#It was just a tricky one i need to think about <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bytemee · 1 month ago

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SECOND NATURE 3 — kim minjeong.

synopsis. teasing you has become her favorite hobby—especially now that she knows what makes you tick.

pairing. winter x fem!added!member!reader

warning(s). fluffy, winter is a tease, reader is kinda a loser lol, and let me know if there's more!

words. 1.5k

authors note. i know i said rendezvous update would be next but...chat...please...c'mon

navigation. main masterlist. request. part one. part two.

you're sitting behind the camera during a live, scrolling through chat with half an eye and munching on a snack. it’s an idle thing—minjeong’s doing the talking, answering questions from my while you're practically here to babysit so she doesn't spoil anything about your group's upcoming comeback.

"any artist you’d want to collab with in the future? oh, hm..." minjeong pauses, tapping her chin in thought.

you pause your chewing and lean forward, curious to hear her response. "iu."

did she just—? iu? you weren't expecting her to say you, obviously not; you’re not even a soloist. but still. you stare at her like she just betrayed the nation. she glances your way and grins at you, all teeth, and it makes you pout a little. how can she just casually say it like that, like she's not trying to crush your dreams with the simple act of mentioning someone else's name?

“wow,” you mutter, loud enough for the mic to pick up. “i thought you’d say me.”

minjeong’s grin doesn’t falter, though. if anything, it widens.

"i mean," she says. "of course i'd love to collab with our beloved y/n, but there are many other artists who are more worthy than her."

"yah!" you yell.

game day.

the finals. your team made it. you’ve got the match queued up on the big screen, snacks on the table, and the couch set like a shrine to your club. you’re wearing the jersey, the scarf, and the pride of someone who’s watched this team since they were six.

you don’t expect minjeong to watch with you. she never usually does.

but then she walks out of her room—wearing your team’s shirt.

your heart physically skips a beat.

you stare. you forget the snacks. you forget your name.

she plops next to you like it’s nothing. “who’s playing again?”

“you planned this,” you say, dazed.

“planned what?” she asks, blinking up at you, pure innocence.

“you’re evil,” you whisper.

the game starts. you don’t see any of it. not with her shoulder brushing yours, not with her humming the theme song mockingly. when your team scores, you yell. when they win, you jump to your feet—and then immediately point at her.

“you’re my lucky charm now.”

“oh?” she grins. “does this mean i get free snacks for life?”

“no,” you say seriously. “it means you wear that shirt forever. that’s a rule now.”

you’re talking to a staff member a few days later, telling some stupid comic book theory you have about multiverse timelines in dc. it's a nice little chat, casual. he's listening intently. it's fun, even though your voice is getting scratchy and you're so into the discussion you're using your hands too much.

you’ve never had a proper conversation about it with anyone here, and it feels refreshing to just get it all out, even if it’s way more complicated than it probably needs to be.

“…so if you think about it, right? there’s always a version of every hero, but what gets tricky is the overlapping timelines. like, if the flash changes something in one universe, it doesn’t just affect that timeline. it causes a ripple effect, but it doesn’t always stick. that’s why they bring in different versions of themselves to fix it, but then they risk creating even more divergent timelines. it’s like this whole cycle. some timelines… they just collapse in on themselves. boom. gone. do you see what i mean? it’s like—wow."

your hands are flying through the air now, cutting through the air as you use gestures to explain the theory. the staff member nods, laughing along, clearly amused and equally intrigued by your nerd rambling.

"imagine a timeline where wonder woman was raised by a human family instead of the amazons, or, or, or… if batman actually had powers? what do you think would happen to the universe? would that cause a catastrophic event? or maybe there are a thousand other batmen without powers that are basically the real version of batman. that'd be hilarious, but then we'd have to find out what caused the divergence. what if it was something stupid like his parents not dying? would he still become batman? or maybe he'd become a villain! i think that'd be cool, to see the dark, evil batman."

suddenly, there's an arm wrapping around your waist. you stop mid-sentence, freezing like a deer caught in headlights, as minjeong's fragrance fills your senses.

you glance up, blinking rapidly, trying to get your bearings, but she’s just there, her cheek resting against your shoulder as she whispers, "i see you're getting really passionate about this whole multiverse thing."

you feel the heat rise in your cheeks instantly. the hand that had been gesturing wildly moments ago now freezes mid-air, awkwardly hovering as you scramble to pull yourself together. "i—uh, yeah, i just—i'm, you know, just explaining it. nothing big."

minjeong chuckles, and you feel the vibrations of it against your shoulder. "you know,” she starts, “i didn’t realize you could talk for hours about comic books.”

you’re about to try and make a joke, but then you catch sight of the staff member beside you. he's clearly holding back a smile, looking between the two of you like he’s enjoying the show. you quickly lower your hand, your cheeks growing even warmer, and you mumble, “i, uh, i wasn’t talking that much…”

“you were,” she says, her grin growing wider, and that’s when it happens—she gives you another little squeeze, leaning in just a touch closer, her face tilting up toward your ear as she adds, “you know, you’ve been going on for, like, twenty minutes now. you must be really into it. kinda cute.”

you freeze again, your mouth open but no words coming out. her voice is soft, sweet, almost a murmur, and when you turn to look at her, her gaze is even softer. it doesn't help that she's standing so close, her breath ghosting over your skin. it's warm. inviting. her arm tightens around your waist as her lips curve into a smile, and you can't stop staring at her mouth.

and subsequently she whispers just loud enough for only you to hear, "i'm still your number one, though, right?”

you nod dumbly.

(of course, it's always her.)

after the awards show, you're exhausted and starving but still wrapped in your black suit, tie loosened but not gone. you and minjeong are bickering in the living room about dinner. the other members are scrolling delivery apps. you’re losing your mind.

“tteokbokki is a solid option,” you argue.

“you always say that,” minjeong replies, arms crossed.

“because it’s true! it is a solid option. and there are good ones nearby. and they deliver. it's easy and delicious, and we can get the extra cheese option. we need comfort food. please. come on. tteokbokki is the way to go here."

you stare her down, and she stares back. there's a battle happening in her eyes. you know she wants the same thing, but you're willing to fight tooth and nail for this.

she steps forward. grabs your tie.

pulls you down. face-to-face.

“we’re getting jjajangmyeon,” she says softly.

you forget every word you’ve ever known.

“cool?” she adds, lips inches from yours.

you nod. or black out. maybe both.

she lets go. turns to the others like nothing happened.

you stand there, gay-panicking like your body was struck by lightning.

you don’t post on bubble often. mostly updates, the occasional backstage pic, and once—because your members forced you—a blurry photo of your dog in a hat. you like the anonymity. when you do post, it's usually about a song you've listened to on repeat or an outfit you can't get enough of. but today, you decide to give your fans an update about your day.

you’re outside the practice room, waiting for aeri, as she wanted to grab dinner together. it's a rare moment of quiet, and you’re still in your sweats from the late practice that went way too long. your hair’s a mess, tucked under your favorite sock hat that you got custom-made for you last christmas.

you pull out your phone, unlock it, and stare at the screen for a minute. your fingers hover over the keyboard as you debate how to phrase the update.

you type quickly, your fingers moving with ease:

“sock hat. \^o^/ here's a photo of me i took before practice. how’s everyone else doing today?”

you pause, rereading it a few times, then hit send. just as you set your phone down and lean back, the notifications start popping up.

KARINA 💙: what are you doing

you blink. pause. your brain scrambles to remember—did you post that on bubble or—

oh no.

y/n: lol wait a minute y/n: how do i delete

NING: this is the bubble groupchat grandma 😭

y/n: wait when did we have a group chat?

y/n: can MY see this???

NING: yes

you nearly drop your phone trying to cover your face, heart racing like you just got caught doing something illegal.

winter: how do i save

winter: sock hat supremacy… you’re too cute !

y/n: …

KARINA 💙: …winters fav fashion icon everyone 🧦🎩

winter: you guys don’t understand how serious she is about that hat. i’ve seen it in three different colors.

NING: i saw it walk out of her suitcase on its own once

y/n: jealousy is a disease and i hope you all get well soon ❤️

winter: only jealous the sock hat gets to be that close to you 🙂‍↕️

y/n: yeah that’s enough

y/n: i’m logging off now

y/n: bye MY o(TヘTo)

GISELLE: sock hat aespa’s sixth member confirmed? GISELLE: wait are we still getting dinner? GISELLE: hello?

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amazinglyashy · 6 months ago

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HI I LOVE ur lads headcanons ‼️ idk if u do angst but im feeling some angsty/hurt/comfort........... can i pls request the lads men's reaction to the reader rejecting their confession bc we think they deserve better...... someone who doesn't have a heart condition (like the mc) or something........

Oh my gosh, thank you so much!! And oh man, I love angst and hurt/comfort, as long as I get to give it a tiny bit of hope/a happy ending! I felt this one though, I've thought about it before with my own MC…….. a few dozen times- Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request! <3

Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to you rejecting their confession due to feelings of inadequacy

Rafayel -

Rafayel is… surprised, to say the least.

Not only do you not have any memory of him or the things you did together- the things you did to him- but you also are straight up turning him down when he finally realized that he needs to confess to you all over again.

He's pretty upset.

It'll definitely turn into an argument, and you know he's hurt. Damn, you're hurt too, just having to turn him down. He makes you feel something, like you're special. Like you're everything to him. Like you're not…

Broken.

And it'll come out eventually. Maybe not blatantly so, but in small ways, your feelings of inadequacy will start to leak through the cracks that are forming in your resolve as you try to refuse a man who has already been refused his love by fate and prophecy for far too long.

And somehow, that makes it so much worse. Because he can fight fate, he can go against the currents of time and the ever evolving cruelty of human nature. But he can't do anything about the feelings raging inside your own head.

He's sure going to try though.

Angrily but calmly, he will start firing off things he has done for you, just because he's loved you so much, throughout all of your time together and even before. He doesn't know if it'll make it worse, make you feel like he already does too much for whatever it is you see yourself as, but he's going to do it anyway. And slowly, it'll start forming into the things you two do together- the things you've done for him when he needs you.

And you're going to be there a while, because until you start to realize, until he starts to chip away at that dark feeling in the deepest reaches of your mind and heart, he's not going to let up.

Not now, not ever.

Sylus -

He's a bit taken aback, but he's not particularly surprised. He had seen this coming, mentally prepared himself for it, even. He knew after his treatment of you when the two of you had just met again for the first time, that any sort of official relationship between you two would be tricky to get to. Especially putting an actual label on it.

He'll be a lot more surprised when he reads between the lines at your words, and realizes it's not because you're still scared of him, but because you don't think you're good enough for him.

"You can't be serious, sweetie."

He's not going to force you to accept his confession, but regardless of how timid or aggressive you become, whether you escalate it vocally or try to exit the conversation, he's not arguing with you. He pretty much refuses to, as he instead begins to state snarky facts as he crosses his arms, watching your reactions as he does.

"When you patched my wounds a month ago, was I not deserving of your hands caring for me because they were shaky and belonging to you? How about that girl you muttered about that we saw at the café who was mad at her boyfriend to the point of shouting, when he didn't get her the right cake she wanted? Are you saying you're worse than her? Helping me on jobs simply because you want to exist near me is… not good enough for me?"

"Sylus, that's not what I'm saying-"

"Oh don't worry sweetie. I know exactly what it is you're saying. I just know it's a particularly misinformed, self loathing thought for you to be having. Don't you think it's insulting for you to decide who I give my love to? After every calculated decision you have witnessed me make?"

He'll finally soften, reaching out a hand to gently rest on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle back and forth.

"You don't need to be concerning yourself with what I deserve in a partner. You should have faith in my opinions, if not for yourself, but for your confidence in me, sweetie. After that, the rest is up to what you truly want in your heart."

Zayne -

His reaction is definitely the most reserved initially, especially until he realizes why exactly you're turning him down.

He definitely has the passing thought that maybe you're just misunderstanding him again, just like back with the snow seals when the two of you were still kids.

When he realizes that's not the case, and instead, it's your own internalized feelings, he's first a bit relieved, and secondly- pretty perturbed.

"It's interesting to know that's your perspective, given how much you enjoy those fictional stories with ironic pairings. I would think that it would be the most romantic thing for a heart patient to be in a relationship with a cardiac surgeon.

His biting but well-meaning quips aside, he's not quite sure how to break it to you that he used to be in a similar boat, and still is to some capacity. Which is partly why he's a bit upset to understand your perspective.

He's genuinely surprised you haven't processed the timeline of the two of you and your lives. Your accident that caused the state of your heart, his leaving to study medicine and become a specialist in cardiology and a renowned cardiac surgeon- are you not able to see that it's not an inadequacy for him, but his own lack of knowledge when you first started having issues made himself feel inadequate? Why he left without a word for years in the first place?

And not just that- it also applies to other fields too. He has no issues helping you where you need him, because he knows the extent of your capabilities, much like he knows his own. And he will spend forever if he needs to, to show you that loving is not about who does more. It's about doing what your partner needs, no matter how much or how little that is, and loving each other through every hard moment.

And you're about to hear every ounce of his convincing, opinions, and own feelings, until you start to see. Until you finally see.

Xavier -

Unless you tell it to him straight, he's not going to know why you rejected him. He'll be hurt, but he'll accept your rejection graciously and politely, before trying to figure out just how to get you to accept it.

There's an increase in claw machine dates, movie night invitations, and how much he helps you with missions or even just around your apartment. Eventually, you process the weird behavior and you're all but forced to confront him on really truly why you rejected him.

It's Xavier, so you try to play it off as a lighthearted situation or a joke, but you can see his expression darkening, and you're not sure if it's because of him being upset at your words, or realizing just how much time he has sunk into you with how... broken of a person you are.

Turns out, it's the former!

It's hard to not realize such, as he's pulling you into the tightest hug he's probably ever grabbed you into.

For a while, it's just you and him standing there, with him squeezing you tightly and you not knowing what to do with your hands or the lump rising in the back of your throat. He doesn't really know what to say, but he does know he needs to say something.

"I'll definitely make you see that you're more than enough for me."

"Xavier- that's not how this work-"

"I know, and I don't care. I- I need you to know that you're everything to me. You're not inadequate, or broken, or anything you've been telling yourself. You're more than enough. You're more than everything to me. And I'm not going anywhere until you finally understand that."

#.writey #love and deepspace #lads #x reader #lds #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #.req

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ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat · 2 months ago

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ethereal - spencer reid x fem!reader

upon spencer's long-awaited return from a case, reader dresses up just for him and he gives her a new first

genre: smut wc: 1.8k warnings: soft dom!spencer, sub!reader, reader wears lingerie, mentioned masturbation (f), fingering, praise, squirting a/n: this is two anon requests i decided to put into one! --ty @spencerreidsrightsock for helping me brainstorm<3

It’s not like you to be doing so much for a man. You think of it as silly because it is. If a man really likes you, then you shouldn’t need to dress up for him.

But you really like dressing up anyways.

So here you are. In a see-through negligee that covers only your chest and ends at mid thigh. Below the bust line it’s completely sheer fabric, floating out like a princess’ nightgown only with fully visible panties. The colour white–usually symbolizing purity–makes you seem anything but.

You fear it’s appropriate for the occasion.

Because Spencer rarely is away this long. Usually it’s days–no more than five. This time, it’s been ten.

You know, you know, it’s a tough case, a tricky situation. But you’re needy. You haven’t been this long without him since you started dating. Sure, you could take matters into your own hands like most grown women do, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, he does it better. You can picture it, relive it, but it’ll never be the same. It’ll never beat the feeling of his fingers curling inside you. You’ll never be able to replicate that perfect rhythm he seems to find every damn time.

So you’re worse than usual. The moment the text came through that he was coming home in a few short hours, you essentially rushed to his apartment, but not before remembering the lingerie you purchased after a night of drinking with friends. You slipped it on and couldn’t help but admire yourself. Applause was surely in order for your tipsy self.

It’s not strange for you to be in his apartment when he’s not. Sometimes he’ll text, asking you to meet him at home. It typically means that he wants to see you in his bed as soon as possible. Since you came into the picture, he allowed sex to become a form of stress relief with the added bonus of being close to you. Spencer finds solace in giving you all the pleasure you could ever ask for. You assured him time and time again that being used by him was also pleasing, but he still insists on giving you as many orgasms as you can take.

Your lips freshly glossed, you fix your hair intently. When you hear his key enter the lock, your legs move quicker than it’s safe. The carpet in front of his desk makes for a perfect runway.

Your hands become fists on your hips as you attempt a pose to show off the lingerie he’s never had a chance to see.

“Sorry I’m so late, Emily had to talk to us about a case we’re consulting…” and then he sees you, eyes making their way over every dip of your body and every ripple in the fabric, “is that–uh–new?”

Spencer’s Adam's apple bobs around a gulp as your cheeks heat up. “I ordered it a few months ago.”

“Nice.” The word comes out in a higher pitch than usual, making him clear his throat after.

A few short steps bring him close enough to touch. His hands find the chiffon over your hips. The eyes you love–the ones that you find have memorized you several times over–come down to meet yours. “You look… ethereal.”

It’s definitely demeaning how you look up at him. Doe-ish, wide and sparkling like shimmering glitter. The compliments he loves to shower you in never fail to turn you into nothing. You’re unnecessarily sensitive to his praise.

“Really?” you whisper bashfully, lips curled into a grin.

“Really.”

Your arms wrap loosely around his neck as you lift yourself higher, standing on the tips of your toes to transfer some of the pink gloss from your lips to his. “Do you want to go to bed?” you ask gently.

Spencer nods and lays a kiss to the top of your head. “Go ahead, I’ll be right in.”

As if he commanded you to run as fast as you can, you pad into the bedroom, your bare feet bringing you to the soft mattress so you can climb onto it. You sit on your knees, the bed sinking beneath your weight. Only a few moments later, after shedding his coat and his bag, he finds you. His shoes come off before he’s mirroring your position on the mattress and his mouth connects with yours.

A hand tugs on your hair just enough to make you whine while the other reaches under the negligee to rest on the small of your back. His hand is warm, the rough skin of his thumb making passes as his lips part against yours.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, placing you gently on the pillows. Of their own volition, your knees open to give him room to start lavishing your neck with kisses.

“I missed you, too.” Your hand comes to his head, using his curls as leverage to bring him back up for a kiss. Hot and messy, your tongues collide, ragged breaths coming from both of you.

An insistent but reverent grip lands on your inner thigh. Spencer pushes your leg up, allowing you to hook it around his waist. In-between open-mouthed kisses moving swiftly down your chest, he murmurs a gentle, “you’re so, so pretty.”

Again, you’ve never said you’re strong. A moan desperately falls from your lips. You watch carefully as his eyes glide over your white panties or, more specifically, the small bow on the front of them. As they then lift to meet your starry ones, his fingers find the fabric covering your core.

“Is this okay?”

And you nod.

Any other day, he’d be hellbent on making you say it aloud but, for right now, after so long without you, a simple nod will suffice.

He moves the fabric to the side and gathers the surprising amount of wetness on his fingertips only to drag it upwards and start circling your clit. A buck of your hips makes him grin.

“What do you want?” Spencer asks gently, fingers speeding up, effectively rendering you speechless.

“Uh–fingers?”

He nods, letting two digits slip inside your entrance. The tips of his fingers hit your sweet spot on the first curl, making you whine and clench. “Good girl,” he praises while his other hand strokes the outside of your thigh soothingly.

The slight stretch turns into a throbbing sensation that makes your head spin. With every thrust, his palm hits your sensitive clit. You drip into his hand while whines leave your mouth.

His eyes never once leave your red face. He revels in how your lips part in a silent cry. This moment was only just a part of his reverie when he was away, the lonely hotel room being kept tolerable by every memory he’s accumulated of you since you met. Now that you’re wrapped around him outside of some petulant daydream, he can say everything is perfect.

In a fit of absolute need, your hips grind against his hand. His voice comes in a delicate whisper in your ear, “that’s it… you need more?”

A whine and an eager nod brings upon an instantly quicker pace. Driving into your G-spot, he makes sure to keep a consistent pace that makes your legs shake. It’s this pace that makes you embarrassingly close to coming already.

Your thighs clamp around his hand with force. You babble, barely coherent, “Spencer– I–I can’t… can’t–”

But it seems he couldn’t care at all less because he simply shushes you and places a sticky peck to your mouth. “Yes, you can, you’re doing so good.”

Breathing becomes difficult as his thrusts never once falter. The repeated bruising force against your most sensitive and sweetest point is quick to force you into a suspended state of fog and brain-curdling bliss. You’re uncertain on what the reason is as to why you desperately try to stop his motions but you’re glad he doesn’t let you. Because the moment he hits that spot one more time, you’re severely gone.

His lips leave gentle kisses all over your face as he patiently waits for your high to fall. And when it does, he’s right there to kiss you properly, as if communicating his love for you in a way you’ll understand in your haze.

“Do you think you can give me one more?” he mutters in a question, still pressing sickeningly sweet pecks down your neck.

As tired as your body is from only one orgasm, you crave impossibly more from him. So, you sigh, “yeah.”

Your underwear–the unnecessary barrier it is–is pulled down your legs slowly. After it’s been discarded on the floor, Spencer moves to your side, pulling your leg over his lap. He pulls the negligee further up your stomach before returning his hand to its rightful place between your thighs.

The embarrassing amount of wetness is collected by his fingers and spread over you teasingly. How sensitive you are is obvious by the whimpers slipping out of you uncontrolled. So, when his two digits make contact with your swollen clit, you turn your head and moan into his chest.

“Spencer, please,” you whine.

His free hand rubs circles into your waist. “I got you, baby,” he coos, “it’s okay.”

With no resistance, his fingers slip inside you again, your walls accommodating him immediately. This time, you can already tell, you won’t last long at all. Of course, he presses against your G-spot, but now, without any mercy.

Your core clenches with every rough thrust inside you. His shirt makes for something to muffle your cries.

“Fuck, S–Spencer, I’m gonna come again,” you mumble rapidly against him.

“Yeah?”

An eager nod against his chest seems to make him want to delay your impending orgasm. He takes his fingers out of you to toy with your clit instead. Although a minor setback that makes you whimper, his quickly moving hand moves in circles that bring that pleasure back even more intense.

It builds fast in your lower stomach, so fast your eyes roll back and your hips try to get away. But he’s too consistent. Your walls flutter around nothing as your second orgasm of the evening hits you hard. Spencer’s fingers work you through as you contract against them. A stream of fluid gushes out of your center, successfully soaking the sheets. It’s unfamiliar and something you never knew you were capable of.

The gentle circles he makes on your clit after you come dissipate into nothing as he looks down at you.

You mumble, voice laced with exasperation, “I’ve never done that… before.”

He knew, of course, that you’ve yet to do that with him but he is surprised that this time had been the first in your life.

“No?”

“I’m sorry.”

A surprised and honestly affectionate laugh leaves him. “Why?”

“I made a mess.”

“A mess that can be cleaned. Right now, that’s not something you need to think about.”

You look down at the lingerie you put on for him and smile bashfully, “you really like it?”And he does nothing but nod. “I love it.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid

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amiableness · 5 months ago

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Hi!! Just wanted to say that your dad!James series is genuinely one of the best series I have ever read on here! Keep up your amazing writing 💗

Could I perhaps request dad!James STRUGGLING with his very obvious breeding kink 😂 like they’re just doing domestic chores and routines around the house and James literally can’t keep his hands off her, even around Henry which makes Henry kind of curious of their relationship? Thanks!

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 991 words | pretty much 18+

thank you sm! so glad you're loving the series and i hope this is what you were picturing <3 series masterlist ; main masterlist

From the moment you stepped out in those sleep shorts—the ones that had been his undoing long before the two of you were even together—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The shirt you had on wasn’t anything remarkable, but the fact that it was his made it irresistible.

There was something different about you, something that had James completely worked up. His eyes drifted down, tracing how your shorts clung to your hips—tighter than usual. To anyone else, the difference might have gone unnoticed, but he had the fit of those shorts committed to memory. They were snugger now. His brows knitted together as realization dawned: that must be it—you’d gained weight.

And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing to him.

There was something deeply satisfying about being by your side as he watched you grow older, your body changing in subtle ways over time. It was intimate, domestic, and it stirred something primal within him.

For a fleeting moment, the thought crosses his mind—you might be pregnant. But he quickly dismisses it. It was far too soon since you’d started trying for that to be possible.

Leaning against the wall, James stifles a low groan as his eyes lock on you bending over to put something—he has no idea what—into the cupboard. Whatever it is doesn’t matter. All he can focus on is you, and his thoughts are spiraling fast into dangerous territory.

Heat coils low in his stomach as his mind drifts, imagining himself dropping to his knees in front of you. He pictures the way he’d look up at you, tugging your shorts down your legs, draping one over his shoulder as his lips pressed warm kisses into your skin. He’d trail kisses, licks, and soft bites until your pleas filled the air, begging that you couldn’t take any more. The thought of rising to his full height, flipping you effortlessly so your palms landed with a sharp smack against the cool granite, sent a shiver through him. He could almost hear the soft whimper in your voice as you arched your back, telling him just how much you needed him.

The desperation in your voice as you plead with him to fill you, to make you a mum, sends a desire thrumming through him. A thought flashes in his mind—if he were to get you pregnant, those infamous shorts would cling even tighter to your hips. The thought of you, all pregnant and pretty, leaves him feeling dizzy with want.

He’s never wanted anyone more in his life.

James calls your name, but you don’t turn around, too absorbed in flitting around the kitchen with your back to him. He had cooked dinner, which meant the clean-up was your responsibility tonight.

“Hm?” You hum in response, and James feels a flicker of desperation rise within him—he wants your attention, and it’s driving him mad.

Completely oblivious to his gaze, you stretch onto your tiptoes, leaning over the counter to reach that tricky corner as you wipe it down. The way you move, utterly unaware, only makes it harder for him to tear his eyes away.

He pushes forward, his hands landing firmly on your hips with a squeeze, and you startle, completely unaware of how near he was.

“Can you pause for a second?” He asks, his voice low, drawing your attention.

You glance over your shoulder, arching a brow. “I’m almost done. Just give me a few more minutes.”

“I don’t think I can.” He sighs, his hands sliding around your waist, moving deliberately as his fingers trace the curve of your hips and the softness of your stomach.

“Wha—oh.” You breathe, your words faltering as you feel him pressed firmly against your back, his intent unmistakable.

“There’s something about you in this shirt—my shirt—and these fucking shorts that’s driving me insane,” he mutters, his hand gliding up from your hips, tracing the curve of your stomach, brushing softly over your nipples before gently cupping your jaw, his touch deliberate yet achingly tender. He tilts your head to the side, leaning in to press a lingering kiss just below your ear. “You’re breathtaking. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

A shuddering breath escapes you, the warmth of his words settling over you. You want to tell him you don’t know how you got so lucky, but you can’t find the words.

“Fuck, all I can think about is bending you over this counter and fucking you full of me.”

Your breath catches, and you gasp sharply, twisting in his grasp to meet his gaze, your wide eyes searching his as heat blooms between you.

“Henry is right there.” You snap, and James casually glances over to his son in the living room, the blue light flickering over his little face as he watches the cartoon on the screen.

“He’s busy. I doubt he’d even notice if we snuck upstairs,” James murmurs, a grin spreading across his face as he hauls you closer, his hands firm on your waist. He dips his head, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, each one sending a shiver down your spine.

“Jamie,” you whisper, a soft hum escaping your lips as you feel him mumble a response against your neck, his breath warm and faintly teasing. “If you get Henry to bed I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”

James pulls back sharply, his gaze intense. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You reply, your voice steady.

James eyes you for a moment before calling out Henry’s name, then strides straight into the living room. You watch as he grabs the remote, shutting off the TV before effortlessly hoisting Henry over his shoulder. “Let’s go, bud. Bedtime!”

A soft laugh escapes you as you hear Henry’s protests, followed by James scrambling for some random excuse for why it’s suddenly time for bed. Their voices fade as they head upstairs, and you’re left smiling in the kitchen.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

#dad!james and bsf!reader universe #dad!james potter x reader #dad!james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter baby blurb #james potter blurb #james potter fic #james potter smut

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skiesuconn · 2 months ago

Text

Scream First, Flirt Later | ONE-SHOT

pairing: paige n azzi notes from author: hey! it took me a while to get satisfied with how it would go, but i'm really happy with how it turned out. i'm working on the laundry mat mix-up idea i had, but it's going to take a bit of time. i'd love if anyone sent me some prompts; i already have a few requests, but it’s okay. you can also expect chapter 3 of ''wdftl'' soon. happy reading. wc: 6k

The cold wind whipped against Azzi’s face as she stood at the entrance of the corn maze, shivering just enough to make her wish she'd put on something heavier. She tugged at her cream beige hoodie, pulling it tighter around her body, wishing she could find some warmth in the chill of the evening. Her white cream cargos swished with each step she took, and the sound of her Uggs crunching against the gravel was oddly comforting, grounding her in a moment that felt so different from the controlled routine she was used to.

Azzi tucked a curl behind her ear, feeling the weight of it against her cheek. Her hair was wild and chaotic, and she knew the moment she walked into the maze, all those untamed curls would probably draw a few too many glances. Her natural brown curls, the ones she tried to tame and hide under beanies and hats, always seemed to have a life of their own, and she hated the way they looked like they were trying to rebel. But tonight, they stayed out. Tonight, she’d let them roam free, just like her mind.

Madeline was bouncing around in her thick scarf, giggling with Rory, who was adjusting her glasses for the third time. Azzi caught the end of their conversation, the sound of their laughter mixing with the cold air.

“You’re going to love it,” Madeline said, grinning at Azzi, her oversized glasses slipping down her nose. “A night away from all your studying? You deserve this.”

“I think you both have more confidence in me than I do,” Azzi said with a dry smile, shaking her head. “But fine, I'll give it a try. This whole thing does seem kind of fun.”

Rory nodded solemnly, her plaid coat swaying as she adjusted her scarf. “Trust me, we need this. A bit of chaos to shake things up. You know, like real life.”

Azzi laughed softly, but her eyes scanned the maze again. The event organizers were there, wearing creepy costumes to set the spooky vibe for the maze, and they were handing out pamphlets to each group. One of the organizers, dressed like a grim reaper, waved them over, the cold moonlight reflecting off his white, skeletal face.

“Welcome to the maze!” he said in a voice too deep and ominous for Azzi’s liking. “You will find clues along the way, some hidden, some very much in plain sight. Beware of the monsters though—they’re tricky. Oh, and we’ve had a few… surprises before. Stay alert.”

Azzi’s stomach tightened. For a moment, she considered turning back to the warmth of Madeline's apartment. But she didn’t.

“Okay, okay, we got it,” Madeline chirped, her eyes sparkling. “We’re going to find those clues, I’m telling you. Come on, Azzi, let’s go! I think there’s a clue to the left.”

Azzi nodded and gave Madeline a small smile, walking with them into the maze. The three of them wandered through the twisting pathways, their voices mixing with the rustling of the dry corn stalks. Azzi’s eyes flitted over the terrain, but she couldn’t seem to relax. This wasn’t her world, not really. She liked control. She liked order. She liked knowing what came next.

But something about the maze, with its towering corn and winding paths, made her feel like she was on the edge of something… new. And that thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Eventually, Madeline and Rory disappeared around a corner, leaving Azzi standing in the soft, shifting light. The wind tugged at her beanie, and she brushed her curls behind her ear again, but her mind was elsewhere—distracted by the eerie quiet. Then, she saw it: the scarecrow, standing tall in a patch of moonlight.

The scarecrow’s presence made her heart skip a beat. It was too lifelike, its eyes too real in a way that felt unnatural. She took a few steps forward, curious, but her feet were hesitant, as though something was urging her to keep away. The paper stuck to its chest seemed like an invitation—and her mind, always overthinking, couldn’t help but reach for it.

Her fingers brushed against the edge of the paper, and that’s when the scarecrow moved.

Azzi gasped, stumbling backward, the wind picking up as the scarecrow jerked, its head snapping toward her in a way that felt far too human.

But before she could react, something strong and solid gripped her waist. The warmth of the body that pulled her back against it sent a jolt through Azzi’s chest.

“Whoa, hey, I’ve got you.” The voice was low and teasing, and Azzi immediately felt the strength of the arms around her. She was pulled against the chest of someone tall and broad, and for a second, she just froze.

When she looked up, her heart did an uncomfortable flip.

The woman grinning down at her was tall—so much taller than Azzi—and she carried herself with an athletic confidence that was hard to ignore. Paige’s blue eyes twinkled in the dim light, her lips curved in a cocky grin. She was wearing a tight flannel shirt, rolled-up sleeves revealing toned forearms. Her arms, muscular and strong, held Azzi steady, and it took everything in Azzi not to notice how solid her body felt.

"Got a little scared there?" Paige teased, her smirk only widening. She let go of Azzi slowly, just enough for Azzi to regain her balance but not enough to feel like she had any space.

Azzi blinked, disoriented, her pulse quickening. "I… I wasn’t expecting that." Her voice came out shakier than she'd intended.

Paige chuckled, giving her a half-shrug. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point of a scarecrow, right? Thought I might as well do a little bit of scaring.”

Azzi stared at her a second longer than she should have, her mind scrambling for a response. Her gaze flickered over Paige’s strong arms, the way her muscles shifted beneath the flannel, the faint hint of a tattoo peeking from under her sleeve. Confidence radiated from her in waves.

Paige tilted her head, as if she could read Azzi’s thoughts. “You alright?” she asked, her voice softening just a touch.

Azzi blinked, momentarily lost in the way Paige looked at her. “Yeah,” she stammered, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Just... startled. That’s all.”

Paige chuckled, but this time, it was quieter, more self-aware. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. I’ve scared people before, but you—" She waggled her eyebrows. "You really got me thinking I went too far.”

Azzi’s heart skipped. “I’m sure you have some wild stories,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” Paige grinned, leaning in just a little. “Like the time I made this guy scream so loud, he dropped his entire drink.” She lowered her voice dramatically. “Not my fault he didn’t see the creepy skeleton behind him.”

Azzi snorted despite herself, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I’m sure you’re so proud.”

“Hey,” Paige raised an eyebrow, “I’m a professional. It’s a gift.”

They stood there a beat longer, the maze spinning around them, but Azzi couldn’t help noticing how alive Paige seemed. It was like she didn’t care what anyone thought—she was just here, and she was going to have fun. Azzi wasn’t sure what that did to her chest, but the pull was undeniable.

“So, what happens now?” Azzi asked, suddenly more aware of how tightly she was clutching her paper.

Paige smirked. “Well, for starters, you don’t need that paper anymore. Trust me,” she said, her grin widening. “I can show you the way out.”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers still tight around the paper before she finally let it drop.

The cold air bit at Azzi’s cheeks, but she barely noticed, still replaying the way Paige had smirked at her like she had all the answers to the universe. They walked toward the exit, the dim lighting of the maze casting long shadows that flickered with their movement. The warmth of Paige’s presence next to her made Azzi forget the chill in the air. Or maybe it was the way Paige carried herself—like she wasn’t just walking, but sauntering. Confident. Azzi couldn’t help but steal glances at her.

Paige was talking, her voice playful. “You should’ve seen this guy. Six foot five? Built like a linebacker. I pop out from behind the corn, full scarecrow stance—arms stiff like this.” She demonstrated, making Azzi giggle. “I let out this awful groan, like—” Paige dropped into a deep, eerie growl that made Azzi jump, before she burst into laughter. “Dude screams. Not just a little yelp, like he’s in a horror movie. Drops his phone, turns around, and just bolts. Leaves his girlfriend behind.”

Azzi gasped, covering her mouth. “No way. What did she do?”

“She straight-up dumped him on the spot.” Paige’s grin turned wicked. “Told him if he couldn’t handle a haunted corn maze, he couldn’t handle her.”

Azzi shook her head, grinning. “I mean… valid.”

Paige chuckled. “Then there was this guy who tried to fight me. Swung his arms like he was battling a demon. Had to break character and go, ‘Dude, I work here.��”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Wait, do you ever feel bad scaring people like that?”

Paige tilted her head as though pondering the question. “Nah. That’s what they’re here for. The only people I don’t scare are kids. I love those little guys.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You? A six-foot-tall menace in flannel? You like kids?”

Paige smirked. “What? You don’t think I look like a ‘likes kids’ type?”

“Not even a little bit,” Azzi admitted, watching Paige carefully. “I figured you’d say you scare them for fun.”

Paige placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “You wound me, woman.”

Azzi ignored the flutter in her chest. “So what do you do instead?”

Paige shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Make sure they’re having fun. High-fives for the ones who make it through. If they’re scared, I just wave 'em past.”

Azzi didn’t mean to stare, but it was... kind of adorable. A tall, cocky scare actor with a soft spot for kids? That contrast was unexpectedly endearing. Paige caught her looking and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Azzi said too quickly, biting back a smile. “It’s just... cute.”

“Oh, so now I’m cute?” Paige shot back, leaning in just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch. “Wasn’t so cute when you were clinging to me like I was your last hope for survival, huh?”

Azzi shoved her lightly, heart racing. “Shut up.”

They reached the exit, and Paige slowed her steps. “Alright, here’s the deal. I need to change out of this.” She gestured to the scarecrow getup. “If I walk around like this, someone’s gonna rat me out. And I’m probably not supposed to be escorting guests through the maze.”

Azzi smirked, her dark eyes glinting with playful amusement. “You think?”

Paige grinned, completely at ease. “I need about five minutes. Meet me by the coffee van?”

Azzi nodded, a faint smirk still lingering. “Five minutes.”

Paige jogged off toward a small booth near the staff area, peeling off the scarecrow jacket as she went. The jacket dragged behind her, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to look cool—she was just trying to get out of the costume. All she could think about was the way Azzi’s smile made her chest feel tight, a kind of tightness that made her wonder just how long this connection was going to haunt her.

She changed quickly, swapping the scarecrow outfit for something that felt more... her. Ocean-blue jeans that fit perfectly, hugging her thighs and tapering down to her ankles. A dark coat with deep pockets, filled with everything she needed—snacks, her phone, maybe even a rogue basketball for later. The beanie she grabbed from a random table completed the look. Paige didn’t care that it was messy. It only added to her charm.

She glanced at her reflection in a car window before heading back outside. Not bad. Maybe even... kind of good?

Azzi was right where she said she’d be, standing by the coffee van, hands tucked into the sleeves of her oversized hoodie. She looked effortlessly warm despite the cold, as if she hadn’t just spent hours in a scarecrow costume herself. Paige felt that familiar tug in her chest again. Maybe it was just the night air... Or maybe it was something more.

Azzi looked up as Paige approached, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “Took you long enough.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up in mock offense. “Excuse me?” she said, giving Azzi an exaggerated look of offense. “Had to make sure I wasn’t smelling like hay.”

Azzi wrinkled her nose, the slightest hint of amusement dancing across her features. “Good call. I’m not into hay, personally.”

Paige smirked and closed the gap between them, unable to resist teasing Azzi further. “By the way,” she said casually, “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

Azzi blinked, her smile faltering for a split second. “Oh. It’s Azzi.”

Paige furrowed her brows. “Wait, spell that for me.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a quiet laugh. “A-Z-Z-I.”

Paige squinted dramatically, like she was deciphering a hidden code. “Damn, that’s tricky. Sounds like an old head name.”

Azzi gasped in mock offense, her hand flying to her chest. “Excuse me?”

Paige just shrugged, a grin tugging at her lips. “I’m just saying. That’s an old-school name. Bet you were out here settling the frontier or something.”

Azzi nudged her playfully, but the smile on her face didn’t quite reach her eyes. Paige staggered a little in the cold. “Shut up. You just can’t spell.”

“Listen,” Paige said, laughing, “that might also be true, but I still think you’re an old head.”

Azzi threw her hands up, trying not to laugh. “Bet. I’m officially washed. You figured me out.”

The exchange left Paige with a grin she couldn’t shake. She wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something so easy about being around Azzi. Something so natural. Even the way she laughed felt comfortable, like a sound Paige could get used to hearing every day.

The warm steam from their mugs curled around them, mingling with the crisp night air. The scent of autumn—damp leaves, the earthiness of the season, and a trace of pumpkin spice—lingered, settling in the spaces between them. They stood near a lamppost, its soft glow illuminating their faces, casting a quiet, intimate light over them. Paige caught Azzi’s gaze and held it just a moment longer than necessary, her heartbeat quickening. Azzi’s deep, doe-like brown eyes were magnetic, and there was something in the way they looked at her that made Paige feel like she was falling into something more than she’d bargained for—something too easy to lose herself in.

Azzi broke the silence first, her voice warm with a quiet amusement. “Okay, that was actually perfect. I’m not usually a hot chocolate person, but this... this was surprisingly good.”

Paige raised her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of it. “Told you,” she said, her voice low but confident. “I’m practically a hot chocolate connoisseur. It’s one of my hidden talents.”

Azzi smirked, clearly amused. “Hidden talents? You’re telling me you’re also a hot chocolate expert?”

Paige let out a soft laugh, a flicker of mischief dancing across her features. “Oh, absolutely,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of seriousness that made Azzi’s lips twitch into a smile. “I take it very seriously. Ready to be impressed?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but intrigued. “I’m not so sure. You’ve got a lot to prove.”

The air between them shifted, just slightly, as their easy banter deepened into something more. The playful teasing hung in the space between them, but the undercurrent of something unspoken—the quiet tug in their chest—was undeniable. Paige took another sip, her eyes briefly meeting Azzi’s, her chest tightening in that familiar way. They didn’t need to speak for the moment to stretch just a little longer than expected.

Then, just as the atmosphere grew heavier, a voice from the coffee van cut through the tension, a touch too casual, like something from a romcom.

The barista, a scruffy guy with a beanie perched too confidently on his head, leaned out of the window, scanning them both with an amused grin. “So,” he said, his voice dripping with teasing curiosity. “Are you two, like... a couple or something?”

Paige choked on her drink, sputtering out a laugh as she quickly wiped her mouth. “What? No,” she said, a little too quickly, her voice stumbling over the words. “We’re just... two people with a mutual appreciation for hot chocolate.”

Azzi glanced at her, the flush creeping up her neck. Her voice was quieter, almost to herself, as she mumbled, “Yeah, definitely not a couple.”

The barista raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but gave them an exaggerated wink. “Sure, sure. I’ll leave you two... lovebirds to it.”

Azzi’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and Paige couldn’t hold back her smile any longer, the teasing edge of it laced with something else—something a little softer. “Guess we’re a couple now?” she said, her voice low, amused but carrying that thread of warmth she couldn’t quite ignore.

Azzi smacked her lightly, her face still flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else. “Shut up,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips was telling. She hid behind her mug, still not quite able to cover up the warmth that had taken over her expression. “You’re impossible.”

Paige smiled softly, watching Azzi with a fondness that caught her off guard. There was something undeniably endearing about her—the way she tried to hide the softness in her laugh, the way she lit up over something as simple as a hot chocolate. It was the kind of sweetness that felt rare, and Paige found herself drawn to it more than she cared to admit.

A couple? Paige wasn’t sure about that. But whatever this was between them, it was something that had been quietly occupying her thoughts lately. --

Paige stood, extending her hand with a playful, dramatic flourish. “Let’s go. I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

Azzi hesitated for a beat before standing and following Paige toward the small pumpkin patch set up nearby. The distant crackling of a fire pit added an intimate warmth to the cool night air.

They settled onto a bench, pumpkins scattered between them. Paige handed Azzi a carving knife, her grin a mixture of confidence and something else—something a little more flirtatious.

“I’ll warn you now,” Paige said, settling beside Azzi with a casual ease. “I’m basically a professional at this.”

Azzi chuckled, her voice laced with teasing doubt. “Oh really? I’m sure you are.”

Paige’s hands moved with practiced precision, the knife cutting through the pumpkin effortlessly. Azzi tried to follow her lead, but her grip felt awkward, the knife hesitant. It wasn’t going as smoothly as she’d hoped.

“I swear, I’m the worst at this,” Azzi muttered, frowning as she worked at the pumpkin’s face.

Paige leaned closer, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

The proximity was startling, and Azzi’s pulse picked up when she felt the heat of Paige’s body just behind her. Paige’s hand brushed against hers as she took the knife, the touch brief but electric. Azzi swallowed, her focus momentarily faltering as the space between them seemed to shrink.

Paige’s body leaned in closer, their sides brushing as Paige’s steady hand guided the knife with a practiced ease. Azzi’s breath caught as the warmth of Paige’s body pressed against her back, the sensation far too intimate for a pumpkin carving session.

For a split second, everything around them seemed to fade. The sounds of the night, the crackling fire, even the cold air, all became distant. All Azzi could focus on was the pressure of Paige’s body behind hers, the way her breath seemed to slow and draw in sync with Paige’s.

Azzi’s hand slipped, brushing the inside of Paige’s thigh, and she froze. A wave of warmth rushed to her face as she quickly pulled back, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry.”

Paige’s response was soft, almost amused. “It’s fine, Azzi. You don’t need to apologize.”

Azzi’s cheeks darkened. “I wasn’t—ugh, I didn’t mean to—”

Paige smirked, her voice smooth and teasing. “Accidental hand placement is an art form, really.”

Azzi let out a nervous laugh, but her heartbeat was still racing. She tried to focus on the pumpkin, but it was impossible to ignore how close Paige was—how her warmth lingered just behind her, settling into Azzi’s bones.

Paige’s voice shifted, lowering, taking on an almost intimate quality. “Alright, let’s fix this,” she said, taking the knife from Azzi’s hand. “You’ve got to trust the knife,” she added with a wink, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “And trust me.”

Azzi leaned back slightly, doing her best to ignore the heat from Paige’s body radiating into hers. But the subtle brush of Paige’s breath against the back of her neck had her pulse surging again. She could hear the steady rhythm of Paige’s breathing, close and intimate, sending shivers through her spine.

“See?” Paige finally pulled back, holding up the pumpkin with a proud grin. “The secret to pumpkin carving? You’ve got to let go and have a little fun with it.”

Azzi blinked, staring at the finished carving. “That’s… actually impressive.” She couldn’t help but smirk. “I might start calling you the pumpkin whisperer.”

Paige took a dramatic bow before plopping the pumpkin on her head like a crown. “Behold, the Pumpkin Queen,” she declared with exaggerated grandeur, striking a playful pose.

Azzi snorted, unable to stifle her laughter. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”

Paige shot her a cheeky grin. “Starting a trend. You’ll thank me later. I’m basically setting fashion history.”

Azzi doubled over, clutching her stomach as laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. “You’re ridiculous,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “But also? I can’t stop laughing.”

Paige removed the pumpkin and gave it a playful spin in her hands. “You’re welcome. It’s all part of my charm.”

Azzi wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “Honestly? You just made this night a hundred times better.”

Paige’s playful smirk softened into something more genuine, her eyes meeting Azzi’s with a quiet intensity. “That’s the goal.” --

They stepped out of the maze together, the city lights flickering in the distance, mingling with the faint hum of passing cars. The cold air nipped at Azzi’s cheeks, but the warmth in her chest lingered. Maybe it was from laughing too hard, or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the girl beside her.

Paige stretched her arms behind her head, tilting her face up toward the sky. “You know, I really outdid myself this year,” she mused, flashing Azzi a sideways smirk. “Scared a solid ten people into screaming. Three ran. One even tripped and fell into the corn.”

Azzi scoffed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “And you’re proud of that?”

Paige chuckled, nodding. “Oh, absolutely.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them as they walked through the city, neon lights reflecting in the puddles on the pavement. Azzi found herself completely caught up in Paige’s stories—each one more outrageous than the last. There was a warmth to Paige’s voice, a way she animated her words, her hands cutting through the air with each ridiculous tale. Azzi barely noticed when their shoulders brushed or when Paige’s fingers accidentally skimmed the back of her hand.

Azzi caught herself when Paige leaned in a little too close, her voice dropping into a low, teasing whisper as she continued her story. “And then, this one dude, biggest guy I’ve ever seen, looked me dead in the eyes and—”

Azzi’s breath hitched when Paige’s hand brushed lightly over her arm. It was a brief touch, but it sent a jolt through her chest, a weird mix of electricity and something else she couldn’t quite place. Paige had a way of taking up space—of just being there—that made Azzi suddenly hyper-aware of every little movement, every brush of skin, as if something was shifting between them that neither of them had planned for.

By the time they reached Azzi’s apartment, the night was winding down, but there was an energy between them that still buzzed. The soft glow from the porch light cast a warm halo around them, and Azzi found herself lingering in the doorway, wishing she could keep this feeling going just a little longer.

“That was... fun,” Azzi said, shifting on her feet, suddenly unsure of herself. She gave a soft laugh. “Not what I expected, but in a good way.”

Paige tilted her head, studying her with that grin of hers, half-smirk and half something else—something softer. “Yeah? Glad I could keep you entertained.”

Azzi’s fingers nervously tugged at the hem of her hoodie, her heart racing in her chest. She glanced up at Paige briefly, then quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing. “And… thanks. For walking me home. You didn’t have to.”

Paige’s lips curved into a soft, teasing smile, her eyes still glimmering with amusement. “You insisted,” she teased, her voice warm and low. “Said you wanted to get here safely.”

Azzi’s shy smile tugged at her lips, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her hoodie, fingers twisting the material as her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. “I did.”

Paige took a deliberate step closer, closing the distance between them, her presence overwhelming. Azzi’s breath hitched as she felt the magnetic pull of Paige’s nearness. Her body responded instinctively, drawn in by the heat radiating from Paige. The warmth of Paige’s breath caressed Azzi’s skin, and the air between them became charged, thick with unspoken desire.

"So," Paige’s voice was low, husky, with an undercurrent of something more intense. “If I asked if I could kiss you right now, what would you say?”

Azzi’s breath caught in her throat, the question settling into her chest like a weight, both thrilling and terrifying. Her eyes flicked between Paige’s lips and her eyes, the unspoken emotions swirling between them. Without thinking, she closed the gap, her body instinctively gravitating toward Paige. The world around them faded into the background as Azzi’s heart pounded, the pulse of it syncing with the rapid rhythm of her breaths.

Paige didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, and when their lips met, it was like everything snapped into place.

The kiss wasn’t tentative. It was fierce, hungry, as if they had both been waiting for this moment far too long. Azzi’s hands flew to the thick lapels of Paige’s coat, pulling her closer, desperate to feel more of her. The coat slipped off Paige’s shoulders, discarded carelessly onto the floor as the kiss deepened. Paige’s strong hands moved over Azzi’s body, every touch sending a wave of heat crashing through her.

Azzi’s chest pressed against Paige’s as she felt her hands trail down, exploring the curves of her waist and hips. Her breath became shallow as Paige’s hands cupped her ass, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Azzi gasped, her body weightless in Paige’s hold, the sensation of being held like that sending a jolt of electricity through her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around Paige’s waist, clinging to her as they moved. Every inch of Paige’s body felt solid, strong, and warm beneath her hands.

The heat between them was unbearable, each moment pulling them closer to the edge. Azzi’s hands roamed over Paige’s chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, unable to steady herself as her body reacted to every touch.

They stumbled forward, the pressure of their bodies pressing against one another as Paige backed them toward the apartment. Azzi could feel the metal railing near the stairs, but before Paige could react, her back collided with it. The impact made Azzi burst into laughter, breathless and giddy, the tension momentarily breaking as they stood there, still tangled in each other.

Azzi’s eyes sparkled with amusement, her voice breathy with laughter. “Oh my God, you’re a mess,” she teased, her hands resting on Paige’s chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Shut up,” she murmured, leaning in again, this time kissing Azzi harder, more urgently. Azzi’s body responded immediately, her chest pressing into Paige’s, her hands sliding down to grasp the waistband of Paige’s jeans.

Azzi’s fingers brushed over the fabric, teasing the edges, and Paige groaned against her lips, her hands pulling Azzi closer, almost desperately. Azzi’s body hummed with anticipation, her chest heaving as she pressed herself into Paige, every touch sending waves of electricity through her.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Azzi pulled away, eyes catching something in Paige’s hair. She reached up, fingers gently grazing through the soft strands, her lips curving into a playful smile when she noticed the small piece of pumpkin still tangled in Paige’s hair from earlier.

Azzi’s laugh bubbled up, warm and teasing. “You’ve got a little something,” she murmured, her fingers delicately brushing the pumpkin out of Paige’s hair.

Paige blinked, looking confused for a moment before realizing what Azzi meant. A sheepish grin spread across her face. “Seriously?” she muttered, shaking her head, though there was something endearing about the way she was still so caught up in the moment. “Guess that’s what happens when you carve pumpkins and kiss me all in one day.”

Azzi giggled, the sound light and carefree, before her hands slid up Paige’s chest once again, teasing and lingering. “Guess so,” she said, voice heavy with desire. Her lips met Paige’s once more, but this kiss was deeper, more frantic. Azzi was overwhelmed, every inch of her burning with need as she pulled Paige closer, not caring about anything else.

The heat between them intensified, their kisses becoming more desperate as they fumbled for the apartment door. Azzi’s fingers trembled as she reached for her keys, every inch of her skin hyperaware of the closeness, the desire surging through her. She managed to unlock the door, but Paige’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into another kiss before she could step inside. The intensity of it made Azzi dizzy, but she wanted it. Needed it.

Azzi pulled away just enough to breathe, her hands still gripping Paige’s shirt. “Wait,” she gasped, voice thick with lust. She quickly kicked the door shut with her foot, closing off the world outside as she pressed herself into Paige’s embrace.

Paige smirked, hands sliding down to Azzi’s hips, keeping her close. “Good,” she murmured, her lips brushing against Azzi’s neck, the heat of her breath sending Azzi’s body into overdrive. “Because I’m not done with you either.”

Azzi laughed softly between gasps, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as she pulled her closer, unable to get enough. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Paige just shrugged, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Maybe,” she said, voice thick with desire. “But you love it.” --

Paige’s lips were on Azzi’s again, breathless and desperate, but then she pulled back just slightly, her forehead resting against Azzi’s. They both stood there, bodies tangled, hearts racing in sync, as if they were suspended in time. Azzi’s hands were still tangled in Paige’s hair, the pulse of their kiss still echoing through her chest.

Azzi breathed out a shaky laugh, her lips curving into a smile despite the heat that still burned between them. “You’re right,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “you really are insane.”

Paige smirked, her hands still at Azzi’s hips, holding her close but with a gentler touch now. “And you love every second of it,” she teased, her voice low and assured.

Azzi didn’t respond immediately, just looked at Paige with that same intensity in her eyes, a little smile tugging at her lips. She wasn’t sure how they had gotten here, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

She closed the gap between them again, but this time, the kiss was softer, quieter, as if they were savoring the moment rather than rushing forward. Paige’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her in tighter, and Azzi melted into her, allowing herself to feel the heat, the connection, the undeniable pull that had been there all along.

As they paused for a moment, their breaths mingling, Azzi’s fingers gently trailed down Paige’s arm, lightly grazing over the surface of her skin. Her gaze dropped to Paige’s hand, and she slowly reached out, her fingers brushing over the cool metal of the ring Paige wore.

She played with it absentmindedly, twisting it gently around Paige’s finger, her touch soft and playful. Paige's breath hitched slightly at the feeling of Azzi’s delicate fingers against her skin, but she didn’t move, letting Azzi explore at her own pace.

Azzi’s fingers brushed lightly over the back of Paige’s hand, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she flicked her eyes up to meet Paige’s. “You know,” she started, voice low and laced with mischief, “this ring’s kind of cute. But I think it might be getting in the way.” She let her fingers trail over Paige's hand, giving the ring another little twist, before her touch wandered down to her wrist, brushing the fabric of her sleeve.

Her voice dropped into a whisper, playful and suggestive, “Maybe we should just take this off too...” Azzi’s gaze flickered briefly to Paige’s lips, a slow, teasing grin spreading across her face.

Paige froze for just a second, her mind racing at Azzi’s words, before her hands moved instinctively, squeezing Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer into the kiss as if on cue. The move was bold, firm, but undeniably tender—sending a rush of heat through both of them. Paige’s thumb brushed the curve of Azzi’s cheek, moving a loose curl out of her face as if it was the most delicate thing in the world. Her touch was soft and intentional, the care in her fingers making Azzi’s heart race.

Azzi melted into the touch, her body practically vibrating with need, her breath hitching as she felt Paige’s hands on her, so strong yet gentle. The brief moment of tenderness only made the tension between them even more electric. The weight of Paige’s hands on her ass, pressing her into her warmth, sent a jolt of heat through her. She was sure Paige could feel her pulse beneath her fingers, racing as fast as her heart.

They pulled back for a second, breathing heavily, but the room around them felt like it was closing in, the air thick with the anticipation of what would come next.

Azzi’s voice was low, teasing, but with an edge of uncertainty. “I think we’ve both got some things we’re ready to take off…” Her fingers brushed the hem of Paige’s shirt, almost daring her to do the same, to take the next step.

Paige’s grin widened, but there was something wild in her eyes now—something they hadn’t let themselves get lost in before. “I like the way you think,” she murmured, her lips brushing Azzi’s once more, more urgent this time, more needy.

Azzi tried to guide them deeper throughout the apartment, but in the haze of desire, her hand fumbled for the door handle. She found it, but before she could open it, Paige held her back, her grip tightening on Azzi’s waist, pulling her into another kiss.

Azzi sighed into the kiss, half-laughing against Paige’s lips. “Seriously, we’re gonna get lost in here again,” she muttered, a teasing note to her voice.

Paige paused, her lips still hovering just above Azzi’s. She shushed her softly with a mischievous smirk. “Just stop talking for a while,” Paige whispered, her voice husky.

Azzi blinked, her heart pounding as she processed the command. She didn’t know what to make of it, but the intensity of Paige’s touch and the fire in her eyes left no room for hesitation. Azzi simply nodded, surrendering to the pull between them.

Paige brushed the curls away from Azzi’s face, her touch gentle but deliberate, as if the act itself was an intimate declaration. Her hands lingered for a moment, tracing the soft curve of Azzi’s cheek. With her thumb, Paige delicately tucked the stray locks of hair behind Azzi’s ear, the motion so tender, so careful, that it sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine.

Azzi’s breath hitched as she felt the warmth of Paige’s touch, but her lips parted in a soft smile, still burning with desire, and with a voice barely above a whisper, she murmured, “I think... we’re both ready for more, right?”

Paige’s grin widened, but there was a dark, teasing edge to it. She leaned in close again, pressing her body against Azzi’s, the heat between them radiating. “You’re damn right,” she murmured, lips brushing over Azzi’s ear. “But this time, I’m not letting you get lost again.”

Azzi's hands slipped down, her fingers brushing over the waistband of Paige’s jeans, her eyes gleaming with mischief. But just as Paige’s hand moved to grip her waist, ready to push them both forward, Azzi’s voice dropped again, low and dangerous, “Unless... you’re ready for me to take control.”

The air between them thickened, electric and charged, and just as Paige went to respond, everything froze. The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Azzi’s eyes flicked to the door.

The moment was broken.

#wbb #wbb fic #paige bueckers uconn #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #pazzi #azzi fudd #ncaa wbb #paige x azzi #pazzi fics #paige and azzi #uconn women’s basketball #uconn #uconn wcbb #pazzi fic #fiction #fanfics

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flwrkid14 · 16 days ago

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omg what about rockstar Danny who has this huge concert and the Wayne family gets tickets so they all go but Danny and Tim have been dating for a few months and Danny was able to break all of Tim’s walls. So we have a petty and pissed off danny who thinks Tim should abandon the bat family and join Team Phantom. In his last song for the night he plays “Cupid’s Chokehold” by Gym class heroes and reveals their relationship when it gets to “Take a look at my girlfriend” at 1:07 and batfamily is just shocked. Anyways no pressure, just thought it’d be a fun ask. Take your time and prioritize yourself!

hi anon! tysm for the ask <3 and wow this is such a brilliant idea! though it was a little tricky to convey in writing.. but I hope you like it!

The Wayne family gets tickets to the concert of the year—Danny Fenton, rockstar enigma, the ghostlight darling of the music world, is performing live in Gotham.

He’s known for a few things. One: his stage presence is unearthly. Two: he’s never once done an interview. Three: every song he writes sounds like it was bled out of someone’s soul.

(And Four: no one really knows who his music is about. The love songs, the heartbreak, the fury—it’s all so personal and yet so vague. A mystery Gotham’s tabloids would kill to solve.)

So when Bruce hands out the tickets, it’s treated like a normal outing. A night off. A nice show.

Tim doesn’t say much. Just, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

And for most of the show, it is good.

Danny is electrifying. His voice hits like a tidal wave and his lyrics—god, the lyrics. Furious things wrapped in velvet; love songs that ache like broken ribs. Songs about being pushed aside. Being invisible. Giving and giving until there’s nothing left.

Cass tilts her head, listening harder. Dick glances at Tim, who’s sitting very, very still. Bruce doesn’t notice anything yet—too distracted by the crowd. Jason is squinting at Danny like he’s seen a ghost.

And then it starts.

The final song.

A new one. Unreleased.

“I wasn’t gonna play this one,” Danny says, voice sharp with something bitter under the surface. “But I think I changed my mind.”

He nods at the band. They start playing.

The melody is upbeat—light, familiar. It’s Cupid’s Chokehold. People cheer. Some move to the melody.

And then—

Take a look at my girlfriend… She’s the only one I got…

Danny’s eyes flicker, sharp and glowing. His smile twists.

Not much of a girlfriend— I never seem to get a lot…

He stops singing for just a beat. Lets the music carry. Lets the tension build.

Then, clear as a bell:

Take a look at my boyfriend—

Spotlight.

It slams onto the VIP balcony. Onto Tim. Who freezes like a deer in the headlights.

He’s the only one I got.

The entire arena goes silent for half a second.

And then it erupts.

People are screaming. Phones come out. Tim is suddenly the most photographed man in Gotham. Jason shouts. Dick physically chokes on air. Steph screams “I KNEW IT!” while Cass just beams.

And Bruce? Bruce is staring at the stage like the math isn't mathing.

Danny doesn’t stop. He leans in.

He sings the rest of the song with so much love it’s almost cruel—every lyric like a thread being pulled.

He rewrites a few lines on the fly, just subtle enough:

She gets out when she wants ‘cause she’s strong like that He doesn’t need a cape, doesn’t need a mask— He’s already saved me just by being who he is.

And it’s not just a love song.

It’s a declaration. A confession. And, if you’re listening closely, an accusation.

Because every heartbreak song that came before it—the ones filled with rage and soft, splintering grief—suddenly make sense.

They weren’t just about some vague lost lover.

They were about Tim. And the family that never really saw him.

All that fury? That loneliness? That ache that threaded Danny’s albums?

It was theirs. Their behavior, their neglect, their silence. Turned into art. Turned into fire.

And Danny—Danny Fenton, whose voice can shake the world—just handed it back to them, live onstage, with a kiss blown to the boy sitting under the spotlight.

Tim covers his face with one hand. He’s laughing and crying and blushing hard.

Danny’s last note rings out, final and sharp. And the lights go out.

Backstage, later:

Tim shoves into Danny’s dressing room like a man possessed. “What was that?”

Danny’s taking off his mic pack, cool as ever. “Soft launch,” he says. “Or maybe the opposite.”

“You just outed us to the whole city.”

Danny shrugs. “They deserved to know.”

Tim sighs. Collapses into him. “You’re impossible.”

Danny kisses his temple. “You’re mine.”

And Tim—who clings to Danny like he was stitched into him—doesn’t disagree. He just holds on tighter.

Because the bats might be his family, sure.

But Danny? Danny’s home.

#thanks for the ask <3 #tim drake #danny phantom #rockstar danny #family bonding but make it public shaming #no thoughts just boyfriend onstage airing the family laundry #danny pulled a taylor swift and dropped a diss track disguised as a love song #i'm not incredibly satisfied with the outcome but I hope you enjoyed it!

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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago

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Out With the Old (Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, some questionable behavior from Floyd and Jade because who else? This is meant to be crack. Second part can be found here (x)

Riddle- "THAT'S LITERALLY ILLEGAL???"

He is too focused on hyperventilating because it sounds like you just admitted to a crime in front of him to even think about offering you one of his sweaters. Trey and Cater have to break it down for him unpaid therapist style that no, you are not wearing stolen property (probably), borrowing clothes is just something people in relationships often do. He then further needs it explained that no, you are not still in a relationship and since you want to get rid of the shirt it sounds like things ended poorly. His friends want to try and suggest he should give you an article of his clothing to replace the offending one but he's so focused on getting you something that matches dress code that they decide to quit while they're ahead. Literally.

Trey- "You know you can always ask us if you need help, right?"

Vil's right about Trey's tendency to fuss and spoil people being a bit of a flaw; he's in tune enough with his emotions to know that he should not, for his own sake, give you one of his old sweatshirts without being honest about why he wants you to wear it. But he can't exactly deny his instincts when it comes to the people he cares about. You're cold and uncomfortable, what sort of guy would he be if he just left you all alone? Just please don't brush this off with a comment about how much of a big brother or mother hen he is; it is already going to be pure torture trying to look at you in his things in a Queen of Hearts honoring way. He doesn't need an added complex on top of it.

Cater- "Oh honey no."

Cater doesn't like keeping stuff his exes gave him either, but luckily for him he's never been in a position where that's literally only the stuff he had on him. Speaking of things, he buys a bunch of clothes off magicam he barley has time to take the tags off of before the trend goes stale. You guys should totally ditch what you were planning to do today and have a little fashion show in his room. It'll be cute and he can get a bunch of cammable shots! Just ignore the pop music club hoodie he refuses to take back because it looks "so much cuter on you." <3

Ace- "That's extremely lame prefect."

He isn't blind; you're cute and poor. Anyone would jump at the chance to let you steal a hoodie, besides Ace isn't insecure enough to be super jealous of someone you clearly hate. He knows you well enough to tell when you are silently wishing death on someone, it's all in the vocal tone. But damn if this new bit of information doesn't make things tricky. He already makes a big fuss about not needing to focus on dating right now, and with that iconic sweatshirt of yours technically belonging to an ex it's not like he can just slide you one of his without making it super obvious what he's doing. Looks like you're just going to have to take some extra teasing for a bit prefect, it's his preferred method of cope.

Deuce- "You've been here for how long and the Headmage hasn't given you any clothes?!?!"

Deuce is a good egg whose primary concern is almost always your well being. He tends to act before his common sense and emotions can catch up with his thought process, and that's exactly what happens here. The concept of you dating someone is just so... foreign to him. Not because he thinks your undesirable! It's just that you guys are always hanging out, you not being around makes him feel a bit funny inside, and not in a good way. He doesn't mention that to his mom when he texts her asking if she has any of his old clothes laying around, but she definitely knows what's on his mind. Why else would she have sent his old delinquent jacket?

Leona- "Well that explains why it smells like shit."

Let the record show that Leona is in fact, lying to you. Your clothes don't smell like anything other than you and maybe some of the musk floating around Ramshackle Dorm, but that doesn't stop you from pulling the fabric and taking a good sniff. To Leona, all this really suggests is that you've been over the person long enough that you don't care about keeping their scent around anymore. Sure, a tiny thought does worm it's ugly way into his inferiority complex that "oh they liked someone else" but his equally large ego immediately slams the emphasis on "liked" and starts thinking about how to get his scent on you. He doesn't really own too many jackets like the one you're wearing, but he does have some nice silk scarfs he could wrap you up in. Much classier than whatever trash you had previously been going out with.

Ruggie- "You wanna toss it my way then?"

Clothes are clothes are clothes, you don't see Ruggie acting like his uniform is still Leona's just because that's who originally bought it. If you are really bothered by the memories of your ex, he's willing to listen and make fun of them, assuming that will make you feel better, but this won't make him jealous. That emotion is reserved for when you share food with other people. He is dead serious about taking the sweatshirt if you don't want it, as far as he's concerned that shirt belongs to you, and he wouldn't mind having an excuse to blend your wardrobes a little bit. It would make you even closer to being a real member of his pack.

Jack- "You can just take mine."

Jack's strong sense of justice and firm moral code are definitely his only motivations for offering you one of his sweatshirts. Forcing a student to wear clothes they find uncomfortable and associate with negative memories just because they didn't have the foresight to pack something they did like for a school they didn't know they would be attending is beyond unfair. That's what he tells himself anyway, and it's not like he isn't upset on your behalf, but it's plain as day to anyone that he wants to prove that you can rely on him; he's not like that other person, he doesn't mind being alone together with you.

Azul- "If your finances really are in such dire straights you know I could-"

Revealing personal information in Azul's presence is asking to be offered a deal. Sure that little complaint might have been insignificant to you, but for Azul? He's having a full blown Sherlock style breakdown going on in his head trying to decide what his angle is. 1) The prefect has dated in the past and doesn't look on that experience favorably. Does this prevent them from dating again? Needs further analysis. 2) Giving articles of clothing is an acceptable form of human courtship, even if used. Or is it especially if used? 3) Can he convince you to burn this if he gets you a replacement or is that too petty? 4) More importantly does this mean you have a type? And how does he press for that information without appearing desperate?

Jade- "Oh? Well that sounds extremely annoying."

Jade Leech is first and foremost a messy bitch who lives for other people's misery. Sure, he is reasonably certain he's in love with you at this point, but that doesn't matter. You have a story that's filled with second hand embarrassment and a bone to pick besides he is nothing if not an enthusiastic audience. The thought of you wearing clothes that he owns wasn't something he would have thought of himself, merfolk don't typically wear them so dating customs that involve them are a bit foreign to him. He would much rather just bite you. Or give you some jewelry. both he wants to do both

Floyd- "PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME"

The instant you say that sweatshirt is from an ex he is taking off whatever shirt he is currently wearing and trying to tug off yours. Yes, even if it is his basketball jersey, and yes even if he just got back from practice. Isn't the scent supposed to be the point? He knows you miss him when he's gone, and he can get you something nicer out of his closet later. Just remember to tell everyone, even and especially if they don't ask, who gave it to you. Floyd's... nice? Enough? To not immediately burn your sweatshirt but it's up for debate if that's because he's actually being nice or if he just wants a trophy.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla x yuu #deuce spade x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader

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lostinlovingrevery · 1 month ago

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hi vannnnnn!!

first off how was your day!! i hope it’s been going well

secondly.. any worst!logan headcanons? particularly any filthy ones? (i’m feral 🫣)

a logan for you <3

HIIII CAS

My day HAS been going well, I finished my planter build (minus painting and actually planting it but!!) and I got the fattest, cheesiest pizza for dinner mmmmm

My grandma dropped off some v late christmas gifts and mine was a super cute new bag! A pocket heart charm AND a tiny lil vintage jewelry box with a REAL authentic two dollar bill in it. Pretty sure it belonged to my late grandfather :) <3

and that gif...mmm. yeah

Worst Wolvie headcanons? Don't mind if I do! (nsfw below!)

GENERAL:

I have this thing that he'll go into construction once he's settled in the new universe. It's easy to get a job with construction companies for the most part- and he's hella strong and looks it too, with a potty mouth and likes to drink- he'll fit right in!

SO polite and respectful to Althea. He'd be screaming at Wade one second, and the next be like "you need anything ma'am?" and get her a glass of water and everything else. No he does not support her cocaine habit.

PHEW I have a lot of trouble deciding how Logan would be after the events of D&P. I think he'd be struggling a lot still. He's such a hothead throughout most of the events of the movie, and I think that wouldn't stop being the case. I feel he'd probably simmer down a bit, but he would likely appear tense and awkward to some outsiders. He's not quite used to people being polite to him anymore.

when he meets you though, i think you'll capture his attention like no one else has

FLUFF (and a lil angst):

Oof, this is tricky too.

So I feel he'd be a bit rough around the edges when it comes to a relationship with you- at least in the beginning

He's not sure what to do. He has the capability of being soft, but he spent so long hardening his shell he's not sure how to be soft exactly.

His touches are intended to be gentle, but may feel rough as he tries to learn how to be with someone

His words are the same. I feel like sometimes his affection might come across sounding a lil angry

Once he gets comfortable though he'll be a complete lovebug

Initially put off by physical touch, he won't be able to get enough of it soon. Kisses, hugs, snuggles, booty smacks.

Hes a lil rough with the romance, but he'll try! Flowers brought home, remembers the little things about you- favorite snacks, drinks, etc.

As rough around the edges as he may be, he'll always be honest to you in how he feels. You may not initially feel like the man is heads over heels- but then after a cute and quiet date night he just looks at you all deadpan like "im so in love with you"

VERY protective. like over the top. Doesn't even like to see a man glance in your direction. Gets very nervous about you going out on your own too even if he hides it- he just doesn't want to lose you too :(

I feel in a way that he might be a little more settled down than his past self/variant. Kinda like Origins. More willing to get a nice house in the country, live a quiet peaceful life. He's been through a lot and somehow got you in the end. It's all he needs.

Not sure where to put this exactly, but I said in the past that I think he's a lot meaner than Old Man Logan- who I think is mean in a "i'm tired and sore and cranky" mean, while Worst Logan is mean in a "I don't fucking care about anything anymore " mean.

It comes out, when he's in a bad mood. He acts like he doesn't care but he does, things just hurt too much now and he's gotta shut it down

when it comes to being with you though, he begins to soften a bit more. You're able to listen and support him. His moods are never taken out on you

but you might get a sassy comment here and there

he genuinely loves you, wants things to work out. Will cut back greatly on the drinking.

won't think he deserves you, at all. will say that a lot.

everytime he looks at you it's the same lovesick face that origin logan has

I think im playing up how rough around the edges he is but I honestly think with you he'll still come off as a big sweetheart.

He'll still speak softly around you- even if you aren't together yet.

You'll catch him looking at you, an expression across his face you never seen him carry before. Something that looks like yearning

He'll melt in your arms. Hes like so much bigger than you but no one would realize by the way he just sinks into your embrace

i feel once you get to a certain point of your relationship, he'll be straight up worshipping you like the god/goddess you are

domestic life

cleaning the kitchen with him, late at night. Hes finishing up the dishes while you're wiping the counter down. You come up behind him, your hands untuck his shirt from his jeans, and your wrap your arms around him underneath the shirt, pressing kisses to his back before smushing your cheek against him and waiting for him to finish his dishes

he'll really wonder then, as he looks out into the window above the sink, over the city where your small apartment resides in- how did he get here?

will become a blushy mess when you do sweet things for him, like getting him flowers, or bringing him lunch at work, lil things like that

call him pretty. see what happens. ;)

SMUT:

Back to him being mean :)

BIG on control. He lost control of his life for years, so regaining it is def gonna show up in the bedroom

orgasm denial is a big thing with him

will mock you for begging and crying over it

sex can get really rough with him. He could be a complete sweetheart in the beginning, and the something snaps and he's choking you out with his cock, bruising the back of your throat as he pounds your mouth like a sextoy

Likes to pin you. In every way. likes seeing you squirm and struggle.

Likes to tie you up too

Smacking. Your ass and tits and cunt are going to be SORE.

Fucking into you rough and hard, you can't take it, your eyes rolling back- he smacks your face to get you back into reality. Not hard- more like a lovetap. "You with me bub?"

will give you a big wet kiss after

growling and grunting

very animal like this one

likes to spit in your mouth, feels like he's claiming you in a way

BITER!

You're gonna have bite marks!

The claws come out a lot with this one. All of them do it- but he just doesn't even try to control it, very conscious of where his hands are though

BIG on being praised

you praise him and hes gonna turn into a whimpering puppy

the switch up happens SO FAST

has probably immediately cum a few times the moments you praised him for being so good

if you want to have control for the night, just give him some praise and it's all yours

you can tie him up all you want, tease him, anything and everything long as you call him a good boy, and that you love him and he'll behave nicely as long as you keep going

he'll be a whining mess, thrusting into the air bc he needs you so bad to take care of him. he only ever needs you now.

like literally this man is two sides. fucking evil as hell in bed or the most subby whimpering man you'll ever know

dont worry, he does like praising you too

even if he's being a mean motherfucker he'll still be calling you gorgeous, talking about how good you are, how you're always going to be his

i feel like he can get pretty nasty too. Like remember the scent thing I talked about before? He'll straight up dig his nose in your armpit during sex just to get high off the pheromones and sweat coming off you.

pins your head down with his foot while fucking you (i...may have a request for this in the works....)

now i need to watch deadpool and wolverine....

#cruel-as-sin #van rambles #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut

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moonwoodhollow · 2 months ago

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Koffieboon, Nordhaven

build diary and thoughts under the cut!

I finally started working on the Koffieboon lot as my 2nd to last lot for Nordhaven's Old Town and while I love the layout of the lot with the three connected houses I felt like they all needed a bit more details for the facades first. I ended up changing the windows, as I wanted all 3 houses to have a bit of a different distinctive feeling. For the orange house, I ended up using the Businesses&Hobbies windows, for the green house, I used ones from Lovestruck EP + CC and for the rosy house, I used Life&Death windows.

If there's also one thing I cannot live without when decorating older houses it's corner stones, they add so much to a building and make it seem more complete, at least in my opinion. The ones I used there are by Felix (Estate Orjanic) and Pierisim (Maison de ..).

When I read about the family and their business (café Koffieboon) I felt that the building and the backstory were somewhat disconnected. Obviously, the Loden family could have (at some point) renovated the café, but somehow I felt that the café should have more of an older interior, so I'll probably change that. I do like the current interior, but it fits better to Ivarstad and a hip bookshop.

Now, the layout/ floorplan of the apartment above the café was terrible. I don't understand how there wasn't a hallway and that the front door immediately leads to the kitchen?! Also, the placement of the bathroom was really not it...

Continuing to the bedrooms, those were actually quite tricky. I didn't like how small the children's bedrooms were and that there was a hallway leading from the living room to the bedrooms. I'm not 100% happy with my solution, but I think it's still better than the original.

I love the small extra apartment that the grandmother has, but in reality, she'd probably need a flat on the ground floor, because that poor woman has to climb 2 sets of stairs just to reach her flat, that's unacceptable. Here, I added a balcony because I just love balconies, and they add a bit of detail.

That's it so far for this lot. I will change up the café interior next and if I ever upload this build I'll remove the kitchen on the 2nd floor, but yeah this got long, hope it was interesting to read some building thoughts!

#yup some thoughts during building - got a little long #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #*mine #simblr #ts4 simblr #ts4 screenshots #ts4 interior #sims 4 interior #sims 4 build #ts4 build #sims community #ts4 community #berries build diaries

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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year ago

Text

The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie - says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game. “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

#my writing #the hero and hope #second person #multi part fic #short story #kind of #the total piece is 20k words

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katiascraft · 7 months ago

Note

so i thought like reader being williams social media manager and she is also Francos ex girlfriend. And now Franco is coming into f1 and they see each other again? I don’t know if it makes sense hut yeah. Maybe you like the idea. Love your stuff💗

Hey sweetie 💌 ooooooh I love the idea! I love drama and second chances! Hope you like it. Thank you so much for your request! You are the first to do so. And so I wanted to let you know you made me so happy today :3 (sorry if it took a while but better late than ever! And I hope you have a wonderful day as well 🩵)

——————————————————————————————

“But we were something, don’t you think so? And if my wishes came true it would’ve been you” | FC43

Parings: Franco Colapinto x WilliamsRancingEmployee!Reader.

Summary: Franco and you broke up a while ago. You didn’t expect to see him ever again until he starts driving in F1 for Williams Racing Team.

Now playing: “The 1” by Taylor Swift.

Word count: +2,4k.

Warnings: a little angst? And fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: thank you anon for your request again! First time writing about Fran - maybe I could get used to this. Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

You were trying to not lose your umbrella because of the wind. It was raining pretty heavily. England was never a city where happy spirits lived. The sky it’s pretty much sad and depressed most days of the year. But you loved it. You loved feeling melancholy. Remembering your past with a smile or tears.

You had something of not overcoming the past pretty fast. It’s really hard for you to let go and deal with deadlines.

You got finally to the bus stop where a ceiling was now protecting you a little from the water. You were heading for the Williams Racing factory where you’ve worked for a few years now. You were the social media manager at Williams. And you had a meeting with the marketing department.

These last few months were really hard on you. And the reason was just one single person. And that was Franco.

You and Franco dated for two years back when he got in F4. You were teenagers. But still he was the guy who made you feel all the butterflies for the first time. The relationship didn’t end pretty well. You didn’t wanna end it but he told you that he had already made his decision. He needed to be focused to be able to jump to F1 and your romance to him was a distraction. That hurt you so much. And it still hurts thinking about it.

You heart stoped for a second when you saw a guy walking towards your same bus stop - you thought it was Franco because he takes the bus to work just like he always did since you two met. But it wasn’t. Though the guy from afar looked a lot like him. You calmed yourself down.

You job got pretty tricky since Franco jumped finally into F1. You were so happy for him. You wanted to talk to him and tell him how proud of him you were but you couldn’t. You were supposed to hate each other. Working with him was a challenge. You just decided to pretend you didn’t even know who he was and treat him as you treated Alex or Logan before. Even though your heart raced so fast by just looking at him, talk to other people.

First time you saw him was back in august when James announced a new driver was chosen to replace Logan. You loved Logan. Such a great guy. But you understood this was also a business and money is top priority. And Williams isn’t a team with many economic resources so each penny counted. James did an introduction to him a day before the race. He said hi to everyone. When you two saw each other just shook hands. You couldn’t even look at him. When you were back home you had a breakdown and needed to call your therapist because you don’t know how the fuck you were be able to deal him every single day. And even post about him most of the time because for your unlucky luck people became obsessed with him. Everybody loved Franco. And you understood why: he was the most charming and handsome boy you have ever met. And he didn’t change a bit after one year of not seeing him - you thought - forever.

Finally you took the bus. You were gonna be late so you texted your co-worker Amanda to let her know it. You sat on the only free seat that there was.

You were preoccupied in revising everything you had to stay and show in your meeting you didn’t realize the guy sitting next to you was actually franco.

After an awkward silence Franco broke the ice ��hey… buenos días” he said with a raspy voice. He was nervous. Not sure if you were okay if he even opened his mouth.

You felt colder than the weather when you heard him. You looked at him to check you weren’t dreaming and indeed you weren’t. You give him a little smile. “Oh hi fran” that’s how you used to call him. Your heart sank a bit. “Good morning. Sorry I didn’t see you. I have a reunion and didn’t want to forget anything. You have a workout today?” You just decided to talk to him. A little chat wouldn’t kill you. And you hated pretending you didn’t know him. He smelled just the same. The same perfume. He had his mate bag with him and a boca juniors gym bag. Just as how you remembered him. You licked your lips nervously.

He nodded shyly and you saw his cheeks turning red for some reason. “Yeah I have gym today. And everything’s gonna be fine at the meeting. You always explain yourself perfectly” he said, sending you a sweet smile. His voice was deep and raspy. You knew he was still a little sleepy knowing it was almost 8am. You smiled back at him.

“Thank you” you said sweetly. Another weird silence took place between you two. You didn’t know what to say. You just looked around.

“Are you still mad at me y/n?” He said out of nowhere. The words just jumped out of his mouth. He was still hunted by what happened between you two. You looked at him again, giving him a sad look. You denied it with your head.

“No I'm not… I’m just sad. We were something right? But you know. It was hard to let you go but yeah…” you hesitated in what you could tell him. You didn’t even know what you were feeling right now. He stared at you a few seconds and nodded looking down. He started playing with his fingers.

“Maybe we could talk about all of this when you finish your meeting? I really think we should talk. I… I don’t like when you pretend you don’t know me… like we never knew each other you know? I feel really guilty about it. And… I’m proud of where you are now. It was your dream and you made it. And you’re really good at it. You give fans what they need” he said shyly and sad? He was working hard to show he can be an F1 driver. That he deserves a seat. But also he was really sad because he since decided to end things with you. He already regretted it.

Yes, he was more focused but he didn’t have your support. He isn’t into physical touch but your hugs were his favorites. He would let you touch him forever. He felt empty and really lonely. Even his family had to deal with the grief of not having you around anymore.

Yes, it was worth it for a while when he had James tell him he was gonna drive an F1 car for the end of the season. But when he saw you standing there. More beautiful than he has ever seen you. You looked so happy and profesional. So beautiful. And bright. He hated himself right there. Because you'd have done it together if he wouldn’t have been so selfish. He didn’t think he was in love with you when you broke up. But as the time passed he felt miserable. Getting home and seeing no one. No music. No you playing sims and showing him the sims you created while he was gone. No cooking cookies for tea time or ‘merienda’ how it is called in Argentina. Anyone to share mates with or talk about the day. No one to cuddle on the sofa or to forget about everything in bed. No one to go out and eat dinner. Or day trips to London. There was nothing left.

He was an asshole to you. And he really hated himself for that.

You couldn’t keep on talking because the bus was really where you needed to be. You both got down the bus in silence. And just walked side by side into the Williams factory announcing yourselves at the gate.

You were thinking about his offer. Like you needed it but at the same time you were scared. But you decided to follow your heart.

“See you after the meeting then?” You said when he opened the door of the factory for you. His sad look turned into a very smiley one. He nodded.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll be waiting for you at the cafeteria. Is that okay?” He said walking behind you because you were running late for the meeting. You turned to him a little.

“Sounds good to me Fran. See you in a bit” you said in a smile but feeling really weird at the same time. You didn’t know if that chat was gonna be the end of you or the relief you just needed. You didn’t know. But you knew you couldn’t keep going the way you two were.

You disappeared from Franco's view while you ran up the stairs to the office where the meeting was being held. He just stared there for a few seconds wondering. He didn’t know if talking was the best move but he felt better after you said yes. And he realized how bad he missed hearing you call him Fran. He got into the gym. Everyone was already there so he didn’t have time to keep thinking about you. Now it was time for a great workout. And a pretty intense one.

(…)

You got out of the office 2 hours later. It was intense. You had a headache now and you needed some coffee. You were regretting deciding to meet Franco but it is what it is. Maybe could it be relaxing? You didn’t believe yourself. But you were sure you just had to give him another chance and maybe be friends.

You walked down the stairs and headed to the cafeteria. When you got there you could see Franco sitting alone at one of the tables. There wasn’t anyone. It was just you and Franco and the women at the kitchen. You smiled. You were a little bit more relaxed knowing it was kind of private. First you headed into the kitchen and asked for a coffee. You knew Franco didn’t want one because you saw him drinking mate. The woman handed the coffee politely to you and you thanked her with a sweet smile “have a good rest of the day Amelia” you told her sweetly grabbing your coffee and now walking towards franco.

He saw you and gave you a bright smile. “Hey” he said, moving his stuff so you could sit with him at the table and have space for your coffee and things. He was reading some papers that were given to him by one of the engineers back in the simulator.

You smiled looking at him. He had showered and smelled incredibly good. And he looked so gorgeous by the sunlight that was coming in from the window. “Hey did I make you wait too long?” You said sitting down and getting comfy.

“No no I got here like 30 minutes ago” he said softly and sweetly. You looked so beautiful in your formal outfit. Though he remembered being crazy about you when you wore pajamas. You looked so cute. He missed you. Like crazy.

“Oh okay. Thank you for waiting for me” you thanked him and took a sip of your coffee. And he did the same with his mate.

“So… how are you? How’s your life been?” You said to start talking and leave the uncomfortness of the situation behind and just chill out and be okay with this. Or at least you wished that but you were a bit anxious of this conversation taking place.

“Well… to be fair it just depends on which aspect of my life you ask. In my driving life everything’s been great. Better than I could ever have expected. In my personal life to be honest I’ve been miserable” he said, giggling a little at the last part of his answer. You smiled sadly looking at him.

“Well maybe we aren’t so different. I’ve been miserable too personally. And at work gray. Better than ever. But you know a guy I used to date decided to fuck my life up by just being selfish so yeah - life’s shit” you really didn’t want to go there so fast but you just couldn’t control yourself. You’re still hurt. And you needed to be vocal about it. You deserve it. You could see he got nervous and readjusted himself on his chair.

“Oh yeah I think I remember him. He was an asshole to you. Then he felt empty and guilty and lonely and got depressed. But you know he deserved it for being such an idiot. I wouldn’t have let you go if I were him. You are in fact an incredible woman with the worst sense of humor I’ve ever met. And by worst I mean best.” He said talking in third person funny. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You looked at him nodding.

“Yeah he was a selfish asshole but we can also agree maybe that he looks gorgeous now. If he has another girl then I would be really jealous. He is really a sweetheart. And a professional clown. Very funny. He should do stand up” you followed his way of navigating all of this mess you two created. He laughed and your heart melted. You loved making him laugh. Your heart started racing and butterflies reappeared in your stomach. You felt dumb.

“Oh no he is pretty ugly in my opinion. You were too much for him but like positively. You are fucking sexy and he is just a dude” he said raising his shoulders quirky and funny. You got so flustered.

“Well maybe you're right. I’m not gonna deny I’m on top level” you said joking giggling. He smiled wildly. There you were again. The you he was madly in love with. And the he was. The guy who made you laugh until you cried. The one who made you so happy.

It would’ve been fun if he would’ve been the one. Or maybe does he still have a chance?

“Look y/n I’m really sorry. I really am. I know that saying sorry doesn’t fix anything but I would really love it if we could be friendly and try to figure this out on good terms?” He said more seriously and you nodded agreeing.

“Yeah we can try. Everyone deserves a second chance right?”you told him. You had mixed feelings about it but you knew that maybe this was the best you could do. Try to make things easier between you two will also be beneficial for your work.

“Alright” he said with the biggest smile you saw him having since you saw him again. “You want some?” He asked, offering you mate and you just nodded, smiling at him and agreeing.

Just like the old days.

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Hope you liked it 💌 if you have anymore ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

#franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto #franco needs a seat asap #franco colapinto x femreader #williams f1 #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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