usually had you kick them out if they couldn’t get the hint. But obviously you were different being that you were a friend who he just so happened to sleep with. He was grateful you were there with him and he’d never dismiss you as quickly. He cared about you in the same ways you cared about him. Neighborly love. Who he happened to be attracted to and vice versa.

“Nah, I’m okay. I have some back at my place,” you answered casually as you grabbed your leggings as Tom handed you one of your shoes, “Thanks,” you said to him with a small smile as you tried not to act like you were rushing out of there.

You tried to make yourself presentable as Tom began to walk you out of the bedroom, unsure if he should thank you for the night or not. You turned to him with a sarcastic smile and pointed towards your messy waves, “Wow, I guess this officially makes me a notch on your belt, huh?” you tried to joke to make it less weird between you two.

“For the record, you are not a notch or anything like that, Y/N,” Tom said sternly to make sure you knew that last night was actually a night he didn’t regret at all, “I uh...actually had a pretty good time,” he felt his cheeks tinge a hint of pink as he admitted that to you. Another thing he knew to never say to a girl he brought home. Ever.

Making a face at him, you breathed out a small laugh while you nodded your head in agreement, “Yeah, I did too,” you told him honestly.

The two of you just stood in the kitchen by Tom’s door for a minute. Waiting for the other person to say something but neither of you did. You rocked back and forth on your heels as Tom slid his hands into his pockets, “This isn't weird, is it?” you questioned in a light tone.

“What? No!?” Tom chuckled nervously. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to be nonchalant while the elephant of the deed you two had done remained between you both, “Wh-why-why would it be weird?” he stammered.

Leaning in a bit closer towards him, you narrowed your eyes in on Tom, “We had sex,” you whispered as if somebody else was in the room and could overhear your entire conversation.

Tom copied your motion and leaned in in the exact same way, “I don’t think it’s a secret now,” he teased you with a playful smirk, making you laugh as he pulled away. He gave you a nudge against your shoulder, “It’s only weird if we make it weird, right?” he reminded himself.

Lots of friends sleep together and continue to be friends. This was nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, you were more neighborly than friends. So it was a completely different situation than what typical friends had dealt with in the past. Tom was right, you reminded yourself.

“No weirdness on my end,” you told him with a smile as you held out your palm as if you were swearing in a courtroom, “Promise,” you added with a playful wink.

Tom smiled back, leaning forward to get the door for you but you accidentally mistook his gesture for a hug and wrapped your arm around his neck. You cussed under your breath at your embarrassingly stupid moment while you apologized profusely to Tom as he tried to save the awkwardness by giving you a half-assed hug in return. You tried to hide the wincing your eyes were making from the hug but you knew he noticed. Of course he noticed.

Looking down at the floor because you were now too embarrassed to look in his direction, you said your goodbyes as Tom promised to swing by this week with his usual pizza while you began walking faster towards your apartment. But you didn’t want Tom to think you were that flustered by your interactions that you quite literally ran away to hide out. 

You finally got inside your door and realized everything remained untouched since you had kicked Justin out last night. The bottle of wine was still open and sitting on the counter, the television was still on in the living room and there were still a bunch of clothes he had left behind that you needed to desperately get rid of.

Everything in your apartment remained frozen in time while you felt like you jumped lightyears ahead of it from your one night spent with Tom. It was a strange feeling as you walked over to turn the television off but you didn’t feel angry like you had felt last night. You weren’t exactly over the events that took place with Justin but you were on the path to accepting it and you weren’t sure if Tom had something to do with it or not.

There was no denying that you were still hurting from everything. It was still a fresh wound and you had felt so betrayed from it all, you weren’t sure how you would bounce back from it or if you even would. You never dealt with a breakup as ugly as this one so it was a new feeling for you that you were still trying to wrap your head around.

And even though when you were with Tom for the brief time that you were, it felt like it was almost exactly what you needed last night. You didn’t hold back from him and you were comfortable enough around Tom telling him exactly what you needed. Letting your frustrations and anger out on him and Tom letting his feelings out on you led to an explosion between the two of you that surprisingly left you possibly wanting more.

Wanting more from Tom.

Changing into a fresh outfit from last night, you continued to replay the night over and over again in your mind. It was unexpected to say the least, but not in a bad way. Not by any means. If you thought it was bad or awkward, you probably wouldn’t be standing in front of your closet still thinking about the things Tom made you feel.

He made you forget about the drama, if even for one night. But he still managed to make you think that you didn’t need Justin anymore. Maybe you didn’t need anyone right now other than a simple fix here and there to make you feel good. Maybe something without any strings attached was what you needed right now in order to move on and numb your pain for a bit.

You knew Tom was dealing with his own commitment issues and neither one of you were looking for anything complicated. It may not be the best idea in the world to be thinking about something like this but clearly neither one of you knew how to be alone at the moment. You didn’t really want to be fully alone anyway, and you were both comfortable enough with each other where you could be honest about this stuff. Maybe Tom was right, there shouldn’t be any weirdness between you.

Maybe some great sex and not an ounce of attachment was the elixir to the chaos Justin caused for you. No formalities. No planned out, stuffy dates. No mingling with friends and their significant others. No justin. And certainly no types of feelings that would get you in a mess you clearly weren’t looking for right now.

Just good fucking sex. And...it didn’t hurt that your neighbor might be looking for the same type of thing that you were. At least you had hoped.

And when the thoughts and memories and god, downright blissful remembrances of his touch kept invading your mind, just standing there in your apartment thinking about it wasn’t enough. The anxiousness vibrated through your body and you knew what you might be needing from down the hall.

You pulled on a new t-shirt before grabbing your keys. You had never done anything like this before, what if Tom said no? Maybe it should just remain a one time thing between the two of you. Your nerves were attacking you relentlessly as you locked your door, slipping your key ring around your finger and securing it tightly.

But if Tom could do things like this, what was stopping you? The pure rush of anxiety and adrenaline...but it was stupidly guiding you right back to his door. This was insane. Completely stupid. He’d never agree to this. 

Your mind was telling you to turn around and go back home. But that side of you that you never let come out was saying ‘fuck it. Have some fun for once. You’ve been through enough heartbreak and this is something for you.

The safe way got you hurt. More than once. And as you lifted your hand to tap your knuckles against the door, you knew you were done playing it smart. 

Barely getting through the first knock, the door swung open. You let out a yelp as you practically hit Tom in the face while he almost walked right into you. The two of you running into each other as your bodies slightly crashed into one another.

“Oh shit!” Tom exclaimed as he pulled back with an awkward laugh. He ran a hand through his still messy curls, “I was actually on my way to see you,” he admitted, pressing his lips together as he looked at you in the doorframe.  

You reached up and crashed your lips against Tom’s without warning, “Let’s make a deal,” you told him through your hungry kiss as you began to feel Tom start to kiss you back. He moaned into you as he captured your top lip in between his.

“W-what?” Tom mumbled against your lips once again, bringing you inside of his place as he kicked the door shut. He was surprised this was happening so suddenly. Especially since he was just about to be on his way over to your place to ask you for just about the same thing. He knew it didn’t feel right when you left this morning and it was because he wanted to feel this way again. With you. 

“I can still help with your horrible conquests but...in the meantime, we make up for our shit love lives with damn good sex,” you explained while catching your breath from your last kiss. You stood in the living room with Tom’s hands resting on your hips with lust for you in his eyes. 

He pulled back from his embrace with a quirked brow, “You’re serious,” he noted as he smirked at you. He was honestly surprised considering he never saw this side to you. You were always with the same guy for as long as you lived here. It was strange and new to him to see you wanting something that he did.

“No strings attached, of course,” you added. The words sounded ridiculous but you ignored that thought. 

“I...christ, Y/N. I can’t say I haven’t thought about having endless mindblowing sex with you,” he said as his eyes rolled over you. 

“Mindblowing?” you chuckled, “Someone’s cocky,” you teased. 

“Rude. But back to the point...are you sure about this?” Tom got serious. His focus on you as he stepped back to give you some space. He didn’t want to be overbearing or act like he was trying to just get you back in bed. Even though that was basically what he was doing regardless of the situation.

The bottom line was, he had an amazing time with you. And unlike the random girls he brought home, you knew him. There was an understanding between you and him that he knew you got. And he could be open with you by saying he didn’t want anything serious. He wouldn’t need to find a way to get rid of you in the morning. He could distract himself from the nonsense he would think about while ravishing you in the process. It was the perfect idea.

You took a moment. Wondering again if you were just crazy to suggest this. But the way his brown eyes were studying you, it just felt right. 

“I’m sure if you are,” you finally answered. 

Tom was silent but it didn’t take him long to make his mind up. Taking a few steps forward, he picked you up in one swift motion and brought you over towards the couch where you straddled his hips before going in for another kiss. His hand was already slipping underneath your shirt and up your back as he helped you remove it along with his, tossing it towards the empty side of the couch you weren’t using.

Helping you out of your leggings, you found your way back towards Tom’s lap and grinded your hips against him in between your kisses. The cravings you both shared for one another grew wilder as you continued, “We’re really doing this?” you muttered against his lips with another gasp as you helped release him out of his already bulging boxers.

“Think so,” Tom laughed against your skin, trailing his lips down to your neck as he pushed your hair to one side, “Unless you want to stop?” he pulled back for a minute, not wanting to overstep if you were having second thoughts.

Biting your bottom lip, your hand went down to Tom’s hardened length and ran along it. Rubbing the pre-cum seeping from his tip as you watched Tom throw his head back against the couch with a low moan, “Does it look like I want to stop?” you asked him with a playful grin.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Tom hissed as his hands gripped your sides to release some of his frustration. He breathed out a laugh as his fingers went to your clit, beginning to circle you slowly, “Let me give you what you came here for. Hm, darling?” his voice grew raspy as he looked you in the eye, his pupils black the longer he waited.

Your eyes went down towards Tom’s waist, gasping as you watched him begin to tease your entrance with his tip. Cussing under your breath, you grabbed onto his shoulders tightly as you braced yourself for his impact. Tom pressed his hand against the small of your back as he waited for you to let him know it was okay. You nodded your head silently as you gave him an amorous look, “I want you, Tom,” you whispered lowly.

That was all it took before Tom guided himself into you. Going slow as he took his time to let you get used to him while you clenched around him. You lowered yourself deeper as he filled your core up entirely while you began to roll your hips against his slowly, letting out a moan as Tom hissed against your ear while twitching inside of you.

“Mmm, Y/N,” Tom breathed out a moan as he matched his thrusts with yours. His lips parted, moaning against your neck while he pressed open, sloppy kisses against your skin as he continued to rub your clit with his opposite hand, “You feel so fucking wet,” he praised you breathlessly.

“Keep touching me, Tom,” you cried out to him while you started to ride him faster. Even though you and Tom had just started these escapades, you certainly felt comfortable enough to tell him exactly what you wanted to make you feel good. Pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen bud, your eyes clenched shut while you pushed yourself deeper into him, “Shit! Yes, right there,” you reassured him with another moan.

Guiding you down on his cock, Tom felt his entire body tense as soon as his lips met yours once again. His breaths getting heavy like yours as your name fell from his lips while he watched you bounce up and down on him, making him feel absolutely incredible as you continued to moan in his ear.

You felt your body beginning to tense as you kept going. Everything inside of you was aching for a release and Tom was giving it to you without a doubt. Rocking your hips into him more, you knew you were getting closer to your edge and you could feel Tom about to release as well.

Opening your eyes, you cupped Tom’s face with your palms and gave him one last fiery kiss. Your tongues finding each other wildly and tangled up before you both finally reached your highs together as you whimpered Tom’s name while you finally let go for him.

Tom cussed as he unraveled from beneath you. His body writhing while he watched you bury your face into the crook of his neck, muffling the sound of your moans against him. The vibrations from your sounds set him off further while he continued to reach his bliss, still thrusting into you while you rode out your tremor together.

“Holy….” Tom trailed off with a heavy breath, finally slowing down while his back hit the couch as he tried to pull himself together. He saw you pull your face away from his body, giving him the same exact look that he knew he had on his face, “Umm...yeah, holy fuck?” he laughed.

“That just about covers it,” you agreed as you kissed his cheek with a smile. You pushed Tom’s now damp and sweaty curls out of his face to capture his lips while you brought him closer to you, “So we have a deal?” you confirmed as Tom kissed you back.

Tom chuckled as his hands fell to your sides, his thumb creating small circles against you while he pursed his lips, “You’re really serious about this? No strings? No titles? Just like...just sex?” he clarified, still trying to wrap his head around you asking for this. It felt like a godsend and that it was too good to be true. Why couldn’t more girls be like you?

Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Tom’s eyes went from your eyes, to your lips, and back as he sat there admiring you looking this way. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him and even just as a friend, he was lucky to have you in his life. But now that he had you in other ways, you felt almost intoxicating to him. He couldn’t understand why that piece of garbage cheated on you. Tom had done some shady things to girls in the past and he didn’t see himself in ways others might but he knew he would have never done what that guy did.

You nodded as you turned your head to the side, “Do we have a deal, Tom?” you asked again, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Justin really did a number on you, huh?” Tom teased with a chuckle.

“We’re not talking about him,” you shushed Tom. Pressing your palm against his chest, you gave him a stern expression, “No talk about exes or...your conquests. We do this,” you gestured towards you straddling his legs before looking back at him, “Whenever we...feel like it. I guess,” even you weren’t sure of the rules but you figured you could make them your own anyway.

There was a pause as you quickly felt like you should add more, “We’re friends. Nothing more, nothing less,” you told him, wanting to be clear of at least one title throughout this whole pact the two of you were about to agree to, “Friends who...happen to jump each other’s bones?” you stated despite it sounding like a question.

Tom chuckled at your timid expression. His hands still at your sides as he leaned up and captured your lips again. “Deal.”

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[bcdwhcre]

hiii hope your having an amazing day :) do you make headcanons? if you do and if you don't mind can i request headcanons for Izuku, Bakugo, and Denki about being in a secret relationship (i really love your stories about characters being in a secret relationship) and them accidentally outing their relationship because something happened (you can choose what happened) thank you so much!! also if you dont do headcanons you can choose one from the three on the imagine ❤️ I'm sorry if this is confusing ���

“Secret Relationships,” Midoriya, Bakugou and Denki headcanon

YES IM GLAD YOU REQUESTED THIS UGH, I gotta do my sweet baby Bakugou first🥺

Summary: having a secret relationship with one of the guys and it’s get leaked.

Each section would probably be a little short, I apologize in advance🥺

Warnings: none!

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Bakugou:

The relationship between you and Bakugou was always strange but once the students had to move on campus in the dorms, it turned into a whole different story.

The secret meetups late at night in his room, turned into nothing more than a secret relationship. The way your sleep schedule was beyond screwed up from being up late in his room and having to wake up early to go back to your room before anyone noticed.

It had been going on for months so by now you were used to the secrets and sneaking around along with barely having any sleep the next day while in class.

The more the relationship progressed, the more Bakugou would steal quick glances at you and even when you were in the kitchen with the other students, he would purposely slide behind you and touching your back in the process.

One day in particular, the class had decided to have a game night and he wasn’t too thrilled about joining in. He had tried to convince you to come back to his room but you had told him it would make things obvious if only the two of you were absent.

He huffed, at this point he didn’t really care about the class nor their opinions on anything. He was a ball of fire afterall so when he saw you sitting with the class as they gathered up board games, he was over with keeping things a secret, he wanted it to be known that you were his and he wanted you upstairs in his room.

“I don’t wanna play this stupid game night.” Bakugou said in front of everyone but he was directing it towards you and you tried to ignore him.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to be here dude.” Kirishima patted his back, sitting down at the table and he huffed out a breath dramatically, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not talking to any of you idiots.. Y/N.” He said your name sternly, like he was giving you a direct order by the look of his red eyes.

“Why are you so worried about Y/N being here with us?” One of the classmates mentioned and you had cursed under your breath, Bakugou was acting like a child.

“Because I want my girlfriend upstairs with me.” Bakugou angrily said, everyone growing quiet and you had gulped the lump in your throat, well there goes the secret.

Everyone’s eyes had landed on you and your cheeks turned a dark shade of red before you slide the chair back and stood up. You have never felt this embarasssed in your life, he could’ve done this any other time in a completely different way but of course the asshole had to make everything a big deal.

“No way,” Denki mumbled, trying to hold the laugh that was begging to come out.

You dismissed yourself, walking over to where Bakugou was and punched his arm as hard as you could, cursing under your breath and he smirked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders, winking back at the rest of the class.

“God, you’re so fucking embarrassing, Katsuki.” You muttered, following him to the elevator to go up and he tugged you closer.

“Oh shut up, you love it.”

As you two waited for the elevator, you couldn’t help the feel the classes eyes on the both of you. It was even more humiliating as you had to wait for the doors to slide open. You heard a few of them whisper about you two being a thing, some had mentioned how obvious it was and some mentioned had you two were complete opposites.

Bakugou obviously didn’t care, instead he liked to annoy everyone, especially you. So hearing people whisper about had fed onto the asshole ego he had, making his large hand grab your chin and give you a rough kiss on the lips in front of everyone.

The way your face was completely red at this point and all he did was give the classmates a evil grin before dragging you into the elevator and pushing the button for his floor.

“Why can’t you ever be casual?”

“Do you not know me? I’m far from casual.” He nudged you gently, laughing at your tomato red face and moved his thumb to brush across your cheek.

“Yeah, clearly.”

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Denki:

You had a crush on Denki for what seemed like forever. Since the first moment you met him on the first day of school till now. It was pretty obvious how much you liked him. Eventually you became bold enough to ask him to hang out.

Now you two have been dating for only a few weeks, you both had agreed to keep it private to enjoy the privacy and the time alone before the classmates end up finding out.

Of course you knew Denki a little too well at this point, you knew he would end up slipping up the secret sooner or later but it didn’t entirely bother you that it’ll happen.

And you were right, after a training exercise and having to go through some obstacle course that Aizawa had set up, he had sparked a fuse and as his brain suffered a shortage, his mouth had instantly opened and talked about you.

You couldn’t help but be over protective when he did go through that shortage phase, quickly taking care of him and making sure he was comfortable was a habit you picked up.

“So pretty.” He muttered as he reached for you in front of everyone and you froze in your place until he had wrapped his arms around you, clinging onto your body.

Your cheeks flushed, grabbing onto his body and holding him up straight so he didn’t lose his balance. He continued to mutter words like how you’re so pretty and he even slipped up how he was lucky to have you.

“Aww, Denki is in love.” Sero had laughed at his state, making you roll your eyes and become more protective.

“Nothing wrong with that.” You admitted, stroking your fingers through his hair and dragged him over to sit down.

His head had rested on top of yours, his tall frame giving you a tight hug and you had choked on the air you were breathing on from how openly clingy he was acting in front of the entire class including Mr. Aizawa.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Midoriya had teased, the smirk on his face made you grow embarrassed.

“No.”

“Yes, we are.” Denki cut you off, his arms still around yours and the goofy smile on his face only got bigger.

“Y/N is mine. Only mine, I don’t want to see- I don’t want to see any of you near... what’s mine.” He managed to stumble out, his face turning blank like he had forgotten what he was talking about.

“Jesus,” You laughed, putting your hand over his mouth, glancing at your classmates.

You stayed quiet, dragging him away from the rest of the class and forced him to drink some water and sit down on a chair to relax until he went back to his normal state.

You will admit that he was cute and the way he openly told everyone what was his, which was you, had made your heart flutter.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Denki.”

“Am I?”

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Midoriya:

It had taken forever for Izuku to catch onto your hints on liking him and wanting to hang out with him more. Of course he was very oblivious and didn’t catch on for weeks, even months before you got frustrated and had been straight forward with him.

The both of you being completely shy balls made everything a lot more difficult, the hints he threw at you and the hints your threw at him had completely flew over both of your heads, it was quite ridiculous.

You knew Midoriya wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew he was too big of a anxiety nut to even be bold enough to tell you to your face that he likes you in ways that was more than friends. So you did it on your own.

It hadn’t even been a week of you two officially dating until Izuku slipped it up to Todoroki when ranting about how amazing you were and how much he loved watching your quirk in action.

Once he had revealed the secret, he had told Todoroki to keep his mouth shut and not talk about it again but later that day, Izuku slipped up to another one of your classmates, Ashido.

It wasn’t long until he had slipped up to the whole entire class and now everyone knew that you two were a fresh couple. The side comments the students would make to you both and embarrass the both you, making the shyness in you two grow and cause you to stutter to no end.

“I think you two are cute!” Ashido had mentioned, trying to assure you that it wasn’t a big deal that everyone already knew.

“You knew Midoriya can’t keep a secret for long.” She commented, making you laugh and agree to what she said.

You couldn’t blame him though, he was a little too excited to be dating his crush that he couldn’t help but talk about you constantly to all his friends. He couldn’t help but stare at you and want to talk about how pretty you are and the characteristics he liked most about you.

It was in his nature, he was proud and lucky that he just had that urge to tell the whole world about you and it made butterflies explode in your stomach and it also made you want to kiss him desperately but you decided to not do that in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to tell anyone right away.” He mumbled towards you, the look of guilt washing over his features and you shook your head, embracing him in a tight hug.

“Don’t be sorry! I’m glad you told people.”

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ANNND finished, I’m sorry it’s short. I usually go longer when it’s one character at a time but I hope it’s good🤧

PLSSSS send in more my hero requests!! I’m obsessed

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[cacoetheswriting]

little mystery

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: tattoos, alcohol consumption, gambling/betting money, mild swearing (i actually don't think there is any but just in case), baby spence!!, no smut/or implied smut but it reads a little dirty (so i’m gonna rate this 18+ anyway) Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Bets are placed to see who can be the first to figure out the secret location of your tattoo, and what the tattoo is.

A/N: i was browsing pinterest for my next ink inspiration (the whole country is currently in lockdown, but a girl can dream), when i stumbled across a particular tattoo, featured in this fic, and this idea just came to me ah i hope you ENJOY!

 -

“A recent study concluded that people with tattoos are more likely to be so called experience seekers, and they tend to lean more towards rebellious, non-conforming lifestyles.” Spencer stated glancing between the group. His eyes lingering a little longer on you. “Research also shows, people who choose to get tattooed feel a stronger need to claim their identity and stand out from the crowd.”

Derek chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “Kid, not everyone that has a tattoo is an attention seeker or a criminal. Many who get inked lead perfectly normal and stable lives.”

“It’s a form of self expression.” Morgan continued. “It doesn't necessarily mean people with multiple tattoos are wildings. I mean look at Y/N, she’s got like ten and she's far from a non-conformist.”

All heads turned in your direction.

“Ten is an over exaggeration Morgan.” You replied with a light giggle before looking directly at Spencer. “It’s eight. I have eight tattoos.” You said shooting him a smile. A mix of intrigue quickly spread across his features.

Of course, he was aware you had a couple of tattoos. Like the tiny heart on your left index finger. The crescent moon just above your right elbow. Or the rose on the inside of your left bicep. Given that the two of you were similar in age, the young doctor didn't think you would have that many.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s a huge difference.” He teased, granting Penelope to nudge him in the arm. The bubble blonde then turned to you. “You have eight tattoos?” She asked with a raised brow. “How come I didn't know this about you? I know everything.”

“Because you never asked me and eight really isn't that much. Plus they’re all pretty simple and dainty. Well... actually... all apart from the snake slithering between my boobs.” You responded nonchalantly causing the males at the table to simultaneously choke on their drinks.

The girls all whistled before erupting into laughter at the suddenly red faces of the three boys. Hotch stared silently at the half-empty class in his hands, Derek nervously cleared his throat, while Spencer gaped at you completely wide-eyed.

The image you just painted circulating in his mind.

“Don’t be shy, tell us, any other risqué body art?” Emily chimed once the laughter died down.

“Uhm, there is one but I really don't think it’s appropriate to share.” You answered, a sly smile circling your lips. JJ and Emily both groaned at your response. “Now you have too!” The blonde exclaimed, but you just shook your head.

“Only a handful of people know what it is, and where it is.” Your eyes locked briefly with the brunette doctor sat across from you. Not enough time for anyone at the table to notice, but enough to get him a tiny bit flustered.

“What if we guessed?” Emily enquired, her eyes sparkling mischievously. You giggled. “If one of you manages to guess both what and where it is, I will tell you whether you’re correct.”

“I want in on this little bet.” Derek chimed confidently. “I can get you talkin’ hot stuff.” He shot you a playful wink and took another sip of his drink. Hotch snickered next to him. “I wouldn't be so certain Morgan.” “Oh, and you think you can?” Derek asked sarcastically. “Maybe.” Hotch poised, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right.” JJ clapped her hands. “Let’s make this interesting. Everyone that wants to take part place a ten dollar bet on themselves, and the winner will take the pot.” She turned to you. “We’ll give you the money for safekeeping and once one of us guesses correctly, you can rightfully pass the cash onto that person.”

“Sounds good to me.” You replied with a grin. “But what if none of you guess? Who keeps the money then?” “Do you forget who you work with? We’re FBI agents, profilers, one of us is bound to figure it out.” Morgan stated making you giggle.

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Oh! And whoever wins gets to see this mysterious ink of yours.” Emily added teasingly.

Just like that a pile of cash formed in the middle of the table. You reached out to grab it when a hand slowly slid across with a neatly folded ten dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes snapped up to meet the determined gaze of none other than the resident genius.

“I want to take part too.” He said, trying his best not to appear jittery. The grin currently embellishing your features swelled, and Spencer took note of the devilish sparkle in your eyes. “Well all right.” You responded, fingers brushing lightly against his as you retrieved the money. An instant spark tingled through both you and Spencer.

The night carried on. You were bombarded with questions that would give the team any sort of clue as to what the tattoo could be, but you didn't budge. It was a lot more fun seeing your friends struggle. The only person that didn't say anything further on the matter was the young doctor sat across from you. In true Spencer Reid fashion, he simply listened and observed.

About an hour later, he accompanied you to the bar for another round of drinks. After ordering for everyone, you quickly glanced at him. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” You asked causing him to break away from his thoughts and turn his attention to you. He lightly scrunched his nose.

“I’m just wondering when is the most appropriate time to tell everyone what your secret tattoo is.”

Your mouth parted ever in shock, eyes widened. “There is no way you know.”

“Actually, I not only know what and where it is. I also know when you got it and why.” He stated confidently.

“Alright then, tell me.” You challenged taking a step towards him. Spencer stiffened for a brief moment. Your sudden closeness caused the heat to rush to his face and his heart to skip a beat. All he could do was hope you didn't notice; which of course you did.

With a raised brow and your fingers tapping lightly on the wooden bar, you waited for Spencer to respond. You were about to say something like, ‘See, I knew you were bluffing.’, but he cleared his throat. Regaining his confidence.

“It’s the word ‘bite’ written in cursive on your ehm, on your left b-buttcheek. And you got it your freshmen year of university as a result of a drunken game of truth or dare with your friends. I believe it was either getting the tattoo or shaving your head.” He was, of course, correct. Every word.

You stared at him in disbelief. This you definitely did not expect. Spencer on the other hand seemed quite pleased with himself. It’s not often he’s the one to rattle you.

“H-how, how did you-” You shook your head. “You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.” Your lips twirled into a smile. “Congratulations doctor.” Without really thinking, you leaned in closer and placed a soft kiss on his cheek causing once again for the blood to rush to his face. Once you pulled away, his hand immediately travelled to the spot.

“What, uhm, what was that for?” He asked and you shrugged. “An extra prize considering it didn't even take you ninety minutes to win. I hope that was okay?” He quickly nodded his head. “Ye-a, yes.” “Good.” And with that you kissed his cheek again.

He couldn't help but grin proudly as the two of you ambled back to the table, each holding a tray of drinks.

“What’s got you so happy, kid?” Morgan asked, drawing attention to Spencer’s expression.

“Spencer just won your little bet.” You replied, placing the tray down and reaching into your purse for the money. Although his win was definitely part of the reason for his increased good mood, it had more to do with the spot on his cheek that was still tingling from your kiss. But he’d never say that out loud.

Gasps of shock echoed through the team. “What?! There is no way he’s won already!” JJ exclaimed. “He cheated. Did you give him extra hints because you have a soft spot for him?” Emily accused, narrowing her eyes.

“Nope.” Your mouth popped. “He definitely won fair and square.” You stated before shifting your body weight to look the young doctor. Smiling, you handed him his winnings. He didn't hesitate to take them, eyes never leaving yours.

“Well pretty boy, what is it?!” Derek enquired eagerly. Spencer waited for you to nod your head before turning to address the team. He revealed the design and location of your secret tattoo in one breath as you watched, finding their reactions amusing.

“How did you figure that out?” Penelope asked.

“A little mystery never hurt.” You chimed before Spencer got a chance to respond, and proceeded to intertwine your fingers with his. His head snapped first down at your glued hands, and then up at your face. He wanted to ask what was happening, completely forgetting what else the winning prize entailed, as you were leading him away from the table.

Morgan and Emily whistled after the two of you, the rest of the group laughing.

It wasn't until you were walking into the bathroom, locking the door behind, that the realisation hit Spencer. He swallowed his breath and opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

You quickly noticed the nervous look on his face. “We don't have to do this if you don't want to. If you’re uncomfortable.” You said in your usual kind and caring tone.

“No, uhm, it’s okay. B-but if you don't want to?” He mumbled. “I don’t have to see it if you don’t want to show me, or anyone for that matter. We can just pretend.”

You smiled at him, your hands travelling to the zipper of your jeans. “A bet’s a bet, and like I said, you won fair and square.”

“Y-you, are you sure you don't want to know how I figured it out?” Spencer asked, voice breaking. The palms of his hands began to sweat. He wasn't sure where to look. Did you want him looking directly at you? Or was he supposed to keep his attention on something else until you were ready to show the tattoo?

“A little mystery never hurt.” You repeated what you said earlier to the group and pulled your pants down, just low enough to display the tattoo in question.

Spencer’s gaze landed on the writing. At this point his heart was hammering inside of his chest, and he was sure it would explode any second. His eyes widened as he slowly licked his lips. He was sure this was the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Do you like it?” A seemingly innocent question, although the intention behind it was anything but.

Spencer nodded his head. “I-I...y-es, I do.” His eyes gradually moved up your body until they once again locked with your gaze. His pupils now flared.

A mischievous smirk escaped your mouth. “I always knew you had a naughty side, doctor.”

-

spencer reid taglist: spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner

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[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[samstree]

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (1/3)

In which Jaskier chooses to lie, until he can no longer tell the truth.

(lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, geralt apologizes, post mountain, miscommunication, rated teen, read on AO3)

A big thanks to @wanderlust-t and @a-kind-of-merry-war for the prompt! <3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]

“You are gonna run after him again, just like that? Don’t you remember what he did to you? What you went through?”

Essi leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching as Jaskier packs a second bag.

“Come one, poppet. Geralt was having a hard time back then, and now he’s come all the way to Oxenfurt to apologize.

“So what?”

“So I’m forgiving him.”

She grumbles a few rude words regarding the witcher’s lineage.

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

“And this is way too easy! Why can’t you see a disaster waiting to happen until it hits you in the face?” Essi exclaims. “Do you know what I would have done? I would make him grovel! Give him the cold shoulder. Or…or at least play it cool for a while longer so he knows not to take you for granted again! Sorry, but I’m…not like you.”

“Um…excuse you. I am plenty cool!”

“There’s nothing cool about being utterly in love and then getting cast aside over and over again, Jaskier. You know that.”

Jaskier sighs, walks to Essi and pulls her into a tight hug, all his scattered doublets ignored.

“I’m going to be okay,” he tries to tuck her curls away from her eyes but fails.

“Are you?” When she pulls back, there’s something inscrutable in those blue eyes, the curtain of blonde hair obscuring her emotions. “When you came down from the mountain, the way you couldn’t even … I don’t know. I just need to make sure it won’t happen again.”

“It—” Jaskier opens his mouth to make an easy promise, but finds the words choking in his throat. “I, um—”

Essi squeezes him on the shoulder. “He’s apologized, profusely from what you told me, and he’s being nice now. He will certainly be nice for a while, but what happens after he wins you back? What’s preventing him from hurting you again?”

Jaskier has no answers for her, so he resorts to giving her another hug.

“At least, think about my cold shoulder tactic. Sometimes people need the reminder, just so they know what they can easily lose.”

“Essi—”

“Think about it.”

She presses a small kiss on Jaskier’s cheek and leaves him to his packing. Outside the window comes the familiar sound of Roache’s hooves, clicking against the cobblestone.

Jaskier straightens his tunic and lets out a heave. He can see Geralt is being good now, friendly even, after all these years of denying their friendship. Now, the witcher is even waiting downstairs to begin their next journey.

Essi is just being overly protective, Jaskier decides.

He winds down the stairs and finds Geralt cooing at Roach. The urge to melt in those golden amber eyes is overwhelming.

“We good?” Geralt takes Jaskier’s bags and secures them on Roach, side by side with his saddlebags.

“Good,” Jaskier lies.

 ---

The truth is, Jaskier has heard of this so-called “cold shoulder” tactic. He’s even contemplated it for longer than he’s willing to admit. Every time Geralt dismissed him as a friend, brushed him off, Jaskier couldn’t help but want to retaliate with equal measure.

What if he’s the one to give Geralt a time-out? What if when Geralt tells him to fuck off, he just…leaves? The same idea churned in Jaskier’s stomach for two decades, but in the end, he knows the answer—he can never bring himself to go through it. His feet would carry him back to Geralt before even taking a step away.

He was left anyway.

But now…

Jaskier can’t afford to be left again. Essi was right. He isn’t sure if he can pick himself up again. He barely managed it the first time.

Jaskier lets out an audible scoff as he comes to the realization. He’s going to do it. The cold shoulder tactic. It’s so cheesy that it feels like something only school girls would use to get attention from a crush. Keep your distance, string him along a little. That’s how you get him to notice you exist—

“Something funny?” Geralt turns on horseback, sunlight peaking through his silver hair, a curious frown between his brows. He’s towering, beautiful. He has always been the most beautiful person Jaskier knows, even if he doesn’t know it.

Jaskier strums an absent chord on his lute. “Just something Essi said.”

“Hmm.” Geralt nudges Roach forward. “I was thinking… You’ve never seen a basilisk, have you?”

“No?”

“There are rumors about a nest in the next town. Want to see it?”

A hint of smile hints at Geralt’s lips, and Jaskier’s heart almost leaps out of his throat. A basilisk hunt is one he’s been dying to watch for years, if not decades. He’s drooling with excitement just thinking about the ballad that will certainly sweep the continent off its feet.

“Of course I want—" The sentence stops in its tracks. Jaskier bites his tongue to hide the slip. “You know what, I think I’ll stay in town. This new song needs some polishing before its debut. I’m sure a big witcher such as yourself doesn’t need a bard’s moral support for a meager basilisk, right?”

Jaskier adds a wink for good measure, but Geralt is not amused. He’s staring from his vantage point, his expression inexplicable. Is it really so shocking that Jaskier will turn Geralt down this once, after all this time?

“I understand.” Geralt pauses before continuing, almost too carefully. “Perhaps I can help? Sing it for me tonight?”

“Sing it…for you?” Jaskier asks, dumbfounded. The lute in his hands suddenly feels a lot weightier than it is.

“You wanted my review for so long, Jaskier. I’m giving it to you now. I’m sure your playing will be…nice.”

Geralt looks at him with hope in his eyes, and Jaskier can’t help but let his ego grow a little. It’s unbelievable that a simple refusal is what got Geralt to finally say anything positive about his music. The tiny triumph fills his chest with unexpected giddiness.

“Maybe I will. We shall see,” he replies. His fingers strike another chord.

Jaskier feels a spring in his steps, urging him forward to the mare’s steady gait. Golden amber eyes are burning a hole into his back, but he doesn’t dare to look back lest the tiny bubble of this perfect moment break.

 ---

Night falls, and Jaskier scribbles down another line. The door opens and Geralt drags his feet into their shared room.

Jaskier makes no effort to get up.

Once upon a time, he would have raced across the room to greet Geralt, checked for injuries and fussed over any scrapes and cuts, all the while getting dismissed with the witcher’s grumbled words. He’d help remove those heavy armors when Geralt’s muscles ache from exhaustion and get ichor all over himself.

He will not do that tonight.

Play it cool, Essi’s words echo in his memory. Right, he’s doing things differently now.

Jaskier fixes his gaze on the notebook in his lap and listens as Geralt shuffles around the room, putting everything back in place. One by one, his armor pieces drop in the corner of the room.

“How was it?” he asks with the most nonchalant tone as if he’s just noticed the other man’s existence.

“Fine. The basilisk’s dead.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier chooses the single hum uncharacteristically as Geralt puts his swords against the doorframe and sits down on the single chair.

He’s so still, hovering even.

“What?” Jaskier finally looks at him. Geralt, as he claimed, looks fine, with only a smudge of a black ichor sticking to his hair. A frown appears between his brows.

Adorable.

Jaskier shakes the thought quickly.

“Your new song?” Geralt prompts.

“Oh yeah. Never mind. I don’t feel like singing.”

It’s another lie. A necessary one, Jaskier tells himself.

“You,” Geralt says, raising an eyebrow, “don’t feel like singing?”

Jaskier clutches the notebook to his chest almost defensively, not sure what to do with the accusation. Is it a tragedy that Geralt knows him like the back of his hand? Or is it a shame that Jaskier is indeed buzzing with excitement to test out this song, with the most important person in his life?

“Well, I don’t.”

Jaskier keeps his chin up and scrambles off the bed to put away his books and pens. Geralt’s intent gaze is on his back again.

“Twenty years, and I’ve never known you to turn down an opportunity to sing.”

“I guess you don’t know me that well,” Jaskier bites back with a force that seems to come out of nowhere. “The bard may not want to entertain all the time, darling.”

The endearment sounds false, more like a jab. He lets out a dry chuckle and hopes to ease the tension but to no avail. Geralt’s eyes are wide with surprise. So Jaskier reaches for his bedroll as a distraction, but only serves to make the confusion deepen on Geralt’s face.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier lays it by the fire, on the soft rug that magically seems clean enough. It should be self-explanatory, but apparently not because Geralt is still staring quizzically.

“Sleeping.”

Geralt looks at the double bed and then back at Jaskier. “On the floor?”

“Thought I’d give you the space. I know how keyed up you are after the potions.”

Jaskier can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the nervous energy buzzing as more words he doesn’t mean comes out of his mouth. He crosses his legs on the bedroll and pulls the blanket onto his lap to hide from Geralt’s scrutiny. But then, something dawns on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier…” Geralt rubs his forehead, his face pinched. “What I said in Oxenfurt, I meant it.”

“You do?”

“You can count on me now. It won’t be like…before.”

Their gazes meet, and Jaskier bears the intensity of it with everything he has. He feels bare, seen through by the amber gold he’s missed and cursed and loved so much.

“I’m here, and I’m all here, Jaskier. Please believe in me.”

“I do.”

It’s not the truth despite how much he wants to believe it. Jaskier wonders if lying to Geralt ever becomes easier.

He doesn’t know what is not convincing him. Geralt looks so genuine, and Jaskier wants more than anything to trust him again, but the smile on his face feels too stiff.

The plan is going as Jaskier wanted. He’s showing Geralt that his friendship doesn’t come freely anymore, and the witcher needs to make more effort, meet him halfway, somehow. Then how come as the quiet night creeps in, Jaskier only finds a hollow space in his chest?

The roaring fire in the hearth warms his back, but Jaskier clutches his blanket tighter. It can’t stave off the coldness left by the lack of a witcher’s body by his side.

 ---

Jaskier continues with the same scheme the next day.

Ignoring Geralt is not a difficult task in the beginning. The barmaid is a beautiful thing, doe-eyed and curious, has too many questions for her own good. She keeps asking about Jaskier’s ballads, and wouldn’t quite believe any crazy stories in them.

“Is it true that the White Wolf fought a sea serpent on the Skellige Isles? Surely, those creatures only exist in legends!”

She’s getting familiar, pressed up against Jaskier on the bench, almost pushing him back into Geralt’s side—the real subject of the topic, but it’s obvious her fascination lies only in Jaskier. Her brown eyes stay on the bard alone.

“Why don’t we find somewhere more private and I’ll tell you all about it?”

“Is it a good one? It must be a heroic tale, isn’t it?”

“Heroic, of course. There’s also a twist. I won’t spoil it for you, but—” Jaskier winks, his fingers brushing past her wrist. “—it’s a love story that holds more heartbreak than you can bear.”

Her giggles are like soft wind chimes, and Jaskier guides her away from their table. He takes two steps and turns back, smacking himself on the head as if he’s only just thought of it.

“Oh, shoot! I know I promised to go the market with you, Geralt, but you see…” He gestures to the girl waiting expectantly in the near distance. There’s nothing I can do about it, he says with a shrug. “Have a good time, will you?”

Geralt is holding his tankard, his knuckles white and his face ice-cold. It’s like Jaskier is looking at one of those ice sculptures made by Oxenfurt’s art students every winter.

“You said you’d come.”

Geralt’s voice is so gentle, so full of dejection that Jaskier’s resolve almost breaks. He clears his throat and darts his eyes elsewhere. Those acting coaches back in school would have been disappointed in him for letting his emotions peak through, but Geralt doesn’t seem to notice what’s underneath this front.

“Surely you can find a new bridle for Roach by yourself,” Jaskier waves his hand in dismissal. “You are a big witcher.”

Geralt opens his mouth and closes it, before speaking again. “And the pastry shop you wanted to visit?”

Jaskier thinks of the lemon cakes he’s been itching to try and swallows the yearning in his throat. Gods, being with Geralt all day with not a care in the world, and with the best sweets on the continent. What is he doing turning all this down?

“Well,” he insists, “Better company comes before cake, my dear.”

With that, Geralt lets go of the topic. His amber eyes drop back to the half-finished ale. “Better company. I see…”

“Surely you understand, Geralt.”

“Just—” Geralt purses his lips in an attempt at a smile. “Don’t exaggerate too much.”

Jaskier should feel bad as he walks out the tavern door with a beauty on his arm, he should, but instead, a pang of anger rises in his throat. How many times did Geralt abandon him at the sight of Yennefer in the past few years? How long did he brood on top of that mountain, recounting every bad choice he’d made in his life and decided that it was all Jaskier’s doing?

For once, Jaskier doesn’t want to put Geralt first in everything, waiting for a bone thrown in his direction, and the witcher—this infuriating man—is going to act like a kicked puppy.

Horrified at this burning rage, Jaskier turns only to watch helplessly as Geralt walks down the street in the opposite direction. He’s planted to the spot, unable to chase Geralt down, and clueless as to whether this plan is doing him any favors other than the fleeting satisfaction of getting back at his friend who was at fault.

Was.

Geralt was at fault. Jaskier has forgiven him, or at least, that’s what he said at first sight of his witcher’s travel-weary face back in Oxenfurt.

And yet, he’s punishing him still.

The barmaid is still waiting for Jaskier’s stories, her cheeks still round with a timid blush and her eyes gleaming with expectations.

The colorful adventures taste stale on his tongue and she loses interest too quickly before returning to her post. His mood sours further as the day stretches on.

Jaskier ends up wandering around town without an aim in mind. The only place he’s carefully avoiding is the market, and the stable, and the smith’s shop. Anywhere he might bump into Geralt. When night draws in, a sudden downpour catches him off guard and drenches him from inside out.

Great. Just the perfect ending to the worst—well, the second worst day of Jaskier’s life.

Candles are still lit as Jaskier enters the room. He finds Geralt fast asleep already, and on the table, right next to his writing supplies, is a lemon cake.

It’s drizzled in honey and looks just as enticing as he imagined.

Jaskier picks it up and finds a lump forming in his throat, choking him with guilt. He wants to scream, to let out the frustration at all the mistakes made in the past and haunting him still. He wants to cry. It’s just…

Now, he doesn’t know if he still deserves to.

---

Okay, I know I'm being mean to Geralt here, but don't worry, I’ gonna be mean to Jaskier in the next one ;) 

Also, whatever Jaskier is doing here is very unhealthy. Don't try this at home.

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[weasleylangs]

crossed wires - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, Platonic Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: George has always felt second best to Fred. He’s never blamed Fred, of course, but the jealousy is getting to be too much when he’s convinced the girl of his dreams is in love with his twin.  Warnings: Miscommunication, jealousy, swearing Word Count: 3k

A/N: Oh look it’s Fae who can’t go three fics without writing friends to lovers with miscommunication wah. I combined two requests I got so I hope both of the anons enjoy it!! Also thank you to the lovely Zahra who once again helped me with a title <3

taglist: @amourtentiaa @whizboingies @harrysweasleys @lumos-barnes @weelittleweasley @freds-slut @starlightweasley @weasleyclaw @spacexcowgirl @lumosandnoxwriting​ @peroxide-prinxcesss (sorry your tag isnt working D:)

----------------------------------

It was a nice, warm spring day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and as usual, George finds Y/N sitting by the lake with a muggle book in her hand. Her usual weekend plan was simple, all she ever wanted to do was read, catching up on the story she’d left behind the weekend before.

It was one of the things George loved about her, that she was always able to sneak a book in somewhere and lose herself in the pages no matter what chaos was going on at the time. He stood a bit behind her, admiring her for a brief moment. Her hair was pulled up into space buns, loose pieces of hair falling and framing her face as she shook her head to move them out of her sight. She was curled up on a blanket she’d dragged down from Gryffindor tower and she was leaning against the tree right at the shore of the lake.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” George yelled and while he immediately regretted disturbing her, the cute look on her face she gave him for interrupting it made his heart swoon. “What do you want, Weasley?” 

She squints as if she’s trying to work out which twin is standing there but they both know she hasn’t mixed the twins up since she was 12. “Wanted your attention, as always.” He winks and Y/N hides behind her book in hopes he doesn’t see the shy look that overtakes her face. They’ve been friends for seven years, but George’s relentless and joke flirting never fails to make her face warm.

“Have you heard about Lee and Alicia?” George says, sitting down next to the girl and Y/N sighs, accepting she isn’t going to get any further into her book right now. “Did Alicia reject him?” The boy shakes his head as he chuckles. 

“Quite the opposite really. Thought she was going to cry of happiness when he’d asked her to Hogsmeade today.”

Y/N ponders his words. Lee and Alicia have always been a hard pair to pinpoint. One second they were flirting and annoying everyone with their public displays of affection and the next they were fighting over something stupid. “Hopefully this stops them bickering over my bacon and eggs in the morning,” Y/N mutters as she closes her book. 

She’s acutely aware that everyone in their year is starting to seriously pair up. Fred and Angelina had gone to the Yule Ball together the year before, she knows for a fact Roger Davis plans on asking Patricia Stimpson out sometime this week and with Lee and Alicia seemingly confirming their relationship she gets uneasy. 

“How do people do it?” She asks no one in particular, “I’m so scared of rejection I could never just ask someone out.” George knows how she feels, after all, he’s been wanting to ask out the girl in front of him for weeks, months maybe even years at this point. But he’s always been convinced no one sees him outside of the duo that is Fred and George, nothing more than a star quidditch player alongside his brother, a pranking prodigy alongside his brother.

“I don’t know, I barely mustered up the courage to ask you to the Yule Ball last year,” they both chuckle at the memory of George stumbling over his words as he asked Y/N to the ball ‘as a friend’, although George never admitted it to anyone, he so desperately wanted it to be more than friends. 

“I want to tell the boy I like that I like him but…” She trails off and George wonders why she’s being so coy. “I don’t know how to go about it.”

George thinks for a moment, thoroughly convinced Y/N is asking him because he’s positive she’s been crushing on Fred since their fifth year. 

“Well…” He pauses. Or should he tell her how Fred would like to be confessed to? “Something extravagant, of course. A grand gesture,” he laughs awkwardly and he knows Y/N isn’t fully convinced by the way she looks at him but she hums in agreement nonetheless. 

“Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a grand gesture romance kind of boy, Georgie…” She trails off and George resists the urge to tell her he actually told her how Fred would like to be confessed too, but before he knows it, she’s standing. “I have to go meet Angie, I’ll see you late George.”

-

George has been sulking all day at this point that not even a prank on Filch can get him to smile. Fred and Lee have been pestering him all day to ‘fess up what’s bothering him but he refuses to budge. He knows that if he even hints at what’s bothering him, Fred will reject Y/N and while he wants nothing more than to be the one she confesses to, he doesn’t wish the embarrassment of rejection on her.

“I think Georgie’s got girl problems,” Lee says, nudging Fred and puckering his lips as if to kiss him. Fred laughs and shoves Lee away, teasing him with a threat to tell Alicia he’s moving onto a Weasley brother but stops when he realises George isn’t laughing alongside them. “Wait, is it a girl problem, Georgie?” 

George can’t meet Fred’s eye for the first time in his life, but he knows he can never keep anything from his twin flame. “Yeah, it is.” The boys beside him whoop and holler, teasingly saying Georgie’s got a crush before they sit down on the couch in front of him. “What’s wrong, then? She rejected you?” 

George sighs, “No, no… I’m just positive she likes someone else.” Lee scoffs at this. “As if, you’re George Weasley, mate.” George laughs at Lee’s comment, knowing Lee is being completely honest. 

“Well, even if I am George Weasley, I’m just pretty sure she likes a different Weasley,” George says, not being able to meet Fred’s eye. George, admittedly, has no reasoning for believing Y/N likes Fred, it’s just always been the case. He’s never blamed Fred for this though, Fred has always just been the more noticed twin due to the fact he’s more exuberant and honestly, it never bothered him. 

Until now. 

- 

It’s two days later when Y/N drags Fred by his robes into an empty corridor. George hasn’t even looked in Y/N’s direction since their talk about crushes and she’s starting to get fed up, and what better place to get insider information than from his twin brother who doubles as his best friend.

“Geeze, woman, what is your problem?” Fred asks, fixing his robes that have now fallen off his shoulders. “What’s going on with George?” she demands.

Fred looks at her confused, having not noticed anything different going on with George beside his obvious sulking over a girl but he knows better than to mention anything like that to Y/N. Unlike George, Y/N was very happy to spill the beans regarding her raging crush on George to his twin brother and Fred’s been subtly trying to get them together ever since. When he asked Angelina to the ball last year, he purposely did it in front of both George and Y/N in hopes to inspire George to ask her to the ball himself and he can only hope that Lee and Alicia finally making it official could serve as some inspiration for his oblivious best friends. 

But now George has a crush on a girl, and while Fred hopes with everything he has that it’s on Y/N but he can’t be sure. 

“I haven’t noticed anything wrong with George,” Fred says, hoping Y/N doesn’t pick up on the lie. “We’ve been working on shop business, maybe he’s just busy?” 

Y/N pouts at this, wondering what she’d done for George to only act weird around herself. She plays with the ends of the sleeves of her robe as she thinks back to their last conversation, “I think I made him uncomfortable.” 

Fred cocks his head in confusion. George’s best friend beside himself and Lee has always been Y/N, and Fred thinks there’s not a thing in the world she could do that would make George upset, but before he can question her, she speaks again. “I mentioned I wanted to tell the boy I like that I like him but I think… I think maybe he realised I liked him and he’s backing away so my feelings go away.” 

Fred notices the tears starting to fill Y/N’s eyes and he quickly pulls her into a comforting hug. “Love, I don’t think that’s the case. George is dumb, but he’s not cruel.” He gently runs his hand through her hair as a comfort, knowing it calms her down. “Maybe… He likes you back, and he thinks you were talking about someone else?” 

Y/N ponders his words for a second, genuinely considering it. There’s a chance Fred is right, after all, he knows George better than he knows himself sometimes but Y/N is refusing to get her hopes up. “

What the pair don’t realise is that George has been looking for Fred for the last 10 minutes, after he was late to their meeting at the library to work out the kinks in their Skiving Snackboxes treats when he spots them. 

They’re still hugging but George is far enough to not be able to hear anything they’re saying and his heart sinks. He knew Y/N liked Fred and to him, the image in front of him is confirmation he’ll always be second best, even to his number one girl. 

He clears his throat as he gets closer and they jump apart, Y/N not being able to meet his eye makes his heart sink so he looks away, barely acknowledging her presence. “You’re late, come on Fred.” He’s blunt and both Y/N and George feel terrible at this moment. Fred senses the tension, quickly composing himself and bidding Y/N goodbye and grabbing George by the shoulder to leave. “What is your problem, mate?” 

George makes a noise that’s between a grunt and a ‘shut up’ as he quickly walks to the library, not wanting to confront the current feeling of jealousy rising in his throat. 

- 

George is the furthest thing from being on cloud nine as possible. His new lifetime ban from quidditch has made his already sour mood worse and he feels terrible for anyone who has come into contact with him in the last week. He wants nothing more than to fly out of this school on his broom and never look back while he finally opens the shop with Fred. 

His mood is somehow worsened when Y/N comes through the portrait hole. It’s 11pm and George was hoping he would have the common room to himself so he could sulk in peace and maybe work on some joke products. But she barely even acknowledges his presence on the couch, taking a quick glance at him and looking away and rushing up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. 

The sinking feeling in George’s stomach is back, as it always is when he sees Y/N these days. He’s convinced someone worked out his crush on her and told her, and that her only response to that was to blatantly ignore him. He can’t talk, he knows he can’t. He’s done his fair share of ignoring Y/N over the past week but he didn’t think he was being as obvious as her. 

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been sitting in the common room, furrowing his eyebrows and contemplating the situation until Fred waltzes down the boys' dormitory stairs, sleep in his eyes and his messy hair sticking up everywhere. “Why the fuck are you still awake, mate?” 

George shrugs. He knows he’s been short lately with Fred too, but it’s not Fred’s fault. Just anything these days brings jealousy to his stomach and he can’t bear the thought of ever being mad at Fred for something out of his control. “Still having girl problems?” George shrugs again. 

“Listen, mate, do you like Y/N?” George is taken aback by Fred’s forwardness and he feels his face heat up and he knows he’s bright red. “No,” he squeaks and the look of smugness on Fred’s face tells him he knows he doesn’t believe him. “Okay, fine, I do.” 

Fred doesn’t know what to do, he never expected to get this far in his line of questioning for George. He knows he shouldn’t tell Y/N’s deepest secret to George but it’s killing them both not being together and thinking they don’t like each other. Fuck it, Fred thinks as the words spill out, “She likes you too, you fucking git.” 

George looks at him, dumbfounded. “No she doesn’t, she likes you.” 

Now it’s Fred’s turn to look at his brother dumbfounded. Not even for a second did he ever consider Y/N would have feelings for him, even before she confessed her feelings towards George to himself. It’s always been Y/N and George in his mind, the sun and the moon, the stars and the planets. He can’t ever imagine Y/N fitting so perfectly with someone than his brother and then he starts to laugh.

“You think Y/N likes me? Are you seriously that daft?” 

George doesn’t appreciate this, his arms crossed protectively across his chest, “Don’t laugh at me. People always chose you.” He’s quiet in his words but Fred’s heart sinks. “Mate, you know that’s not true.” He takes the seat next to George, fully awake at this point. “It is though. And it’s not your fault, don’t worry. People always prefer the more outgoing twin.”

“I don’t.” 

George and Fred’s heads snap up to where the voice came from, spotting Y/N standing on the stairs in an old t-shirt and sleep shorts. She’s picking at the skin on her fingers, the nervousness obvious. “What did you just say?” George asks, timidly.

She walks down the last few stairs, “I said I don’t prefer the more outgoing twin. I’m-” she takes a deep breath as she prepares herself for the confession she didn’t plan on doing- ”quite fond of the shy, only a little bit responsible twin.” Fred is smirking again as he usually is, and quickly leaves the pair in the empty common room. 

“I thought you liked Fred,” George whispers when she takes Fred’s old spot, “I didn’t think I ever had a chance with you.” 

She giggles as she softly takes George’s large, calloused hand in her own and she rubs her thumb soothingly along the back of his hand. “You’ve owned my heart for years, Georgie. I thought I made that obvious last week on the lake.” 

George thinks back to the moment of the lake and everything makes sense. Why she was being so coy when she mentioned confessing to someone and he suddenly feels very dumb. He pulls her hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles. He can’t help but feel incredibly overwhelmed, by the emotion they’re both letting out and how beautiful Y/N looks by the warmth of the fire. “You’ve owned mine for years too. How dumb are we?” 

She shakes her head and cups his face in her hands, “We’re not dumb. Just…” she pauses, finding the right words, “Clueless.” She giggles and George realises how badly he’s missed being in her presence. 

“I’m sorry for the last week. I’ve been a right prat, haven't I?” She nods and laughs again. “You have, but this just means you can spend the rest of our lives making it up to me.” She teases and George raises an eyebrow at her. He’s quick to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap and shoving his face into her neck.

“The rest of our lives, huh? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we Y/L/N?” He teases, but he’s joking. He’d be perfectly happy spending the rest of his life making up for this past week if it meant spending the rest of his life with the girl in his lap.

“Hey, it’s taken us years to get together, I’m not letting you go now, Georgie.” She winks and George wants nothing more to press his lips to hers.

So that’s what he does. She makes a noise of surprise at first, and he almost pulls away out of fear that this isn’t what she wants. But she’s quick to pull him back to her. The kiss is desperate, years of pent up emotions and pining being communicated through it. 

Both their hearts felt like they were about to beat out of their chests and Y/N couldn’t help but think this was better than she could ever have imagined. George’s lips were slightly chapped, days of chewing on them out of nervousness would do that but it was so distinctly George that she didn’t care. George pressed against her lips harder, making Y/N let out a slight moan that only he could hear and he couldn’t help but smile. 

It was the most perfect first kiss either of them could have ever wished for and when they finally pull apart, Y/N can’t help but admire George. His hair is messy from having her hands run through it, his lips are slightly swollen and his cheeks are flushed red. He looks absolutely breathtaking and Y/N has to resist the urge to pull him into another kiss. 

“Does this mean you're my girlfriend, now?” George questions. Y/N pretends to ponder for a moment, both to lightly tease George and to genuinely contemplate her answer. But she knows in her heart, she wants nothing more than to be George’s and a smile slowly overtakes her face.

“Maybe take me on a date first?” 

[crimsonwolfie]

A Love Like In The Movies - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) have had a crush on Stiles, your best friend, since forever. Only...he likes the popular girl, Lydia...or so you thought.

Warnings: tinges of sadness, loneliness and a hint of heartbreak...but a ton of fluff :)

Word count: 3,071

masterlist

You tug at your bag, shoving about 3 books in at once in an attempt to be out of class as soon as the bell rings. Walking with your head down and hands clasping your bag up, you harshly bump into the new kid Henry, knocking him to the floor along with all his books and your papers....clearly you never remembered why your nickname was ‘Wobbly Whittmore’.

“Oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” You utter with one hand on your mouth and the other helping him up off the floor. He stares up at you with a dazed look and a small smirk, watching you help scramble up his papers and books.

“It’s chill, don’t worry”

You look up at him with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed for your clumsiness. “It’s not, honestly i’m so sorry. You haven’t even been here for a week and already you’ve been practically beaten up..” you shake your head “that usually happens at least 3 months in” you wink at him, laughing lightly. Henry laughs back whilst collecting more papers from the floor.

As you both sigh, your hands collide briefly. It was just for a moment...but it made you feel something. At first it was shock, but then something you’ve wanted to feel for so long...just with someone else...Stiles. Henry’s eyes dart up at you, his cheeks heating up slightly.

“I...sorry i should get going” he quickly adverts his gaze and gets up, picking up what’s in his hands “how many people can say they’ve encountered the nice Whittmore in their first week, huh?”

“Oh god you know about my brother already?” you huff, handing him his books “Some friendly advice since you’re obviously a decent guy...stay far away from him.” You laugh, once again feeling embarrassed for being related to...well...Jackson.

“Yeah he has a...well...a reputation so to speak. Thanks again, see you around, Y/N”

“Later Henry!”

Walking through the halls you can’t help but think of Stiles. He’s adorable, cute, beautiful, funny, smart, geeky but in the best way, kind, gentle...the list quite literally goes on forever. But in all the time you’ve known him...he’s always liked Lydia. The girl who your brother used to date. Since they broke up, Stiles has never been so smitten. Sure, she’s gorgeous and actually really nice...but she’s who he likes...she’s not you. I mean, you never know...he could like you. You’ve never actually mentioned it to him. But then if you do, and he turns you down, you’d be crushed... completely!

“Hey Y/N!” Stiles appears from around the corner of the lockers, making you jump a little.

“Jesus Stiles, don’t do that!” You hiss as you hold your hand over your heart. He throws his head back giggling. ‘God how cute he looks when he’s happy’ the little voice in your head says.

“You up for a movie marathon after school? I got your favourites...” he moves closer

“Harry Potter?!” You squeal, clapping your hands together 

“Only the best for the best” he smiles with all teeth showing. You silently fist pump the air as he holds his hand out for you to high five him, which you do. Your hands hover in the air, skin hot to the touch, until he breaks apart and places his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll go and find Scott and ask if he’s in. Knowing him, he’ll want to bring Allison and with Allison comes...”

“Lydia” you sigh

“Yes! She’s just so brilliant, isn’t she?” Stiles hummed, his face cheeky and merry like a child eating ice cream. You tried to hide the hurt with a faint smile, because seeing Stiles so happy just warmed your heart. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

“What’s up Y/N/N?” Stiles’ smile faded into a frown, concern painted across his perfectly honeyed eyes. Seeing this, you can practically feel your heart drop.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers as your soft Y/H/C hair slips in front of your face. “What? No...nothing. Rough day that’s all-”

“HEY Y/N” You look up to see Henry running towards you with one arm stretched out towards you, the other holding his bag strap. “You left this, when we spoke earlier” he hands you a pile of papers, all with your name on.

“Oh, my god...I’d be totally screwed if I didn’t have this for tomorrow’s math class. I’m so sorry. They must have got mixed up with your papers” you take the papers out of his hand and shove them into your bag, smiling shyly at both boys staring at you. “Thanks Henry, you saved my math grade” you laugh, causing Henry to blush and bite his lip ever so subtly, placing his hand on your arm and squeezing it playfully.

“No worries, Y/N. I’ll see you around” he winks at you, earning a frown from Stiles. 

“Who’s that geezer?” He remarks, his face furrowed with a mix of both dislike and anger. Little did you know, Stiles didn't like seeing other guys flirt with you. He began to feel this deep pit in his stomach, his blood beginning to boil. 

You turn to face Stiles, pushing your hair back behind your ear. Sheepishly you pat him on the shoulder “i’ll see you at 3? Parking lot?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies hesitantly, fidgeting with the rim of his flannel. You notice something’s got him wound up but decide it’s probably just him nervous to spend time with Lydia and continue to walk down the hall, making your way to health class.

━━━━━━━━

All throughout the rest of your classes for the day, you just felt empty. Nothing but heartbreak, emptiness, loneliness. Thoughts of him and Lydia snuggling up in blankets whilst eating popcorn and watching the movie kept bubbling around your brain. You tried to snap out of it, but nothing would work. You thought about just cancelling on the meet after school, knowing it would be way less painful. ‘They probably wouldn’t even notice I'm gone’ you thought. Your mind was like a prison that you couldn't escape...

“this must have been what Sirius Black felt like for 12 years” you mutter under your breath, not caring who heard. Sounds of faint chattering, pencils scribbling and the monotone voice of Mrs Rawlings can be heard around you, but none of it distracts your train of thoughts. Just begging for some sort of peace, you crash your head into your arms on the table.

“Hey, Y/N” you felt a gentle nudge on your forearm and look up to see Scott staring down at you, his hand on your arm. “What’s up with you dude? And who’s Sirius Black?”

You sigh with an overly dramatic eye roll, unwillingly plucking up enough strength to say once again that you’re ‘fine just a bit tired that’s all’...

“Tired.” is all you can spit out before shoving your head back into your arms. Little did you know, Scott could sense what you were feeling...I mean you didn't lie - he sensed tiredness...just mentally. Along with hurt, pain and loneliness.

“You sure? Well maybe after school you’ll feel better. Say, d’you reckon Allison likes...I don’t know...flowers? I... I was going to get her a bunch before I pick her up to go to Stiles’” You felt your tears drop into your sleeves, soaking both your jumper and your face as Scott continued. “Do girls like flowers? I’d ask Lydia but I'm closer with yo...”

“Yeah flowers whatever.” you mutter without lifting your head up. Scott scrunched his face, his brows furrowing. Usually, you were so much more supportive and excited for him - heck you were even more excited than him when you found out about him and Allison! You guys always told each other everything. ‘Something is definitely going on’ he thought to himself. He decided it was best to not say much more right now since he was already on a report in Mrs Rawlings’ class.

Just as Scott was about to hand you a note in class, the final bell rang. Instantly you popped up and grabbed your books, practically sprinting out of the door. Scott tried to stop you, but was called behind class by the teacher. You knew he was going to follow you, that's why you ran. No matter what, he couldn't see you like this, otherwise he wouldn’t drop it and would demand to know who hurt you - how could you tell him it was his own best friend?! As you’re jogging, you bump into the one person you wanted to avoid...

“Woah, slow down there cowgirl” Stiles holds your shoulders with his hands, his grip firm and comforting. He takes one look at you and notices your wet, blotchy eyes. You hang your head low in an attempt to hide your face from him...clearly it doesn't work.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up? Who hurt you?! his smile fades drastically upon seeing the state you were in. Obviously you weren't going to tell him, so you just decide to make up something...

“I failed my health class for the semester”

“Y/N it’s not the end of the world, you can always retake!” he sighs

You turn over to him with your hands in the air, shaking your head. “No you don’t un...you know what, Stiles? I can’t come over later. I’m sorry.” 

He steps back in surprise, both hands leaving your shoulders and grabbing his bag straps around his arms. Suddenly, you feel angry at him...though you instantly regret snapping at him. “i...I’m sorry” is all you can stutter as you run out the door, leaving Stiles standing there wondering what he did wrong, for what felt like hours, until Scott saw him.

“dude what're you doing? We got a marathon to start” he smacks Stiles on the back full pelt, leaving Stiles to stumble a bit.

“Have you spoken to Y/N today?” he asks, his voice trembly, quiet.

“Of course I have. Why, haven’t you?” The alpha replies

“No I have, it’s just...she was upset and i tried to help but she just...” he trails off   as Scott steps closer, Stiles’ eyes dull.

“She just what?” he asks, his voice calm and gentle

“She said she failed health class...”

“Wait, no that's not true - I got pulled behind class today because Mrs Rowlings wants me to have a tutor for health class and suggested Y/N since she’s acing everything!?” Scott explained. Stiles jerked his head, brows furrowing once again.

“Wait what?” his hand flew to his forehead as he leaned against the lockers beside him. “She snapped at me. I think I did something, Scotty...but I don’t know what. She’s been distant for a while now ever since Jackson and Lydia broke up, and I mean I know that her brother hates us but I just didn't think Y/N would choose her brother over us or me and i...”

“Stiles, stop.” Scott grabs both of Stiles’ shoulders and makes direct eye contact with him. “Listen, okay? I think I know what’s up”

“You do?” Stiles’ eyes brightened insantly. He knew something was wrong with his best friend and he knew he would do anything to fix that.

“She likes you, dude. Really likes you. And I thought you would have figured that out by now...she’s always doodling your name in class and covers it whenever someone passes by. Plus, she talks about you all the time.” Scott understood why you had been distant, and he didn’t blame you.

Stiles’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of red as a smile began appearing. His heart started pounding quicker than Quicksilver in the X-Men films, butterflies swarming around his stomach and ribcage. “Seriously? Then why is she distancing herself from me?”

“Because she still thinks you’re in love with Lydia...her heartbeat quickens when she’s with you, or when you guys touch in some way” Scott’s tone becomes more serious, which is unusual for Scott. Typically, he’s always goofy around Stiles so clearly he meant what he was about to say next... “But when you’re with Lydia, her mood changes. I can sense it...It’s sort of sad, lonely...” his face melts just thinking of all the times he’s felt that same pain. “You gotta tell her how you feel, Stiles. Tonight.”

“But I can’t...she’s not coming!” Stiles replies with a croaky voice.

“Then you go to her!” Scott replies, his eyes wide with hope and his hands pressing on Stiles’ back, pushing him towards the door “go now, dude!” Stiles picks up his pace and jogs to the door, one hand gripping his bag strap and the other fiddling with his keys in his pocket. “And let me know how it goes” Scott shouts as Stiles leaves the building.

━━━━━━━━

As you reach your front door, you feel a tear trickle down your cheek. All you could think of was Stiles. How he would, at this moment, be snuggling and giggling with Lydia. You have nothing against her, in fact you are actually really fond of her, but it breaks your heart to know you aren't the one who can make the boy you love, fall for you. A pain runs through your chest as you slam the door shut, your breathing wheezing. Leaning against the door, you slide down...completely breaking down.

“Why doesn’t he look at me that way?” you mutter to yourself, head in arms as your cheeks soak into your sleeves. “All I've ever done is try and make him happy, try and make him realise how incredible he is...and he still doesn't see me the same way”

Nose sniffling, eyes red, head fuzzy, hands shaking and top wet...you get up. ‘You did the best thing. It was the right decision to stay home’ you think, knowing it would have just ruined your friendship if you told him how you felt. And anyway, you wanted him to be happy. And clearly, that wasn't with you...

You ran upstairs and changed into a comfy pair of joggers and an oversized top, chucking your slippers on and grabbing a blanket before heading back downstairs. If you couldn't join their movie night - you’d have your own! 

Snacks and a drink were sitting on the table beside you on the sofa, with the television on ready and curtains closed. Just as you had got yourself in a comfy position, the doorbell rang. You grunted, kicking the blanket off your legs and dragging yourself towards the front door. Opening it, you felt your breath escape you. It was Stiles, standing at the door, with a bouquet of beautiful flowers in his hands. His hair was messy as if he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times, his cheeks were flushed brighter and pinker than bubblegum, looking as if he was out of breath from rushing somewhere. You go to say something, but before you had the chance, Stiles speaks, “Hi! I uh....I didn’t know whether you were mad at me or whether you were just having a rough day but it seemed like you were mad at me so I wanted to see if you were okay and uh...I got you these” His arms stretched to give you the flowers, his face ridden with nerves. You looked down at the flowers and then back up to Stiles’ face.

“Why would you think i was mad at you?” You questioned, brows furrowing at the confusion of what was happening. “These are gorgeous, thanks Stiles” you coo with a smile on your face, taking the flowers from Stiles’ hands. As you grab them, your hands touch Stiles’, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to flutter. Stiles’ own cheeks flushed at the touch of your hands, too.

“You seem distant with me lately. And Scott told me why...” he begins, fingers fidgeting with the rim of his checkered shirt “I like Lydia...” he trails off.

Upon hearing these words, you feel your heart drop. Mouth dry and sadness creeping into your mind, you feel clouded with emotions and thoughts. Why would Stiles come over, give you flowers and then declare his love for Lydia? “Yeah I kno...” you begin until he cuts you off,

“She’s my friend. And she’s amazing...but she doesn’t wait for me after classes. She doesn’t call me to check in once in a while. She doesn’t do anything in her power to make sure I'm happy or know I'm loved...” his beautiful brown eyes stared lovingly into yours, your heart lifting and beating faster with each sentence he says...

“She doesn’t know me, and I mean the real me...the one who suffers with anxiety, who needs a nightlight and needs constant reassurance on even the simplest things” you smirk at the mention of a nightlight because, well, you were the one who actually got it for him...because you knew he wasn't doing too good. “She is my friend, Y/N, but she isn’t my best friend. And I like her, but I don’t love her...because I love you. It’s always been you”

There’s a soft wind that blows between you both, causing you to shiver and shake with both excitement and chills. Stiles’ eyes glittered in the sunlight like an ocean surface in summer, tears welling in them. You bit your lip which trembled with an overcoming emotion of happiness as you leant forward and grabbed him, cupping his face in your soft hands and bringing your lips to his in a desperate yet passionate way. Feelings of euphoria and desire filled both of your hearts like a fire burning bright, lips moving sweetly in sync as in destined for one another. His hands wrap around your waist as you bring your hands through his hair. Nothing felt more perfect than this moment...all your worries gone and your heart fuller than ever before because the boy who holds your heart, who has held your heart for years, is finally in your arms. Stiles’ warmth radiates onto your cheeks as you smile into the kiss, earning a smile from Stiles, too. Breaking away to breathe, you both look down and giggle, hands intertwining with Stiles rubbing circles on your palm with his thumb.

You look up at him, smiling, as you speak “I...I love you too”. Stiles coos as he pulls you closer to him to break the gap now between you both, “I gathered” he laughs, kissing the top of your forehead affectionately. “So, how about that marathon?”

Hope you guys like it! x

[inawickedlittletown]

Queerbaiting and Buddie

(word count: 1,900)

I keep saying that I don’t want to spend any more time on 9-1-1 meta or fic, but the events of this weekend made me open up a document where I had some unfinished meta and in light of the S4 finale airing tonight, I thought I might at least write this: 

“Queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation. They do so to attract a queer or straight ally audience with the suggestion of relationships or characters that appeal to them, while at the same time attempting to avoid alienating other consumers.” 

That is how Wikipedia defines queerbaiting. And I really feel like everyone needs to read that and then read it again and realize that what is happening on 9-1-1 with Buddie is NOT queerbaiting. 

I don’t want to go into the long history of queerbaiting because we would be here all day and anyone that wants to do some research should go and do so. There are a lot of resources out there. Use them. 

But the short of it is this: queerbaiting has a lot more to do with the way a show is promoted, with the way that anyone involved in the show talks about a queer ship, and with the show deliberately scripting scenes that hint at a relationship without any intention of following through. Expectations and wanting a queer ship to go canon and those expectations not being met do not alone equate to it being queerbaiting. 

For any of us that have been around a long time there are a lot of perfect examples and if you compare Buddie to any of them, they are very different. I’ll name a few:

Merlin/Arthur

John Watson/Sherlock

Emma Swan/Regina

Derek/Stiles

Castiel/Dean Winchester (though they did go canon...barely)

Lena/Kara

Buck and Eddie do not fit into that list. Which isn’t to say that someday they could belong there, but I just do not believe that they will even if Buddie never becomes canon. And this all lies in how Buddie as a ship has been treated both on screen and off. I’ll break it down by season. 

S2: 

Eddie is very clearly introduced as a new character, a straight Army veteran with a disabled kid and family drama. He and Buck have immediate chemistry. We can’t deny that, or deny that from that first episode there are immediate sparks. Unintended sparks, but sparks nevertheless. And it is easy to tell that no one on the production team expected that and the story reflects that. 

Yes a foundation for their friendship is formed and yet the season long story focuses on Eddie’s relationship with his estranged wife and Buck is dealing with his own growth after being left by Abby. Their friendship shines and their scenes are great but none of them suggest romance and there are actually a lot of episodes where Buck and Eddie barely interact in S2 aside from in the background or for small work related moments (this mostly happens after Shannon returns). 

S2 does give us the first acknowledgement from the powers that be aka Tim Minear that they know what the fans have seen. This is why the elf scene exists, but it exists in a space where it’s a nod to the fans and not meant to do much more than that. The other moment is during the call with the livestreamer. But S2, places them completely and without question on a strong friendship. 

S3: 

We see a lot more conflict for Buck and Eddie in this season and we see how close and important they are to each other. Those are the two main things. That can be read as friendship easily and it’s a season where both Buck and Eddie deal with their pasts and in one way or another start to get closure while their friendship remains intact. 

Yes there are some scenes that make us squint and go huh, wtf? (I’m looking at you kitchen scene), but narratively we also know that neither of these boys is ready for a real relationship with anyone, let alone each other. But we can bask in how close they are as well as how Christopher fits in into all of it. 

But in S3 we are also introduced to Ana and we see the return of Abby. We also get to see that Buck and Eddie have become closer than ever and that the lawsuit only serves to highlight the importance that they both feel about having the other available to them. I’ll also quickly mention that Eddie Begins worked hard to highlight Buck’s devotion to Eddie. 

S4: 

Without considering the events of the finale (I am avoiding spoilers and know nothing about it or the speculation), we’ve seen Buck and Eddie both grow and get further closure on their past. This season has paralleled them well and their friendship has not faltered, they’re as close as ever. 

The beginning of the season was heavily focused on Buck and we saw him grow as a person and begin to work on himself in a healthy way and we’ve seen Eddie be supportive of that. 

We also have Ana to consider and her relationship with Eddie as well as the return of Taylor and yet the appearance of these women has not changed the Buck and Eddie dynamic. And I find it fascinating that Eddie beginning to date Ana, is the thing that prompted Buck to start dating. The parallels are all over the place but it is the strength of the friendship and the way they care so deeply about each other that remains whether that becomes romantic is still to be seen, but it could still go either way.  

Off-screen by the end of S2, Tim Minear had already addressed Buddie by throwing in that elf scene in a wink/nudge fashion that said “I see you” and in the scene with the girl with the livestream with the comments. During S3 he tweeted about being frustrated by the fans demanding and being hostile and thinking that that would make him more likely to do what they want (I’m paraphrasing what I remember seeing). Tim has never once said that Buddie will happen or shut the door on the ship entirely, but he did say he did not want to engage in conversation about it because he doesn’t want to get into arguments with fans. 

Oliver has always been enthusiastic about Buddie and has even said that he would be perfectly fine with it happening both a while ago and more recently in promo for S4. Conscious of queerbaiting and not wanting to give fans false hope, he has specifically said that he does not know if it will or won’t happen and that he wouldn’t speak on that as he’s not the one making that decision. His support for it happening does not mean he has any sway one way or the other. He’s said this a few times and even wrote a letter to the effect to make it clear to fans that the last thing he wants is to disappoint someone due to something he’s said. 

All in all, it just isn’t a constructive environment for anyone working on the show to interact with fans on this topic because any time that they do, they get attacked by overly enthusiastic buddie shippers that in many ways are making everything worse. 

In all of the interviews from Tim that I’ve seen, he has always been very quick to hint at what was coming up on the show in a way that at times has been misleading on purpose. The number one thing that comes to mind is early in S4 where Buck was said to get a new woman in his life. Tim absolutely made it out to seem like it was a girlfriend while knowing fully well that it was a therapist. This is an excellent example of what promoting and hinting is actually like. No one from this show has done that in regards to Buddie. 

No one has gone out of their way to hint that it may happen in a way that excites the fans. And this is one of my main reasons for knowing that Buddie is not a queerbait. At no point in the life of the show so far has anyone used Buddie in a promotional way to bring in viewers. Because THAT was the whole point of queerbaiting in the past. 

It was a way that some showrunners found to bring in a lot of viewers when they needed to up their numbers in order to show networks they were worth keeping around. Someone figured out that LGBTQ people wanted to see themselves represented so much so that they would tune in to anything that promised an LGBTQ character in some fashion. It was a tactic that worked well in the landscape of tv where there was so little LGBTQ content on mainstream media that anyone wanting it would latch onto anything. And then they just wouldn’t deliver on those relationships or characters. In 2021, that is not the world we live in any longer. 

In today’s tv landscape there is so much to watch and so much to pick from and diversity has grown, it is celebrated. Queer characters are well represented as are queer relationships and queer stories. The times are different. A while back I was listening to a podcast (Bait: a queerbaiting podcast) and something I found interesting was how the hosts both agreed that in today’s tv landscape there is no more real queerbait and that we won’t easily find anything like the ships I mentioned above. I think I agree more with this than I expected to, because I do think that it exists in some spaces, but it definitely isn’t what it used to be. This is a good thing. 

Specific to 9-1-1, this is a show that has that diversity and that isn’t afraid of tackling that diversity and giving us interesting and nuanced perspectives and stories embracing that. We have characters of color, women in positions of power, a F/F relationship, two multi-racial relationships, a disabled character, other queer characters including a M/M relationship. There is so much in this show that embraces diversity and that embraces the reality of what the world looks like. To call it queerbait is to disrespect everything else that this show is and has done and the hard storylines that have been tackled that we would not have seen on tv ten years ago. 

And I get that Buddie would be another breakthrough. It would be a novel way to tell a queer story, and it would be amazing if it were to happen. The set up is there, but it isn’t fully realized, and Buck and Eddie can still be read as just friends if we take off the shipping goggles. But it also isn’t queerbait or likely to become queerbait and people have to stop calling it that. 

What Buddie resembles is one of the many unintended slow burn ships that have frustrated viewers in many forms across fandoms and we just have to go along for the ride and maybe it will happen. Or maybe it won’t. But if we know anything about relationships on tv, it is that a lot of the fun comes from the journey, even if the destination is good too.