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eu-nicola · 1 month ago

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sand

summary: Rafe got a new haircut and that catches your attention

warnings: nothing just tension

word counter: 2526

author's note: english is not my first language, part 2 is on my masterlist

The beach sparkled under the moonlight, the sand vibrating with music that seemed to envelop everyone in a carefree trance. The atmosphere was peculiarly relaxed for what used to be a mix of Kooks and Pogues. The lines usually marked by hostility and differences seemed to blur that night, at least on the surface.

Bonfires were scattered along the beach, illuminating familiar and not-so-familiar faces. You were there, as always, in the center of things, not because you wanted to draw attention to yourself, but because your energy magnetized those around you. With a bottle of beer in hand, you moved to the beat of the music, your bare feet sinking slightly into the cold sand as you laughed and joked with your friends.

The Kooks weren't far away, with their haughty laughter and conversations. Normally, you either ignored them or provoked them, depending on your mood. You were known for your explosive character, especially when you were around them. And if there was someone who brought out the worst in you, it was Rafe Cameron.

There was something about him that had always irritated you. Maybe it was his air of superiority, or how he seemed to always be looking for an excuse to belittle you or yours. You were no slouch either; if there was an opportunity to throw him a snide comment or a challenging look, you didn't let it pass you by.

But that night, something was different.

As you moved through the group, your eyes caught him in the distance, next to his friends. For a second, you didn't even realize it was him. Something had changed in his appearance. His normally disheveled hair had almost completely disappeared. He now sported a buzz cut that highlighted his cheekbones and jaw, making his blue eyes look even more intense under the glow of the fire.

You forced yourself to look away, but not without feeling that strange, uncomfortable heat spreading from your chest to your stomach. What the hell was happening to you? There was no way you could be reacting that way to something as trivial as a haircut. You shook your head, trying to dispel the thought.

“Everything okay?” Kiara asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed you another beer.

“Perfectly,” you replied, taking a long drink. You weren’t ready to admit what had just happened, not even to yourself.

Your eyes seemed to have a life of their own though, because despite your efforts, they kept searching for Rafe in the crowd. You saw him laugh at something Topper had said, his usual cocky grin. For some reason, it didn’t seem as irritating this time.

On an impulsive move, you decided to walk over to the nearest bonfire, where the Kooks were gathered. You weren’t going to talk to them directly, of course, but you wanted to prove to yourself that it didn’t affect you. You continued dancing, feeling the music run through your body, ignoring the curious glances of the others.

“Wow, John B’s younger sister mixing it up with the big boys? What a novelty.” The voice was unmistakable, loaded with sarcasm and defiance. You turned slowly, meeting Rafe’s eyes. He was sitting on one of the beach chairs, a bottle in his hand and that damn smirk on his lips.

“And you? Did they let you out of your golden throne for a night?” you answered without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow.

His friends let out a few stifled laughs, but he didn’t seem fazed. Instead, he stood up, taking a couple steps closer to you. The fire illuminated the contours of his face, making him look almost unreal.

“Like what you see?” he asked, pointing to his head with a nonchalant gesture.

Your mouth dropped open slightly, but you quickly regained your composure. “You look less like an asshole. That’s all.”

He laughed, a low, gravelly laugh that made your nerves tense. “Always with something nice to say, right?”

“Someone has to. Don’t expect your friends to tell you the truth.”

The exchange was quick, sharp as always, but this time there was something different in the air. There was tension, yes, but it wasn’t the usual hostility. There was something else, something you couldn’t or didn’t want to name.

You walked away from him, heading back to your friends, but you could feel his gaze fixed on your back. Trying to ignore it was futile. Every time you turned around, he was there, watching you with an intensity that made your heart pound.

That night, under the lights of the fire and the beat of the music, something had changed between you. You didn’t know what it was, or if you were ready to face it. But one thing was certain: Rafe Cameron had found a way to occupy your thoughts.

And with each drink you took, you felt the warmth of the alcohol begin to soften the edges of your usual bad mood, replacing it with a strange lightness. The salty air, the music, and the laughter around you seemed to envelop everything in an unreal bubble, as if the entire world was moving in slow motion. You tried to focus on your friends, on the conversation, on anything but those blue eyes you could still feel on you, even from across the bonfire.

Rafe Cameron. Damn. What was it about him tonight that you couldn't get him out of your mind? You tried to remember all the times he'd gotten on your nerves, all the arguments and taunts you'd exchanged, but even those memories seemed to lose their edge under the firelight and the effect of the alcohol.

You drank some more, the cold beer soothing the heat you felt on your skin, but not in your chest. Somehow, your mind kept coming back to him. To that damn haircut, to how his new look seemed to highlight how dangerous he’d always been, though this time in a way you hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re so quiet.” It was JJ who spoke, giving you a slight nudge with his shoulder. You looked up at him, trying not to give anything away.

“Just enjoying the moment,” you lied, raising your bottle to give him a carefree smile.

Kiara chimed in, laughing. “That’s unlike you.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m relaxing for once.”

But it wasn’t relaxation you felt. It was tension, a tension that grew with each passing second. Your eyes, as if they had a will of their own, found him again. He was sitting, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, listening to Topper speak. The firelight played with the lines of his face, making his cheekbones and jawline look even more pronounced.

And then, as if he sensed your gaze, his eyes met yours.

It was a direct hit, like the air had been ripped from your lungs. His expression didn't change, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like he was challenging you, inviting you to something you couldn't quite figure out. A dangerous spark that ignited inside you.

You quickly looked away, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't blame the alcohol alone for it.

You kept drinking, trying to drown out that feeling, but it was useless. The music surrounded you, vibrating in your ears, mixing with the sound of the waves and distant laughter. Your feet began to move to the beat without you thinking about it, and soon you were dancing again, lost in the moment.

The movement helped you clear your mind, at least for a little while. You turned, raising your hands, letting the music guide you. But you couldn’t help it: you wanted him to be looking at you. You wanted to feel his gaze on you like you had before.

Was it the alcohol? Was it the music? Or was it something that had always been there, buried under layers of pride and enmity? You didn’t know, and at the moment you didn’t care.

As you danced, your eyes met his again. This time, you didn’t look away. There was something in his expression that seemed to tell you that he was noticing something different tonight, too. His gaze was intense, calculating, as if he was analyzing every move you made.

You felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with fire or alcohol. It was pure electricity, a spark that ran through you from head to toe. And, for the first time, you didn’t try to fight it.

Without thinking, you walked to the water's edge, letting the waves wash over your feet. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heat you felt. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, trying to clear your mind. But when you opened them, there he was, standing just a few feet away.

Rafe didn't say anything at first. He simply watched you, his figure dimly illuminated by the moon. He looked calm, but his eyes told another story.

“Running away from something?” he finally asked, his voice low and teasing, though there was something else in his tone. Something that made your fingers clench into fists.

“From you, probably,” you answered quickly, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the confidence you were trying to project.

He laughed, moving a little closer. “From me? You don’t seem to be doing a very good job.”

There was something about the way he said it, something that made your heart race even faster. Why couldn’t you just hate him like always? Why did tonight, of all nights, feel like the air around you grew thicker every time he was around?

You didn’t answer. Instead, you looked at him, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would be the one to break the silence that had settled between you.

The tension that hung between you was almost tangible, as if the salty air of the beach had transformed into something thicker, more electric.

Rafe looked at you as if he was seeing something for the first time, something he didn’t expect to find there, right in front of him. His expression had lost the usual mockery, and in its place was something else: a hunger, a need that lit the fire inside you even more.

He took a step closer to you, his boots sinking into the wet sand. He was so close now that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne mixed with the salt in the air. You didn’t know what to say or what to do. For the first time in a long time, you felt disarmed.

“Don’t keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low and laden with something you couldn’t quite place.

“How so?” you asked, though you barely recognized your own voice, a broken whisper that didn’t sound like you.

“As if you wanted something from me.”

Your lips parted, ready to blurt out some sarcastic retort, something to regain the control that seemed to have abandoned you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment his words faded into the air, Rafe closed the distance between you and kissed you.

The first contact was almost a shock, a sudden explosion you weren’t expecting. His hands found your face, his fingers gently pressing against your cheeks as his lips captured yours with a desperation that made you lose your balance. You felt the heat of his body against yours, the force behind his kiss making it clear that this wasn’t something planned or thought out. It was pure instinct.

For an instant, your mind screamed for you to pull away, that this was wrong, that this was Rafe Cameron. But your body had other ideas. Your hands moved almost of their own volition, clinging to his shirt as you kissed him back with equal intensity. Every movement, every brush, seemed to tell him that you needed him too, even though you hated to admit it.

The sand beneath your feet seemed to move with you as you let yourself go. His breath was heavy against your lips, as if he was trying to absorb every part of you in that moment.

Rafe moved away just a few millimeters, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. His hands hadn’t left your face, and his thumbs were tracing soft circles on your skin.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me with you tonight,” he murmured, his voice deep and breathy, as if he himself couldn’t understand what he had just done.

“Shut up,” you whispered before pulling his shirt down and kissing him again, this time being the one to take the initiative. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it might explode, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was him, his lips moving against yours, his hands moving down your arms until they held your waist firmly.

He pushed you back slightly until you felt the cold water splashing against your feet. The contrast between the heat he caused you and the cold of the waves was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

His hands ran over your waist, holding on as if he was afraid you would fade away. You held on tight too, as if letting go of him this whole moment might crumble. Every kiss, every movement, was charged with an intensity you had never felt before. It was as if all the hatred, all the tension that had existed between you for years, had transformed into something completely different, something that terrified and fascinated you at the same time.

Finally, you pulled away, just enough to look into his eyes. His face was illuminated by the moonlight, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and his blue eyes looked at you as if they wanted to burn you into their memory.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said, though your voice shook a little.

Rafe let out a soft laugh, a low, almost mocking sound, but not in the way he usually did. “Of course not,” he replied, though you both knew it was a lie.

It took you a second to pull away completely, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. But before you could move, he grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you.

“This doesn’t end here,” he said, his tone serious, almost like a promise.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t say anything. You simply pulled your hand away, freeing yourself from his grip, and began walking back toward the bonfire, not daring to look back. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you were afraid that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave.

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 3 months ago

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Hidden relationship

Hii guyss, I hope you love this as much as I've loved writing it :) Here's my masterlist if you want to read more stories of mine.

As you walk through the paddock towards your garage, a jolt of shock runs through you as a hand suddenly pulls you between two motorhomes. But the initial surprise fades into happiness the moment your boyfriend’s familiar eyes lock onto yours.

"Franco, this is a very bad idea," you whisper, though you instinctively step closer to him. "You know we can't be seen together."

He flashes you a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with playful intent. "Pero te extrañaba, mi amor," he murmurs, his voice soft yet teasing as he pulls you against him. "An hour without seeing you is too long." (But I've missed you, my love).

"You saw me at the hotel this morning," you counter, trying to stay serious, but your smile betrays you.

"Eso fue hace una eternidad," Franco leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. "Cada segundo sin ti es un castigo." (That was an eternity ago) (Every second without you is a punishment)

Before you can respond, his lips find yours, and the world around you disappears. His kiss is filled with a yearning that makes your heart race, and for a moment, the risk of being caught vanishes. His hand cups your face gently, the heat between you two impossible to ignore.

You’re a driver for Haas, and he’s… well, Franco. A relationship between the two of you is complicated, secretive, hidden from the paddock’s prying eyes. No one can know, which is why these stolen moments mean everything.

When the kiss ends, you stay close for a moment, foreheads touching, your breathing still a bit heavy. "We really can’t keep doing this," you say, although there’s no conviction in your words.

Franco smirks, his hand lingering on your waist. "Nos vemos luego, mi amor," he whispers, giving you a quick wink before you reluctantly pull away and head back towards your motorhome. He watches you walk away, already missing the closeness. (I'll see you later, my love)

The race flies by in a blur of speed and adrenaline, but when it’s over, the real challenge begins—the media panel. You sit beside each other, the tension between you now masked by professional smiles. Reporters fire questions about the race, and you answer coolly, focused and calm, until someone turns to Franco.

"So, Franco, what are your plans during the break?" The question is innocent, but his response is anything but.

Franco’s eyes flicker in your direction for just a moment, his grin devilish as he leans back in his chair. "Well, I don’t plan to leave the bed much," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "Tengo planes más interesantes…" (I have more interesting plans…)

Your heart skips a beat as you feel his gaze burning into you, the meaning behind his words clear. You force yourself to keep a neutral expression, though you can feel the blush creeping up your neck.

The reporters laugh, not fully aware of the hidden meaning, but you know exactly what Franco’s thinking—and it makes your stomach flutter in a way only he can.

Back at the hotel, you slip out of your team's merch and into something more comfortable, the adrenaline from the race still coursing through your veins. The door clicks open, and you know without looking who it is.

Franco steps in, a satisfied smirk on his face as he walks toward you. "You know, you really should watch your mouth with the media," you tease, leaning back against the bed, crossing your arms. "You almost gave us away."

He grins, his dark eyes full of mischief as he steps closer, his presence radiating confidence. "I couldn’t help it, amor. You make it hard to focus on anything else." He leans in, his lips barely an inch from yours. "Besides, I was telling the truth. I don’t plan on leaving the bed much."

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile forming on your lips. "Maybe, but you should at least try to be a little less obvious." Your words are playful, not serious, because deep down, you love how bold he can be.

Franco cups your face in his hands, his touch gentle but with a hunger that makes your heart race. "¿Estás segura? Porque me parece que te gusta cuando lo hago," he whispers, his lips brushing against yours, teasing you. (¿Are you sure? Because I feel that you like it when I act that way)

The tension between you snaps as you pull him into a kiss, the passion and need igniting instantly. His arms wrap around your waist, drawing you closer until there’s no space left between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, each kiss deeper and more fervent than the last. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you lose yourself in the moment, the world outside the room completely forgotten.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. His thumb gently strokes your cheek, his eyes soft as they lock onto yours. "I need you," he murmurs, his voice quieter now, filled with a kind of tenderness that makes your chest tighten.

You give him a soft smile, running your hand down his chest. "Well then, maybe we should start your break plan now," you suggest, your tone teasing but filled with unspoken promise.

Franco raises an eyebrow, clearly liking where this is going. "¿Ahora?" His voice drops an octave, the warmth in his gaze turning molten. (¿Now?)

"Sí," you whisper, tugging him back down to you, the words heavy with meaning. "We’ve got the whole night…"

Without wasting another second, his lips crash against yours once more, the kiss deeper, more urgent, filled with every bit of longing you’ve been keeping hidden for so long. The passion consumes you both, and the rest of the world fades away. You’re together now, with no barriers, no secrets, and for this moment, nothing else matters.

And as you fall into each other, the unspoken truth lingers in the air: this is where you belong, in his arms, in this space you’ve created just for the two of you.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto

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sixosix · 1 year ago

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STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed.

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n

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vitaminkyeom · 17 days ago

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but it's golden... || k.mg

“GOLDEN LIKE THE FEELING YOU GOT WHEN YOU SAW HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME"

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff

SUMMARY || When Seungcheol forced you to go for a double date which he set up, you were very skeptical about it. Nonetheless you agreed, ready to see where this takes you. And maybe, maybe he wasn't going to let you down.

Or, in which, love was golden.

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 0.8k

A/N || HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE. Also a fic after a long time. Based on your guy's votes gyu won so here's a gyu fic. Its not so well written BUT hey its something right?

TAGLIST || @hanicore @alyssng @amethyistheart @weebotakuboy @aaniag @sea-moon-star @k-drama-adict @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @stervahaha @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @wonusaurus @nonononranghaee @hoichi02 @dinossaurz @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @hoeforcheol @kawennote09 @iamawkwardandshy @cheolsboo @gyuguys @barilnisanzu @reiofsuns2001 @miyx-amour @leahhhher @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @mnstxmnbb @wonvsmile @mansaaay @cookiearmy @having-a-time [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

You watched as the sun dipped further into the horizon, the sea water turning golden as it sparkled still so brightly. Sighing into your coffee, you glanced at the watch again, wondering if you had been stood up on this date.

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted Seungcheol when he had said he would set you up on a blind date with a ‘literally marriage potential friend’. If there was anything you hated the most, it was blind dates because what do you mean you’re supposed to pretend that you’re enjoying a cafe date with a total stranger?

Then there was your view of love. Love was meant to be a slow burn between people you already knew, not people you happened to get to know through Tinder. Or worse, blind dates.

And it definitely wouldn’t be happening if said blind date was 45 minutes late.

Kim Mingyu, as Seungcheol had said, was in the same year as you though you hadn’t shared any classes with him yet. He was tall, athletic, handsome, nice and smart (allegedly) but you were skeptical about it because how was such a guy single? And desperate enough to agree to a blind date?

Maybe he snored when he slept. Maybe he didn’t brush his mouth in the mornings. Or maybe, he actually didn’t have any of the qualities Seungcheol bragged about.

Just as you were about to get up to pay for your coffee, you heard the bell over the door of the cafe ring, causing you to instinctively turn around to see who it was as though hoping it would be Mingyu.

So much for being not desperate.

A man of your age stumbled into the cafe, a bouquet in his hands as he frantically searched the room. And then his eyes met yours and you felt the breath in your chest get knocked out.

You stared at him, mouth opening at a gasp as you took in his features.

Seungcheol had been wrong about him.

He wasn’t just handsome. He was gorgeous, beautiful, striking, stunning and every other synonym that existed in your mind but you were unable to think of anymore because you mind was completely blank. It was like he had swiped your mind clean with just his presence.

Everyone and everything around him blurred away, and you could only see him. Only him.

Mingyu smiled at you softly, and you felt your heart stutter. How could someone look like this?

Slowly, he walked up to your table, toothy grin still on display as you harshly sucked in a breath to shut your mouth. You were not going to be caught staring agape at a man you had just met.

As soon as he came near your table, his perfume hit you, throwing away your senses even more. All you could do was give him a weak smile as he sat on the table opposite to you.

“Y/N?” He asked, still smiling softly at you as the golden hour threw a shade of golden on his tanned skin, making him practically glow. He was a god. He had to be. There was no other explanation for this etherealness.

“Uh, uh, yeah, that’s me! I mean,” you cleared your throat once. When did you become this nervous? “Yeah, I am Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned wider, before offering you the bouquet of english roses. “These are for you.”

You looked at them in surprise as you took it from his hand, noticing the flowers for the first time. “How did you know I liked english roses?”

“I asked Seungcheol.” He answered simply. “I'm so sorry I was late. There was too much traffic.”

You found yourself rolling your eyes at him. “Well honestly then you should have started before.”

“I know I'm terribly sorry. Pretty girls like you shouldn't have to wait for anyone.”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to wriggle his way out if hid tardiness by complimenting you, but it was working. You felt your cheeks flush at his comment and you hastily took a sip of your coffee to cover it up.

“Would you like some churros?”

You stared at him. Kim Mingyu had come prepared.

“Sure, I would love to. But let's order something you like too!”

“Don't worry. I like churros too.” He winked at you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Just what effect did this man have on you?

You always thought love was a fixed story, a fate already written so you never beat yourself up about it. To you, it was a black and white story.

But now looking at Kim Mingyu who was busy giving the waiter your orders, you felt your heart soften.

He was so ethereal. And so sweet.

And right then it struck you. Love was golden.

Golden like him. Golden like your surroundings as the last rays of the sun bathed it in the beautiful colour. Golden like the feeling you got when you saw him for the first time.

Mingyu turned to you. “Anything else?”

“No.” You smiled at him. “Just your presence.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#svthub #but its golden.#mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #mingyu fluf #kim mingyu fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff

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luvzshy · 2 months ago

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hi i’ve had this idea for a while but could you write something about billie and actress reader being very close friends for years, but then reader invites Billie to stay at her place for a week since it's been a while since they last saw each other, and after a few days reader confess her feelings to billie while watching a movie on her couch, but make it very hoooooot and very smutty pretty please

add a lot of tension before the confession part and how reader and billie are already veryyy touchy as friends!!

also i think current/brunette billie would be perfect for that!!

The Confession

Summary: After years of friendship, the lines between Billie Eilish and her actress best friend blur when they reunite for a week at the reader’s place. As the tension builds and the chemistry ignites, they find themselves navigating uncharted territory of desire, leading to a passionate confession that changes everything.

Word Count: Approximately 1,189 words

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, explicit language, friends-to-lovers, light descriptions of intimacy

The years you spent with Billie were a whirlwind of laughter, support, and the kind of deep conversations that only the closest of friends could share. But somewhere along the way, the innocent touches and playful banter shifted into something undeniably charged, a tension simmering just beneath the surface.

When you invited Billie over to your place for a week, you had no idea how this would change everything. She arrived with that signature smile that made your heart race, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing an oversized hoodie that did nothing to hide her curves.

“Missed you,” you said, pulling her into a hug, letting the warmth of her body linger against yours a moment too long. You could smell her perfume—sweet, intoxicating, and it made your head spin.

“Missed you too,” she replied, her voice soft as she pulled back, those green eyes sparkling with mischief.

As the days rolled on, the two of you fell back into your comfortable routine. You spent evenings sprawled on the couch, watching movies, but your attention was always on each other. Each time her thigh brushed against yours or her fingers lightly grazed your skin, your heart would race, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

One night, as you settled in for a particularly cheesy romantic film, the couch was too small for the space you both filled with pent-up energy. You settled in close, her arm draping over your shoulders as you sank into her warmth.

“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” she teased, nudging you playfully.

“Of course I am,” you replied, though you could hardly focus. The proximity of her body, the way her thumb absentmindedly rubbed circles on your arm, was far too distracting. “It’s riveting.”

Billie chuckled, but her gaze was serious as it flicked to your lips. “I think you’re lying.” The playful smile lingered, but her eyes were intense, full of something unspoken.

“Maybe I am,” you confessed, heart racing as your breaths quickened, and the playful banter began to dissolve into something deeper.

“Why do I feel like there’s more going on in that pretty head of yours?” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips were mere inches from yours.

“Because there is,” you said, voice trembling slightly. “Billie, I can’t keep pretending that this is just friendship. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think it’s more than just that.”

Billie’s breath hitched, and you could see her processing your words. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening the air around you both. “You’re serious?” she asked, almost in disbelief.

“Completely.”

You leaned in, the distance between you vanishing as your lips met in a soft kiss that quickly ignited into something more. Billie tasted sweet, like the candy you’d shared earlier, and you melted against her as the kiss deepened. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as her body pressed against yours.

As you kissed, you felt the world around you disappear, leaving just the two of you. Your hands roamed over her body, feeling the warmth of her curves beneath the fabric of her hoodie. You tugged at it, wanting to feel more of her skin beneath your fingers.

Billie pulled back for a breath, eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

“More than anything,” you breathed, leaning in to kiss her again.

With a swift movement, Billie shifted, pushing you gently back against the couch, her body hovering over you. The kiss grew more frantic, hungry, as she explored your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless. You could feel her warmth radiating against you, the undeniable heat of the moment consuming you both.

“Let me,” she murmured against your lips, her voice dripping with desire, before trailing kisses down your neck, sending electric shocks through your body. You gasped, arching into her touch as she kissed along your collarbone, her hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

“God, Billie…” you moaned, heart racing as her fingers brushed over your skin. Every touch was igniting fire within you, the need building to an almost unbearable level.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she confessed, her voice low and rough. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

Her hands explored your body, fingers tracing along the curves of your waist, pulling you closer as she pressed her body against you, her hips rolling against yours, causing heat to pool in your stomach.

“Billie,” you gasped, feeling overwhelmed with desire. You tugged at her hoodie, wanting to peel it off and reveal the skin beneath.

She hesitated, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Are you sure?” she asked, searching for any signs of doubt.

You nodded, your breath shaky but resolute. “I want you, Billie. Please.”

With a breathless smile, Billie leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that sent sparks flying through your body. She quickly shed her hoodie, exposing a simple black bralette that hugged her curves perfectly. Your hands instinctively roamed over her skin, fingers tracing the edges, marveling at how soft she felt beneath your touch.

You pulled her closer, your hands roaming down her back as your lips never left hers. Billie moaned softly into the kiss, and the sound ignited something primal within you. You rolled your hips against hers, and she gasped, a delicious sound that spurred you on.

“More,” she whispered, breaking the kiss to breathe in deeply, her eyes dark and filled with longing.

You nodded, letting instinct guide you as you pushed her back gently until she was lying flat on the couch, your body hovering over hers. The heat between you was intoxicating, the tension that had built up over the years now manifesting in a whirlwind of passion.

Your lips met again, deeper this time, the kiss filled with urgency and need. You moved your hands to explore her body, caressing her curves, savoring every inch of skin you could reach. As you kissed, you could feel her hands moving down your sides, fingers tugging at your shirt, urging you to let her explore as well.

With a swift motion, she pulled you down against her, her hands sliding under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, causing you to shiver in delight. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you lost in each other.

“Let me show you how much I want you,” she murmured, her voice husky with desire, and you could only nod, lost in the moment.

Billie flipped you over, capturing your lips again as she straddled you, her body pressing down against yours. The heat radiating from her was intoxicating, and you could feel every curve against you, igniting a fire within that demanded to be fed.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her breath hot against your ear as she pressed her body closer.

“More than ever,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, desire burning through you like wildfire.

With a sultry smile, Billie began to move against you, her hips rolling in a rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You gasped, feeling her warmth enveloping you, the intensity of your shared passion building to an almost unbearable level.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, hands gripping her waist, urging her on.

Billie’s movements grew more urgent, her breath coming in soft gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Every roll of her hips sent waves of pleasure radiating through you, and you could feel the tension building, the promise of something exquisite just within reach.

“God, you feel so good,” she breathed, her fingers gripping your shoulders, nails digging in slightly as she moved faster, the urgency between you escalating.

You pulled her down for another kiss, feeling the heat rise as your bodies melded together, perfectly in sync. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in this moment of pure ecstasy.

As the fire between you ignited, you knew that this night would change everything. This was no longer just friendship—it was something deeper, a connection that would redefine everything you had shared. You surrendered to the passion, the heat, and the undeniable truth of your feelings for Billie, knowing that there was no going back now.

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish imagine #wlw blog #billie eilish smut #wlw smut #wlw post #sapphic #lesbian

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won4kiss · 6 months ago

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⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE.

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. husband! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. you and sunghoon swore to be faithful to each other, unfortunately sunghoon couldn’t keep that promise. genre. angst ,, wc. 2012. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ guys…how r we liking the layout 🤭.. 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂. | part 2

if you enjoyed reading ,, pls like and reblog !! ‹𝟹 it helps out a lot ¡!

the past year had been a painful rollercoaster of emotions, each high point you’ve had has been followed by a devastating low. you remembered the countless amount of nights you waited for sunghoon, watching the clock tick away the hours as he stayed out late, you had gotten so used to the sound.

the scent of his cologne lingering on his clothes when he finally came home, the way his tie was undone, the way he avoided your gaze when you asked where he'd been. your accusations of him being unfaithful were met with immediate denials, his words cutting deep even as he tried to reassure you that you were his one and only love.

"i would never cheat on you, y/n" he'd say, pulling you into his arms.

"you're my everything." he would say with that look in his eyes, with both love and a conflict he is fighting deep within himself.

and you believed him, of course you would. he’s the same boy who courted you for six months in university because he was so deeply in love with you, the same man who flew you both to hawaii and gave you the most magical proposal ever to be done.

you tried to hold onto the love and trust that had once been so strong, so unshakeable. but each forgotten date, each broken promise chipped away at your trust, leaving you feeling hollow and alone.

today, on the morning of your anniversary, you awoke with a sense of something different, hope for you and sunghoon.

this would be the day you reminded sunghoon of the love you still had for him, and always will. the love that had brought you together in the first place.

you spent hours in the kitchen, preparing his favorite dishes, your hands moving with practiced ease as you cooked. the smell of his favourite kimchi stew and freshly made kimbap filled the air, the same cooking he said he would never ever get tired of.

the scents mingling with the hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the gesture that rekindled sunghoon’s love for you, you missed his touch, his kisses, the sparkle in his eyes, he still has it- but nowadays all he could really do is look down.

as you wrapped a red bow around the lunchbox, you grinned, perfect.

you drove to his office, each mile a reminder of the distance that had grown between you. as you walked through the lobby, your heart pounded with a mix of anticipation, fear, and longing.

the elevator ride seemed to take forever, the seconds stretching out as you rehearsed what you would say, how you would greet him, how you would kiss him.

but nothing in the world could have prepared you for the sight that met you when you opened the door to his office. sunghoon, your husband, the man you had vowed to love and cherish, for better or for worse, was locked in an embrace with his secretary, their lips moving together in a kiss that was all too passionate, all too real.

the box slipped from your hands, the sound of shattering glass, some pieces piercing your legs barely registering as you stood frozen in place.

you felt like you had been stabbed in the heart, you had never felt heartbreak before, and you didn’t understand people when they said everything hurt, now you did.

"y/n," sunghoon's voice broke through the fog of your shock, his eyes wide with panic as his hands trembled.

the hand with your wedding ring trembling.

"this isn't what it looks like honey,”

your chest tightened at the name, the name he couldn’t be bothered to address you as in months.

tears blurred your vision as you shook your head. the pain was unbearable, a physical ache that made it hard to breathe. without a word, you turned and fled, the sound of sunghoon calling your name fading as you ran. the drive home was a blur, sobbing as you got concerned looks from other cars, you were not in any shape to be driving, really.

but you didn’t care- your mind was reeling with the betrayal you had just witnessed.

at home, the same home you and sunghoon bought a month after your marriage- the home with six bedrooms because that was how many kids sunghoon wanted to have with you, the same home where you and sunghoon had late night talks, wrapped in each others embrace.

you moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding staring at the picture frame at the end of the hall, a picture taken on your wedding day.

your hands mechanically packing your belongings. each item you placed in your suitcase felt like another piece of your heart being chipped away.

you were almost finished when you heard the front door slam open, sunghoon's frantic footsteps echoing through the house.

“y/n-“

he cut himself off at the sight before him- the suitcase being packed, the sight of the wardrobe being oddly empty because your clothes would always be overflowing it.

"y/n, no.. please," he begged, sobbing as he fell to his knees before you. "don't leave me. i can't live without you, i won’t do it ever again."

you looked down at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and complete despair.

even after what he did to you, all you wanted to do was to be held by him again, all you wanted all these months was for him to finally long for you like you longed for him- how unfortunate the circumstances were, you thought.

his tears fell down his glass cheeks, his hands trembling as he reached out to you, you shivered at his touch, it felt so foreign, unfamiliar.

"i made a mistake," he cried, his voice raw with emotion. "i love you more than anything in this whole world. please, give me another chance- i’ll make you the happiest girl in the world, we’ll have six kids and we’ll grow old together!”

your mind wavered for a moment, the memories of your life together flashing through your mind. the happiest memories of your life with sunghoon in them, but you knew that staying would only be betraying yourself, that the trust between you had been shattered much beyond repair.

leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, it wasn’t for him, it was for yourself. the taste of his tears mingling with your own.

"goodbye, hoon," you whispered, your voice breaking. "i hope you find the happiness you couldn't find with me."

with a final look at the man who had once been your everything, you turned and walked out the door, the sound of your suitcase trailing behind you as you tried to keep your composure at the hysterical sobbing from sunghoon behind you.

the drive to your best friend heeseung's house was filled with the sound of your sobs and screaming, each mile taking you further from the life you had known.

when he opened the door, heeseung’s heart dropped. his eyes filled with concern at the sight of you. he pulled you into his arms without a word.

"it's okay, y/n," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper to your wounded heart. "i'm here for you, im not leaving."

you clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt as you let out all the pain and heartache that had been building inside you. heeseung's presence was a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions, his embrace a reminder that you were not alone.

as the night wore on, you found solace in the company of your best friend, knowing that you had made the right choice, even though it had shattered your heart into delicate pieces, pieces you didn’t know could be fixed.

in heeseung's arms, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of the love you had once believed in, the loss of your best friend, and lover. the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it poured out in waves of tears and hushed sobs.

heeseung listened to you without interruption, his presence feeling like a heavy blanket over you and the world, comfort as you navigated the gut wrenching feeling in your heart.

"it's not your fault, love" he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your tear-streaked face.

"you did everything you could." he said looking at you with a gaze in which you didn’t notice, you never did. the gaze you’d given sunghoon for years, the gaze he gave you long before you’d even met sunghoon.

"but it wasn't enough, hee" you replied, your tears rolling down your cheeks, voice raspy from all the sobbing, it was barely above a whisper.

"i wasn't enough."

heeseung shook his head, his expression filled with an ache in his heart and anger at your self doubt. "no, y/n. you are enough. you always have been. sunghoon's mistakes don't define your worth, he’s the dumbest man to ever live, i’d do anything to have you."

you turned to him, bewildered at his words. you looked down at his shaking hands as you sobbed wrapping your arms around him.

“i’m so sorry, hee. i’m selfish, you don’t deserve this- you should tell me to leave-“

he cut you off with a hard hug, you cried harder as his own tears soaked your bare neck.

“don’t say that- i don’t care if i get hurt, or you use me, i don’t. all i need is you beside me, okay? don’t worry about anything.”

his words, though comforting, couldn't fully erase the pain that lingered in your heart. but in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your best friend's embrace, the love that radiates off of his body.

you felt a glimmer of hope, you were in no shape of moving on just yet, the road ahead would be difficult, filled with moments of utter pain and sorrow, but you knew that you wouldn't have to face it alone.

as the orange sunset began to filter through the windows, you found yourself at a break from the pain in your heart, staring out at the view in peace. heeseung's steady breathing beside you, the quiet hum of the world settling down, it all felt like a promise that everything would be okay.

you took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, and allowed yourself to believe that maybe, you would find happiness again.

with heeseung by your side, you faced the days ahead with strength. the pain of sunghoon's betrayal would always be a part of you forever, but it wouldn't define you. in the embrace of heeseung and the promise of a new beginning, you found the courage to move forward, one step at a time.

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle

#꒰ luna works! ꪆ୧ ꒱ *.⊹˚#enchive #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfic #enha imagines #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fanfic #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #lee heeseung fanfic

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littlelamy · 2 months ago

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hi!! love ur work!!

dk if ur accepting requests rn, but was wondering if you could write smth about pop star!reader & drew (or just overall singer!reader). i saw someone talking about it and i cant get it off of my mind

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

it was another sold-out show. another city. another wave of excitement from thousands of fans packed into a venue, shouting your name and hanging onto every note that poured out of you. the adrenaline rush of performing live was unmatched, the kind of high that no drug could ever replicate. but after a month of touring nonstop, even the thrill of being on stage started to wear thin.

it wasn’t that you didn’t love it. you did—every bit of it. from the screaming fans to the electric energy in the air, it was everything you’d dreamed of when you first started in the music industry. but there was a part of you that felt off-balance, like you were running on empty. touring was exhausting, the never-ending cycle of cities, rehearsals, and interviews blurring together into one chaotic whirlwind.

and then there was him.

drew.

it had been a month since you’d last seen him in person. one long, torturous month of late-night facetime calls, texts that never seemed to come at the right time because of your conflicting schedules, and longing that seemed to grow worse with every passing day. while you were hopping from city to city, drew had been just as busy with his projects—filming, press events, photoshoots. you understood. you were both caught up in your careers, chasing dreams that had taken years of hard work to build. but understanding didn’t make it easier. you missed him. every part of him.

the smell of his cologne, the way his voice sounded when he whispered in your ear late at night, the feeling of his arms around you when the world felt too big. it was starting to wear you down, the ache of wanting him by your side and knowing that, for now, it wasn’t possible. every facetime call ended with a hollow sort of emptiness, as if the screen between you was a barrier you couldn't break through no matter how much you wanted to.

the show tonight had gone off without a hitch, but you couldn’t shake the weird feeling lingering at the back of your mind, like something was missing. the lights dimmed as the crowd roared, the final note hanging in the air. you threw your arms up, shouting your thanks into the microphone before jogging off stage, your heart still racing from the energy of the crowd. the crew backstage clapped and congratulated you, but your mind was elsewhere.

“great show tonight,” your tour manager said as you handed off your mic and took a long sip of water, your body still buzzing from the performance.

“thanks,” you replied absentmindedly, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair. all you could think about was your hotel room. a long, hot shower. maybe a glass of wine. and then another lonely night where you’d scroll through the hundreds of pictures of drew on your phone, wishing he was there.

you were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice him at first.

as you turned the corner into the quieter part of the backstage area, something caught your eye. a figure leaning casually against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets, a soft smile playing on his lips. your heart nearly stopped.

it was him.

drew.

you blinked, unsure if you were hallucinating from exhaustion, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. but no, there he was, standing there in a black hoodie and jeans, looking like he had just stepped out of one of your dreams.

“surprise,” he said with a smirk, his voice calm, but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

your body moved before your brain could catch up, your feet propelling you toward him at full speed. you practically launched yourself into his arms, your face burying in his chest as you held onto him tightly. “oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his hoodie. “what are you doing here?”

his arms wrapped around you, strong and warm, just the way you remembered. “i missed you,” he said simply, his lips brushing against your hair as he spoke. “i couldn’t stay away any longer.”

you pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. “you didn’t even tell me you were coming,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest.

he grinned, that playful smile that always made your stomach flip. “that’s kinda the point of a surprise, babe.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, where all the stress and loneliness of the last month had been building. seeing him now, standing right in front of you, made everything else fade away. the exhaustion, the homesickness, the long nights spent staring at your phone—it all disappeared.

“i can’t believe you’re really here,” you said softly, your hands coming up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his jaw, his cheekbones. you wanted to memorize every inch of him, just in case this was another one of those fleeting moments that would be over too soon.

“i wasn’t gonna miss the chance to see you perform,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “you’re amazing out there.”

you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words. even after all this time, he still had that effect on you. “i’m better when you’re here,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not the same without you.”

drew’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender way that made your heart swell. the kiss was slow at first, gentle and unhurried, like he was savoring every second of it. you melted into him, your hands slipping up into his hair as you kissed him back, all the longing and frustration of the past month pouring into that one moment.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and a little dizzy, he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your lower back. “i’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m here. for as long as you need me.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. the relief washed over you like a wave, the tension in your shoulders finally easing as you let yourself relax in his arms. “i need you,” you admitted softly. “i always need you.”

drew’s arms tightened around you, and he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more need. the world around you seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing closer together as if you couldn’t get enough of each other. his hands roamed over your back, slipping under the hem of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“God, i’ve missed this,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. “missed you.”

your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him harder, the sound of your breathing filling the empty hallway. you backed up against the wall without even realizing it, your back pressing against the cool surface as drew’s body pressed against yours. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, the need to be close to him, to feel him, taking over every rational thought in your mind.

he kissed his way down your jaw, his lips trailing over your neck as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips. “drew,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need.

“i know,” he murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body against yours, his lips working their way back up to yours. “i know.”

the kiss turned desperate, almost frantic, like you were trying to make up for all the lost time in one single moment. his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked up at him, your lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. “i don’t know if i’m ever gonna let you leave again,” you admitted breathlessly, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

drew chuckled, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his own breath. “i wouldn’t mind that,” he said, his voice low and rough. “i’d stay right here with you forever if i could.”

you smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “good,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time slower, softer, like you had all the time in the world.

the kiss was sweet, full of promise and love, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

as the noise from the crew and backstage workers started to filter back into your awareness, you reluctantly pulled away, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “we should probably—”

drew grinned, his eyes sparkling as he cut you off with another quick kiss. “we’ve got time,” he murmured against your lips. “let’s not rush.”

you smiled, your heart swelling with happiness as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. for now, it didn’t matter that the tour was still going, that you had more cities to visit, more shows to perform. all that mattered was that he was here, with you.

and you weren’t letting him go anytime soon.

the next couple of hours passed in a blur. after the initial surprise wore off, you and drew managed to steal away into one of the more private areas backstage, where you could just be together without any interruptions. sitting side by your side on a worn-out couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, you finally felt a calm wash over you that you hadn’t felt in weeks. it was like everything settled back into place just by having him near you.

“so,” drew said after a while, his fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair, “how many more shows do you have left?”

“three,” you replied, tilting your head to look up at him. “just three more, and then i’m back home.”

“home, huh?” he teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “you mean where i’ll be waiting for you with takeout and a bottle of wine?”

you laughed softly, nodding. “exactly that. except maybe i’ll be the one bringing the wine.”

he chuckled, his thumb gently tracing circles on your shoulder. “deal. can’t wait. but for now, i’m all yours for the rest of tonight.”

you leaned your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “i still can’t believe you’re here,” you murmured, your voice soft with contentment. “you really surprised me.”

“i wanted to,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i knew how hard this month’s been for both of us. couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”

your heart swelled at his words. there was something so comforting about having him close again, the kind of comfort that only came with someone who knew you inside and out. even with busy lives, drew always made sure you felt like the most important thing in his world.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you even realized it. it wasn’t the first time you’d said it, but every time felt just as meaningful, just as true.

drew’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your forehead. “i love you too,” he whispered back, his voice full of emotion. “always.”

for a while, the two of you just sat there in peaceful silence, holding onto each other like the rest of the world didn’t exist. it was a rare, precious moment where time seemed to slow down, and you could just be. no pressures, no responsibilities—just you and drew, wrapped up in each other.

eventually, though, reality crept back in.

“you’ve got an early call tomorrow,” you reminded him reluctantly, your voice tinged with disappointment. “and i have to be at soundcheck.”

“i know,” he sighed, pulling back just enough to look down at you. “but i’ll be here, alright? for the rest of the tour.”

you blinked in surprise. “wait, you’re staying?”

“yeah,” drew said, his smile widening as he nodded. “i cleared my schedule. i’m not letting you finish this tour alone.”

a wave of relief and happiness washed over you, and you couldn’t help the huge smile spreading across your face. “drew, are you serious?”

“dead serious.” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. “we’re doing this together.”

tears of happiness welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, overwhelmed by how much love you felt for him in that moment. “i can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

“i’d do anything for you,” he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “you know that.”

you kissed him again, slow and sweet, savoring the feel of his lips against yours. the exhaustion from the tour, the long nights apart, the stress—it all melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence, the comfort of knowing you weren’t alone anymore.

as you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you breathed him in. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you.”

drew chuckled, his fingers gently tracing your jawline. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured. “believe me.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

#drew #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew st #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #obx #obx drew #obx fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks

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marysfics · 2 days ago

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In the Glow of Christmas Lights, You Bring Me Clarity

Small one shot of Alexia Putellas x Vision-Impaired!Reader

Fluff

The soft hum of holiday music filled the living room, blending with the faint crackle of the fireplace. The scent of cinnamon, pine, and freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, wrapping the space in warmth and comfort. Christmas lights twinkled along the walls, their colors vivid even through the haze of your vision.

It was one of your bad days. The world was a blurry mess, the details of the room fading into indistinct shapes and shadows. You’d hoped the festive atmosphere might distract you from it, but the frustration lingered like a weight in your chest.

“Need a hand?” Alexia’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft and steady as always.

You turned toward her shape, the dark sweater she wore standing out against the glow of the tree. “I think I’ve got it,” you replied, though your hands fumbled as you tried to string the last ornament onto the tree.

“Hmm,” Alexia hummed skeptically. She crossed the room in a few strides and gently took the ornament from your hand. “Let me help.”

Her touch was familiar, grounding. She guided your hand with hers, lifting the ornament to a higher branch before stepping back. “Perfect,” she said, though you couldn’t tell if it was or not.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Alexia crouched slightly, trying to meet your gaze. “Bad day?”

You nodded reluctantly. “It’s hard to enjoy everything when I can’t… see it.”

Her expression softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “Close your eyes,” she said.

“What?”

“Just trust me. Close your eyes.”

With a sigh, you did as she asked.

“Okay,” Alexia began, her voice warm and soothing. “The tree is glowing—it’s covered in golden lights, the ones you insisted we use this year. The ornaments are a mix of red, silver, and green. The star at the top is a little crooked because I rushed it, but I think it gives the tree some charm.”

You smiled faintly, her voice painting a picture clearer than your eyes could manage.

“There’s a plate of cookies on the coffee table,” she continued. “Some are burnt—my fault again—but the ones you made are perfect. And the stockings are hanging by the fireplace. Yours looks fuller than mine, by the way.”

You laughed softly. “That’s because you said you didn’t want anything.”

“I lied,” she teased.

Alexia shifted closer, her hand still holding yours. “There’s snow falling outside,” she said, her tone quieter now. “It’s not heavy, just a light dusting, but it’s enough to make everything sparkle.”

Her words painted the scene so vividly in your mind that you felt your frustration begin to fade.

“And you?” you asked. “What do you look like right now?”

She paused, her thumb brushing over your hand. “I’m wearing that sweater you hate—dark green with the itchy fabric. My hair’s a mess because I didn’t have time to fix it after training. And I’m smiling because you’re here, and it’s Christmas, and that’s all I really wanted.”

Your eyes opened, blurring back to reality, but the warmth in Alexia’s voice stayed with you.

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, but there was no mistaking the emotion in your voice.

Alexia grinned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. But it made you smile.”

“It did,” you admitted, squeezing her hand in return.

The room was still a blur, but it didn’t matter as much anymore. With Alexia by your side, grounding you in her world, Christmas felt clearer than it ever had.

Alexia stayed close, her hand in yours, as the warm glow of the fireplace danced across the room. You could feel the unspoken comfort she brought, but there was still a weight pressing against your chest—a mix of anticipation and frustration.

“I, uh…” you started, your voice wavering.

Alexia tilted her head slightly, her expression curious. “What is it?”

You reached into the pocket of your sweater, fingers brushing against the small object hidden there. It was supposed to be her gift, something you’d been planning for weeks. But with your sight so unreliable today, you couldn’t make out the details well enough to hand it to her properly or explain its meaning the way you wanted.

“I got you something,” you admitted softly, pulling your hand back before you fully retrieved it.

Her eyes lit up, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip. “But it’s… it’s not perfect. And I can’t even—” You stopped, the words catching in your throat.

Alexia’s brow furrowed slightly, concern creeping into her expression. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. Whatever it is, I’ll love it.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “No, it’s not that simple. I wanted to make it special, but I can’t even see well enough to… to make sure it’s right. I wanted to give it to you properly.”

Her hand tightened around yours, her touch steadying you. “You don’t have to do anything perfectly, amor. Just tell me.”

You exhaled slowly, nodding as you finally retrieved the small object from your pocket. It was a delicate silver bracelet, simple yet elegant, with a tiny charm shaped like a star.

“I thought it reminded me of you,” you said quietly. “You’re always this bright, steady presence in my life. Like a star—always there, even when I can’t see clearly.”

Alexia stared at the bracelet, her expression softening as her fingers gently brushed over yours to take it. She held it up, letting it catch the warm glow of the Christmas lights.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“I wasn’t sure if it was good enough,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia shook her head, setting the bracelet down carefully before taking both your hands in hers. “It’s more than enough. Do you know why?”

You shook your head, unsure.

“Because it came from you,” she said simply. “And because you always make me feel like the luckiest person in the world, no matter what. This just proves it even more.”

You felt the tension ease, your chest lighter as her words settled in.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your temple. “I’m going to wear it every day.”

Your lips curled into a small smile, your heart full despite the blurry world around you. Alexia had a way of making everything feel clearer, even when you couldn’t see it for yourself.

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I want to wish everyone happy holidays and a healthy 2025! Thank you for all the love and support you've all shown my writing- it means the world to me. This might be my last piece for a while, but I always cherish the encouragement and kindness you've all shared. Wishing you all the best in the year ahead! 🎄🎇

#woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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alotofpockets · 18 days ago

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First day | Daphne van Domselaar x Arsenal media team!Reader

Where you meet Daphne on her first day at Arsenal

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

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“Win, buddy, where are you going?” You called after the dog who just ran off. Usually she was a very good listener, but after you had taken off her leash when you were nearing the door, she dashed off in the direction of the parking lot and was not listening to a word you were saying.

You ran after her, hoping no one was currently driving around on the lot. What you saw when you got Win back in your vision melted your heart. It was Arsenal’s newest recruit, Daphne van Domselaar, crouched down and giving Win some love.

“I see you met Win.” You say as you walk up to the pair. “I think she more so met me.” She chuckled, as she kept petting the chocolate lab. “Yeah, she just ran off. I think she knew a new friend was arriving.”

The Dutch goalkeeper got up and extended her hand. “I’m Daphne.” You smile and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Daphne, I’m Y/n.” Her eyes sparkle in recognition. “Oh, we’ve been emailing! Thank you so much for all your London tips. I would’ve asked Vic or Viv, but I didn’t want them to feel like they had to take care of me, you know?”

“Yeah, no problem at all! I was happy to help.” You had originally emailed her to set up her schedule for her first day at the club. You were Arsenal’s media team manager, and wanted to make sure she was up to speed with everything, making her first day as comfortable as possible. After telling her you were there for any questions she had, even outside of the club, she was more than welcome to ask you, she had come to you with a few questions about London.

“Now buddy, let’s get you back inside and show Daphne around, shall we?” You turned to Win, and put her leash back on. She was a happy girl, and started walking right away. Glad to have made a new friend, who was following her to the door.

You chat with Daphne for a bit, asking her about her move and how she’s feeling about joining Arsenal on your way to the building. Despite just a few emails between the two of you before today, there was an ease in your conversation that made it feel like you had known her for longer.

Once inside you looked for Stella, who was set to give Daphne her tour of the training facility. “Hey Stella, Daphne is here.” You tell your coworker after you find her at her desk. “Ah great, I will be right out!”

“Mind if I snap a quick picture?” You ask as you walk back into the hallway where Win has laid down her head in Daphne’s lap. “Yeah, go for it.” Daphne smiles for the picture and you show her how adorable the scene looked. “Can you please send that to me? I have to show that to my mom, she loves labs.”

You hand her your phone so she can put in her number, and send the picture to her right before Stella walks up. “Enjoy the tour, and I’ll see you after your contract signing and the rest of the media stuff.” Daphne smiles fondly, “See you later.”

The weeks after Daphne’s arrival passed by in a blur. Between filming everything for her arrival and shooting all of her kit pictures, to her training sessions with the team, you quickly got used to having the Dutch goalie around.

Daphne quickly became one of your favourite players to photograph. Her smile intrigued you, and her easy going personality drew you to her even more.

She often lingered after training to chat with you, asking you about your camera gear and just talking about life. The rest of the team noticed the way the two of you were drawn to each other as well, throwing teasing comments Daphne’s way, but she always brushed them off with a laugh.

It was clear to everyone around you that the two of you liked each other, but neither one of you made a move. You told yourself that it was because it was unprofessional to get involved with a player, even though Stella had already subtly mentioned in conversation that dating a player was okay since you weren’t in a position of power towards each other. Similar to Daphne you had waved off the comment and said you were just friends, but deep down you knew that even thinking of Daphne made your heartbeat raise.

Arsenal had qualified for the Champions League, which was a huge deal, and also the reason for another media day. You arrived at the training grounds early to set up the set with your team.

Daphne jogged over the second the team walked into the room. “Hi you,” She greeted you with her usual bright smile. “Ready for another day of making us look good?”

“Always,” you replied with a grin, as you adjusted the settings on your camera, “Though you make my job pretty easy.” Her cheeks flushed as she walked off to join her teammates again. You heard them chuckling and could only guess at what they were telling her at that moment.

After a successful media day you packed up your gear and headed home. While you loved your job, today had been a long day and you were ready to just go home and put your feet up. The universe however took that wish a little too literally.

What was supposed to be a quick stop at the grocery store, turned into a trip to the hospital. As you were walking back to your car, another car crashed into you after it swerved to not hit a cyclist who crossed the street without looking.

Your phone was shattered, but you knew your mom’s number by heart, so you made one of the bystanders call her and tell her to meet you at the hospital. She was able to take you home a couple hours later, where you could finally put your feet up. But this time on doctors orders after a surgery and cast on your leg.

Once you were settled, you asked your mom to find the number to the Arsenal facility, so you could let them know what happened.

The next day at training Daphne kept looking over to see if you had joined the rest of the media team, it wasn’t like you to be late, but she still held out hope to see you. When the training session was done, she walked up to Stella, “Hey, no y/n today?”

A sombre look took over the woman’s face, “Oh no, honey, she was in an accident yesterday.” Daphne started panicking right away, “Oh god, is she alright?”

“Broken leg and some bruising I heard. She’s at home already, so I think she’s doing alright.” Daphne thanked Stella and quickly wrapped up training. She was able to get your address from one of the staff members and was at your door with flowers and chocolates not even thirty minutes later.

She knocked on the door and was faced with an unfamiliar face. “Hi, I’m Daphne, am I at the right house for Y/n?” The woman smiles, “I know who you are sweetheart, come on in. I’m y/n’s mom.”

“Who was at the door?” You asked when your mom came walking back. She stepped aside to reveal Daphne. Your smile grew when you saw her enter the room. “I’m gonna run some errands.” Your mom announced before walking off and leaving the two of you alone.

“These are for you.” Daphne presents the flowers and chocolates. “I heard you got into an accident and I wanted to check in.” As you reached for your crutches, Daphne was quick to tell you to stay put. She found a vase to put the flowers in and then sat down beside you.

“How are you holding up?” She asked while giving you a piece of chocolate. “Very sore and tired, but doing alright considering.”

Just like always you fell into easy conversation with Daphne. Then Daphne remembered something. “Your mom said she knew me?” Your cheeks flush instantly. “I don’t know why she’d say that.”

Daphne chuckled at your bad lying abilities. “Fine, I told her about you.” Now she was really intrigued. “Go on.” With a shake of your head you turn the story back on her. “You first. What made you show up at my door?” Now it was the goalkeeper’s turn to blush. “Like I said, I wanted to check in.”

“Hmm, you could’ve texted me. You didn’t know that my phone got shattered in the accident.” Daphne felt a little caught and raised her hands. “Fine, you got me. I wanted to see you, because I was really worried when I heard something had happened. I had to see if you were okay. Because I would hate for something to happen to you and not having taken the chance to tell you how I feel about you.”

She looked at you with widened eyes, still wrapping her head around what she had just shared. “Okay enough about me, your turn. Why does your mom know who I am?” Quickly turning the conversation away from herself.

“My mom knows who you are because I talk about you non-stop.” Daphne looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “You’re talking to your mom about me?” You nod nervously, “Yeah, she was faster to figure out that I have a crush on you than I was.”

“I would totally kiss you right now if I wasn’t so afraid of hurting you.” You lean in anyways and kiss her. When you pull away you say, “Enough painkillers in my body to not let that stop me from finally kissing you.” You both smiled with your foreheads still pressed together.

“I know it’s not the most fancy date I can offer, but how do you feel about watching a movie right now? We can order some food as well.” You nod your head and smile, “That sounds amazing.”

Daphne gets the remote and hands it over to you to pick a movie. “Can I borrow your phone? I want to let my mom know she doesn’t have to come back to help me and can just go home.” She hands you her phone and once you have sent the message, the two of you get comfortable on the couch.

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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#daphne van domselaar #daphne van domselaar x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal women x reader #awfc x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #nedwnt #nedwnt x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen #oranje leeuwinnen

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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

Text

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless.

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too.

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart.

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose.

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own.

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension.

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation.

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning.

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip.

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought.

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment.

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically.

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.”

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s.

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep.

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips.

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.”

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself.

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde.

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted.

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed.

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger.

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back.

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over.

And then she hits block.

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige.

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly.

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that.

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more.

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes.

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into.

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck.

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out.

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige’s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins.

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin.

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever.

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup.

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple.

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in Azzi’s room.

“So you admit you’re sick then?”

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them.

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips.

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible.

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship.

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight.

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold.

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi.

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her.

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together.

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it.

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world.

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist.

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

415 notes · View notes

wolverigrl · 3 months ago

Text

Party (1)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Sooo this part was written right after clubbing, and I may got carried away, which why I divided it into two parts. The next part should be online on Monday or Tuesday! So stay tuned! :)

Warnings: smut (not completely detailed), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mentions of alcohol, some swearing, mentions of pregnancy

Not proofread!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It's happening. I'm officially a year older today. Honestly, I don't even feel the change. Except for maybe the overwhelming sense of everything right now - the music, the laughter, the champagne that seems to be in my hand all the time - and him. Especially him. Hugh.

The night feels like a dream, but it's real - my birthday, my party. I rented this entire club for the occasion, and it's filled to the brim with friends, the people I care about, the ones who've been there through everything. Some are people I used to only see on screens, in magazines, but now they're real, they're here, and they're celebrating me. It's surreal.

The cast of The Greatest Showman showed up early, and I've barely had amoment to myself. Zac and Zendaya are dancing like they don't have a care in the world. Keala's by the bar, harmonizing with the DJ's set like only she can. Everywhere I turn, someone new is pulling me in for a hug, giving me a gift, toasting to me and wishing me all the best.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Another friend comes up to me - one of the faces I vaguely recognize through the blur of champagne and flashing lights. They hand me a beautifully wrapped gift, and I accept it with a smile, although my mind is elsewhere. I'm grateful, of course, but the attention, the noise, the constant flow of people - it's overwhelming.

But my eyes always drift back to him. Hugh.

I catch a glimpse of him near the bar, his tall, broad frame leaning casually as he sips martini, talking to Ryan. The way the dim lights catch his features - sharp jawline, eyes that sparkle with a mischievous glint - it's like time slows down when I see him. My heart speeds up, a familiar heat spreading through me. It's not the alcohol. It's him.

I can't stop thinking about him, not tonight. There's something about the way he looks, how he moves in that perfectly tailored suit that drives me crazy. Maybe it's because I've had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe it's just that he's Hugh and he's everything I want right now. I'm feeling it, that hormonal pull that still won't quit. It's like I'm on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out.

Our eyes meet across the room. A slow, easy smile spreads across his lips, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. God, he's gorgeous. I feel myself gravitating toward him before I even realize what I'm doing weaving through the crowd.

"Enjoying your party, love?" His voice is low when I reach him, the deep itmbre sending shivers down my spine. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and I inhale the familiar scent of him - something earthy, masculine, mixed with the faintest hint of martini.

"I would be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't all the way over here." I murmur, my fingers finding the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

Hugh laughs softly, his hand sliding around my waist with such ease it feels like second nature.

"Oh, I see. Is the birthday girl feeling a little. neglected?"

"Maybe." I tease, but the truth is, it's not just that. It's everything. I feel wound up, my body buzzing from the alcohol, the excitement, and from him. The way his hand rests so possessively on my waist. The way his eyes darken just a bit when I lean in closer and my chest brushing against his.

He's trying to play it cool, but I know him too well. He feels it too, this spark between us that's been burning hotter as the night goes on. And right now, I can't think of anything but us.

I press my body against his, my lips just grazing his ear as I whisper.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all night."

His grip tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing my hip in a way that makes me bite my lip.

"Oh is that so?" His voice is teasing, but there's an edge to it now, something darker and more primal.

"Mmhmm" I hum, letting my hands drift up his chest, feeling the firmness of his body beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. My fingers toy with his collar, brushing against his skin.

"I can't stop thinking about how good you look in this suit."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound hat vibrates through my body.

"You're playing with fire, baby."

"Oh I like the burn." I grin.

For a moment, we're just standing here, locked in this invisible dance of tension and desire, the noise of he party fading into the background. My fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and I can feel the way his breath catches in response. He doesn't move, just looks at me with that slow smoldering gaze that makes my knees feel weak.

"Y/n.." he murmurs, his voice a little rough now, like he's barely holding himself back. "We're at your birthday party. You do realize that?"

I grin, pressing my hips against him as I lean up to whisper in his ear, "And what do you wanna do about that?"

His hand grips my waist tighter pulling me even closer, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath against my lips.

"You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only for you, baby."

Before I can say anything else, the music changes, and I feel the beat thrum through my body, pulling me onto the dance floor. Hugh follows, his hands on my hips as we move together.

Dancing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Every sway of my hips, every turn, it's like our bodies are in sync, perfectly attuned to each other. I can feel the heat of his hands on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress, and it makes me ache for more.

I turn in his arms, pressing my back against his chest and grinding against him as the music pulses around us. His hands tighten on my hips pulling me back harder against him, and I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy.

"Y/n.." he whispers in my ear, voice strained but playful.

"You're making it very hard to be a gentleman right now."

A wicked smile curves my lips. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. "Who said I want you to be a gentleman?"

His eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more primal. He presses a kiss to my neck, just below my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. I turn in his arms, facing him fully, and pull him into another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, oblivious to the crowd dancing around us

He groans softly into the kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and his fingers gripping my hips like he's trying to keep some semblance of control. But I can feel him losing it, just as much as I am. The way his body presses into mine, the heat between us - it's almost unbearable.

The music blurs into the background, and all I can think about is the feel of him behind me. His body moving with mine, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire on my skin. I look up, our lips just inches apart.

"We should stop.." he murmurs though his grip on me doesn't loosen. If anything, he pulls me closer.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his in the barest of touches, teasing.

"Do you really want to?"

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his mouth crashes against mine, and I lose myself in the taste of him. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and I can feel the way his body tenses against mine, like he's holding back everything he wants to do.

I know we're still in the middle of the dance floor, but I don't care. Right now, it's just him and me, lost in the heat of the moment. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide against hus, and he groans into my mouth, pulling me even closer, if that's even possible.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull away from the dance floor. My head is spinning, but not only from the champagne. I grab his hand, pulling him toward the photobooth in the corner of the club.

"Come on, let's do something fun!" I say with a playful grin, tugging him inside.

He laughs, following me into the cramped space. The curtain closes pehind us, and I waste no time climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling his.

"Smile for the camera!" I say, sticking my tongue out at him just as the first flash goes off.

We make silly faces for the next few shots - sticking our tongues out crossing our eyes - but I can feel the tension building between us again. My body is still humming from the dancing, the closeness, the way his hands feel on my thighs, even through the fabric of my dress.

I lean in for the next shot, kissing his cheek, but it doesn't stop there. The kiss lingers, my lips trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me.

"Love.." he breathes, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping them tightly. "You're really trying to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"

smile against his skin, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, "Maybe."

The camera flashes again, but we're not paying attention anymore. My mouth finds his, and the kiss quickly turns heated, desperate. His hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel him hard against me, and it only makes me want him more.

I grind against him, and he groans softly, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I know I'II have bruises tomorrow. But I don't care. All I care about is the feel of him beneath me, the way his mouth moves against mine and the way his hands are everywhere at once.

We're lost in each other, so caught in the heat of the moment that I barely register the curtain ripping open. It takes a second for reality to hit, but when it does, it's not subtle.

"Hey! No funny business in there!" a voice teases, giggling as it echoes in the small booth.

I freeze, still straddling Hugh, our lips inches apart, our breathing heavy. I look up and find Chris standing there with his brother Scott, both grinning like they've just caught us in the act - because, well, they pretty much have.

"Really, guys?" I groan, burying my face in Hugh's neck in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Hugh chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath me, still catching his breath.

Chris gives me an exaggerated wink. "What? Thought we'd come join the party. The booth's big enough for four, right?"

"Get out of here, man!" Hugh says with a laugh, shaking his head, though he's still holding onto me like he has no intention of letting go. His hands remain firm on my waist and his body warm beneath mine. Scott leans against the doorway of the booth, grinning. "You know, we're happy for you two, but maybe save the PDA for after the birthday cake?"

I roll my eyes and slide off Hugh's lap, standing up and adjusting my dress, trying not to look too flustered.

"Fine, fine. The booth is yours!"

Hugh stands up behind me, smoothing down his suit and running a hand through his hair. He's got that mischievous glint in his eyes, though one that tells me this is far from over.

"Have fun!" he says, stepping out of the booth, his hand slipping into mine as we head back toward the party. I squeeze his fingers, unable to hide the grin on my face. But as we walk away, I feel the heat between us still simmering beneath the surface. It's like every brush of his hand against mine, every glance he gives me, is charged with electricity. I don't think either of us is done with what we started.

We slip into a quieter area of the club, tucked away from the noise of the party.

There's a small storage room just off the side of the main hallway, dimly lit, the perfect place to catch our breath and maybe finish what we started.

Inside the storage room, it's cramped and cluttered, a stark contrast to the opulent club just outside. The air smells faintly of cleaning products and dust. Shelves ine the walls, stacked with supplies - boxes, extra bottles of liquor, random equipment that looks untouched for months. There's a small, rickety table in the corner, just big enough for me to sit on, though it Iooks like it could collapse at any moment.

Hugh's hands are on me the second the door clicks shut. His lips find mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and the world around us fades into a blur of heat and need. His fingers grip my tips, pulling me against him, and can feel the hardness of him through his pants, pressing insistently against me, The urgency between us is undeniable, like we've been holding back all night and can't wait another second.

He guides me backward, and stumble slightly as my back hits the edge of the small table, my breath catching. His mouth leaves a scorching trail along my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my collarbone. I shiver, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I need you." I whisper, my voice breathy and desperate.

His response is a low growl vibrating against my skin. "God, y/n.. I need you too. I've needed you all night."

With one swift motion, he lifts me onto the table, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The table creaks beneath me, unsteady from our combined weight, but neither of us cares. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, bunching it around my hips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." he murmurs against my ear, his voice thick with desire. His nands grip my waist, and his lips brush my neck again, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches.

"I've been thinking about you.. imagining this.. every second of tonight."

A soft moan escapes my lips as his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and I arch my back, pressing against him. "Hugh please.."

Hugh's mouth crashes back onto mine swallowing my words. He fumbles with his belt, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft hiss, and the sound alone makes my pulse race. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands shake slightly with need, and it drives me wild.

He pulls my panties to the side, and I gasp as his fingers slide against me, teasingly testing.

"Fuck. You're so wet." he whispers, his voice hoarse. His fingers dip inside me briefly, making me gasp.

"And all for me?"

"Only for you baby.." I manage to say parely able to form the words through the haze of desire.

I need you, Hugh. Now."

With a groan, he frees himself from his pants, and I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions himself at my entrance, and I bite my lip, already rembling with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "Say it."

"I want you." I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

"I want you to fuck me."

He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a moan escapes my lips. The sensation of him filling me is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches me and takes me.

"Fucking hell, y/n." he groans, his forehead pressed against mine as he bottoms out inside me.

"You feel...so fucking good."

The table creaks beneath us, swaying slightly from our movements, but I barely notice. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he begins to move slow at first, then harder, faster, until the rhythm of his thrusts matches the beat of the music still thudding through the walls. With every movement, I feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter until l'm on the verge of breaking. Hugh's hands roam my body, gripping my thighs my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts through my dress. His lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me with a desperation that mirrors my own.

"You make me feel so good.." I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Don't stop... please, don't stop.."

His hand slides down to grip my ass pulling me harder against him as he thrusts deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you, y/n." he groans, his voice rough with need. "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Hugh." I whisper, my body trembling as I hold onto him for dear life.

"I love you so much."

We're completely lost in each other now, the world around us disappearing as we move together and the table creaking loudly beneath us.

At one point, I hear something fall - a bottle or maybe a box knocked off one of the shelves - but neither of us cares. We're too far gone, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment to think about anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster, and I feel the tension inside me snap.

My climax crashes through me, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every nerve in my body. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I hold on, riding the wave of ecstasy.

Hugh groans loudly as he follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he thrusts one last time, his release hot and deep inside me. We're both shaking, breathless, our bodies pressed so tightly together it's like we're one.

For at few moments, we - just stay like that, holding each other with our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath. The room is silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the faint thump of music still vibrating through the walls.

After a long moment, Hugh pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looks at me. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You're amazing." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, my heart still racing. "So are you."

He kisses me again, but this time slower and sweeter, like he's savoring the moment. Then, with a soft laugh he pulls back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Here, love." he says with a grin, his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. It's such a gentlemanly gesture, one that makes me laugh softly. He helps me clean up, his touch careful and respectful, and I can't help but feel a rush of affection for him in that moment.

"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, running a hand through his tousled hair, which is still slightly damp with sweat from our heated encounter.

"I like to think so." he replies with a wink, adjusting his pants and redoing his belt.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer while kissing softly my forehead.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

smile, my heart still pounding 'More than okay.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slowly puling away and helping me straighten out my dress. We both fumble with our clothes trying to make ourselves look at least somewhat presentable, but I can't stop myself from smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie, and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're fussing." He says with a lazy smile while his hands find my waist again. "They're going to know we've been up to something."

"I don't care!" I laugh softly, though I can feel my cheeks flushing. I tug on his shirt collar one last time, making sure everything is back in place.

Then, he looks at me with that familiar softness in his eyes, the intensity from earlier replaced with something deeper. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and for a moment, we just stand there in the dim light, staring at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What if you were pregnant?"

...

- to be continued -

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

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#hugh jackman #wolverine #hugh jackman x you #marvel #x men #hugh #hugh jackman x reader #jackman #hugh jackman imagines #fluff #smut #hugh jackman smut #chris evans #ryan reynolds #blake lively #the greatest showman #birthday party #logan howlett

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claramelooo · 12 days ago

Text

Hey, my lovers! 12k words today, huh? You're welcome! Hahaha enjoy!

Obs: Christmas wishes were given in this chapter!

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NSFW, angst

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader

Summary: Wanda pressures you until you tell what you tried so hard to hide

VELVET CHAINS

Passion

The sun was warm but not scorching, and the sound of children's laughter echoed through the park as Billy and Tommy ran circles around a tall tree, each holding a plastic stick like a sword. They were so full of energy it was hard to keep up, but the glow on their faces made everything worthwhile.

You were sitting on a checkered blanket beside Wanda, your bare feet touching the soft grass. She had insisted on bringing a basket filled with fruits, sandwiches, and a homemade pie that promised to be delicious. Next to you, she seemed completely at ease, a rare, serene smile lighting up her face as she watched the boys play.

"I should’ve brought a shield to defend the world from those two," you joked, laughing as Billy tried to attack Tommy with a dramatic pose.

"Don’t worry," Wanda replied, her eyes sparkling. "They only attack those who deserve it."

You laughed, but your laughter was cut short by the touch of her hand on yours. It was a simple gesture, as if she wanted to catch your attention while pointing out something funny about the boys. But there was something about that touch—in the way her fingers intertwined with yours, firm yet gentle. The warmth traveled up your arm like an electric current, and suddenly the world around you seemed blurred, as if only she mattered.

You glanced down at your joined hands and then up at her face. Wanda wasn’t looking at you; she was smiling at the boys as though holding your hand was the most natural thing in the world. But to you, it wasn’t natural. It was overwhelming.

Your heart started to race, and you felt panic rising in your chest. Was this what it felt like to be in love? It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. You knew how complicated things were, knew there wasn’t room in her life for you beyond the place you already occupied. But in that moment, as you watched the sunlight dance in her hair and felt the warmth of her hand on yours, you had to admit to yourself: you were falling.

Wanda turned to you, her green eyes meeting yours, and it was as if she could see straight into you.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with concern.

"Yeah," you replied too quickly, diverting your gaze to the picnic basket. "I just... there’s so much food, huh? I’m not sure we’ll manage to eat it all."

She chuckled softly, giving your hand a light squeeze before letting go. "I brought it because I know my little monsters. They’ll finish all of it before we get home."

You tried to laugh along, but the truth was, without her hand in yours, the world suddenly felt less bright.

As Billy and Tommy ran back for water, laughing and arguing about who had won the "battle," you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment and swore to keep it all a secret. From yourself.

You’d always thought you knew what passion was. The butterflies in your stomach when Kate laughed that carefree way. The heat that crept up your cheeks when Sharon brushed her fingers along your arm while talking. You’d thought those feelings were intense, overwhelming. That they were everything someone could want.

But now, with Wanda, all of that felt like a lie.

With Kate, there was a lightness, almost a game. She was charming, fun, but always kept a certain distance. With Sharon, it was different, closer, but even in the most intimate moments, there was a void you could never explain.

Wanda, however... Wanda was something else entirely. She was a storm.

It was as though, by her side, the entire world shrank, becoming small and irrelevant. When she looked at you with those deep green eyes, it was like all the air was sucked from the room, leaving you vulnerable, exposed, unable to think of anything but her.

You tried convincing yourself it was just another crush, like the others. Told yourself it would pass. That it was just her way, the intensity with which she lived, the way she commanded every space she occupied.

But every time she touched your hand, even casually, you knew you were lying to yourself. Her touch left a mark, a warmth no one else had ever ignited in you.

Kate and Sharon were soft breezes, but Wanda was a wildfire. One that consumed everything, leaving you breathless and trapped, and strangely, you didn’t want to escape.

It was more than physical attraction, more than anything you’d ever experienced. It was as if every fiber of your being cried out for her, as if your body and soul knew something your mind desperately tried to deny.

And that was what scared you.

With Kate, with Sharon, you had control. You could measure your feelings, fit them into neat, safe little boxes. But with Wanda, there was no control. No logic. There was only an all-consuming desire, a need that left you at her mercy, even when she had no idea of the chaos she caused within you.

You hated it. Hated the vulnerability, the intensity, the way she made you feel small and infinite all at once. But most of all, you hated that none of your previous loves came close to what you felt for Wanda.

Kate was comfort. Sharon, security. But Wanda? Wanda was the abyss.

And you were falling.

Until, after a few days, everything began to crumble.

Wanda watched you from across the room, her gaze fixed on you as you flipped through a book without actually paying attention to its content. The air was thick with a tension she couldn’t quite describe. Over the past few days, everything seemed wrong. Your fingers no longer intertwined with hers like before, and your laughter, which used to fill the house with life, now sounded restrained, almost mechanical.

It was subtle, but Wanda was a woman who noticed details. You avoided her eyes. Your hands fidgeted whenever she was near. When she tried to touch your face or hold your hand, you pulled away—just a small, almost imperceptible step. But to her, every tiny retreat was a blow that resonated deeply.

At first, she tried to rationalize it. "Maybe it's just stress." "She's been studying so much." "She's tired." But those excuses weren’t enough to silence the thoughts growing like weeds, poisoning her mind.

What if you were trying to leave her?

The thought hit her like lightning. The logic seemed absurd, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. You were distancing yourself to create emotional space. Maybe you’d realized how much she depended on you. Or worse: maybe you’d fallen in love with someone else.

Yelena?

Jealousy and paranoia began to taint every thought.

While you read in the living room, Wanda stood in the kitchen, washing a dish that had already been clean for at least two minutes. Her movements were methodical, but her mind was a storm. She could picture you pulling away, coming up with an excuse, inventing a reason to leave early. In her imagination, you were planning a way to disappear.

She clenched her eyes shut, the water running over the forgotten dish in her hands. No. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Y/n?” Her voice suddenly rang out in the room, sharp and weighted, making you look up from the book, startled.

“Yes?” you replied hesitantly.

Wanda dried her hands slowly on the dish towel, her movements controlled, almost rehearsed. But her gaze was an abyss of conflicting emotions.

“Why have you been avoiding looking at me?”

Your heart raced. It was impossible to lie to her, but the truth felt too heavy to lay between you both at that moment.

“I’m not…” you began, but stopped when you saw the intense gleam in her eyes.

“You are,” Wanda interrupted, walking slowly toward you. “You barely talk to me. You barely touch me. You used to look for my eyes in every room, and now you can’t even meet my gaze.”

“I just... I’ve got a lot on my mind. Studying for Yale has been taking up so much of my time.” Your voice wavered, and that only made Wanda’s suspicion grow.

Wanda’s steps were deliberate as she approached, her gaze so intense it made it hard to breathe. There was something about her posture—a mix of forced calm and simmering fervor—that set off every alarm in your body. She stopped in front of you, her presence radiating warmth and an energy that seemed to dominate any room she entered.

“I can fix that,” she said softly, her voice dripping with a cruel kind of sweetness, as though she were speaking to a child who didn’t know what was best for themselves.

“What...?” you asked, trying to sound steady, but your voice came out hesitant, almost a whisper.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes analyzing every detail of your face as if trying to uncover the secrets you so desperately tried to hide.

“You think I don’t notice?” Her voice was quieter now but heavy with emotion. “You’re building distance. It’s not just Yale. It’s not just stress.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your fingers nervously toying with the edge of the book in your lap.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/n,” she countered, the intensity in her voice making you flinch. She leaned down, her hands resting on the sides of the chair, caging you in place. “I can feel it when you’re pulling away. I can feel it when I’m losing you.”

Your heart raced. Losing you? That wasn’t how you saw it. You were trying to regain control over yourself, to put a barrier between the overwhelming love you felt for Wanda and the life you knew you needed to pursue. But she saw it as abandonment, as rejection.

“Wanda, I...” you started, but your voice faltered when her eyes burned even deeper into yours.

“You don’t need to go to Yale,” she said suddenly, her voice calm in a way that felt almost like a trap.

The statement hit you like a slap. “What?”

“Yale is a distraction. An excuse to pull away from me,” she continued, her hand sliding to your chin, holding it gently but firmly enough that you couldn’t look away. “You don’t need it. Everything you need is right here.”

“It’s not that simple, Wanda,” you replied, your voice almost a sob.

“Why not?” She arched an eyebrow, her expression flickering between frustration and hurt. “Are you trying to run away from me? Is that it? Am I not enough for you?”

“That’s not it!” you protested, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Then what is it? Tell me,” she insisted, her voice growing more desperate, even though her face still held the mask of control she fought so hard to maintain.

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. How could you explain to her that the problem wasn’t her, but the overwhelming love you felt? That you needed distance because if you stayed, you’d end up losing yourself completely in Wanda, sacrificing everything you dreamed of just to be consumed by her?

“I... I need something more than this,” you finally murmured, not brave enough to tell her the full truth.

“Something more than this?” she repeated, a note of disbelief in her voice. “I am something more than this. What we have is more than enough. You know that.”

Her fingers brushed your cheek, and your heart broke as you saw the conflict in her eyes—the fear of losing you and the need to hold on to you.

“Please, Wanda,” you whispered, a tear sliding down your face.

But she didn’t seem willing to relent. “If Yale means losing you, then you’re staying.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words pressing on you like a storm.

Once again, you sighed, exhausted—this entire argument was overstimulating your mind.

“Wanda, it’s not like that,” you began in a softer, wearier tone. “I can promise you, I don’t want to be away from you.” You took a chance, holding her hands in a gesture of comfort.

“Did I do something?” Wanda’s voice was firm, almost cold—but there was a trace of fear in her tone.

“No!” you exclaimed, though deep down, you knew she had—yet falling for Wanda had always felt inevitable. “You’ve done nothing but be kind and an amazing mommy.” You caught a glimmer in Wanda’s tearful eyes, as if that was all she needed to hear. “I just… I’m not ready to talk about it right now.” You exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Even though you hadn’t said everything, it felt like enough—and it was true.

“Are you sure… you’re not planning to leave?” The older woman’s voice wavered, the final words choking slightly.

Your eyes widened, startled by the intensity of the question. “Leave? Wanda, what are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t know?” Her voice grew louder, though still edged with danger. “You think I can’t tell when someone is building walls? I’ve seen it before. You’re trying to escape, aren’t you? Finding a way to leave me.”

“That’s not true!” You stood up, feeling desperation surge within you.

“Then look at me,” Wanda demanded, her voice thick with pain.

You tried, but the weight of her gaze—so full of hurt, fear, and something deeper you couldn’t identify—was too much. Your eyes darted away, and that was all Wanda needed.

She took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest as though shielding herself. “You can’t even look at me…”

“Wanda, please…”

“No!” Her anger finally erupted, though tears filled her eyes. “You’re mine! You know that! And I won’t let you run away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Her words lingered in the air, heavy with pain and possessiveness. Abruptly, she turned and left the room, the sound of the door slamming behind her thunderous against your heart.

Wanda stormed into the bedroom like a hurricane. Anger simmered beneath her skin, mixing with a pain so profound it felt suffocating. Her mind replayed the words spoken—and unspoken. The hesitation in your voice, the way you avoided her gaze, ate away at the control she fought so hard to maintain.

She’s leaving me… She’s pulling away… I can’t lose her.

It was then Vision entered, his usual serene expression almost irritatingly calm. He looked at her with concern, clearly sensing the charged tension in the air.

“Wanda,” he began gently. “Is something wrong? You seem… troubled.”

She stepped back, crossing her arms defensively. “It’s none of your business.”

Vision remained unfazed. He moved closer, his gaze analytical yet compassionate, trying to bridge the distance she was desperately trying to create.“Wanda, we’re partners. You can tell me what’s going on.”

“Partners?” She let out a bitter laugh, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Do you even understand what that means?”

Vision frowned, confusion evident on his face. He reached out to touch her, but Wanda recoiled, her gaze hardening.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, her voice low, almost dangerous.

“Wanda,” he tried again, stepping closer, but the look in her eyes stopped him.

“I said, don’t touch me!” Her voice echoed through the room, the air around her crackling with energy.

Vision hesitated for a moment but, in a move that seemed almost rehearsed, leaned in as if to kiss her. It was a gentle, almost hesitant motion, but he didn’t anticipate what happened next.

Before his lips could even come close, Wanda shoved him with force, using far more energy than necessary. Vision stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock as he steadied himself.

“You think a kiss is going to fix this?” Her voice was sharp, laced with contempt and fury. “You’re not what I want, Vision. You never were.”

He stood in silence, absorbing her words. But what hurt most wasn’t the content—it was the raw hatred in her eyes.

“You’re angry,” Vision finally said, his voice still controlled. “But rejecting help won’t solve anything.”

“I don’t need your help,” Wanda spat back, her tone icy. “I don’t want your touch. So do me a favor and leave.”

Vision hesitated, but the look in her eyes—a mix of rage and something far darker—compelled him to comply. He stepped back, nodded slowly, and left the room without another word, leaving Wanda alone with her fury, her anguish, and the obsessive whispers that filled her mind.

As soon as he was gone, she collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in her hands. The control she prided herself on was slipping through her fingers. But the only thing that mattered was you.

And if there was one thing Wanda Maximoff knew, it was that she would do anything to keep you by her side.

[...]

The library was as quiet as ever, the occasional sound of pages turning and muffled footsteps creating an almost meditative atmosphere. You were sitting at one of the tables near the classic literature section, your nervous fingers holding a book that, ironically, you weren’t managing to read. Your gaze stubbornly drifted to the woman on the other side of the room.

Wanda.

She looked completely at ease, browsing the shelves as if she owned the place. Her fingers glided over the spines of the books, and you couldn’t help but watch the grace in her every movement. It was intimidating how she seemed so natural, so in control, while you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions you could barely comprehend.

She noticed. Of course, she did.

When her green eyes met yours, you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the words you couldn’t even see. Your heart was racing, and a troublesome warmth crept up your face.

It didn’t take long before you heard her footsteps approaching. Your body tensed, every fiber of your being aware of her presence before Wanda pulled out the chair beside you and sat with that calmness that made her even more overwhelming.

"What are you reading? " Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but carried a playful tone that made you swallow hard.

"Oh…" you began, but the word died in your throat when you realized you had no idea what was in the book before you. "Just… something interesting."

Wanda arched an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer to you. Her scent, a mix of jasmine and something uniquely Wanda, invaded your senses.

— Something interesting, huh? — she repeated, her voice caressing each word like an invitation. — You seem distracted, little one.

You tightened your grip on the book, trying to maintain composure, but it was useless.

"I… I’m not distracted " you lied, your voice weaker than you intended.

Wanda chuckled, a low, delightful sound that made your stomach tighten.

"Then why are your cheeks so red?"

Your breath hitched, and you finally looked at her. That was a mistake. Wanda’s gaze was intense, full of something that made you feel small and exposed.

"They’re not" you tried to deny, but the frailty in your voice betrayed you.

She tilted her head, her eyes studying your face with an attention that made you shiver.

"You’re a terrible liar, you know that? "she said, with a smile that was both a tease and a promise.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your hands trembled slightly as you tried to focus on the book, but Wanda wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against yours as she slid the book away from you.

"Look at me." she ordered, her voice now firmer but still laced with a sweetness that was almost cruel.

You hesitated, but her magnetism was inescapable. Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

"Why are you so nervous?" Wanda asked, her hand now resting over yours.

You tried to answer, but your throat was dry. All you could do was shake your head.

"Oh, little one… " she whispered, leaning even closer, so close her lips were mere inches from yours. "You don’t have to be afraid of me."

But it wasn’t fear. It was something far more intense, more overwhelming.

And as if she knew exactly what you were feeling, Wanda smiled, a smile that completely disarmed you.

"Tell me what you want, darling," she murmured, her eyes locked onto yours.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill—not from sadness, but from pure desire, from longing.

"I… I don’t know " you finally whispered, feeling a weakness take over you.

Wanda chuckled again, but this time there was something darker in the sound.

"Don’t worry, little one. I know exactly what you need."

Wanda leaned in slowly, with the composure of someone who knew the impact of every movement. Her dark eyes were fixed on you, studying every nuance of your face, savoring the moment before the inevitable.

She lifted a hand, her fingers sliding along your face, tracing the curve of your jaw down to your chin. Her touch was both delicate and firm, sending shivers through your skin.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper, full of promises that made the air between you feel heavy.

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode. Unable to form words, you simply nodded, letting her see in your expression just how much you were hers.

Wanda’s smile widened, but there was an intensity in her eyes that almost took your breath away. She tilted her head, and you felt the heat of her breath brushing your lips.

"Good girl," she murmured, her words like an electric shock coursing through your body.

And then, she kissed you.

It was fire. The touch of Wanda’s lips on yours was burning, hungry, as if she were trying to convey everything she felt in a single gesture. There was no hesitation, only pure, raw desire.

Her fingers slid to the base of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened—more intense, more demanding. You clung to her shoulders, incapable of doing anything but matching her fervor, lost in the passion Wanda so effortlessly awakened in you.

When she finally pulled away, just enough to let you breathe, Wanda’s eyes were shining in a way you’d never seen before.

"That’s what you needed, isn’t it?" she asked, a smug smile playing on her lips as her thumb gently traced your lower lip. "To be taken firmly by mommy."

You didn’t respond, because the truth was clear. Wanda knew exactly what you needed, and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than for her to take you again.

Unexpectedly, the woman turns her body abruptly, leaving you on your back—and making you stick your ass out for her.

"You know, it's funny how you always wear that kind of skirt when you're here. Is this a sign for me to fuck you all over right here?" Wanda pulls your hair, making you squeak.

She pushes your head against the shelves, making you grimace in pain. She caresses the length of your skirt, reaching your precious spot.

" You're going to be quiet for me. If you moan, I'll stop." Her fingers finger your pussy covered by your panties.

"Mommy…" you whispered in a moan.

"Come on, little girl. Tell me what you're hiding so much…" she tried to manipulate you at all costs to find out what secrets you were hiding.

She fingered you—slowly. — it was almost cruel, painful. She squeezes the flesh of your ass, making you sink your teeth into her hand to stifle a scream.

The more Wanda's fingers moved in circles, the more your body gave in, involuntarily bucking toward her. Your surrender was total, almost like a primal instinct that dominated you completely, and Wanda seemed to absorb every second of it with almost cruel pleasure.

"Who owns you? Who do you belong to?" Her voice was a deep whisper, hot as an ember that set your self-control ablaze.

"It's y-you, mommy… it's you!" you managed to stammer, your voice trembling and full of submission.

A dangerous glint crossed Wanda's eyes, and the smile that appeared on her lips was at once one of approval and absolute dominance. Her fingers pulled your hair more firmly, tilting your head back, and you felt her breath brush against your sensitive skin.

"Exactly, little girl. Exactly…" she murmured, her voice so low that it seemed to slip straight into the deepest recesses of your mind. "A pet shouldn’t hide anything from its owner, should it?"

She slid her tongue along the arch of your ear, each movement slow and calculated, followed by delicate bites that made your body tremble.

You shook your head quickly, the lump in your throat growing as she took control of every part of you.

“Then tell me… tell me!” Her order came like a whip, her voice low and sharp, breaking down any resistance you might have had.

Here, in that sacred space, where knowledge and calm were the norm, this was an act of pure desecration. A conscious and deliberate sin, and yet the sense of danger made it all the more intoxicating.

Your heart was beating wildly, the sound echoing in your ears as tears welled up, blurring your vision. You weren't sure if it was because of the adrenaline running through your veins or the desperate need to release all the feelings you had been repressing.

“I-I don’t… I can’t!” You screamed, too loud, the confession filled with dread and desire.

And then, Wanda stopped.

The emptiness left by her touch was as painful as it was unexpected, but nothing was worse than the disapproving look she gave you. Her dark green eyes pierced you like a blade, and the frustrated moan that escaped your throat along with a tear.

“Bad girls don’t cum, Y/n.” Did she say it, staring at you with some kind of disappointment?

Her words echoed in your mind, as vivid as the sound of her voice on any given day. “Bad girls don’t cum.” It was such a simple phrase, but it was filled with something that ate away at you. The clear limit, the line you couldn’t cross.

And yet, you wanted more.

You wanted to hold her, kiss her, tell her how every moment with her made you feel alive and at the same time destroyed. You wanted to tell her that you loved the way she frowned when she was focused, or the way her voice changed when she became softer, more tender.

But how could you?

How could you look her in the eyes and tell her that you loved her when you knew she couldn’t, shouldn’t, love you back?

Wanda was an entire universe, but she wasn’t yours. She would never be.

You pressed your hands against your chest, as if you could hold the broken pieces of your heart together. But even as you did, the tears fell, hot and relentless.

You cried for her. For yourself.

For everything that could be, but would never be.

And as the pain grew, a part of you knew that you would continue to love Wanda in silence, because silence was all you had.

And loving in silence, though crushing, was still better than not loving her at all.

[...]

Hours later, after dinner and with Vision out of town for yet another meeting—you muster up enough courage to walk, albeit slowly, toward Wanda's room.

Sighing and gathering just a bit more bravery, you stepped inside. No knocking, no asking for permission. Perhaps this would land you in trouble with the disciplinarian Wanda, but all you found was a woman who looked worn and exhausted.

The soft glow of the lamp in Wanda’s room barely illuminated her figure, seated at the edge of the bed. Her shoulders were slumped, her hands folded in her lap. She didn’t look like the strong, dominant woman you knew. Not in that moment.

Your heart clenched at the sight of her like this. It felt wrong, out of place from everything you associated with Wanda. Her eyes were fixed on something invisible in front of her, lost in thoughts you knew were about you.

And then you realized, this distance you’d imposed wasn’t just hurting you—it was hurting Wanda too. She seemed so lifeless, as if something had drained her completely.

She heard your footsteps but didn’t lift her head immediately.

“You should be resting,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and low, lacking the usual authority that bent your will to hers.

“And you?” Your voice came out hesitant but filled with genuine concern.

She finally raised her eyes, and what you saw nearly made you step back. There was pain there, raw and exposed, a pain she rarely allowed anyone to see.

“I can’t,” she admitted. “Not when I feel like I’m losing you.”

Her words hung in the room like a heavy weight, each syllable laced with a vulnerability you hadn’t expected.

You took a step forward, then another, until you were close enough to feel her warmth, to hear the faint, uneven sound of her breathing.

“Wanda…” you began, but you didn’t know what to say. There were no words to mend the crack that was forming between the two of you.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady herself, but when she opened them again, there was a sheen of tears she refused to let fall.

“I care more than I should,” she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. “And that’s why it hurts so much to feel you pulling away. It’s like… like you’re ripping a part of me out.”

Your chest ached at her words. You knew she was hurting, but seeing the depth of her suffering was like taking a blow straight to the heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely steady.

“But you are,” she replied, firm but without anger. Just sadness. “Every step you take away from me… it’s like a knife I put in my own chest.”

You hesitated but finally lifted a hand to touch her face, your fingers trembling slightly as they met the warmth of her skin. Wanda closed her eyes at your touch, leaning into it involuntarily, as though seeking solace.

“I care too,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “More than I should. And that’s why this is so hard. I… I don’t know how to balance this.”

Wanda opened her eyes, and the intensity in her gaze made you shiver.

“Then don’t balance it,” she whispered, her fingers now holding your hand against her cheek. “Choose. Choose us. Choose to stay.”

The tears you’d been holding back began to fall silently down your cheeks. Part of you wanted to do just that. To throw everything aside and simply lose yourself in her arms. But another part, the part with dreams and ambitions, knew it wasn’t that simple.

“I want to,” you admitted. “But I’m scared. Scared of losing myself, scared of losing everything I’ve dreamed for myself.”

Wanda bit her lip, her eyes burning with emotion.

“And I’m scared of losing you,” she replied, her voice faltering for the first time.

The room fell into silence, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space.

You took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage that always seemed to elude you when you were near Wanda. The silence in the room was palpable, and her nearness made everything feel even more intense. Your fingers were still intertwined, the warmth of her skin anchoring you but also leaving you completely exposed.

“Wanda,” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

She turned her face toward you, her eyes locking with yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher. Concern? Curiosity? Hope?

“I…” Your throat felt tight, but you knew you had to say it. There was no running anymore, not when the weight of this truth was consuming you from the inside out.

“I am completely and utterly in love with you, Wanda Maximoff.”

The words left you like a sigh, heavy with months—perhaps years—of repressed emotion. The moment they left your lips, the world seemed to freeze.

Wanda’s face remained still for a moment, her eyes wide as if she was trying to process what she’d just heard. Her fingers reflexively tightened around yours, but then she pulled away, as though the warmth of your touch was too much to bear.

“Y/n…” she began, her voice hoarse, low, but brimming with emotion.

You watched her chest rise and fall as she took a deep breath, as if trying to steady the storm inside her. She stood up, putting a bit of space between you, her arms crossing in a defensive posture, but her gaze never wavered from you.

“Do you… have any idea what you just said?” Her voice was hesitant, almost a whisper, but there was something in it that begged for confirmation.

You swallowed hard and nodded, refusing to look away.

“I know what I’m saying. I tried to fight it, Wanda, but I can’t anymore. I love you.”

Wanda shook her head slowly, her lips slightly parted as though she were about to speak but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she let out a laugh—a low, disbelieving sound, devoid of any joy.

“My God…” She ran her hands over her face, as though trying to erase the confession, but you caught the glimmer in her eyes. They weren’t tears of sadness.

“You know this is…” Wanda began, but the sentence died on her lips, the weight of the words too heavy to bear. Her shoulders sagged slightly, as though all the strength she usually carried had drained away. When she lifted her gaze to meet yours again, there was something crushing in her expression: a mixture of restrained desire, guilt, and a pain that mirrored your own.

“I know…” you responded in a near whisper, your voice thick with emotion. Tears began to streak down your face, each one carrying the weight of everything you’d never had the courage to say before. And even now, you hated yourself for being unable to control what you felt.

Wanda exhaled, the sound light yet devastating. She hesitated for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was soft, as if every word was a confession she had never intended to make.

“I can’t give you what you want, Dekta,” she whispered, her tone filled with something closer to regret than denial. “But maybe… maybe I can give you what you need… because I always know what you need.”

The use of the nickname cut through you like a sharp blade. It was a reminder of the intimacy you shared, the trust and affection you cherished so deeply, but now it only made the moment more painful.

Her eyes stayed locked on yours, intense and inescapable, as though she was trying to communicate something words could never convey. The space between you seemed to shrink without either of you moving, until your faces were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with your own.

The atmosphere in the room grew thick, suffocating, as if the air around you was charged with electricity. Wanda’s heartbeat was so loud you could almost hear it, and your own chest felt like it was about to explode.

“Wanda…” you murmured, but the word came out broken, uncertain, as if you weren’t sure whether it was a warning or a plea.

“I shouldn’t,” she said, almost to herself, but she didn’t pull away. Her breathing was unsteady, her gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. “But you make me lose control, Dekta.”

You didn’t know who made the final move—if it was you, if it was her, or if it was some cruel twist of fate conspiring against you both. But suddenly, the space between you disappeared, and Wanda’s lips brushed yours in a feather-light, hesitant touch, laden with doubt and desire.

It lasted only a second before she abruptly pulled away, as if she’d been burned.

“This… can’t happen,” she said, breathless, more to herself than to you. “You need to understand that.”

“And why can’t it?” you asked, your voice trembling but filled with growing frustration. “Wanda, I can’t hide what I feel anymore. And you know you feel something too. Don’t try to deny it.”

She ran her hands over her face, clearly struggling against the tidal wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“I can’t deny it,” she finally admitted, her voice low and barely audible. “But admitting it doesn’t change anything. I have a life, a family. And you… you have a bright future ahead of you, Dekta. A future that shouldn’t be jeopardized by something as… complicated as this.”

“This?” you echoed, the hurt evident in your voice. “Is that what you call us?”

Wanda closed her eyes, as if shielding herself from the intensity of the moment.

“I don’t know what to call this,” she replied, finally opening her eyes, now glistening with unshed tears. “But I know I can’t be selfish enough to ruin you.”

For the first time, you saw Wanda completely vulnerable—the strong, unshakable woman you had always known seemed on the verge of crumbling.

Suddenly, you felt like you were losing Wanda, and the thought terrified you. It made your body tremble with fear, your mind shutting down all rational thought.

“Do you like it that much?” you broke the silence, turning to face Wanda with eyes shining with curiosity.

“Like what?” Wanda asked, her voice coming out softer than usual.

“Being my mommy,” you asked, your gaze intense enough to make Wanda shudder.

She tried to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t hide the flush rising up her neck.

“That’s… it’s… I… It’s complicated,” she began, but you just laughed—the Wanda Maximoff stammering in front of you, while your fingers slid lightly down her arm. “It’s not something I ever expected to enjoy.”

You leaned in closer. There was something different now. Your eyes carried a newfound intensity, and you acted as though you were the one in control. Your warm breath neared her, sending shivers down her spine.

“But you do like it, don’t you?” you whispered against her lips. Your tone sounded innocent, but Wanda knew how much of a teasing little brat you could be.

You moved even closer, your hands gently touching her flushed cheeks. “Your face is so warm.” Your fingers slid to her nape, and Wanda’s body visibly reacted to your touch. “Are you running a fever, Mommy?” Your voice carried a soft, needy whine, and Wanda felt herself clench involuntarily.

Wanda closed her eyes, her body acutely aware of the heat radiating from yours so close to her own. And in that moment, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as in control as she liked to believe.

Your eyes burned with a different kind of fire, reflecting the fevered warmth of Wanda’s skin.

“Aah…” Wanda let out a shaky whisper. She was affected—by you, your enigmatic eyes, and your captivating personality. And yet, you somehow gave her the sensation of control she so deeply cherished.“I like it more than I should…” she confessed.

Your proximity excited her, made her speak and act in ways she never imagined she would. You made her sin.

The shift in the room was undeniable. The weight of anguish had been replaced by a dark and dangerously palpable sexual tension.

“You like to play with mommy, don’t you?” Wanda asked, raising her voice.

Wanda slid her hands to your waist, her touch firm but full of affection that seemed to contrast with the fire in her eyes.

“You test me on purpose, and that’s okay, that’s fun.” She whispered, her voice deep and full of control. “But you must remember who’s in charge, Dorogaya.”

Before you could respond, Wanda kissed you fiercely with an urgent plea she’d never felt before. Your innocent teasing drove her crazy. Crazy to make you submit, to discipline you.

Wanda ran her nose along the length of your neck and inhaled the scent there—making you gasp.

“Hmm… are you so receptive, eager to please me?” Like a feline, she purred in your ear.

Wanda lowered one of her hands to touch your sex, and soon noticed the absence of panties.

“My naughty girl… You look so beautiful like this, all ready for me.” She mistreats your hardened nipples with her fingers. “Is it because you want this as much as I do, kitten?”

You let out a shaky, anxious sigh. “Wands…” Wrong!

The woman slaps you hard on your left cheek, making you dizzy.

“That’s not my name!” She growls, squeezing your neck and rubbing her pussy against your thigh.

“Sorry, Mommy…” You say, hearing Wanda moan in approval.

“Good girl.” She strokes your strands superficially. “You learn quickly, don’t you, Y/n?” Wanda’s hand runs over your reddened cheek, almost tenderly.

“Please!” You moan, rocking your hips toward the woman. It doesn’t matter how much you tried to be a brat. Behind four walls, you were nothing more than a dumb little whore for Wanda to use as she pleases.

“Oh. So my little one wants to play rough, huh?” You nod desperately. “Beg for Mommy’s touch! Beg and maybe I’ll give you what you want…”

Wanda’s voice comes out muffled, the woman slides her tongue between the valley of your breasts.

“Please, Mommy!” You hear the woman laugh sadistically, as she watches your weak figure swaying her hips.

“Hmm, sweet words…” Wanda’s voice drips with lust and you, entangled in the atmosphere, steal her lips. The contact is violent.

You bite the woman’s lower lip who groans at the sharp pain.

“Mine…” she murmurs in a deep voice of excitement. “You’re mine. and no matter how much time passes, that will never change…” Wanda’s palms grab her soft breasts, massaging them.

She pinches her nipples precisely, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. I leaned in even closer, my hot breath caressing your ear, and let out a command laden with intent: “And don’t you dare come until I tell you to, or I’ll make you regret begging for my touch.”

Wanda smiled with sadistic glee as she watched you writhe beneath her touch. Your body, so sweet and treacherous, gave away every hidden desire even as you tried to resist, your attempts so weak they were almost adorable.

A wicked smile curved her lips as Wanda leaned in, letting her own cool breath caress your ear.

“See, pet?” She whispered, purring in satisfaction. “Your little clit is so sensitive, so eager for attention… And who else could give it that but me?”

Wanda’s fingers danced over that little throbbing spot, her touch light as a feather. The woman watched the pleasure rip through her body like an electric shock, making you shudder in my hands.

"And it’s all mine to play with now…” Wanda murmured, her voice low and thick with possession. Each word was a soft growl, a threat wrapped in sensual promise.

The older woman began to circle your clit with cruel precision, unlike earlier—she applied just enough pressure to keep you teetering on the edge of oblivion—going and going and going to your edge. Your labored breathing, your soft moans, were music to her ears.

With her middle finger Wanda entered your pussy, stretching it just to use it. “Now, let’s see how long you can hold out before you break and beg for release…”

Her fingers never stopped their torturous dance, the rhythm relentless and deliciously teasing. Wanda pushed you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, but she always held on, keeping the tension at the perfect point, where pleasure and frustration mixed into something almost unbearable. You were her masterpiece, and Wanda was determined to savor every second of your surrender.

“Aahn… Please! This is torture!” You whimpered, causing her to let out a wicked laugh.

Wanda’s eyes gleamed with dark, wicked pleasure as she heard your desperate moan. Her fingers continued to tease your clit with repetitive, maddening movements. “The smell of her arousal is intoxicating,” she thought, inhaling deeply. The room was silent except for your panting breaths and the soft, wet sounds of her fingers on your clit.

The woman leaned in, her breath hot against your ear, and whispered,

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, darling?”

The woman’s words were a sensual challenge, a promise of pleasure and torment as she continued to circle your sensitive core, always just out of reach. Your skin was so soft, so warm beneath my touch, Wanda always marveled, savoring the contrast with her own cold flesh.

“You want me inside you so badly, don’t you? Want me to claim that tight little pussy as my own?”

Wanda’s voice was a dark, seductive whisper, her tone dripping with forbidden desire as she finally plunged two fingers into your quivering, tight opening.

“But first…”

The woman’s fingers began to pump in and out of the slick channel, her touch rough and commanding as she stretched and filled you. You’re so responsive, so eager to please, she thought—a wave of predatory satisfaction coursing through her body.

“You have to earn it, baby… show Mommy how good you can be…” The words sounded like an order, a sensual threat that left no room for refusal as she continued to thrust her fingers into you, each thrust deeper and harder than the last.

Part of Wanda wanted to devour you completely, feeling a tug of internal conflict. But prolonging your pleasure… and hers… is so much more satisfying.

Wanda could feel your inner walls contracting around her long fingers, your body shaking with need. The sound of your moans and whimpers filled the air, a symphony of desire that only fueled Wanda’s own dark hunger.

“That’s right, my sweet kitten…” she growled, her voice low and husky with lust. “Let me hear how much you want this… Let me hear how much you love me.”

As she continued to drive you wild, Wanda could not help but revel in the power she had over you. The overwhelming satisfaction coursing through your mature body was almost as intoxicating as the thought of tasting your blood.

You raved, sticking your tongue out, and driving Wanda wild as well—her own hand burning just to slap that little face of yours.

“Fuck me, Mommy!” she growled at me, as she rubbed her intimacy against my fingers. “I… I can be good! I will be good! I love you sooo much…!” You screamed the last part, not even remembering that the twins slept in the room down the hall.

Wanda’s body shook in triumph—as if she had regained her power by hearing you say that, by seeing you beg. When she heard your plea, your words were sweet, seductive music to her. With a low, guttural growl, the woman pulled her fingers from her dripping cunt, a trail of slick arousal coating Wanda’s skin as she brought her hand to her mouth.

“Mmm, such a good girl…” The woman’s voice was a dark, approving purr as she licked her essence from her fingers, the taste of her desire fueling Wanda’s own lust.

Determined, Wanda stands up, walking to her own closet and looking for a specific drawer. A hidden drawer locked with a key—her eyes widening at the amount of toys stored there.

“Now, let’s see if you can handle Mommy…” Without waiting for an answer, Wanda positioned herself between your thighs, the cold, hard length pressing against your soaked entrance.

“Hold on tight, baby…” Wanda warns sensually as she slowly thrusts into your suffocating heat, inch by inch claiming your tight, throbbing channel as her own.

“Mommy’s going to ride you hard, baby… and you’re going to accept every inch like the good little slut you are…” Entering the strap-on slowly, noticing you shudder—not being used to the size, Wanda stops her movements and only returns when she sees you nod positively.

The grip around your waist tightens as she feels your body tremble and convulse beneath her; The screams of pain and pleasure were music to your ears. The thrusts grew stronger, each one deeper and more intense than the last, as Wanda claimed your body with a primal, animalistic urgency she had never experienced before.

“That’s it, baby… take Mommy’s cock…” The woman’s voice came out as a guttural growl, her breathing ragged as it thrust in and out of your stretched, slick channel, the sound of flesh slapping against the strap echoing through the room.

“You’re mine now… all mine…” Her hands dug into your hips as she moved with reckless abandon, driven by a hunger that could never be sated.

“So fucking tight… so fucking perfect…” The praise was dark and savage, each word punctuated by the relentless thrusts of Wanda’s hips as she thrust into you, lost in the exquisite sensation of claiming your little girl’s body once and for all.

“Mo-mommy! It’s too much!” I can’t take it!” She roared, and she gripped the flesh of your ass hard in response.

Her hand came down with a resounding slap, the sound echoing around the room as her palm connected with the firm flesh of your ass. Her fingers dug in, kneading the reddened skin as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Oh, but you can, baby… you can take it…” The promise was seductive, a dark and wicked encouragement as she continued to pound into you with brutal, unrelenting force. “Mommy’s almost…” The woman’s hips snapped forward, pushing the entire length even deeper into your quivering channel, the feel of your body clenching around her like a vice driving Wanda wild with lust.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, baby? I’m going to soak Mommy’s cock with your sweet juices…” Wanda’s breath was hot against your skin, a husky, commanding purr as she whispered her own filthy desires, each word a sensual threat that left no room for refusal. “Now, don’t make Mommy wait any longer… Cum for me, baby… NOW!”

Watching the female body in front of her tremble in a powerful orgasm, She noticed your lost gaze, like a trance. Wanda pulls out of you and as she approaches, she sees you lying there, vulnerable and surrendered—your eyes unfocused as if you were floating in another dimension. Your chest rises and falls in an irregular rhythm, your hands rest at your sides, your fingers slightly curled. It’s a state that Wanda knew only superficially, but with you, it seemed even more intense.

“Is everything okay, bunny?” Wanda asked softly, sliding her fingers along the contour of your face, tracing your jaw until they reach your neck.

You don’t answer right away. Your eyes slowly fix on Wanda, as if she was returning from a distant place.

“It's… a lot.” Her voice came out softly, almost inaudible, and you tried to force a smile, but your expression revealed the depth of the moment you were going through.

The woman leaned in, maintaining eye contact with you, and let her hand glide through your sweat-drenched hair. It was an almost mechanical gesture, yet it seemed rooted in something bigger.

“Hey, take a deep breath for me.” Wanda's voice sounded firm, yet she didn’t lose the softness she knew you needed right now.

You closed your eyes and obeyed, struggling to draw in air before slowly releasing it. You repeated the process a few times as Wanda stroked your hair, murmuring comforting words.

“Good girl.” The woman said, seeing the slightest hint of a smile at the corners of your lips.

As Wanda watched you begin to recover, she felt something deep and primal stir within her. The way you trusted her, how you surrendered completely, was proof of something she could barely name, yet it made her feel invincible and vulnerable at the same time.

She continued to stroke your hair with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of what had just happened. Her eyes traced every detail of your face — the skin glistening with sweat, your lips slightly parted, the calm, almost ethereal expression that now replaced the previous turmoil.

“Are you okay, Dekta?” she repeated, though the answer was already there, evident in your calmer breathing and the way your body began to relax under her touch.

"Yeah… I think so," you replied weakly, still not opening your eyes.

Wanda tilted her head, a small smile dancing on her lips as her hand continued the slow, soothing motion in your hair. She could feel the contrast between the warmth of your body and the gentle breeze coming through the window. Everything seemed perfectly in sync, as if the universe had paused for this moment between you two.

When you finally opened your eyes, you met her gaze, a mix of care, possession, and something you couldn’t quite identify. There was something deeper, something that made your heart leap in your chest.

"You need to rest now," Wanda said in a tone that was both an order and a comfort. She brushed back the strands of hair that had stuck to your forehead, her touch as delicate as a feather.

You tried to sit up, still trembling, but Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, preventing you from moving away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her voice was firm, but there was no harshness—only determination.

"I… to my room," you said hesitantly, your gaze still uncertain, trying to understand what she wanted.

Wanda leaned in closer, her eyes locking onto yours like an unbreakable spell.

"I want you to lie here and sleep in my arms," she declared, her voice low and heavy with intensity. It wasn’t a request; it was a decision.

Your heart raced again, and for a moment you were at a loss for words. It felt wrong; all of this was wrong, but there was something in her tone, something in the way she looked at you, that made any resistance melt away.

You simply nodded, unable to argue, and let Wanda guide you back down onto the bed. She settled you in with almost reverent care, positioning herself beside you and pulling your body against hers.

As you felt her warmth surrounding you, the familiar scent enveloping her, it was as if all doubts and fears dissolved for a brief moment. Wanda's arms tightened around you, firm yet comfortable, and her hand returned to your hair, continuing the slow, reassuring gesture.

“Sleep, bunny,” she murmured, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could finally rest.

Holding you in her arms, as if you were her most precious stone—Wanda let her hands glide along the contours of your face, watching your breath settle into the calm of sleep. Her hands trembled for a moment before they closed into fists, the knuckles turning white. She stared at her reflection in the mirror next to the bed—the deep, shadowed eyes revealing an internal battle that seemed endless.

You loved her. You. Loved her.

The thought reverberated in her mind like a dissonant melody—wrong and delightful at the same time. There was no denying it: she felt alive like she hadn't in a long time. There was something dark in knowing that, even with all the lines that should never be crossed, you had fallen for her, given in to the magnetic force that existed between you.

And Wanda liked it. Liked it a lot.

Guilt pulsed through her veins, like a poison that burned slowly. She knew how wrong it was to feel this way, knew she should push you away, protect you from herself and the implications of what you had confessed. But at the same time, the feeling of being loved so intensely, so absolutely, awakened something in her she didn’t know still existed.

Vision had never looked at her that way. He had never pronounced her name as if it were sacred. He had never shown signs of wanting everything from her. But you? You looked at her as if Wanda were the sun and the only thing in the sky worth admiring.

And it was intoxicating.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to sort through the chaos in her mind. A dark satisfaction crawled through her chest, like a shadow that refused to fade away. She hadn’t done anything on purpose to earn her feelings—or at least, that’s what she told herself. But deep down, she knew there was something terribly selfish about all of it.

She liked being your weakness. Your downfall. Your redemption.

A brief, almost imperceptible smile curved her lips. It wasn’t a smile of pure happiness, but something more complex, more twisted. As if the weight of the wrong choices she hadn’t yet made was already starting to materialize, but the pleasure of being desired outweighed every ounce of remorse.

She opened her eyes, staring at her reflection again. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Wanda Maximoff,” she murmured to herself, her voice low, almost inaudible. “And you’re enjoying it more than you should.”

She couldn’t have you. She knew that. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to be desired. It didn’t mean that, in her darkest moments, she didn’t revel in the idea of having marked you in a way that no one else would ever be able to erase.

“I’m a monster,” she whispered to the mirror, the smile fading. And maybe it was true. But for now, what mattered was that you loved her. Against all odds. Against everything that was right.

And that was enough to feed the fire burning inside her—even if it meant she’d end up consuming herself in the process.

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