#this was the only gif i could find of one lol

[xjulixred45x]

Imagine an adult Yuu who arrived at Twisted Wonderland PREGNANT.

This could be considered part of the Yuu! Parent variables (?). Perhaps the poor woman was returning from an early ultrasound (at 2 or 3 months old) when the black carriage hit her, scaring her to death upon her appearance in TWST. She must have thought she was about to be sacrificed to a cult.

I can definitely imagine the Squad characters being much more understanding/soft of this Yuu, especially Ace and Deuce. Ace wouldn't be so malicious at the beginning of the game (I'd like to believe that not even he would be capable of laughing in the face of a pregnant woman), and instead feels obvious guilt because Crowley has entrusted her with a mediocre job.

Deuce, my sweet boy, will set off all his alarm bells. He's the most outraged that the headmaster is forcing a pregnant woman to work ALONE, and if his dorm leader hadn't been so strict in the beginning, he definitely wouldn't let Yuu sleep in a dorm that's falling apart. Has Crowley gone crazy? Does he have no shred of decency?!

Grim probably thought at first that Yuu had eaten her baby, haha, and had to receive the wonderful "birds and the bees" lecture (much to Ace's amusement at Grim's horrified reactions). Let's just say Grim now insists on standing sentry in case Yuu decides to do anything too "dangerous for the baby" (humans are fragile even with magic; he has to take care of his minion!).

Jack, bless him, also tries to help make the ramshackle dorm safer alongside Epel, whether by removing the most rotten parts of the structure, helping clean, assisting with Yuu's errands, etc. Especially when she starts showing more of her bump.

GOD, IMAGINE THE DORM LEADERS!

Riddle was probably the only one who didn't realize Yuu was pregnant until the events of the Savanaclaw episode. And when he found out he almost seriously hurt a PREGNANT WOMAN? Trey and Cater practically had to keep him from banging his head against a wall for half an hour out of embarrassment and shame. He also drafted a LONG apology for Yuu, which was delivered with a giant strawberry cake (and one of those exaggerated bows I KNOW Riddle would do).

Thanks to his mom (for once in his life), Riddle is the most knowledgeable about useful pregnancy stuff! Whenever Yuu goes to Heartslabyul, she has access to calcium- and iron-rich meals (prepared by Trey), and teas that boost her immune system and combat morning sickness. Riddle is careful not to give her things like black tea or rosemary tea, knowing they could have negative effects (if it were up to Riddle, Yuu probably wouldn't walk unaided).

Leona is much more respectful to a female Yuu, we know that, but I don't think he has the energy to be rude, or be especially , well, Leona, to a PREGNANT woman. This ends up bringing out a side of Leona no one thought existed: an almost delicate side. Sure, he's still lazy and sarcastic, but he doesn't say no to Yuu when she asks for help with something, whether it's bringing something to her dorm or dealing with a difficult situation. he dosent even COMPLAIN. what did he do to the real Leona??

We all know Crowley doesn't give Yuu and Grim enough money to live comfortably, let alone considering they could soon have a new member on ramshakle. Yuu is now surprised to find extra money in the dorm after certain visits. Not that he'll admit it, but it makes everyone feel more at ease.

Again, I want to believe Azul wouldn't be capable of leaving a pregnant woman homeless, at the very least he offered her a place to stay in Octavinelle. It turns out the twins (especially Floyd) quickly took a liking to Yuu.

A cute scenario I came up with, when Yuu already has a prominent baby bump, is that she tries to joke with the Leechs that the nickname "shrimpy" doesn't suit her anymore, and that maybe they should change it to "whaley."

AND FLOYD IS LIKE, "Why are you saying that, Koebi-chan? :( Is someone calling you that? Come on, tell me :)"

I think the Octavinelle folks genuinely don't know how human pregnancy works, so they're surprisingly gentle and caring with Yuu (even when the baby is born, I can see Monster Lounge having a kids' menu for them).

Kalim, my god, Jamil is going to have to stop him from giving Yuu a completely equipped nursery for both her and the baby. Ironically, the one who's the most normal about pregnancy (the guy has 30 younger siblings, so he KNOWS about these things) and genuinely knows some home tricks that helped his mother when she was pregnant.

offers to organize a baby shower/gender reveal party! The bad thing is that it ends up being a whole festival with all of Scarabia participating. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

There's no way Yuu, who's already 6-7 months along, will wear the school uniform simply for comfort, so if you need help finding comfortable AND cute clothes, Vil will gladly help! Obviously, he's not as strict or harsh with Yuu due to the circumstances, but he still wants the best for her. Who knows, maybe they can pick out some clothes for the baby in advance.

Idia is afraid to get close to Yuu, not only because of social anxiety, but because of the thought that he might "ruin" the baby in some way. He needs a lot of support from Ortho and Yuu to even allow himself to have normal physical contact with Yuu, and just as he does, the baby kicks. Idia's heart is gone (everyone wants to feel the kicks now, especially Ace, Floyd, and Malleus).

They probably use some STYX or Ortho equipment for some of the baby checks, and he even gives an approximate due date, which feels bittersweet. Even if everyone does their best, Yuu still hoped to have his baby at home, but he doesn't complain when the boys do all this for them. It feels like Home.

Malleus is another who doesn't fully understand human pregnancy and is incredibly intrigued. It doesn't help that Lilia's answers to his questions are even more confusing, so he ends up going straight to the source of his intrigue, Yuu. Malleus is completely mesmerized the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat, completely fascinated by what human life is like compared to fairies/dragons.

That said, he proceeds to "scold" the baby when it kicks Yuu for "hurting its mother," not quite understanding the concept, but he has the spirit. Malleus is very scared of the idea of childbirth once he's educated on it (WHERE will the baby come out? HOW!?) and will probably try to improve his healing magic SOLELY because of that.

All I can say is that if the baby is born in Twisted Wonderland, they'll have a wide array of adoptive siblings, father figures, babysitters, and weird and eccentric uncles who will take very good care of them and its mother. So you can rest easy.

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Imagínate una Yuu adulta que llego a Twisted Wonderland estando EMBARAZADA

Esto podría considerarse parte de las variables de Yuu! Parent(?)Talvez la pobre mujer estaba regresando de un ultrasonido de los primeros meses (2 o 3 meses) cuando el carruaje negro le paso por encima, dándole un susto de muerte cuando apareció en TWST. La pobre mujer debio pensar que estaba a punto de ser sacrificada a un culto.

Definitivamente puedo ver a los personajes del Squad mucho mas suaves con esta Yuu, especialmente Ace y Deuce. Ace no sería tan malicioso al principio del juego (digo, quiero creer que incluso el no seria capaz de reírse en la cara de una mujer embarazada) y más bien siente una obvia lastima de que Crowley le haya metido en un trabajo mediocre.

Deuce, mi dulce niño, le disparan todas las alarmas. Es el más obviamente indignado de que el director haga trabajar a una mujer embarazada SOLA, y definitivamente si su líder de dormitorio no fuera tan estricto al principio, no dejaría que Yuu durmiera en un dormitorio que se cae a pedazos ¿¡que acaso Crowley perdió la cabeza, no tiene el mínimo de decencia?!

Grim probablemente al principio pensó que Yuu se había comido a su bebe lol, y le tuvieron que dar la maravillosa charla de las “aves y las abejas” (para diversión de Ace por las reacciones horrorizadas de Grim). Solo digamos que ahora Grim insiste en actuar como centinela en caso de que Yuu se le ocurra hacer algo demasiado “peligroso para él bebe” (los humanos son frágiles aun si magia ¡tiene que cuidar a su secuaz!).

Jack, bendito sea, también trata de ayudar en hacer el dormitorio destartalado mas seguro junto a Epel, ya sea quitando las partes mas podridas de la estructura, ayudando a limpiar, ayudar con los mandados de Yuu, etc. Especialmente cuando empieza a mostrar mas la panza de embarazada.

DIOS, IMAGINENSE LOS LIDERES DE DORMITORIO.

Riddle probablemente fue el único que no llego a darse cuenta que Yuu estaba embarazada hasta los eventos del capítulo de Savanaclaw ¿y cuando se enteró que casi lastimo gravemente a una MUJER EMBARAZADA? Trey y Cater tuvieron que físicamente detenerlo de que se golpeara la cabeza contra la pared por media hora por la vergüenza, también redacto un documento LARGUISIMO de disculpa a Yuu, que fue entregado con una gran tarta de fresa (y una de esas reverencias exageradas que SE que Riddle haría).

¡Gracias a su madre (por una vez en la vida), Riddle es el que sabe más de cosas útiles para el embarazo! Cada vez que Yuu va Heartslabyul, tienen acceso a comidas nutritivas en calcio y hierro (hechas por Trey), Tés beneficiosos para el sistema inmune y para combatir las náuseas matutinas, aparte de que Riddle es cuidadoso de no dar cosas como Te negro o romero, sabiendo que podrían tener malos efectos (si fuera por Riddle, Yuu probablemente no caminaría sin ayuda).

Leona es bastante más respetuoso con una Yuu mujer, eso lo sabemos, pero no creo que tenga la energía para ser grosero o especialmente, bueno, Leona, con una mujer EMBARAZADA. Esto termina sacando un lado que nadie creía que existía de Leona, un lado casi delicado. Claro, sigue siendo perezoso y sarcástico, pero no le dice que no a Yuu cuando le pide ayuda en algo, ya sea llevar algo a su dormitorio o con una situación difícil.

Todos sabemos que Crowley no da ni de lejos el dinero suficiente para que Yuu y Grim vivan bien, mucho menos pensando que PODRIAN TENER UN NUEVO INTEGRANTE PRONTO, por lo que Yuu ahora se sorprende después de ciertas visitas, aparece algo de dinero extra en el dormitorio. No es como que lo vaya a admitir, pero todos están más tranquilos de esa forma.

De nuevo, quiero creer que Azul no sería capaz de dejar sin hogar a una mujer embarazada, aunque sea le ofrecería una estancia en Octaville, ya que, además, resulta que los gemelos (especialmente Floyd) se encariñaron con Yuu muy rápido.

Un escenario lindo que se me ocurrió, ya cuando Yuu tiene una panza de embarazada prominente, es que ella trata de bromear con los Leech de que el apodo “camarón” ya no le queda bien, y que a lo mejor tendrían que cambiarlo a “ballena”

Y FLOYD ESTA COMO “¿Por qué dices eso Koebi-chan?  ¿alguien te está diciendo asi? Vaaaamos, dímelo ”

Creo que genuinamente los de Octaville no saben muy bien cómo funciona el embarazo terrestre, por lo que son sorprendentemente gentiles y cuidadosos con Yuu (incluso cuando nace el bebe, puedo ver el Monstre Louge teniendo un menú infantil para ellos).

Kalim, dios mio, Jamil tendrá que detenerlo de regalarle a Yuu absolutamente toda una guardería completamente equipada tanto para ella como para el bebe. Irónicamente el que es el mas normal al respecto del embarazo (el man tiene 30 hermanos menores, el SABE de estas cosas) y genuinamente sabe algunos trucos caseros que le sirvieron a su madre cuando ella estaba embarazada.

¡ofrece organizar un baby shower/ fiesta de revelación de genero! Lo malo es que termina siendo todo un festival en el que participa todo Scarabia. Pero hey, la intención es lo que cuenta.

No hay forma en la que estando ya en los 6-7 meses Yuu use el uniforme de la escuela por simple cuestión de comodidad, por lo que si necesitan ayuda en encontrar ropa cómoda Y bonita ¡Vil le ayudara con gusto! Obviamente no es tan estricto ni duro con Yuu debido a las circunstancias, pero sigue queriendo lo mejor para ella. Quien sabe, talvez puedan elegir algo de ropa para él bebe de adelantado.

Idia tiene miedo de acercarse a Yuu, no solo por la ansiedad social, sino por la idea de que podría “arruinar” al bebe de alguna forma. Necesita mucho apoyo de Ortho y Yuu para siquiera permitirse tener contacto físico con Yuu de forma normal, y justo cuando lo hace, el bebe patea. A Iidia se le salió el alma del cuerpo (ahora todos quieren sentir las pataditas, sobretodo Ace, Floyd y Malleus).

Probablemente usan algo de equipo de STYX o Ortho para algunos controles del bebe, incluso el da una fecha aproximada de nacimiento, lo cual da una sensación agridulce. Aun si todos hacen su mejor esfuerzo, Yuu esperaba poder tener a su bebe en casa, pero no se queja cuando los chicos hacen todo esto por ellos.

Malleus es otro que no entiende el embarazo humano completamente y esta increíblemente intrigado, no ayuda que as respuestas de Lilia a sus preguntas son aún más confusas, por lo que termina lleno a la fuente de su intriga, Yuu. Malleus se queda completamente hipnotizado la primera vez que escucha los latidos del bebe, totalmente fascinado por cómo es la vida humana en comparación a las hadas/dragones.

Eso sí, procede a “reprender” al bebe cuando patea a Yuu por “lastimar a su madre”, no entendiendo bien el concepto, pero tiene el espíritu. A Malleus le asusta mucho la idea del parto una vez que se educa al respecto (¿Qué el bebe saldrá DE DONDE? ¡¿COMO!?) y probablemente trate de mejorar en magia curativa UNICAMENTE por eso.

Solo puedo decir que si el bebe nace en Twisted Wonderland, tendrá un vasto abanico de hermanos adoptivos, figuras paternas, niñeros, tíos raros y extravagantes que lo cuidaran muy bien a él y su madre. Así que pueden estar tranquilos.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[demonpiratehuntress]

you don't say 'i love you' back (Straw Hats + Ace, Law, Kaku)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - they are deeply offended by your transgression (the title)

warnings - none

ZORO

Zoro is not one to use these words lightly. He has a very hard time saying them, especially because it's a relatively new feeling to him. So whenever he does say it, it's always in a private, meaningful little moment shared only between the two of you.

Though sometimes, he gets frustrated when you put yourself in unnecessary danger in a difficult encounter, and in a rare show of vulnerability and affection, he might tell you he loves you in front of the crew.

"You're lucky I love you," he'll murmur in your ear, though the rest of the crew pretty much already knows what he said.

Today you were in a particularly playful mood, despite the events that had just transpired. You pulled back and smiled up at him, kissing his cheek before turning and walking away.

Dead silence.

"(Name)," Zoro called, his voice a low growl. He followed you, reaching out and grabbing your forearm to stop you.

"Yes?" You turned to face him, smiling innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me," he grumbled, "You didn't say it back."

"I didn't say what back?" You asked, feigning confusion.

"(Name)."

His gaze was intense, something flashing in his eyes that you'd never seen before - fear or panic, you couldn't decide which. To everyone else, he looked fine, but you could see his nervousness.

You promptly started laughing, your eyes filled with affection and a softness reserved just for him, "I was just kidding. I love you too, Zoro." You tried to kiss him, only to meet the palm of his hand.

"For that, you don't get kisses," he turns your usual punishment for him on you, leaving you gaping after him as he walks away, smirking.

"WHAT?"

ACE

Ace tells you he loves you about five hundred times a day. He never used to, in fact he was hesitant to in the early days of your relationship, but now two years in he cannot go five minutes without making sure you know he loves you.

You were a little late to dinner that evening, and when you got there most of the tables were full. You found your raven-haired boyfriend easily, not by his hat or his shirtless figure, but by the sound of his laughter.

You took your seat beside him, feeling his lips on your cheek not even five seconds later. You smiled at him and started eating, offering him a portion of your food after he guzzled down his own.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he grinned, "I love you."

Trying your best to hold back laughter, you just smiled at him and leaned against the table, your head propped up by your arm.

Every muscle of his seemed to tense, his entire body going completely rigid. Like still-as-a-statue rigid. Then he slowly, very slowly, swallowed his food and turned to look at you.

You weren't angry. You weren't sad. So surely he couldn't have done anything wrong? He started pouting, looking like you'd just kicked him.

"What's wrong, Ace?" You asked, worried, still trying not to laugh.

He let out a strange sound, something between a choked sob and a gasp, his shoulders slumping, "You hate me."

"I do not hate you!" You protested.

"Yes, you do!" He cried dramatically, holding a hand over his heart. "This is the worst day ever. My nightmare has finally come true. You don't love me anymore!"

Finally, you couldn't hold it back any longer and you burst out laughing, finding his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "Ace, I was kidding. I love you too, you big baby."

"Baby?!" He gasps, his pout only growing, though he looked relieved. "Now you've done it!"

He lurched forward and your eyes widened as you realised what he was about to do, but by then it was too late. His hands were on you, fingers tickling your sides and everywhere he knew you were sensitive. Your laughter filled the air, but he didn't stop, even as you tried to wriggle away.

"Aceeeee!" You wheezed. "Stop!"

"Nope," he grinned, "This is what you get for almost stopping my heart." And he continued to tickle you, until your stomach was sore.

LAW

Law only says those words in private. He prefers to keep the more intimate parts of your relationship just between yourselves, because the crew absolutely does not need to know how soft he has gotten for you.

But some days he lets it slip when someone else is around, usually after a difficult encounter with another crew or a mission or just exploring an island. He'd missed you being close to him, though he would never admit that out loud, and he feels relief when he finally sees you.

"I love you," came the quiet, affectionate murmur in your ear as you met up with him back on the Polar Tang, the rest of the crew still yet to arrive.

You were so exhausted, you just smiled and kisses his cheek, thinking he already knew what your response would be. He stiffened, his eyes scanning your face.

"What?" You asked, frowning at his unreadable expression.

"Nothing."

Then he turned and walked away, externally looking like nothing was wrong but internally mulling over what he had done to you to deserve such a cold response. Or, actually, no response. A few seconds later, you realised your mistake and ran after the brooding captain.

"Law!"

You burst into his room, watching as he glanced up at you once and then looked back down at his work. You sighed, making your way over and stopping behind him, hands hesitantly resting on his shoulders.

"I love you too."

"Hmm, do you now?" He asked, and you, only you, could hear the very subtle insecurity and vulnerability in his voice.

"Yes," you leaned down, planting a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger, "I'm sorry. I was just a little tired. I didn't mean to ignore your words."

Law seemed satisfied with this, because he stood up and gently herded you towards his bed, "Sleep."

"Law-"

"I know," his lips tugged up slightly, into a rare smile, before, "Sleep."

You surprised him, a rare occurrence, by grabbing his hand and pulling him into bed beside you. You curled up to him, letting out a content sigh as your body tangled with his, his body warmth seeping through your clothes.

KAKU

Kaku tells you he loves you several times a day, only because he doesn't want you to forget. Sometimes, when he's overly concerned about how much you've spoken to Lucci, or how bravely another guy is staring at you, he pulls you into his arms and murmurs those words into your hair, then after each kiss he plants on your forehead, cheeks and lips.

"I love you."

Once again, you found yourself in the embrace of the tall, long-nosed swordsman. He was inhaling the scent of your shampoo, a scent he had complimented on various occasions. You were feeling particularly mischievous today, so you didn't respond.

His reaction was instantaneous.

His arms tightened around you, his words becoming more frantic, "(Name), I love you. I love you. I love you so so much." He pressed even more kisses to your face.

Again, no response.

He pulled away, frowning as he looked down at you, "Did I do something wrong?"

You smiled up at him, "Nope! Why?"

He sighed dramatically, "Well, it looks like the time has finally come for me to wedge my swords into my own heart."

"Exactly-WHAT?!" You cried, your eyes wide.

"My girlfriend doesn't love me anymore," he feigned sadness, his eyes growing big and round, "I can't handle life without her. it's meaningless."

"Um, hello???" You panicked, "What are you talking about??"

"You were my first and only love, (Name)," he smiled sadly, "And I wish you all the best."

"Kaku, stop!" You panicked, practically smacking the sword out of his hand. Then he burst out laughing, and your eyes narrowed. "Why are you laughing?"

"You should have seen your face!" He grinned, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Hey! That was not funny!" You crossed your arms.

"You started it," he leaned in, his arms slowly wrapping around your waist. "Shall we try that again? I love you."

"I love you too."

"Much better."

LUFFY

He doesn't even notice.

Luffy gets so caught up in other things sometimes that he forgets to tell you he loves you, and he forgets to have special, one-on-one time with you alone. You never minded it, though, you had long accepted Luffy for who he was.

So pranking him usually doesn't work.

You usually show him that you love him by bringing him food and taking care of him throughout the day, so today you decided to just not care - to see how he reacts.

That he noticed.

When it became apparent during the afternoon that you were not coming to find him with a snack you had especially prepared for him, he started to worry.

"Where's (Name)?" He asked the first Straw Hat he saw.

"Oh, I think she's sleeping," Usopp told him. "She's in her room."

Luffy was off before Usopp even finished his sentence. You were usually up and about, so staying in your room was something odd for you to do. When the captain burst into your room, you started laughing as you looked up at him.

"(Name)!" He broke out into a wide grin, laughing even though he wasn't sure what the joke was.

"Honestly, Luffy, I'm offended," you teased him more, "You took so lomg to notice I was gone!"

"I'm sorry (Name)," he practically jumped onto your bed with you, "I just thought you were late today."

"Hm." You wanted him to say it first this time, to see if he really noticed.

"I love you!" He grinned, wrapping his arms around you. He thought that might make you feel better.

"Hm."

He frowned, then whined, "(Nameeeeee)!"

You giggled, "I love you too, Luffy."

SANJI

It might have been something akin to a crime to play this prank on this man. You already know beforehand he's going to be dramatic about it, but the crew's just recovered from Enies Lobby and you're pissed off about his reaction to that CP9 agent, Khalifa. So again, you remind yourself that maybe he needs a little scare now and then.

"(Nameeeeee)!" You hear him call for you one sunny afternoon, as everyone is lounging and lazing around in different parts of the ship. The cook appears with your favourite summer drink, beaming as he offers it to you, "Here you go, my love!"

"Thanks Sanji," you smile at him, taking the drink.

"Of course! I love you."

You didn't say it back, taking a sip of the drink, "This might be your best yet, love."

Sanji's face paled - even more so than it already was. He dropped to his knees, the tray clattering against the wooden deck. He looked like he'd just had his heart ripped out of his chest - and knowing him, he probably felt like that.

"Are you breaking up with me?!"

And then the waterworks started, tears streaming down his face as he rocked himself back and forth. He was muttering something about his worst nightmare, and how you're not the real (Name).

You laugh, crouching down beside him, "I love you too, you know that."

He looked at you with glassy eyes, "Then why didn't you say it back?"

You flicked his forehead, "Because I felt like making you panic after your little infatuation with the female assassin."

He instantly froze, tears magically disappearing, then proceeded to jump up like nothing happened and pampered you the rest of the day.

USOPP

You felt incredibly guilty about playing this prank on Usopp, but you were bored - actually the crew was bored, and you and Usopp were the only couple on board. Thus it was essentially Nami's idea to prank him, so it wasn't really your fault....right?

Usopp had no idea what was in for, bringing you into his room to help him decide which of his little explosives to bring with him on the crew's next land venture. You smiled and picked out his most efficient ones, and he offered you a kiss on the cheek in return.

"Thanks (Name), I can always count on you!" He beamed. "I love you."

You just smiled wider, then got up and left. You could swear you heard Usopp's jaw hit the floor, before he ran out after you, panicking.

"(Name)!" He grabbed your arm, turning you back around, laugjing nervously, "You heard what I said, right?"

"Yeah, I did," you confirmed, trying to hold back laughter.

"Then...why didn't you say it back?" He looked like you had just kicked him. "Or was it a mistake?"

You felt bad, and caved, "I'm sorry baby, it was a prank. I love you too."

"A prank?!" He cried, then cleared his throat, "I-I mean, I knew that! I was just playing along, you know."

You laughed, "I'm sure you were."

He was a little extra clingy after that, doing his best to make surw you knew he loved you so you wouldn't actually fall out of love with him. He would never be able to handle the real thing.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which this is the before of how the rest of our lives came to be

The job offer came in the middle of a thunderstorm.

You were sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, your camera bag half-zipped and a box of leftover takeout balanced on your lap. The email lit up your phone like a beacon:

“Official Photographer – UConn Women’s Basketball”

You stared at it, reread it three times, then blinked slowly as realization hit. It was a season-long contract. Full-time. Steady.

And a complete godsend.

By the end of the week, you were on campus, badge clipped to your jacket, nervous and clutching your DSLR like a lifeline.

You weren’t a stranger to sports photography, but UConn was different. Bigger. Brighter. More intense. More… watched.

Especially with a superstar like Paige Bueckers on the team.

You’d seen her in highlight reels, on magazine covers. She had a presence, even from a distance. But meeting her in person?

That was something else.

The gym buzzed with activity as the team stretched across the hardwood, sneakers squeaking and basketballs thudding against polished floors. You weaved between benches and chairs, raising your camera, finding angles.

And then she ran through your frame — tall, blonde, a wide grin on her face as she crashed into a layup line and completely ruined your perfect shot.

“Seriously?” you muttered, dropping your camera with an exasperated huff.

The blonde jogged over with a sheepish smile. “My bad! Totally didn’t see you there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m wearing a neon orange vest.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, not even pretending to be innocent. “Definitely saw you and still ran through anyway.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “So you’re just causing chaos on purpose?”

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” She extended her hand. “Paige.”

You shook it. “I know.”

Something passed between you — something warm, unspoken.

“I’m Y/N,” you added.

She grinned. “Welcome to the team.”

You decided to go out with your friends one night to celebrate your new job and one thing led to another, you wake up in a random dorm, naked under the sheets.

The nausea started subtly. A twist in your gut here, a weird aversion to coffee there. You thought it was stress. Or nerves. Maybe both.

Until one night, after a long day of shooting edits, you came home, sat down on your couch… and couldn’t stop crying.

No reason. Just waves of emotion crashing over you like a flood.

You chalked it up to burnout.

Until you missed your period.

Twice.

Panic settled into your bones like a chill. A drugstore pregnancy test confirmed what you already feared — two pink lines, bright and clear.

You were pregnant.

And completely, utterly alone.

You didn’t tell anyone. Not yet.

You threw yourself into work instead. Shooting every practice, every media day. Keeping your head down. Ignoring the fatigue, the nausea, the way your jeans started fitting just a little tighter.

But it caught up to you.

It was during a particularly brutal practice. You crouched near the sideline, camera in hand, already feeling queasy. The sound of sneakers and whistles surrounded you in a haze.

Then everything tilted. Your stomach churned.

You barely made it to a trash can before vomiting.

Everything stopped. Voices faded. And then a gentle hand settled on your back.

“Hey. Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, flushed and humiliated, only to see Paige crouched beside you, concern etched into every line of her face.

“I—yeah. I’m fine. Probably just something I ate.”

She didn’t move. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

You were. You hated that she could see that.

“Come on,” she murmured, slipping an arm under yours. “Let’s get you to the bench.”

You let her help you sit, and she knelt in front of you, bottle of water in hand.

“Want me to call someone?” she asked.

You shook your head quickly. “No. Please, don’t. I’m okay.”

She watched you for a long moment before sighing. “Alright. But I’m staying here. Just in case.”

She sat beside you for the rest of practice. Quiet. Steady. A warm presence.

You didn’t realize how much you needed that.

A few weeks later, you’re sitting on your bed, unable to fall asleep. You called the hospital two days ago to schedule an ultrasound and now you’re nervous, scared and alone.

Well… not really alone. Paige has somewhat been a constant in your life since you got sick that one time during practice.

So, you called her in the middle of the night, knowing she was most likely asleep, but two rings later, the phone picks up.

“Hello?” A sleepy voice answers.

You hesitate. “Hey, Paige.”

“Y/N?” Paige its up from her bed, a bit more awake now. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh, well, remember when you told me that I could call you up for anything?”

“Yeah, of course. You good ma?”

“Can you come over?”

“Already on my way.”

Ten minutes later, you hear a knock on your door. Opening it to reveal a tired looking Paige in pajama pants, hoodie, and glasses.

“You doing okay?” she asks, stepping into your apartment and settling herself on your couch.

“Not really.” 

She could tell you were nervous so she gestures for you to sit next to her.

“What’s wrong?”

You can’t bring yourself to say it, so you take the stick out of your jacket pocket and silently hand it to her. 

“Is this…” you mindlessly nod, tears forming in your eyes.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

She instantly brings you into her arms, making your break down.

“It’s alright mama. I got you. I always got you.”

The day of your appointment, Paige picked you up bright and early. The car was filled with comfortable silence from the two of you, music playing low in the background.

“You nervous?” she asked as you sat in the waiting room.

“Terrified,” you admitted.

She didn’t say anything. Just reached over and took your hand.

When the screen lit up in the dark exam room, and the faint flicker of a heartbeat appeared, something inside you cracked wide open.

You looked over to find Paige staring at the monitor with wide eyes, her lips parted, something reverent on her face.

“You’re not alone in this,” she whispered.

You didn’t let go of her hand the rest of the day.

After that, she barely left your side.

Weeks turned into months.

Paige started walking you home when you were too tired to drive. She kept saltines in her bag just in case. If you were working late in the photo lab, she’d show up with food..

Pregnancy cravings were no joke.

One night at 11:46 PM, you texted her. You: “I NEED pickles and a Frosty. If I don’t have them, I might cry.”

Fourteen minutes later, your door buzzed.

She stood there in pajama pants and a hoodie, holding a Wendy’s bag in one hand and a jar of pickles in the other.

“You’re insane,” you told her, laughing through your tears.

She winked. “No, I’m just really invested in this whole co-pilot role.”

You ate together on the couch, TV playing some old rom-com neither of you paid attention to.

As you entered your second trimester, your body grew heavier, slower. Everything ached.

Paige never complained.

She adjusted her class schedule to walk you home. Slept over more often. Always on the couch, though… until the night you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder, and neither of you moved.

That was the night it shifted.

It wasn’t said. Just… understood.

The space between you? It was gone.

She became your person — quietly, without fanfare.

One evening, you found her sitting in the nursery, folding onesies and humming.

She looked up. “You’re not scared, are you?”

You sat beside her. “Terrified.”

She reached for your hand. “Me too. But we’re doing this together.”

The UConn team threw you the most wonderfully chaotic baby shower imaginable.

There were balloons in every corner, streamers tangled in door frames, and a massive cake that read “Welcome, Mini Huskie!” Nika brought five tubs of different ice creams like it was a taste-test competition. Azzi cried during her speech, her voice cracking halfway through as she tried to talk about how loved this baby already was.

But the biggest moment of the day was still to come.

A week earlier, after the ultrasound appointment, you and Paige had been handed an envelope with the gender inside. Instead of opening it yourselves, Paige had smiled at you, then turned to Azzi and handed it over.

“Don’t open it yet,” Paige warned with a playful but serious look. “You get to plan something. Just make it special.”

Azzi grinned like she’d just been handed the keys to a kingdom.

And now, at the shower—turned gender reveal—everyone gathered around in the backyard as Azzi stood next to a giant balloon, a pin in her hand and a knowing glint in her eyes.

“You ready?” she asked, looking at both you and Paige.

You clutched Paige’s hand tighter, your heart racing. She gave your hand a squeeze back, her thumb gently stroking over your knuckles.

“Go for it,” you breathed.

Azzi popped the balloon—and a shower of pink confetti exploded into the air.

You froze. So did Paige.

Then you both looked at each other at the same time.

“A girl,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Paige blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold it together, but her smile was wide and trembling. She reached out and wrapped both arms around you, burying her face into the side of your neck.

“A daughter,” she whispered. “We’re having a daughter.”

Your eyes welled up, and you couldn’t even pretend to hold back the tears. Around you, the team was cheering, confetti still drifting down, but it all faded into the background. All you could feel was Paige’s arms, her breath against your skin, the quiet way she held you like everything in her world had just found its place.

And later, when the chaos had mellowed and it was time for toasts, Paige stood up and the room quieted immediately.

“I know she isn’t biologically mine,” she said gently. “And I wasn’t there at the very beginning. But I’ve been here—and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart clenched.

“She’s ours,” Paige continued, eyes finding yours. “She belongs to Y/N, but she’s mine too. I’ll be there for every sleepless night, every first step, every scraped knee and birthday candle.”

You cried.

And when Paige leaned in and kissed your cheek, you held onto her like letting go might somehow break the spell.

The next weekend, your living room was a maze of cardboard boxes, rogue screws, and one very determined Paige Bueckers sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding a tiny Allen wrench like it was a weapon of war.

“This can’t be legal,” she muttered, eyeing the thick instruction manual like it had personally offended her. “There’s... forty-seven steps. Who designs a crib with forty-seven steps?”

You watched from the couch, hand resting over your bump, trying not to laugh too hard because it made your back hurt. Paige had her hair tied back in a little bun and was wearing an old UConn hoodie already stained with sweat and smudged wood glue. One of the side panels was leaning awkwardly against the wall, while the rest of the crib parts looked like they’d been laid out by someone with no grasp of logic or gravity.

“Need help?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, lifting a board and promptly dropping one of the screws under the couch. “I’ve got this. I’m not just a basketball player. I am a builder of dreams.”

You snorted. “You’re not even a builder of IKEA furniture.”

“That’s rude,” she muttered. “And also fair.”

You smiled as you watched her work. It was clumsy, awkward, and completely endearing. She squinted at the pieces, sometimes holding two up together and whispering, “Are you guys soulmates or just coworkers?” At one point she called Nika for backup, but hung up after two minutes when Nika started laughing too hard to give any actual advice.

Eventually, Paige managed to attach three pieces together in what might have been the base of the crib. She sat back with a proud little grin, wiping sweat from her forehead and breathing like she’d just played four quarters and an overtime.

“Look at that,” she said. “Our baby’s gonna sleep right here.”

She leaned forward then, pressing her palm against the growing curve of your belly. Her voice dropped to a quiet murmur.

“You hear that, little one? I’m building this with my own two hands. Well... mostly. Your mom’s laughing at me, but she knows I’m trying.”

You felt it immediately—how soft her voice had gotten, how her eyes never left your belly as she spoke again.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” Paige whispered. “You’re not even here yet, and I already love you so much. I hope you like basketball. But if not, that’s cool too. We’ll figure it out together.”

She smiled, then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your belly.

Your throat tightened. Completely out of nowhere, the emotion hit you like a wave. Tears welled up as you stared at her—this girl who had stumbled her way into your life and your heart, and now, somehow, was falling just as in love with your daughter as you were.

“You okay?” she asked, noticing your face.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Yeah. Just... you’re gonna be such a good mom.”

Paige blinked, like she was trying not to cry now. She crawled over to you, cradling your face in both hands before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“We’re gonna be good moms,” she said. “All three of us—we’re already a team.”

It was late. The moon hung low outside your apartment window. Your swollen ankles were propped on a pillow. Paige was sitting on the floor, organizing diapers by size.

She looked up suddenly.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You blinked.

“Wait—no. I know I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened,” she continued. “Somewhere between the first ultrasound and the Frosty at midnight. But I am. And I don’t want to pretend I’m not.”

Your breath caught.

You moved to sit up, heart racing.

“And I know it’s messy,” she added. “That this isn’t the way people usually fall in love. But I’m not people. I’m me. And you’re you. And I love you.”

You smiled softly, eyes welling.

“I love you too, Paige.”

She blinked. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

She stood, crossed to the couch, and cupped your face gently.

And when she kissed you, everything fell into place.

You didn’t think labor would start while watching The Princess Diaries.

But, as Julie Andrews was mid-speech about Genovia, a sharp pain gripped your abdomen, and your half-eaten bowl of popcorn slipped from your lap to the floor.

“Paige…” you whispered.

She was already up from the couch, rushing to your side, eyes wide. “What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed her hand. “I think… I think it’s time.”

The calm, collected version of Paige you’d grown to love completely dissolved into a whirlwind of nervous scrambling — tripping over her own shoes, grabbing the hospital bag and phone, calling the Uber and trying to put your slippers on at the same time.

But the entire ride, she held your hand. Her thumb ran over your knuckles in a rhythm as steady as her breathing — not for herself, but for you.

And even through the pain, even through the panic, you felt safe.

It had been nearly fourteen hours of labor. Pain, sweat, tears, and a depth of exhaustion you didn’t know a body could feel. But when the final push came and you heard that first cry — that sweet, powerful cry — everything else faded to silence.

Your chest heaved. Your hands shook. Your heart was somewhere between your ribs and the ceiling.

Then they laid her on your chest.

Small. Warm. Red-cheeked and crying.

You stared at her, stunned by how something so little could take up every corner of your soul at once.

And beside you, Paige was crying just as hard — her hand clutching yours, her forehead pressed to your temple as she whispered, “You did it. You did so good, baby. She’s here. She’s really here.”

You looked down at the perfect little face pressed against your skin. The tiny lashes. The way her mouth curled like she was trying to figure the world out already.

“She’s… she’s everything,” you breathed.

“She’s ours,” Paige whispered, brushing a kiss across your temple.

The nurse came by to clean and weigh her, and even for the minute she was gone from your arms, it felt like a piece of your chest went with her. Paige didn’t take her eyes off the bassinet, standing at your side, hand still wrapped around yours.

When she was swaddled and returned to you, Paige sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out with the gentlest touch.

Her finger brushed your daughter's cheek.

“I still can’t believe she’s real.”

“She feels like a dream,” you whispered.

There was a long pause, the kind that settled deep into the air around you. Paige’s eyes didn’t move from your daughter.

“So, I’ve been thinking… Emma.”

You turned your head to her.

“Emma?” you repeated.

She smiled, slow and sure. “Yeah. Emma Bueckers.”

Your heart caught in your throat.

Your gaze dropped to the baby again. Emma. It fit her. Strong, soft, quietly powerful.

“She looks like an Emma,” you murmured, then smiled. “Emma Bueckers. Yeah… I like that.”

Paige reached up to push your hair from your face, thumb gently brushing along your cheekbone. 

Her voice came even softer this time, “Hopefully… that could be your name too. One day?”

You blinked, heart skipping as you looked up at her.

She was serious.

The warmth in her eyes, the soft curve of her mouth, the way her fingers lingered just below your jaw — it was all there, raw and open.

“What are you saying, Paige?”

She exhaled, then let out the smallest laugh — nervous, but full of love. “I’m saying… I want this forever. You. Her. All of it. I want to be the one who holds you at the end of every day. The one who changes diapers with you, and buys too many matching baby socks, and brings you snacks during every late-night feeding.”

You let out a breathy laugh, heart thudding.

“I know we didn’t plan this,” she continued, eyes shining. “But this feels like the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’ve known since that night I built the crib — when you were sitting on the floor with one hand on your belly and a screwdriver in the other, trying to take over building for me — that I was already yours.”

You stared at her for a long moment. This woman who had gone from your friend to your safe place. The one who carried you through every bout of morning sickness, who whispered to your belly every night, who held you like you were something precious.

Now she was holding your baby, and asking to hold your heart, too.

Tears welled in your eyes. “I want that too. I want all of it. You, me, Emma… forever.”

Paige leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow and full of everything that words couldn’t say.

“I don’t have a ring yet,” she whispered against your lips. “I want to do it right. But I couldn’t leave that room without telling you. Without… hoping.”

“You didn’t need a ring,” you whispered. “You already gave me everything.”

Emma stirred in your arms, letting out the tiniest sigh — like she could sense the weight of the moment.

You both looked down at her, your foreheads touching.

“So… Emma Bueckers,” you said softly. “And maybe soon… we’ll all have the same name.”

Paige’s smile broke open with emotion, tears falling freely now. “God, I love you.”

You kissed her again, arms curled around your daughter, and for a moment the entire world fit into one small hospital room.

Azzi was the first to show up.

She brought a huge pink balloon bouquet and teared up the second she saw the baby in your arms.

“Okay, I didn’t think I’d cry this fast,” she sniffled, laughing through the tears. “She’s… she’s beautiful.”

“She’s perfect,” Paige whispered proudly, standing behind you with her hands on your shoulders.

Nika barged in ten minutes later with a camera and matching mother-daughter socks. “This baby’s gonna be dripped out before she even walks!”

Aubrey came with homemade muffins. Geno brought a stuffed Husky and gave you both a rare but heartfelt hug.

And in the quiet lull between visitors, Paige reached into the bassinet and gently scooped Emma into her arms. You watched her cradle her like she’d done it for years, her voice soft.

“You’ve got so many people who love you, little one,” she whispered. “But I’m your number one. Always.”

You smiled through the haze of sleep deprivation and aching muscles.

“You mean we’re her number ones.”

Paige grinned. “Right. Sorry. She’s got two MVPs.”

Then she kissed Emma’s tiny forehead, and softly murmured, “Can’t wait to marry your mom someday.”

“You’ve got a good team here,” Geno said softly, patting Paige on the back and giving your shoulder a squeeze. “And now you’ve got one more.”

But it was Azzi who lingered after the others had left. She rocked Emma slowly, humming to her in the late afternoon light filtering through the window.

You exchanged a glance with Paige, and without speaking, you both knew it was the right moment.

“Azzi,” you said gently.

She looked up.

“We want you to be her godmother,” Paige said, voice a little thick.

Azzi blinked, visibly stunned. “Wait—me?”

“Of course,” you nodded. “You’ve always been family.”

Azzi’s eyes welled up again. “I’d be honored.”

Emma cooed softly in her arms.

“Guess that’s a yes from her too,” Paige smiled.

It was a strange thing — leaving the hospital.

You expected a bigger moment, maybe. Something cinematic. But in reality, it was a flurry of paperwork, soft murmurs from nurses, and Paige fumbling with the car seat like it was made of quantum physics. She finally got Emma clicked in, though not without wiping her eyes first.

“I just… can’t believe they’re letting us take her home,” she whispered as she looked at your daughter. “Like… we’re trusted with this tiny person?”

You laughed softly from the passenger seat. “Paige, you built an entire crib from scratch and kept me upright through eight months of pregnancy. I think we’re good.”

She reached over to squeeze your hand, eyes warm. “I still don’t believe this is real.”

The apartment looked the same. It smelled faintly of the lavender candle Paige had insisted on lighting before heading to the hospital. But something had shifted. Everything felt quieter. More fragile. More sacred.

Emma’s first night home was soft and slow.

You held her against your chest as Paige fussed with the temperature of the room, checking the baby monitor for the fifth time.

“She’s not even in the crib yet,” you teased, watching her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Paige muttered. “I just want everything perfect.”

“You already are.”

She turned and gave you the softest look. “You’re tired. You sleep. I’ll stay up with her.”

And she did.

You woke up hours later and found Paige asleep in the rocking chair, Emma on her chest, both of them out cold. The moonlight spilling through the window made the whole scene glow.

You didn’t say anything. Just leaned against the doorframe and let the image burn into your memory.

The first bath happened days later, and it was… chaotic.

Paige read the instructions on the baby bath three times. You were in charge of the temperature, towel, and Emma’s post-bath outfit, which Paige insisted be the “bunny one with the ears.”

Emma screamed the whole time.

“She hates this,” Paige said in a mild panic, cradling your slippery, red-faced daughter like she was made of glass.

“She doesn’t hate it,” you laughed. “She just doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“But her face—!”

“She’s fine. You’re doing great.”

Paige looked up at you, wet curls falling into her eyes. “I’ve played in front of thousands of people. Won important games. But nothing has ever been this stressful.”

“Welcome to parenthood,” you said, grinning.

Later, Emma finally calmed down in Paige’s arms, wrapped in her bunny towel, little fists curled against her chest. You both sat on the couch in silence, breathing her in.

“I never thought this would be my life,” Paige whispered, brushing her thumb along Emma’s cheek. “And I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Nights became a rhythm.

2 a.m. was Emma’s favorite time to wake.

You’d hear the soft cries before your eyes were even open, and somehow Paige was always up before you, already halfway to the bassinet.

She’d come back with the baby cradled against her chest, humming under her breath. Sometimes she’d hand her to you, sometimes she’d just sit on the bed, legs crossed, whispering sweet nothings to Emma’s tiny face.

“You don’t even flinch anymore,” you said one night as she handed Emma over for her feeding.

“I think I just listen for her even in my dreams,” Paige replied, settling beside you. “She’s in my bones now.”

You looked at her over your daughter’s head, completely and utterly in awe.

“God, I love you,” you whispered.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I’m gonna marry you, you know.”

“You already said that.”

“I meant it.”

Two weeks in, Paige started making notes.

They were small things — scribbled phrases in a notebook she kept beside the couch. You caught glimpses sometimes when you walked by: ring ideas, favorite moments, speech draft?

You never asked. She never said. But you knew.

She was planning.

One afternoon, as Emma napped in the bassinet and sunlight pooled across the living room rug, Paige curled up beside you on the couch. You had your head on her shoulder, her arm around your waist, her other hand resting lightly on your thigh.

“I think she’s going to have your smile,” you whispered.

Paige hummed. “I think she already has your attitude.”

You chuckled softly. “We’re doomed.”

“She’s perfect.”

A pause.

“You both are.”

You turned your head, brushing your nose against her jaw.

“You okay?”

She nodded, eyes glassy. “Yeah. I just… I’ve never had something so good before. So real. It’s terrifying.”

You reached for her hand. “It’s not going anywhere.”

“I know.” She paused, then leaned in and pressed her lips to your temple. “And I’m not wasting any time pretending I don’t want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

The day that everything was going to change for the better started with a video call.

Paige was bouncing Emma in one arm, pacing the living room in worn sweats and a messy bun, while your soft humming filtered in from the kitchen. She had that look in her eyes — distant, thoughtful — like her brain was running miles faster than her feet.

She’d been thinking about it for days.

Then she opened her contacts and hit Azzi’s name.

It rang once. Twice.

“Yo,” Azzi’s voice came through, grinning immediately when she saw Emma. “There’s my goddaughter! Look at her chubby cheeks — hey, mama!”

Emma blinked sleepily at the screen, half-interested, half-dozing.

Paige smiled, kissed the top of her head, and shifted to cradle her against her chest. “She just ate. She’s in a milk coma.”

Azzi laughed. “What’s up? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“I haven’t,” Paige admitted. “But that’s not why I called.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Everything okay?”

Paige hesitated. Then exhaled and moved to sit on the edge of the couch. Emma stayed snuggled to her chest, her tiny hand gripping Paige’s shirt.

“I need your help with something.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Basketball-related?”

“No. Bigger.”

Azzi sat up straighter. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m gonna propose.”

Azzi blinked. “To—wait, to—to her?”

Paige just smiled.

A slow, soft grin spread across Azzi’s face, full of warmth and surprise. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious,” Paige whispered. “I’m in love with her. I’ve been in love with her. She gave me this family. I’ve never felt more like myself than I do when I’m with her. When I’m with them.”

Azzi let out a breath, visibly moved. “Paige, that’s… God. That’s everything.”

“I want it to be perfect,” Paige said, her voice quiet. “I want her to know — without a doubt — that this isn’t just something I fell into. That I chose her. I chose Emma. And I’ll choose them both for the rest of my life.”

Azzi was quiet for a beat.

“Okay, well now I’m crying at eight a.m., thanks.”

Paige laughed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s beautiful,” Azzi said, swiping under her eyes. “She’s gonna say yes. You know that, right?”

“I think so.”

Azzi gave her a look. “Paige.”

“I hope so.”

“She looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Paige smiled down at Emma. “I think Emma’s got her wrapped around her finger more than I do.”

“Both of you do.”

There was a long pause. Azzi leaned forward on her screen.

“Alright. So what’s the vibe? Big romantic gesture? Quiet and intimate? Flash mob with the team dressed as roses?”

Paige snorted. “Absolutely not that last one.”

“Fine, party pooper.”

“I want something that feels like us.” Paige looked up again. “You’ve known me longer than anyone. Help me think.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay. What’s your shortlist?”

“I’ve got… a few ideas.”

She pulled out her phone and opened a note she’d been working on secretly. Azzi watched as Paige scrolled.

Recreate the night we built the crib — but actually finish it this time, then propose in the nursery.

Take her back to UConn, rent the gym, propose where we first met.

Picnic at the lake by our place. Emma in a little onesie. Paige gives her the ring to hand over.

Quiet night at home. Candlelight. Just us. Nothing else needed.

Azzi read the list quietly.

“They’re all good,” she said. “But number three? That one’s got me.”

Paige looked up. “You think so?”

“You’ve always been your softest when you’re with her and Emma outside. When it’s just you two in your bubble. I’ve seen it.” Azzi smiled. “And can you imagine the look on her face when Emma toddles over with the ring box? She’ll melt.”

Paige sighed, smiling like she could already see it.

“She’s gonna lose it.”

“She’s gonna sob, and then say yes, and then probably tackle you,” Azzi said. “And I’m gonna cry again, even if it’s on FaceTime.”

“You'll be the first to know,” Paige promised.

Azzi laughed. “Damn right I will.”

Later that night, Paige lay beside you in bed, watching as you fed Emma under the soft glow of the nightlight. Your robe was slipping off one shoulder, your hair a little messy, and your smile was so full of love it made her heart ache.

“You okay?” you asked gently.

Paige reached over, brushing a thumb against your wrist.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilted your head. “What brought that on?”

She leaned in, kissed your shoulder, and whispered, “You’ll see.”

It took Paige weeks to find the right ring.

Azzi had come through with the jeweler recommendation — a Black-owned custom shop in Dallas that specialized in timeless, understated pieces. Paige didn’t want flash. She didn’t want anything over-the-top. She wanted you.

Simple. Elegant. Something that would glint under sunlight when you held Emma. Something that would feel like her heart had been shaped into metal and slipped onto your finger.

It was a gold band, warm and soft, with a single diamond in the center and two tiny emeralds on either side — one for you, one for Emma.

When she picked it up, she couldn’t stop staring at it. The box sat in her hoodie pocket every day after that. Just… waiting.

At the time of the big day, Paige woke up early.

The light in the bedroom was pale, barely brushing the sheets. You were still asleep, hair fanned across the pillow, lips parted softly. Emma was in the bassinet nearby, snuggled up with her favorite plush bunny.

Paige slipped out of bed like it was a sacred act, careful not to wake either of you. She kissed both foreheads on her way out of the room and tiptoed to the nursery.

That’s where the onesie was hidden.

It was custom, of course. She’d had it made after talking to Azzi. Cream-colored cotton, soft as clouds, with little gold script across the front.

Paige changed Emma into it slowly, whispering to her the whole time. “You ready to help me do something big, baby girl? You’re gonna be part of something so special today.”

Emma giggled, like she understood. Paige pressed her forehead to her daughter’s and exhaled.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

It was the same lake you’d picnicked at when Emma was just a few weeks old — the one where you’d laid in Paige’s lap, watching the ripples move across the water while she fed you strawberries and rubbed your back.

This time, Paige set up early.

A soft checkered blanket. A woven basket full of your favorites — pastries from your favorite coffee spot, the baby’s bottles, little pink tulips tucked into a mason jar. A speaker sat tucked into the grass, set to a playlist Paige had made for this exact moment.

It was perfect.

Then Paige sent you a text.

hey baby. bring emma and come meet me by the lake? we’re having breakfast together. dress comfy <3

You read it in the kitchen, sipping your tea, and smiled. “She’s up to something,” you mumbled.

Emma blinked up at you from her stroller.

You didn’t realize until you pushed her toward the lake, walking down the grassy hill and saw Paige standing near the edge of the blanket, heart in her throat — that something was different.

Paige took Emma from the stroller, holding her in a way so she’s facing you. That’s when you saw the onesie.

“Marry Mama?”

You stopped mid-step.

And then your eyes lifted to Paige.

She was smiling, but her lips were trembling. Her hands were already reaching for the small velvet box in her pocket. “Surprise,” she said softly.

You stared at Emma. Then back at Paige. “Oh my God.”

Paige stepped forward slowly. “I wanted to do this right. I wanted you to remember this moment for the rest of your life. Because I will.”

You blinked fast, tears rushing up before you could stop them.

“I know this hasn’t been a typical love story. I know we weren’t expecting any of this — but you,” she said, voice catching, “you gave me everything I never knew I needed.”

You covered your mouth, breath shaky.

“You let me love you through all of it — through the fear and the unknown, through swollen feet and late-night cravings and sleep-deprived chaos — and every single day I’ve spent with you, I’ve only wanted one thing... more.”

She dropped to one knee, Em laying against her chest, holding the ring box open in her shaking hands.

“I want to be your wife. I want to be Emma’s mom forever. I want to spend every boring Tuesday and messy Sunday morning beside you. I want all of it. You. Her. Us.”

You sobbed, stepping forward, completely overwhelmed.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded before you could even speak.

Then you dropped to your knees in front of her and cupped her face between your hands, laughing through the tears.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, yes, yes. God, Paige, of course I’ll marry you.”

She kissed you before she even got the ring on.

It was messy and salty and perfect. Emma babbled at you both, kicking her feet in her little onesie like she’d planned it herself.

When Paige finally slipped the ring onto your finger, your hands were still trembling. “It’s so beautiful,” you whispered, staring at it.

“So are you,” she said, voice full of awe.

That night, back home, you lay on the couch with your head in Paige’s lap, Emma asleep on your chest, and the ring glinting in the soft golden light of the TV.

“You know,” you whispered, “I think Emma might be magic.”

Paige smiled. “She made a lot of things possible.”

You turned your hand, admiring the ring again. “Did Azzi help you plan this?”

“She’s the one who made me realize how sure I was.”

“I’m glad she did.”

Paige leaned down and kissed your temple.

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

“You already feel like home.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi!!!! I'm currently indulging in your adorable fluff fics about our beloved COD men!! They are FREAKING ADORABLE.

Could you write one imagine with just pure cute, domesticated fluff? Like married life/life w kids or smth with TF141. I'm up for anything haha. It's okay if u don't want to ! 😄<33

I did have someone request domestic fluff not too long ago, but I couldn't help myself. I had to jump on your ask, anon, and write some more domestic fluff!! You can read that other domestic fluff imagines fic here. I incorporated some dad!141 here with Ghost and Price. The whole thing is just softness and sweetness. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: domestic fluff, dad!Price, dad!Simon

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

This isn’t John’s thing, but he’ll do it for his daughters.

John sits at one end of the table while you sit on the other, your two daughters seated on either side. His three favorite girls are all dressed up. You’re decked out in a witch’s outfit, something you found stowed away in a storage bin. His two daughters with you are dressed up like their Dungeons & Dragons characters. One, a wood elf ranger. The other, a half-elf cleric.

John isn’t dressed up, but from the character sheet you’ve put in front of him, his name is Gurlak, a half-orc barbarian. Rip and tear. Punch and smash. Easy. He can do that.

Family board game night has become Dungeons & Dragons night. The girls’ school started a club, and now they’ve brought it home, completely obsessed with it.

“From the dark,” you begin, lowering your voice. The girls lean in, eyes wide. “Yellow eyes peer back at you.”

The girls giggle, the youngest bouncing in her chair.

John smiles, and sighs with contentment. He wishes every night could be like this.

Your hands raise high above you, and then smack against the table. The girls jump, startled.

“Roll initiative!”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It’s early, and Johnny is determined. Upstairs, your alarm is off, silenced on purpose.

Before him on the kitchen counter is everything he needs to prepare breakfast. Eggs, bacon, batter for pancake and waffles, fresh fruit, shredded potatoes—an endless list of items that covers the granite countertop in a sea of colorful boxes and containers.

With the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips, Johnny begins warming pans and popping slices of bread into the toaster. He melts into the work, slicing fruit, placing bacon in the pan to sizzle. Johnny’s minds drifts, and with his back turned to the stove, he doesn’t notice the bacon fat as it urges toward flame.

It’s the whiff of something burning that distracts him from turning a strawberry into a flower. Then the shriek of the smoke detector.

“Hells,” he mutters, snagging the smoking pan and dumping it into the sink. He opens the window.

“What’s happening?” You rub at your eyes, sleep lacing your tone.

Johnny shrugs sheepishly. “Making you breakfast? Burning the house down?”

You blink, and then laugh, rushing to turn the vent fan on, the two of you laughing as you clear the house of smoke.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle awakens in the dark. Immediately, without even having to turn over, he knows you’re not in bed. That familiar weight is missing.

With a slight twist, Kyle reaches out, finding only coldness. Stretching, Kyle sits up, glancing around the silent bedroom. All is still and dark. The bathroom door is cracked, but the light isn’t on. Slowly, with sleep still clinging to his muscles, Kyle guides himself from bed, heading for the door. Out in the hall, he walks toward the living room, knowing that you might be curled up on the sofa, completely absorbed in a book.

But you are not on the sofa with your book and blanket.

Kyle finds you in the kitchen, the double doors of the refrigerator standing open, the harsh light bathing you in its glow.

“Midnight snack?” asks Kyle.

You pop your head out from around the door, chewing on something. Kyle snorts and saunters over, coming up behind you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he places his chin on your shoulder.

“Willing to share?” he murmurs.

“Not if it’s ice cream,” you reply.

Kyle smiles, and places a kiss your neck. You lean into him, and Kyle pulls you closer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Dinner is always chaotic, but everyone sits at the table.

Simon forks up some of his lasagna, popping it into his mouth as he grabs the plate of his youngest. Using the child-size plastic knife and fork, he starts hacking away at her portion of lasagna, cutting it into smaller pieces. She watches, pointing and directing while chewing on her garlic bread when she thinks Simon isn’t cutting the pieces small enough for her liking.

The two middle children fuss and argue at each other from across the table. They both want the bottle of salad dressing, but only one manages to snag it before the other. She shakes the bottle, pops the tab, and a massive wad of ranch splatters across her plate. Her sister laughs in her face, and then complains loudly when half of the smeared ranch ends up on her plate.

Simon glances up, finds you in conversation with the oldest as she shows off her report card. His heart flips, surges, becomes so full that it’s prone to bursting. Most of his life, a family seemed a distant, unobtainable dream. But surrounding him is all he cares about in this world.

He couldn’t be happier.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @xllizs @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @all-by-myself98 @hisuccubus

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving @carbonnite-copy @sobbangchan @codeseven

@youre-a-wallflower-charlie @tiredmetalenthusiast @sporadicpizzainternet @tessakate @mistresssolana

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel’s jealousy gets harder to handle knowing the history you and Tommy had.]

PART 4, the other parts are linked below this chapter.

“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial.

It had been a month now since the truth came out. A month since Tommy learned you had cheated on him with Joel, and as much as Tommy tried to act like the understanding brother that knew Joel was in love with you, there was a lingering anger brewing inside him.

Of course there was, Tommy felt Joel didn’t deserve you to give him a chance, he felt he was the better choice and you failed to see it. It felt strange having a relationship with Joel after the way things happened, you avoided seeing Tommy as much as possible. Even after apolgizing to him you didn’t have the face to be with Joel in front of him in his house.

It was plain wrong.

Joel knew his brother was still upset at the situation but he didn’t know just how much of a grudge he was holding. Watching you and Joel outside the window every morning, being affectionate, kissing him, talking with him as if nothing happened, it wasn’t fair. But Tommy knew how he could get his revenge, see only he knew just how much of a jealous side Joel had. Although Joel tried to move along with you these past few weeks, he knew damn well that Joel couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you slept with Tommy at all. You knew Joel must’ve thought about it, although, he promised you he would never bring it up.

Joel kissed you by your front door before heading off to work. He could feel you softly push him away as his tongue swirled around yours.

“Ok, ok..not here”

He sighed as he took a step back.

“Tommy can come out any minute” you whispered softly brushing your hand up his chest.

“I know but we can’t stay hidden forever, he knows we’re together” Joel attempted to argue but simply by the look on your face he tightened his lips. You knew he didn’t like it, he felt he should be able to freely show his woman how much he wanted her without worrying about his brother. He wasn’t proud about how things had gone down, but Tommy admitted to him he didn’t love you, he insisted for his brother to go on with his life…but he wasn’t honest to himself.

Tommy had kept silent about you as much as he could but it was getting harder for him to stay that way. Driving the truck to work, Tommy looked over at his brother eager to start up a conversation. Easy to find a way to speak of you.

“So how’s y/n doin’?”

Joel hesitantly looked over at his brother, not expecting to hear your name from his mouth.

“She’s fine”

“Guess that pill worked huh?” A sarcastic tone played with a smile, Joel’s brows furrowed.

“S’cuse me?” He knew damn well what pill Tommy was referring to. That damn after pill that Joel had secretly hoped wouldn’t work.

“Ya know, her plan B or whatever-“

“I know what the hell youre talkin’ about, why are ya speakin of it?” Joel snapped. Tommy shrugged with a light laugh.

“Just sayin’”

Later that day at work with a few other men, Joel overheard one of the guys speaking on what their wife was into. From afar he shook his head hearing the men get lost in their stories until Tommy began to share his.

“This last girl I was into, she liked it real rough” he smirked as he continued to work, he knew Joel would be listening in. The second Tommy began bragging about a sexual encounter, he looked up from the corner of his eyes, lips pressed tightly wondering if he was speaking of you. It had to be.

“Don’t they all” one of the guys interrupted with a laugh.

“Na this one was somethin’ else man. She melted into a damn puddle the second I’d wrap my hand around her throat” he looked over to see Joel biting his inner cheek, attempting to block out the conversation, keeping himself busy but he knew damn well he was listening.

“Oh she sounds like a wild ride” another man responded with excitement.

“It was a one time ride I wouldn’t mind testin’ out again” Joel instantly looked up hearing the two men laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He stopped what he was doing walking towards them.

“Just a story he was tellin’ me bout some broad” the guy responded with a laugh.

“How about we get back to work and stop the damn chit chat, maybe then we’d get home in time for dinner” the men stood silent as Joel turned back to where he was.

The drive home was silent until Joel’s beeper went off. Tommy looked over seeing Joel adjust himself in his seat.

“You in a rush to be somewhere?”

“Got plans”

Tommy smirked knowing those plans were with you, especially having Sarah stay at her friend’s house tonight.

“Whatchu guys doin’ tonight? Just some fun or-“

“None of your damn business”

“Hey, Joel relax. We’re brothers, we’re good, we can talk about this”

“No, no we can’t” he looked at the road ahead in silence thinking over what he overheard at work. A part of him aching to confront him about it, while the other half fought to ignore it. He promised you he wouldn’t let it get to him. But Tommy could see it, the tension on him as he stared at the road ahead of what he had heard but he wouldn’t give in.

“Aren’t cha gonna ask me?” Tommy peaked over at him as he drove

“Ask ya what?” Joel responded low.

“If I was talkin’ bout ya girl before”

“Stop while you’re ahead” he warned just as Tommy pulled up into the driveway.

“Look it’s nothin’ personal, sometimes we talk about the women we’ve had and-“ Joel stepped out of the car slamming the door shut.

You heard Joel’s truck just outside your window. The excitement you felt whenever you knew he returned home, excitedly you walked out the front door to see him walking towards your front yard. But your smile instantly dropped when you saw his face, you knew something was wrong.

“Oh come on, Joel. It ain’t that serious” you looked over to see Tommy by the truck calling out to him. Awkwardly you stood there when you and Tommy locked eyes. The second Joel saw him staring at you he walked faster towards you.

“Come on, get inside” he whispered, his hands finding your waist gently pushing you back into the door.

“What happened?” You whispered looking up at him.

“Nothin’, just get inside” you did as he asked hearing him slam the door shut behind him after you both walked in. He looked agitated, even if he didn’t want to admit it, you knew him very well.

“Baby, what’s wrong” you whispered gently caressing his face, he looked down at you for a moment silently. You could tell he was thinking something but he wouldn’t say what. In that moment Joel was having intrusive thoughts, thoughts bought upon his brother. The thought of his brother touching you in ways he was only ever meant to. His mind once again thinking of that night that he walked in to the house with your moans echoing down the hall. Now, thanks to Tommy with more visuals. Joel knew you loved him but his jealousy was tearing into him deeper and deeper. How rough was Tommy with you? Did you want him to be more rough with you?

Joel suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you in a way he never had. You squealed stumbling backwards before feeling his hand on your lower back pulling you against him.

“Joel..” you whispered a bit confused as he kissed your neck. He moved aggressively, abruptly picking you up and sitting you on your desk.

“Joel wait-“ his hand grabbing a chunk of your hair, tugging at it harder than he ever had. You gasped as he held your head in place, his lips parting from yours, he stopped and looked down at you for just a moment.

“Is this how ya like it?” He whispered as you stared up at him confused.

“I-“

“Tell me” he demanded. You didn’t understand where this was coming from.

“Is this what had you screamin’ in that room with him?” His brows furrowed as you abruptly pushed him back making him let go of your hair.

“Excuse me?!” You jumped down from the desk walking towards him.

“Is that what this is about?!”

“What, from what I hear you like it a little rough” it was as if he wasn’t himself speaking to you. Anger in his eyes he let his emotions get the best of him.

“You promised you’d never-“

“Yeah I know” he cut you off coldly.

“Get out” you whispered looking away. Embarrassed by the whole situation, never had you regretted something so much. He didn’t move for a moment, for just a second he felt guilt. He didn’t like speaking to you this way, he hated seeing you upset.

“Get out!” You screamed.

Joel more angry at himself than anything walked out slamming the door shut.

“Hey you’re back early” Tommy grinned as Joel walked in.

“Get outta my way” Joel uttered under his breath before walking past him angrily and into his room. Tommy raised his brows wondering what happened, apart of him pleased to see some kind of tension between you two.

Tommy went to his room, enjoying his drink he began looking for one of his magazines he always loved to take a look at after a long day until he looked past his window. Taking a double look, he realized he could see you walking into your bedroom. You seemed upset but quickly brushed away any tears. Curiously he continued to watch and that’s when you began to take off your clothes. Tommy took a step closer, he watched as you walked around the bedroom in your bra, a smirk on his face when Joel suddenly opened the door. Tommy’s face instantly dropping the second Joel appeared. Joel instantly noticing the smirk on Tommy’s face just a second before.

“You don’t knock?” Tommy turned away from the window casually walking to his desk.

“What were ya lookin’ at?” Joel furrowed his brows knowing damn well what was outside of his window.

“Nothin’ man just-“ Joel walked into the room, his boots loudly hitting the floor when he noticed you, clear as day through your window. Taking your ear rings off and letting your hair loose, he could see you in your bra not having a clue you were being watched.

Tommy began to laugh nervously.

“Look, Joel.. it ain’t my fault-“

“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial. Tommy stood silent, he knew that look his brother had..he knew exactly what it meant.

“Joel, I ain’t see nothin’” he walked backwards as Joel slowly walked towards him. Built up resentment he could no longer hold inside.

“Come on, man, if we’re being real….its not like it’s nothing I haven’t already seen” and with that, Joel blacked out.

After changing out of your clothes and putting on a robe you suddenly heard your doorbell going off.

“What the hell?” You came running down the stairs to see Joel through the window.

“What the hell is wrong with you-“ you opened the door ready to scream, ready to argue when you noticed a bloody lip and raw knuckles.

“Joel” you whispered he stared down at you out of breath.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for hating the idea of any man having had you let alone…my damn brother-“ you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“You’re mine and-“ he shook his head as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

“I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touchin’ ya, dammit. If that makes me a jerk then I’m sorry” you couldn’t help but attempt to hold back a smile.

“The hell ya smilin’ at?”

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny. I just-wow…I didn’t know you could be this jealous. Listen, I’m really sorry about all of this, Joel. It’s a tricky situation” you gently took hold of his arm and pulled him in the house.

“I don’t wanna fight” you whispered.

“Neither do I” he assured you.

“Look at you” you thumb gently going over his bloody lip.

“Yeah that was-“ he looked away ashamed.

“Tommy and his damn mouth”

“Ignore him”

“Kinda hard to do that, especially with you and ya damn blinds being open-“

“What?” You looked up at him confused.

“He saw you in your bra-“

“Oh shit!” You shook your head.

“I completely forgot I took my wooden blinds off to buy new ones. I was suppose to get them today”

“I’ll get em and have em up for ya, tomorrow”

You could tell Joel wasn’t gonna take no for an answer and simply nodded.

“Got it” you smiled and took him to the kitchen to help clean him up.

“Well…is he ok?” You hesitated to ask as you put a bag of ice to his lip.

“Didn’t leave him to bad, we’re fine though…just needed to-“

“Let it out?” You raised a brow. Joel took a deep breath with a nod before you gently took his face and kissed him softly on his forehead.

Sorry about the tags, for some reason it gave me an issue to tag anyone here.

[lucygraysboy]

“thank you, lucy gray. if it makes you feel any better, just know i’ll be regrettin’ that for the rest of my life.” what an idiot he was. there really is no excuse, but knowing she’s forgiven him means a lot. it’s more than he could ever ask for. “and you do the same, okay? even if it’s somethin’ small, tell me, yeah?” even if it’s one of her paranoid thoughts, he’d still like to hear it and explain himself, help her out. “that’s what i’ve been thinkin’. i mean, charlie and manuela are expectin’ their first baby and they aren’t gettin’ married anytime soon.” meanwhile, he and lucy gray were determined to be husband and wife back when they were ten. they really are meant to be. “baby boy. am i your baby boy now?” a chuckle escapes his lips and he gently tickles her side, finding the pet name adorable but also a little awkward. “well, so do i but only if it’s with you. exactly,” he agrees, nodding his head even if she can’t see him. their favorite movie playing in the background, the upbeat tune of bop to the top filling the room, but neither seems to be paying attention. “think i’d die if another man’s child had your eyes.” that would be the end of him. “i’ll never have children or get married if it’s not with you.” maybe it’s silly of him to make such bold statements while in his twenties, but he genuinely can’t picture himself committing to anyone else. “what about you and your other cowboy? when’d that even start? how?” he wonders out loud, thinking it’s alright to ask since they’re on the subject of former flings. “well, yeah… there were no goodbye kisses or anything like that, no maybe we could give it time and work it out, okay? and i don’t have any feelings for her. i feel like an asshole for dating her in the first place.” because he never had any feelings for that girl. “are we? at least we’re insane together.” laughing, he just has to agree — they really are insane. 

“well i have no choice but to forgive you now, but it really hurt back then.” little lucy gray would have been so happy to know future billy would one day apologize for the hurt she was feeling. “alright, i’m countin’ on you.” to tell her whatever he feels like is bothering him instead of repeating history. “well how darlin’ of you, baby boy,” hand rubs his cheek, “only us though.” a soft laugh emits, only they as children would want marriage that soon— but didn’t that prove they really were written in the stars all the more? “yeah, maybe i do.” she values marriage and daydreams about it, “but it has to be with you and if it doesn’t end up bein’ with you, i won’t want it.” lucy gray admits, deciding to completely honest about it since her mind is made all up on her stance about marriage anyway after experiencing what relationships are like when they’re not with her soulmate; the one meant for her. hearing his answers to her question, brows gently lift as she stares at him, “oh, alright.” saying casually, despite a little skepticism hidden deep down. “just left so easily like that?” sounds like a rebound, then. “abused…? never. you’re a drama king,” she giggles softly, watching the movie. “that’s what it means, billy b.” a smirk. a long pause in between them before she finally speaks again, “we’re insane.” that’s what she decides on, dropping these kisses and love confessions, but not officially being together… it’s insane.

[mirclealignr]

for the better | james potter [7.7k]

james potter x fem!slytherin!reader

requested by anonymous wherein james’ love for harmful pranks is the one thing that keeps y/n and james divided.

warnings; alcohol & food consumption, swearing, james being a bit james, mentions of someone like drowning a bit, she / her pronouns used for the reader.

a/n: i’m not really confident on the actual quality of my writing here or this fic at all really, but oh well. have it anyway xxx

James Potter elicited conflicting sentiments from Y/N. He could be selfish, conceited, and aggravating but, in spite of that, he could also be considerate, charming and amiable. Nevertheless, his fondness for immature pranks could infuriate her to the ends of the Earth. He and his friends could oftentimes overdo it, push it much too far, and Y/N could never understand the enjoyment they experienced from humiliating others. 

But on the other side of it, the side where James Potter could charm her into almost anything, she saw the sense of fun he sought from everyday life. She saw the young man who thought deeply about things, who could plan meticulously, who was strangely organised and clean. She saw someone who could make her feel as if the only adoration he relished was her own.

But, still, Y/N maintained her vigilance. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” called James, spotting her amongst the littered students of the Sunday morning breakfast rush.

Y/N stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall and exhaled, turning around to see the cocky grin stretching across James Potter’s face. With a quick sarcastic smile in return she continued on her way to the Slytherin table without so much as a word. 

She could barely admit to herself that she hoped he would follow. 

“Oi!” James called after her. “Can’t get away that easily, Y/L/N.”

James delighted in the thrill of the chase. 

“What do you want, Potter?” Y/N rolled her eyes, turning to face him before she reached her friends who would tease her endlessly for entertaining him in the first place.

James caught up to her with a little jog, ignoring the Slytherins giving him a distasteful eye as he whisked past them. 

He shook his hair about, letting it fall back into its natural place. “Er, just wondering if you’d…started the Potions assignment yet,” he shrugged, clearing his throat. 

“Really, James? You wanted to know if I had started the Potions assignment, due tomorrow, that much?” She cocked an eyebrow. 

Well, of course not, James thought. He just wanted to talk to you. “Yeah, thought you could give me some pointers, if you had.”

She shook her head, strolling further down into the Great Hall, avoiding her friends’ mocking stares. “Yes, I’ve finished it, actually. And no, why don’t you ask Remus?” 

“Lost a bet with him. Can’t get any help off him for another two weeks,” admitted James, sighing.

“Well, you’ll have to find someone else, then. Or just…do it yourself?”

James feigned a breaking heart and winced. “You’d do that to me?”

“You’re more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, Potter. Now piss off, I want to eat.”

James stood still.

“Go on!” She shooed. 

This time, he scurried off, obeying his instruction. But when he reached Sirius, Remus and Peter, he was not himself. They could spot it immediately and their eyes honed in on the Y/N across the Hall laughing with her friends. They turned quizzically back to James who was more than happy to reveal the reason behind his altered demeanour.

“She complimented me,” James swelled with pride. “I told you I’d get her to come round.”

Sirius didn’t believe it for an instant. Remus cocked a suspicious eyebrow, and Peter was busy eating his cereal. James looked at the three of his closest friends, the boys he would do anything for, and their disbelieving expressions with disappointment. It was betrayal.

“You’re all dead to me.” 

Remus sighed, putting his novel down. “Now, Prongs, what else did she say?” he probed.

James spluttered, scoffed and waved his hands. What did it matter? She complimented him and she meant it. Everything else was simply besides the point, a mere subtext to the main event. He picked up two slices of toast, buttering them rather aggressively as Sirius and Remus waited for an answer. 

“She told him to “piss off,”” said Peter between mouthfuls. 

James chortled in pure disbelief, almost choking on his first bite of his freshly buttered toast. He quickly looked to Remus and Sirius who hid their smirks rather pathetically. “How did you know that’s what she said?!”

“I didn’t, but that’s what she usually says,” laughed Peter, joined by Sirius and Remus. 

“Just you wait,” James promised.

It had taken nearly six years for James to seize Y/N’s attention. These days she’d actually have a conversation with him, she’d even laugh at the jokes he made just for that very reason. That, and to watch her smile grow. He hadn’t thought much of Y/N in the beginning, considering she was a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor. But as he grew older, a little wiser, both him and his friends had realised these divisions weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Sure, some Slytherins really were evil, but a lot of them weren’t. Some Ravenclaws were rather dopey, some Gryffindor’s a little too cowardly. 

It didn’t matter to him anymore.

As Remus headed to the library and Peter to the dorms, James chatted with Sirius, bringing up the idea of a prank to shake up the Monday morning to come. Sirius wasn’t so sure, but he could easily be persuaded. They walked through the halls of Hogwarts brainstorming ideas all afternoon, winding through the corridors before finally heading outside to enjoy the June sun. 

“It’s perfect, Padfoot, we just need Moony and Wormtail in on it too.”

“You know them, they’ll be up for it,” winked Sirius, lying back on the patchy grass not far from the Whomping Willow.

James leaned against the trunk of a tree, fiddling with a daisy in his hand as he thought of Y/N, now that his distraction had taken its leave. If only he could make her see he was worth her while. He pulled blades of grass from the soil below, ripping them to shreds as he thought of some way to make her see that she was missing out by not giving him a chance. He could be utterly perfect for her. 

“What are you two doing being so quiet?” Asked Y/N, blocking the sun from Sirius’ face as she stood over him. 

“Relaxing, Y/L/N. You should try it some time, maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight,” remarked Sirius without even opening his eyes. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned to James. “Something on your mind or?” She nodded to the pile of ripped up grass at James’ feet. 

He looked down sheepishly. “No,” he said bluntly, unable to think of an excuse or a sarcastic response to keep the conversation flowing. 

Y/N felt a small pang of embarrassment and went to go on her way. Had she upset him earlier? They always spoke that way to each other, she thought, it was just part of their banter.

James hit his hand to the floor muttering a profanity under his breath as he shot up. He hesitated before going after her. Over the past weeks he struggled to know what to say to her like he used to. For a while he thought he was losing his touch or that something in her manner had changed his own. But she was just as she was before. It was him who had changed.

“Wait up, Y/N!” He shouted. 

Y/N spun around, scrunching her brows together in confusion. As she waited for James to catch up, she wondered what he could have to say to her that he couldn’t have said before when she was clearly making an effort to talk. 

“Sorry about before,” James said, “Don’t know why I just said that.” 

She melted into his apology. “It’s okay. Are you alright?” 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m all right. You just caught me thinking, that’s all,” James laughed, taking slow steps with her towards the castle. 

“What were you thinking about?” Asked Y/N. “Not your Potions assignment, surely?” She laughed. 

James laughed too. Merlin, he did love to hear her laugh. “Of course not, I’ll just get an extension for that or something. No, just thinking about what Sirius and I have planned for tomorrow.”

Y/N tensed. She hated that they were always scheming, that he was. “Not another prank?”

James quickly felt himself become defensive, though he wished he could have stopped it. “What’s wrong with that?” He snapped.

Y/N stopped, turning to James. Behind him was the view of the tumbling Scottish hills, shades of green spilling over onto one another, all the way down to the water that shimmered in the sunlight. She leaned over the side of the bridge, and James followed her.

“I just don’t get it, James,” she started. He loved it when she called him by his name, his first name. “School is hard enough, you know? We’re all just trying to make it through to the end when we can finally feel safe enough to be ourselves. For most people, they can’t be themselves here, they’re just trying to fit in so things aren’t so hard. You and your mates make it that much harder for all of us. You always seem to single out the people who just want to be invisible.”

James felt almost as if he was being attacked. She’d never said anything like this before. “You never seemed to mind before,” James grunted. 

“Just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean I didn’t have an opinion. Just thought you’d grow out of it, is all,” she shrugged, continuing her slow walk back to the castle. 

So really, this whole time he never stood a chance. She was baiting him? He couldn’t help but take this as a personal attack, as much as he wanted not to do so. “I don’t understand-”

“No, you won’t understand,” sighed Y/N. “I’m not trying to attack you.” 

She traced his thoughts as easily as a well-worn path. 

“I’m just saying I don’t think you realise how harmful your stupid pranks can be for people who already have it hard.”

“They’re just pranks.”

“But they’re not. Publicly humiliating people is not a prank, it’s cruel. Haven’t you ever thought, after all these years, there’s other ways to make people laugh without hurting them?”

James was taken aback. She’d suggested something no one ever had done before. Did he really do this sort of thing just for attention? Sure he liked the way it made him feel, the way people laughed because of something he had done, the way people greeted him in the corridors, knew his name before he had introduced himself. But he hadn’t realised it might have all started because he wanted people to see him. It was just fun, wasn’t it? 

That’s all it was.

But before he had the chance to tell this to Y/N, the person whom he needed to convince, she was gone, thinking perhaps it really was best to keep her distance.

- - -

James had spent days thinking over what Y/N had told him, about the can of worms she had opened inside him. He didn’t go through with the prank he had planned for that Monday morning, and had not thought of following through on any of the ideas the rest of his friends had come up with either. All he could think about was Y/N and what she had said. 

The hours he spent mulling over it had done some damage. Perhaps he was just in it for the way it made him feel, knowing so many people adored him or at least liked him. The way first years knew who he was before any of the professors, the way they looked up to him. The laughter he brought to the school and the swell of pride he felt in hearing it. But after he thought of this with much gratification, he lingered on the other side of it. 

How many people had he left crying in their dorms, frightened to come to class and see him again? He remembered one Slytherin he’d fed vomiting candy to - Merlin, they spewed their guts up all over the classroom. He had never once thought how he would feel if it had happened to him, because his friends would never do that. They were the instigators, not the receivers. He wondered how many students avoided him any chance they could. He wondered at the empty seats next him in the lessons he didn’t share with Sirius or Remus.

It was tedious, he had never had to think of all these repercussions before.

“James, mate, what is wrong with you lately?” Sirius asked, settling into an armchair by the common room fireplace. 

James shook his head, twirling his wand between his fingers, eyes pouring into the fire in front of him. “What if we changed the way we pranked people?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Sirius, waving Remus and Peter over.

- - -

The next morning James enacted his plan. It was elaborate in the way that he had to be up nearly all night with Remus, Sirius and Peter to make sure it worked. He hadn’t really spoken to Y/N much since their conversation nearly a week ago but he was desperate to see her smile. He was desperate to make her smile, in the hopes it would break the tension between them.

Being the reason for her smile made him feel as if he had accomplished something worthwhile. 

The four of them sat in the Great Hall, anxiously eating their breakfast as they waited for it to begin. Sirius was not at all confident - it was so unlike them, so ‘off brand’ as he had described it. Remus, on the other hand, quite liked the idea and was committed to its success. Peter hated it, but didn’t care as long as James stopped dragging through the days - for he had been awfully boring as of late, Peter thought.

James fought to look behind him to the Slytherin table, but at least twice every few minutes he failed. He watched her for as long as she permitted him to - for as long as he went unnoticed. It was Y/N, in fact, that alerted him to the beginning of their stunt. She turned to the doors of the Great Hall as the first of the owls swooped in, dropping various letters at a plethora of tables. 

“I’ve got a howler,” a student gasped from the Hufflepuff table. 

One of their friends consoled them with a pat on the back and a sigh. “Just get it over with.”

The Hufflepuff was about to rip open the sealed letter when another student behind them declared they had received one too. At first, they had imagined it as coincidental bad luck, but there began a chorus of students admitting the same fate. Y/N looked around in confusion as students began to stand and show their respective howlers. And then she knew. Her eyes flickered to James in a silent rage, knowing he had not grasped the gravity of her words, that he had absorbed nothing, and that her words that day had been taken by the wind, scattered amongst the hills of the highlands.

None of the students had opened their howlers as of yet, waiting for the last of them to be delivered from the owls still filtering in and out of the hall. She watched James through the rain of letters, keeping her eyes fixed on him until a letter of her very own fell onto her plate.

As the last owl departed, students began looking around apprehensively at each other, soundlessly deliberating on who would be the first to open their howler or if anyone would open one at all. But it was a Slytherin who opened theirs before anyone else, watching as the letter assumed sentience and hovered in midair. It said nothing, simply popped with a quiet bang and exploded in confetti. The Slytherin watched it, speechless and in shock.

One by one, students began opening their howlers, and the hall was soon filled with low pops and colourful confetti. The coloured pieces of paper hung aloft, painting the bland stone walls in coloured refraction as the sun shone through the tall windows. Y/N watched the scene with a radiant smile that had slowly drawn across her face. Finally, Y/N opened her own howler and watched it pop, exploding with confetti and flowers, floating down from a short distance above her table down over her hair and plate. 

She caught James’ eye across the room, laughing with her friends. She said nothing, mouthed nothing, gave him nothing but a smile. But to James, this was enough. 

They were talking again like they used to, becoming more intimate than they had ever been. Something had shifted within their relationship and James felt the more he learned about her, the harder he began to fall. Y/N felt as if distance from James Potter was the last thing that would make her happy.

He talked to her about music, muggle movies, even books, though he had read very few. They talked about their ambitions, about their favourite foods and hobbies, their favourite ways to spend a sunny afternoon.

“A bunch of people are going down to the Black Lake this Saturday,” Y/N said, looking at James, “Are you going?”

“I might be,” James smirked, “Do you want me to?”

Y/N blushed, shaking her head. “Don’t get too cocky, Potter.”

Yes, James thought, she wanted him to. Good.

“Yeah, I’m going,” he said softly.

“Good.”

James felt his stomach churn as a warm rush swirled through his body. His heart beat with such ferocity at the mere notion of Y/N wanting to be near him. He was both intoxicated and exhilarated from the mere presence of her. How he yearned for Y/N. If only he could prove himself to be worthy of her. He knew she would only bring out the best in him, he knew she would open his eyes to new ways of living which before, he could but dream of. 

James knew he needed her, he just wished she wanted him.

- - -

He could not wait another minute to head down to Black Lake. She was probably already there, and he was losing precious minutes. There were simply not enough seconds in the day for him to admire Y/N the way she deserved to be admired. He rushed with heat in his cheeks and warmth in his heart to the lake, his friends flagging behind. He saw her from a distance, lounging on a picnic blanket with her friends, a nearby tree providing them with shade, though the both of them sat in the sunlight that everyone knew was not to last in Scotland and must be taken advantage of. 

He felt his heart pumping the blood through his body. She looked truly beautiful. 

“James is staring at you,” Y/N’s friend teased. 

“Good,” she laughed. 

The sun shone through him, she could see his beauty even from this far. Though she knew the moment she woke up that this was going to be a good day, and that she was happy in the friends she had and the life that she had built, she didn’t really feel happiness until she saw James. Yes she was happy, but he made her feel so.

“He’s coming over,” her friend hissed in excitement.

“All right, Y/N?” Asked James, strolling over to their designated tree. 

“Just fine, Potter. You’re here a bit late, you know? All the good trees have gone.”

James laughed, looking around. “Shame. Wonder if anyone would be willing to share.” 

Y/N looked around at the many students that had flocked to the lake to enjoy the sun. They were all in their own worlds, enjoying their own days. “Doesn’t look likely.”

Y/N enjoyed the moments that led up to what she wanted. “Oh, you mean you want to share with us?” Y/N looked toward her friend who only rolled her eyes. 

She had given prior permission had James acted out this very scenario.

“I suppose you can share with us, if you have to.”

“My goodness, Y/N, how kind of you,” James bowed in thanks, eliciting a small chuckle from her. 

He waved his friends over and settled next to Y/N and her friend beside their tree. James sat nearest to Y/N. He stared at the side of her face, the way her neck accentuated when she turned her head, the way her cheeks plumped when she smiled. 

After nearly an hour chatting amongst themselves, Sirius and Peter left to walk down to the shore. The two of them were complaining of the heat and fancied a cool down. Soon after, Remus offered Y/N’s friend to join him in dipping his feet in the shallow shoreline. She obliged his request, winking at Y/N before she left.

Her cheeks flushed as she waved her off dismissively. 

“And then there were two,” laughed James. 

Y/N laughed too, turning to really focus all her attention on him for the first time since he had joined them nearly an hour ago. James suddenly felt under a spotlight, it was as if perfection was asking for him to imitate her to his greatest ability, and yet he knew he was to fall short. 

“Err, I- You look nice,” James stuttered.

It was amusing to see him this way, but she almost took pity. “Thanks,” laughed Y/N. 

She put him at ease, just the way she looked at him as she always did. He fell into his usual rhythm, chatting and teasing and joking with her. He felt more connected to her than he ever had been. He shifted closer, and she could feel the heat radiating from him. It ignited her with such an intensity she couldn’t help but shift uneasily, fiddling with her fingers and breathing a little more unevenly than before. James could think of nothing more natural to do at this moment. And as it so happened, there was nothing he longed for more than this.

He leaned in, breath hitching as he caught the scent of her perfume she’d applied hours before in the early morning. He watched the fine hairs on her neck stand up on end. As his eyes flickered to hers he realised her gaze had softened, her pupils wide, anticipating his next move. 

“James!” Sirius called from the water. “He’s gonna kill me!”

Upon hearing his name James turned to its origin. Peter was waterboarding Sirius. 

“Fuck,” he breathed under his breath. 

Y/N had already been snapped from her reverie, and was laughing awkwardly as Sirius flailed around in the water. James, though extremely disappointed, laughed along with her before dragging himself up and heading to the shoreline. 

The moment was lost.

Y/N watched intently as James stripped his clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, for he had not thought he would be entering the water that day. He preferred staying dry. With her mouth agape, Y/N examined the grooves of his body and the way his skin stretched over his toned muscles. How she wished they hadn't been interrupted. It felt as if she had waited a lifetime to embrace James - there was always something in their way.

More often than not, it was James himself.

James launched himself in the water, coming up for air and sweeping his sopping hair back. After a few moments of tearing his friends apart, Y/N watched the three of them discuss something. She instantly became nervous, but checked herself and calmed down, believing James to have taken her advice on board. But as she watched the three of them lift their wands, she couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat.

Sprinkles and spirals of water danced above the students in the lake, forming creative and pretty shapes, conjured by James and his friends. While everyone was distracted by the shimmering water droplets playing a scene in front of them, none of them noticed the series of waves headed towards the body of students. 

In an unrelenting sequence, towering waves crashed the shallow end of the lake, filling it almost to neck height. Students screamed and laughed, swimming to safety. Some chuckled in annoyance, some in good humour. There were few who cursed James out and others who scurried away in a quiet rage. But Y/N, with her heart pounding and legs carrying her faster than they ever had before, was screaming in terror. 

“Stop! Stop!” 

She forced herself into the water, sinking below the surface, swimming with such purpose. James had not noticed her yet, too caught up in the heat of the moment with his friends, taking pleasure in their antics. It was Remus who first caught a glimpse of Y/N waving frantically before launching herself back under the water, seemingly searching for something. 

“James! Stop!” She pleaded.

Y/N searched desperately for the Slytherin girl. Desperately in fear. Finally, with one more piercing scream for James to stop what he was doing, he heard her, and put a stop to the incoming waves in an instant. Y/N looked around the water, searching and searching for signs of movement as the height of the lake slowly decreased and returned to normal. 

A hand reached above the surface, silently pleading for some sort of relief. Y/N rushed forward, grabbing her with such a force, pulling her to the surface. The poor girl coughed and spluttered, accumulating as much as oxygen as she could in a single breath. 

James and the others rushed towards her, helping Y/N drag her out of the water. Though the girl clung to Y/N as she reached safety, she left her in the capable hands of her friend. 

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

“What is wrong with you? She can’t swim!” bellowed Y/N. 

She threw her hands to her head, shaking it in shock and disbelief, trembling with adrenaline and fury. She really thought James was susceptible to change. “I thought you were done with this sort of shit, James. She could have died! She could’ve-”

Oh, but it didn’t matter. What was the point of screaming when it all fell to deaf ears? Sometimes people weren't meant to intertwine.

But still she felt so disappointed in someone she saw such capability, such potential in, that she thought she could cry there at that very moment in front of everyone. The moment she felt as if he really was lost to her.

“This is over, Potter.”

- - -

James had not been himself for weeks. 

He could not forgive himself for what he had done - to the girl, to Y/N, to himself. He cursed that day as his undoing. He was unkempt, uncaring and could think of nothing but Y/N, though now she would not even grace him with a look. He had never seen someone so disappointed in him, had never cared for others disappointment in him. He had never learned the type of humility that came with adhering to the expectations of those who esteemed him. 

He had never wanted to.

He enjoyed where being selfish got him. At first, Sirius tried to persuade him that James shouldn’t want Y/N to change him anyway, that he shouldn’t have to, just for some girl. And he was right, he shouldn’t have to change. He didn’t want to change. He wanted to be better, for her. But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose what made himself James Potter.

Pranks had become the way in which James expressed himself. And it was the only way he knew how to communicate with Y/N now. 

After weeks of self pity and wallowing, James pulled himself together, more determined than ever before. This wasn’t about a feeling he wished to maintain, about a popularity he desired to be upheld. It was about admitting he was wrong and that he could do better.

He started off slow, cautious. He knew this was important to win back her trust. He started by pretending to be McGonagall’s secret admirer - flowers, chocolates and love letters written on her black board all causing sniggers in class whenever it was brought up. Harmless fun.

Then he moved onto bigger things. 

James managed to steal a few personal items of some fellow students. A pair of shoes, a quill, a textbook. When people finally began to realise, James announced at dinner that he had hidden these personal items and would offer a Galleon to all those who managed to locate the whereabouts of their personal belongings. If they did not succeed in the next twenty four hours, they were not to fear, James would return them all safe and sound. 

James’ efforts had not escaped Y/N’s notice, not in the least. She wished beyond anything it could be enough to fix what he had broken, to mend what he had handled so carelessly. She had almost resigned herself to the notion they didn't belong, but a glimmer of hope kept her awake during the nights, hoping she might be wrong after all.

She could feel him watching her, gauging to see whether her feelings toward him were changing. She kept her cards close to her chest, and gave nothing away, hoping James would not see through her carefully constructed shield. 

While she valued his efforts, it was not enough. She still felt as if she had overstepped her boundaries and that she should have left well enough alone. Besides, she couldn’t begin to trust him again until he did the unthinkable. 

“Apologise?!” James scoffed. 

“It’s a completely logical solution!” Remus retorted. 

“I know! Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that? But I- I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say,” James sighed and shook his head. 

He’d never had to apologise above more than a quick, half-hearted “sorry, mate” with a slap on the back and a swift moving on. He didn’t know how to truly convey his feelings into an apology, how to make it sound like he meant it. 

“All you’ve been talking about is making it right with her,” Remus reminded him. “This is your chance.” 

James knew he was right, but this did not take away from the fact he still did not know how. 

- - -

Y/N had been trying to study for three hours now, but was always distracted by something outside the castle walls or some sound within the library. She couldn’t concentrate, she could think of nothing else but how much she wished James could understand or at least show that he was trying. But, as violently as she craved this, she didn’t want to force some kind of change on him and end up being resented for it in the end. 

She shouldn’t have to change someone in order for them to fit her standards. And James shouldn't feel obliged to change for her either.

If she wanted him to change at all, it was only to see him succeed.

Change. So complicated, so understudied. What did it mean to change? What really was it, at its core? What did it mean to her, to James, to love and to hate? How closely and blurred the lines of love, hate, desire, and resentment really were.

For another hour she tried to write notes on the theory of Charms. In the end, Y/N thought, she just wanted to talk to him, to hear his thoughts and listen. Even if nothing came from it, she yearned for some sort of closure. At least then, she might be able to move on.  Nonetheless she pushed James to the sidelines, pushing that small sliver of hope down into the depths of her memory.

Meanwhile, James was pacing the Gryffindor common room. Everything sounded wrong, fake and disingenuous. Regardless, James began to search the grounds of Hogwarts for his target, practicing some sort of speech in his head as he did so.

“Y/N?” Someone pulled her from her day dream. 

James himself. 

“Oh, hey.” 

“Can we talk? Can I talk?” James asked. 

Y/N nodded to the seat in front of her. She closed her textbook and waited for what he had to say. 

“Look, I’ve always been a bit…selfish, a bit shallow. Never really thought to be anything else ‘cause everything’s always worked out for me the way I wanted it to,” he began. “I-” James shook his head. This was pointless. 

“Fuck. Okay, I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what happened. Not just because it upset you and it might have ruined my chances, but I’m sorry about the girl and for what I did to her. I’ve already set things right in that respect and don’t get me wrong, it felt good to do that, but I’ll never be right until I fix things with you. Or at least try to,” he explained, rambling. “I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve changed me or that I have to change for you, I don’t think that’s how it should work. But since I’ve gotten to know you I’ve wanted to be better and I have been. I like the way you make me feel, I’ve liked the way I’ve felt from doing things differently. Merlin, anyway, now I feel stupid. I’m just sorry.” 

Y/N listened without judgement, without interruption. She thought for a moment, letting James absorb the silence. He was certainly going lengths to make amends, and she appreciated his candor, his efforts. She couldn’t help a small smile perch upon her lips as she looked over at James, so sullen. What she was afraid of was not coming to fruition.

The person she desired could still be hers if she wanted him to be.

“Thank you,” she smiled. 

James lit up. “You forgive me?” He asked. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think too. I think it was unfair of me to put those kind of standards on you. And I don’t think it was your intention, for once, to hurt anybody that day. It was reckless but it wasn’t malicious. Yeah, I forgive you.” 

“Thank Merlin,” James let out a sigh of relief and he knew he could put his final plan into action. Something he had been planning since the day he met her, he just didn’t know it. "By the way, you didn't force anything on me. I didn't change for you, but you showed me the person I could be and I liked the way he looked."

Y/N didn't know what to say, only smiled softly.

“I um-” James rubbed the back of his head. “I missed chatting with you.” He could actually feel the heat burning in his cheeks. 

“Me too, Potter.” 

She felt the familiar feelings she had for James bubble to the surface once more. She was no longer concerned with keeping them in check. So easy it was for James to earn her forgiveness.

- - -

Y/N saw James again the next day at breakfast, just as she was finishing up. She headed over to his table, greeting his friends before asking if she could sit. 

James found this a little odd, she’d never bothered with his mates before. 

“All right?” James asked, playing it cool. He didn’t want to embarrass her, whatever she was doing. 

“Yeah, thanks. So listen, my friend is throwing a small party tonight down by the Forbidden Forest. I know, I know, probably a bad idea but there’s a few people going, not just Slytherins,” Y/N eyed the four of them. “She said we could invite people, so I wondered if you guys might like to go?” 

Remus and Sirius smirked at each other knowingly, while Peter eagerly accepted her invitation. James stared at her, a brilliant smile adorning his features. 

Merlin, she was beautiful. And she wanted to spend quality time with him.

“Yeah, we’d love to go,” James answered for the rest of the group. 

James spent the rest of his day deciding what he should wear and thinking about the possibilities this party could present. Down by the Forbidden Forest, Y/N drenched in firelight. His mind swam amongst the potential. 

“Ready to go, Prongs?” asked Remus. 

James nodded, flicking the collar of his jacket up. He was as ready as he’d ever be.

Y/N waited by the fire, eyeing the direction of the castle, keeping her eyes fixed to the last piece of land the fire illuminated. She’d been waiting a mere ten minutes but it felt like an age. Where was he? 

She didn’t quite know why she had been so bold as to invite him and his friends to this party. She wasn’t sure what she thought it would achieve, if it would achieve anything. What she knew was that she liked the way James made her feel, she liked that she felt important to him.  

“Can you chill out? Have a beer or something,” her friend offered her a freshly opened bottle.

Y/N took it off her hands and took a swig, turning from the empty abyss ahead and instead focussed on the party. Her friends were already a few beers down by the time she had arrived; she had a little catching up to do. 

Meanwhile James had taken a shot of firewhiskey on the way down as liquid courage. Sirius was patting him hard on the back, hoping this would somehow help the spluttering that followed his single shot. 

“Wimp,” Remus sighed. 

“Fuck of, Moony.” 

Remus shook his head in disappointment, taking a swig of firewhiskey straight from the bottle and moving onwards towards the Dark Forest. Peter caught up with him, asking for a drink, but Remus only laughed. 

James recollected himself, smoothing down his hair and flicking the collar of his jacket up once more, ignoring the burning in his stomach. He continued down the hill to the Dark Forest, seeking the light of a blazing fire until finally, he saw a flicker of orange in the distance. There, Y/N would be waiting. 

“Why do you even bother with Potter?” Asked her friend. 

“I don’t know. There’s more to him.” 

“There’s not much more, lad’s a kiddy pool.” 

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” 

“Whatever,” her friend laughed. “If you’re hung up on him, then I’ll support you.” 

“Hung up on who?” asked James, approaching. 

Y/N smacked her friend’s arm, she’d done that on purpose. “No one!” Y/N lied, turning to face James. 

He looked…nice. 

James let it go. “All right?” 

Y/N nodded. “I’m a couple bottles down, so yeah, I’m pretty good,” she laughed. “Want a drink?” 

“I’d love one.” 

James and Y/N all but abandoned the party for each other’s company. They talked more than they had for quite a few weeks. James was elated with how easily they fell back into rhythm. It was so easy to talk to her, he felt he could reveal his deepest secrets without even knowing he’d done so, even if she hadn’t asked. But, he didn’t really have any. He was, for the most part, an open book. 

And this is what Y/N liked. James was all on the surface. And because of this, sometimes it was hard to see who he was, because he laid it all out on the table, everything mingled together, everything messy and unorganised. One really had to look at James to understand him. 

But she read him like he was a language only she knew how to translate. 

The embers of the fire still burned hot, but the fire itself had long fizzled out. The cold summer air nipped at Y/N’s skin, and James could see the shivers trembling through her body. Most had returned to their dorms, but there were the odd few still sitting around the fire, chatting with their friends. 

“Here,” James wrapped his jacket around Y/N’s arms. 

She shifted closer to him as he wrapped his coat around her, looking up at his flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looked like someone she could love. Y/N had been waiting at a crossroad, stoic in this stillness as she waited. James, sometimes lost in the detours, had finally reached her. This moment had been building to its peak for an age.

“Y/N-” but he was brutally interrupted.

“Filch!” 

Everyone scattered. James took Y/N’s hand and led her behind a tree on the edge of the Forest away from the light of the fire and safe from Filch’s wandering eyes. He’d no idea where his friends had gone, and Y/N had no idea where hers were either. What she was agonisingly aware of, was that James had pushed her against a tree, watching the surrounding areas for any movement. He hadn’t realised how close to her he was. But she had. 

She felt James’s entire body flush against hers. His hand wrapped around her wrist, his neck pulsing with concern. The snap of a twig sounded in nearby proximity, and James instinctively brought his hand to Y/N’s mouth, silencing the gasp he knew was about to pierce the silence and alert someone as to their whereabouts.

Y/N felt her blood pumping in her veins, the heat rising to her face, her heart pounding in her chest.  She wanted him.

“Prongs? Is that you?” Someone whispered. 

James seemed to know what this meant, and responded with a low ‘yes.’ 

The marauders and Y/N snuck their way back into the castle without being caught and James left the rest of his friends to escort Y/N back to her common room. She thanked him at the door, finally letting go of his hand that she had been clasping ever since they had been hiding in the Forest. 

James wished he could have kissed her then, but he let her close the door behind her, and walked away with a quiet ‘good night.’ 

The next morning however, he spurred his plan into action. He spoke to people he never thought he’d have to, and never wanted to again. But it was worth it for the outcome he was hoping for.  

He knew this was to be his most elaborate “prank” yet. And if it was successful, it would be his most rewarding. 

The weekend could not come fast enough. Throughout the week he and Y/N shared lingering looks, caught each other staring from across the classroom, passed stupid doodles, laughed at cheesy jokes and pick-up lines that James had learnt from Sirius. He sat in the library with her while she studied; he watched, mostly.

And while the week had been one of the best he’d had so far, he couldn’t help but wish for it to go faster. And when Saturday morning finally arrived, he was more than ready. 

Y/N woke early in the morning, preparing for a day of studying, again. She showered quickly, got dressed and headed out of her common room for the Great Hall. 

“Hi Y/N,” her friend greeted, handing her a rose. 

“Uh, what’s this?” she asked. 

“A flower? Are you stupid?” 

“Bite me,” she chuckled. “Thanks?” 

But she only smiled and walked away. Odd. 

She carried on her way, heading up the great staircase, happening upon no one else until she reached the top. 

The Slytherin girl said nothing, simply handed her another rose and scurried off. Y/N stood dumbfounded for a moment, looking at the two roses in her hand before shrugging it off and walking onwards. People are weird, so what? 

When she reached the Great Hall doors, one of her Ravenclaw classmates called out to her. 

“Wait up!” He called, holding out a rose for her when he caught up. 

“What the Hell? Are you asking me out or something?” 

“No,” he sniggered. 

Y/N took the rose and watched him walk off, more confused than ever. She almost wanted to turn back to her common room and stay there for the rest of the day, safe where no one could find her. Something was off. 

But upon hearing her stomach growl, she braved the Great Hall and entered cautiously. Big mistake. Before she even got to her table, she’d received three more roses, practically holding a bouquet now. She just couldn’t understand this. Was there some kind of holiday she didn’t know about? 

Quickly shoveling down two pieces of toast, Y/N took herself and her roses out of the Great Hall and all but ran to the library where she could study in peace. But on her way she encountered two more people with two more roses. She couldn’t take this anymore, what was going on? 

It wasn’t until she saw Remus, Sirius and Peter standing at the doors in the library, a rose in each of their hands, that she realised this was all a joke, a mindfully constructed prank. She couldn’t help the smile that rose to her lips as she neared the boys. Accepting each of their roses, she thanked them. Following her thanks, they each outstretched their arms, inviting her inside where James awaited. 

Rose petals adorned the library floor, all the way to the aisle she had been studying in for weeks now. There, upon the desk that was wedged between the bookshelves, was a bouquet of roses. And James. 

He smiled effortlessly, a single rose in hand. 

“Hey,” she laughed in disbelief. 

“Hello, Y/N,” James smiled. 

“How’d you pull this off?” She asked, in awe of his efforts for her affection. 

“Doesn’t matter, love. What matters is whether you will agree to go on a date with me,” he said, handing her the last rose as an offering. 

“Where?” 

“That’s for you to find out, if you accept.” 

Y/N laughed, giving into her instincts. She wrapped her arms around James’ neck, inhaling his scent, feeling his skin against her face, his arms holding her, running up her back. 

“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes, holding him tighter, relishing in the feeling of finally having him.

Such relief. Y/N felt her new peace, her home wrapped in skin and flesh and a heartbeat. James.

She could feel him pulling away from this embrace, and she loosened her grip to look at him. His eyes were hooded, taking all of her in. 

“Finally,” he laughed, connecting his lips with hers in a fiery embrace that set their bones on fire.

tags 🏷️: @foolexby

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[pukefactory]

⋆༺𓆩 LONG TIME NO HEAT 𓆪༻⋆

✸ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Fire Spirit Cookie X Reader

✸ Character(s): Fire Spirit Cookie (Cookie Run)

✸ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

✸ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Image Credits: @Devsisters

ৡ He doesn’t ask you to follow him. He just glances back from the edge of Dragon’s Valley—molten air warping around his silhouette, cloak snapping in ember winds—and says, “Well? You comin’ or not?” Like it’s a dare. Like if you don’t keep up, you’ll be left behind with the smoke and the stories. (Spoiler: he’d still come back for you.)

ৡ He has a habit of picking fights with beings ten times his size just to impress you. “You see that guy? That guy looked at you weird, I swear.” You sigh. “He’s a mountain.” “A mountain that’s about to get charred.” Later, you patch up the scorched edge of his cape. “You’re lucky I like dumb ideas,” you mumble. He grins. “Lucky me, huh?”

ৡ Fire Spirit Cookie claims he doesn’t do “feelings.” Too soft. Too mortal. But when you’re hurt—even a scratch, even a bruise—his expression goes blank. Not angry. Still. The kind of stillness a wildfire has just before it leaps from the trees. “Who did this?” he asks, voice low and flat. He doesn’t wait for an answer. You’ve never seen the sky so red.

ৡ You once asked him what he really is—what happened before the Red Dragon’s Bead, before the power. He just laughed, flames flaring wild for a second. “Tch. You wanna know what I was before I burned bright?” He paused. Looked at you like no one else had ever asked. “…No one special. Just cold. Cold all the time.”

ৡ He gets jealous in the weirdest ways. Not possessive—more like competitive. You laugh too hard at someone else’s joke? He sets a nearby tree on fire by accident. You say you like stargazing? He tries to burn a constellation into the sky. “What? I’m just making it prettier,” he huffs. His bead pulses warmer when you call him ridiculous and kiss his cheek anyway.

ৡ His idea of romance is flying you through the lava flows of Dragon’s Valley at terminal velocity, cackling while shouting, “THIS IS SCORCHIN’ LOVE, BABY!” You scream the whole way. He has never looked happier. Later, he lets you ride on his back through calmer currents, hair like wildfire around your face. “You alright?” he asks, voice quieter. You nod. “Good. You’re the only one I’d let hold on this tight.”

ৡ When he’s exhausted—when even gods burn low—he finds you. Always. Doesn’t matter if you’re asleep, or halfway across Earthbread. You wake up to the smell of smoke and warmth curled beside you, his head on your lap, cloak strewn like shadows. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t go out, alright? Just… stay warm. Just for a while.”

ৡ He has scars. Real ones. You weren’t even sure fire could scar. You touched one once, and he flinched—actually flinched. “You shouldn’t…” he muttered, pulling away. But when you kissed the burn instead of asking what caused it, he stared like you’d just changed gravity. “You’re dangerous,” he whispered. “You make me want to be seen.”

ৡ Sometimes he flies too close to the edge. Seeks out chaos just to feel something. You’ve had to pull him back more than once. “Why do you care?” he sneers, every time, every time. “You shouldn’t care.” And every time, you do the same thing: take his hand, hold it tight, and say, “Because you’re not just fire, Fire Spirit. You’re light too.” His flames shudder. “Tch… That’s not fair.”

ৡ You’re the only one who’s ever made him hesitate. The only one who could say “Come back” and have him actually stop mid-flight. “…You’re serious?” he asks, hovering over a world he could reduce to cinders. You nod. No flames. No threats. Just you. He lands. Slowly. “…Guess the fire’s not done with you yet,” he says, but his eyes soften. “Guess I’m not.”

[whorelaud]

WRONG NUMBER, LOSER – rafe cameron (2)

a rafe cameron mini smau series

summary Rafe gets tangled in a complex love-hate relationship when shooting his shot at a party, merely for him to end up with the wrong number instead, leading to a new beginning, or so he assumed, unaware of who really was behind the screen; his next door neighbor, whom he'd define his sworn enemy.  contains neighbor!reader, enemies (?) to lovers, wrong number trope, mostly texts, sexual jokes, shameless flirting, loser!rafe, jealousy, lots of tension, attempt at humor

NAVIGATION. main masterlist; 01 ¡ 02 ¡ 03

Loser: Aye

Loser: Wsg 

Loser: Hello 

Loser: Uhmmmm 🫤 

Loser: ???

Loser: Did you delete my number alr? 

Loser: Am I tripping? Are my messages not going through 

You: bro 

Loser: There she is

Loser: Hey sugar ;) 

Loser: … Did you disappear again 

Loser: It hasn't even been a min :( 

You: shut

You: up

You: GUCK YOI LIKE ACTUAJLY 

Loser: Tf

Loser: What did I do? 

Loser: Biting my fingernails why are you edging me 

Loser: Mommy I’m scared

You: . 

Loser: Oh hey

Loser: You’re back 

You: sniffles 

You: you just got me scolded dumbass i hate you i hate you I hate You so much 

Loser: Huh 😧

Loser: Who scolded you baby

Loser: I’ll kick their asses 

You: boiii 🤨🤨

You: Ugh this is so annoying why’d you text me when it was dead silent 

Loser: I am so confused rn

Loser: What did I do exactly? 

You: Text me 

You: i forgot to turn dnd on WAHHH 😭😭😭 

You: i was tryna hit now that professor hates me :(

Loser: Oh 

Loser: How old is he 

You: 54 

Loser: Oh 

Loser: And how old are you?

You: 20 😊

Loser: Oh 

Loser: That’s nice sweetie

You: stop Ohing me 

You: it's no biggie hes only 34 yrs older

Loser: Girl he could be your dad

You: good thing he isnt

Loser: Bro...

Loser: This generation dawg

You: why are you judging me

You: god forbid a girl has hobbies

You: How old are you big fella 

Loser: Why do you wanna know? 

Loser: You interested in me or sum? ;) 

You: Die nvm 

Loser: No I’m sorry

Loser: I’m 24

You: 👴

Loser: Bro 

Loser: Wym by that 

You: Nothing old Man. 

You: No wonder you Type like That…

Loser: What the hell 

Loser: What’s wrong with the way I type 

You: Nothing honey you’re Doing Great keep it up 😘 

Loser: This is humiliating 

Loser: Why am I getting cyber bullied 

You: nah you'll be fine

You: taking it like a champ 

Loser: Oh… hehhehebeh 😅

You: What. 

You: Why are you Laughing old man

Loser: No reason 

You: Right…  

Loser: Wyd 

You: well i technically just got kicked out so now im walking around capmus waiting for my next class 

Loser: Seems fun 

You: im having soooo much fun thanks to someone 😊

Loser: I’m sorry 

Loser: I didn't mean to get you scolded sugar

Loser: Promise I won't disturb you during lesson hours from now on 

You: from now on??? YOU PLAN TO STICK ALONG??? 

Loser: I mean… You haven't blocked me yet

Loser: Taking it as a sign 

You: Dawg you're hella clingy… 

You: do you not have other ppl on your phone 

You: leave me ALONE 😭😭😭🙏 

Loser: Nah I like you

You: erm

Loser: Wait

Loser: Not like that

Loser: WAIT. 

Loser: You know what I mean right? 

Loser: I just think you're funny and cool hahahah 

You: mhm… 

Loser: Not that there’s anything wrong with liking you of course 

Loser: I mean you must be gorgeous 

You: How do you know I’m not an ugly discord kitten catfishing you for money

Loser: … Are you? 

You: wow okay 🙄

Loser: Just messing I know you’re pretty sugar 

You: Quit calling me that 

Loser: Why I think it’s cute

Loser: It suits you 

You: shut up 

Loser: Did that get you? 

You: get me as in… 

Loser: Idk 

Loser: You seem p flustered 

You: WHAT 

You: i literally just said shut up  

Loser: Yeah yeah they all say that 

You: ‘they’ referring to the two poor ladies you probably forced into a conversation? 

Loser: Hey 

Loser: A lot of women find me attractive 

You: never said you weren't

Loser: Woah

Loser: Are you flirting with me :D 

You: what No

You: We’re talking about conversations you’re the one who brought up being attractive 

Loser: That somehow hurt my feelings

Loser: Do you not think I’m attractive? 

Loser: Should I just die? 

You: k i never said that… 

You: i don't know what you look like its as simple as that 

Loser: Oh 

Loser: Should I doll myself up and send you a selfie 

You: No 

Loser: What why :( 

You: what if you’re ugly 

Loser: I am not ugly. 

You: everyone is a beautiful tootsie in their mother's eyes

Loser: My mom’s dead 

You: Oh… 

You: sorry 

Loser: It’s fine 

Loser: Wyd? 

You: walking

Loser: Still? Are you not tired?

You: im exhausted. ive been pacing around capmus for like fifteen minutes ugh 

Loser: When does your next class start? 

You: 3:20 

Loser: What the hell

Loser: That’s an hour from now

Loser: Go home and rest in the meantime 

You: that would be even more exhausting 

Loser: Is it a long ride? 

You: no 

You: i have a bitchy neighbor im not risking it 💔

Loser: Again with your fussy neighbor…

Loser: What is that son of a bitch doing to annoy you that much

You: exist 

Loser: Oh 

Loser: Sue him for existing?? 😅

You: i wish

You: he actually gets on my nerves 

You: always so cocky and for what this is why you don't get no bitches cunt

Loser: Hell yeah fuck that hoe why’s he being a bitch 😂 

Author – laughing like they’re not talking ab him… 

You: IM SAYINGGG 

You: You get me thank you 

Loser: I actually do 🫤

Loser: I too have a lousy neighbor it’s so difficult dealing with her

You: see now this is something we can bond over 

You: you found your purpose loser 

Loser: Loser? Hey >:( 

You: im starving 

You: my stomach just grumbled in front of fine shyt bury me alive 

Loser: It’s fate. You’re not meant to be. 

You: die are you praying on my downfall 

Loser: 🤷🏼‍♂️ 

Loser: Seriously though do grab a bite 

You: ugh i might 

Loser: I’ll leave you to it then ;) 

Loser: Eat and have fun in class sugar

You: dont call me that

Loser: Sorry baby

You: that too

Loser: Mb sweetheart 

You: bye. 

Loser: Js accept it next time 

You: I am Too hungry to be arguing with you right now. Bye. 

Loser: Okay. Bye. 

You hearted loser’s message! 

a/n hi :p this was fun def took a different approach but i went w the flow so yayyyy!! hope you enjoyed let me know what you think hehe!! ill try working on ch 3 faster these are acc super fun || also sorry for how much of a loser rafe is... i dont talk to men inhate them so im just making him sound like a facebook mom hope you guys dont mind hes just a cute tootsie...

taglist is currently open, feel free to let me know wether you want to be added/removed. however, in order to stay tagged, you must interact with the posts!

TAGLIST @rafeycameronsgf @nemesyaaa @totalswag @vanessa-rafesgirl @enchantingexile @my-name-is-baby @wintercrows @cl4uus @ethanthequeefqueen @emmasclaws @countryclubwhore @drewstarkeyzwhore @davinashifts333 @i-love-gvf @ayy1234567 @kissesandmartinis @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @mariamadison6-blog @harryzcherry @vdotcom

[dreamauri]

Could you please write something with Fernando when you’re Ayrton Sennas daughter. When you and Fernando first started dating and finally got married you decided to keep it a secret you wanted to enjoy you’re live together without the scrutiny from the outside world which would without a doubt would come if the public found out with you’re last name and you’re and Fernandos age difference but you couldn’t careless you’re pretty sure that some people will figure it out under them Lance which made it too his personal quest too get Fernando too talk about his personal live. The speculations only get worse when Alain congratulated Fernando when you gave birth to a boy not realizing that they get filmed. Much Love❤️

♪ — 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 fernando alonso x wife! senna! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . fernando likes to keep his life outside of an f1 paddock as private as possible, because it's not every day an Alonso gets married to Senna's younger daughter and has a boy with her.

( my master list | more of fernando alonso ) ( requests )

There’s a house in Oviedo that the press doesn’t know about.

It sits at the edge of town, near the woods, where the trees thicken and the sun spills gold through cracked shutters in the morning. It’s all quiet up here — the kind of quiet that can’t be bought with fame or fortune, only earned by sacrifice. This is where Fernando Alonso becomes just a man — not a champion, not a headline. Just a husband, a father.

Inside, you hum to yourself, barefoot on tile, a spoon of mashed avocado in one hand and a sleepy toddler in the other. Your boy — with his father’s eyes and your late father’s defiant brow — babbles nonsense through a gummy grin, fingers smearing green across the bib that says Papá’s Champion.

“Yeah? Is that so?” you laugh, brushing his hair back. He squeals, kicking, and your phone buzzes.

One message. Then three. Then ten.

The screen fills up like a warning light. Your fingers tremble as you scroll.

Did Prost really out you? Are you married to Alonso?? WTF, Y/N. YOU HAVE A BABY???

Your chest tightens. You barely hear the soft sound of your son dropping the spoon to the floor.

It happened.

You glance at the television across the room — volume low, a racing recap airing muted highlights — just in time to catch it: a blurry shot of Fernando laughing with Alain Prost, the older man’s voice still mic’d.

“Congratulations on the baby, Alonso. A son, no less. You and your wife must be over the moon,” Prost said with a soft smile. “I saw the photos. Your boy looks just like you.”

Your breath catches. The camera pans away too late. The footage is real. Raw. It aired.

You stare at it like it might change, like time could reverse.

“Fernando,” you whisper, grabbing your phone. “They know.”

It had started with stolen glances.

Portimão, five years ago. A WEC afterparty, golden wine and neon lights. You hadn’t meant to meet him — hadn’t planned to sit beside the legend your father once raced against, his legacy braided into yours through decades of track history and bloodline myth.

But he had leaned toward you with quiet curiosity, not flirtation, and asked, “Do you ever feel like your name isn’t yours?”

And you’d laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was true.

You’d danced once that night. And then again the next time you met. He never asked for your number, only said, “I’ll find you.”

And he did.

Every city, every season. Barcelona, Tokyo, Monaco. Always quiet, always private. No photos. No red carpet.

He loved you in the in-betweens — the sleepy mornings, the grocery runs, the scar behind your knee from a childhood fall. When he proposed, it was in your mother’s garden, hands covered in dirt from planting tulips.

“Say yes,” he said, breathless. “And I swear I’ll protect you from all of it.”

You said yes.

Two years married now. One child. Zero tabloid mentions — until today.

Fernando returned to Formula 1 like a man possessed — sharp, hungry, invincible again. But even in the chaos, he stayed private. Not cold, never. Just... contained. Like he carried something precious beneath his skin.

To the world, he was the bachelor prince of motorsport. Too fast for commitment. Too busy to settle.

But his teammate, Lance Stroll, had always found that a little too tidy.

“You never bring anyone to race weekends,” Lance pointed out once, half-teasing, half-prodding. “Even Max has a plus-one sometimes.”

Fernando shrugged. “I like my solitude.”

“Mmm.” Lance sipped his coffee. “Or maybe Oviedo’s just that interesting.”

Fernando’s jaw twitched. A subtle thing. Most people wouldn’t have caught it. But Lance had grown up under scrutiny, too. He knew how to see what wasn’t said.

Later that night, he found a receipt in the simulator office. Oviedo. Children’s clothing boutique. Paid in cash.

Lance never mentioned it. But he started watching closer.

It was a Netflix crew, staying late to shoot B-roll for DTS.

They weren’t meant to catch anything useful. Just paddock shots, maybe a few driver interviews. Alain Prost had stopped by for a surprise visit, all smiles and nostalgia.

When he greeted Fernando, they embraced like old war generals. And Alain — always sharp, but not mic-conscious — leaned in with a grin.

“Congratulations on the baby, Alonso. A son, no less. You and your wife must be over the moon.” Prost said with a soft smile. “I saw the photos. Your boy looks just like you,”

“He has Yn’s eyes,” Fernando answered, so softly and quietly. “We named him Ayrton.”

The crew caught every word. Every frame.

It aired five days later — a 10-second snippet buried in a longer feature.

But fans are scavengers. They clipped it. Cropped it. Shared it with captions like:

FERNANDO HAS A BABY? FERNANDO HAS A WIFE?? WHO IS HIS WIFE???

Within hours, #WHOISTHEWIFE was trending in Spain and Brazil, the fandom going feral in real-time.

At first, no one knew. The identity of the mysterious mother was the crown jewel of F1 conspiracy culture. But then — someone made the connection. The baby’s name.

Ayrton.

And with that, the internet spiraled. Theories turned to threads. Threads turned to receipts.

“It has to be someone connected to Senna.” “What if... it’s his daughter?” “Wait. Didn’t she disappear from the public eye a few years ago?” “FERNANDO. ALONSO. MARRIED. SENNA’S. DAUGHTER??”

And just like that, you had been found. Not with a press release. Not with a soft reveal.

No.

They found you like hunters in the forest — following the breadcrumbs you never meant to drop.

You watched the storm bloom from your couch in Oviedo, one arm wrapped around your son as your whole life unraveled in pixels. Faces you'd never met were stitching together your love story like it was a puzzle box.

Your phone rang just after sunset.

“Mi vida,” Fernando said, his voice low. “I saw it. I’m so sorry—”

“I know,” you interrupted. “I know. It’s not your fault.”

You could hear him breathing hard, like he’d been running. Or pacing. “I never wanted you to be exposed like this.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said again, though your throat ached like you'd swallowed glass. “I always knew it wouldn’t stay secret forever.”

“I should’ve told them. About you. About our son. Maybe not everything, but... something.”

You closed your eyes, heart pounding under the quiet weight of it all. “What do we do now?”

A beat. Then his voice — quieter. Stronger. Like the eye of the storm.

“We stop hiding.”

Fernando wore his wedding ring for the first time on a race weekend in Italy.

Not on a chain. Not tucked into a drawer. But boldly, openly, on his left hand — gleaming in the sun as he tightened his gloves, as he signed autographs, as he stood for press photos.

There was no press conference. No prepared statement. He simply was — as if this was how it had always been.

And maybe it was. Maybe the truth had always lived in the way he smiled after races, the way he flew home the second the checkered flag waved, the way he rarely posted on Instagram but always checked yours.

The paddock noticed. The fans noticed.

And back in Oviedo, so did you — watching from your quiet living room as your son clapped and pointed at the screen, babbling “Papá” through a mouthful of banana.

You touched your own ring. Still warm.

They never fully stopped talking.

You were Ayrton Senna’s daughter. He was Fernando Alonso. Of course they speculated.

But over time, the noise softened.

Photos emerged — the three of you on a beach, grainy but sweet. The internet went insane, but it couldn’t change what you had.

Your home stayed your sanctuary. Your son learned to say fast before he learned to say car. The world kept spinning, faster and faster, but for once, you weren’t chasing it.

Fernando came home between races and kissed you like the world hadn’t fallen apart.

“You’re not mad?” he’d asked one night, after the baby had fallen asleep.

“No,” you whispered. “I’m relieved.”

Because after five years of shadows, after vows exchanged in quiet corners, you were finally seen.

And still safe.

And still in love.

[forever-rogue]

I don't know if this is a silly idea so if it is I apologize!

But could you write something where Tommy and the reader were seeing each other in Austin but with all the commotion they didn't have time to look for each other when they were fleeing so they both moved on thinking the other one was killed, but the reader suddenly ends up in Jackson and they get to reunite

AN | Ahh, this has been in my drafts for so long! Reminder that I am also a Tommy Miller enthusiast. I love this concept and I hope you do too 🥰 

Pairing | Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How much longer is it until we’re there?” you were whining, and you knew it. But quite honestly, you didn’t care. You were cold, tired, and hungry, and your feet were killing you. Ellie looked at you and snickered softly; she was young and spritely, everything seemed easy for her. 

“Not much longer if you’d stop your whining,” Joel turned back to you as you gave him an indignant little huff. You knew he was teasing; the two of you butted heads a lot but there was nothing but affection behind it all, “think you can manage?”

“I guess,” you waved him off and fell into step with Ellie, “you know, this place better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promised and you wanted to believe him. You hoped he was right…things had been hard the last few months and honestly, you really just wanted a nice long break, “trust me.”

“The last time I trusted you, Joel, I ended up on this crazy journey with you and the kid,” you snorted in amusement as the two of them stared at you in surprise, “and - and - I wouldn’t change it for the world. So calm down and stop glaring daggers at me.”

“You know-” but Joel was quickly cut off by the sound of hooves, shouts, and barks. This definitely wasn’t good. 

You exchanged a look with Joel and the two of you surrounded Ellie to make sure she was as hidden as possible. It really was no use because the three of you were as exposed as could be. 

Fuck. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So…many things didn’t turn out as badly as they could have. In fact, it seemed like it really just turned into…the best possible situation. 

You’d not only found your way to Jackson, which already just from the outside was a lot to take in, but Joel had managed to find his brother. It was a shock on both ends but, you realized, life had been a lot like that lately. 

For the first time in a long time, you even allowed yourself to believe that things might actually work out. Hope. It was an odd thing really. 

But it was Joel’s shout that started you out of your little daydream fantasy. You almost slipped off the horse at the sudden shift of him yelling, "Tommy!"

You exchanged a look with Ellie before turning to look in the direction that Joel was currently running to. He'd almost jumped off his horse and was taking off in the direction of another dark haired man. How very curious.

The party came to a stop and the two of you got off your own horses before hesitantly walking over. It appeared that the two brothers had really missed each other. 

Joel let go of the younger man and turned to the two of you with a beaming smile, "this is my younger brother, Tommy."

You turned to the raven-haired man, ready to introduce yourself to him when everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Time stood still as you realized that you too knew Tommy - at least once upon a lifetime ago you had.

He must have realized at the same time as you had because all he could do was silently look at you in awe. You weren't even sure how to really respond - you hadn't seen him in twenty years. Yet here he was, right as rain and the same as ever.

"Tommy?" You asked softly as he nodded, repeating your name just as quietly. Confusion marred Ellie and Joel's faces, unsure of what was going on, "oh my god."

He hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out and pulling into a hug. A sound somewhere between a sob and laugh escaped your lips as you hugged him back with just as excitement.

You had been sure you'd never see him again. You'd made peace with the fact that the love of your life was dead. 

And yet…there he was. Alive and well. Your Tommy.

When you reluctantly pulled apart, he cradled your face in his hands, tenderly brushing away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It still felt so unreal, like a wild day dream.

"Does anyone want to explain what's going on here?" Ellie decided to cut through the tender moment and Joel groaned slightly. He was such a dad sometimes, despite what he insisted. 

"Ellie."

"It's okay," you promised, "Tommy and I…we used to…we were dating. Back…you know."

"Before," he finished for you, catching your eye and offering a shy smile, "before everything fell apart."

"Wait…" Joel looked between the two of you, pointing at each of you in turn. He repeated your name and realization dawned on him, "its you? All this time…shit-"

"Language!"

"You've been Tommy's girl?" He was more incredulous than either of you, "how did I never…realize?"

"To be fair, I haven't been anyone's girl in a long time," you stared at your feet, trying not to focus too much on the fact that everyone was staring at you, "and I didn't put two and two together to realize you were his brother. So."

"So," Tommy echoed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Neither of you were quite sure what to say; you never thought you'd been in this position again, "why, ugh, why don't we get you guys settled in? Seems like you might be staying a while."

"Great!" Ellie was able to cut through any of the tension as she stepped between you and Tommy, grabbing hold of his arm. You breathed a small sigh of relief; things had quickly gotten to a point where you didn't know what to even think.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you but remained silent otherwise. The look was never enough to kill you; damn these Miller brothers. You huffed, "don't say a word, Joel."

He held up his hands in mock surrender as you huffed and followed after Ellie and Tommy.

Well. This day had definitely not gone according to plan. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that initial afternoon of introductions and reunions, you managed to avoid Tommy for a few days. It wasn't too hard in Jackson; there were way more people than you had initially imagined. It felt so strange, but wonderful, to be somewhere that felt…normal again. Between that and Tommy, it almost seemed like things really were almost like they had been all those years ago.

"Hey there," his soft voice cut through your thoughts as you turned your gaze away from the softly falling snow and onto him. You stiffened for a moment before smiling at him.

"Hey Tommy," you moved over on the bench and brushed off the powdery fluff. He beamed at the silent invitation and sat down next to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, "I was almost sure you'd been avoiding me."

"I-I wasn't…avoiding you," it was a lie and you both knew it. Tommy laughed, and you realized just how much you loved his laugh. It had always been one of your favorite things. 

"You've always been a horrible liar," he gently nudged your knee with his and you couldn't help the shy smile that bubbled up, "I guess time doesn't change everything."

"I guess not," your stomach churned with a plethora of emotions. Everything all at once. 

"How'd you end up with my brother?" his cheeks flushed and not just from the cold. It took a moment till you caught on and you almost laughed.

"I'm, ugh, I'm not with Joel," you promised and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "we're just friends. Trust me, I'm not - I'm definitely not - interested in him."

"Oh," you peeked over to see the smile on his face grow, "okay, that's umm, yeah. Good. And you've, ugh, never-"

"No," a shiver ran down your spine as you cut him off. Sure, Joel was handsome but you were definitely not into him, "and no thank you."

"Cool," a silence fell over the two of you, neither awkward or completely still.

"What about you and Maria?" Yeah. You were curious too.

"We…we were together for a while," he confessed and you hated how it made your stomach twist and turn. It wasn't your place to be jealous but…you were feeling particularly green, "but it didn't work out. So we're just friends."

"Well, that's good that you're still friends," and your insides were jumping around happily.

"Mhmm," he hummed in agreement before it grew quiet again. You could practically hear Ellie screaming in your ear to make a move. Lord knows that she was absolutely wanting to see the two of you get tougher again. It would be just like a movie she'd sighed dreamily.

You shifted and angled your body so you were facing him and found that he was watching you intently. You opened and closed your mouth a few times and yet somehow he knew exactly what you were thinking. Tommy leaned in and put his hand on your cheek, hesitating for just a moment to search your eyes for permission before kissing you. 

And suddenly it felt like you'd never stopped kissing him. It all felt so familiar and so…right that you thought you'd never want to forget this again. Tommy Miller always kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he pulled away, and for all you knew he could have been kissing for seconds or hours or minutes, you made a small sound of disappointment.

"I know," there was nothing but affectionate teasing behind his voice, "but if I keep kissing you, I might sink and drown, and die. Give a man a second."

"Was it that bad?" Your eyes widened with worry but the man shook his head.

"The opposite," he grinned, "I just needed a moment so I don't get too crazy for you. It's always been hard."

"Oh," alright, that was a way better answer than you'd hoped for, "I've missed that too. Honestly, I've missed you. A lot…but I feel like that's really obvious to say."

"Not a day passed when I didn't think of you," he admitted shyly, "even if it was just  for a moment, but you were still there in my mind. Like it was yesterday."

"Well, I'm sure the reality," you pointed at yourself, "is disappointing compared to the memory."

"That's where you're wrong," he scoffed as though you must have been blind, "you're just as beautiful now as the day I met you."

"Tommy-"

"I mean it," he put his hand on top of yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I've dreamed about this day so many times. I never thought…that I would actually get the chance to see you again."

"Me neither," you really wanted to wrap yourself up in him, "I'm just afraid you're not going to like this version of me. What if I'm not like you remember?"

"None of us are the same, sweetheart," he insisted softly, "we've all been through so much shit. But deep down we're all the people we once were."

"You think so?" You could feel the tears welling up already, "I mean, I'm just assuming you'd want to even…try again. You know what, forget I said anything - you don't want-"

"I do," he quickly cut off any of your negative thoughts, "I really do. You think I'd give up this second chance with my dream girl?"

"Dream girl?" and oh. The way you were looking at him made him want to melt, "I'm your dream girl?"

"You always have been and always will be," he grew bashful as you looked at him in awe, "and I think we were given this opportunity for a reason. And I know it's scary, but if you're in, I kind of want to try again. Us."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been thinking about it since the moment I saw you," he leaned in and you were so close you could kiss him - and you definitely intended on doing that again, "so I guess it's up to you, sweetheart."

"I'm in," you promised without hesitation, "all in."

"Me too," and then he kissed you again, softly but with so much love, "all in."

[bbyg4rl]

MAKING YOU MOAN ANOTHER MAN’S NAME

cw : jj x ARTSY!READER, smut, kinda public sex, wc - 600

warnings : public sex, its lowk perverted (?), moaning another man's name, exhibitionism, getting caught.

The bell over the boutique door rings as the door clicks shut, but JJ doesn’t wait. He grabs your waist and walks you back until your hips hit the counter, kissing you like he’s been starving. Paint jars rattle behind you, one nearly tipping, but neither of you care.

“You locked the door, right?” you breathe against his lips, even as your legs hook around his waist.

“Maybe,” he smirks, breathless.

And before you know it, he's got you bent over the counter, face pressed to the side, skirt bunched up around your waist, rough hands digging into your hips as he pounds himself into you. His mouth finds the curve of your neck, right below your ear, making you gasp.

“JJ—”

And then the bell above the boutique door rings again. You freeze. So does JJ. Panic flashes across his face for a split second before he silently mouths, shit.

“Hello?” a voice calls from the front. You recognize it — a regular, the guy who always lingers too long at the candle display.

JJ doesn’t hesitate. His hands are on your waist, gently but quickly helping you off the table. He’s dragging you behind the tall shelf near the back — He pulls you into the corner, pressing you gently against the wall, his body in front of yours as he lifts you up against the wall.

“You can keep quiet, right baby?”

Your eyes widen at his proposition, but you don't get much time to react before he’s pushing into you again. Your head falls back, hitting the wall. You press your hand to your mouth, trying to muffle any noises that leave you.

But really, it was a futile attempt. The loud squelching erupting from between your legs was enough to let anyone within a mile's radius know what you and JJ were up to.

JJ squeezes your ass, pushing you up so he could fuck your sweet cunt harder, “Don't cover your mouth, sweetheart” He turns back to look at the man near the candles.

“He can hear how well this pussy's taking me anyway.” JJ grins at you, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the kind that makes you lose your mind. Your hand falls to the side as a loud whine leaves your mouth.

You're sure the man heard you when you see a candle slip from his hands. “Want me to call him over?” JJ pants, forehead pressed to yours, voice low and shaky. “Make him watch how good this pussy takes me?”

You bite your lip to keep from crying out. You didn't want to give JJ the satisfaction of knowing how much his words had an affect on you.

“You can't lie to me, mama. This pussy tells me e'rything.” He groans, rolling his hips enough to let his happy trail rub against your clit.

“What’s his name?”

You can see the gears in his head turning. Fuck, this wasn't going to end well.

“Jackson,” you whisper.

“Perfect. Moan his name when you cum.” He deadpans.

Before you can question him, his hand leaves your hips, finger quickly flicking at your clit. You were already close, the added sensations just pushed you over the edge.

And you do it. “Fuck, Jackson—” You half-moan, half-scream, throwing your head back, while your hands tighted around JJ's shoulders and your nails dug into his back.

You see the man's head shoot toward where you and JJ stood. He'd clearly heard you now. You close your eyes, tears prickling at your waterline as JJ fucked you through your orgasm.

JJ looks back at your customer, shooting him a look of warning that sent the man fearfully stumbling outside the boutique as if he was the pervert. All while JJ was fucking into you.

“You okay, Sweetcheeks?” JJ asks, slowing down enough to let you answer.

“I think I just lost a customer,” You laugh, breathless.

“You only need one Jackson anyway,” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resuming his pace.

check out my other works ! masterlist

[gakukitty]

lolol saw that you wanted to write smut so if the urge is still there could you write something about shin and nagumo (or whoever) with a reader who has baby fever because. its getting to me. 💔

‪‪❤︎‬ — baby fever w/ shin asakura & nagumo yoichi (seperate)

note

hi baby !! (haha get it) i absolutely LOVED this request <3 though , i feel like i didn’t get much baby fever in it , i’m sorry ,, it’s more liiikeee .. you’ll understand when you read it all lmaooo anyways !! i hope u enjooyyy !!

SMUT. MDNI !

shin asakura . ‪‪❤���‬

shin’s lips are so sweet against yours, his hands warm as he smooths over the fabric of your shirt. he shifts his hand, moving to grasp at your breast lightly and give the flesh a gentle squeeze. the man practically moans against your mouth, his hips subtly shifting against your own.

“are you really, really, serious?” shin mumbles, moving to press a gentle kiss to your jaw— even though he already knows the answer. but kids are a big step; but oh, man, he’s already hard at the thought of getting you pregnant. he hums against your neck as you nod, and he gives the skin a soft kiss.

“positive?” he questions— as if he can’t literally read your mind, fingers already hooking around the waistband of your pants. the man gives you a small smile once you nod again, and he’s quick to tug down your pants, tossing them aside to the floor of your bedroom; he’ll pick them up later, he figures. his lips find yours again, moans bleeding out as he lightly traces a finger over your cute, lacy panties; he likes these ones.

he sighs, almost dreamily, pulling the lace to the side to slip a finger inside of you. his thumb finds your clit, and shin practically beams at the sound that escapes you. “feels good?” he hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

you just nod, hips shifting slightly against shin’s hand; he feels so, so good. you can only let out a quiet whine as shin adds another finger, his lips warm against the skin of your neck.

soon enough, you’re cumming on his fingers, your own hands clutching at your boyfriend’s (very delicious and well built) arms. shin smiles, eyes sparkling as he gently pulls his fingers out; you huff at the contact, which elicits a small chuckle from shin. he lifts his hand, slipping the digits past your lips as his free hand moves to unbuckle his belt.

you eagerly take his fingers into your mouth, the weight nice against your tongue. you can taste yourself from the slick coating on your fingers; and to be honest, you’re not too bad. you laugh lightly around your boyfriend’s digits as he fumbles to shuffle his pants down. even now, you always find a way to be cute, shin thinks.

you let out a small sigh as the tip of his cock traces your folds, lips parting slightly around shin’s finger. he just hums, slowly pulling his fingers out to cup your cheek instead. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping past them as he thrusts inside. he swallows the moan that leaves you, moving his hand to cup your breast. he really can’t help the way he whines at the thought of how they’ll look once your pregnant; and suddenly, he’s thrusting in and out of you, dick hitting that peerrfeecttt spot as shin moans against your neck.

both hands move to clutch at your hips, knees digging into the bedsheets. he’s sure they’ll give out at some point tonight; because he is noootttt stopping anytime soon !

and our lovely shin stays true to that, because by the end of it, his cum’s leaking out, dripping down your thighs and from your chin as the man pulls out. he sighs, leaning in to kiss your lips. his hand lifts, swiping some of the liquid away before moving his thumb into your mouth. you’re barely even conscious; but definitely happy. shin smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips before his hand moves once again. his fingers shift, gathering some of the cum from your inner thighs and pushing it back inside with one thrust.

the two of you fall asleep soon after, shin’s legs intertwining with yours. he pays no mind to the way you drool against him, only tracing a finger over your stomach as he sleeps.

nagumo yoichi . ‪‪❤︎‬

nagumo was quick to guide you to your bed after the conversation about children ended; come oon, can you really blame him? the thought of you all pregnant an’ cute is just so.. adorable !

so, please don’t blame poor nagumo when he lays you down hurriedly, hands moving to tug down your pants and fidget with the pretty fabric of your panties before ripping— yes, ripping— them off and tossing them aside. he just smiles at your protests, his hand moving to unbuckle his belt and pull his own pants down.

the man wastes no time in parting your legs, grinning at the small sound you make when he teases the flushed tip of his cock against your folds. nagumo leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw as he pushes inside and—

now, he’s got you in a full-on mating press, not even bothering to hide the moans and whines that escape from his lips as he fucks into you, the soft sound of your cum mixed with his squelching with each plap, plap, plap!

he’s absolutely ruthless, breath hot against your skin and hands squeezing at the flesh of your thighs. he wants to make sure you stay in this position— you just look so cute like this, lips parted and eyes practically rolling into the back of your skull.

“like that?” he coos, gently patting your thigh. he gives you a particularly hard thrust, relishing in the wet sound your pussy emits as he drives his dick further and further into you. “ah, shit, ‘m gonna cum again.” nagumo chuckles, his pace quickening once again.

that certainly won’t be the last time he cums, either; because nagumo wants to make sure you are thoroughly fucked and filled with his cum. you said you wanted children, didn’t you?

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or use it to train ai ♡

[andy-15-07]

Hii<3 could you please write a pedro pascal x reader where he brought his gf to Japan with him for the Star Wars event and while the interview asked him about his gf she shouts from behind the scenes "te amo pedrito" and Coco is there too filming the whole thing 😂🫶🏻

“Te amo, Pedrito!”

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT:1347 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You step off the private jet into the balmy Tokyo night, heart fluttering like the neon lights all around you. Pedro stands a half-beat ahead, hand curled around yours, hair tousled perfectly,as if he’d just stepped off a set rather than a twelve-hour flight. You squeeze his fingers, the glittering cityscape reflecting in his chocolate-brown eyes.

“Welcome to Japan,” he murmurs, voice low enough only you can hear. His accent warms you like a cozy blanket as he draws you toward the waiting SUVs. “I figured we could do sushi first, then I’ll show you around Shibuya.”

You grin, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Lead the way, señor Pascal.”

The next morning dawns bright and clear, and you find yourself sipping matcha latte across from Pedro’s long-time hairstylist and friend, Coco, at a minimalist café in Roppongi. Coco’s phone is already propped up, camera rolling as she chats in Japanese and English about the best ramen spots.

“Y/N, do you like your matcha sweet?” Coco asks, eyes twinkling behind her bold frames.

“It’s perfect,” you reply, lifting the silky green foam to your lips. The café’s gentle hum wraps around you like a lullaby,far different from the roar of adoring fans gathering at the convention center across town.

“And you,” Coco pivots to Pedro, curling a strand of his hair around her finger like a benevolent sorceress, “are you excited for the Star Wars event tonight?”

Pedro laughs, his shoulders shaking in that infuriatingly adorable way. “More than a little. But honestly, I’m more excited that my fabulous girlfriend is here with me.”

Coco winks at you. “See? I told him he needed to bring you along for moral support. And for me to get new TikTok material.”

You laugh, but your cheeks warm. Pedro’s eyes flick to you, shining. “She’s right,you’re my lucky charm, y’know.”

Backstage at the Tokyo International Forum, the buzz is electric. You trail just behind Pedro, Coco following with her phone held high, capturing every behind-the-scenes moment. Actors, directors, and cosplayers weave through the corridors, and you glimpse familiar faces from the Star Wars saga,Daisy Ridley, Oscar Isaac,each greeting Pedro with enthusiasm.

“It’s like a family reunion,” you whisper to him, adjusting the hem of your sleek black jumpsuit.

Pedro grins, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “That’s exactly what it is. But it wouldn’t be complete without you here.”

Coco catches the two of you in the frame and giggles. “You two are too cute. Should I live-stream this?”

“Not everything,” you tease, nudging Pedro’s ribs.

Suddenly, a voice calls your name in clipped English: “Mr. Pascal? Are you ready for your interview?”

Pedro straightens his blazer, slipping his hand into yours one last time. “Always.” He winks at you before stepping into the bright studio lights.

The interviewer, a poised Japanese-American host named Akiko, smiles warmly. You watch from the side, arms crossed over your chest, as cameras roll. Coco crouches behind you, angling her phone to catch your reactions and the “bloopers” she’s sure will happen.

“Pedro, welcome back to Tokyo,” Akiko begins in Japanese, switching seamlessly to English. “You’ve just wrapped filming on the new Star Wars series, and tonight you’re here for the world premiere. But more importantly,” she eyes your seat at the side of the set, “you brought someone special with you.”

Pedro’s grin deepens. “I did. This is Y/N,my partner in crime, life, and now, Star Wars promotions.”

You stand, heart thundering, and wave. The cameras briefly cut to you; in that moment, your cheeks flush under the studio lights.

“Welcome, Y/N,” Akiko says, gesturing to an empty chair beside her. “How does it feel to be here in Tokyo?”

You swallow, remembering your practiced line, but the kitschy atmosphere and press of expectations dissolve the moment you speak. “It’s incredible. The city is gorgeous, the food is beyond my wildest dreams, and,” you pause to glance at Pedro, who’s leaning forward, rapt, “,having Pedro by my side makes it all the more magical.”

Pedro reaches out, covering your hand with his. His thumb strokes your knuckles and time slows. Coco’s phone light winks at you from behind the host’s desk.

Akiko smiles. “Pedro, I heard a rumor that someone,who may or may not be off camera,is a big Star Wars fan. Care to confirm?”

Pedro raises an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you mean.”

The camera widens to include the backstage area. You’re standing with Coco, who mouths “I love you” obnoxiously loud, framing you both in her shot.

Then, from just out of view, your voice rings clear as a bell: “Te amo, Pedrito!”

The soft hush of the studio is replaced by a ripple of laughter. Pedro’s jaw drops, eyes darting to you, then to the cameras.

You, equally surprised by your own boldness, flush a brilliant shade of crimson and give him an exaggerated pout. “Didn’t you want to know if your girlfriend is a Star Wars fan?”

Pedro bursts into laughter, the kind that makes his chest shake and his eyes sparkle. “I love you,” he calls back, gesturing to the host. “That’s my girlfriend,has been since 2019, by the way, on and off set, through bad lighting and good.”

Akiko’s laughter mingles with everyone else’s. “Well, that’s about the sweetest off-camera moment we’ve ever had on this show. Thank you, Y/N!”

You sink into the chair beside Akiko, cheeks still burning, as Coco quietly cheers behind the camera. Pedro leans in, low enough that only you can hear: “That was perfect.”

You grin, sliding your hand into his. “Anything for you, mi amor.”

After the interview, you and Pedro are whisked away to the red carpet. Flashbulbs pop, reporters call out questions, and fans chant his name in Japanese and English. All the while, you lean into him, his warmth a shield against the frenzied excitement.

Coco dances around you both, phone still filming, muttering in Japanese about how she’s going to have to make a two-minute highlight reel of “Y/N’s love confession,” complete with slo-mo and dramatic music.

Later, when the event winds down and you’re back in your hotel suite overlooking the city lights, Pedro pours two glasses of sake. You clink glasses, the amber liquid catching the glow of Tokyo’s skyline.

“To you,” Pedro says, voice husky. “For making my life brighter than any star in a galaxy far, far away.”

You take a sip, then set your glass down, rising onto your toes to capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “To us.”

He wraps his arms around you, backbone flexing as he pulls you flush against him. “I can’t wait for our next adventure,” he murmurs.

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “Me neither, Pedrito.”

Coco’s door-knock rings through the suite, and you both pull back just enough for Pedro to answer it. Coco stands there, phone in hand, eyes dancing.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says with mock seriousness, “but I’ve already edited that highlight reel. Shall I post?”

Pedro groans dramatically, burying his face in your hair. “Coco, you’re the devil, but I love you.”

You laugh, tugging Pedro’s hand. “Come on, devil hairstylist, let’s see it.”

Coco pushes past you, tapping play. The video starts with your shy wave on camera, cuts to Pedro’s stunned laugh, then to your shouted confession,“Te amo, Pedrito!”,in glorious slo-mo, overlaid with dreamy harp music. Comments pop up instantly: “Couple goals!” “Pedro Pascal, you’re so lucky!” “I need more Y/N content!”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, cheeks blazing again, but Pedro just scoops you into his arms and turns to Coco. “What would I do without you?”

She laughs, looping an arm around Pedro’s waist. “You’d be boring, that’s what. Now, come on,let’s party.”

And so you step into the glow of your shared spotlight, hearts in perfect sync, ready for whatever comes next,because no matter how many galaxies separate you from home, here, at Pedro’s side, you’ve already found the brightest star of all.

[sh4nksslvt]

Hi! Hope you have a nice day. If it's okay with you, may i request something for the charming firefly, ace?

Something like ace is vv oblivious to the reader's flirting, just thinking everything just a coincidence, like their seat on the dining table are next to each other, or when he's thirsty or hungry, the reader will always have a drink or snack/food ready. While actually it's happening because of the reader and their observations.

Sorry if it's too long, thanks for your time for reading this! (Completely okay if you're not ok with writing this, i just wanna say thank you)

a/n: wahh! thiss is soo cutee! hope u like thiss ><

Clueless Hearts and Full Plates

Ace doesn’t realize the reader’s affection is behind every perfect coincidence—until one finally clicks.

Ace X gn! reader

tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, ooc, ace being oblivious

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.1k

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was always a coincidence.

At least, that’s what Ace thought.

Every meal, every shared moment, every little “accident” that placed you beside him was chalked up to fate, luck, or the universe just being weirdly nice to him that day.

Like this morning.

The Moby Dick rocked gently with the waves, and the crew had begun their daily scramble to the galley. Ace, still half-asleep with bedhead and one sandal barely on, made his way to the table. As usual, the crew’s chatter filled the room with the kind of loud, familial chaos only the Whitebeard Pirates could manage.

And, also as usual, the seat beside you was the only one open.

“Hey,” Ace greeted, plopping down with a yawn and no suspicion.

“Morning,” you replied, already pushing a glass of orange juice in his direction without a second thought.

He blinked. “Whoa, you read my mind. I was just thinking I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “Coincidence, I guess.”

Ace grinned, utterly unaware of how long you’d been keeping track of the way he always reached for juice in the morning, never coffee, never water. Just juice. Always.

After a minute, he added, “Also kinda hungry… I forgot to grab a roll or somethin’.”

You wordlessly slid a small plate of warm bread and butter closer to him.

He gasped, delighted. “Seriously, you’re magic! You always have just what I need!”

You bit your lip to hide the fond curve of your smile. “Lucky timing, huh?”

Lucky timing.

That’s what he called it the other day when he tripped coming down the deck stairs and nearly face-planted—only to find your hand catching him in time. It’s what he called it when he accidentally left his hat on the upper deck and you “just so happened” to come by with it a few minutes later.

You didn’t mind. Not really.

It was kind of… endearing. In an Ace-way. He wasn't cold or careless—he just genuinely didn’t see it. The thought that you might be observing him, remembering the things he liked, and subtly trying to show him how much you cared? It never even crossed his mind.

You watched as he messily buttered a piece of bread, crumbs falling on the table. He looked content, humming a tune and swinging his feet like a child in a giant’s chair. And when he caught you watching, he gave you a bright smile—one so open and warm it made your stomach flutter.

“Y’know,” he mumbled around a bite, “you’re always around. It’s kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” you teased.

He nodded, mouth still full. “Mm-hmm. Like, comfy.”

The word hit somewhere soft in your chest. He didn’t even realize he was flirting back.

Later that day, a few of the crew were setting up for poker in the corner, but you were more interested in the commotion coming from the training area. You leaned against the railing, watching Ace spar with Marco. He was shirtless, flames licking at his fingertips as he dodged and laughed, clearly having fun.

Your gaze lingered on him. How could it not? He was strong, fast, alive with every movement.

And when he collapsed on the deck in dramatic defeat—Marco having pinned him with a blue-flamed armbar—he wheezed out, “Water… I need water…”

By the time Marco released him, you were already at his side, bottle in hand.

“Holy crap,” Ace said between breaths. “You’re, like… everywhere.”

“I told you,” you said casually, helping him sit up. “Lucky timing.”

He chuckled, leaning back on his palms and chugging half the bottle. “At this point, I’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel or something.”

You raised a brow. “You think your guardian angel would watch you get elbowed into the deck before offering water?”

Ace grinned. “Gotta build character, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest was warm with something fond and frustrating. How could he be so oblivious?

The truth was, you noticed everything about him. The way he only got grumpy when he was too hot or too tired. How he always tried to hide his hiccups when he laughed too hard. How he made sure the youngest crewmates never felt left out during meals, even if it meant giving them the last piece of meat on his plate.

You didn’t just like him. You admired him.

So yeah, maybe you rearranged your seat every meal to end up next to him. Maybe you kept his favorite snacks in your jacket pockets during long shifts. Maybe you started carrying an extra bottle of water—just in case a certain fire fist decided to exhaust himself in a sparring match.

He never asked. You just… wanted to.

And he just… didn’t notice.

It wasn’t until one particular night, under the stars, that things finally shifted.

You were both sitting on the edge of the deck, feet dangling above the sea. Most of the crew was asleep or out of sight. Ace had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and you handed him a second one without saying a word.

“Man, it’s like you read my mind,” he said for the hundredth time.

You sighed softly. “Maybe your mind is just easy to read.”

He looked at you, puzzled. “Huh?”

You gave a small, nervous smile. “I mean… I always seem to know what you need, right? I guess I just pay attention.”

There was a pause. The kind of pause where your heart beats a little faster, wondering if maybe, finally, he might catch on.

Ace blinked. “Oh. So you’ve got like, observation haki or something?”

You stared at him.

Deadpan.

“…Yeah. Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He beamed. “That’s so cool!”

You dropped your face into your hands.

But then—something changed in his tone.

“…Wait.”

You peeked up through your fingers.

Ace’s smile was still there, but it was… slower. Thoughtful. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. Every juice, every meal, every seat, every snack.

And then, like someone lit a match under his brain, realization bloomed across his face.

“…Wait.”

You watched the faintest red spread over his cheeks. He sat straighter. “Are you—? Have you been—? This whole time—?”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “You’re cute when you put the puzzle together.”

He gawked. “So it wasn’t just coincidences?!”

You snorted. “Ace, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then he laughed. It was loud, a little embarrassed, but full of warmth.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot,” you corrected, nudging his shoulder.

“…So does this mean,” he said slowly, “you like me? Like, like like?”

You raised a brow. “Only if you like me back.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours with a shy, crooked grin. “Well, now that I know… I’m definitely gonna start paying attention.”

You chuckled, nudging the bottle of water into his hand again. “Start with drinking water. Then we’ll work our way up to romance.”

Ace laughed, and this time, he didn’t call it luck.

[magicaloneandmystery]

crush

pairing: tfatws!Bucky x fem!reader

summary: Bucky was just trying to live as normally as he could given his history. he never thought a teenage-like crush would be part of that normalcy.

tags: idiots in love, sorta friends to lovers, fluff, slightly ooc Bucky? this is not proofread

masterlist

he was in deep shit, he concluded. that, or he was going insane. out of his mind. schizophrenic, even.

Bucky was on his bike, reflecting back on his evening with you. specifically, the way his heart had raced when the two of you were lounging with you just a little closer than friends were supposed to. or maybe, he was reading too much into it? had you meant to sit that close?

I mean, it wasn't even that close, actually... he thought.

that wasn't the concerning part, though. the concerning part was that he wanted you to sit closer.

in fact, much closer.

the characters in the movie they had been watching, in a particular scene one of them was sitting on the lap of the other, and he remembered thinking, "wish that was y/n on me."

he had immediately choked on air at realising the insanity of that thought.

so, Bucky's only two conclusions were:

a) he was undergoing a psychotic episode.

b) he was developing a crush on you.

option b was, frankly, just as insane as option a.

because Bucky was over a century old, for fuck's sake. how ludicrous would it be if he starts developin crushes like he was in high school?

and, lastly, he cannot ruin the friendship he has with you. nope. that was not allowed.

you were the light in his dark life, the thread that holds him to normalcy of adjusting to 21st century life, the sun to his gloomy sky-

yeah, he was in deep shit.

so, naturally, he was left with no other option than to knock on Sam"s door to ask for some advice. he wasn't about to fuck this up and he had no idea how these things worked anymore. the last time he went out with a woman was 80 years ago.

that was another horrible, horrible idea, Bucky realised, when Sam started wheezing and laughing and sputtering out his water at the words, "I think I have a crush on y/n."

"Bucky Barnes... developing a crush?" Sam had raised his eyebrows, before he descended into his laughing fit.

"are you done?" Bucky sighed after a while. "I came here for real advice, you know."

"sorry, sorry," Sam wiped some tears from his eyes. "what do you want my advice on? I think I can contact my nephew for some advice on crushes with girls..."

"if you're gonna be an ass about this I'm just gonna leave," Bucky grumbled.

"okay okay," Sam raised his hands. "I'll behave. for now."

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and looked back at Sam. "how do I... tell her? uh. should I tell her?"

"you think she might like you back?"

Bucky told him about last night, the way you curled on the couch next to him, your fingers almost touching his, both of your hands splayed between you two. he told Sam about the shy smile you held around him whenever he was flirting with you - as a friend, of course - or the way she had almost cancelled a date because Bucky said he was feeling bored and wanted to know if she was free.

"she what?" Sam asked at the last one.

"yeah, I called her up one day when I had nothing to do and thought we could hang out. she was ready to blow off this guy she was seeing to hang out with me until I told her that I would find something to do, she needs to go out." Bucky must say, the warmth in his chest felt quite pleasant when he said those words out.

"and?" Sam pressed. "is she seeing anyone, then?" presently?"

"not that I'm aware of."

"we have good intel to work on," Sam nodded. "I have a plan."

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Bucky was acting... weird.

good weird.

incredible weird.

weird in a way that made your heart flutter and the butterflies in your stomach flap around wildly.

he has been flirting a lot with you recently. small remarks about your beauty, hair, voice coupled with that charming smile? yeah, you didn't stand a chance.

you didn't understand how to interpret his behaviour. was he just opening up to you more, letting his charming side out? or was he flirting to...

you didn't let yourself complete the sentence. you couldn't let yourself hope that your feelings were reciprocated. that sort of hope could ruin your friendship with him.

all of those thoughts went out the window when Bucky put his arm on the couch behind you, his fingers almost - but not really - touching your shoulders. you could feel the heat of his body, smell his cologne even better. it was becoming hard to focus on the weekly movie you had picked out, a classic to help Bucky catch up to the world slowly.

after a while, your breathing evened out and you could move, so you opted to pretend and move just an inch closer. test out the waters, and all that.

it was a really slow night, but by the time the climax was nearing, you were pressed into his side, his hands resting on your shoulders and your thighs pressed to each other.

something shifted that night.

the two of you became bolder with your physical affection.

longer hugs, more cuddles on the couch, casual hand holding while walking through crowds or crossing streets.

that went on for about two weeks before your friends had encouraged you to do something more, take a risk. they swore they were 100% sure he liked you back. said it would be a 'calculated risk' bound to end in success. so you obliged them.

because maybe, just maybe, you believed Bucky really did like you back, too.

"would you want to go out tonight?" you asked him. "I was thinking how we've been hanging out too much at the apartment lately. let's go out! have some fun. what do you say?"

"yeah, sure. where do you want to go, doll?" Bucky leaned back, the phone pressed to his ears while he shot a confused look at Sam, who raised his eyebrows in return.

"have you been to the cafe near my place, the one with the best cheesecake ever?"

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so here you were.

on Bucky's motorcycle, your arms wrapped around his waist, while he took you to all the cafes that you swore he needed to try.

you were wearing a simple, long dress that had Bucky staring at your frame for a while longer than usual, while he was wearing a dark leather jacket and faded jeans, looking handsome as ever.

after a night of cafe hopping and good food, the two of you were returning home.

"I had a good time," you hummed when he stopped his bike in front of your apartment.

"me too," he replied, kicking out the stand and parking his bike while he walked you to your door.

"you know," you said, nerves overtaking you, your hands wringing together. "I had a much better time with you than with any of my dates in the last six months."

"yeah?" Bucky breathed out, stepping closer to you. he took a deep inhale before saying, "maybe you shouldn't go on any other dates."

your mind went in an overdrive at his words. did he just-?

"maybe we should have more of these nights," he continued, leaning his face closer to yours to catch your eye. "I know I would love that."

you stared in his eyes, their waves shining brightly in the moonlight. "I- I would love that too." you said.

"yeah?" he cupped your cheek with one hand, his other one resting on your waist. "can I kiss you, doll?"

"please."

and that's how you shared your first kiss with Bucky Barnes. your hands on his shoulders, his holding your face gently. it started out as a hesitant brush of the lips, until you pressed closer, wanting more. it was slow, a lazy tango of your lips as you two explored each other with racing hearts.

you separated for a quick breath before diving back in, another kiss that felt more passionate, holding each other closer, his hands now around your back, pulling you closer to him, yours around his neck, playing with his soft hair. that one left you breathless in a whole different way than just lack of oxygen.

after a quick and final peck, he stepped back a little. your head was swimming with thoughts of Bucky and all you could do was bring your hands back to his shoulders, keeping him close.

an awkward tension descended upon the pair, neither knowing what to say.

"so are we... dating?" you immediately panicked, wondering if this was the right question to ask right after you kissed a guy.

but it isn't any guy. it's Bucky, your heart whispered.

"I guess so," he chuckled. "would you like... that?"

"I would love that." a grin spread across the two of you.

he nodded. "I should go," he said, though he tightened his hold on you for a second. "a good night kiss?"

"yes please," you didn't wait, kissing him once more.

"have a good night, doll," he spoke afterwards, lips just inches apart.

"you too, Bucky," you said, staring at his lips then eyes.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" he asked, not knowing what dating today looked like. he'll have to ask Sam about that.

"okay," you said.

"bye," he said.

"you know you actually have to move away from me and to your bike to leave?" you teased.

"what if I don't want to leave?" he retorted with a roll of his eyes.

you laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. "go, Bucky. we'll talk tomorrow?"

"yes." he said, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheeks one last time before he walked towards his bike.

you entered your apartment, waving to him as he sat on his bike, looking at you. he waved back with a grin.

after he rode away, you closed and locked the door, leaning against it as you touched your lips and cheeks, all the places his lips had touched you. your heart was racing wildly, the butterflies in your stomach refusing to slow down, the memories of the night replaying in your head. Bucky Barnes might be the death of you, you thought.

you were in deep shit, you concluded.

this was longer than I usually write but thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3