#i don’t even know why i’m doing this honestly

[edenfenixblogs]

I actually really appreciate how honest you are here!

And I think it is FINE to have no clear opinion. I actually think it’s great to admit that you don’t have the background or expertise to comment on a subject.

Some will say it’s about sacred land. But most Jewish people will say it amounts to a land back movement, because Jews are indigenous to the region and have been living in exile for a long time. Many Palestinians will say the price of Jews returning home has been to subjugating Palestinians. Jews and Palestinians will disagree both within their own groups on this as well as with each other’s groups. It’s complex and totally ok for you to say “not my circus, not my monkeys” and nope out of it. I honestly wish more people would do that tbh.

The part that is both offensive and that causes harm to Jews is when you make blanket statements about large swaths of our identities. The total percentage of Jews who call themselves Zionists is hard to pin down. But it’s typically estimated between 60 and 95%. Definitely the majority of Jews. Most figures I’ve seen exist between 70-80%. I’m not a Zionist, because there are MANY branches of Zionism and none fully reflect my views. But the general idea that Jews are from Israel, are indigenous to Israel, and exist in diaspora is something I do believe. That has 0 to do with how I feel about Palestinians, and I don’t want any harm to come to anyone because of Jewish indigeneity.

But most Jews who call themselves Zionists (which, again, is most Jews) feel the same way. A lot of us Jews everywhere in the world have had a lot of people say and do horrific stuff to us since 10/7 in the name of “freeing Palestine,” but it amounts more to harming Jews than helping anyone. And most of the people Reblogging that stuff haven’t done or said anything to help or even ACKNOWLEDGE Jewish suffering which is also extremely widespread right now.

If you are going to talk about this subject, I’d recommend talking to Jews and expressing interest in why and how we think and feel the way we do about things.

Or if you don’t want to talk to Jews, please PLEASE read “People Love Dead Jews” by Dara Horn. It’ll do a lot of work to explain how you can inadvertently end up perpetuating antisemitism by doing things you think are harmless. If you want a copy I can literally GIVE you one. Please.

But if you can’t be bothered to learn about half the people affected by a conflict then you probably shouldn’t be speaking about it.

I also have plenty of resources on my blog and can link to specific posts if you like. There’s nothing wrong with not knowing stuff. But there is something wrong with acting like you do when you don’t.

pleaaaaaase y'all the process of having a manufacturing facility declared kosher has nothing to do with a rabbi blessing the food

pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase stop

you can literally google what is required

[atlabeth]

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. 

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad. 

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him. 

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion. 

Why? 

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him. 

But he did. 

For you. 

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn. 

So much for not being obvious. 

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least. 

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him. 

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you. 

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says. 

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.” 

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?” 

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.” 

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.” 

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said. 

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!” 

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?” 

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!” 

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him. 

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.” 

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns. 

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown. 

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

-

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it. 

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own. 

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with. 

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly. 

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.” 

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.” 

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—” 

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this. 

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.” 

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”) 

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean. 

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you. 

The thought crossed your mind more often than not. 

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not. 

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day. 

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under. 

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms. 

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment. 

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out. 

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond. 

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly. 

“Can I come in?” 

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?” 

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says. 

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.” 

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper. 

“And?” 

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.” 

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?” 

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.” 

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance. 

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.” 

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.” 

“Maybe I just like silence.” 

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.” 

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel. 

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—” 

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad. 

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.” 

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you. 

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU. 

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable. 

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical. 

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—” 

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself. 

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?” 

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.” 

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?” 

“Which one do you want?” 

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.” 

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill. 

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.” 

He shrugs. “Why not start now?” 

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?” 

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back. 

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?” 

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says. 

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap. 

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?” 

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.” 

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?” 

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.” 

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.” 

You scoff. “I do not.” 

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.” 

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.” 

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks. 

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.” 

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.” 

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks. 

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.” 

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—” 

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut. 

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?” 

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says. 

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.” 

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.” 

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.” 

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.” 

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have. 

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid. 

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.” 

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?” 

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.” 

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.” 

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.” 

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.  

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.” 

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.” 

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.” 

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?” 

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.” 

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.” 

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.” 

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.” 

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.” 

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?” 

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.” 

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.” 

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.” 

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.” 

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?” 

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask. 

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.” 

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.” 

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.” 

You laugh. “Part of our truce.” 

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.” 

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while. 

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.” 

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.” 

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.” 

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.” 

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse. 

“Does our truce include this?” 

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave. 

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.” 

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat. 

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze. 

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed. 

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable. 

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax. 

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it. 

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight. 

[buttercandy16]

What She Deserves...

PAIRING(s): Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: In a world devoid of omegas, Agatha Harkness becomes fixated on her beta neighbor, willing to do whatever it takes to claim her.

WARNING(s): Omegaverse, Dub-con, Obsession, Cheating, Forced Transformation and other Dark Themes.

A/N: Two fics in one day? I'm on a roll, lol! Time for some Alpha Agatha to claim me... I meant you... or us?

The night was moonless, the perfect backdrop to Agatha Harkness’s restless prowling. Salem was quiet these days, much quieter than Agatha preferred. The world had changed; omegas, once sought after and cherished, were no more. The natural order had shifted, leaving only alphas and betas to navigate the complexities of their desires.

Agatha wanted more—needed more. For centuries, she had used her power to survive and thrive, but loneliness gnawed at her now. She longed for the soft yielding nature of an omega, for the irresistible pull of a bond. No beta could match the primal fire in her, no matter how desperately they tried. Then, fate intervened.

When the moving truck pulled up next door, Agatha leaned against her window, watching with detached interest. A couple, newly married from the looks of it, stepped out, smiling and holding hands. Two betas, utterly unremarkable. Her gaze lingered, however, as the wife’s laugh carried through the air, melodic and warm, laced with something that sent a spark down Agatha’s spine.

Interesting.

Her new neighbor—you—was the epitome of charm. Your kind smile and bright eyes captured the attention of everyone who came to welcome you to the neighborhood, but it was the way you walked, moved, and carried yourself that made Agatha’s heart twist. There was something beneath your beta exterior, something she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t long before her curiosity became obsession.

Over the weeks, Agatha ingratiated herself into your life. She’d drop by with welcome gifts, offer to help with the garden, and invite you over for tea when your husband was at work. You couldn’t understand why you were drawn to her company so fiercely, but there was a magnetic quality to her presence that you couldn’t resist.

“Do you ever feel like you’re meant for something… different?” Agatha asked one evening as the two of you sat by her fire. Her voice was low and smooth, curling around your thoughts like a whisper of temptation.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, staring into the flames. “Sometimes I feel out of place. Like I’m missing something, but I don’t know what.”

Agatha smiled, the kind of smile that would have warned anyone wiser to tread carefully. “Perhaps you just haven’t discovered who you truly are.”

It wasn’t coincidence that you began feeling odd a few days later. Your emotions grew unpredictable, your body feverish, and your senses heightened in ways you’d never experienced. Agatha, always conveniently close, reassured you.

“Your husband’s not a doctor,” she chided when you insisted you were fine. “Let me take care of you. Trust me.”

You did.

She concocted teas with herbs you’d never heard of and whispered strange words into the air when you were too tired to question. She stayed close, too close perhaps, but you were too distracted by your own turmoil to see her true intentions.

Her plan was working.

She had found an ancient spell buried in forbidden texts, a ritual designed to awaken dormant omega traits in betas. It wasn’t supposed to exist in this world, but Agatha was nothing if not resourceful. You, her beautiful and unsuspecting neighbor, would be her masterpiece.

The night you fell into Agatha’s grasp felt like falling into a storm—a force far greater than yourself, impossible to fight. It started as a faint haze of discomfort in your veins, a whisper in your body that turned into a scream. You couldn’t control it, couldn’t understand it, but Agatha… oh, she understood it perfectly.

Her knocking on your door that evening was no coincidence. You had spent the entire day spiraling, feverish and restless, aching in ways that frightened you. Your husband had tried to comfort you, his hands fumbling as he touched your sweat-slick skin, his concern obvious, but his presence was unbearable. He smelled wrong, his voice grated against your senses, and the thought of him even looking at you during your vulnerability made your stomach churn.

Agatha had known. She always knew.

“Darling,” she cooed as you opened the door, her violet eyes sharp with concern—and something darker. Her touch, deceptively light, found your trembling hand, grounding you instantly. Her scent was intoxicating, calming the chaos inside you just enough to make you forget the warning alarm in your brain. “You look terrible. Let me help you.”

You hesitated, clinging to a last shred of caution. "I... I don’t understand what’s happening. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Agatha stepped closer, her voice soft, hypnotic. "It’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart. Your body is finally awakening to its true nature. Let me take care of you. I can make this better."

Desperation clouded your judgment, and before you knew it, you were in her home, her hands guiding you to a comfortable chair by the fire. Her touch was everywhere—gentle on your shoulders, soothing on your back, each caress unraveling your defenses. She offered you tea laced with faintly glowing herbs that smelled of earth and magic. When you drank, the liquid burned in your veins, igniting something so primal you gasped.

Agatha’s smile widened as she crouched before you, one hand resting on your knee, the other cradling your chin. "Feel that?" she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "That’s you transforming. Your body knows exactly what it needs now."

Your skin burned under her touch, your pulse roaring in your ears. Something about her proximity set your senses ablaze. Her scent filled every breath you took—lavender, dark spices, and something raw, something Alpha.

"I need—" you started to say, but your words faltered, your voice caught between a whimper and a growl.

Agatha tilted her head, feigning innocence though her eyes betrayed her cunning. "Need what, darling? Tell me."

You couldn’t. You didn’t know how. Your instincts were at war with logic, and the only thing grounding you was Agatha. Her smirk deepened as she leaned closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Say it," she purred, her voice molten and commanding. "Say what you need."

You shuddered, torn apart by the intensity of her presence. Every rational thought drowned in the tidal wave of heat coursing through you. Her touch dragged you down further, and then she whispered the word that sealed your fate.

"Me."

You trembled under Agatha's intense gaze, her words echoing in your mind like a siren's call. Me. The thought both terrified and thrilled you. Your body cried out for her touch, for her dominance, and the force of that need scared you. You weren't supposed to want this—want her—like this.

Agatha seemed to sense your hesitation, and she pulled back slightly, her hand still resting on your knee. "It's alright," she murmured, her voice soothing even as her eyes glittered with dark promise. "You don't have to be afraid. I can help you through this."

Help. The word was a lifeline in the storm of your new sensations. You needed help, needed something to ground you in the chaos of your awakening omega instincts. And Agatha offered that, along with the temptation of her touch, her scent, the magnetic pull of her alpha energy.

Slowly, you nodded, surrendering to the inevitable. Agatha's smile widened, victorious and hungry. She leaned in closer, her hand sliding from your knee to your thigh, her touch burning through the fabric of your pants.

"Good girl," she purred, her breath ghosting over your lips. "Now, let's get you out of these clothes. We need to see what's happening to you."

Your breath hitched as Agatha stood, her hands already working on the buttons of your shirt. You watched, mesmerized, as she pushed the fabric off your shoulders, exposing the smooth expanse of your skin to the warmth of the fire. Her eyes raked over you, filled with approval and something else—something dark and possessive.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers trailing down your collarbone, over the swell of your breasts. "So perfect."

You shivered at her touch, your nipples hardening under the fabric of your bra. Agatha's lips curved into a wicked smile as she leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the valley between your breasts.

"Can you feel it, darling?" she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. "The heat in your blood, the ache between your legs? That's your omega nature rising to the surface."

You could feel it—the raw, primal need that pulsed through your veins, demanding attention. Your body felt like a livewire, every nerve ending screaming for stimulation. And Agatha seemed to know exactly how to touch you, how to stoke the fire within you.

She straightened up, her hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. "Let's get these off you," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "I want to see all of you."

With a quick movement, she tugged your pants down your legs, leaving you bare before her except for your bra and panties. The cool air of the room hit your skin, making you gasp, but Agatha's eyes were like a physical caress, warm and approving.

"Look at you," she breathed, circling you slowly, drinking in every inch of your exposed flesh. "So beautiful, so ripe with potential. You're going to be a stunning omega."

The word sounded foreign on her lips, but somehow right. Omega. It explained the ache in your body, the restlessness in your soul. It explained the inexplicable draw you felt towards Agatha, the alpha who stood before you now, her eyes dark with desire.

Agatha stepped closer, her hands cupping your face, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. "I'm going to take care of you," she promised, her voice low and firm. "I'm going to show you what it means to be an omega, to submit to your alpha. And you're going to love every second of it."

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation mixed with a hint of fear. You knew you should be scared, should fight against the pull of her dominance. But your body craved her touch, craved the relief only she could provide.

As if reading your thoughts, Agatha's hands slid down your body, one cupping your breast through your bra, the other dipping between your legs, pressing against your aching core through the damp fabric of your panties.

"Can you feel how wet you are?" she murmured, her fingers rubbing slow circles over your clothed sex. "That's your omega essence, darling. It's nature's way of preparing you for mating."

The word made your head spin, but it was the pressure of Agatha's fingers that made you gasp, made your hips buck forward involuntarily. Agatha chuckled darkly, her fingers slipping beneath the hem of your panties, caressing your slick folds directly.

"So responsive," she purred, her touch gentle but firm. "I can't wait to break you in properly."

Break you in. The words should have terrified you, but they only served to heighten your arousal. Your body craved submission, craved the dominant touch of an alpha. And Agatha was more than willing to provide that.

She continued her slow exploration of your body, her fingers gliding over your sensitive flesh, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra, dipping between your legs to gather your slick essence. All the while, she whispered words of praise and possession, telling you how beautiful you were, how perfect, how utterly hers.

You could feel yourself losing control, your omega instincts taking over as the alpha's touch consumed you. Your hands clutched at Agatha's shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of her shirt as she brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer. "Please, Agatha..."

She smiled against your skin, her teeth grazing your collarbone. "Please what, darling?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr. "Tell me what you need."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you could voice your deepest desires. But the fire in your veins demanded satisfaction, demanded release.

"I... I need you," you gasped out finally, the words raw and honest. "I need you to make me yours."

Agatha's eyes flashed with triumph and hunger. "Oh, I will," she promised darkly. "I'm going to claim you in every way imaginable. I'm going to fill you with my seed and make you scream my name until everyone knows you belong to me."

The dirty words sent a shiver of excitement through you, even as a small part of you knew this was wrong, knew you were betraying your husband. But your body didn't care about right or wrong—it only cared about the alpha who held it in her thrall.

With a low growl, Agatha captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to claim every inch of you. At the same time, her fingers found your aching clit, rubbing hard and fast until you were writhing against her, desperate for more.

"Come for me," she commanded against your lips, her fingers never ceasing their relentless pace. "Show me how much you need this."

Her words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of release, you came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure crashed through you. Agatha held you through it all, her touch steady and dominant, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy until you collapsed against her, boneless and sated.

But even as you caught your breath, you could feel the need building again, could feel the omega inside you demanding more than just a quick orgasm. She demanded completion, demanded an alpha's knot and seed.

As if sensing your thoughts, Agatha picked you up easily, cradling you in her strong arms as she carried you towards the bedroom. "Don't worry, darling," she murmured, her voice low and reassuring. "I'm going to give you everything you need."

And as she laid you down on the soft bed, her body covering yours, you knew she was right. This was only the beginning.

Agatha hovered above you, her eyes dark with desire as she gazed down at your naked form. She took a moment to drink in the sight of you, laid out before her like a feast. Her hands trailed over your skin, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under her touch. You gasped at the sensation, arching into her hands, craving more.

With a wicked smile, Agatha leaned down, her tongue swirling around one hardened peak. Electricity shot through you at the contact, your back arching off the bed as you cried out in pleasure. Agatha chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of sensation through you.

"Your body is so responsive," she purred, her fingers continuing their exploration of your curves. "I can't wait to feel it spasming around my knot as I fill you with my seed."

The dirty words made your core clench, your arousal growing with each passing second. You could feel your omega nature taking over, your instincts screaming at you to submit, to let the alpha claim you completely.

Agatha seemed to sense your desperation, and she moved down your body with purpose, her hands and mouth leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she reached the apex of your thighs, she paused, her breath hot against your slick folds.

"Look at you," she murmured, her fingers brushing against your entrance. "So wet and ready for me already. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be an alpha's mate."

She didn't give you a chance to respond, her mouth latching onto your clit instead. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Agatha's tongue worked magic on you, flicking and circling and sucking until you were writhing against her face, your hips bucking shamelessly as you sought more of that exquisite pleasure.

But Agatha controlled the pace, her hands holding your hips down as she lapped at your essence, savoring every drop of your arousal. She brought you to the edge again and again, only to pull back at the last second, leaving you gasping and aching for release.

"Please," you whimpered, desperation clawing at your throat. "Please, Agatha, I need—"

She cut off your plea with another swipe of her tongue, her fingers dipping inside you as she finally allowed you to find your climax. You shattered with a scream of her name, your body convulsing as ecstasy tore through you.

But even as the waves of pleasure crested and began to ebb, you could feel the need building again, stronger than before. Your omega instincts demanded satisfaction, demanded an alpha's knot stretching you open and filling you up.

As if reading your thoughts, Agatha moved up your body, her clothed form pressing against your naked skin. You could feel the hard ridge of her arousal through her pants, and it made your mouth water with desire.

"Can you feel what you do to me?" Agatha murmured, her hips grinding against yours in a slow, sensual motion. "Can you feel how hard I am for you? How much I need to be inside you?"

You nodded frantically, your hands reaching for the buttons of her shirt. You needed to feel her skin against yours, needed to explore the curves of her body just as she had explored yours.

Agatha allowed you to undress her, watching with a satisfied smirk as you marveled at the sight of her. She was lean and toned, her breasts full and her abs defined. And between her legs, her cock stood at attention, thick and heavy and glistening at the tip.

"Such a beautiful sight," Agatha purred, her eyes devouring you as you gazed at her in awe. "I'm going to enjoy wrecking this pretty little body of yours."

She didn't give you a chance to respond, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as she settled between your thighs. You could feel the heat of her cock pressing against your slick folds, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

"Tell me you want this," Agatha demanded, her voice low and commanding against your lips. "Tell me you want me to claim you, to make you mine."

"I want it," you gasped out, unable to deny the need coursing through your veins. "Please, Agatha. I need you to fill me up. I need your knot."

Her eyes flashed with primal hunger at your words, and with a growl of satisfaction, she thrust into you in one smooth motion. The sensation of being stretched and filled was overwhelming, your inner walls clenching around her thick length as she bottomed out inside you.

"Fuck," Agatha hissed, her hips stilling for a moment as she savored the feeling of being inside you. "You're so tight. So perfect."

She didn't give you time to adjust, pulling out slowly before slamming back into you, setting a hard and fast pace that had you crying out in ecstasy. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through you, the head of her cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

You clung to Agatha's shoulders, your nails digging into her skin as she pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and Agatha's grunts of exertion.

"Mine," she growled, one hand fisting in your hair as she angled your head back, exposing your neck to her teeth. "You're mine now, little omega. I'm going to mark you, claim you, fill you with my seed until everyone knows you belong to me."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your omega nature rejoicing at the thought of being claimed so thoroughly by an alpha. You felt wild, free, as if all the constraints of your old life had fallen away and all that mattered was this moment, this primal act of mating.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips meeting Agatha's thrusts eagerly. "Please, mark me. Claim me. I'm yours."

Your words seemed to spur Agatha on, and she picked up the pace, fucking into you with a ferocity that bordered on violence. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as she took you harder and faster than you ever thought possible.

And then, without warning, she was there, her knot swelling inside you, locking her in place as she finally found his release. You felt her cock pulsing inside you, felt the warm rush of her seed filling you up as she came with a roar of triumph.

The sensation of being claimed so completely sent you over the edge, and you came with a scream of ecstasy, your body milking Agatha's cock for every last drop of her essence.

You collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, both of you panting and sated as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded. Agatha stayed buried inside you, her knot keeping her in place as she nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent with a contented sigh.

"That was incredible," she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. "But don't think we're done yet, my little omega. I've got a lot more to show you."

A thrill of anticipation shot through you at her words, even as exhaustion tugged at your limbs. You knew this was just the beginning, knew that Agatha would demand your submission over and over again until you were thoroughly claimed and mated.

But for now, all you could do was bask in the afterglow of your first true mating, knowing that your life would never be the same again.

From that night, your transformation was complete, irreversible. You woke in Agatha's arms, marked in ways you couldn't yet understand. The ache that had consumed you was gone, replaced by something deeper—a connection that bound you to her. You were hers, every part of you attuned to the alpha who had made you this way.

Your husband came looking for you days later, frantic and confused. Agatha welcomed him with a cool smile, standing tall and unyielding at her doorway as she blocked his frantic attempts to push past her.

“She doesn’t belong to you anymore,” she said, her voice smooth, her words cutting like a blade. “You couldn’t handle what she’s become. Let her go.”

The scent of your omega status wafted through the air, reaching him like a slap to the face. His eyes filled with despair as realization struck. He couldn’t argue. There was no fighting the primal laws of biology.

From the shadows, you watched, torn between guilt and the overwhelming relief of having Agatha’s arms around you. She caught your gaze over her shoulder, her smirk cold, victorious.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she murmured, shutting the door in your husband’s face with a finality that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll take care of you now. No one else ever could.”

Agatha didn’t just claim you; she consumed you. Every part of your life, every piece of who you had been, was now wrapped around her. And as much as a part of you still resisted, another part—darker, hungrier—craved her attention, her dominance, her endless power.

She molded you into her perfect vision of an omega, lavishing you with touches and whispers that lingered long after they ended. Your world shrank to her presence, her approval, her praise. Each moment of submission felt intoxicating, as though her dominance filled an empty space you’d never known existed.

And though her methods were dark, her spell forbidden, Agatha would argue it was a fair exchange.

After all, wasn’t it her right, as an Alpha, to finally have what she deserved?

_-_-_

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[swappermanent]

Sugar Baby

When I started going out with Paul, it felt like everything had finally settled into place. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was in a relationship that made me feel alive. We were super attracted to each other—magnetically, almost—which, after years of boyfriends who left me feeling unsure and self-conscious, was a relief. I knew I was attractive, sure, but there’s a difference between knowing it and feeling it. With Paul, I felt it.

The chemistry was undeniable. We were having sex all the time, barely able to keep our hands off each other. It had been seven months, and honestly, I thought the honeymoon phase might never end. We’d built this bubble around us, this glowing little world where nothing else mattered… until that night.

We’d just come back from dinner at a trendy little spot downtown. I thought the evening had been perfect. The food was great, the wine was flowing, and Paul had looked incredible in his tailored blazer and skinny jeans. But as soon as we got back to my apartment, I could tell something was wrong.

Paul dropped his wallet on the counter with more force than necessary and crossed his arms. “Did you hear what that server said tonight?” he asked, his voice sharp.

I blinked, trying to think back. “What are you talking about?”

“He called me a sugar baby, Oliver,” Paul snapped, his eyes flashing. “Or at least he implied it. Don’t tell me you didn’t catch that.”

I frowned, replaying the night in my head. “I think he said something about us being a…‘cute couple,’ maybe? I don’t remember anything like that.”

Paul threw his hands up. “Of course you didn’t notice. Why would you? You’re not the one who gets judged every time we walk into a room together.”

“Paul, what are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely confused. “What do you care what some random waiter thinks? He’s nobody.”

“It’s not just him,” Paul said, his voice rising. “It’s everyone. Every time we’re out, people look at us and assume I’m with you for your money or because you’re older and can…‘take care’ of me or whatever.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “No one’s judging you. Why would they?”

Paul’s laugh was bitter. “You really don’t get it, do you? Even though you’re super, super hot, you’re still older, Oliver. People notice. They talk. And I’m tired of it.”

I opened my mouth to respond but realized I didn’t know what to say. I’d always thought of us as equals, partners in every sense. But now Paul was voicing something I hadn’t even considered. I didn’t care what anyone thought of us, but clearly, he did.

The argument spiraled from there, each of us throwing words we didn’t mean into the space between us. By the time we finally fell silent, the tension was suffocating. I hated it. I hated that we were fighting, that I couldn’t make him see how little anyone else’s opinion mattered.

That was when Paul said something I never expected. “I wish you could understand what it’s like to be me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, folding my arms.

“It means you have no idea what it’s like to be young and judged for being with someone older,” he said. “You’ve never had to deal with that.”

I wanted to argue, but something in his tone stopped me. He was hurt, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Instead, I sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Paul. I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his coat and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

---

The argument with Paul left me feeling helpless. For days, his words echoed in my mind: “I wish you could understand what it’s like to be me.” I hated the wedge it had driven between us, and I wanted to show him—prove to him—how much I cared.

That’s how I ended up in a small, dimly lit shop tucked into a back alley downtown. A witch, of all things, had been recommended by a friend who swore she could “fix anything.” At first, I thought it was ridiculous, but desperation does strange things to a person.

The witch, a woman with piercing green eyes and a voice that felt like velvet and steel all at once, listened to my story. When I told her I wanted to switch bodies with Paul, she raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. “It’s a bold move,” she said, studying me. “Are you sure you want this? The spell isn’t permanent, but it’ll be… revealing.”

I nodded. “I need him to see how much I care. I need to understand.”

That night, I surprised Paul with dinner at home—his favorite meal, candles, wine. He was suspicious at first, probably expecting another long conversation about our fight, but eventually, he relaxed.

After we ate, I told him. “I did something for us,” I said, my hands trembling slightly as I held his. “It’s… different, but I think it’ll help.”

Paul looked at me warily. “What did you do, Oliver?”

“Just trust me,” I said, pulling the small vial of shimmering liquid from my pocket. “Drink this with me.”

“What the hell is that?” he asked, leaning back.

“It’s magic. Literally,” I said, smiling nervously. “It’s going to switch our bodies—for a little while. So I can understand what it’s like to be you. So we can understand each other better.”

Paul stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” I said firmly. “I know it’s crazy, but… I love you, Paul. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. Please.”

He hesitated, but eventually, he sighed and reached for the vial. “This is insane,” he muttered. “But fine. Let’s do it.”

The sensation was indescribable. A rush of heat, a pull deep in my chest, and then—suddenly—I was staring at myself. At Oliver. My body. Paul’s jaw dropped, and I realized my mouth—his mouth—was hanging open too.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, my voice high and light. Paul’s voice.

“Holy shit,” Paul said, his tone low and steady—my tone. He looked down at his hands, flexing them. “This is… weird.”

We stood there for a moment, just staring at each other, until a grin spread across my—Paul’s—face. “I’m… cute,” I said, looking in the mirror to admire my new body. “You’re adorable, Paul. I mean, I knew that, but… wow.”

Paul rolled his—my—eyes. “Great. Glad you’re having fun already.”

But I could see the curiosity in his expression as he studied his new reflection in the window. “This is so strange,” he muttered, running his—my—hands through his hair.

---

The first few days were exhilarating. I had always thought Paul’s body was beautiful, but living in it was something else entirely. I felt light and full of energy. I was used to being strong, but in Paul’s body, I felt… different. More vulnerable, maybe, but in a way that made me more aware of the world around me.

And then there was the bedroom. That was… an experience. For the first time, I got to see myself—my body—through Paul’s eyes, and it was hotter than I ever could have imagined. I couldn’t stop staring at him. At me. At the way my body moved and how it felt under Paul’s touch.

“Wow,” I whispered one night, lying on my back and looking up at him—at me. “I didn’t realize how hot I am.”

Paul smirked, his—my—hands running over my chest. “Told you.”

The roles had reversed completely. He was stronger now, more dominant, and I was smaller, lighter. It felt amazing to let go and be tossed around a little, to feel his strength in a way I’d never experienced before. And the way he looked at me—his eyes hungry and full of admiration—it turned me on even more.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I teased one night, watching him as he explored his new body.

Paul grinned, his face lighting up. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, his tone playful. “You’re… pretty great, you know.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

---

At first, being Paul felt liberating. I loved the way people looked at me—at him—with a mix of admiration and envy. I enjoyed the carefree lightness of being in his body, his energy, his youth. But the novelty wore off faster than I expected. The longer I spent as Paul, the more I realized his life wasn’t as effortless as I’d thought.

The first real cracks appeared with his friends.

I’d always thought they liked me. They were always so warm when I was me—when I was Oliver. But as Paul, I got to see the unfiltered version of how they really felt about our relationship. The jokes started small.

“You’re still with Oliver?” one of them asked over beers. “Man, the dude’s practically a fossil.”

The group laughed, and I forced a grin. “He’s not that old,” I said, trying to brush it off.

Another friend, Darren, smirked. “I don’t know, Paul. Next thing you know, you’ll be helping him pick out retirement homes.”

More laughter. I clenched my teeth, trying to laugh along, but it stung. The digs didn’t stop there. Every hangout seemed to come with new jabs. “How’s the old man holding up?” “Bet he falls asleep before you even make it to the bedroom.” “Does he have to stretch before you guys have sex?”

I tried to defend myself—Oliver—but it only made things worse. “He’s incredible,” I snapped once, tired of the ridicule. “He’s smart and successful and—”

“And old,” Darren interrupted, grinning. “C’mon, Paul, we’re just messing with you. Don’t be so sensitive.”

It was grating. Even though they claimed to be joking, the constant comments wore me down. I started to see how much pressure Paul must have felt every time we were out together. I understood now why he’d been so sensitive about the waiter’s comment. This wasn’t just an isolated thing; it was everywhere.

Things came to a head on the beach trip.

Paul’s friends had organized a day at the beach, and I’d been excited. The sun, the waves, the chance to relax—it sounded perfect. But I realized they had ulterior motives.

“Hey, Paul,” one of them said with a sly grin as we set up on the sand. “We invited someone new to join us today. You’ll love him.”

That “someone” turned out to be Vince. Tall, tan, and absolutely ripped, Vince looked like he’d walked straight off the cover of a fitness magazine. His laugh was deep and easy, his smile dazzling. I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his swim trunks, his abs catching the sunlight. He was polite, charming, and… clearly interested in me.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. But as the day went on, it became obvious this wasn’t a coincidence. Paul’s friends had brought Vince along to tempt me—Paul. It was a cruel test, one I hadn’t been prepared for.

The group seemed to push us together all day. “Vince, why don’t you help Paul with the cooler?” “Hey, Paul, Vince is really into hiking. You should talk to him about that trail you like.” “You two should totally go for a swim together.”

And Vince played along. He was magnetic, and it was hard not to be drawn to him. His confidence was intoxicating, and the way he looked at me—as if I were the only person on the beach—made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.

By the end of the day, we found ourselves at a seaside bar. The group was dancing, drinks in hand, the setting sun casting a golden glow over everything. Vince and I ended up on the dance floor together, and he moved closer, his hand brushing against mine.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice low. His eyes locked on mine, and I felt a rush of heat.

“I’m not—” I started, but he interrupted me.

“Yes, you are,” he said, stepping closer. His hands rested lightly on my hips, and I didn’t pull away. “You’re gorgeous, Paul. You deserve to be adored.”

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine. I froze, torn between the pull of his touch and the voice in my head screaming that this was wrong.

I hesitated, and in that moment, his hand slid lower. He gently cupped my bulge, his fingers pressing just enough to send a shiver through me. My breath caught, and before I could stop myself, I kissed him back. It was slow at first, tentative, but then his other hand slid up my back, pulling me closer, and I melted into him.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the group, not Oliver, not the consequences. Just Vince and the way he made me feel—desired, wanted, free.

It started as a moment of weakness. The kiss with Vince was supposed to be just that—a fleeting mistake, something I could forget. But I didn’t forget. I couldn’t.

The first time we slept together, it was like an explosion. Vince was passionate, attentive, and completely unlike anything I’d experienced before. He made me feel alive in a way that both thrilled and terrified me. I told myself it would just be a one-time thing, but one night turned into two, and then three, and soon I was finding excuses to see him.

It wasn’t just about the physical connection—although that was incredible. With Vince, I felt like I could shed all the insecurities I’d been carrying as Paul. He didn’t see me as someone trying to live up to anyone else’s standards. He just saw me.

But every time I was with Vince, the guilt weighed heavier. I was lying to Paul—not just about Vince, but about everything. The whole reason I’d switched bodies was to understand him, to bridge the gap between us. Instead, I’d let the gap widen, filling it with secrets and betrayal.

After weeks of this, I couldn’t keep it up anymore. I knew I had to end things with Paul.

We sat across from each other in his apartment—my apartment, technically—and I struggled to find the words. Paul looked so hopeful, his expression soft despite the tension that had grown between us since the switch.

“I’ve been thinking,” I started, my voice trembling slightly. “About us.”

Paul frowned, leaning forward. “What about us?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “You were right,” I said quietly. “The age gap… it’s too much. I thought it didn’t matter, but I see it now. You deserve someone who’s in the same place as you. Someone your own age.”

Paul’s face fell, and my chest tightened. I could see the hurt in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a tight smile. “So, you’ve come around, huh?” he said, his voice heavy. “I guess I should’ve seen this coming.”

“I just want what’s best for you,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You should be with someone who gets you. Someone who can make you happy in ways I can’t.”

He nodded slowly, biting his lip. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” His voice wavered, and I could tell he was holding back tears. “I guess I’ve been thinking the same thing… but I didn’t want to admit it.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, guilt gnawing at me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Paul took a shaky breath, brushing his hands over his thighs. “Well, I guess this means we need to swap back, huh?”

The words hung in the air between us. I could feel the weight of them, the finality. But instead of agreeing, I hesitated. My heart pounded as I looked at him—at me.

“Actually…” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “I’m afraid we’re not going to be doing that.”

Paul blinked, confusion washing over his face. “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean… I think it’s better this way,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady. “You can start fresh. Be with someone who fits into your life. And I can… I can do the same.”

Realization dawned on him, his eyes widening. “You’re serious,” he said, his voice rising. “You’re not giving my body back?”

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Paul. I think this is for the best.”

[jenoslutie]

SK8R BOY (TEASER)

Summary: "You're corrupting me, Jeno" You smiled down at him. "Corrupting you?" He laughs, "Baby, you wont be able to handle me corrupting you."

Pairing: Step brother!Jeno x Step sister!reader

Genre: stepcest, fluff, smut, mean!jeno, simp!jeno of a sort, innocent!reader, skater boy!jeno, hes also freaky but she also gets freaky soon later.

A/N: hi um!!! im supposed to be on hiatus but i was seeing visions and hallucinations about bouncing and moaning on stepbro jeno and then came this. also, thank you to the lovely @hobeemin for the banner + divider hehe. Taglist is open!!

Your head shot up in panic only to see the boys gathered on the couch, sharing what you could only think is a blunt. The smoke escaping all of their mouths making pretty clouds in the air, it fascinated you honestly. What didn't fascinate you however was the smell of it and the fact it was becoming far too unbearable with all the windows closed.

Furious, you got up, walking to the window in the living room and pulling it open, allowing some fresh air to penetrate through the house. “Aww, is princess Y/N getting annoyed?” Jeno cooed, pouting at you mockingly. The way your tits bounced with every step you took was too distracting for him not to take a peek and the weed in his system was making him none the wiser, he was ogling your chest like you werent literally his stepsister and it wasnt so fucking wrong for him to be staring. You didnt even seem to notice though, ignoring his comment and opening the next window with a huff, eager to just take your stuff to your room to study after this.

As you walked by, Jeno blew a cloud of smoke in your face, making you flinch. “Does the pretty girl want to take a hit?” Jaemin’s soft voice spoke from next to you and you immediately shook your head no. “Y/N’s such a good girl. She wouldn’t touch this shit in her life.”

An annoyed look framed your face “What?” Why was he spilling your business to your friends? They don’t need to know what you do and what you don't.

“Isn’t that right, princess? You’re such a good girl. So pure…and innocent…you hate all this bullshit, don't you?” You hated that he was right and you hated how he knew you were getting affected by his words too. You nodded your head a little, hoping that he’d let you go finally and save you the humiliation but this was Jeno we were talking about, he wasn't letting anything go without getting what he wanted. He tsked, pulling you closer so you were facing the whole group, “Go on, tell them. Why won’t you take a hit? There's nothing wrong with it and it feels so good, don’t you want to feel good?” A small whimper escaped you, face burning up at the embarrassment you were feeling but you did what he said anyway, “I-I’m a good girl…” Your voice was shaky and low, gaze anywhere but the six men before you. They all let out all sorts of reactions to this, some amused, some weirded out and some a third something you couldn't quite decipher.

“Good girl,” Jeno cooed one again, taking a long hit of the blunt that was passed to him by Mark. “Why don’t you go back to playing good student over there? The boys could use some eye candy.”

[thementalshawty]

PAC What’s Bloccin’ You From ROMANTIC Love.

Hey babies, I’m bacc with another pac I’m always hearing and getting the questions on when is love coming and I’m like aye same but there’s some things that we’re doing that’s kind of shoving love away and we don’t know what it is or we don’t wanna be real about it, well I’m here to be real some of us are purposefully pushing away love or bloccin it and we’re gonna find out why, choose between the 3 Gifs and find out what’s been bloccin you from love!!! so I won’t see your cards til I write up the reading for you guys cos I’m doing a blind reveal so I can give you very live on the spot intuition and feedbac, sometimes I like to see the cards to get an overall energy before starting the piles but something is telling me to just allow myself to experience this reading with you, hmmm maybe something in there about me we gon see.

Also I’ll be pulling one card for myself at the end to give myself a reading as well on this and I’ll love for your comments and thoughts about it, (Sumn new I wanna try)

P1

P2

P3

Let’s get started shall we 😏

Pile 1

At the bottom of the Decc for you guys you have Losing Yourself. I’m seeing that you guys easily lose yourselves in the ones that you’re involved with I’m thinking maybe even talking stages too and it’s okay to be obsessed with them I heard never stop showing affection or that you care but don’t make them your ENTIRE LIFE & EXISTENCE! You have a life too, so don’t forget to live it! This makes me feel like most of you will find love when you’re focused on you or when you’re doing something for you,living your best life you know? I’m getting a message for you saying “Also watch out for that in friendships, all relationships, all kinds.” I’m surprised that the boundaries card didn’t show up, oh well we didn’t even pull your cards yet but don’t be surprised if that’s one of the cards I feel. Yeah the main reason I feel like love is blocced for you guys is that you lose yourself completely in others which is in MY OPINION just because you don’t really know yourself that well or that confident in who you are, which is very normal so feel not type of way about it. Your first card is NOT MY TYPE. I probably have this pile cos I actually don’t know how this is a blocc but okay 🤷🏾‍♀️ you’re too picky, I think most of these people picking this pile got some kind of earth mainly Virgo placement, or you get the ICK real quicc. I am seeing that you may think only “ugly, or bleh people” hit you up or approach you but your missing out on good romantic opportunities and moments because you reject people to quicc or don’t give them chances in beating high standards which I adore! never settle Frfr, your guides are saying the same shit but they want you to be more open so maybe the person don’t have to checc off all the boxes on your list to get a chance with you, be more OPEN to different types of people, your romantic interest maybe someone you consider “NOT YOUR TYPE”. (🙄 I hate that shit to real shit cos if that don’t worc out then you’ll be even more upset cos you don’t even usually date mfs like that or whatever the case is you know, but I digress). Your next card is NOT BEING YOU. Your guides feel like you’re not showing the real you. There’s a Chris Rocc joke coming into my head, when he says when you date someone or meet someone you’re not meeting them you’re meeting their representative. This is the vibe. Some of you are shy, I think you hold bacc out of fear of judgement, or again for some of you it’s deadass lack of self and it’s bloccin you from attracting romantic love, honestly you should wanna be with someone you can be your true authentic self with and if you don’t know who that is yet than the focus shouldn’t be on romantic love it should be on SELF LOVE! You’re trying to portray perfection and this is again giving me VIRGO vibes, I’m not seeing this as you fake for some of you it’s lacc of self knowledge, but for the most of you guys it’s fear of judgement in hearing “looking weak???” You don’t like anyone seeing you vulnerable or having low moments you want to always be Beyoncé I woke up like this flawless, but hunny, the flawlessness comes from the flaws, perfection IS imperfection, what’s “wrong” about you, is what makes you right so be you always, regardless of the vibe high or low be you show you, loudly! Take the mask off and I’m hearing porcelain skin?? Don’t trip on appearing perfect, just be yourself or for some of you focus on figuring out who that is! Your last card is NEED RESCUING. This again is giving me the vibe of the previous card of not knowing yourself, or atleast trying to portray perfection. You don’t have to be perfect to find love you don’t need to sit around and pray that it falls into your lap, if you want love GO LOOK FOR IT! If you like someone shoot your shot, make your move, they feel like you’re waiting around for love to save you and they only feel you’re way more powerful than that, you go look for what you want and you don’t have to approach you can just put yourself out there, show the world that you’re ready for love.

Pile II

Aww my overly romantic pile I’m feeling. Your bottom of the Decc card is Love’s The Answer. So for you guys what’s bloccin you guys from romantic love is that you think it’s the answer for everything, I think you feel if you have a partner, Spouse, even a sneaky link you’ll feel complete, there’s only dependence in you at this time and you need to focus and work on being independent and self reliant cos SELF LOVE is the answer and the Only Answer at this time!! Your guides are reminding you that love won’t solve ALL your problems, I feel you’ll meet someone when you’re not looking for it, when YOU ARE IN YOUR ELEMENT! You honestly don’t need anyone but yourself to feel whole and complete, love isn’t the answer to the problems right now you want romantic love first then love yourself with all you got, you deserve too! show the world how to treat you by treating yourself that way! I also think right now ROMANCE isn’t in the cards for you, I think you need to be working on your independence right now, a glow up is in the cards for you and that’s sort of bloccin you from love overall I think. Your first card is Unavailable. Are you only interested in people who seem to not want a relationship right now, or that is taken themselves? I’m seeing one of the things bloccin you from romantic love is that you re only chasing people that are unavailable in some way shape or form. The funny thing is SOME OF YOU ARE THE UNAVAILABLE ONES! Some of you run away from romantic opportunities that come your way, someone can be flirting with you and you’ll find some way to push them away or run away, do you ghost people? I feel like you chase unavailable because you lowkey want it to fail, I just feel like you self sabotage yourself, you’re bloccin your own way to romance. Your next card is Too Hard. Your mind is your biggest enemy when it comes to love, I feel like you have a lot of fear when it comes to love and I’m hearing that’s it’s something about your childhood, love was hard or you seeen that those around you made it hella hard so you maybe have a mindset that love is hard or has to be to work & nah!!! Your guides want you to know that love doesn’t have to be hard to have or to find, you just have to truly allow it to flow into your life and allow the vibe to be! Just flow and glow that’s what I’m hearing, just keep swimming, just keep swimming! I’m hearing dory! Your guides don’t want you to give up but they do want you to focus on your independence cos I’m seeing that your mentality about romance needs to be unlearned and that’s where you need to work on your independence because I feel that’s going to ease your mind & heart, it’ll help love flow into your life naturally and easily I think you’re overthinking and overwhelmed about love but I honestly don’t think you know what you want in a relationship. Your guides say you just do you and the rest will follow. Your last card is, Being Needy. You have the mentality of I need it I need it I need it this to me is an iteration of the bottom card, you don’t need love to feel whole! also I feel like you may also be super needy in a relationship, hence why working on your independence is key for you to find love! It’s hella fuccin KEY 🔑! Don’t worry about finding it you’ve got some success made just for you! It’s time for you to have your spotlight, figure out what you need for you and I feel like they said (Your guides) the rest will follow! Hang out with friends and appreciate the NON romantic relationships that you have, take some pressure off your own mind and the thoughts of romance. 💘 you need a break I’m seeing, you blocc yourself from romance because your mind doesn’t recognize it so you run away, focus on you, love will knocc you off your feet literally I’m seeing that!

Pile III

This is my shy pile, nonchalant, detached emotional babies. Your bottom of the Decc card is Hiding Feelings. Ok my babies you blocc romance by not being upfront and open about your feelings, you may lead the ones you like or that like you to feel you don’t like them bacc. You may also be scared of rejection so you hide your emotions from the ones you’re interested in, but your guides are pushing you to open up about how you feel and deal with the feelings of them regardless if they like you bacc or not, I feel like hiding in the shadows won’t bring you love and it won’t make the ones you want want you, I’m hearing you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, so I’m feeling like you need to be brave. Your first card is Fear Of Loss. Again p3 you’re afraid of getting hurt so it’s like you’d rather not even waste your time even attempting to try, I feel the same way about this but you have got to understand that you’re gonna get hurt and not every swing is gonna be a hit you know. You are being urged to take a chance to take that risk, you are ready, you maybe talking to someone or there’s someone in your life you may like, you’re afraid of being abandoned which I get but that’s bloccin you from finding romantic love. Abandonment issues are huge in this pile. This gives me 8oC energy for some reason. Your Next Card is Insecurities. This shit is all put together and in your face this reading may be the shortest, I feel your insecurities and how you see yourself is bloccin you from love, there’s a lot of fear surrounding love this makes me feel like a lot of you been alone for a while or have never been in a relationship before (me either) hmm this may be my pile. I feel like again you may feel like someone may leave you or deny you if they see you so you’d rather be alone or just hide your emotions but I feel you’re so loveable and anyone who is for you will love ALL OF YOU! you need to work on building your confidence up, so that you can feel safe and secure in your relationship because I feel you’ll end it or push them away because of this you shouldn’t deny the other person a gem like you because of the chance that it MAY NOT WORK, even if it doesn’t that one relationship isn’t the end, you don’t ever have to hide your heart and soul cos that’s your compass to romantic love as well, work on your confidence and your shine will be a beacon for romantic love. You’re a runner for sure, that makes you feel uneasy, settling down or staying grounded and it can be because you’re not used to it or it never lasts but you’ll find some permanent ground with another cos I feel this is one of the only piles that has mastered INDEPENDENCE! You can be alone! Now we have to get you to be interdependent leaning on others as well as relying on yourself. We get it, you got you! I feel like you’re the type to be like nobody got me like I got me, I’ll never betray me or leave me, I feel you’ve had mo choice but to depend on you so you’re kind of stucc in your ways. Your last card is Body Shame. Again!!! Insecurities coming out, I feel like it’s both sides whether you feel you’re too big, too small, too fit, not fit enough, you don’t see yourself as beautiful or as handsome as you are and maybe you were bullied this is why I feel like this is my shy reserved babies you’ve been in the shadows you’re the baddies that work in the library nobody notices cos you got glasses on. You need to embrace who you are and be more confident in you, if they like you bacc lucky them they won, if they don’t fucc em they lost and you need to gain that mentality cos I know we all know you gon be alright on your own hunny don’t nobody got to even worry about that but that’s lowkey bloccin you from love. You feel unattractive atleast to the ones you want you need to accept yourself, ALL OF YOU! You’re perfection don’t forget that p3 don’t mf forget that!

ALRIGHTY TIGHTY BABIES IMMA NEED YOU GUYS TO GET YOUR INTUITION UP AND RUNNING FOR ME, imma pull a card for myself and give myself a reading on the same topic since im single too!!!

2 cards came out bacc to bacc so imma just flow with it, the bottom of the decc for me is Past Trauma. There’s some hurt from my past that I feel is bloccin me from romantic love cos there’s a part of me that can’t see past it, regardless if it’s a relationship trauma or something else there’s some pain there that’s keeping my heart closed from romantic love and I just may feel like it’s not worth it, or attempting to try. I need to definitely take time for me and heal my trauma before moving forward and thinking about romantic love. My first card is TOO MUCH. I feel like I’m too open, and in that sense maybe too allowing of my energy and that can invite some negative energies in, now I’m not gonna say being too honest is a problem but there’s some things I need to hold bacc and keep to myself, I tell others too much about me, all at once, it’s like this is who I am take it or leave it and my guides are like before I give my all makes sure they are worth it kicc bacc and allow them to show who they are before giving them all of me. The final card is Holding On. Again this is a reiteration of the BOD card, there’s some shit that I’m holding on too and I’m hearing it’s out of paranoia, you got me once you’ll never get me again mentality and it’s like not everyone is out to get me or hurt me or something negative and I need to allow myself to let go. Also I can be holding onto someone that need to go in my life cos this card is about starting over with someone new after cutting old ties, which is making me feel like I need to cut my old patterns and ways of thinking but again due to past trauma I need to take some time out to heal and focus on releasing things, people, and feelings that serve no more purpose.

Let me know what you think in the comments.

I hope you guys enjoyed the reading and that it resonated for you guys, 😘😘😘😘😘

[asgardiansofthegalaxyvol3]

Logan moving in with Wade and gaining weight because not only is he eating three square meals a day, but he also picked up baking because both Al and Wade have a sweet tooth, and of course the sweets are there, he’s going to eat them too. But now he’s getting kind of chubby. Which isn’t a problem really. He looks healthier than he has in decades. Except…

Wade stopped flirting with him. Straight up just stopped. And yeah Logan’s been ignoring it right along because he knows Wade isn’t actually serious about it, but it was still kind of nice to be wanted. Especially since he came from a reality where he was literally the most hated man alive. And of course now he has actual feelings for Wade, he wants the option to be there.

So he decides to not only start going to the gym but also to stop eating. And of course Wade notices and has to sit him down and ask what’s up, he’s been super healthy lately why is he changing that

And Logan can’t admit why he’s doing it so he deflects. “So going to the gym isn’t healthy?”

“You practically live there now. You’re a certified gym rat. You’re overworked and underfed. THAT isn’t healthy.”

And they go back and forth until Logan finally admits it’s because he gained weight and doesn’t feel attractive anymore. “Hell, you don’t even flirt with me anymore and I’ve seen you hit on inanimate objects before.”

And Wade stares at him for like 10 full seconds before he busts out laughing, like genuinely knee slapping chuckle fest because, “You think I stopped flirting with you because I’m shallow??? You honestly think I look like a burn victims even uglier ball sack and I’m being picky with how someone else looks?”

Logan tries to shrug it off with a “Everyone has preferences.”

“Trust me, Peanut, it isn’t that.”

“So then what is it?”

And now it’s Wade’s turn to be defensive until he realizes their conversation is just going in circles and Logan won’t stop destroying his body until he comes clean. So he has to stare at the wall as he tells Logan that it isn’t that he’s not attracted to Logan’s body anymore, it’s that he’s hyper attracted to it now, that he looks so healthy, so well fed, so inadvertently loved, and that it’s a reminder of all the domesticity of their situation that he’s actually fallen in love and can’t trust himself to casually flirt with Logan anymore because he’s genuinely afraid he’s going to do something and ruin their friendship now.

And they make out sloppy style and confess their love to each other of course

[undercvrfan444]

“Yeah he loves me but he fucks me like he hates me guts!”

Based off of this! https://x.com/entirepornvids/status/1877827274822525189?s=46

Description! - Gojo can’t stand you! He’s always found you annoyingly attractive and can’t stand to see you prance around Jiujitsu High’s halls in your skimpy teaching outfit!

Satoru Gojo was never one to be quiet. He was unapologetically loud and arrogant no matter who he was around.

So the day you met him it baffled you when he refused to speak more than a few words to you. Even then when he spoke the words were so hateful it had your head spinning.

Throughout your entire time at Jiujitsu High you had heard of the strongest, so now that you returned to work there after attending school it was just expected you’d meet Gojo. Afterall, you had to work with him. When you’d been assigned a few kids to teach you were ecstatic! Finally you’d be able to get hands on with the future of the jiujitsu world and unfortunately you had to share it was some hard ass.

Your three students, Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, and Megumi Fushigoro were definitely polar opposites that just happened to meld well together. A discombobulation of personalities in which a family was formed, however Gojo always seemed to leave you out of that so called family dynamic.

“I don’t understand what his problem is with you teach, he’s always nice to us.” Itadori sat across from you while the other two students sat on your side eating lunch. A soft sigh made its way through your glossed lip, feeling the smooth sensation always seemed to offer some comfort. “Honestly Yuji…I don’t know either.” Instead of dogging on Gojo though, you change the subject. A sweet smile is all you can offer the 3 signaling you don’t really have the room to reprimand higher authority.

Nobara on the other hand can’t let an old dog sleep. “Anytime I see you and him together you’re always respectful, like more so than I feel you should be. When you leave or go off to do something he’s completely opposite around us!” Her words were entirely meant innocently but they made you feel like shit.

Did you accidentally insult his clan without realizing it? What exactly was so vile about you that the world’s biggest big mouth is tight lipped around you?

“I’m not sure you guys should be talking about Gojo like this, what if he were here?”

The moment the words come out of your mouth it’s as though the air chilled. Three pairs of eyes leave your frame and look up behind you, Nobara smiles wide at you, giggling and wiling her mouth with a napkin. “Speak of the devil…”

You feel your spine go ridged as you ignore the man behind you, refusing to turn around. He slides next to you on the bench with a big smile on his face. “Who are we gossiping about?” The words are silky smooth, an edge to them that anyone could mistake for a hint of jealousy from being left out.

“You!” Yuji pipes up. “We were talking about why you-“

Before any words can vomit their way from Yuji’s mouth, Nobara slaps a firm hand over his lips. Megumi laughs a little as your eyes widen, scolding the pink haired boy for being such a snitch. The scene unfolding before Gojo makes him frown secrets don’t keep friends you know! He leaned over and pried Nobara’s hand off of Yuji’s mouth but it was no use; the stink eye Megumi and Nobara gave Yuji was enough to turn anyone to stone within seconds.

Overhead a bell rang for classes to begin. Lunch was over fortunately for you despite not eating much from talking.

You stood up from the table as everyone excused themselves to their respective classes. Gojo was surely left more confused now than when he’d walked up to the group discussion.

For the rest of the day, time seemed to slow down and drag on. Minutes felt like hours until finally the students had been released to go home. The sun provided golden rays on the empty desks of your class room. Truthfully this was one of your favorite times of the day because you could finally relax and let your mind run wild without worrying about someone else catching you off in space.

That is until a knock on the door frame of your room pulls you away from your thoughts. Strands of white catch your attention from the corner of your eye.

Swiveling around to face a very obviously annoyed Gojo wasn’t easy. A thick lump forms in your throat at the idea of him ripping you a new one for the things you said earlier.

“Gojo? Can I help you?” Simple, sweet.

Brief seconds pass with him staring at you from his position in the door.

“What were you and the kids talking about earlier?”

The question left your heart leaping from your chest. Saliva seemed to run dry in miliseconds making it hard to answer, your mouth slightly agape as you thought on what to say.

“Nothing, we were only chatting.”

“Don’t lie to me. Yuji hasn’t said anything to me all day which is not at all like him. Megumi keeps giving me sly remarks about shit and Nobara. She won’t stop ignoring me.”

Light pink blush settles on your cheeks thinking of the bunch. It was sweet how they took up for you despite not knowing what the outcome would be.

“If I tell you, promise me not to get mad.”

“Just tell me.”

“Not until you promise!”

A low groan emits from the white haired teacher. His eyebrows furrow before relaxing, a hand coming up to run over his face.

“I…Promise.”

gently sighing, you stand up. The feeling of being lower than him made you queasy.

“We..were talking about why you always..”

“Always..?”

“..you always seem to be so quiet when i’m around. Megumi had asked me if I’ve ever mouthed off to you or if we have previous history because you’re just so cold to me.”

Your words sounded like a kindergartner trying to talk about how they felt. It’s how you truly feel. A deafening silence blankets your two bodies as Gojo stares at you blankly, as if you’d just said the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

He steps a little closer to your desk. “What are you talking about?”

Hearing his words make your eyes almost bug out of your head. “Are you kidding me!? Ever since I started working with you i’ve never gotten more than a few words out of your lips. In fact, this conversation we’re having right now is the longest i’ve ever held your attention. You seem to shut down and stop talking the second i’m around, it makes me feel like i’ve done something wrong! I respect you so much Gojo and i’ve never understood why you treat me so terribly. You make me feel like you hate me.”

Small quivers overtake your lower lip, pink soft skin getting trapped between your teeth to stop the movements. It was embarrassing to be infront of Gojo crying like a baby. If he didn’t think of you that way before he certainly would now.

The blindfold covering Gojo’s eyes is slipped off silently. The white fabric falling from his softened features and being forgotten on the hardwood of your table.

Tears streamed out of your thick lashes. The idea of being so close to a man you never thought would breathe the same air as you for longer than he had to was nauseating. In a featherlight touch, thick fingers wrap around your face making you look up at him so he could wipe the crystal tears away.

“Stop that.” As if a ghost were touching you instead of the strongest sorcerer known to the world, two light pink lips kiss your eyelids.

The sudden change in attitude hit like whiplash. Gojo surely wasn’t cruel enough for this to be some big joke so why is he treating you like fine china? Could he be getting a laugh out of this deep down? Are there cameras outside ready to bust you out for being so foolish?

“I don’t hate you Y/n. I could never hate you. Forgive me for not being man enough to tell you how I feel before now but, I guess I didn’t know how upset my actions made you.” A few more soft pecks were laid on your face, inching closer to your wet trembling lips.

“Then why are you so distant? It breaks my heart to see you so close with the kids and then turn around to treat me like the redheaded stepchild.”

A loud laugh echoed in your ears at the last part of your sentence. Beautiful pearly white teeth flashing in your eyes.

“A redheaded stepchild?”

Nodding, you sniffle. “This isn’t funny!-“

“It’s a little funny” he retorts.

Anger replaces the once evident hurt. Were your feelings really so insignificant to him that he could find every loose thread in your resolve just to kick you down?

*Slap!*

A sharp echo rang throughout the room. Satoru’s pale skin now had a blooming red mark in the shape of your beautiful manicured hand. “Are you ready to apologize for being such a dick!?”

Quiet steps were all you could hear. Then your classroom door shutting. A lock turning in place. “Shut up.”

In a flash you were up against your desk, back arched so Satoru’s chest slammed into yours. Teeth clashed with teeth as he kissed you rough, unforgiving. Two large hands groped your ass through the skirt you wore it was something Satoru had hated about you. How beautifully your curves fill out the skirt making him want to rip it off and stuff his cock in you.

Strangled moans are drowned in Satoru’s mouth his tongue fighting against yours. “‘Toru, s-slow down!”

Oh how stupid were you? Your pleas fell silent on his ears. Instead his teeth sunk into yours neck, licking over the red teeth marks he left. One of his hands trailed down to rub a finger over the slick cotton panties you had on, arousal sticking to his fingers. “Mm so fucking filthy. Your pussy is begging for me to stuff her full huh?”

Moans fill your classroom. Porn stars had nothing on the sounds coming out of Satoru and you were the ones pulling them out.

“Y-yes, please. Please ‘toru fuck me!” It was embarrassing at just how easy you were! One feel of the strong presence digging into you and you were ready to give it up on your desk.

Not wasting any more time your panties were torn off, left somewhere behind the man below you. “Get on the desk.”

Satoru pushed your legs apart slowly. Antagonizingly slow. A shudder ripped through you at the mix of cold and hot air meeting your pussy. “God, just fucking look at her.” Heat rises to your cheeks when you feel two thick fingers prod your entrance, slowly spreading your folds deliberately apart. “How long have you been waiting for this, hmm?”

Slick arousal drops down every part of your lower body. Satoru’s slips onto the floor with his head squished nicely between your legs. His tongue licked a languid stripe through your cunt before dipping the tip of his tongue inside.

Your fingers race to find stability in silky white strands. “Waiting for me to devour you whole just to abuse this cunt the second I feel you cum on my tongue?” And fuck if the sound of Satoru talking dirty didn’t turn you on even more.

As if the man knew every inch of your body already, he slid his middle finger inside you. pistoning in and out of your sloppy hole until you’re feeling pressure build in your lower tummy. Thank God no one was in the building after hours or else it wouldn’t take a second thought to come check on you with how loud you were mewling and whining.

“s’ t-too much! M’gonna cum..M’gonna cum!” your words were breathy. Saliva had dried in your mouth the second your lips broke away from Satoru’s. Another finger stretched you open and together they curled, feeling the spongy area. “Aww I barely even started!”

Pretty pink lips suctioned over your clit. His fingers curled harder each time earning a high pitched squeal from you. Ever since Satoru had met you he knew this would be the way you ended up. Squirming on his fingers and begging to be fucked.

It was the way you looked at him.

His dick involuntarily got hard anytime you stared up at him with those big eyes. You always seemed to have something on the end of your tongue that just aggravated Satoru! He saw how your thighs pressed together when he was around, and you better believe he saw the way you snuck glances at his clothes dick anytime you could. So really could he blame you for being such a white over his mouth?

One small filck of his tongue on your swollen clit has you shaking on his mouth, hands pulling at those strands so hard you knew it had to hurt. Oh but he wasn’t finished there.

As soon as he pulled away from your pussy you were being flipped on your stomach. Cold hard wood pressed into your lower abdomen while you listened to the sound of a belt buckle clinking off. “Satoru..”

Lowly he hums in your ear, chills spilling through you. “What is it baby? I know my name sounds good but surely you’ve got something more to say.” The fat tip of Satoru’s cock brushes oh so faintly that it has you pushing your hips back to find any friction you could. You knew Satoru would be big but fuck! There’s no way that thing is gonna fit inside you without tearing you open!

“I..I thought you hated me!” You mumble into your arm as you hold yourself up against the desk. You feel the thick throb of Satoru’s cock against your ass, the hard veiny length just waiting for you to swallow it.

Without warning Satoru pushes the length in. A burning sensation engulfing your body, “Oh baby, I love you! But i’m just gonna fuck you like I hate your guts.”

[gottencents]

CAUSAL - Yu Jimin

pairing. mean girl!karina x star soccer player!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold.

Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

Changryeo University was everything Y/N despised about high school, except on steroids. The social hierarchy was alive and thriving, fueled by wealth, good looks, and the kind of academic and athletic achievements that could only be purchased or inherited. Y/N, on the other hand, had gotten in on her soccer skills alone. And while she was proud of her co-captain status, it came with one massive downside—people were starting to notice her.

One of those people was Karina Yu .

Karina was the embodiment of every “mean rich girl” stereotype that Y/N had tried to avoid. She was the queen of Changryeo’s social pyramid, the head cheerleader, and the reigning queen bee. The worst part? Karina wasn’t just popular. She was strategic. Every move she made was calculated, designed to keep her at the top.

So when Y/N walked into the campus coffee shop one afternoon and saw Karina waiting for her with a smile that could freeze fire, she immediately knew something was up.

“Y/N,” Karina said smoothly, her manicured nails tapping on the table in front of her. “Sit.”

Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Karina? I’m kind of busy.”

Karina tilted her head, giving her an incredulous look. “Busy doing what? Pretending to ignore the fact that you’re the most talked-about soccer player on campus right now?”

Y/N frowned, adjusting the strap of her soccer bag. “I’m just trying to focus on my grades and practice. I don’t really care about all… this.” She gestured vaguely to the bustling café, full of students whispering and staring.

Karina smirked. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You can’t just ‘not care.’ You’re part of this world now, whether you like it or not.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess—you’re here to welcome me to the ‘world’ with some sort of deal?”

Karina’s smile widened. “Exactly. I knew you weren’t as slow as you pretend to be.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Here’s the thing, Y/N. I need someone who can keep my social status intact until graduation. Someone who’s popular enough to keep people talking but also low-maintenance enough that I don’t have to babysit them. You, unfortunately, check both boxes.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait… what?”

Karina sighed, as if she were explaining something painfully obvious. “Fake date me. You get everyone off your back—because trust me, no one messes with what I call dibs on—and I get to ride your… what do they call it? Soccer hype?”

Y/N stared at her, trying to process what she was hearing. “You want me to pretend to date you? For popularity?”

Karina rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get to focus on your precious soccer and grades, and I stay on top where I belong. Everyone wins.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “Except I don’t care about popularity, Karina. And I’m not sure why you’re even interested in me. I’m not exactly your type.”

Karina’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “That’s exactly why you’re perfect. You don’t care about any of this. You’re not going to embarrass me by trying too hard or starting drama. And honestly? People love an underdog. It’s… charming.”

Y/N scoffed. “Charming? You’ve spent the past two years pretending I don’t exist.”

Karina shrugged. “I didn’t need you then. Now I do.” She leaned back, crossing her legs. “Look, you can say no. But I guarantee the attention you’re getting right now? It’s only going to get worse. And when people start digging into your past or spreading rumors about you…” She trailed off, her expression smug. “Well, let’s just say it’s easier to let me handle it.”

Y/N hesitated. She hated everything about this. But she also hated the constant whispers, the stares, and the endless stream of people trying to insert themselves into her life. As much as she wanted to tell Karina to take her offer and shove it, she couldn’t deny that it would be easier to let the queen of the social ladder scare everyone off.

“Fine,” Y/N said finally. “But I have a few conditions.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh? Do tell.”

“One,” Y/N said, holding up a finger, “this ends the second I don’t need it anymore. Two, you don’t get to micromanage my life outside of this… whatever this is. And three, you don’t get to pull any of your mean girl crap on me. Got it?”

Karina’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course. I’m always nice to my significant others.” She extended a hand. “Deal?”

Y/N stared at her for a moment before reluctantly shaking her hand. “Deal.”

As Y/N walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life. Karina, meanwhile, watched her go with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Karina murmured to herself, already planning her next move.

Y/N left the café feeling like she’d just signed a deal with the devil. What had she gotten herself into? Fake dating Karina Yoo? The girl who practically ruled Changryeo University with an iron fist wrapped in designer gloves? It sounded insane.

The next day, Y/N started to see the consequences of her decision almost immediately. She was walking to class when she noticed people whispering and pointing at her. Some of the cheerleaders giggled as she passed, and a group of guys from the basketball team gave her an approving nod.

Y/N sighed, pulling her hoodie up in an attempt to block out the attention. But just as she thought she’d make it to class unnoticed, she heard the sharp click of heels behind her.

“Y/N!” Karina’s voice rang out, cutting through the crowd like a knife.

Y/N froze. Here we go.

Karina strutted toward her like she was walking a runway, her designer bag swinging at her side. She was dressed to perfection, as always, in a tailored outfit that probably cost more than Y/N’s tuition.

Karina stopped right in front of her, giving her a radiant smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You were just going to class without me? What kind of fake girlfriend are you?”

Y/N blinked. “I—what?”

Karina sighed dramatically, looping her arm through Y/N’s before she could protest. “We’re supposed to sell this, remember? People are watching.”

Y/N glanced around and realized Karina was right. Half the students in the courtyard were staring at them, some openly gaping, others whispering behind their hands.

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, awkwardly adjusting to the sudden closeness. “But could you maybe not treat me like a handbag?”

Karina laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’re not a handbag, Y/N. You’re an accessory. There’s a difference.”

Y/N groaned. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Later that day, the two of them walked into the dining hall together, and Y/N instantly regretted agreeing to this arrangement. The room went silent the moment they entered, and all eyes turned to them.

Karina didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, she seemed to thrive under the attention, walking with her head held high and a confident smile on her face. Y/N, on the other hand, wanted to disappear into the floor.

They made their way to a table where Winter and Ningning were already sitting. Winter raised an eyebrow as they approached, her expression somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“Wow,” Winter said as they sat down. “So it’s true. The queen of Changryeo has a new trophy.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Please don’t start.”

Karina, however, looked completely unbothered. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked at Winter. “Jealous?”

Ningning snickered, nudging Winter. “I think she’s just surprised. Everyone is. Y/N doesn’t exactly scream ‘Karina’s type.’”

“Hey,” Y/N protested. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Winter shrugged. “You’re not… polished. No offense.”

“None taken,” Y/N muttered.

Karina leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs. “Y/N is refreshing. She’s not trying too hard to impress me, unlike certain people.” She gave Winter a pointed look, and Winter rolled her eyes.

“This is going to be fun to watch,” Ningning said, her grin widening. “You two are so different it’s almost funny.”

“Almost?” Karina asked, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. It’s hilarious,” Ningning admitted.

Y/N groaned again, slumping in her seat. “This was a mistake.”

Karina reached over and patted her hand in an overly dramatic gesture. “Oh, sweetie. It’s not a mistake. It’s an opportunity. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Winter and Ningning burst into laughter, and Y/N could only sit there, wondering how she was going to survive the rest of the semester with Karina Yoo as her fake girlfriend.

Meanwhile…

Karina was already planning their next big “date.” She knew Y/N wasn’t going to make this easy, but that only made it more interesting. Y/N wasn’t like the others—she didn’t care about status or appearances, which made her unpredictable.

For Karina, it wasn’t just about maintaining her social status anymore. There was something about Y/N’s unwillingness to play by the rules that intrigued her. Maybe this arrangement would end up being more fun than she’d originally thought.

But for Y/N, this was already a nightmare. The attention, the whispers, the constant proximity to Karina—it was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get through college quietly and focus on her future. But now, thanks to Karina’s scheme, she was front and center in the social spotlight.

And whether she liked it or not, there was no turning back now.

Y/N was convinced she was cursed. It was the only explanation for why her life had spiraled into this chaotic mess. Before the fake dating arrangement, she was invisible—just a girl who played soccer and tried to keep her head down. But now, every step she took was met with stares, whispers, and the occasional wide-eyed double-take.

Even her teammates had started treating her differently.

At practice the next day, Y/N barely had time to put her cleats on before her co-captain, Sunghoon, jogged over, smirking.

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “So, you and Karina Yoo, huh?”

Y/N groaned, already dreading the conversation. “Don’t start, Sunghoon.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he teased. “You’re dating the most popular girl on campus. You’re practically royalty now.”

“She’s not really my girlfriend,” Y/N muttered under her breath, lacing up her cleats.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sunghoon said, grinning. “You know she’s sitting in the bleachers right now, right?”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “What?”

He pointed over to the stands, where Karina was lounging in her designer coat, her legs crossed as if she were attending a fashion show instead of a soccer practice. She was scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the curious glances from the rest of the team.

Y/N marched over to the bleachers, her heart pounding. “Karina!” she called, trying to keep her voice low enough so the entire team wouldn’t hear. “What are you doing here?”

Karina looked up, smiling innocently. “Watching my girlfriend practice, of course. Isn’t that what supportive partners do?”

Y/N resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “You didn’t have to come. This is just practice.”

Karina tilted her head, pretending to be hurt. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said immediately. “I mean, no! I mean—ugh.” She ran a hand through her hair, already regretting her decision to agree to this arrangement.

“Relax,” Karina said, waving her off. “I’m just here to make sure the other girls on your team don’t get any ideas. Can’t have them thinking you’re single, now can we?”

Y/N groaned. “Karina, no one on this team thinks that—”

“Y/N! Who’s your friend?” one of her teammates called from the field, cutting her off.

Karina turned and waved, flashing a dazzling smile. “Hi! I’m her girlfriend.”

Y/N could feel her teammates’ collective jaws drop.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Later that day…

After practice, Y/N trudged into the dining hall, fully prepared to eat her dinner in peace. Unfortunately, peace wasn’t on the menu.

Karina was already sitting at their usual table with Winter and Ningning. She waved Y/N over as soon as she walked in, her smile bright and attention-grabbing.

Y/N reluctantly joined them, sliding into the seat next to Karina. She immediately noticed the looks from other students in the dining hall. Some were staring openly, others whispering behind their hands.

“Everyone’s staring,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

“Of course they are,” Karina said, flipping her hair. “We’re Changryeo’s new power couple.”

“We’re not a couple,” Y/N said quietly, picking at her food.

Ningning leaned forward, grinning. “You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N. Karina is selling this so well it’s practically an Oscar-winning performance.”

Winter snorted. “I’ll give it to her—she’s committed. But Y/N? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

Y/N sighed, slumping in her seat. “That’s because I would be.”

Karina reached over and patted her hand, her touch light but deliberate. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re doing great. And for the record, you’re lucky to have me as your fake girlfriend. Most people would kill for this opportunity.”

“Most people don’t have to deal with you,” Y/N shot back, unable to stop herself.

Winter and Ningning burst out laughing, and even Karina cracked a smile.

“You’re lucky I find your sass endearing,” Karina said, leaning back in her seat with a smirk.

A few weeks later…

The fake dating arrangement had started to feel like a full-time job. Karina was everywhere—showing up to Y/N’s practices, dragging her to parties, and insisting on coordinating outfits for their “dates.”

But the weirdest part? Y/N was starting to get used to it.

Karina was still Karina—bossy, overconfident, and annoyingly good at getting her way. But every now and then, Y/N caught glimpses of something deeper. Like the way Karina would soften when talking about her younger sister, or how she’d quietly help out a classmate who was struggling without making a big deal about it.

It didn’t make her any less infuriating, but it did make her… interesting.

One night, after yet another party where Karina had spent most of the time pretending to be the perfect girlfriend, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Why are you doing all this?” Y/N asked as they walked back to their dorms.

Karina glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“This whole fake dating thing,” Y/N said. “You’re already popular. You don’t need me to stay on top.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, which was rare for her. Then she shrugged, her expression unreadable. “Maybe I just like having someone around who doesn’t kiss up to me.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “You… like having me around?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Karina said, smirking. “You’re tolerable. That’s all.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Karina smiled, and for once, it wasn’t calculated or forced. It was just… genuine.

Over the next month, the lines between their fake relationship and reality began to blur in ways Y/N hadn’t anticipated. Karina was still annoyingly bossy and dramatic, but Y/N couldn’t deny that she was also surprisingly attentive. She remembered little things, like Y/N’s coffee order or how she hated when her cleats weren’t broken in yet.

Y/N, for her part, started to see sides of Karina that no one else seemed to notice. Like how she’d subtly steer conversations away from Winter’s nervous stuttering in class presentations or how she always brought snacks for Ningning, claiming it was “just in case” but always ended up handing them over.

And then there were the moments when Karina’s carefully constructed mask slipped entirely. Like the night of the big soccer game against their school’s rival, where everything changed.

Game Night

The stadium was packed, buzzing with energy as Changryeo prepared to face its fiercest rival. Y/N felt the weight of the crowd’s expectations as she warmed up on the field. Being co-captain was no joke, and all eyes were on her to deliver.

Karina was there, of course, perched in the VIP section with Winter and Ningning. She was decked out in Changryeo colors, her designer coat somehow perfectly matching the school’s logo. She looked like she belonged on a billboard, not in the stands of a college soccer game.

But even from the field, Y/N could feel her presence. Karina’s gaze was sharp, focused entirely on her.

As the game began, Y/N threw herself into it, blocking out everything but the ball, her teammates, and the roaring crowd. By halftime, they were tied 1-1, and the pressure was mounting.

In the locker room, Y/N sat on the bench, trying to catch her breath. Sunghoon clapped her on the back. “You’re doing great out there. Just keep your head in the game.”

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, wiping sweat from her face.

But her focus was shaken as soon as she stepped back onto the field. The rival team’s captain, a cocky player named Minjae, smirked as he jogged past her.

“Your girlfriend’s got the whole stadium staring,” Minjae said with a sneer. “Must be nice having the queen of Changryeo cheering you on.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. She knew he was trying to get in her head, but it still worked.

By the time the second half ended, the score was still tied, and they were headed into overtime. The tension was palpable.

As Y/N lined up for a crucial penalty kick, she glanced at the stands and locked eyes with Karina. Karina gave her a small nod, her expression serious for once.

“You’ve got this,” Karina mouthed.

Y/N took a deep breath and focused. The world seemed to slow as she approached the ball, her foot connecting perfectly. The stadium erupted as the ball sailed into the net, securing their victory.

Post-Game

After the game, Y/N was mobbed by her teammates and the crowd. She barely had time to breathe before Karina appeared, pushing through the chaos like it was nothing.

“There’s my star player,” Karina said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Before Y/N could respond, Karina grabbed her face and kissed her.

The crowd went wild.

Y/N froze, her brain short-circuiting. When Karina finally pulled back, she smirked. “You looked like you needed some motivation out there.”

Y/N blinked, still processing. “Motivation? I just won the game.”

“Exactly,” Karina said, flipping her hair. “You’re welcome.”

Winter and Ningning appeared behind her, both grinning like they were enjoying the show way too much.

“Wow, Karina really went all in,” Winter said.

“I’m living for this drama,” Ningning added.

Y/N groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

Karina, however, looked entirely unbothered. She leaned closer, her voice dropping so only Y/N could hear. “Relax. You’re a hero now. Everyone’s going to be talking about this for weeks.”

Y/N glanced at her, a mix of exasperation and something she couldn’t quite name. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you keep agreeing to my plans,” Karina said, smirking.

As the night went on and the celebrations continued, Y/N found herself smiling despite the chaos. Maybe this whole fake dating thing wasn’t as fake as she’d thought.

Later That Night

Back at their dorms, Y/N sat on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Karina was perched on the armrest, scrolling through her phone.

“You didn’t have to kiss me, you know,” Y/N said suddenly.

Karina glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “It worked, didn’t it? The crowd loved it. You’re basically a legend now.”

Y/N shook her head. “That’s not the point. You keep doing all this stuff like it’s some kind of game.”

Karina’s expression softened, just for a moment. “It’s not a game,” she said quietly.

Y/N turned to look at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. “Then what is it?”

Karina hesitated, her walls cracking just enough for Y/N to see something real beneath them. “It’s… complicated.”

Y/N studied her, realizing for the first time that maybe Karina wasn’t as confident and untouchable as she seemed.

“Complicated, huh?” Y/N said, her voice soft.

Karina gave her a small, almost shy smile. “Don’t overthink it. Just… go with it.”

For once, Y/N decided not to argue.

“Alright,” she said. “But if you pull another stunt like that in public, I’m kicking your ass.”

Karina laughed, and the sound was lighter than Y/N had ever heard. “Deal.”

And for the first time since this whole thing started, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, they were onto something real.

The Morning After the Game

Y/N woke up the next morning to chaos. Her phone was blowing up with notifications—texts, Instagram tags, even a few congratulatory emails from professors who were clearly too invested in Changryeo sports. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she scrolled through the messages.

Her teammates had turned the group chat into a full-on meme fest. Screenshots of Karina’s dramatic kiss at the game were plastered everywhere, complete with captions like “Changryeo’s new power couple” and “Karina really said, ‘My girlfriend won the game.’”

Just as Y/N was about to bury her face back into her pillow, there was a knock at her door.

She opened it to find Karina standing there, holding two cups of coffee and a bag of pastries.

“Good morning, star player,” Karina said with a smirk, pushing her way into the room without waiting for an invitation. She set the coffee and bag on Y/N’s desk before sitting on the edge of her bed like she owned the place.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, still half-asleep.

“Damage control,” Karina said, scrolling through her phone. “Your PR image is my responsibility now, remember?”

Y/N blinked. “PR image? What are you talking about?”

Karina rolled her eyes, turning her phone to show Y/N the flood of posts on social media. The school’s official athletics account had reposted a photo of their kiss, and the comments were a mix of admiration, jokes, and speculation.

“Karina Yoo kissing Y/N on the field after the game? Iconic.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Y/N gets swept up by Changryeo’s queen bee.”

“Plot twist: Karina’s actually soft for her.”

“I thought Karina only cared about status. Maybe this is real???”

Y/N groaned, sinking onto her bed. “This is a nightmare.”

“It’s a dream,” Karina corrected, sipping her coffee. “The PR is gold. You’re officially untouchable now.”

“I didn’t ask to be untouchable,” Y/N said, rubbing her temples.

Karina tilted her head, her expression softening slightly. “You didn’t have to ask. That’s what I’m here for.”

Y/N looked at her, trying to figure out if Karina was joking. But her tone was serious, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of her usual sarcasm.

“Thanks… I guess,” Y/N said awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it,” Karina said, waving her off. Then, as if remembering something, she added, “Oh, and don’t forget—we’re going to that party tonight.”

“What party?”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “The victory party, obviously. The soccer team’s throwing it, and as your girlfriend, I have to be there.”

Y/N sighed. “Do I have a choice in this?”

“No,” Karina said with a smug smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Gee, thanks,” Y/N muttered.

The Party

That night, the victory party was in full swing by the time Y/N and Karina arrived. The team had rented out one of the biggest event spaces on campus, and the room was packed with students. Music blasted from the speakers, and the energy was electric.

As soon as they walked in, all eyes turned to them. Y/N felt her shoulders tense under the weight of the stares, but Karina didn’t seem fazed at all. She grabbed Y/N’s hand, lacing their fingers together as she led her through the crowd.

“You’re doing great,” Karina whispered, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t pull away.

They joined Sunghoon and the rest of the soccer team near the bar, where Winter and Ningning were already waiting with drinks in hand.

“Well, well,” Winter said, raising her glass. “If it isn’t the couple of the century.”

Ningning grinned, nudging Y/N. “You look so uncomfortable. It’s adorable.”

“Glad you’re enjoying this,” Y/N muttered.

Karina, however, was in her element. She charmed the team effortlessly, laughing at their jokes and pretending to be genuinely interested in their stories. Y/N couldn’t tell if it was an act or if Karina was just naturally good at winning people over.

At one point, Sunghoon leaned over to Y/N, his voice low. “She’s really something, huh?”

Y/N glanced at Karina, who was animatedly telling a story to the rest of the group. She was gesturing wildly, her face lit up in a way that made it hard to look away.

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly. “She really is.”

Later That Night

As the party wound down, Karina and Y/N found themselves sitting on the steps outside the event space. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the chaos inside.

Karina leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the stars. “You survived your first official event as my girlfriend. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted,” Y/N said honestly.

Karina laughed, her voice soft and melodic. “You’ll get used to it.”

Y/N studied her for a moment, the glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“Being… you,” Y/N said. “Always in the spotlight, always being perfect for everyone.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, her confident facade slipping just enough for Y/N to see the vulnerability underneath.

“Sometimes,” Karina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s the only thing I know how to do.”

Y/N frowned. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time, you know. You’re allowed to just… be yourself.”

Karina turned to look at her, her expression unreadable. “And what if I don’t know who that is?”

Y/N hesitated, then reached over and took her hand. “Then maybe it’s time you figured it out.”

Karina stared at her, and for once, she didn’t have a clever comeback.

The silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable, and for the first time, Y/N felt like she was finally seeing the real Karina—the one who hid behind all the glitz and glamour.

Life didn’t slow down after the victory party. If anything, it picked up speed. The school was abuzz with gossip about Y/N and Karina’s “relationship.” Everywhere Y/N went, people whispered or stared. Some congratulated her on her game-winning goal, but most wanted to talk about Karina.

“So, is it real?”

“How did you even bag Karina ?”

“Are you two, like, for real-for real?”

Y/N tried to dodge the questions, but Karina seemed to thrive on the attention. She’d casually wrap an arm around Y/N’s shoulder in the cafeteria or bring her a coffee in the middle of class, always with a knowing smirk. It was like a game to her—a game Y/N wasn’t entirely sure she was winning.

By the end of the week, Y/N was exhausted. She trudged into her dorm room after soccer practice, still sweaty and aching, only to find Karina lounging on her bed like she owned the place.

“Do you not have your own dorm?” Y/N asked, dropping her bag onto the floor.

Karina looked up from her phone. “Mine’s boring. Yours has personality. And snacks.”

Y/N sighed, pulling off her cleats. “What do you want, Karina?”

Karina sat up, crossing her legs. “We need to strategize. There’s a gala next weekend, and we have to make an appearance.”

“A gala?” Y/N repeated, groaning. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Karina said, standing up and walking over to her. “You’re my girlfriend, remember? People will expect us to be there together. Plus, it’ll be fun.”

“Your definition of fun is very different from mine,” Y/N muttered.

Karina tilted her head, a sly smile on her lips. “You’ll survive. And who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

The Night of the Gala

The Changryeo University gala was nothing like the sweaty chaos of the victory party. It was a high-class affair, with students and faculty dressed to the nines in designer suits and gowns. The event hall was decorated with glittering chandeliers and pristine white tablecloths, and a string quartet played softly in the background.

Y/N felt completely out of place. She adjusted the cuffs of her borrowed suit, glancing nervously at the crowd.

Karina appeared beside her, radiant in a sleek, black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She looked every bit the queen bee, her confidence practically oozing from every pore.

“You clean up well,” she said, eyeing Y/N with an approving nod.

“You mean I don’t look like a sweaty soccer player for once?” Y/N asked, tugging at her tie.

Karina smirked. “Exactly.”

She grabbed Y/N’s arm and led her into the crowd, greeting people with effortless charm. Y/N tried to keep up, but it felt like Karina was operating on a completely different level.

At one point, they were cornered by a group of Karina’s friends, who bombarded Y/N with questions.

“So, how did you two meet?” one of them asked, batting her eyelashes.

Y/N froze, her mind going blank. She hadn’t prepared for this.

“Y/N heroically saved me from a terrible date,” Karina said smoothly, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “It was love at first sight.”

The group burst into laughter, and Y/N shot Karina a look. She just winked at her, clearly enjoying herself.

Later That Night

After hours of mingling, Y/N finally managed to escape to the balcony. She leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.

A moment later, Karina joined her, holding two glasses of champagne.

“You’re not hiding, are you?” she asked, handing Y/N a glass.

“Maybe,” Y/N admitted, taking a sip. “This whole thing is… overwhelming.”

Karina leaned against the railing beside her, her expression unusually soft. “You’re doing fine.”

Y/N glanced at her. “Why do you even care about all this? The parties, the popularity, the drama. What’s the point?”

Karina was quiet for a moment, staring out at the city lights. “Because it’s easier to play the game than to let people see the real you,” she said finally.

Y/N frowned. “And what’s the real you like?”

Karina turned to her, a small, almost shy smile on her lips. “I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t look away. For a moment, it felt like the world had gone quiet, leaving just the two of them standing there under the stars.

“You’re… complicated,” Y/N said eventually, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Karina laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

As the night went on, Y/N realized that maybe, just maybe, being stuck in Karina’s world wasn’t as bad as she thought.

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: Roses and Petnames

Part 1: Here

CW: none

A/N: I’m so glad yall wanted more of this, I do enjoy these two they are fun so just let me know if you’d like to see more of them✨

Tag List: @georgiarose94 @maiajadestyles @fandomfreak404 @likea-silhouette @obsessiveenthusiast @thegr8estpuff @triski73 @amarenonamari @cloudyluun

Summary: You have a new Friday night routine and as fate would have it you also get a Saturday morning surprise✨

“Are these your only options?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so teasing as you ask the simple question but Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it as he holds up two hangers that have his shirt options for his dinner later in the evening.

Now if anyone had asked what you do on your Friday nights after work you know they’d think you were a bit off your rocker if you explained how you spend most of your Friday evening cuddled in the corner of your couch with a bottle of wine while on FaceTime with Harry Styles. But it’s the truth and it’s been your Friday routine for about three weeks now ever since you scrolled upon his profile on a certain dating app. Friday nights being your chosen night to spend with each other through phone screens since that seems to be the day when both of you have the most down time. Minus tonight because Harry reluctantly agreed to going to dinner with a few friends but you still get a few hours of his time which he made sure to clear his schedule for. Something that of course you weren’t aware of, you just assume that he calls you at the usual time of five in the evening because he needed some advice on his outfit and didn’t feel like bothering anyone else.

“Uh well I could go back in the closet and pick something else but-you really don’t like the red?” He asks as he looks down at the silky red long sleeved shirt and then back to you with a quirked brow. You rub your lips together as you shake your head making him let out a huff.

“I’m sorry it’s just a lot of red very close to your face.”

“So if I changed my face it would be a winner then?”

“Harry honestly when is the last time you wore that much red?”

“I wear red all the time.” He argues as he tosses the hanger holding the red shirt onto his bed before holding the other shirt option up to his chest as he looks at himself in his mirror.

“No you wear red as an accent color like red with giant white hearts or a floral print on top of it not just solid red.” You explain as you reach over for your glass of wine that’s sitting on your coffee table. Harry rolls his eyes as he moves around his bedroom so he can grab the pants he plans on wearing.

“I just think the blue is boring.” He states as he holds up the pants and the shirt in front of his iPad that he has perched on top of his nightstand, opting for his iPad so he has a bigger screen to see you on but you did tease him about it when he first used it last week because it reminded you of you grandpa using his iPad to take photos during the holidays.

“Blue makes your eyes pop.” You tell him making a small smile appear on his face as he eyes the blue short sleeved shirt one more time. “Besides it has white and pink stripes on it so I’d hardly call it boring.” You add before taking a sip of your wine.

“I wear blue a lot though so shouldn’t-”

“I’ve never seen you in blue.” Harry makes a face that lets you know he isn’t sure if you’re joking or not. You let out a chuckle as you lean over to place your glass back on the coffee table.

“You saw me get tattooed on television wearing a blue and white shirt love.”

“Yeah but that wasn’t in the flesh like in person or even over a phone screen.”

“So if you don’t see it with your own eyes in person then it doesn’t count? Is that what I’m learning tonight?” Harry can’t help but laugh and shake his head when you nod in response, he doesn’t know why but it’s little conversations like this that have him feeling all warm and fuzzy inside and deep down he wonders if it’s because it just feels like a conversation between two people who like each other.

“Exactly now go put the whole outfit on and I��ll tell you if it’s acceptable or not.” You smile at the way Harry doesn’t even hesitate to walk off to his bathroom so he can change. “Oh and remind me again who all is going to be at this dinner?” You only raise your voice the slightest amount since you know he can hear you.

“A few people from the label as well as Jeff and I think Mitch and Sarah but I’m not completely sure if they’ll come or not.” He answers as he walks out of the bathroom messing with the buttons of his shirt. He stands a little bit away from the camera so you can get the full picture of his outfit. “So? What do we think?” He asks as he holds his arms out and does a slow spin making you laugh as you bring your phone closer to your face so you can see the details of his black trousers better.

“Is that a gold belt?” Harry looks down at the belt he picked and immediately starts to undo it so he can slide it off while shaking his head and giving you a shrug.

“Gold belt? No why-why would I pick a gold belt with cool toned colors? That’s absurd.” You just roll your eyes as he mindlessly tosses the belt towards his closet door and gives you a playful grin. “Obviously I’ll wear a silver one.”

“Do you need a belt or is it just an accessory?”

“Uh no I don’t-”

“I like it better without the belt.”

“You know it’s sort of odd I’m taking fashion advice from someone I’ve only ever seen in pajamas or workout clothes.” Harry watches your face as he teases you because neither of you can manage to go long without a playful jab at the other and you find it’s something you enjoy about talking to Harry, he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

“You’re literally the one who called me and asked for my opinion and besides you said my smiley face pajamas were cute.” You remind him as you stand up from your couch and head into the kitchen while Harry walks over to where he keeps his jewelry so he can begin to pick out his rings.

“They are very cute.” You smile when you look at your phone screen and see him concentrating on finding a certain ring, the statement about your pajamas being cute falling out of his mouth without even having to think about it. “What are your thoughts on pearls?”

“Oh I only have inappropriate thoughts about pearls. What about you?” Harry lifts his eyes away from his jewelry case so he can send you a playful glare while the corner of his mouth goes upward into a small smile.

“Are you drinking red wine?” You laugh as you place your phone on the counter making Harry get a decent view of your kitchen ceiling. “You get a bit cheeky on red wine.” He adds as he goes back to picking out a few rings.

“I think pearls would look nice.” You answer his original question, ignoring the one about what kind of wine you’re drinking.

“What are you doing? Why am I still looking at the light fixture above the sink?” Harry doesn’t mean to sound whiney but he also doesn’t have much time left before his driver will be arriving and he would much rather be looking at your face than your ceiling.

“I’m putting a pizza in the oven you’ll get my face back in a few minutes you drama queen.”

“What kind of pizza?” He feels as if he already knows the answer because wine and pizza seem to be your usual Friday evening routine and he’s only ever seen you make one type.

“I’ll give you three guesses and if you get it wrong then I’m hanging up and unmatching with you.” You threaten as you grab your phone allowing him to see your face again after what was really only a few minutes but to Harry felt like half an hour.

“Three cheese on one of those flatbread crusts?” Harry guesses and when he sees you smile he knows he’s right making him grin in return.

“Wow a man who pays attention. You’re a rare gem Harry Styles let me tell ya.” Harry laughs as he clasps his dainty pearl necklace closed, ignoring the way his cheeks feel a bit warm at your compliment.

“I like learning new things about you so of course I’m paying attention to you love.”

“Stop it.” You place a hand over your face as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink making Harry smile. “You aren’t allowed to say things like that to me Harry it’s rude.”

“Rude? It’s just the truth.”

“Because what am I supposed to say to that?”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He reassures as you finally lower your hand allowing him to see your face again. He gives you a soft smile as the two of you just stare at one another for a moment. Harry can practically see his words sinking in, him admitting that he likes learning things about you and he doesn’t really have time to get nervous that maybe he overshared or said something wrong as he watches as you slowly start to smile and look away from him.

The two of you have casually flirted with each other but it normally is in the middle of random conversations and most of the time it’s been over texts exchanged during the week, so hearing him make a comment like that to your face is something you aren’t quite used to. But you don’t hate how it makes you feel, all the butterflies it causes to erupt in your tummy and how pink your cheeks get. And you know it’s not because it’s Harry Styles saying it, it’s because someone you’ve found yourself developing a rather large crush on is saying it as his way of dropping little hints of how he’s feeling about you.

“I like the pearls.” You motion to your neck and Harry just smiles as he takes a small step backwards so he can show you his hands letting you see which rings he went with. “Oh no initials?”

“Eh everyone at this dinner knows my name so there’s no need for them.” You laugh as he shoots you a playful wink.

“That isn’t why you wear them Harry and you know it.” Harry just shrugs as you grab the phone and carry it with you as you head back into the living room to grab your wine glass.

“No I wear them because I’m a narcissist right? That’s what the rumor is?” He questions as he watches you take a sip of your wine that is in fact red making him smile to himself.

“I have no clue? Are there rumors about your rings?” You ask with a raised brow as you place your glass down on your counter before leaning your phone against your coffee maker so you can check on your pizza that’s in the oven.

“I don’t really know actually. I know people think I’m like a hand guy and-”

“Well yeah you’re totally a hand guy.”

“What? I am no-”

“You have a song about choking someone and you have that cross tattoo and all the rings.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m-I’m a hand guy? That just means I like rings and uhm the choking thing isn’t like-”

“Harry.” He stops his rambling and looks at you the moment his name slips out of your mouth making him let out a huff as you just stare at him with an oven mitt on one hand and the other resting on your hip. “We listen and we don’t judge okay? It’s fine. Besides you have nice hands.”

“Thank you.” Harry feels like his cheeks are going to be permanently flushed a light shade of pink with the amount of blushing you have him doing. You hear a light dinging sound come from your phone as you put your oven mitt on the counter.

“Was that you or me?” You ask as the corners of Harry’s mouth start to droop a bit.

“It was me. My driver is here.” You want to roll your eyes at how he lets out a sigh as if going to dinner with his friends and a few label people is the absolute worst thing he could be doing with his Friday night.

“Well have fun and I’ll talk to you later okay?” Harry just gives you a smile as he nods and runs a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to fill you in on any hot gossip I hear.” You laugh as you grab your wine glass so you can take a sip. “Enjoy your pizza and your wine. I’ll talk to you later love.” You smile as he gives you a small wave that you return with your free hand and before he ends the call he quickly blows you a kiss that makes your face get hot just as the screen goes black.

What are you doing right now?

You smile as you read Harry’s text, having spent most of the morning chatting with him about how his dinner went last night you’re not shocked at his sudden subject change. You quickly type out a reply before grabbing your sunglasses and your water bottle and walking out your front door.

About to go on a little walk. What about you?

Harry chews on his bottom lip as he reads over your text, he doesn’t know why he feels a sense of nervousness begin to overtake him for simply wanting to hit the FaceTime button near your contact name in his phone. Now that he knows he wouldn’t really be interrupting anything serious, not that walks aren’t important because he knows you enjoy your “hot girl mental health walks” as you call them and go on a few a week but surely you could walk and talk to him at the same time.

“Oh just do it already Harry don’t be a ninny.” He mumbles to himself as he uses his thumb and presses the FaceTime icon.

“Well hello there.” You smile as you answer after just two rings. “Miss my face already huh?” Harry has to laugh to keep himself from just openly admitting that yes, he did miss you a bit because he didn’t get his usual amount of time with you last night due to his dinner plans.

“How’s the walk going? Are you doing your usual route of going around your neighborhood?” He asks as he notices some trees and bushes in the background as you continue walking down the street near your house.

“Sort of but I’m going left instead of right at the stop sign up ahead.” You inform him as you hold your phone up and flip the camera so Harry can see the stop sign just a few feet in front of you. “See where that leads me.”

“Sounds like an adventure.”

“What’s the pop star got on his agenda today? Anything fun?” Harry just shrugs as he sits down on his couch and runs a hand through his hair.

“No plans today actually.” He answers as you flip the camera back around so he can see your face. “I am feeling a bit restless though so I might go to the gym later-”

“The gym in your house or the gym you do your little boxing stuff at?” You ask before you take a quick sip of water while Harry silently deals with the fact you managed to remember him briefly telling you about his boxing class the other day that he takes at a gym not too far from his house. “What? You thought you were the only one who pays attention?” You joke as a grin takes over Harry’s face as he shakes his head and lets out a chuckle.

“No I just-I don’t know? It feels nice.” He clears his throat before he continues trying to explain how he’s feeling. “I don’t always feel like people are actually hearing what I’m saying. Sometimes I think people sort of get caught up in who I am so they kinda can’t focus on what I’m saying so it’s just a nice feeling to know you’re listening.” You can’t help but feel your heart drop the tiniest bit at Harry’s honesty, having no clue what it must feel like for him to not know if what he’s saying is even registering with whoever he’s talking with or if it’s just going in one ear and out the other because they let the fact he’s Harry Styles get in the way of really hearing him.

“Well you do talk a lot but don’t worry I’m always listening even if sometimes I look like I’m not.”

“Oh yeah? Like that time you were asleep? Were you listening then love?”

“I wasn’t asleep I was just resting my eyelids. Blinking all day is hard work.”

“Last time I checked sweetheart that’s just called sleeping.” He doesn’t mean to let the petname slip out but he also isn’t mad that it did because in his mind he’s been talking and getting to know you for three weeks now so calling you something other than love isn’t that bad, or at least he hopes you don’t take it badly.

“Okay and when was the last time you checked? Because I wasn’t asleep. I responded to your question and everything.” You can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you try to keep the conversation going without letting Harry know how his little petname has you feeling like you’re back in high school talking to a crush. But of course Harry notices right away how your cheeks get pink and your smile seems to stretch extra wide as you continue on your walk, finally reaching the stop sign and heading left.

The two of you continue talking as you enjoy your walk through a new part of your neighborhood. You notice once you’re about five minutes away from where you turned left that the houses in this part of the neighborhood are mostly gated and a bit on the bigger side than the ones in the part you live in. Harry is in the middle of telling you a story from his One Direction days when he notices you stopped walking.

“Everything okay?” His voice is only mildly filled with concern as he can clearly see you’re not hurt and for the most part he can see you’re still alone on the sidewalk you’re currently walking on.

“Oh yes sorry I just got distracted by these flowers.” You say with a laugh as you turn the camera around once again so Harry can see the flowers that had you stopping in your tracks.

Now Harry could argue that he’s quite used to being sort of caught off guard, having been stopped at random and sometimes inconvenient times by people asking for a photo or just wanting to say hi. But being actually shocked isn’t something he’s used to, so when you turn your camera around to show him some flowers he isn’t at all prepared to see his own flower bed appear on your screen. The reason he knows it’s his flower bed that he has right outside his front gate is because of the roses, something his mother planted there during one of her visits and he makes sure to take excellent care of them.

“Uhm those-those are very pretty.” He answers as he quickly gets up from his comfortable spot on the couch and heads for his kitchen where he keeps the tablet that shows the cameras he has around the outside of his house.

“Right? I love roses they are simple but so pretty.” You explain as you flip the camera back just as Harry is taking a little look at the camera he has on his front gate and sure enough on the screen he sees you standing there holding your phone up while slightly bent over so you can smell his roses.

“What color roses are your favorite? I quite like the classic red ones if I’m being honest.” He asks in an attempt to get you to stay where you’re at for as long as it takes him to find and put on his shoes.

“Oh the reds are lovely but the pink-” You stop talking when you hear a sound coming from behind you that sounds an awful lot like a door opening and then shutting.

“Pink huh? I don’t know why I had you pegged for yellow or maybe orange.” Harry watches your shoulders go tense as he stands behind you, right outside his gate. You look down at your phone and see Harry has turned his camera around so all you’re seeing is your back letting you know you’re in fact not dreaming and his voice is really coming from directly behind you.

“Oh my god.” You mumble as Harry ends the FaceTime call so he can slide his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. You slowly turn around and slide your sunglasses up so you can see him better. He gives you a smile and a small wave as you put your phone in the side pocket of your leggings.

“You’re real.” Harry laughs at your comment as you take a small step towards him as if you’re worried he might disappear if you get too close.

“I am.” He answers with a smile as he also takes a step towards you but unlike you he’s not worried about you disappearing he is more so worried you don’t think he’s actually standing here.

“It’s nice to finally meet-” Before he can finish his sentence you’re dropping your water bottle on the ground causing a metallic clanging sound to be heard as it lands, then you’re wrapping your arms around him in a hug that he immediately returns.

“You smell good.” Your voice is muffled a bit as your face is pressed against Harry’s chest but you know he heard you because you feel his chest vibrate as he lets out a low chuckle.

“Would you uhm mind some company on the rest of your walk?” He asks nervously once the two of you pull away. You give him a small nod before you turn to grab your water bottle off the ground.

“I’d love some.” Harry smiles as you slide your sunglasses back down and turn so you’re facing him. He takes a step towards his flower bed and you watch him bend down and reach out for one of the roses.

“Since you like them so much.” He explains as he stands up and hands you one of his roses, you let out a sigh as you take it from him with a smile.

“That was smooth Harry real smooth.”

“Yeah that’s probably the smoothest I’ve ever been.”

“So it’s all downhill from here then?” You tease as you bring the rose up to your nose and give it a sniff. Harry laughs as he takes a step to the side so he can stand next to you on the sidewalk.

“Exactly.” Is all he says as the two of you begin walking down the street, you keep the rose in your hand while Harry has to shove his in his pocket so he doesn’t try to reach over and grab yours.

“Looking forward to it.”

[celestiamour]

HAAII!! would u be able to do se-mi (player 380) comfort where the reader has like a nightmare and goes to her?

ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you look for her after a nightmare┊0.5k words

contains: comfort! canon-typical violence, “friends” with feelings

➤ author's note: short one! college and writer’s block is kicking my ass

“se-mi? are you awake?” you whispered, keeping your voice as small as possible so as not to disturb her if she wasn’t. 

she looked to the side to see your head poking above the frame of her bed, surprised to see you but not complaining considering how bored she was alone in her thoughts. “yeah, what’s up?” instinctively, she scooted over to the side to make room for you to join her on her bunk, allowing you to crawl under the blanket after a moment of hesitance.

“i hope i’m not bothering you…” you also hoped she wouldn’t be able to tell the extent of how flustered you were at the close proximity. the sheets still smelled like her and you had to consciously stop yourself from leaning in too close to her warmth so as to not appear strange. 

“no, don’t worry, i’m a bit of an insomniac.” she’s always been a night owl with a sleep schedule so horrid it would make any functional member of society gasp, and tonight is no different. aside from the two of you, she didn’t think there was anyone else awake aside from the guards watching over them. there was no way to tell what time it was, but she would make an educated guess of around three in the morning. “did something happen?”

“i-i had a nightmare…” despite it being a completely natural thing, you sounded embarrassed. she briefly wondered why you came to her instead of young-mi or dae-ho considering they would have been a lot better at comforting you than she would be, but then you continued, “you… died in it, and i got really scared…”

she couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the notion and reached out to brush your hair out of the way to get a better look at your pretty face in the dim light, “you don’t have to be scared for me, i’m a lot tougher than i look. i don’t plan on dying anytime soon without a fight.”

“yeah… i guess so… honestly, i wish i could be more like you,” you sigh wistfully, “you’re so calm and collected even in a hellhole like this, i don’t know how you do it…”

“well, it helps to have a good friend like you by my side…” a good friend she calls you, though it carries a positive meaning, feels a bit bitter on her tongue when spoken. you were supposed to be an ally and nothing more, someone whom she looks out for in exchange for the same, and yet she finds herself wishing for more— wishing to hold you tightly in her arms with promises you’ll both make it out together. to call you a girlfriend would be much sweeter.

but all she can do is exist in the same space with you, pat your head, and tell you to sleep since you’ll need all the energy you can get for the next day. you fall before she does, shaky breathing slowly falling steady, and she continues to stay awake, staring at your slightly chapped lips through half-lidded eyes wishing to kiss them.

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 2

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: Y/N makes a questionable purchase, endures an evening of coven induced chaos, and shares an unexpectedly nice breakfast.

wc: 8.5k (Chapter 2/?)

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this chap, but ngl i have way too much fun writing the coven, I’m sorry. The first half of this chapter is definitely coven heavy (because they’re chaotic and I love them), but don’t worry, towards the end is all about Lilia. again this one’s super dialogue heavy, which i'm not used to but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to cut any of it without hating myself. Just a quick heads-up, there’s no smut yet, but this chapter does lean into some more mature themes 

Ch. 1

also on ao3

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A week had passed since the Great Flirting Incident, and while Lilia hadn’t exactly acknowledged anything outright, I could tell something had shifted. She was watching me more closely now, little glances when she thought I wasn’t looking, the occasional pause before she called me baby like she was testing the waters. But she hadn’t made a move, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure she ever would.

So, naturally, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

It started with a simple realisation: Lilia Calderu was a woman stuck in another century. She still used a landline, still read newspapers, and still had absolutely no concept of modern convenience. I mean, she handwrites every single appointment into an actual paper planner. Who even does that anymore?

At first, it was just a passing thought, how much easier things would be for her if she had a smartphone. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect excuse to do something nice for her. Something that wasn’t just flirting but actually, you know, helpful.

Which is why I found myself standing in the phone store, staring at a sleek smartphone display, wondering if I was about to change her life or ruin mine.

By the following morning, Lilia was perched at the counter, lazily shuffling her tarot cards with that effortless grace that made my heart do embarrassing things. She glanced up as the door jingled, eyes flicking to the small shopping bag in my hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising a delicate brow.

I placed the bag on the counter with a triumphant grin. “It’s about time you stepped into this decade, Calderu.”

She sighed, long and suffering. “Y/n, I don’t need —”

“You do,” I interrupted, pulling out the sleek black smartphone. “This? This is a miracle. You can set appointments, track orders, and get this, stop living in the dark ages.”

Lilia stared at the device like it might bite her. “I like my dark ages.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, humour me. Think of it as an investment. For the shop.”

She exhaled dramatically but took the phone, turning it over in her hands with a look of mild disdain. “It’s so... modern. ”

“That’s the point.” I grinned. “And, because I care about y—” I stumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. “—because I care about... efficiency, I already programmed it with your contacts and the shop’s schedule.”

Lilia smirked, clearly enjoying my mortification. “Very thorough, baby.”

I flushed. “Just... try it.”

She sighed but started poking at the screen, and I watched, fascinated, as her brows furrowed in concentration. “Hmph. It’s... responsive.”

“That’s what touchscreens do.”

“Fascinating.”

I grinned, feeling victorious. “You’re welcome.”

Later that night, I sat on Agatha’s couch, nursing a drink and dramatically recounting my victory to the coven.

“She took the phone,” I said, gesturing grandly. “She even said it was fascinating. This is huge.”

Jen raised a brow. “You bought her a phone?”

“Yeah.”

Alice leaned in. “Like... an actual smartphone? ”

“Yes.”

Agatha, sipping her wine, smirked. “y/n. Baby. Darling.”

“What?”

“You have to sext her.”

I choked on my drink. “ WHAT?! ”

Billy, perched on the armrest of the couch, grinned. “I second this.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

Agatha leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “You cannot waste this opportunity.”

Alice covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”

Jen nodded sagely. “Listen, you’ve been pining after this woman for weeks. This is your moment.”

I gaped at them. “I bought her a phone so she could schedule tarot readings, not so I could send her—” I cut myself off, flushing furiously. “No. Not happening.”

Agatha smirked. “y/n.”

“No.”

“y/n.”

I groaned. “Guys, she doesn’t even like me like that.”

Billy scoffed. “She’s calling you baby every five minutes.”

“That’s just how she talks!”

Agatha shook her head. “Trust me, if she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t put up with your nonsense.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Jen patted my back. “Just... test the waters. Send something flirty. Nothing too intense.”

“Like what?” I mumbled into my hands.

Billy grinned. “Something like ‘Hey, Lilia. Thinking about you. And also that tarot reading you owe me.’ ”

“That’s not sexting?” I arched my brow.

Agatha shrugged. “Baby steps, y/n. Baby steps.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Or you could, you know, just use the phone for its intended purpose.”

Agatha and Billy groaned in unison.

Jen smirked. “C’mon, y/n. You flirt with everyone else like it’s your day job. Why not just send a little something spicy?”

I shook my head furiously. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Then hand me your phone.”

I snatched it away, glaring. “I will murder you.”

“Fine, fine,” Agatha said, leaning back with a sigh. “But mark my words, y/n, you will crack. And when you do, I expect details.”

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch.

This was going to be a disaster.

Another morning, another shift, I found myself watching Lilia as she tapped away at her new phone with a surprising amount of focus. She was getting the hang of it faster than I’d expected, which only made me more nervous.

“Enjoying it?” I asked casually, leaning on the counter.

She glanced up, lips quirking. “It’s... useful.”

I smirked. “Told you so.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re quite persistent, baby.”

I swallowed hard. Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.

Lilia left not long after, saying something about running errands and warning me not to rearrange her “perfectly organised” bookshelves while she was gone. I rolled my eyes, but as soon as the bell above the door chimed, I let out a breath.

I was halfway through dusting the crystal ball display when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a message from one of the chaos gremlins I called friends, I pulled it out without thinking, only for my stomach to drop.

New message from Lilia Calderu:"This phone might be useful after all. You’ve made me quite... curious."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

I could practically hear Agatha’s voice in my head.

You cannot waste this opportunity.

I didn’t respond to Lilia’s text. Not right away, at least. I told myself it was because I was busy, sorting inventory, helping customers, thinking about her like a lovesick idiot, but really, it was because I had no idea what to say.

"You’ve made me quite... curious."

What did that mean? Was she flirting? Was she just being her usual enigmatic self? Or was I reading too much into a perfectly innocent text from a woman who probably thought Wi-Fi was some kind of mystical energy?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and spent the rest of the day pretending it didn’t exist.

Later that night, I gathered the coven at my place, pacing my living room as I relayed the situation.

“So she texted that, and I didn’t reply,” I finished, waving my phone around like it was cursed. “I just left her on read. ”

Agatha groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “y/n. y/n. ”

Billy gasped. “You ghosted her?”

“It’s not ghosting if it’s only been a few hours!” I argued. “I needed... I needed time. ”

Jen stared at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “To do what, exactly?”

“Panic!” I exclaimed, throwing myself onto the couch. “You don’t understand! I can flirt with anyone, anyone, but it’s Lilia. She’s... Lilia. ”

Alice, sitting beside me, patted my knee with sympathy. “We know, y/n. But if you don’t reply soon, you’re going to look weird.”

Agatha sat forward, pointing at me with a knowing smirk. “You need to sext her.”

“No!” I practically shouted, scrambling to sit up. “We are not sexting!”

Billy grinned. “You cannot miss this opportunity.”

Jen crossed her arms. “y/n. Babe. If you don’t flirt back, she’s going to think you’re not interested.”

I groaned. “I am interested. I’m just not... ready to send the big guns. ”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll start small. What’s something flirty but not too flirty?”

Billy snapped his fingers. “Tell her you were thinking about her.”

I stared. “I’m not texting that.”

Alice suggested gently, “Maybe something like... ‘What exactly are you curious about?’”

Jen nodded approvingly. “Oh, that’s good. Leaves it open-ended.”

Agatha smirked. “And suggestive.”

I pointed at Alice. “I like that one. Safe. Respectable.”

Billy huffed. “Boring.”

I took a deep breath, typing it out slowly.

Me: What exactly are you curious about?

I stared at the screen, hovering over the send button. “Okay, I sent it. Wait, no, I can’t.” I threw my phone to Alice. “You send it.”

Alice sighed but hit send. “Done.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate this. This is awful. Why do people do this?”

Agatha snickered. “Because it’s fun.”

A moment later, my phone buzzed, and the entire group froze.

Billy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, she replied already?”

I snatched my phone, heart pounding.

Lilia: You, mostly.

Silence.

Then chaos.

I just stared at the screen in pure, unadulterated panic. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

Agatha grinned like the devil herself. “You say... ‘Only mostly?’”

Alice nodded. “Yes. Play it cool.”

I nodded slowly, fingers trembling. “Okay... okay.” I typed the words, hesitated, then hit send.

A minute passed. Another buzz.

Lilia: You do tend to take up a lot of space.

Billy fell to the floor. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

Agatha cackled. “It means you’re living in her head rent-free. Y/n, if you don’t escalate this, I will.”

I groaned, pacing the room again. “Okay. Okay. I need to flirt back. How do I flirt back without looking desperate?” 

Jen smirked. “You are desperate.”

Alice offered, “Maybe... ‘I hope I’m not too much trouble.’”

Agatha groaned. “Boring. Say, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’”

“I’m not pushing it, Agatha.”

Billy grinned. “Coward.”

I sighed, typing Alice’s suggestion.

Me: I hope I’m not too much trouble.

Another buzz.

Lilia: Not yet.

I screamed into a pillow.

Agatha raised her glass. “Ladies and gentlemen... we got her.”

The next morning, I walked into the shop with my heart pounding in my chest, expecting— hoping —for some sort of acknowledgment from Lilia. Maybe a sly smile, a lingering look, or even a teasing comment about our texts.

Instead, I got... nothing.

“Morning, y/n,” she greeted me in her usual warm but distant tone, barely glancing up from rearranging a set of tarot decks.

I blinked. “Uh, morning.”

She didn’t say anything else. No mention of the texts, no coy smile, no baby. Just business as usual.

I busied myself at the counter, sneaking glances at her whenever I could. And while she seemed to be going out of her way to act normal, something was different. She stood closer to me when we worked together, her hands occasionally brushing mine when I passed her something. She touched my arm when she needed me to move, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

But she didn’t say anything about it.

Not a damn thing.

And to make things worse, she kept casually reminding me of just how much older she was.

“You wouldn’t remember,” she said with a small chuckle when I asked about an old book she was dusting off. “It’s before your time.”

When I mentioned a show I’d been watching, she waved it off with a smirk. “Oh, y/n, that’s so... modern. I remember when television didn’t have color. ”

And when I tripped over my words trying to ask her a question, she just gave me that small, infuriating smile and murmured, “Ah, youth.”

It was driving me insane.

That night, I gathered with the coven at Agatha’s, pacing the living room like a woman on the edge. “She’s driving me crazy, ” I groaned, throwing myself onto the couch dramatically.

Jen raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t mention the texts at all? ”

“Not even once! ” I threw my hands in the air. “It’s like they never happened! And yet she’s touching me more than ever, but at the same time, she keeps bringing up how ancient she is.”

Agatha smirked. “Ah, classic ‘I’m too old for you’ defense.”

Billy frowned. “Wait, you think she’s doing it on purpose?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like she’s trying to create distance without actually pulling away.”

I groaned into a pillow. “So what does that mean? She’s interested but scared?”

Jen hummed. “Maybe. Or she could just be screwing with you.”

Agatha sipped her wine. “Or hear me out—she’s waiting for you to push past the age thing.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “Push past it how? ”

Billy grinned. “Flirt harder.”

I sat up. “I don’t think I can flirt harder, Billy.”

Agatha leaned in with a devilish grin. “Then you make her realise age doesn’t matter.”

Jen smirked. “And how exactly does she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes gleamed. “Confidence. You show her you’re mature, and that she’s the one wasting time over nothing.”

I frowned. “And if she’s genuinely not interested?”

Alice squeezed my hand. “Then at least you’ll know for sure.”

Billy nudged me. “Look, the way she texts you... she’s interested, y/n. No way she’s not.”

I sighed. “I just... I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “y/n. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s hesitant. There’s a difference.”

Jen nodded. “You just need to show her that you’re serious, that you’re not some wide-eyed kid crushing on her.”

I groaned again. “So what do I do?”

Agatha grinned. “You step up your game. And I have just the plan.”

The shop was quiet this afternoon, the scent of incense curling through the air as I busied myself restocking the shelves. Lilia sat behind the counter, flipping through a book, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration. It was a peaceful kind of day until the bell above the door chimed, and I looked up, nearly dropping the stack of crystals in my hands.

I froze.

Standing in the doorway, looking just as poised and elegant as ever, was my ex.

“Oh my God,” I muttered under my breath.

She blinked, then smiled in genuine surprise. “y/n?”

Lilia glanced up at the exchange, her expression pleasantly neutral, though I noticed the way her fingers paused mid-page turn.

I forced a smile, setting down the crystals. “Hey! Wow, uh... what are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “A friend of mine recommended this place. Said the tarot readings here were... life-changing. ”

Agatha, you absolute menace.

Before I could explain, Lilia stood, offering one of her usual polite smiles. “A friend of y/n’s?”

My ex turned to her, all charm and grace. “Oh no, dear,” she said with a small chuckle, resting a hand on the counter. “I’m her ex.”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Lilia’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening just a fraction before she masked it with a practiced blink. “Oh,” she said slowly, clearly recalibrating. “I see.” Her eyes flicked between us, and then, with an almost surgical precision, she added, “Aren’t you... a little old?”

I internally screamed.

My ex, to her credit, handled it with an amused smile. “It was perfectly legal, I assure you.”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t waver. “Hm.”

I coughed awkwardly, feeling my face heat. “We, uh... it was a while ago.”

Lilia didn’t respond, just continued observing me with that unreadable expression of hers, her hands resting lightly on the counter.

My ex gave me a lingering smile. “You look good, y/n. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under Lilia’s silent gaze. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” she replied with a casual shrug. “But I won’t keep you, I just wanted to check the place out. It’s lovely. I’ll be sure to come back when I have time for a tarot reading.” She smiled politely at Lilia. “I see y/n’s in good hands.” She added.

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she only nodded. “Naturally.”

I was pretty sure I was sweating at this point. “Uh, yeah, well, good seeing you. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” she said with a lingering smile before heading out the door with a soft chime of the bell.

The moment she was gone, I turned to Lilia, ready to explain but she was already facing away from me, carefully aligning a deck of tarot cards that didn’t need aligning.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick.

I cleared my throat. “Sooo... that happened.”

Lilia hummed noncommittally, her focus apparently glued to the cards in her hands. “Indeed.”

I shifted awkwardly. “You okay?”

She glanced at me, her expression perfectly composed but her eyes just a little too sharp. “I’m fine, baby.”

Baby. I nearly sighed in relief at the sound of it, but something about the way she said it, softer, more thoughtful made my stomach twist.

“You sure? You’re, uh... being quiet.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just... thinking.”

I frowned, watching her closely. “About?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead carefully setting the tarot deck down before meeting my gaze. “I suppose I’m just... surprised.”

“Surprised?” I echoed.

Lilia tilted her head, her expression unreadable again. “You didn’t strike me as someone who dated... older women.”

I laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh... surprise?”

Lilia studied me for a long moment, her lips pressing together like she was considering something. “I see.”

And then, without another word, she turned back to her work, and I was left standing there, feeling like I had somehow lost a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

By nightfall, I was back at Agatha’s, crashing onto her couch, groaning dramatically. “Agatha, you suck. ”

She grinned over her wine glass. “You’re welcome.”

Jen shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you saw your ex, Lilia found out, and now she’s acting weird? ”

“Weird,” I confirmed, running a hand through my hair. “She’s quiet. Too quiet. And she kept bringing up the age thing before, but now she’s, like, really leaning into it.”

Billy grinned. “So she’s jealous.”

I groaned. “I don’t know! She’s not saying anything. She’s just being all... introspective.”

Agatha smirked. “Oh, she’s spiraling.”

Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe she’s just processing. I mean, you’re younger, and she’s probably overthinking it.”

“She is overthinking it,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what to do!”

Jen sipped her drink. “You flirt with her more.”

Billy nodded. “Exactly. Show her age means nothing.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if I can just—”

Agatha cut me off. “y/n. Look at me.”

I looked.

“You are hot. You are charming. And you have successfully dated an older woman before. ”

I winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

She grinned. “Lilia Calderu is not immune to you. Trust me. She’s just panicking because now she knows she’s not the first older woman you’ve been interested in.”

Alice chimed in gently, “She might have been telling herself the age thing was a reason not to get involved with you. And now? She’s realising it’s not a reason at all.”

I blinked. “You think?”

Agatha smirked. “I know. ”

Billy fist-pumped. “So, new plan?”

I sighed, staring at my phone, where Lilia’s name sat in my recent messages. “New plan,” I mumbled. “Step up the flirting.”

Agatha raised her glass. “To y/n’s romantic conquest!”

I groaned. This was going to be so much worse than the texting.

I walked into the shop with renewed determination. Last night’s pep talk with the coven had me feeling... well, mostly confident. At least confident enough to step up my game and make it clear to Lilia that the whole age thing? Not an issue. I had a plan, flirt, be charming, and maybe, just maybe , get her to acknowledge whatever was happening between us.

Except life, as usual, had other plans.

The moment I walked in, the shop was packed. A line of customers at the counter, others browsing the shelves, and Lilia, poised, composed, and completely absorbed in reading after reading.

I blinked. “Since when do we get this busy?”

She didn’t answer, of course. Lilia never spoke during a reading, but the way she glanced up at me before flipping over a card for the woman in front of her said enough.

I sighed, shoving my bag behind the counter. 

After the reading, she finally looked up, smoothing her hands over the table. “It’s the full moon tomorrow. People are... searching.”

“Of course they are.”

So much for my grand seduction plan.

I tried, though. Between organising stock and ringing up sales, I threw in little comments. A brush of my hand here, a sly smile there. But Lilia? She was avoiding me like it was her new favorite hobby.

Every time I moved toward her, she shifted her attention to a customer. When I leaned against the counter, trying to catch her eye, she breezed past me with a murmured, “Excuse me, baby.”

And when I finally managed to get close enough to remind her about my plans, she barely registered it.

“Hey, don’t forget I have to leave early tomorrow,” I said, leaning in slightly. “Agatha’s art gallery thing, remember? I told you last week.”

Lilia, scanning a book title, nodded absently. “Mhm. That’s fine, baby.”

I frowned. “Lilia, Agatha will kill me if I miss it.”

Still no real reaction. “You’ll be fine.”

And just like that, she was gone again, moving to help another customer without a second glance.

I stared after her, utterly baffled. She was always attentive when I talked to her, always teasing or throwing in some cryptic comment to keep me on my toes. But today? Today, she was distant. Aloof. And it was driving me insane.

By the end of the day, I was ready to scream.

I stomped into Agatha’s that evening, slumping onto the couch in pure defeat. “She’s avoiding me.”

Agatha didn’t even look up from her wine. “Told you she’d spiral.”

Billy, sprawled on the floor with a tarot deck, flipped over a random card and smirked. “I predict that she’s freaking out.”

Jen raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from the cards?”

“No, I got that from common sense,” Billy said, grinning.

Alice offered me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe she’s just busy?”

I threw my hands in the air. “No, Alice. She’s strategically avoiding me. I tried everything today. Every time I got close, she found something else to do.”

Jen winced. “Ouch. So what’s the plan now?”

Agatha set down her wine, eyes gleaming. “Simple. You keep going.”

I groaned. “Agatha.”

“No, listen,” she insisted, sitting up. “If she’s avoiding you, that means she felt something yesterday. And now she’s panicking.”

Billy grinned. “So what you’re saying is... push harder?”

I groaned again. “You guys want me to die.”

Agatha leaned back, grinning. “You’ve survived worse.”

I sighed. “I told her I was leaving early for your thing tomorrow. She barely reacted.”

Agatha smirked. “Good. Because tomorrow, my dear y/n, she’s going to realise just how much she hates it when you’re not around.”

Alice smiled kindly. “Maybe a little space will make her see what she’s missing.”

I stared at the ceiling. “I hate all of you.”

Billy grinned. “We know.”

As soon as I stepped into the shop again, it felt like déjà vu. But thankfully today the shop was quiet. Not many customers, just the quiet hum of the incense burner. And, of course, Lilia still expertly dodging me like it was her life’s mission.

I tried to be casual about it, leaning on the counter and watching her pretend to be absorbed in inventory she’d probably memorised years ago. “Hey, mind if I use your place to get ready for Agatha’s thing later?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

She didn’t even look up, just nodded. “Of course. The spare key’s behind the counter.”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Thanks.”

And just like that, she was back to pretending I didn’t exist.

I stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to say something more, something to break through whatever walls she was so determined to put up. But instead, I just grabbed the spare key and headed into the back.

Lilia’s space was tucked behind the shop, a cozy, cluttered little place filled with books, candles, and an endless supply of robes draped over various furniture pieces. I didn’t think much of it as I changed into the dress Agatha had practically forced me to wear. The dress hugged every inch of me in all the right places, the deep shade accentuating my skin in a way that even I had to admit was... impressive.

I slipped on my heels, applied my red lipstick with a steady hand, and fixed my hair until it fell just right. I wasn’t trying to do anything, this was just getting ready for Agatha’s event but even I could admit I looked good.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my things and stepped back into the shop.

Lilia was standing behind the counter, flipping through a book, seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t look up at first.

And then she did.

I watched the reaction unfold in slow motion, the way her eyes lifted, trailing up from the hem of my dress to my legs, then higher, higher, until they reached my face. Then she looked down, as if to double-check what she’d just seen. And then— snap —right back up again, her head jerking so fast I swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time ever, she said absolutely nothing.

I bit back a smile and walked over to the counter, heels clicking against the wooden floor, and held out the keys. “Thanks for letting me use your place.”

Lilia’s fingers closed around the keys, but she didn’t look away. Her dark eyes dragged over me again, slower this time, like she was trying to take it all in, maybe even commit it to memory.

There was something in the way she was looking at me, like she was working up the courage to say something. Her mouth opened slightly, and for a split second, I thought she might finally break her silence.

And then, right on cue, the door chimed.

“y/n, darling!” Agatha’s voice was as bright and smug as ever as she strolled in, wearing a knowing smile that only deepened when she saw the way Lilia was staring at me. “Look at you.”

Lilia’s gaze snapped away, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Agatha’s arm linked through mine, her grin positively feral as she turned to Lilia. “I’m stealing her for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Lilia finally spoke, her voice softer than usual. “Not at all.”

I turned to her with a small smile. “Bye, Lilia.”

She nodded, still looking at me like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Goodnight, baby.”

Agatha practically dragged me out of the shop, and as soon as the door shut behind us, she let out a low whistle.

“Holy shit, y/n.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, no, did you see her face?” Agatha cackled, practically vibrating with glee. “I think you just aged her a decade.”

I groaned. “She didn’t even say anything.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, starting the car. “Oh, honey, she didn’t need to. That woman was devouring you with her eyes.”

I bit my lip, staring out the window. “You think?”

“I know. ”

And honestly? I really, really hoped she was right.

The night with Agatha was exactly what I needed. I loved things like this, dressing up, feeling the buzz of conversation, the soft glow of lights reflecting off expensive paintings, and the effortless way I fit into it all. There was something about the atmosphere, about the way people looked at me, that made me feel alive. And, of course, Agatha basked in it too, sipping her wine with a smirk and throwing me knowing looks every time someone complimented my dress.

"You clean up dangerously well, darling," she whispered at one point, nudging me with her elbow. "No wonder Lilia nearly combusted."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the heat creeping up my neck. "She didn't combust."

Agatha just grinned. "She will."

After the event wrapped up, Agatha, never one to let a good night end too soon, insisted on a celebratory gathering at her place. It didn't take much convincing—Billy, Jen, and Alice were already in, and honestly, I loved being around them. Nights like this were rare, and I soaked it in, lounging on Agatha’s plush couch with a glass of wine in hand while she dramatically recounted the events of the night.

"And then," Agatha said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "she walked out of that little back room, looking absolutely devastating, and I swear to you, Lilia nearly dropped dead. "

Jen gasped in delight. "Shut up. "

Billy, sprawled out on the floor with his arms behind his head, grinned. "I knew it. I knew she couldn’t handle it."

Alice, ever the voice of calm, smiled softly. "She really didn't say anything?"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Not a word. She just... stared. "

Agatha smirked. "Stared? Honey, that woman was devouring you with her eyes."

Jen cackled. "So what’s the next move, y/n? Do we escalate?"

"I don't know!" I groaned. "She’s been weird all week, avoiding me, and now this? What does it even mean? "

Billy rolled onto his side. "It means she’s cracking."

"She’s definitely cracking," Jen agreed. "And if you play your cards right, she’ll snap soon enough."

I sighed, swirling my wine. "I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable, though. If she’s really that caught up about the age thing—"

Agatha waved me off. "Oh, please. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s terrified. "

"Terrified?" I frowned.

"Terrified because she knows you could wreck her entire world, and she wouldn’t stand a chance." Agatha leaned in with a wicked smile. "And she likes being in control, doesn’t she?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but my phone buzzed, cutting through the conversation. My heart leapt into my throat.

I glanced down, and there it was.

Lilia: Let me know when you get home safe.

I stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Billy sat up instantly. "Who is it?"

I swallowed hard. "Lilia."

The room erupted.

"Oh my God," Jen practically shrieked, grabbing my arm. "She texted you?! "

Agatha grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, she’s gone. "

I blinked, staring at the message. "It’s just... she wants to make sure I’m okay."

Agatha snatched the phone from my hand, reading the message aloud in a dramatic tone. "Let me know when you get home safe." She gasped theatrically. "Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve entered the protective phase. "

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. "It’s not a big deal."

Jen poked me. "y/n. Babe. This is a huge deal. She’s thinking about you right now. She’s picturing you coming home, kicking off your heels, and—"

"Okay, that’s enough," I muttered, my face burning.

Billy smirked. "But seriously, what are you gonna say back?"

I stared at the message again, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I don’t know. What do I even say? "

Agatha leaned in with a devious grin. "Simple. ‘Wish you were here.’"

I shot her a glare. "I’m not sexting her."

Alice smiled. "You could just say, ‘I will, thanks for checking in.’ Casual, but lets her know you appreciate it."

Jen hummed. "Or... you could send a little something extra. Not too flirty, just enough to keep her thinking."

I sighed. "You guys are terrible influences."

Billy shrugged. "We know."

I rolled my eyes but typed out a response anyway.

Me: Thanks, Lilia. I will. You're sweet for checking in.

I hovered over the send button, heart racing, before pressing it.

The room watched in silent anticipation.

Billy grinned. "And now we wait."

I stared at my phone, willing it to buzz again. The coven had gone back to their usual antics. Billy was dramatically narrating the highlights of Agatha’s gallery event, Jen was critiquing the wine selection, and Agatha was lounging with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with her own meddling.

But me? I was glued to my screen, staring at Lilia’s last message like it held the secrets of the universe.

And then, finally, my phone buzzed.

Lilia: Please let me know if I need to send the police out.

I snorted, shaking my head. “She’s threatening to call the cops on me.”

Billy perked up. “That’s sexy.”

I sighed, typing out a response.

Me: I’m at Agatha’s, staying here tonight.

A moment later, another buzz.

Lilia: Good. Glad you’re safe.

I exhaled, a small smile tugging at my lips. But before I could even process it, another message popped up.

Lilia: How did the night go?

The coven erupted.

“Oh my God, ” Jen gasped, grabbing my arm. “She’s fishing. ”

“Grandma’s up past her bedtime, ” Agatha grinned, swirling her wine. “Probably already touching herself thinking about y/n and that red lipstick.”

I choked on my drink. “ Agatha! ”

Billy cackled, rolling onto his side. “I mean, she did see you in that dress. You think she just went to sleep after that? Hell no.”

Alice, blushing furiously, covered her face. “Oh my God, guys.”

I groaned, glaring at them. “Can you all not? She’s being nice, that’s all.”

Agatha smirked. “Sweetheart, people don’t stay up texting their employees at midnight just to be nice. ”

Jen waved a hand. “Yeah, no one’s buying that. She’s sitting at home, staring at her phone, probably replaying that double take she did when you walked out in that dress.”

Billy wagged his brows. “Lilia Calderu: palm reader by day, handsy old woman by night.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Agatha grinned. “No, you love us. Now text her back. Be flirty, y/n.”

I peeked out from my hands. “What do I even say?”

Jen, ever the strategist, leaned in. “Keep it casual but suggestive. Something like, ‘It was good. Would’ve been better if you were there.’”

Billy gasped. “Yes, yes, YES.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s too much. Maybe just say, ‘It went well, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’”

Agatha snorted. “Boring.”

I sighed, staring at my phone. “Fine. I’ll go with something... middle ground.”

I typed, biting my lip.

Me: It went well. I think I made an impression.

The coven leaned in, waiting as I hovered over the send button. I rolled my eyes and hit it.

We all stared at the screen, waiting.

My phone buzzed again.

Lilia: I have no doubt you did, baby.

I froze, and the coven lost it.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling over the keyboard. “I think I’m going to die.”

Agatha grinned. “Not before you sext her back. ”

I stared at my phone, heart hammering in my chest, Lilia’s message practically burning into my screen.

I turned to the coven, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. “What do I say? What do I say?! ”

Alice sighed. “Keep it playful. Like, ‘Good to know my reputation precedes me.’”

Agatha smirked. “Or—and hear me out—‘I leave a mark wherever I go... want me to leave my mark on you?’”

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. “You all suck.”

Billy grinned. “And yet you keep asking for our help.”

I rolled my eyes but typed anyway, fingers trembling just slightly.

Me: Good to know my reputation precedes me.

A collective sigh of satisfaction rippled through the group as I hit send.

We all stared at the screen again. Silence. Then...

Lilia: It does. Quite the reputation, indeed.

Jen gasped. “OH. MY. GOD. ”

Agatha laughed, draping herself dramatically over the couch. “y/n, darling, you are killing her.”

I couldn’t fight the smile stretching across my lips, warmth spreading through me.

Alice giggled. “This is so cute.”

Billy nodded sagely. “It’s not cute, Alice. It’s sexy. ”

We kept chatting for a while longer, Agatha tossing out increasingly absurd suggestions that I shot down one by one, and eventually, we all crashed, smiles on our faces, hearts full, and just enough teasing to ensure I wouldn’t get a moment’s peace tomorrow.

It was so fucking early. Too early. The kind of early that felt like a personal attack.

I woke up to the sharp smell of coffee and the unmistakable sound of Billy and Jen bickering, their voices cutting through the dawn like they had no concept of time—or mercy. My brain protested every second of consciousness, but I managed to peel myself off the couch, blinking blearily.

After some groggy, half-conscious hugs and a round of mumbled promises to update each other, we all stumbled our separate ways, the world outside still drenched in that unsettling, pre-sunrise gloom.

And then... I was home. Alone.

And I was bored.

I wasn’t at the shop today, which meant I had absolutely no distractions. No tarot cards to organise, no shelves to restock, and, most importantly, no Lilia. I found myself pacing my apartment, debating whether it would be too much to text her again, but the thought made me cringe.

I needed an excuse. Something casual.

I chewed my lip, glancing at my keys. And then it hit me.

Lilia loved this little Italian pastry place across town, she mentioned it once in passing, some small hole-in-the-wall bakery that she claimed made the best sfogliatelle she’d had since leaving Sicily.

Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my coat and drove across town.

By the time I reached the shop, the Closed sign was still hanging on the door. It was early, too early for the shop to be open yet, but I knocked anyway, clutching the warm box of pastries in my hands.

A few seconds passed, and then the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there in a robe— a robe.

A silky, deep burgundy robe that clung to her in ways that made my brain short-circuit. Her dark curls were loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and she looked... soft. Sleepy.

And I was the one speechless now.

“y/n?” she murmured, brow furrowing in confusion.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember how to form words. “Uh... I brought breakfast.” I held up the box like an offering, as if that explained why I was standing outside her shop at an ungodly hour.

She stared at me for a beat, then at the pastries, and then back at me. Without a word, she stepped aside, opening the door wider.

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the shop mingling with the faint, warm scent of her.

Lilia gestured to the small table in the corner where we usually sat with tea. “Sit,” she said softly, closing the door behind me.

I obeyed, setting the pastries down as she disappeared into the back for a moment. When she returned, she had two mugs of coffee in hand, sliding one across the table to me.

“Thought you had today off,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

I shrugged, unboxing the pastries. “I do. I just... thought you’d like these.”

Her lips twitched. “From my favorite place?”

I grinned. “I listen.”

She picked up one of the pastries, inspecting it like she was deciding if I’d done a good job. Then she took a bite, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You really do listen.”

I laughed softly, watching her. “So, how’d the shop do without me yesterday?”

Lilia smirked. “It survived.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension from the night before melting into something more familiar. She asked about the gallery, my friends, the art. I told her about Billy’s ridiculous art commentary and Agatha’s smug satisfaction.

“You have good friends,” she said after a while, stirring her coffee thoughtfully.

“They’re the best,” I agreed, smiling.

She sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug with those dark, knowing eyes. “And they care about you... a lot.”

I shrugged. “I care about them too.”

Something flickered in her expression, but before I could ask, she glanced at the clock and sighed. “You should probably head back before they start wondering where you are.”

I pouted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m saying your fan club will miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the hint, and stood to gather my things. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get ready to open.”

Lilia smirked, walking me to the door. “Smart choice, baby.”

I paused in the doorway, turning to her. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning.”

She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze soft but unreadable. “Anytime.”

I left with a flutter in my chest, already thinking about what excuse I could come up with to see her again.

The evening was quiet, just me and the soft hum of the TV filling the apartment. I was curled up on the couch, half-watching some crime drama, the kind where the detectives always figure things out way too fast. My mind kept drifting back to this morning, Lilia in that robe, the way she’d looked at me, the way her lips had curled around the edge of her coffee cup like she was considering something she wouldn’t say out loud.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, telling myself to stop overthinking.

And then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, expecting a text from one of the coven, but my brows furrowed at the sender.

Lilia Calderu.

I sat up a little straighter, unlocking my phone.

The message? Absolute gibberish.

“fhbgggjkkjj”

I blinked.

I stared at it.

I blinked again.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Lilia? Everything okay?

No response.

I stared at my phone, waiting.

Still nothing.

I chewed on my lip, debating if I should call her, when—

RING.

I nearly dropped the phone as Lilia’s name flashed across the screen.

I fumbled to answer, pressing it to my ear. “Lilia?”

Nothing. Just... breathing.

Shaky, uneven breathing.

And then—

A whimper.

My entire body froze.

Another sound, soft and needy, and—

A low, drawn-out moan.

I choked on air, clutching the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mouth went completely dry.

There was no mistaking what I was hearing. No way.

I opened my mouth to say something— anything —but before I could, the line went dead.

I stared at the phone like it had just burst into flames in my hand.

“No. No way,” I whispered to myself, blinking rapidly.

This... this had to be an accident. Maybe she sat on her phone? Maybe—maybe she was watching a... video or something? Yeah, I thought, nodding to myself. That makes sense. Probably just a mistake.

A completely innocent, totally not deliberate mistake.

My phone stayed silent in my hands, and I sat there for about 20 minutes, just processing.

And then my phone buzzed again.

Lilia: Ignore that.

I gawked at the screen.

Ignore that?

Like it was just some minor inconvenience?

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: …Okay?

There was a long pause.

Then, finally—

Lilia: Goodnight, baby.

I groaned, falling back against the couch, covering my face with my hands.

“She’s going to kill me.”

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it, the soft whimper, the breathy moan, the way the call cut off before I could even process what was happening. My mind replayed it over and over, dissecting every second until I convinced myself it had to be a mistake.

Lilia had to have accidentally pocket dialed me. There was no way she’d do something like that on purpose. Right?

By the time morning rolled around, I was a mess, over-caffeinated, under-rested, and dreading what was going to happen when I walked into the shop.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, bracing myself for something, anything awkwardness, a comment, maybe even a cryptic remark about phones.

But when I walked in, Lilia was already behind the counter, counting the till like nothing had happened.

“Morning, y/n,” she said casually, not even looking up.

I froze for a second. “Uh... morning.”

She glanced up, arching a brow at my hesitation. “Are you alright?”

I stared at her, searching for any hint of discomfort or amusement anything that would give away the fact that she absolutely knew what she did last night. But she just looked... normal. Unbothered. As if she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just... didn’t sleep well.”

Lilia hummed knowingly. “Ah, too much excitement from your art gala adventure the previous night?”

I blinked. Was that... was that a dig? I couldn't tell.

“Something like that,” I muttered, setting my bag down behind the counter.

She straightened up and gave me one of her usual, polite smiles. “I need you to organise the crystal display today. People keep moving things around, and it’s driving me crazy.”

I stared at her, waiting for something, some sly comment, some subtle hint that she knew.

Nothing.

She just handed me a cloth and gestured toward the shelves like it was any other day.

I nodded slowly, taking it from her. “Sure. I can do that.”

Lilia’s lips quirked, and she patted my shoulder lightly. “Good girl.”

The words slipped from Lilia’s lips like they meant nothing, like they weren’t currently wreaking absolute havoc on my nervous system.

I gripped the cloth in my hands so tight I was surprised it didn’t disintegrate. My entire body was in overdrive, my brain short-circuiting in real-time, because after last night, after hearing that noise, after spending all night dissecting it from every possible angle, there was no way I could process her saying that without losing my mind.

And yet, Lilia carried on like she hadn’t just set me on fire.

She hummed to herself as she floated across the shop, rearranging candles with her usual air of elegant chaos, soft, sophisticated, yet somehow still completely kooky. She muttered something under her breath about “people putting things in the wrong places” and shot the candles a scolding look, as if they were responsible.

Meanwhile, I stood there, trying to act like my entire worldview hadn’t shifted overnight.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

There was no way she had butt-dialled me on purpose, right? No way she knew what I’d heard. But what if she suspected? What if she was saying things like good girl just to watch me unravel? Was I unraveling? It definitely felt like I was unraveling.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Lilia’s voice cut through my spiralling thoughts, and I nearly jumped, clutching the cloth like it was a lifeline.

“I’m—I'm fine,” I croaked, too fast, too awkward.

She glanced at me with a raised brow, then tilted her head, curls slipping over her shoulder in that careless, elegant way she always managed. “Mm.” Her lips quirked, amused but not prying, yet. “If you say so.”

I nodded too quickly, ducking my head and wiping the same spot on the shelf three times. Play it cool. Play it cool. She doesn’t know.

Lilia, completely oblivious to the chaos in my head, twirled one of her rings around her finger absentmindedly, watching me with a curious little smile. “You really didn’t sleep well, did you?”

I froze. Oh god. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, returning to fussing with the display, adjusting a vase by a fraction of an inch before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” I tried to keep my voice casual, but I was fairly sure I sounded like I was moments away from combusting.

Lilia turned, resting her elbows on the counter and watching me with a thoughtful expression. “The same one you get when you’re overthinking things. Your brow does this little... crinkle.”

My hand shot up to my forehead instinctively. “It does not.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh, it does.”

I groaned under my breath, focusing aggressively on the shelf in front of me. “It’s nothing. Just... a long night.”

She hummed knowingly. “Ah, still recovering from the art gala. I imagine it was... stimulating. Those events tend to linger, don’t they.”

I choked. “What?”

Lilia blinked, completely innocent. “The art. Your friends.” She paused. “The drinks?”

I stared at her, searching for even the tiniest flicker of something, anything , that might indicate she was toying with me. But she just looked... normal. Perfectly composed. Like she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. Stimulating.”

Lilia tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Are you in trouble? Did you get up to mischief?”

My entire existence was mischief at this point. “No.”

Lilia pursed her lips, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gently adjusted the sleeve of her robe, glancing at the clock. “Well, whatever it is, baby, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”

There it was again. Baby. My knees nearly gave out.

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the shelf. Focus.

To make things worse, she strolled over, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her, something warm, a little floral, a little spicy, something that was so Lilia it made my head spin. She picked up a crystal from the display I was supposed to be fixing and turned it over in her hands.

“This one’s nice,” she mused, running her fingers along the edges. Then, without missing a beat, she handed it to me. “For stress.”

I blinked. “I’m not stressed.”

She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that said she knew I was lying through my teeth. “Of course not.”

I took the crystal anyway, staring at it like it might offer me some divine clarity.

Lilia lingered for a moment longer, then gave a satisfied nod. “Well, I’m off to pretend I’m being productive in the back. Call if you need me.”

I watched her disappear behind the curtain, releasing the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. The second she was out of sight, I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned into my arms.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

She didn’t know.

And yet, somehow, it felt like she was winning a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

I sighed, rolling the crystal in my palm, muttering under my breath. “Progress. It’s progress.”

Because she wasn’t avoiding me. And if this was how she wanted to play it?

Fine. Two could play that game.

For now.

[my-castles-crumbling]

letter - Jegulus Microfic - background wolfstar - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 363

“So, boys,” Euphemia Potter said one night at the dinner table during the start of the holidays, “how was the first part of term? Anything eventful happen?”

Sirius and James exchanged glances. “Erm, no…” James answered, trying to keep his expression neutral. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his parents–not at all! He just knew they might not approve of all of his adventures. 

Sirius piped up. “You know us, just…really focused on classes.”

“Sure, sure,” Fleamont nodded from next to his wife. “Of course. It’s only…” He tilted his head to the side, like he was confused.

“Yes, it’s the strangest thing. I got a letter from Minerva McGonagall. You know how she’s a dear friend,” Euphemia said lightly.

James froze, keeping his eyes on his food. There were a million things McGonagall could have written to his mother about. How much trouble was he in?

“Yes, well. She wrote about how she keeps finding the two of you in broom closets together all around the school,” she continued, tone still light. “Do you know anything about that?”

But now James was actually confused. He looked at Sirius again, and back to his mother. “Erm..honestly, I don’t,” he answered awkwardly.

“Oh, boys, you know we accept you for who you are, don’t you?” Euphemia asked, eyes wide. “It’s really alright.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Sirius said, face red. “I’m dating Remus. We got together in September! So yeah, I’m bent, but not for James! That’s gross! Er, sorry, Prongs…”

“Nah, same here,” James mumbled, also turning red.

Fleamont, however, wrinkled his face in confusion. “Then why did McGonagall say that James was all over the castle with ‘Mister Bl-’ ow!”

Even though Euphemia elbowed him in the side to shut him up, it was too late. Slowly, dawning comprehension spread across Sirius’s face as James melted lower and lower into his chair, trying to avoid the mess in front of him. 

It was only then that Regulus, who had been sitting silently by Sirius’s side and enjoying the meal, finally spoke up. “Fuck,” he murmured, biting his lip and smirking a bit at James. “Guess that’s one way to tell them.

[aclockworkreader]

i would love to hear your opinion on the “kallmekris” booktok discourse that’s going on rn (if you’ve seen it). i feel like there needs to be a conversation about how a lot of the books that are recommended on tiktok in the “spicy” book genre simply just romanticize abuse (a point brought up in the kallmekris YouTube video). it’s driving me crazy how many takes i’ve seen along the lines of “just let women enjoy things” or “they’re just books, it’s fiction”. which just feels lazy. i think people are refusing to think critically about this topic because they enjoy the books. but you can enjoy something while also acknowledging that it can be harmful. idk i would love to hear your thoughts!

i’ve mostly seen the discourse about the discourse loll. i think i’m a bit removed from most of booktok on my fyp. and i haven’t watched the original video, so i can’t speak on the contents of it or say whether i agree or disagree with her.

but this is a topic i’ve thought about a lot and i’ve even considered making a video on it, so i will say this:

i think we’ve seen, in the last few years especially, a significant rise in people refusing think critically about any content they consume. they always use the “it’s not that deep” or “let people enjoy things” excuse whenever someone has a valid criticism, or even just points out something factual about the content they enjoy. i’ve said this before and i’ll repeat it ad infinitum, but that’s anti intellectualism at work and it’s deeply dangerous. as you said, you can and should be able to enjoy something while understanding that it can also have problems. and i invite the people who really believe that it’s “not that deep” to stay and for a few minutes consider that maybe it is that deep.

i’m not sure if the original creator was talking about all “spicy” books or a particular genre of spicy books (like dark romance, sports romance, erotica in general, etc). but i definitely do think that some of the most popular booktok books do romanticize abuse. i’ve read enough colleen hoover to know that that’s true, and i’m sure her books are tame compared to some of the dark romance novels.

my controversial take (that i honestly don’t think is that controversial, i just don’t hear many people say it out loud) is that most of the people who are deeply obsessed with those booktok books have a ton of internalized misogyny to unpack—which is why they either can’t see or refuse to see the problematic elements within that content, because then they’d have to examine it within themselves. those books uphold and perpetuate deeply hegemonic ideas about gender and sexuality (particularly in cis, straight relationships) and many of their readers hold those same beliefs.

the way i feel about this is similar to how i feel about women and our relationship to wearing make up/removing body hair/etc. we’ve been fed this lie that we wear make up for ourselves and shave because it makes us “feel good” (i blame terfs and choice feminism), but with few exceptions, that’s not true. we do it because we’re trying to fit a social norm that was created to uphold heteropatriarchy. we do it as gender performance. i still wear makeup! i still shave! but i know that’s why i do it and i’m honest with myself about it. and the same goes for these types of books. you don’t like stalker romances simply because you think they’re dark and sexy. you think they’re dark and sexy because patriarchy has ingrained in you that men disregarding consent and overstepping your boundaries again and again should be acceptable if he’s attractive enough. you can still read them, you can still enjoy them, just think critically.

there are obviously nuances and exceptions to all of this, and there are stories that explore themes of abuse without trivializing or romanticizing them (ie. a lot of horror and gothic romance), but that’s a whole other conversation.

honestly, i could talk about this for hours and i have so much more to say so this is a really condensed (lol i know) version of my thoughts, but i hope it gives you a good sense of how i feel.

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina! I don’t remember if I’ve already written to you about this or if it was somewhere else, but still. Regarding the “1D at the Brits” rumour - I’m about 95% confident that no such thing will happen and, moreover, that it could be a rumour leaked by the award show itself.

First of all, the timing. It appeared just after the tickets went on sale, but before the final nominations announcement. Within 24 hours it was a complete sold out - I know because I monitored them closely lol. The Brits do usually sell out, but definitely not as fast, not even (from what I could gather) in 2023 when Harry was expected to be nominated.

Second, the nature. The initial rumour was very firm that it would be a musical performance by 1D, but later repeats state that it’s still in the works, and more likely a video, and not even certainly featuring the boys. Alrighty.

Third, the motivation. Brits have had a steadily declining viewership for a good decade, with a notable peak in 2023 (I wonder why 👀). The nominations this year are not so banging, there is much overlap with last year, but after rumours like these about either a reunion or Harry’s comeback, the viewership may climb a good bit. Any speculation works, and if it’s not Taylor Swift attending (which is a point of discussion before any major award show lol, regardless of her nomination status or relevance to it), then it’s a 1D reunion.

Fourth, the patterns. Blame my steel trap brain that fights against low attention spans, but how different is it from Harry at Fire Aid? Or Harry at Glasto, or Harry literally anywhere, or the reunion rumours that appeared after Liam’s passing? Especially the last ones: first they also had people say (even on your blog!) that “everything was ready and about to be announced” (an over-emotional acquaintance of mine was even saying that “someone told her that someone found the rent contracts with Wembley and the marketing plans”, yeah sure). And then it was “oh they’re thinking about something now”. And then it was nothing. So rumours come and go, and if they don’t come true, they’re instantly forgotten. But I remember, and by now I really don’t believe anything.

Finally, the boys. From what we’ve seen of them over the past months, and especially from how Liam’s funeral was organised with an explicit intention to prevent a picture of the four of them with a “reunion” headline, I think they’re nowhere near being ready to withstand that, definitely not on an actual stage. And if any of my suspicions are true, it’s honestly abhorrent to think that their grief (and also in part ours, as a fandom) is being used as a marketing instrument, and that an act of mourning and remembrance for a lost brother can be labelled as a reunion.

And honestly, many rumours (not only these about 1D at the Brits, but also about Harry and occasionally about others artists as well) feel like they aim to build up the speculation in the media and in the public sphere and to force the artist’s hand through it. A self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. But that’s probably a discussion for another time.

I could kiss you. You have summed up very eloquently what’s been running around in my brain about this, too. And @apparentlybychance was literally saying the same thing about tickets sales this morning.

I’m super skeptical anything will happen. I’m super skeptical of my supposed insider anon (who, if you’re real and you actually want us to know something, come off anon and give me something to believe).

If anything, maybe they individually taped something if there’s some sort of video tribute. Because honestly, if they show up, it’s going to take the focus off of Liam. We could be wrong, but I’m not expecting them to be there.

[melosliving]

kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

we listen and we don’t judge …

The TikTok begins with Kelvin already recording, holding the phone way too close to his face. His mischievous grin is the first thing you see, and you can already tell he’s about to start some drama.

“Hey y’all, It’s your boy Kelvin, and we’re about to do the ‘We Listen and We Don’t Judge’ challenge. So, uh, we listen… and we don’t judge, right? Cool. Here’s mine : I might have tried on your wigs once or twice when you weren’t near.”

Your head whips around so fast you almost pull something. “Kelvin what the fuck” He bites his lip to keep from laughing, but his shoulders shake from trying to hold it in. “You said no judgment ! That’s the challenge!”

The camera now focusing on y’all’s feet, you snatch the phone out of his hand, scandalized. “First of all, this is not the challenge. Second, which wigs, Kelvin?!”

He raises his hands like he’s innocent. “Just the bob ones! I look good in a bob!”

You stare at him, speechless, while he’s cackling like he just won a prize. Finally, you roll your eyes and turn to the camera. “This man is deranged. I don’t even know why I agreed to this.”

Kelvin leans into the frame, still laughing. “We listen and we don’t judge, though!” You hold up a hand to stop him. “No, because you’re doing this all wrong. It’s supposed to be about quirky things you actually do, not whatever nonsense that just was.”

He smirks, leaning back into the couch. “I mean, technically, I do try on your wigs…”

“Kelvin, I’m serious,” you deadpan, narrowing your eyes at him. “Can you behave for one second?”

“Alright, alright,” he says, putting on an innocent face that you know is a complete lie. “Let’s do it your way.”

You sigh, refocusing the camera. “Okay, I’m starting this over because clearly, Kelvin can’t be trusted. Now, we’re doing the ‘We Listen and We Don’t Judge’ challenge, the correct way. Let’s go. Kelvin, start.”

Kelvin takes a deep breath, clearly trying to hide his smirk. “Alright. We listen, and we don’t judge… but the first time I saw you, I said ‘smash’ in my head.”

Your jaw drops as you stare at him in disbelief. “bro !” He throws his head back, laughing. “What? I’m just being honest! I mean, have you seen yourself?”

You try to hold back your laughter, shaking your head. “I can’t believe this man just said that on camera.”

“This is a safe space,” he replies, smirking. “No judgment, remember?”

“Fine,” you say, rolling your eyes but grinning. “We listen, and we don’t judge… but sometimes I purposely mess up my lines just so I can hear you repeat yours. Your accent is distracting.”

Kelvin stares at you, stunned, before breaking into a wide grin. “Wait—hold on. You’re telling me I’ve been messing up my takes because you can’t focus ? Are you not ashamed ?”

“I am really proud of myself when thinking about this,” you admit with a shrug. “It’s not my fault you sound good like that.”

Kelvin leans back, hand on his chest like you’ve wounded him. “You know what? I’m not even mad. That’s a compliment, low-key.”

“High-key,” you reply, smirking. Kelvin shakes his head, still smiling. “Alright, my turn. We listen, and we don’t judge… but I once told my mom you were my favorite co-star, and she called me out for blushing.”

Your eyes widen, and you laugh, covering your face. “Kelvin, stop! You’re lying”

“Im not, I’m just telling the truth,” he says, leaning closer to you. “Your turn.” You take a deep breath, pretending to think before confessing, “We listen, and we don’t judge… but sometimes I search myself on TikTok and click on edits of either myself or us because they’re so cute.”

Kelvin’s grin gets even wider. “You watch our edits?!”

“I do,” you admit, laughing. “Listen, they’re good! And honestly? The chemistry is undeniable.”

Kelvin smirks, clearly enjoying this. “See? Even the internet agrees we’re iconic.” The mood softens slightly as Kelvin says, “We listen, and we don’t judge… but sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough to show people how much I care about them. Especially you.”

You blink, surprised, before smiling warmly. “Look at him" you pout, your eyes glistening at him. "Kelvin, you’re one of the most thoughtful people I know.”

Kelvin looks at you, his grin softening into something genuine. “Alright, last one. We listen, and we don’t judge… but I think you’re one of my favorite people, and I don’t tell you that enough. Working with you on Mufasa was amazing, but getting to know you outside of all that? Even better.”

Your cheeks flush as you nudge him playfully. “Kelvin, you know what you’re doing. You’re never beating the allegations.”

“Let ‘em think what they want,” he says with a wink. The video ends with you both laughing as you lean into each other, the undeniable chemistry between you leaving the comment section in shambles.

#TikTok!Comments

@user 1 NOT HIM SAYING ‘SMASH’ I’M SCREAMING. 🫠

@user 2 The way they flirt so casually?? Get married already.

@user 3 Her admitting she searches their edits?? I’d do the same, sis.

@user 4 Kelvin really called her his favorite co-star, and I’m crying real tears.

@user 5 The chemistry is too real. aaron punching the air rn.

@user 6 They’re so natural with each other. This isn’t acting; this is love.

@The lion King Forget Mufasa. These two are the real stars.

@ melosliving 2025