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ceesimz · 3 hours ago

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don't smile

you just can't get over each other. (angst -> happy ending)

Seeing you in somebody else’s arms was never part of the plan Alexia set out for herself.

A drink in her hand and a stranger in yours. At an event for the club of her life that was nothing when you were in the same room as her, breathing the same air, but you had an arm around your waist that wasn’t Alexia’s.

An hour before that, when you first walked in, she could have thrown up, or fallen to her knees and wailed like a child, or thrown a tantrum like a toddler. Because you walked into her place of work with her team, your only goal in mind being to make her jealous in front of her mother and sister, her colleagues, her colleagues’ family and friends, and just about anyone else around.

Patri had invited you, apparently, which made sense. You had met through her, a fleeting moment Alexia once called fate. Now, as she watched you laugh, smile, joke, drape yourself over another woman, the captain thought of it as nothing but the beginning of the end for her. Her life hadn’t been the same since the two of you split.

Waking up in the morning hadn’t felt the same now that her bed was empty and cold without. The start of her day used to be her favourite part. Waking to a warm bed with your sleeping form beside her, goosebumps always rising on her skin when you buried her face in the crook of her neck and breathed in as the scent of vanilla from her lingering perfume and the lavender of the bed sheets invaded your senses, it was just unmatched. She couldn’t describe the motivation it gave her. Instead, the only thing that greeted her at the crack of dawn was the sole, deafening sound of her alarm. It made it inexplicably harder to want to get on with the agenda for her day.

Cooking breakfast wasn’t the same when you weren’t there to will her on with light kisses along her neckline. Doing her skincare in the bathroom wasn’t anywhere near as fun when you weren’t emphatically serenading her from the shower. Going to training didn’t feel quite so fulfilling when you weren’t waiting to welcome her with open arms once she returned home. Lining up in the tunnel of whatever stadium she was playing in that day wasn’t the same when you weren’t in the stands for her.

Yet you sauntered in as if none of that ever happened, flaunting the evidence of your success at seamlessly moving on with a grin on your face Alexia hadn’t seen before. She didn’t realise the reason for that was because it wasn’t genuine, like all the other ones you’d flashed at her in the past. That thought wasn’t even a concept in her world, the only thing she could focus on was the resentment towards you that consumed her.

Months ago, the two of you made your way to your favourite restaurant, walking along the street with your arms linked together as you exchanged soft glances and loud laughter. Only an hour later did you walk out together, stuck in a screaming contest of whose words could do the most damage, before Alexia spotted someone with their phone out and walked away. You were left there, alone, with only the vicious words from the woman you thought you’d spent the rest of your life with as the only thing that remained of her. There was radio silence after that and it had stayed that way since.

You blamed her and she blamed you, even if it was a combination of you both at fault and neither of you the root cause of it. Despite that, not a word was exchanged about the fight, the pair of you too stubborn and head-strong in the worst way to be able to look each other in the eyes again after all the insults tossed back and forth.

The thing is… Alexia had just begun to accept the fact she regretted that day at the restaurant and everything to do with it when this happened. For weeks, she’d spent her nights with only the company of the light from her phone screen, opened on your contact. Her mind cried out for her to press the call button, but her heart and its fear of getting hurt again won, and she never found it within herself to do it. Had you shown up to the Barça event on your own, the blonde would have rushed over to you the second she saw you, her tail between her legs as she begged for your forgiveness.

But then you brought a plus-one, and Alexia had never been more happy with herself over a decision than she had about not calling you.

The new girl on your arm was merely an unassuming passenger you’d brought along on this tumultuous joyride. You didn’t like her that much, she was no blonde athlete, no love of your life, and it didn’t help that you couldn’t exactly remember her name without having to take a moment 0r to think, but she knew her role and she played it well. It’d only taken three shots together at a bar the previous night to convince her. Then, all you had to do was slap a confident smile on your face and enter the room the club had hired and brush off the, at least, forty pairs of eyes on you like they were nothing.

Except your smile faltered when you stepped inside, and everybody saw it. Everyone apart from the one person that mattered. It was too late to not go with the plan, however, so you did just that. In your defence, you believed you had no choice. But of course you did. There wasn’t a gun to your head, no one knew, not even Patri, that you were bringing anyone. The downfall was all your own doing.

Every laugh, every smile, every joke, every arm wrapped around her waist and every sly whisper in your date’s ear was purposeful, planned. You didn’t even have to look to know Alexia’s eyes were on you– they never left. And your desperation for her attention never left either, though you wouldn’t call it desperation, you called it… revenge. A pathetic attempt, however. And it was rather desperate.

The whole thing bordered on toxic, it was unhealthy, yet… it could only be the behaviour of two people that loved each other too much to let go for good. Neither of you were ready to accept that fact anytime soon, however. That you were still in love, and always would be.

Alexia hadn’t brought anyone with her apart from her mother and sister because, in the time she’d had you and lost you, not once did she even glance at anyone else. What was the point? When you lose the one person you married in your dreams as you slept beside them, everything else fades out of focus so that you can concentrate on breathing and blinking each day. Just the thought of having someone take your place made her feel sick. But she didn’t care to delve into why she felt that way. She just assumed she was still achingly angry at you.

You didn’t give a second thought to the sickening pit in your stomach, assuming it was the vitriol that still coursed through your veins, and that putting on the performance you were then was simply fuelling it. It wasn’t guilt, it just couldn’t be. It wouldn’t make sense.

To Alba, it was a performance that was totally transparent, especially after she saw the glimpse of intimidation at your masterplan when you arrived. And with the way her sister was clutching her glass, if she held it any tighter, she feared it might have just smashed into pieces in her hand. The brunette had been seated front row to the sympathy party Alexia had been putting on these last months; it took a thousand times of asking for the midfielder to show any kind of emotion towards everyone left in her life. Two days before the Barça event, Alba had to lay into her, to at least try to pull her head out her ass and remember that she still had people around who actually loved her.

The blonde didn't care about a soul anymore, and that fact became obviously clear when Eli tried to pull her daughter into a conversation with someone else's mother, only to receive some kind of grunt or grumble in response. Eli rolled her eyes and politely excused herself from the conversation, grabbing Alexia's hand afterwards and scolding her quietly. Alexia hardly caught a word she said. Not when it was the exact moment you chose to shoot a sly, triumphant smirk in her direction, which elicited a disapproving, down-right angry, and bordering on possessive scowl to her brow and frown to her mouth.

That only spurred you on; then you grabbed your date’s hand and, with a look in your eye Alexia had been on the receiving end of many memorable times, you headed to the bathroom. Like you were at some club, drunk on a night-out with no inhibitions, and not at Alexia’s place of work.

A huff left her mouth and she slammed her glass down on the nearest table with the intention to follow you in and fire some colourful words your way, but Alba stopped her. The younger Putellas knew exactly what Alexia was going to do, and she’d be damned if she let her embarrass herself here of all places. She was thinking with her heart once again, not her head, and she didn’t have the best track record of doing so. The state of your relationship together was enough proof.

“Get off me, Alba. Now is not the- where are we going?!” She exclaimed in a hushed tone, trying (but failing) to not draw attention to them. Next thing she knew, she was in the smoking area outside the function room that’d been hired, her mother and sister both fixing her with warningful stares. “What is wrong with you both?”

“You need to leave her alone, Ale. Don’t cause a scene at work.” Alba said calmly, hands on her hips and hardly flinching at the outburst Alexia had afterwards.

“Me? Have you seen her?! What she is doing? She is causing a scene at my work and I am supposed to sit there and watch her?!” Her hands gestured wildly and uncontrollably, so much so that both women in front of her took a few steps backwards. She kicked at a non-existent stone under her foot on the cobbled ground and cursed under breath, mumbling a few choice words that had her mother lightly hitting her on the back of the head.

“You do not call another woman that! On my deathbed you ever say that word again, Alexia.” Eli had that same dagger glare to her eyes that worked on Alexia when she was a child. Even as a woman in her thirties, it still evoked fear in her, and her fury took a backseat after that as she apologised quietly. “What she does is not your business anymore. You need to let her go.”

“Let her go.” Alexia repeated with a pitiful laugh, slumping back against the wall and putting her hands on her knees.

She knew she had to let you go, and she was trying, why didn’t anyone see that? No matter what she did or how much time passed by, you were still the only person she thought about. You never left her mind, even if it did make her want to smash her head against the mirror she looked into every morning where she’d only see a reflection of herself when it should be you next to her.

Nobody saw it because it wasn’t the reality. She loved you as much as she did the first day she saw you. Things were just more complicated now, because suddenly your futures were at stake. One future together that was happy, or two lifetimes of chasing an ounce of the devotion you felt when you were with each other. There was a mountain to climb or there was the coward’s way out.

“I need to let her go.” She said again, this time with more determination. She stood up straight, shook off the frustration she felt, and nodded at them both. “I will.”

Then, she headed straight back inside. But Eli and Alba shared a knowing look. Alexia wore her heart on her sleeve, she always had done. The two knew Alexia better than anyone, yet even they hadn’t seen her like this before, and that only meant one thing. Eli rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh, meanwhile Alba wanted nothing more than to smash your heads together.

—

You don’t know why you did it. How you thought it could ever possibly be a good idea was a mystery to you as you sat in the back of a taxi in awkward silence with your date whose number you would delete the second she stepped out of the car.

Nevermind Alexia, you’d made a fool of yourself with such a fake, pathetic attempt at showing how seamlessly you had moved on. It was completely forced and you were almost certain that everyone in the room could see that.

The minute you walked in earlier, adrenaline and the need for revenge took over. You acted on autopilot, the devil on your shoulder decided what to do and didn’t care to run it past you before it happened. Honestly, the whole night was mostly a blur. All you could remember was the expression Alexia wore and the cocktail of emotions you could see in her eyes from across the room.

Her anger didn’t hurt, her judgement didn’t hurt, it was the disappointment so clear on her face that hurt. Like you’d stooped lower than she ever thought you would, which you knew was exactly what you’d done. But the second you saw Alexia leave, she shot one last look your way, which seemed… dejected, with a hint of longing in her eyes. So, perhaps seeing you with someone else had done exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t get the satisfaction you thought you would. No, as you drove in silence in the taxi back to your empty apartment with walls that had stories to tell of the two of you, you knew what you felt then was guilt in all its entirety. Guilt and regret.

Guilt, which you’d so vehemently denied earlier, yet were drowning in it when all was said and done. So when the tears that built in your eyes as you thanked the taxi driver and got out of the car finally fell, you didn’t wipe them away. You had no business doing that when they were the consequence of your own actions.

Crying wouldn’t rewind time so you could take back such a stupid and naive decision. Crying wouldn’t make you feel any better at the behaviour the people you valued as your own witnessed and no doubt judged you heavily for. Crying wouldn’t get Alexia back.

But you didn’t want her back, so you quickly wiped your face with the sleeve of your coat when you walked into your apartment building. Your neighbour from a few doors down was there, waiting for the elevator, and the look of pity he gave at the sight of you was enough to have you turning on the spot and walking right out again.

It contradicted your last thought entirely, about not wanting her back. But you didn’t care, because you could not stand the idea of going home to an all too quiet and empty apartment. That didn’t mean you wanted her back though. She’d said some borderlin- she’d said some really unforgivable stuff in the restaurant. Even if you had kind of forgotten some of the things she spat at you, you knew she had and she’d meant it.

You wanted a drink. Needed one, actually. So your destination choice was the local supermarket, which was a couple minutes away. As you headed towards it, the cool air of the evening dried your tears, leaving tracks that still glimmered under the streetlights, the warm white reflecting the shame that burned inside you for everyone that passed by to see. It was a vulnerable moment, but you did it to yourself, so it didn’t matter. You wandered the streets in the dark, alone, just like you did after that time at the restaurant.

God, you would have done anything to know what Alexia was thinking earlier. You knew she was angry, that could have been clear even to Stevie Wonder, but there was something different, deeper, under the surface that you caught a glimpse of and it lingered in your mind. You had to stop thinking about her.

That was an impossible task when she was in everything you saw. The alleyways you snuck off into on date nights, the cafes you ate breakfast in the mornings after whilst sat across the table from each other with bashful smiles and flushed cheeks, benches you would sit on together as you watched the world go by in front of you. All these sentimental places you walked by, where nothing had changed for them, meanwhile everything had changed for you.

Things had changed between you both since, yet at the same time, nothing had changed at all.

The supermarket you went to, it was the same one the two of you would walk around together, picking and choosing what ingredients you would use for the next dish you cooked. You should have realised what shop you were going to end up at, but clearly critical thinking wasn’t your best skill at that time.

You roamed the aisles, a basket on your arm, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart that was in tune with the continuous cycle of your mind. It told the same story you had shunned for some time, you were determined not to let it get to you that night. But just like your walk here, the shop showed no sign of anything that had ended, and it gave no instruction on how to forget that it had.

You picked your poison and put it in the basket. Then you got another bottle of the same drink, so there was one to have on the way home and one to keep you company on the sofa.

All was going well until you began to make your way to the exit. The aisle you chose to walk down to get to the tills was probably the worst one you could. The most unsuspecting, but undeniably the worst. Just as your mind finally let you think about something else, you spotted something on the bottom shelf that shattered the facade you had worked so hard to build.

Lavender laundry detergent. Unassuming? Yes. But in no time at all, it no longer was just a bottle of detergent. And it was fucking stupid.

Suddenly, it was late Sunday evenings when Alexia would force you out of bed so that she could put on fresh sheets, adamant it was the perfect reset for a new week. Suddenly, it was the way she would pick you up and lay you down on the bed afterwards, giving an apology in the form of soft, gentle, slow, unrushed kisses because nights together felt timeless. Suddenly it was the feeling of her clothes against your skin, of tangled limbs in the early hours of the morning, of home.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was.

The breakup, the ambush at the club’s gathering, the weeks without each other, the tears that fell again.

Your stomach twisted at the thought that hit you soon after. It should have been obvious, long ago. But so much time had passed, so much animosity, it initially seemed irreparable. How could she forgive you? And when had you forgiven her?

“Disculpe? Está bien?”

No, you weren’t. Coming face to face with a decision you had detested for months wasn’t something you could just sit back and watch.

It was a decision you had to actively take.

—

“Alexia?”

She put her foot through the ball just as you spoke, sending it flying over the crossbar.

“Alba told me you would be here.”

Alba?

Ignoring you, she collected another ball and meticulously set it up outside of the box.

“Please.”

She geared up to take the free-kick, and this time, the net rippled and the sound echoed off of the houses around as it nestled in the top corner. The football pitch near her childhood home was often a place she went to when she needed time on her own. And God did she have a lot of it lately.

Alexia gave as much as she was willing to; she turned her body to face you, hands on her hips, though she kept her eyes averted. It was an offer, not an invite.

“I… I came here with so much to say but now I don’t know where to start.”

The captain had mastered the act of coming across as stoic and unbothered. There, in front of you, she seemed emotionless and totally unbothered by your sudden appearance. The sharp sting of a lump in her throat told a different story.

She had spent so long convincing herself this moment would never come, that you had given up on the idea entirely, which she knew was selfish to put this whole thing on your shoulders, but still. Then there you were, in front of her, looking at her like she was still something that mattered.

Her shoulders tried to slump but she stood up straighter, her expression and her body language steady and unwavering in its coldness. Her jaw was tensed, her fingers curled into fists, eyes unblinking, almost like she was trying to bring on the anger she was supposed to feel. But the tears welled anyway, traitorously burning behind her eyes, and she had to blink them back before they betrayed her.

“I need you, Alexia. And I don’t know why I’ve spent the past months telling myself I don’t.”

You bared your soul in the hopes she did the same thing in return.

In the last few weeks that led to this moment, Alexia thought the nights she spent wishing for this very scene to play out would have prepared her for hearing those words. It hadn’t worked, and the love she felt for you came rushing back, weaving in between the cracks she’d tried so hard to seal. It was a miracle she didn’t fall to your feet there and then.

A part of her wanted to scoff and tell you it was too late. Those weren’t her true feelings. The way her nails dug into the palms of her hands and how the half of her heart she had left battered against her chest as it tried to escape, tried to make its way to you again, they shone a light on the truth that had long taken hold of her. She hated how easily she folded at the sound of your voice and the honesty within it, but you can’t hate who you don’t love.

Regardless, she swallowed hard, the lump not budging an inch, and she forced her face to stay blank as she replied.

“You don’t get to say that.”

Her voice was steadier than she felt, but even as the words left her tongue, her resolve wavered slightly.

“I know, but I am saying it.” You took a step closer. On that occasion, she met your gaze. “I’ve been a horrible person, and what I did yesterday, it… I don’t know why I did it. I don’t have any excuses or reasons why. I’m just sorry. I’m so… so sorry.”

Still, she didn’t say a word. You didn’t blame her. Begging for her forgiveness with your tail between your legs wasn’t a pretty sight.

“I forgive you for what happened at the restaurant and I did a long time ago. I can’t do this life thing without you, I don’t know how I did it before you but I definitely can’t do it after without you. I love you. It’s only you.”

Words spilled out of you in a frantic manner as you filled the silence she left. Alexia stood rooted to the spot, absorbing every single syllable that you uttered. She saw the way your hands fidgeted and how you’d look her in the eye before glancing away, intimidated by her lack of reaction. It was like you were searching both her and the environment around for anything to tell you where you stood with her. Truthfully, the midfielder wasn’t sure.

Relief swarmed her chest so wholly it almost hurt, though her mind was still catching up. She wanted to tell you she heard you, that she forgave you, that she loved you, but… she couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. So she let you stumble through apologises and half-finished confessions whilst she tried to remember how to breathe again.

“Please. I n-need you. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything. I… I don’t know what else to say.”

When so much time passed between you showing up and her giving away not a hint at how she felt, you began to feel embarrassed. Humiliated. Ashamed that you could drive away the one person you believed genuinely loved you.

You didn’t know what else to say, but you weren’t about to see her walk away from you again like last time. It hurt too much. If she didn’t want you in her life, then you would make the decision for her. You did have some common decency.

It’s just, when you turned and took your first step away from her, you couldn’t exactly take your second when a familiar hand grabbed your wrist and spun you back around. Though, she hesitated in her next plan of action, and it gave you a chance to see the stream coming from her eyes. Before you got the chance to apologise or run away or cry tears of your own, you were engulfed in an embrace. An embrace that was steady, strong, secure, like the ones you had gotten used to before everything went wrong.

“I’m still mad at you for what you did.”

She sobbed into your neck as she spoke, her shoulders shaking with her cries, and somehow it was the most cathartic moment of your life.

“I know.”

—

happy ending... question mark? 😇 reverie national team fic is actively being worked on! this is just something i got the idea for the other day and it stuck in my mind since, though it looks nothing like i thought it would (i hate it sm) best believe im putting alllll my time and love and care and effort into the reverie nt fic!

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso community #woso fic #woso one shot

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andromedasummer · 1 year ago

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i should be given a humanitarian award for my services towards decreasing the number of red bull fans through speaking a few sentences

#''oh you like f1? me too. i like red bull'' ''oh yeah ive not been so happy with them. the team boss punching driver thing #and that one hospitalization over driver weight loss makes it really hard for me to see them in a positive light. and thats without even #touching on all controversies surrounding their current drivers.''#fun fact people ive learned is a lot of people #dont like supporting a team whose driver says slurs so bad #the affected populations un representative called for wholesale condemnation of the team and an apology #which the team made jokes about and then never gave #anti rbr #anti red bull racing

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mssorceressupreme · 1 month ago

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Let Me Help | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: After losing a quidditch match, Fred is frustrated and you help him by giving him a post-match massage, which leads into something more, or well something sweet.

Warnings: massaging, making out, hickeys, moaning ig, praising (ish), slightly steamy but mostly fluffy, fluffy!fred, nap-time together, cuddling, littlespoon!reader, bigspoon!fred, pls i want to have nap-time in fred's arms

———

The roar of the crowd had dwindled into murmurs as you, Hermione, and Luna sat on the bleachers, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team gather on the pitch below. The match against Hufflepuff had ended moments ago, and to everyone’s surprise, Gryffindor had lost after a season of winning.

It wasn’t just a loss—it was a hard-fought game, filled with moments of near victory that had slipped through their fingers.

Fred and George, always the heart of the team, looked particularly worn down. Fred’s usual buoyant demeanour was dimmed, his lips were pressed in a firm line, nodding as Oliver clearly scolded him about something. He wasn’t one to take criticism lightly, especially not when he was already down.

“I think Wood's giving Fred a hard time,” Hermione murmured, squinting at the scene below.

“Fred looks sad,” Luna observed, tilting her head dreamily. “Maybe he’s just feeling the weight of the nargles today.”

You tried waving to Fred, catching his eye. "It's okay Freddie..." you mouthed, attempting to comfort him slightly from the bleachers.

He looked up and, instead of the cheeky grin and exaggerated gestures you were used to, he blew you a small, almost apologetic kiss.

It wasn’t the playful, confident one that usually made you laugh; it was soft, almost sad, and it made your heart ache.

“He’ll be okay,” Hermione reassured you as you all made your way down from the stands.

The walk back to Hogwarts was subdued. The team split off to the showers while you, Hermione, and Luna headed toward the common room. Your mind was on Fred the whole time, wondering how you could cheer him up.

When the players eventually returned, freshly showered but still visibly tired, you led the cheers in the common room to boost their spirits. George gave a half-hearted grin, Angelina and Katie exchanged appreciative smiles, but Fred hung back, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.

Determined to help him, you waited for the crowd to thin out before slipping away and making your way to the boys’ dormitory. Knocking softly, you peeked inside. Fred was sitting on his bed, his head resting in his hands, and the sight made your chest ache.

There was no sight of his dorm mates, they were likely out and about, lurking around campus somewhere.

He looked up when you entered, and his face softened immediately, though the exhaustion in his eyes noticeable.

“Hey,” you said gently, closing the door behind you.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice low. He patted the spot next to him, and you sat down, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, though you already had a good idea.

Fred sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Oliver. He’s... he’s been on my case. Said I was distracted during the match, that I wasn’t focused enough. Maybe he’s right.”

You frowned. “That’s not fair. I watched the whole match, Fred. You were brilliant out there.”

He shook his head, a humourless laugh escaping him. “Doesn’t feel like it. We lost. And Oliver... he’s just so stressed about this season. Guess I was an easy target today.”

Reaching out, you placed a hand on his arm, stroking gently. “Ignore him. He’s just upset because he cares too much about the team. But that doesn’t mean he’s right about you. You gave it your all, Fred. I could see it. And I’m so proud of you.”

You hated seeing him like this, your Fred, who always had a joke or a cheeky grin, now looking so defeated.

Fred gave you a small, grateful smile, his gaze softening further, though the weight of the day still lingered in his expression. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Someone has to be,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “You’re not half as annoying as you pretend to be Weasley.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, and you decided you’d do anything to make it stick. An idea popped into your head, and you straightened up.

“Sit on the floor,” you said suddenly.

Fred blinked at you, confused. “What? Why? You’re not planning to hex me, are you?”

“No hexes,” you promised, laughing. “Just trust me.”

Still skeptical, Fred slid off the bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. “This better be good,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

You knelt behind him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. The moment you started massaging him, he tensed, clearly surprised.

“What are you—”

“Shh,” you interrupted, grinning. “Just relax.”

It didn’t take long for him to give in. A low groan escaped his lips as your fingers worked over the knots in his shoulders. “Merlin Y/N, that’s... bloody amazing,” he muttered, his head dipping forward.

“You’re all tense,” you said softly, your fingers kneading the muscles in his neck. “You’ve been carrying too much stress.”

Fred let out a deep sigh, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. “You’re going to put Madam Pomfrey out of a job,” he joked, his voice muffled. “This is—blimey—I could get used to this.”

You smiled, continuing to work your fingers along his shoulders and down his back. The earlier frustration and tension seemed to melt away, his breathing slowing as he leaned into your touch.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice lighter now, “if you ever decide to quit school, you’ve got a future in saving stressed Quidditch players.”

You laughed, continuing to massage him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you leaned closer, you couldn’t resist planting a soft, lingering kiss on the side of his neck. Fred’s breath hitched slightly at the unexpected gesture. Smiling against his skin, you pressed another kiss just below his ear, then one more at the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“Wha—” Fred started, his voice thick with surprise and something softer, “what are you doing?”

“Cheering you up,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke.

He let out a low, content hum, tilting his head slightly to give you more access. “Well, I’d say it’s working,” he moaned softly, his grin evident even though you couldn’t see it. “Bloody hell, you’re good at this.”

You giggled, continuing to pepper his neck with light, affectionate kisses. “Good. You deserve a little TLC after today.”

Fred turned his head slightly, his voice a little breathless now. “A little? I deserve this every day.”

“You’d get spoiled,” you teased, kissing just below his jawline.

“Already am,” he admitted with a happy sigh. “And if you don't stop I might just take you here and now." He moaned again, as you left him a hickey, sucking sweetly on the side of his neck.

"You like that Weasley?..." You cooed, continued planting sweet kisses around his neck and he threw his head back, groaning softly.

"Mhm, feels so good love..." He hummed, eyes shut as his breathing grew heavier.

You chuckled, pulling back slightly to look at him. His eyes were closed, his lips curved in the most serene smile you’d seen all day. His usual cheeky confidence was still there, but it was softer now, tempered with gratitude and affection.

When you finally stopped, Fred turned around to face you, his brown eyes warm and filled with gratitude and adoration. “My girlfriend's incredible,” he said softly, reaching for your hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, smiling.

He got up and made his way onto the bed, hovering over you as he pushed you down gently, making you lie down with his hands beside your head, trapping you beneath him essentially.

He then bent down into a kiss, sweet and unhurried, his lips warm against yours. You giggled, as he continued, parting your mouth slightly as his tongue slipped inside.

His lips were soft, pillowy against your own. "Fred..." you moaned into his kiss softly as he sucked on your tongue. You could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, your fingers running through his hair as you breathed each other in.

He too, had always managed to make you melt at his touch, to feel good, to feel loved, you were weak beneath him.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a content sigh.

“You really know how to cheer a bloke up, don’t you?” he teased, his grin finally back.

“Someone’s got to keep you from sulking,” you quipped, poking his chest playfully.

Fred chuckled, moving to lay beside you on his bed. You curled up against his side, his arm wrapped securely around you.

For the first time that day, he looked completely at ease, the weight of the match’s loss forgotten.

As you lay there together, his fingers idly traced patterns on your arm. “You know,” he said after a while, his voice soft, “I don’t deserve you.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, frowning. “Don’t say that Freddie, you're amazing. You know, despite how much of a git you can be sometimes, you deserve all the happiness in the world.” You turn to face him, brushing some messy strands away from his face to see him, your Fred.

His grin returned, this time with a mischievous glint. “Well, if you insist... I suppose I’ll let you keep spoiling me.”

You laughed, swatting his arm lightly. “Don’t push it, Weasley.”

He laughed too, pulling you closer. “Too late.”

Fred pulled you into his arms, your bodies pressed against each other, your head rested below his, melting into his chest, one of the many perks being the little spoon.

The two of you laid there, tangled together, the world outside fading into nothing. His steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful nap.

When George returned later, he peeked in, grinning at the sight of you both asleep, Fred’s arms securely around you. He quietly closed the door, leaving you both to your well-deserved rest.

#fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred #george weasley x reader #oliver wood #hermione granger #harry potter #hogwarts fanfiction #x reader #fluff #weasley twins #luna lovegood #harry potter headcanon

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sgt-tombstone · 5 months ago

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Call signs weren’t supposed to be flattering. More often than not, they were the direct result of some embarrassing fuck-up that trailed a soldier for the rest of their life. They were voted on by the first platoon that a soldier joined, usually within the first few months, and they then spent the next few months cringing every time they heard it. Simon’s first platoon had seen a recruit land the call sign “Seagull” after a drunken dare to nick a fry from their captain’s tray in the mess hall, and he had personally bestowed the call sign “Dash” upon a soldier who had somehow managed to clip himself in the leg with his own bullet. Dumb Ass Shot Himself…

The embarrassment wore off, though. When one was stuck with a name for the rest of their lives, they learned to live with it sooner rather than later. The associated stories either got buried deep or drunkenly flaunted; the stupider the better. The funny ones became a point of pride and the truly humiliating ones eventually settled into something sort of like mundanity. Amusing tales became nothing more than yet another name, a stitched moniker, an email signature. The point was: by the time they made it to the special forces, and especially once they were assigned to a task force, no one gave a shit about their call signs anymore.

Whenever Soap heard his call sign, whenever anyone asked after its origins, he laughed it off, citing his ability to clean house or, more flirtatiously, his ability to clean up after himself, but he always internally cringed.

No one ever noticed. No one except for Ghost.

He never said anything, never asked about it, which Johnny was thankful for, but he was infinitely more thankful that Ghost took every opportunity to call him literally anything else. Sergeant, at first, then Johnny. MacTavish, if he was mad; any other combination of insults if he wasn't, because they both knew he never really meant them. Sunshine, sometimes, in the mornings when Soap stumbled out of bed in whatever safe house they were staying in, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Scottish Bastard, or Our Johnny, or Pyromaniac, or Lad. Rarely Soap.

It was in his file, Johnny knew, the file that Ghost had read cover to cover, too paranoid to blindly trust Price's judgment with a new team member. Evidently, he hadn't made the connection between the incident report nestled in the sheaves of paper and Johnny's embarrassment. More likely, he just didn't care. Johnny wasn't sure which option he preferred.

Johnny had always had an issue with authority, and joining the military had done nothing to quell his rebellious streak; he was still a teenager, fresh out of basic, barely legal, the first time it happened. His sergeant had been giving him eyes for the entire two months since he'd joined, and Johnny'd be lying if he said he hadn't pushed himself just a little harder in response to the attention. The night of graduation found Johnny in the sergeant's bed, taking everything he was given and begging for more.

He hadn't seen that sergeant again after that, but it had more to do with Johnny's SAS training than anything else, and it started a bad habit. Nearly every unit he joined, he eventually ended up in his superior's bed. It was all consensual, and Johnny would be willing to attest to it if need be, but he never got caught, and he moved from unit to unit so often that it never really mattered.

Until it did.

Two years out of basic, about halfway through his SAS training, he got caught. Rather, they got caught. They were in the showers, his lieutenant pressing him against the tile wall, when their captain had walked in. The implications were clear, especially with Johnny on the receiving end, and the lieutenant had gotten discharged, despite Johnny's protestations. It had been his idea, but it still looked like an abuse of power. Word had flown around the base, and Johnny had gotten stuck with the call sign Soap as a terrible joke; "don't drop the soap" was uttered nearly every time he entered a room, and he ended up being the youngest to pass selection largely to get away from the teasing.

Once he joined the SAS, he never saw anyone involved in the incident ever again. The incident report went in his file, but it got buried among the accolades, the outstanding test results, the exceptional service record. No one except his superior officers had the clearance to read his file, which was for the best; their knowledge of his bad habit kept him from indulging, and he hadn't looked at another superior officer the same way since.

Until Ghost. Who called him Johnny, not Soap. Who tolerated and even encouraged his flirting. Who knew every detail of his file but never pushed for more.

Whenever Johnny got too close to a line, Ghost would switch back to Soap, just once, just enough to nudge him back a step, but he was never cruel. It was a slap on the wrist, not a sharp reprimand, and Johnny had learned enough about Ghost's tone and eyes to see the switch for what it was: a gentle warning, a clearly expressed boundary.

And then one of their missions went to shit, and Johnny ended up in the hospital for months, and Ghost stopped calling him Soap altogether. In the aftermath, Johnny danced closer and closer, always expecting his cautionary call sign to fall from Ghost's lips, but it never did. On and off the field, Ghost simply watched Johnny get closer, stopped holding him at arm's length. He started welcoming his flirting, started actively encouraging him, started reciprocating.

The first time they fell into bed together, something panicked fluttered in Johnny's chest. He'd been here before; he'd gotten a lieutenant wrongfully dishonorably discharged before, for nothing more than the very act that he and Ghost had been dancing around for years. The moment before their lips met, he backpedaled sharply, only to be caught by the rigid warmth of Ghost's arms.

Ghost knew. Ghost knew his past, knew his record, knew what he'd been walking into. Ghost didn't care.

Price knew. Price knew his past, knew his penchant for gravitating towards authority, and still had placed him within Ghost's grasp time and time again. Price didn't care.

And Gaz... well, Gaz was Johnny's biggest enabler. Gaz didn't care.

So he let himself take the final step, the leap of faith, and landed safely in Ghost's hold, in Ghost's bed, and in Ghost's life. Loved, satisfied, and most importantly, protected. Safe.

And if he started wearing his call sign like a badge of honor for the first time in his life... well, he was sleeping with a superior officer, and he wasn't ashamed of it anymore. Whenever Ghost looked at him, reverent, bordering on worshipful, Soap couldn't find it within himself to feel a single ounce of embarrassment over his name.

#something something soap being used as a way to keep distance between johnny and his superiors #anyway since no one knows where soap got his call sign this is my take on it #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #john price #kyle gaz garrick #tombstone's epitaphs #tombstone's ficlets

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micer2012 · 1 year ago

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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

#exiavojtmmc #hermitcraft #matpat #gt #game theory #hc #mcyt #evil xisuma #hbomberguy #plagiarism #james somerton #jeff the minion #mine #micer2012 #hcs9

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jinxs-gf · 6 months ago

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Black Cat!Reader x The Team Headcanons

Black Cat!Reader x The Team

note: just because you’re in place of Black Cat doesn’t mean this is fem!reader! this is very gender neutral besides the mention of lipstick briefly…even then that’s not lady exclusive :)

content/warnings: this is seemingly set during s1 like my other yj fics but I imagine everyone being way older 😔🙏🏽 it’s weird but just roll with it pretty please. also…a bit suggestive??

word count: 3.6k

a/n: I wouldn’t have done this but this anon gave me the idea and I HAD to expand on it unfortunately

THE TEAM (platonic)

Lots and lots of flirting from reader, OBVIOUSLY. do y’all even KNOW Black Cat????? it would be relentless. and no matter how annoying and probably overwhelming it got, you wouldn’t back down

with even the toughest/hardest to crack team members

it’s not even like you’re attempting to lure them in…or get romantically involved (unless…), it’s just how you are. who can blame you! flirting is fun

you started off as just another “villain of the day.” Someone they could take on easily. They thought of you as a pity mission. An bad guy as small as a simple thief? What fun was that?! They’ve taken down Gods, magicians, robots…and Red Tornado assigned them a thief??? It was a joke.

until it wasn’t. until Batman saw potential in you (because of course he did. Robin was not happy about this.)

You earned the nickname Cat, which was a nickname in itself for Kitty Cat (Wally's idea, not yours, you gave him hell for it)

your first mission with them was definitely something. messy, to say the least

it was weird, the whole mind link thing. you made jokez and flirted through the link as a way of coping because…well you felt out of place

everyone was so close with each other, not to mention they didn’t come from a background of “bad guy shenanigans”

you felt like an outcast for the longest time, until everyone was revealing vulnerable secrets with each other before a mission. you finally spoke your insecurities with your place on the team

you and Artemis had the same worries (more or less) and bonded over that

you finally were able to let loose and just…be yourself around them

you became soft

the flirting and teasing was still there, however it was saved for missions

you preferred to keep Black Cat’s reputation

individual relationships

ROBIN (romantic)

He was very much against the idea of you being on the team. Sure you weren’t a crazy villain that hurt people (maybe not physically…but you were definitely a heartbreaker, Robin concludes)

You were still a thief at the end of the day. A bad person. And he didn’t like that.

It was Batman’s idea—and usually Batman had great ideas. This was a very bad one. He hated every bit of it.

…until he got to know you better

Taking you down was easy. “Easiest job I’ve ever had,” Robin boasts.

You pout, “that’s not very nice.”

Ha. He knocked you down a peg. Good. You needed a little humbling-

“-How come you’re lying to me, Robin? I thought we had something.”

Uh oh. He absolutely hated when you used that sickeningly sweet voice on him.

Of course you didn’t believe his lie. Of course you could tell how difficult that mission really was.

It’s not apart of his proudest moments. He hesitated to stop you on the mission, completely caught off guard by your flirtatious behavior. I mean, who wouldn’t be?!

In a moment of weakness, he let you go. Awestruck by the kiss you left imprinted on his cheek. Something he got teased relentlessly for.

The rest of the team finished the job for him after that.

In the back of his mind he knows the only reason he didn’t like the idea of you being on the team was because he…knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He was sure to be on your long list of broken hearts (a list that was never confirmed to even exist)

It made sense in his mind…he was Robin. A bird. And you were a cat. A right recipe for disaster. You’d trap him in your greedy little claws and eat him alive.

Over time that perspective changed.

Robin hates to admit it, but he’s softer now. Softer around you. For you.

“I know who you are,” he says with that arrogant smirk.

“So why can’t I know who you are?”

“Only…really important and trustworthy people know. The only person who knows besides Batman is Wally. He’s my best friend.”

“Why doesn’t that include me?” you’re practically purring, rubbing a finger down his face, “am I not important enough to you?” You pout for show

He looks dejected, like he was having an internal battle with himself. And you could tell which part of him was losing.

Your fingers inch slowly towards his mask, ready to lift-

“Robin.” And the stupid, stupid monotone voice that belonged to Batman interrupted you.

You’ll get him back for that.

Robin was now being scolded, but he was having none of it.

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“It will not happen again. No more moments of weakness. You’re growing, your body is going through a lot of different things. Keep it in your pants-”

“Whoa old man! Whoa! That’s going too far. And what about Selina?! You’ve had many moments of weakness because of her. You can’t scold me for this one time.”

“It’s because of my experience with Catwoman that I know better. I’m trying to stop you from…getting hurt.”

Robin calls bullshit on that. What could you possibly do to hurt him? (Thoughts that completely contradict his first impressions of you)

The next time he sees you he’ll spill everything. He’ll let you know that he does trust you and that you do matter. That you’re important to him.

Just to spite Bruce. And maybe because he really likes you and wants you to know it.

It was his idea to bring you onto the team anyways…he’s just giving Bruce exactly what he wanted. A warm welcome to a new teammate.

WALLY (romantic)

Wally was so happy someone FINALLY reciprocated his advances. And especially with a catch like you? Black Cat?! He was over the moon.

At first.

It quickly came to be too much. He's been waiting, praying for someone to match his energy, but now that he's got it? He's not exactly sure how to handle it. He's gotten so used to being blown off, teased, and scolded for his flirting that it was weird when you flirted back.

He was of course the first to tease you when you officially joined the team. He gave your your nickname, Kitty Cat. You despised the name and him for the longest time.

Wally was annoying. Taunting you at all times. Calling to you as if you were an actual cat.

He'd click his tongue, "here kitty kitty."

And for that, your flirting was meaner towards him (compared to how you treated everyone else). Which is the exact reason why he couldn't handle the teasing from you. It wasn't the normal way Robin would, "oh yeah, Wally can't phase the way Flash does. Otherwise he gets a nosebleed. Right, loser?" Or the way Artemis would, "ugh, you flirt like a divorced 40 year old who's desperate for a rebound. Loser."

No, your teasing was quite different. You laughed cruelly, throwing your head back for show, "Come get it before it's gone, loser."

So. He was still a loser to you, but it seemed you actually liked that about him. Maybe.

Wally didn't like it as much as he thought he would. It ruined his cool guy facade (one that didn't exist, Robin would say). It was humbling, the way he suddenly tumbled over his words, face flushed red and all.

More than humbling. It was embarrassing.

You bring him down to the mat with a loud THUD. Much like the time Black Canary beat him during their first time training. Except you used your weight, tumbling on him (and straddling him in the process. Great).

Embarrassing embarrassing embarrassing.

The only person that was able to truly catch him was his best friend, Robin. And that's with years of experience with the speedster. You'd know him all of a few months and you're able to do it?!

"It won't happen again,” referring to his teasing of your name, naming you Kitty Cat and clicking his tongue at you.

“Or I’ll have to teach you a lesson. Much different from this one.” And you casually walk away.

Wally desperately wanted to get up, to humble you back. But he couldn't. He felt physically incapable of doing so.

You had really done it. You slowed down the (second) fastest man alive.

Wow.

"Wow. That was extremely painful to watch," of course Robin had something to say about it.

"Shut up man."

KALDUR (romantic)

It was "unprofessional," he said.

Unprofessional your ass. It was perfectly professional. A lot of people on the teams had partners within those same teams. Black Canary and Green Arrow, Superman and Wonder Woman (exes—but that still counts for something), Conner and M’gann acted like a couple and no one said anything! So what was the problem?

Well apparently there wasn’t a problem…seeing as this “relationship” was more welcomed—as in, Kaldur didn’t tell the Black Cat off when they made advances towards him. Besides when he called their behavior “unprofessional.” That was once. He didn’t say a word of it after that.

In fact, he allowed—dare anyone say encouraged it.

On missions you were attached to his hip. Even if he assigned you to be by Artemis’ side or assist Robin, you wouldn’t listen. And he didn’t say anything about it, instead informing the team to continue on with the plan.

His professional act as the team leader never faltered, not even you could break it down. He merely tolerated your flirting (his words, though you knew better. He loved it).

The team was each in their individual positions scoping out the area, ready to attack at a moments notice. Kaldur was squatted down and you decided it was the perfect opportunity to pounce on him (as you usually did). You wrapped your arms around his neck, now on his back.

“Does the team leader have time for some sweet talk?”

��I, we have a job to do, Cat. Focus.”

You hum, “What are we doing here again?”

He starts relaying the plan to you, you taking note of the way he doesn’t scold you (he repeated the plan to the team multiple times on the way over, he surely would’ve berated one of the other guys for not listening). You never had any intentions of listening, only wanting a chance to annoy him.

“Blah blah blah, is this your version of sweet talk?” You squish his face between your fingers and plant a kiss on his cheek.

He only sighs, “Later. After the mission is complete.”

For once, your find yourself surprised. He’s promising to reciprocate your advances?

This should be fun.

CONNER (romantic)

M'gann was more subtle with her flirting (not really, especially with the way she blushes), more timid and on the nose about her feelings. You? You got straight to the point. Kind of like how open Artemis was when she first joined the team. She had no shame letting the team know telepathically how attractive she thought Superboy was. Seriously, what was it with new recruits and taking an immediate liking to Conner? Why not the other three boys? What did he have that they didn't!

Although Artemis gave up on that crush at first sight almost immediately

You? Not so much. it was very noticeable that the Black Cat was adamant on cracking the boy of steel. it seemed like an impossible mission, but with a little determination and a couple sultry words? it was pretty damn easy

This is very much an enemies to lovers type relationship (kinda):

At the beginning, when you first met, he was open to new relationships. Getting to know people he could count on within the team, though that openness completely died down. Your flirting was nonstop. Even on missions! How was he supposed to concentrate on the task at hand when you found time to graze his arm or speak soft words to him?

You annoyed him, sosososo much it wasn't even funny. Even more than M'gann did. Both of you were insistent, that's for sure. But one was more bold than the other. He tried telling himself it was because he didn't like you: at least with M'gann he wanted a relationship to come from it (not necessarily romantic)

But with you...he hated you. No. He hated the way he reacted to your advances...he hated admitting to himself that your words affected him. That he felt something not so platonic for you. Damn you and your stupid flirting. It was surely going to be the death of him. And that's saying something: the clone of the man of steel actually breaking down? unheard of.

But you managed to do it. Unfortunately.

Conner finds himself thinking about you, more than he'd like. Another reason to dislike you. You take up his mind. Every waking moment and every dream. It's infuriating.

And now he was starting to worry about you during missions. He saw you get knocked down, away from the rest of the team. The fall looked nasty, and with the way you seem to lie there with no intention of getting back up, he's sure you've been knocked out

Conner tries to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight, kind of like the way it does when concerning you in different context

It gives him the courage to voice his worries, he calls out to you, and as expected: he gets no response

The enemy leans down to your level, ready to do more damage. Conner is quickly snapped out of his daze and starts running over to you

Until he abruptly stops. Because you open your eyes to wink at him, jump up, and take the enemy down with ease.

It's right then that he takes back every thought of admitting he doesn't hate you. Because the stupid smirk you're sending his way reminds him of every reason why he dislikes you.

Everyone is home or in their respective rooms already, leaving you and him. You're behind him, massaging his shoulders gently (your touch wouldn't have persisted if he showed any signs of discomfort, he leaned into it in fact, allowing you to continue)

You bring your head down, cheek to his,

"Oh come on. You can lie to everyone and yourself. But you can't lie to me. I know you were worried back there. Just admit it, Loverboy."

He can only roll his eyes. And blushed. You were never going to live this down.

"I wasn't. Now leave me alone." If only his actions were as convincing as his stern words. Words that would've scared off the likes of M'gann had she been in your position. But you knew better, knew that his shaking hands and quickly warming face meant that his words had no meaning.

Your hand dragged from his shoulder to his chest, right over his heart. Yeah, his words were meaningless with the way his heart was beating for you.

Conner was finally warming up to you and you had him right where you wanted him.

And so you let go. "Whatever you say, Loverboy," and with a kiss to his pink cheek, you leave him alone to ponder his complicated feelings.

Feelings that were in fact not complicated at all. Because Conner was finally, finally ready to admit to himself and to you that he wanted you. So badly.

If only you hadn't pulled away so quickly, he couldn't reciprocated the kiss or two...it would've been an easier, showing you how he feels instead of saying it out loud.

He'll kiss you next time.

M’GANN (romantic)

The Martian can't hide her liking towards you for the life of her. She could’ve even if she tried.

It was near painful, you pitied her. You almost felt bad and stopped teasing her. Almost.

It was fun though, how could you stop?

M’gann would actively seek out your approval and attention when you joined the team. It was only natural, she did it with the rest of the members, so you were no exception.

Besides, the only teammate she was kind of close with was Artemis. Was it sooo wrong of her to want to get close to you?!

Nope! Though she does wish you weren’t so…forward sometimes. Not that it’s unwelcomed, she’s just unsure of how to act because of it. Is she supposed to reciprocate? M’gann has never seen nor experienced such a dynamic on Mars, much less on Earth. So she awkwardly blushes and smiles.

Eventually she gets used to it. And gets very much into it. She won’t vocalize her feelings, instead she’ll mind link and talk that way. Often times it’s easier to communicate through touch. Which says a lot, M’gann would rather use touch?? Not the mind link?? Which was the main source of communication on Mars? Whoa.

It was mainly because…she didn’t want to reveal all her feelings to you. She’s usually able to control what goes through the mind link, having done it since childhood, but you’ve made her mind a complete mess. She all but short circuits when you’re around.

Can anyone blame her?

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"No."

"Well you can read me, can't you Martian girl?"

She giggles at herself, how could she forget? "Hello Megan!"

Her smile turns timid once she reads your mind.

"Oh."

ARTEMIS (romantic)

It was honestly unfair how fast the blonde caught your attention. Her voice. Her stupid raspy voice.

Unfortunately for you, Artemis wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with you at first. Well, she wasn’t really with any of her teammates. But with time she’s learned to get along with everyone.

“I just wanna get to know you, Blondie. What’s wrong with that?” You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster up, one that usually made everyone fall.

Yet she rolls her eyes.

So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Fine.

It was right after a mission, everyone was surrounding Red Tornado, relaying the events to your mentor.

“You know we could’ve took that guy down way faster had you not been on Robin the whole time.”

“Jealous Blondie?

“Stop calling me Blondie!”

You had sleepovers, movie nights, and other hang out outside of missions. With or without the rest of the team. They were fun, the first time you were alone with her is what really got her to warm up to you.

“Ugh! Of course literally everyone else canceled but Cat.” She really seemed to hate you.

You were outside her window, watching as Artemis complained to no one but herself. She once offhandedly commented on how her place was off limits for hangouts (refusing to explain why, which was okay with the team).

You were definitely crossing a boundary doing this, but she seemed upset in the group chat. You couldn’t just leave her by herself.

And then…the Sportsmaster walks in her room. One of the team’s enigmas. A thorn in their side. What the hell?

He does nothing but berate her for not “joining them.” Joining who? Then proceeds to say he’d be happier if she ever thinks to change her mind

“I’m never going to be apart of your messed up team, dad.”

Oh.

And then he’s just…gone.

You’re stunned, and only then does she finally notice you. She ushers you into her room, now berating you for your actions and spying and breaking her boundaries and…

“Your secret is safe with me, babe.” It was meant to be a term of endearment to reassure her,

Friends called each other babe, right?

“Babe?”

“You’d rather be called Blondie?”

She rolls her eyes, “whatever.” And as annoyed as she wanted to seem, she smiled and hugged you gratefully.

It was the only time you allowed yourself to be any kind of vulnerable around her. Or any of the team for that matter.

Once she got over her high horse, it was a very reluctant friendship turned…something more? That’s to be determined. But with the way she now flirts back? You’d say that was a good sign.

“Hey Blondie.”

“You calling me Blondie is the equivalent of Wally calling you Kitty Cat. Maybe I’ll have to teach you a lesson this time around.”

“I like the way you think, babe.” (You say not so platonically this time)

ROY (romantic)

You were on him as soon as he rejoined the team. How could you not be? He was even grumpier than Conner was when he joined, making him extra fun to mess with.

You had no chill when flirting with him, he decided immediately that was annoyed with you. And did not want to be friends.

Because his actual friends brought him joy, they made him laugh and they listened to him when he had bad days. You? You made a bad first impression, therefore he refused give you the chance to do any of those things.

Often telling you to buzz off and if you didn’t he’d “choke you with a hair ball.” Kinky, you replied.

He hated it.

Until you found out about his girl, his other Cat. Cheshire. That’s when things changed. You were less…on him.

"Me and her were never a thing!"

"Getting defensive there. Afraid I'll get jealous?"

"I could care less about your feelings."

“Oh really? Is that right?”

His eye twitched. He couldn’t believe he was trying to…reassure you? Was that what he was doing?

He was trying to make sure you knew he wasn’t with Cheshire. That her feelings were one sided. It’s something he shouldn’t be doing, he tells himself. In fact, he should be doing the opposite. Tell you that she means something to him, or maybe stay quiet and insinuate that they had something going on.

To get you off his back.

You seemed to back off completely when you found out Cheshire flirted with him often on missions when the goal was to take her down. Much like how the team’s predicament when they first met you.

It made you…upset?

And for some reason that made him upset.

“So you’re my Roy Toy? Mine completely?” Wally and Robin had originally griped about the nickname until it eventually made them laugh. They came to appreciate it.

“I’m no one’s. Not yours, not Cheshire’s, not the Justice League’s nor the team’s.”

“You will be mine one day, Speedy. And you’ll love it.”

Roy doesn’t respond but he feels like…there is some truth to your playful statement.

Maybe one day.

bonus:

THE TEAM

They all slowly turn towards you.

"...you've kissed all of us?"

You only shrug, “wasn’t that obvious?”

you can tell I got lazy lmaooo

I hate how I formatted this omg

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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

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head principal!max verstappen was supposed to retire over five years ago. but that never happened. he often joked that the allure of racing pulled him back in. it was only on his second year of being head principal that he met you. painfully beautiful in the gear for the promising verstappen team. his logo over your heart as you followed him like a lost puppy around the paddock. max didn't want to think about the age gap, or the power dynamic or how you were able to bound the stairs so easily while he had a dull throb in his leg from decades of wear and tear.

when he was racing, he thought he had his whole life planned out. but, life never planned out that way. his fellow drivers all got married, moved on and even had families. while max was still finding his comforts on the track. it was why you were such a surprise. max took a gamble on you and it paid off. powerful on the track and a darling in front of the press. you were trained to a t for formula one. smiles and trophies, a beaut for them. max remembered when he saw you for the first time in the fireproof underlayer of your uniform. the 'm' and the 'v' of his logo partially warped due to the size of your breasts. his gaze lingered and made you stand up a little straighter. you swallowed and meekly asked, "does this look alright, mister verstappen?" and max simply replied, "you wear it with pride." as he reached out, testing the waters to rub your shoulder, "continue to wear it with pride." and you, with a big smile nodded happily. he knew you fought like hell to get to where you were, a girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere. no one wanted to sign you, except for max.

it was only about time you two collided into each other. and that started over your car. the pretty black of the vehicle looked lovely against your form as he bent you over it. his hands on the zip of your jeans before he pulled them down to your ankles. he admired your behind before he gave it a slap. you whimpered. when he eventually got the two of you naked enough and sank into your cock. it was like everything clicked together. this what was what he was missing. he held onto you tightly, like you were going slip away from his grasp. he groaned against your skin with his nose in your hair soon after. his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he wouldn't find out till later that you were actually a virgin which only excited max more. oh, you were a virgin? no other man was able to get their hands on you just like no other team in f1 could. you were max's in any way he could get you. he had sex many times, there was no dry spell in his life for pussy. but when he pulled the first orgasm out of you, you having to cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut, he knew he was far gone. anything you wanted, he'd give you. except something licked at his brain, wearing verstappen branded gear was hot on you. but wearing his last name like a title only made you more stunning to him. wouldn't be the first time someone his age got with someone who was questionably younger. even though you were an adult, it would still raise a few eyebrows. your voice was strained when you called out for him, "mister verstappen! mister verstappen!" he came back to reality and heard your sweet voice say, "can you slow down, you're going to bruise me." and max almost came right at that moment. instead he slowed down, letting you enjoy this intimate feeling.

when he eventually finished inside of you, your sweaty half-clothed body over the hood of your precious car. he helped you back into your clothes and when you got back up right, you clung to him like a gentle kitten. you even pouted when you said, "you didn't even kiss me, mister verstappen." and he simply chuckled and took you by the chin before he kissed you. he then said, "if you win this weekend there will be more where that came from." max waited for the write up, or the press headline or something the following week. but nothing came, instead max received pictures of you whenever you were apart. speculation did swirl when a photo of you seated on max's thigh while he explained how your free practice went, his hand around your waist. those same hands would be on both hips as he buried his cock into you. your sweet moans echoed in his mind as he took you apart on the bed. you were in the netherlands and he wanted to 'wish you luck' which meant letting the fat tip of his cock nudge against your sweet cervix. after most races you'd whine about body pain in your lower half from how you couldn't sit comfortable due to the damage that max had did. "shouldn't you be going slower, old man!" you whined as he continued to fuck you. you tried to hit his strong back, but years of formula one followed by other trainings post "retirement" left him easy to overpower you. pin you down and take you by the waist. let his cock drool pre cum into your sweet sex. even if you hit and scratched up his back when it all became too much. it felt almost romantic, max's lips against your neck as he thrusted into you. when he wasn't fucking you quickly, he was taking so hard thrusts that made you drool all over the bed. you complained about him being too fast, but now you were going to feel every inch inside of your sore pussy.

you were so eager to please. you wanted to do the team right. max would make sure that you were taken care of. contracts, cars, all of it. you just sign the dotted line and keep looking as beautiful as you were. don't worry that the team branded t-shirts were always a little too tight on you and don't mind that it was max's last name on your track pass. "it was just a printing error." "they think i'm married to you though." "is that a bad thing to think?" "no, sir."

slowly seeding ideas into your head. could you imagine the contract you'd have if you got closer to max verstappen. he'd often hold you in his arms after sex and remark that it had been too long since there was a verstappen on the track. while he enjoyed the position he was in now, he longed for his last name on the podium. you simply cuddled closer to him and let him drag his hand across your thigh, "maybe one day, sir." you smiled, "maybe you'll get lucky and have a child!" while that idea was sweet, he didn't want to cut your career short. not that short at least. for now he'd have to simply put into your mind that while your last name was lovely. his last name would look a lot nicer. as he kissed down your neck, it was a promise. you'd be his super star on the track and his loving wife off of it. <3

a/n: reader is an adult, just with an age gap to raise and eyebrow at.

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pbaz7 · 18 days ago

Text

ONE SHOT: GRAVITY

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content (lowkey crazy)

word count: 15.6k

A/N: This is lowkey crazy. It wasn’t supposed to be this long but I wanted to follow their prompt fully because they included so many details🥹. This is for whoever asked me to write them in a homoerotic friendship with jealous girlfriends and hella tension. I hope I brought your vision to life 🫶🏼. Also the sexual content is a little crazy just a heads up ✨ it’s what they asked for 😀 Them love reacts better be long because this was rough

—————————————————————————

The first time Paige met Azzi, it was like something in the universe clicked into place. It wasn’t anything dramatic—no lightning bolts or instant sparks between them—but there was a certain ease between them that Paige couldn’t ignore. It was during a Team USA training camp, and while most of the other girls were politely navigating introductions, Paige, in true Paige fashion, latched onto Azzi like they’d known each other forever.

“Alright I guess I’m stuck with you,” Azzi had said after Paige had followed her to nearly every drill, every water break, and even halfway to the locker room. There was a teasing edge to her voice, but the corners of her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. A real smile. Not the polite kind she gave to everyone else, but something softer, something that would eventually become just for Paige.

Paige, of course, had grinned wide, completely unbothered by the jab. “Don’t worry you’ll get used to it,” she’d said with a shrug, already acting like they were inseparable. And, as it turned out, they were.

From that moment on, they’d been each other’s shadow. Azzi liked to pretend Paige’s constant attention annoyed her, always throwing in a sarcastic comment or rolling her eyes when Paige got particularly clingy. But anyone who knew Azzi well enough could see the way her expression softened whenever Paige was near. She didn’t just tolerate Paige; she thrived with her around.

Over the years, their friendship grew deeper, more complicated in ways neither of them could have predicted. It wasn’t just the jokes and playful shoves or the way Paige always knew how to make Azzi laugh, even on her worst days. It was the way they existed in each other’s space so naturally, so effortlessly, that it almost felt like breathing and breathing got a little harder when the other one wasn’t around.

At first, the lines they crossed were small, so subtle they could almost pretend they weren’t there. Azzi’s hand lingering a second too long on Paige’s shoulder during a team huddle. The way Paige’s voice softened when she spoke to Azzi, even when she was in full-on competitive mode or yelling two seconds before. Then there were the private moments—stolen late-night conversations where the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of them and whatever unspoken thing pulsed between them.

Neither of them addressed it. Why would they? What they had felt perfect as it was. They leaned into it, basked in it, even as it made their exes irritable or filled with discomfort.

“How can you not see it?” one of Paige’s exes demanded once, her voice rising with frustration in the middle of Paige’s room. “The way you two look at each other—it’s like I don’t even exist when she’s around!” Paige had shrugged off the accusation, the same way she always did. She wasn’t about to dissect her relationship with Azzi for anyone, least of all someone who clearly didn’t get it.

Azzi had similar run-ins with her own girlfriends. One had even gone as far as to call Paige a “third wheel,” which made Azzi laugh harder than it probably should have at the idea of Paige being the one who was the third wheel. “Look if you’re insecure,” she’d said coolly, “then maybe this isn’t going to work.” It hadn’t.

Through all the breakups and messy accusations, Paige and Azzi never changed. They stayed in their little bubble, handsy and playful and just a little too intense, but never quite crossing the line. It was safer that way, they told themselves multiple times. Safer to stay in the gray area, where nothing could go wrong and everything stayed perfect.

Except, now, they were older, so things were starting to feel different. Heavier. The looks lasted way too long. The touches lingered with a heat that left both of them feeling uncomfortable.

Now, as juniors at UConn, Paige and Azzi had built something unshakable—at least, unshakable to them. Paige, a red-shirt junior after tearing her ACL the year before, had made her way back to the court with Azzi as her biggest supporter every step of the way. They had been through it all together: the grueling practices, the late-night study sessions, the euphoric wins, the heartbreaking injuries, they have spent almost every memorable moment of their lives by one anothers side. Yet, for some reason neither could articulate—or maybe they just didn’t want to—they refused to fully cross the line and be together.

Which left them here: two college athletes in their 20s, in the best shape of their lives, with years of unresolved tension simmering between them. It was almost comical when Paige thought about it. How many times had she walked into Azzi’s dorm, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be able to do what she wanted.

Living just a few doors down from each other didn’t help. If anything, it made things worse. Proximity was its own kind of torture. Paige would find herself drunkenly walking past Azzi’s room after a night out clenching her jaw at the thought of knocking.

Whenever the two of them were in the same room, everyone else might as well not exist. It was a phenomenon their teammates had long since grown used to, though it still sparked the occasional teasing when one of them was being unreasonably jealous. At parties, team meetings, or even casual hangouts, Paige and Azzi had this way of orbiting each other. Sometimes it was as simple as the way Paige would lean in close when Azzi spoke, her eyes fixed on Azzi’s lips the entire time. Other times, it was the way Azzi’s hand would find Paige’s arm, her fingers wrapping around her bicep as if it was her right to do so.

Their teammates noticed. Their friends noticed. And, of course, their girlfriends noticed.

It was a source of constant arguments for both of them. Paige’s girlfriend, frustrated and teetering on the edge of insecurity, had confronted her more than once. “Why do you even need me if you have her?” she’d snapped during one particularly heated fight. Paige had stared at her, dumbfounded, because what was she supposed to say? What did she expect her to say? That she didn’t need Azzi? That she could go a day without thinking about her, texting her, missing her when she wasn’t around?

“You’re overreacting,” Paige said, her voice clipped. “Azzi’s my best friend. I’m not about to change how I am with her because you don’t like it.”

Azzi’s girlfriend expressed similar frustrations, accusing her of being “too close” to Paige, of crossing lines that no one else seemed to get away with. Azzi had brushed it off just as easily as Paige had, if not easier. “If you can’t handle me having a best friend, then maybe I’m not the type of girl you’re looking for,” she’d said coolly, shutting the conversation down before it could spiral.

And so the cycle continued. Arguments, tension, half-hearted apologies, and a refusal to change. Because the truth was, Paige and Azzi didn’t see anything wrong with the way they were. To them, it was just how they worked. How they had always worked. They weren’t going to apologize for it.

But deep down, they both knew it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t simple at all really. They were completely in love with one another.

For now, though, they kept pretending. Pretending that their girlfriends’ constant jealousy didn’t irritate them. Pretending that their late-night conversations and far too intimate inanimate behavior was completely innocent. Pretending that they weren’t both standing on the edge of a bridge waiting for something inevitable to plunge them into freezing water.

Because once they jumped, there would be no going back, no pretending it didn’t exist anymore. And maybe—just maybe—that’s exactly what they were afraid of.

The dorm common room was lively with chatter and the soft clinking of LEGO pieces filling the air as KK, Ice, and Jana sat at the table, deeply engrossed in their latest construction project. Paige, however, was sprawled on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on her phone. Her girlfriend, Kehlani, sat beside her, the two of them technically together but clearly existing in separate worlds at the moment. Kehlani had been trying, unsuccessfully, to get Paige’s attention for the last 15 minutes, only to give up and return to her own phone in silent frustration when Paige was incessant that she was doing something important.

The atmosphere shifted the moment Azzi walked in. Dressed in her usual athletic wear and exuding her effortless confidence, she greeted the group at the table saying casually, “What are y’all building now?” KK mumbled something about a Star Wars set, but Azzi was already moving past them, her attention zeroing in on the couch—and on Paige.

“Hey,” Azzi said with a grin, walking straight up to them as if Kehlani wasn’t even there. Without hesitation, she plopped down on the couch, her movements familiar. In one smooth motion, she grabbed Paige’s knee, parting them just enough to slide her own legs in between, draping them comfortably across Paige’s lap.

Kehlani looked up from her phone, her eyebrows furrowing as she watched the scene unfold. But she didn’t say anything. This was tame compared to some of the things she’s witnessed.

Paige, on the other hand, chuckled softly, locking her phone and setting it aside. “Hello to you too,” she said, her tone teasing.

Azzi grinned, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “I missed you,” she said casually, her eyes locking with Paige’s. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

Paige’s focus was now fully on Azzi, something Kehlani had been desperately trying to achieve. “You’re the one who’s been busy,” Paige shot back with a playful smirk, her hand sliding over Azzi’s leg as she adjusted it, pulling it more securely into her lap. The movement was instinctive, practiced—like they’d done this a hundred times before.

Kehlani’s grip on her phone tightened. She glanced between them, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Do you need me to move over?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Paige blinked, as if remembering for the first time that Kehlani was even there. “Huh? Nah, you’re fine,” she said quickly, brushing off the question. Her hand, however, didn’t move from Azzi’s leg.

Azzi leaned her head back against the couch, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re being dramatic, Paige,” she teased, ignoring Kehlani entirely and going back to their original conversation. “I wasn’t even that busy today.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Paige quipped, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on Azzi’s shin.

From the table, Ice shot KK a knowing look, raising an eyebrow as if to say here we go again. KK stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she turned back to the LEGO set. They’d seen this dynamic play out too many times to be surprised anymore.

Kehlani, however, was visibly uncomfortable, shifting in her seat and staring at the two of them like she was waiting for something—anything—to break the tension. But nothing ever did. Everyone knew this was just how they were. What no one could quite figure out, though, was why either of their “girlfriends” put up with it.

It wasn’t like Paige or Azzi had ever pretended their relationships were sacred. In fact, both had made it crystal clear on more than one occasion that they wouldn’t hesitate to walk away and that this was just something casual for when they were in season. “If you don’t like how we are, we can end it,” Paige had once said, almost nonchalantly, during a heated argument. Azzi wasn’t any different, offering Kali a similar, “You really don’t have to stay.”

But for whatever reason—whether it was the allure of dating two of UConn’s biggest stars or simply the hope that things might change—Kehlani and Kali stayed around. They endured. They tolerated. Even when moments like this made it painfully clear they were never going to be anything more than someone to turn to here and there when the tension became too uncomfortable to sit with.

Paige licked her lips absently, lifting her hips slightly to adjust Azzi’s legs again, which were still draped over her lap like they belonged there. Her hand gave an idle squeeze to Azzi’s calf before she glanced up. “You busy tonight?” she asked casually, her attention fixed entirely on Azzi.

Azzi tilted her head, her brown eyes drifting down to Paige’s hand on her leg. “Why?” she asked, her voice laced with flirtation.

Paige smirked. “Whatchu mean ‘why?’” she shot back, leaning into the word with a playful edge.

“Why are you asking me if I’m busy tonight?” Azzi pressed, a smile on her face, clearly enjoying the banter.

Paige rolled her eyes, leaning back against the couch. “I’m tryna come over,” she said simply. “Maybe watch a movie or something.”

Azzi chuckled softly, like she knew exactly where this was going. “You fall asleep every time,” she pointed out, her gaze flicking back up to Paige’s.

“Probably because you always pick boring-ass movies,” Paige said, a huge smile on her face.

Azzi’s laughter followed quickly. “You picked the last movie,” she countered, her voice full of mock indignation.

Their back-and-forth was so effortless, so locked into their own little world, that it took Kehlani a moment to realize they’d completely forgotten she was even sitting there. But she hadn’t forgotten. Not for a second.

“What if I want to hang out with Paige tonight?” Kehlani interjected suddenly, her voice cutting through the conversation.

Azzi froze, but only for a moment, her expression unreadable as she leaned back and waited for Paige’s response. She didn’t need to say anything—she already knew Paige would.

Paige turned her head, finally acknowledging Kehlani for the first time since Azzi had walked in. “Come on,” she said, her tone light, almost dismissive. “You been with me all day.”

Paige turned her head, finally acknowledging Kehlani for the first time fully since Azzi had walked in. “Come on,” she said, her tone light, almost dismissive. “You’ve been with me all day. We can just hang out tomorrow.”

Kehlani’s mouth opened slightly, her brow furrowing as she processed the casualness of it all—the way Paige said it like it was obvious, like it wasn’t even up for debate.

Kehlani’s voice was sharper now, her frustration rising. “What if I don’t want to hang out tomorrow?”

Paige shrugged, unfazed. “Then we’ll hang out the next day.” Her tone was calm, almost too calm, as if she couldn’t understand why Kehlani was making this a bigger deal than it needed to be.

For some reason, that made it worse. Kehlani’s frustration boiled over, her voice rising just enough to catch the attention of KK and Ice at the table. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about hanging out, Paige!”

Paige exhaled, visibly trying to keep her cool as she leaned back against the couch, her hand still casually draped over Azzi’s leg. “Look, I’m not about to argue with you in front of everybody right now,” she said evenly.

Kehlani crossed her arms, leaning forward slightly. “What? You embarrassed?”

Paige let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as if the question was almost laughable. Her hands remained where they were—comfortable, unbothered, still casually resting on Azzi, who hadn’t even looked up from her phone since the interruption. “No,” Paige said. “I’m just not about to argue with you right now.”

But Kehlani wasn’t backing down, she never did, her voice rising again as she tried to provoke Paige like always. “Right, because Azzi’s here. You don’t want to look bad in front of her, huh?”

Paige’s eyes flicked to her briefly before she shook her head again, her voice calm. “Come on, don’t make me do this to you in front of everybody.”

Her words, said so casually yet so definitively, made Kehlani’s face flush with a mix of anger and humiliation. KK, Ice and Jana exchanged awkward glances, clearly trying to stay out of it but they were struggling to hold in their giggles.

Azzi, still scrolling on her phone, finally shifted slightly, glancing between the two of them before giving Paige a subtle nudge with her foot, like she was silently telling her to chill. Paige glanced at her, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of her lips before she turned back to Kehlani.

“You good?” Paige asked simply, her voice a little softer. It wasn’t a question that invited a real argument—it was a question that implied this conversation was over.

Kehlani’s lips pressed into a line as she sat back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She didn’t say anything else, but the tension in the room was thick, her frustration hanging heavy in the air.

Azzi shifted slightly in Paige’s lap, breaking the silence with a small sigh as she finally spoke. “Y’all good? Or can we go back to pretending this isn’t super awkward?”

KK, Ice, and Jana’s laughter finally filled the room as Paige and Azzi went back to their conversation.

“Alright so, what’s the move?” Paige asked, her voice low as she shifted slightly, her arm still resting over Azzi’s leg. “Your room or mine?”

Azzi smiled, tilting her head as her eyes dropped to Paige’s hand absentmindedly tracing patterns against her skin. “Mine. Obviously.”

“Obviously? Az bro, please. My bed is bigger. Way more comfortable.”

Azzi’s lips quirked. “Your bed’s overrated and I can never wake up on time in there with those black out curtains.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “One my bed isn’t overrated and you know it. Two, I can't handle your non-existent curtains. It wakes me up too early.”

“I know you can’t handle it,” Azzi teased, her smirk growing. “You whine about it every single time. It’s cute, though—makes me think you just like finding reasons to stay.”

The room seemed to grow smaller at that, the air between them growing a little tense. Paige’s laugh came a little too late, her fingers tightening slightly around Azzi’s leg. “Don’t flatter yourself. I stay for the snacks.”

Azzi tilted her head, her gaze flickering to Paige’s lips before settling back on her eyes. “You sure about that?” she asked, her voice dipping lower.

Paige held her gaze, her smirk faltering for a split second as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Pretty sure. You don’t have anything else I want.”

Azzi leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve always been such a bad liar Paige.”

Across the room, Jana stilled mid-motion, her hand hovering over a Lego piece as her eyes darted to the two of them. KK and Ice exchanged a look, KK mouthing a silent “Yikes” before turning back to their project.

“You’re ridiculous,” Paige said, shaking her head with a soft laugh, but the way her fingers brushed over Azzi’s leg a little higher betrayed her.

“Ridiculous enough to keep you coming back,” Azzi shot back.

Paige opened her mouth to respond, but her breath hitched when Azzi added, “But I get it—you gotta keep up appearances. We’ll see later.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her laugh coming out strained. “Yeah we’ll see later.”

That was the moment Kehlani finally broke, the tension in her chest snapping. She stood abruptly, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

Paige barely looked up, still holding Azzi’s gaze. “You good?”

Kehlani let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I’m great. Just remembered I’ve got somewhere else to be.”

Azzi finally turned her head, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at Kehlani. “You sure?”

Kehlani ignored the comment, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Have fun tonight Paige. Looks like you already are.”

Paige’s smirk faded as she watched Kehlani walk out, the door slamming harder than it needed to. For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the faint sound of KK, Ice and Jana pretending to be preoccupied with their Legos.

Azzi broke the silence, her voice light. “Think she’s mad at me?”

Paige chuckles, leaning back against the couch. “She’s mad at me,” she muttered, though her hand stayed firmly on Azzi’s leg.

“Can’t blame her,” Azzi said softly, her eyes locking with Paige’s again. “I’d be mad too if I had to watch this.”

Paige’s breath caught, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s skin before she forced herself to look away, her jaw clenching so tightly it ached.

Jana raised her eyebrows, fully catching the moment and glancing toward KK and Ice like, Are we really going to pretend we didn’t hear that? But Ice just shook her head, mouthing, Let it go.

Paige finally exhaled, her voice low as she tried to steer the conversation back. “So…whose room is it gonna be?”

Azzi’s grin returned. “Yours,” she said. “But only because you’re such a baby about my blinds and I’m being nice.”

Paige huffed out a laugh, holding out her hand to Azzi. “Let’s go before you say something else that gets me in trouble.”

Azzi took her hand, standing up and leaning just close enough to murmur, “Maybe I can do something this time instead.”

…

The glow of the TV screen cast a faint light across Paige's room, illuminating the two of them as they lay side by side on her bed. The random movie playing in the background barely registered to either of them, its plotline easily forgotten beneath the quiet hum of tension that seemed to follow them everywhere.

Paige had ditched her hoodie the moment they got comfortable, leaving her in a fitted black tank top that clung to her toned frame and a pair of loose gray sweats that hung on her hips. Azzi, meanwhile, had claimed one of Paige’s XL hoodies she stole from the storage closet—navy blue with "UConn" printed across the chest—and it practically swallowed her, the hoodie just long enough to hide her pajama shorts underneath.

For a while, they sat in relative silence, their occasional comments about the movie mixed in with quiet chuckles.

Paige adjusted her position, shifting slightly to lean back against her headboard. Her hands slid behind her head, fingers lacing together as she let out a content sigh. The movement caused the hem of her tank top to ride up, revealing a strip of skin just above the waistband of her sweats.

Azzi’s gaze flicked downward, the motion unintentional at first—but once her eyes landed on the exposed skin, they lingered. The way Paige’s muscles shifted with each breath was almost hypnotic.

Without fully thinking about it, Azzi reached out, her fingers brushing lightly over the bare skin.

Paige’s head tilted down, her brow lifting as her eyes met Azzi’s. “What are you doing?” she asked softly, her tone somewhere between amused and curious.

Azzi didn’t stop, her fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns along the line of Paige’s stomach. Her touch was featherlight, sending a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she replied.

Paige shifted slightly, her stomach tensing under Azzi’s touch. “Looks like you’re trying to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?” Azzi asked, a smile forming on her face. Her eyes flicked up to Paige’s, the challenge clear in them.

Paige exhaled, a small, breathy laugh escaping her lips. “From this terrible movie you picked.”

Azzi snorted softly, her fingers still moving in slow circles. “You picked the movie,” she corrected.

“Well, you didn’t stop me,” Paige countered, her voice soft but strained as she shifted again, her arms dropping to her sides. Her hand moved instinctively, fingers lightly wrapping around Azzi’s wrist to still her movements.

Azzi’s smile deepened, her thumb now brushing deliberately against Paige’s skin. “You gonna stop me?” she asked, her voice dipping lower, the question feeling heavier than it should have.

Paige stared at her, the air between them growing impossibly thick. “Should I?” she asked back, her voice quiet, almost a whisper.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the only sound in the room being the faint dialogue from the forgotten movie. Azzi’s fingers stilled against Paige’s stomach, but she didn’t pull away, her gaze locked on Paige’s like she was daring her to make the next move.

Paige’s jaw tightened slightly. “You’re gonna start something we can’t finish,” she murmured.

Azzi didn’t respond right away, but the glint in her eyes said more than words ever could. Instead, she moved, her weight shifting as she climbed on top of Paige, settling herself comfortably in her lap. She straddled Paige’s waist effortlessly, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her.

Paige didn't even react. So used to having Azzi on her like this but this time her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity when Azzi grabbed the loose string of Paige’s sweatpants.

Azzi’s fingers toyed with the string lazily, looping it around her finger as if she had all the time in the world. Her expression was calm but her eyes burned with unspoken intent. “Who says we can’t finish it?” she finally said, her voice low, almost a purr.

Paige let out a breathless laugh, her gaze locked on Azzi’s. “You’re bold tonight,” she said, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed any attempt at sounding unaffected.

Azzi just smirked, her head tilting slightly. “I’ve always been bold,” she said, her hands still playing with the string.

Before she could push it further, Paige’s hands came up, wrapping around Azzi’s wrists firmly but gently to get her to stop. Her fingers slipped between Azzi’s, interlacing them as she guided their hands away from her waist. Paige looked up at her, the smile on her face soft but her grip strong.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble,” Paige murmured, her voice strained. She didn’t look away, her thumbs absentmindedly brushing against Azzi’s knuckles.

Azzi leaned in closer, their faces now only inches apart. “Trouble?” she repeated, her breath warm against Paige’s skin. “I think you like trouble.”

Paige’s smile widened slightly, her eyes dropping to Azzi’s lips for the briefest of moments before flicking back up. “Maybe,” she admitted, her voice low. “But not when it comes to you.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. “Especially when it comes to me.” she challenged back, her fingers tightening around Paige’s in response.

Paige didn’t answer immediately, her gaze searching Azzi’s face like she was trying to decide how far to let this go. Eventually, she exhaled sharply, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning back slightly but not moving from her spot. “Good thing I’ll make it worth it,” she replied.

Paige’s brow lifted at that, her lips curling into a grin. “Oh yeah? How you gonna make it worth it?”

Azzi leaned forward again, closing the gap between them just enough for her voice to drop. “That depends,” she said, her gaze locked on Paige’s. “What do you like?”

Paige blinked slowly, her smirk fading as her expression grew more serious. Her eyes searched Azzi’s, studying her, trying to gauge just how far Azzi was willing to take this tonight. The air between them was too thick, and for a moment, Paige almost didn’t answer. But then she sat up slightly, her confidence returning as she spoke.

“I like being in control,” she said simply.

Azzi’s head tilted at this, her lips curving into an intrigued smile. “Yeah?” she asked, her voice soft, almost coaxing.

Paige just nodded, her jaw tightening at Azzi’s tone as she kept her eyes on the curly haired girl, daring her to react.

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, her smile growing as she shifted her weight, pressing down just slightly to remind Paige of the position she was in. “What kind of control?” Azzi asked, her tone full of curiosity.

Paige let her head fall back slightly, her tongue running across her bottom lip before she looked up at Azzi through her lashes. “All of it,” she replied.

Azzi exhaled a short laugh, her eyes flickering with interest. “All of it,” she repeated, as if testing the words on her tongue. She leaned in closer, her lips just barely brushing the shell of Paige’s ear as she spoke. “What if I told you I like being submissive P?”

Paige’s brows raised slightly in surprise, her hands instinctively tightening their grip on Azzi’s. “Do you now?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity but tinged with amusement.

Azzi pulled back just enough to look Paige in the eyes, her gaze steady. “I do,” she admitted, her voice softer now but still filled with confidence. “But no one’s ever been able to make me submit before.”

Paige’s fingers twitched where they were still holding Azzi’s hands, the slight movement enough to catch Azzi’s attention. Azzi glanced down at their joined hands, a small smile playing on her lips as she lifted them and guided Paige’s hands under her hoodie, placing them firmly on her waist.

The warmth of Azzi’s skin under her palms sent a jolt through Paige, her jaw tightening almost involuntarily. She shifted her hips beneath Azzi, trying to find some semblance of restraint, but the pressure between them only heightened the tension in the room. Their eyes locked, the silence between them speaking volumes as neither of them looked away.

Paige, unable to hold back any longer, tugged Azzi closer by the front of her hoodie, the sudden movement leaving no space between them. Azzi’s lips parted slightly, her eyes flickering with something playful as she whispered, “You want me.”

It wasn’t a question—it was a fact, delivered in that same confident tone Azzi always carried.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound low and rough, her grip tightening on Azzi’s waist. “No, I don’t,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Azzi raised a brow at her, the corners of her lips curling into a smirk. “Right,” she said. “And the sky isn’t blue.”

Paige’s smirk widened as she tilted her head, leaning in slightly, their faces barely inches apart. “You want me,” she countered, her eyes boring into Azzi’s.

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t,” she denied, though her voice betrayed her, softer and less certain than it should’ve been if there was any truth to the words.

Paige’s gaze dropped to Azzi’s lips for a fleeting second before returning to her eyes. “Liar,” she murmured, her hands sliding ever so slightly higher under Azzi’s hoodie, her fingers pressing gently against her ribs.

Azzi swallowed, her breath getting stuck for a moment before she forced herself to smirk again. “Prove it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, the challenge clear in her tone.

Paige considered Azzi’s words for a moment, her eyes flicking between Azzi’s lips and the playful glint in her eyes. “We’ll get in trouble if I do,” Paige said.

Azzi tilted her head, her smile never falling as she leaned down. She stretched out over Paige’s chest, her weight settling comfortably as if she belonged there. Her lips hovered near Paige’s neck now, close enough that Paige could feel the faint brush of her breath.

Azzi didn’t say anything. She just lingered there, her nose grazing the edge of Paige’s jaw as she breathed her in, taking her time like she had all the patience in the world. The warmth of her closeness, the soft scent of her, was enough to send Paige’s pulse racing, her heart pounding so loudly she knew Azzi could feel it.

Neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable—an unspoken understanding settling in the air that they went far enough today. Paige’s hands, still resting under Azzi’s hoodie, started to move, her fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along the curve of Azzi’s ribs. The light pressure of her touch seemed to ground them both, though Paige’s own heart was far from calm.

Azzi sighed softly, her breath warm against Paige’s neck as she nestled closer, her face burying deeper into the curve of Paige’s neck. Her weight was warm and familiar, her presence something that felt so natural.

The movie played on in the background, long forgotten. The screen’s flickering light painted their quiet moment in soft, shifting shadows, but neither of them noticed. Azzi’s breathing began to slow, her body relaxing fully against Paige’s.

Paige, too, felt herself drifting, the tension she always carried melting away as Azzi pressed into her. Her fingers still moved lightly against Azzi’s ribs, though her motions became lazier, slower, until they stopped altogether.

And just like that, they fell asleep.

…

The sharp flick of the light switch broke the quiet of the morning, alternating between brightness and darkness like a strobe. Paige groaned in protest, her face scrunching up against the sudden intrusion. With a low grumble, she shifted, her arms wrapping tighter around Azzi, who was still lying across her.

Without fully opening her eyes, Paige let out a frustrated huff and shifted their positions, rolling them over so that she was sprawled on top of Azzi. She buried her face in Azzi’s neck now, trying to shield herself from the offensive light.

“Seriously, Isuneh?” Paige muttered, her voice muffled and rough with sleep.

Azzi stirred beneath her, blinking awake slowly at the movement and the flickering light. She shifted, her hands lightly resting on Paige’s back. “What’s going on?” Azzi mumbled, her voice groggy.

Ice leaned casually against the doorframe, a smirk on her face as she flipped the light switch again. “Paige, Kehlani’s here,” she said. “Figured I’d spare you the argument today and come wake you up before I let her in.”

Paige groaned louder at this, her forehead pressing deeper into Azzi’s shoulder. “Turn it off. I don’t care,” she grumbled, her words barely audible.

Azzi’s lips quirked into a sleepy smile, her hand brushing lightly against Paige’s side. “Paige…” she said softly, trying to coax her.

When Ice flicked the light switch one more time for good measure, Paige let out another groan of annoyance, her fingers digging lightly into Azzi’s waist. “You’re dead to me,” she muttered toward Ice, though her face remained firmly hidden.

Azzi chuckled, now fully awake, her hand lazily tracing patterns along Paige’s back. She lifted her head slightly to glance at Ice. “I got it,” she said, her voice still soft and groggy. “Just give me five minutes.”

Ice raised a brow at the scene, the sight of Paige practically plastered to Azzi’s chest. But she said nothing, instead letting out a small laugh as she locked the door before shutting it behind her.

Azzi sighed, leaning her head back against the pillow. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen. It was still early—way too early for any of this.

“Paige,” Azzi murmured, glancing down at the girl now sprawled across her. Paige didn’t respond, her body still dead weight against Azzi’s as if she had every intention of going back to sleep.

“We’ve got time,” Azzi said gently, her hand sliding up and down Paige’s spine. “Practice isn’t for another hour and a half.”

Paige shifted slightly, her arm tightening around Azzi’s waist as she mumbled something incoherent.

Azzi smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Paige’s face. “Go back to sleep grumpy,” she murmured, her voice calm.

Paige grumbled again, adjusting herself one last time, her breath evening out as she settled back into Azzi.

Azzi let her head fall back against the pillow, her fingers continuing to trace lazy patterns along Paige’s back. The warmth of their closeness and the quiet rhythm of Paige’s breathing lulled them both into an easy calm. Just as Azzi predicted, after about five minutes, Paige’s breathing evened out, signaling she’d fallen asleep again.

Azzi sighed softly, glancing down at the girl draped across her. Moving from under Paige without waking her was easier said than done. Every time Azzi shifted even slightly, Paige’s fingers instinctively grabbed at her, like she was tethered to her.

“Of course,” Azzi muttered under her breath, stifling a small laugh.

Finally, with painstaking slowness, Azzi managed to slide from under Paige and get up without disturbing her. She lingered for a moment, her gaze softening as she adjusted the blanket over Paige before grabbing her phone off the desk. Moving quietly, she slipped out of the room and shut the door gently behind her.

The sight in the living room made her stifle a laugh. Ice was leaning over the kitchen counter, her chin propped on her hand, clearly half-asleep. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was only still awake to keep Kehlani from trying to go in the room.

Azzi chuckled, padding over to the counter. “Ice, go back to bed,” she said softly, her tone more amused than anything.

Ice blinked up at her, barely awake. “Oh my god I love you,” she mumbled before trudging off to her room, shutting the door behind her with a lazy swing.

Azzi turned toward the couch, where Kehlani was sitting, her arms crossed as she glanced up at Azzi. Her eyes flickered over Azzi’s frame—the oversized hoodie clearly belonging to Paige, paired with her pajama shorts just barely visible underneath.

Azzi walked toward the door, her steps casual. “You should let her sleep,” she said simply. “We’ve got practice later, and we’re traveling for a game tomorrow. She needs the extra rest.”

Her comment was purely practical, as always—Azzi thinking about Paige’s well-being like she always did. But Kehlani’s expression shifted, the neutrality of her gaze hardening slightly.

“I think I know what my girlfriend needs,” Kehlani said, her tone sharp.

Azzi stopped mid-step, turning slowly to face her. She didn’t say anything at first, just blinked at Kehlani blankly, her expression unreadable.

Kehlani’s posture stiffened, and the silence between them stretched for a moment too long.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her calm demeanor never faltering. “If you say so,” she finally said, her voice almost dismissive. Then, without waiting for a response, she turned back toward the door.

The tension in the air was unmistakable, but Azzi had no intention of indulging Kehlani’s obvious irritation. Instead, she opened the door quietly and stepped into the hallway, leaving Kehlani sitting there, stewing in her own thoughts.

Azzi sighed as she opened the door to her room, only to freeze when she saw Kali sitting on the edge of her bed, arms crossed and her expression carefully neutral. It wasn’t unusual for Kali to speak her mind, but this was unexpected. Kali wasn’t like Kehlani—clingy and almost possessive. She had her own life and usually didn’t hover. So to find her waiting here now surprised Azzi.

“Hey,” Azzi greeted casually, recovering quickly as she walked toward the bed. She was determined to get at least 30 more minutes of sleep before practice.

Kali didn’t respond right away, just followed Azzi with her eyes as she flopped face-first onto the bed, mumbling into the sheets, “What’s up?”

“Where were you?” Kali asked, her voice calm.

“Fell asleep in Paige’s room watching a movie,” Azzi mumbled, barely lifting her head.

Kali’s tone didn’t change, but her next words were deliberate. “Kehlani texted me at a god forsaken hour. Said I should come ask you about it. Any idea why?”

Azzi let out a short laugh, turning her head just enough to glance at Kali. “I have no idea why that girl does anything she does.”

Kali tilted her head slightly, her expression sharp but not angry. “She thinks there’s something going on between you and Paige. And you know I agree with her.”

Azzi groaned, burying her face back into the pillow. So much for sleep. She pushed herself up on one elbow, her eyes meeting Kali’s. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you—me and Paige aren’t fucking.”

Technically, Azzi wasn’t lying. She and Paige had never had sex. Sure, there was that one truth-or-dare kiss her freshman year, followed by a couple of hazy, alcohol-fueled kisses later that night. But that was years ago, and nothing had happened since then. So when she said it, she meant it.

Kali, however, didn’t seem convinced. “Then why can’t you two back off each other a little? Ease our minds.”

Azzi sighed, sitting up fully now, as she regarded Kali with a steady gaze. “I’m not going to stop being close with Paige,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “Because that’s part of who I am. If that’s a problem, I get it. But I’m not changing that.”

Kali’s expression hardened slightly, her arms crossing over her chest. “How are you ever going to have anything serious with someone if you refuse to change the way you two are together?”

Azzi shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

What Azzi didn’t say, though, was the truth buried deep in her chest—the truth she never admitted to anyone. She already knew where she’d end up. She knew Paige was the one she’d eventually take seriously. They both knew it, even if they didn’t say it out loud. That was the plan: give themselves time. Time to be young, to experience other people, to live a little before stepping into something that would consume them both.

But Azzi was certain. It would always be Paige.

Kali sighed. “When you said casual girlfriends, you meant it, huh?”

Azzi leaned back against the headboard, her lips quirking up slightly as she hummed in response, offering no further explanation.

Kali got the hint. She stood, smoothing her shirt and offering Azzi a small smile. “Alright. Well, I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Thanks,” Azzi murmured, already sliding back down under the covers. “I’ll text you later.”

Kali nodded and let herself out, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Azzi exhaled deeply, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before letting her eyes drift shut.

…

Things like that continued for a while—Paige and Azzi, stuck in each other’s orbit, getting closer with every passing day. Each interaction carried a little more weight, a little more intensity, and each time, it was harder for one of them to back away. Their words were more suggestive now, even in front of others. The team had noticed too, making bets on when the two would finally stop dancing around each other. They’d dubbed it “the finish line,” one night and no one believed it was far off.

Right now, though, Paige, Ice, KK, and Kehlani were crammed in Paige’s car, parked in the lot outside of Crumbl. The car smelled like cookies and laughter filled the small space as they did a “review” of the new flavors on Ice’s TikTok Live.

Ice sat up front next to Paige, her sore knee propped up as she balanced a cookie box on her lap. Kehlani and KK shared the backseat, KK practically bouncing with excitement as she waved around a piece of the new S’mores flavor.

“Ya’ll, this one is insane,” KK yelled, breaking off a piece and leaning forward to shove it toward Paige’s face. “P boogers you gotta try this!”

Paige chuckled, keeping one hand on the wheel even though the car wasn’t moving. “KK, I’m driving. Can you not?”

Ice glanced at her and snorted. “First of all, you’re parked. Plus, the comments are saying you need to give your official take.”

Paige groaned, finally turning toward KK and taking the piece of cookie with an exaggerated eye roll. “Fine. Gimme.”

KK grinned victoriously and leaned forward, scrolling through the TikTok comments. “They’re saying the S’mores one is the best so far, but someone just called the Churro flavor a ‘sleeper hit.’ Thoughts?”

Paige chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. “Okay, yeah, S’mores is cool, but I’m team Churro on this one.”

As Paige finished her sentence, KK’s eyes widened as she leaned toward Ice’s phone. “Azzi’s in the chat!”

Ice immediately perked up, glancing at her phone screen and smirking. “Azzi! Boo! Why didn’t you come with us?” she said, dragging out the words in mock disappointment.

“Lame,” KK added, her voice loud and dramatic. “BOOOOO!”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, you’re boring, Az. Can’t even show up for cookies?”

Kehlani stayed quiet in the backseat, but her eyes flicked toward Paige, noting the way her tone softened just slightly when she said Azzi’s name.

A moment later, a new comment popped up on the live. Azzi’s verification checkmark made her words stand out, and Ice read them out loud: “I’m not boring, Paige.”

Paige laughed, her eyes lighting up as she leaned closer to Ice’s phone. “Sure you’re not. What’re you doing right now, then?”

KK nudged Ice whispering. “She really out here having a one-on-one convo like the rest of us don’t exist.”

Ice snorted, but Paige ignored them, waiting for Azzi’s next reply. It didn’t take long.

“Just laying down,” Azzi wrote in the chat.

Paige grinned, shaking her head. “See? BORING. What’d I say?”

Another comment quickly popped up: “I’m recovering from practice, Paige. Some of us are human and don’t have unlimited energy.”

“Excuses,” Paige shot back, laughing. “I think you just wanted to miss out on all the good cookies. KK, pass me the Snickerdoodle.”

KK handed Paige the cookie but pointed dramatically at the screen. “Azzi, if you’re seeing this, they’re roasting you in the comments, too. One of them just said, ‘Azzi’s too cool to eat cookies with them.”

Paige tilted her head, reading another comment that Azzi wrote. “I’m not too cool for cookies. But Paige never saves me any, so why bother?”

The live erupted in “oohs” from the chat, and Paige’s jaw dropped. “First of all, I always save you something.”

Azzi’s response popped up almost immediately. “Lies. Where’s my cookie, then?”

Paige rolled her eyes, smirking. “I’ll bring you a cookie later. You’re lucky I’m nice.”

“Only to me,” Azzi wrote.

Ice and KK exchanged a knowing look, both laughing under their breath. Ice leaned forward, resting her elbow on the center console. “Yo, she’s bold for that one.”

KK smirked. “I think they forget this isn’t a private conversation.”

Meanwhile, Kehlani had fully reclined in her seat, scrolling through her phone and making no attempt to engage.

Paige read the comment aloud, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “That’s ‘cause you are my favorite person, Az.” Her voice carried that teasing, flirty tone she didn’t bother hiding anymore.

The live chat immediately blew up:

“PAIGE WHAT?!”

“She really said it!”

“This is the content we needed!”

Azzi’s response came almost instantly. “Your favorite person? Then why am I at home while you’re out eating cookies without me?”

Paige laughed, breaking off a piece of the S’mores cookie. “This is for you, Azzi. See?” She held it up to Ice’s phone, angling the camera toward it. “Consider yourself taken care of now.”

KK leaned in dramatically, her mouth hovering near the cookie. “I’m about to eat this for her since she didn’t show up.”

Azzi’s reply was short and direct: “KK, touch it and see what happens.”

Ice practically wheezed, clutching her chest. “Not her threatening people in the live chat.”

Paige tilted her head at the camera, grinning as she scrolled to Azzi’s next message before responding out loud. “Then what do you call this?”

Azzi popped back into the chat: “It’s called keeping people in line for you. You’re welcome.”

Paige shook her head, laughing softly. “See, that’s why you’re my favorite.” Her voice dipped slightly, playful but with an undertone that made KK and Ice share another quick glance.

Azzi replied almost immediately: “Say it louder for the people in the back.” The double not lost on Paige.

Paige leaned a little closer to the camera, her grin widening. “Azzi’s my favorite,” she said, dragging out the words in a teasing tone. “Happy now?”

KK threw her hands up. “Alright, we get it! Paige is Azzi’s biggest fan. Moving on…”

But Paige wasn’t done, and neither was Azzi. The next message from Azzi caught Paige off guard: “You should tell me how much you like me later. Maybe in detail.”

Paige’s eyes flicked down at the screen, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. “Oh, you want details now?” she said, leaning into the moment. “Like what? Should I write it all down for you?”

Ice and KK immediately burst into laughter, KK pointing at the screen. “Bro, Azzi’s got you blushing on live. This going to be everywhere.”

Paige ignored them, her attention locked on the next comment Azzi sent: “I don’t need it written down. You can just show me.”

Her breath hitched for a moment, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from fully smiling. “Az, we’re on live. Not FaceTime. Chill.”

The chat went into full chaos mode:

“SHOW HER WHAT???”

“Azzi please, we can’t take this!”

“Paige is GONE.”

KK was practically in tears now.

Paige groaned dramatically, finally tearing her eyes away from the screen. “Azzi, I swear. You’re banned from the next live. You’re worse than Ice.”

Azzi’s last comment appeared on the screen: “You love it.”

Paige chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “Alright, next cookie,” she announced, trying to change the subject. But her cheeks were still tinged pink, and the chat wasn’t letting it go anytime soon.

Paige chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “Alright, next cookie,” she announced, trying to change the subject. But her cheeks were still tinged pink, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Azzi popped back up in the chat: “You’re cute when you blush, P.”

Paige immediately groaned, her face heating up even more. “Azzi, pleaseee,” she said, unable to hide her smile as she glanced at the screen again.

The chat exploded with chaos:

“AZZI STOP, YOU’RE KILLING US.”

“Ole girl in the back is mad.”

“Just kiss already.”

Azzi wasn’t about to let up as another comment popped up. “Only if you come over later,” she wrote.

Paige shook her head, biting her lip to keep from smiling too much. “Azzi, you’re actually the worst,” she replied, but her tone betrayed how much she was enjoying it.

KK chimed in, pointing at the screen. “I don’t know if you're seeing it but they saying you’re on a leash, P boogers.”

Azzi replied: “You don’t seem to mind when I’m ‘the worst.’”

Paige blinked at the screen not even addressing KK, her laugh low. “Azzi…” she warned, but there was no real threat behind it.

Azzi replied back: “What? Just telling the truth. You like me this way.”

Paige leaned back in her seat, covering her face with one hand, fully laughing now. “You’re unbelievable,” she said through her laughter.

Ice, who had been watching this unfold with growing amusement, nudged Paige’s arm. “You gotta fight back, you’re looking weak on live.”

Paige glanced at Ice, shaking her head, but her smile stayed. She turned back to the camera. “I’m not even entertaining her anymore,” she said, though her blushing cheeks said otherwise.

Azzi’s next message popped up: “Yeah, you will. Later.”

Paige pressed her lips together, struggling not to laugh again, but her blush deepened. Before she could respond, Kehlani, sitting quietly in the back, spoke up, her tone dry and serious. “Oh, why stop now? You might as well just FaceTime her at this point. We’re all here for the show anyway.”

The air in the car shifted. Ice and KK exchanged glances, but the laughter that had been flowing just moments ago came to a halt. Kehlani’s words hung in the air, her eyes fixed on her phone as she spoke.

Paige’s smile faltered slightly, sensing the tension in Kehlani’s voice. She quickly shifted in her seat, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Kehlani, relax,” Paige said softly, but the underlying unease in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.

Azzi’s final comment popped up in the chat: “Just don’t forget my cookie please.”

The chat exploded again, but the playful vibe was gone now. Paige let out a soft laugh at Azzi’s humor, her blush still lingering, but the mood had shifted. “Alright, new flavor, let’s go,” she announced loudly, trying to shift the focus as the car fell into a quieter tension.

…

When the live ended, Kehlani didn’t hold back. She leaned forward in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Paige through the rearview mirror. “So you’re just openly flirting with her now?”

Paige’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles white as she kept her eyes on the road. KK and Ice sat frozen in their seats struggling not to laugh knowing how this was going to end. Paige didn’t want to have this conversation—not here, not now, and definitely not with an audience.

Taking a steadying breath, Paige glanced at the mirror, careful not to meet Kehlani’s gaze. “We can talk about this when we get back,” she said calmly.

Kehlani scoffed, throwing herself back against the seat and crossing her arms tightly over her chest like a child. “Oh, it'll be a lot more yelling than fucking talking,” she muttered, her voice sharp.

Paige’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking as she clenched her teeth. She didn’t take her eyes off the road but finally responded, her voice laced with warning. “What did I tell you about doing this in front of people?”

Kehlani let out a bitter laugh, her head tilting slightly as she gestured vaguely toward the car. “Oh, but you can flirt with Azzi in front of three thousand people, huh? That’s perfectly fine?”

Paige’s gaze snapped up to meet Kehlani’s through the rearview mirror, her expression hard. “Stop,” she said simply.

For a moment, Kehlani opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, but the sharp look Paige gave her was enough to make her think twice. She pressed her lips together, the silence in the car growing even more as they continued the drive.

When they returned to campus, Paige immediately headed to her room, hoping to avoid any more conflict. Kehlani followed, slamming the door behind her as she stormed in. The tension between them was thick, the unspoken frustration that had been building for days now ready to spill over.

Kehlani didn't waste any time. “If you want to fuck her, just get it over with so you can get it out of your system,” she snapped, her voice filled with bitterness. Paige’s expression immediately hardened. She had been holding her tongue but had so much pent up frustration she didn’t care anymore.

Paige turned to face her, her eyes narrowing. “Watch your fucking mouth Kehlani,” she said, her voice low and full of warning.

Kehlani sneered, crossing her arms. “Oh, so you have a reaction now? I just have to say something about Azzi to get you to finally react, huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes, exasperated. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m not doing this with you.”

Kehlani scoffed, pacing in frustration. “You’re seriously just gonna keep playing it off? Like nothing’s happening between you two? How long do you think you can keep this up before it blows up in your face?”

Paige stayed leaned against her desk, arms crossed over her chest. Her voice was calm when she replied, “Look, I’ve been upfront with you from the beginning. If you want to walk away, do it. I’m not forcing you to stay. I told you from the start this was casual.”

Kehlani whipped around to face her, her tone sharp. “It’s not even casual anymore, Paige. At least back then we’d fuck or something after we argued!”

Paige let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Is that what this is about? We don’t fuck anymore?”

Kehlani's jaw tightened, her voice rising with indignation. “Do you even know when the last time we were together was?”

Paige shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by the question. “Nope. But I’m sure you're going to enlighten me.”

Kehlani stepped closer, her eyes flashing with irritation. “It was after the team went out drinking,” she snapped. “You and Azzi were all over each other all night because you were drunk. And you didn’t even care who saw.”

Paige raised her brows slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

Kehlani stepped closer, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and frustration. “We argued about it when we got back, and you wanted to shut me up, so you fucked me. That’s the last time, Paige. Do you even care?”

Paige groaned, rubbing her temples. “Lani, I don’t even know what you want me to say right now.”

Kehlani's voice sharpened. “Are you getting it from her now? Is that why?”

Paige let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I’m not fucking Azzi! Jesus Christ!”

Kehlani let out a bitter laugh. “Stop being a coward and admit you want to at least. Just say it.”

Paige froze for a moment, her patience finally snapping. She straightened up, her eyes locking with Kehlani’s. “Alright. Fine. I wanna fuck Azzi. Is that what you wanna hear?”

Kehlani blinked, momentarily stunned but unwilling to back down. “Say it again, Paige. Say it like you fucking mean it.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re fucking crashing right now bro.”

But Kehlani stood firm like she always does, crossing her arms. “No, Paige. Say it. Don’t half-ass it. I want to hear you say it.”

Paige’s frustration boiled over, and her voice rose as she snapped. “Yes, I want to fuck Azzi! I want to fuck her every time I look at her!”

Kehlani raised an eyebrow, unmoved. “Keep going.”

“What?” Paige snapped, incredulous.

“You’ve been a coward this whole time. You finally grew a spine—don’t stop now. Keep going. What else?” Kehlani’s voice dripped with venom.

Paige leaned forward, her voice escalating, almost shouting now as she spoke her mind but wanted to shut Kehlani up in the process. “I think about doing the nastiest shit you can imagine to her, okay? Is that what you’re deranged ass wanted to hear? Is that good enough for you now?”

Kehlani smirked, clapping her hands together slowly, the sound cutting through the tension. “Fucking finally. There it is. At least now we’re finally being honest.”

Paige glared at her. “Fuck you, Kehlani,” she spat.

Kehlani snorted, shaking her head as she turned toward the door. “Nah, Paige. You’re saving that for Azzi, right?”

Ironically, as the words left her mouth, the door swung open, and Azzi walked in, her eyebrows furrowing at the scene in front of her.

Kehlani chuckled darkly, shaking her head as if the situation was some cruel joke she was in on.

Azzi’s gaze bounced between the two of them, her tone cautious as she took in Paige’s demeanor. “Uh... should I go P?”

Paige’s entire demeanor shifted the second she saw Azzi, the hard edges of her anger softening, though her tension was still noticeable. “No, Az,” she said quietly, her voice noticeably softer. “It’s fine. We’re done.”

Kehlani scoffed, her laugh sharp and bitter. “Oh no we’re not done, but you should stay,” she said, gesturing to the room. “Come enjoy the show. Paige was just telling me all about how much she thinks about fucking you. Weren’t you, Paige?”

Azzi didn’t flinch. Her expression tightened as she looked at Kehlani, but there was no shock in her eyes.

Paige didn’t say anything, her jaw tightening.

Kehlani wasn’t done, stepping closer, her arms crossed as her voice dripped with sarcasm. “What? Too shy to say it now? You weren’t shy five minutes ago. Go ahead, Paige. Tell her.”

Paige’s eyes darkened as her patience snapped. “Kehlani, shut the fuck up.”

Kehlani laughed coldly, tilting her head. “What, you can’t tell her? Can’t tell her how you were just talking about all the nasty shit you want to do to her? Go on, Paige. Please don’t stop now.”

Paige took a step forward, her voice low. “We’re done, Kehlani. Get the hell out.”

Kehlani stared at her for a moment, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips before she turned to Azzi. “Just a warning,” she said, her voice light but toxic. “She gets a little rough when she’s upset.”

With that, she walked out, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving an almost deafening silence in her wake.

Azzi stayed rooted in place, her eyes locked on Paige, who was visibly trying to hold herself together, her shoulders tense and her jaw clenched. Azzi’s brow furrowed in concern as she cautiously stepped closer. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Paige’s hand as if to ground her. “Paige,” she said gently, “Talk to me. What’s going on in your head right now?”

Paige took a deep breath, the sound shaky as she stared at the floor for a moment. Then she met Azzi’s gaze, her eyes were dark with a look Azzi hadn’t seen before. “Az, you need to leave,” Paige said, her voice low and rough. “If you don’t, I’m going to do something we’ll regret.”

It wasn’t a plea; it was a warning.

The air between them grew heavier, the tension almost suffocating. Paige’s frustration and anger were palpable—every argument with Kehlani, every unresolved feeling about Azzi, every ounce of sexual tension she’d been bottling up for weeks—it all felt like it was seconds away from exploding. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe.

But Azzi didn’t step back. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “Do it then,” she said softly, her voice carrying a challenge she hadn’t fully thought through.

The second the words left her mouth, Azzi realized she should’ve thought about it a little more.

But Paige’s reaction was immediate, almost primal. Her hand shot up, wrapping firmly around Azzi’s neck as she pushed her back against the wall with a force that sent a picture frame rattling. Azzi gasped softly, her wide eyes searching Paige’s for a split second before Paige leaned in, her lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was rough, hungry, and completely consuming.

Azzi’s initial surprise melted into something deeper, her body responding instinctively as her hands grabbed at Paige’s waist, pulling her closer. Paige’s grip on Azzi’s neck tightened as she deepened the kiss, her desire building as she couldn’t get enough of Azzi. Each brush of their lips, each shift in their embrace sent a pulse of heat through Paige’s body. She was losing herself in the moment, in the touch, in the taste of Azzi.

The kiss wasn’t gentle or careful—it was unapologetically passionate. It was everything they had been holding back for years, all the longing, all the frustration, all the stolen moments finally manifesting. Azzi could feel Paige’s hunger, the intensity in every movement. She could feel Paige’s breath against her skin, could feel the heat in her hand as it gripped her neck, holding her in place with a possessive energy that sent shivers down Azzi’s spine.

Azzi’s hands squeezed Paige’s hips, urging her closer, pulling her against the heat of her body. She loved the way Paige’s fingers tightened around her neck, the way Paige’s body moved against hers with a sense of urgency, as though they were both starving. The aggression, the way Paige was pushing her into the wall—it felt exhilarating, freeing. Azzi had always known Paige had it in her, but now that it was happening, she could hardly believe it.

The world outside the room, outside this moment, ceased to exist. It was just them. Paige’s hand, warm and possessive around her neck, the way she kissed Azzi like she was afraid she might disappear if she didn’t hold on tight enough—Azzi was completely intoxicated by it. She wanted more, needed more, and with every passing second she was reminded that this was everything they’d been denying for so long.

Paige’s breath hitched as she pulled Azzi’s hair roughly, exposing more of her neck. Azzi gasped at the feeling, a mix of surprise and excitement flashing in her eyes. Paige’s grip tightened on Azzi’s hair, pushing her head back more as she traced her lips down the sensitive skin of Azzi’s neck.

Paige's lips were messy, marking every inch of her neck. She could feel the heat radiating off Azzi’s body as she kissed her harder, deeper, moving against her with an intensity neither of them had expected for their first time. When she pulled back for a moment, her voice was rough, the question slipping out without a second thought.

“You aren’t cheating, right?” Paige asked.

Azzi nodded quickly, her hands grabbing at Paige’s, urging her back to her neck. “No," she whispered, "I’m not.”

Azzi’s words were barely heard before Paige tugged harder on her hair, guiding her back, her lips attacking Azzi’s neck again. Paige’s hands gripped Azzi’s body tighter, not letting go, as if marking every inch of her skin as her own.

Azzi melted into it, her body arching toward Paige’s, having craved the roughness for so long, the need that was building between them.

Before Azzi could even process what was happening, Paige’s hands were at the back of her thighs, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. The strength in Paige’s grip made Azzi's heart race, and she couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride that Paige’s athleticism was coming into play at the moment. She wrapped her legs around Paige’s waist instinctively, pulling her closer, the kiss deepening as Paige’s hands roamed over her butt with desperation.

Azzi could feel everything building, the need between them undeniable. Paige didn’t pause, didn't even hesitate, as she walked them over to the desk. Azzi’s breath hitched when she felt the edge of the desk press against the backs of her thighs, and Paige, without breaking the kiss, placed her gently yet firmly on top of it knocking a few things over as she did so.

Azzi gasped, her hands grabbing at Paige’s shoulders to steady herself. She didn’t know what was more exciting—the feeling of Paige’s body pressed against hers, the heat radiating between them, or the way she was being handled.

Paige pulled back slightly, her gaze dark, filled with an intensity Azzi had never witnessed before. Azzi was breathless, her body humming, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she looked up at Paige, waiting for whatever came next.

Paige’s eyes never left Azzi’s as she spoke. “Take off your shirt.”

There was something in the way Paige said it—something possessive and undeniably intense—that made Azzi swallow hard. She felt the weight of the command settle into her chest, her heart hammering in her ears as her breath caught.

Without hesitation, Azzi pulled her shirt over her head, feeling a shiver run through her as she caught Paige’s gaze, the hunger in her usual soft blue eyes making her pulse quicken. Azzi knew it was different now. This wasn’t the teasing, the slow build-up. This was something primal and she was willingly volunteering herself for it.

She let the fabric fall to the floor, her hands shaking slightly but not from fear—more from the anticipation. Every muscle in her body was tuned to Paige, waiting for her next move, her next command. In that moment, she didn’t want anything more than to be exactly what Paige wanted.

Paige's hands moved quickly, pulling Azzi's hips forward just enough so she could stand between her legs, their bodies barely apart but still aching for more.

Without warning, Paige grabbed Azzi by the neck, her grip firm, pulling her into another kiss that was desperate and unrestrained. The urgency in the kiss was undeniable, a silent plea for release as Paige's body pressed into Azzi's. Paige was fighting to control herself, to not be aggressive as she could be, but the tension inside her was too much-every muscle, every nerve, was on fire with the need to close the gap between them.

Her lips moved hungrily against Azzi's, breathing in the taste of her like it was the only thing that could calm the desperate ache inside. Paige's hands gripped Azzi's sides, her fingers digging in as if she might never let go, as if this moment was the only thing that mattered. Their breaths mingled, heavy and fast, as Paige pressed closer, her chest brushing against Azzi's, the heat between them only amplifying the intensity of the kiss.

Azzi's hands slid to the back of Paige's neck, pulling her deeper, her body arching toward Paige's.

Paige yanked Azzi's head back again, her grip tight as she started to assault Azzi’s neck again. The raw tension between them was undeniable. But then, Azzi let out a soft moan at the feeling, a sound that was so sudden, so unfiltered, that it stopped Paige in her tracks.

It wasn't just a sound. It was a plea, a release that vibrated through the space between them, and when it escaped Azzi's lips, it shattered Paige's control. The way it rang in the air, the desperate vulnerability in it. Paige's jaw tightened, her whole body going rigid.

She pulled back quickly, struggling to catch her breath. Paige clenched her jaw desperately trying to hold on to whatever semblance of self control she had left. But she was failing. Without a word, she turned away, her steps almost urgent as she walked toward the closet.

"Take everything off," Paige's voice was rough.

Paige reached into the closet, her fingers brushing over a few bags, before pulling out a sealed box that she began taking to plastic off of.

Azzi didn't hesitate. She undressed quickly, following Paige's command without a second thought. Every movement was fluid, driven by a mix of anticipation and the sharp heat that still pulsed between them.

As soon as she was bare, she walked over to the desk, sitting back on it, the cool surface pressing against her skin, contrasting with the heat radiating off of her.

She watched Paige intently, her eyes tracing every movement as Paige got completely undressed before stepping into a harness and adjusting it.

Paige's every action was deliberate, her fingers brushing against the fabric, pulling at it slowly to make sure everything was in place as her eyes raked over Azzi’s body as she did it.

Something about the sight has more pooling between Azzi’s legs. Paige is scarily calm right now which terrifies and excites Azzi at the same time.

As Paige walked toward Azzi slowly, her gaze never left brown eyes. When she reached her, she leaned in just enough to let her voice drop low. "You wanna feel me, Az?" Her words were a tease, full of promise, and the way they hung in the air made Azzi's heart skip.

Azzi nodded, almost too quickly, her throat suddenly dry. She didn't trust herself to speak—her body ached with a need for Paige and Paige only.

Paige's lips curved into a smile as she reached up, brushing her thumb across Azzi's lip. The touch was soft and gentle, yet somehow possessive, and without thinking, Azzi parted her lips and took it into her mouth.

She sucked it in slowly, her eyes never leaving Paige's as she swirled her tongue, feeling the heat of Paige's gaze searing her skin.

Paige watched her intently, savoring the sight, before sliding her thumb out of Azzi's mouth. She dragged it slowly down her jaw, the pads of her fingers tracing lightly across her skin before finally resting at Azzis center where she began to trace small agonizingly slow circles against Azzi.

Azzi's breath hitched, her jaw tightening as the circles only further deepened the ache in her stomach. Each movement, each second that passed, stretched the tension unbearably, the pressure building in her chest. The way Paige took her time, making every second feel like an eternity, had Azzi biting down on her lip to keep from reacting too loudly.

Paige's thumb circled lazily along Azzi's center, her touch soft. She was watching closely for every little reaction: the sharp, ragged inhale, the subtle tremor in Azzi's body, the way her lips would part as she tried to hold in the sounds threatening to slip out. Each moment, each subtle movement, felt like an eternity as she pieced together what Azzi loved like it was the easiest puzzle in the world.

Azzi's breath caught as Paige pushed against her a little harder, her eyes fluttering closed involuntarily. Paige's eyes darkened as she saw the way Azzi tried to bite down harder, a silent battle the girl was having to remain quiet for some reason. Paige couldn't help but chuckle a little at this.

"You know it's not going to matter in a few minutes, right?" Paige's voice was calm as she said it, but there was a bit of an edge to it, a silent promise to Azzi that she wouldn’t be able to stay quiet even if she tried. Still, she continued her slow, torturous circles, watching for the breaking point.

Azzi opened her glossed over eyes, meeting Paige's gaze. Her voice was barely a whisper, but there was a challenge to it. "You like to hear it?"

Paige nodded, her breath shallow. "Of course." The simple words hung in the air, full of desire.

It was as if Azzi had been holding her breath, saving it for this exact moment. Not two seconds later, the sound escaped her lips-a soft, almost angelic moan. The sound was almost too beautiful for how quiet it was.

It was enough for Paige to not want to wait anymore wanting to hear so much more spill from Azzi’s lips.

So she swipes the top of the strap against Azzi a few times to make sure she’s ready for it before she’s pressing forward, sliding in halfway before pausing to make sure she’s ok and giving her some time to adjust.

“Oh fuck-“ Azzi immediately gasps at the feeling pulling Paige’s closer to her by her shoulders.

Leaning over her a little now Paige begins slowly rolling her hips careful not to go in all the way yet.

Paige mumbles against Azzi’s neck where she’s planting kisses and sucking on the already marked skin. “Does that feel good pretty?” As Paige says this her fingers tangle in Azzi’s hair tugging at it to expose more of her neck as she continues working in and out of her.

“Mhmm yes—feels…feels so fucking good. Oh fuck.” Azzi’s face twists slightly as Paige pushes all the way in hitting somewhere deep in her stomach.

Paige reaches down with her free hand to rub circles against Azzi again as she picks up the pace of her hips.

With every movement, Azzi whimpers. The breathy noises music to Paige’s ears, urging her on. Paige pushes Azzi’s legs further apart, eventually making her wrap her legs around her waist as the new position allows her to work deeper into Azzi.

Azzi who’s never felt anything like this whimpers out “Fuck yes…gimme more Paige…harder please baby” her moans getting louder as she grasps at the shelf behind her trying to find anything to anchor herself.

Paige immediately obliges to the request grabbing Azzi’s waist pulling her into her more as she works in and out of her at a faster pace.

Azzi smiles at this for a second before her jaw drops as she fights to keep her eyes locked on Paige.

Paige feels like she can come undone just by the look on Azzi’s face. The way her brown eyes are locked on Paige’s blue ones, struggling to keep her breath makes Paige fall in love with her all over again.

Paige moves herself closer to Azzi so she can whisper in her ear. “Mhm you so fucking pretty taking it like this baby...you like it when I fuck you like this Azzi?”

"Yes- fuck... Yes I love it so much—" Azzi’s arms wrap around Paige’s shoulders, her nails digging into her pale skin as the blonde moves into her at an unreasonable pace making her see stars.

Paige groans at the feeling of Azzi’s nails digging into her as she rests her forehead on her shoulder.

Azzi continues gasping, her breathing sharp as she tightens her hold on Paige anchoring herself to something real. Her chest rising and falling in quick succession, pulse hammering in her ears, drowning out everything but the feeling of Paige inside her.

"Shit…I've wanted this for so long," Azzi whispered, her voice trembling.

Paige pulled back from Azzi’s shoulder to rest their foreheads together. Their breaths mingled, hot and unsteady, as they locked eyes, both panting at Paige’s movements.

Paige's lips curled into a slow smile, her voice low and a little breathy, laced with a possessiveness that makes Azzi weak. "Tell me what you mean, baby."

Azzi's heart fluttered at the sound of Paige’s voice. Her entire body seemed to hum with the weight of the question. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the fragments of herself, feeling her body continue to pulse at Paige who hasn’t slowed down for a second. Her hands move to Paige's face, fingers trembling as they cup her jaw, bringing her closer, as if she couldn't get enough of the warmth, of the weight of Paige's presence.

"I've wanted you to fuck me just like this," Azzi panted, the words spilling out in a rush. “Touched myself thinking about how you would feel.” Her grip tightened, nails gently grazing Paige's skin who has slowed her movements easing all of it in and out at a steady pace.

Paige's smile deepened as she looked at Azzi, her voice dripping with something almost dangerous, like she knew exactly what Azzi needed. "It's all mine, baby?" Her lips barely moved as she whispered them.

Azzi's breath hitched, her whole body answering the question before her words could as she felt something pool on the desk under her.

She nodded, forehead pressing against Paige's, her eyes rolling back as she gave in to the overwhelming flood of emotions.

"Use your words for me, baby," Paige murmured, a soft pressure against Azzi's jaw, urging her, coaxing the confession out.

Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming in her throat, before she finally gave in to the truth of it all, letting it tumble out in a breathless confession. "It's yours, Paige. Fuck yes, it's all yours baby."

Azzi's hands are steady on Paige's face, her fingers tracing the soft line of her jaw. The heat radiating between them is undeniable now, but it's not just physical-it's everything they've been holding back. Azzi’s legs are still wrapped around Paige’s waist, their bodies pressed together, the only space between them the shared breaths that are only becoming more ragged.

The world outside them has faded completely. All that's left is the sound of their hearts racing, the intensity of their eyes locked in a silent battle. But Azzi can feel it. She can feel Paige's jaw tighten under her fingers, feel Paige's slight hesitation to speak.

"Say it, baby," Azzi breathes out, voice rough, pleading. The words hang between them, as she dares Paige to cross the line they've been dancing around for so long. The unspoken truth that neither has allowed themselves to fully acknowledge-until now.

Paige's jaw tightens more, her mind fighting against the pull of the confession. She knows, deep down, that once she says the words, there's no taking them back. No turning away from what it means. Her eyes search Azzi's, a mix of fear, longing, and something else-something so much deeper. Azzi's brown eyes are full of hope, desperation, and a promise.

Azzi leans in closer, her breath catching in her throat. "Please... Paige..." she whimpers, as though the words might shatter if she says them too loud. "Say it. Please. I need to hear it baby.”

For a heartbeat, Paige hesitates. But having Azzi like this completely bare for her taking everything she’s giving her makes something stir in Paige. The fear, the uncertainty, melts away. She licks her lips slowly, never breaking Azzi's gaze, and the words come out like a release, a truth finally allowed to breathe.

"I love you, Azzi," Paige whispers, keeping her voice low. "I fucking love you." Paige says again as she rolls her hips into Azzi perfectly. The words feel almost foreign on her tongue, but they taste right. They feel like everything she's been holding back for so long, all the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the touch that said more than words ever could.

Azzi's breath hitches, her eyes going wide not just from the feeling of Paige hitting deep inside of her but from hearing those words fall from her lips for the first time the combination of them both leaving her breathless.

She can barely hold back the rush of emotion that crashes over her. "I love you so fucking much, Paige," she murmurs, her voice breaking on the edge of the confession. It's everything she's wanted to say to Paige since they were teenagers.

Azzi's fingers trace Paige's face gently, her heart pounding as if it might burst from her chest. "I love you," she whispers again, this time, the words are like a devotion to Paige.

Paige presses her forehead to Azzi's, her lips just inches away, her breath mingling with Azzi's. She could lose herself in this moment forever. "I love you so much Azzi," she breathes, her voice full of everything she's kept locked away.

Paige can feel herself building at Azzi’s words, the weight of the moment, the way the harness was rubbing against her. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this turned on before, she’s never felt this pull in her stomach from just fucking somebody else.

Before Paige embarrassingly comes undone before Azzi she’s pulling out completely causing Azzi to immediately whine at the feeling as she looks up at Paige with desperation.

Paige didn’t give Azzi a chance to say anything before she was lifting her off the desk.

Without missing a beat, Paige walks over and gently lays Azzi down on her back on the bed hovering over her as she locks eyes with her.

Paige whispers out. “Wanna feel all of you when you finish for me.”

Azzi hums at this, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at Paige. Her fingers threading through Paige’s messy hair.

Without saying anything Paige presses back inside of Azzi completely making her arch off of the bed letting out an almost pornographic sound. Paige leans down pressing sloppy kisses to Azzi’s chest leaving new marks further down as she starts rolling her hips into her again.

Azzi’s mouth falls open at the feeling, her body picking up right where it left off a few seconds ago. Paige’s eyes hold Azzi’s as she wraps her hand around her throat again squeezing just tight enough causing a whimper to fall from Azzi as she flutters her eyes closed at the way Paige is controlling the situation.

Not liking that she can’t see Azzi’s eyes anymore Paige whispers out “Look at me Azzi baby.”

Azzi's eyes immediately flutter open, the command in Paige's voice making her head spin. Her gaze locks onto Paige's, but her vision is hazy, her eyes watering at the spot Paige is hitting over and over.

Paige smiles, it’s a knowing grin, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to Azzi and she shakes her head as if to tell Azzi it's not time to break yet.

"No, not yet sweetheart," Paige murmurs, her fingers tightened against Azzi's throat like a warning.

Azzi's throat tightens as she tries to speak to break the tension, but her voice falters.

She shifts beneath Paige, her head trying to turn to the side, desperate for some escape from the intensity of the moment. But before she can move too far Paige tightens her hold to keep her in place.

"Don’t look away from me when i’m talking to you Azzi” Paige's voice is calm, but there's an edge to it now, making Azzi's breath hitch in her throat as she nods.

At this Paige takes her hand off of Azzi throat and moves it down to her stomach where she presses down slightly feeling every thrust.

Azzi immediately moans at the pressure as she locks her ankles around Paige’s back not allowing any room between them.

"Mm- fuck, Paige. I’m so close. Don’t stop…please, don't stop just like that." Words are just tumbling out of Azzi now as she wraps her arms around Paige’s shoulder holding her against her completely as Paige picks up her pace to something almost ruthless.

Azzi’s hand immediately tangles in her hair trying to pull Paige closer as she sucks on her pressure point.

Paige brings her hand up, carefully interlocking it with one of Azzi's that isn’t tangled in her hair, her breath warm against Azzi's neck as she mumbles, "I'm so close, baby." Azzi nods in response not able to form a words, her legs tightening around Paige's waist, pulling her even closer.

All that leaves Azzi’s lips are whimpers and moans as Paige moves into her. Paige keeps her pace until Azzi’s body starts to tremble under her and she feels the movements get a little harder as Azzi tightens.

“Ohmygodohmygod…fuck..fuck” Azzi screams her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair as she releases all over the sheets. Paige squeezes their interlaced hands as she keeps moving, still chasing her own release, mumbling out, “Hold on baby I’m right there.”

Despite her sensitivity Azzi presses her heels into Paige’s back pulling her closer and not long after Paige is groaning out a “oh shit..fuck Az..fuckfuck” before she’s slumping on top of Azzi.

The room is filled with the sound of their breathing, both of them lying there, skin still warm and sticky, bodies tangled together in the aftermath. For a moment, neither of them moved, as if both of them were trying to process the intensity of what had just happened. It was different, undeniably so. Different than any other time with anyone else. This wasn’t just physical.

After some time of laying there, Paige shifted slightly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s shoulder. “Imma pull out now, okay?” she murmured, her voice soft and low.

Azzi’s hands shot up to grab Paige’s shoulders, halting her immediately. Paige froze, lifting her head to meet Azzi’s gaze. There was something almost pleading in her eyes, a vulnerability Paige hadn’t seen before.

“Not yet,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Paige smiles as she gazes down at her. “Can you keep going?” she asked, her tone laced with both amusement and awe.

Azzi nodded, her breath catching as her hands slid down Paige’s back. “Yeah,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing. “I just... I don’t want this to end yet.”

Paige chuckled softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Azzi’s lips. “You’re something else, Az,” she said against her mouth, her voice warm.

Azzi smirked faintly, her hands curling into Paige’s skin. “Yeah, and you love it,” she shot back, though her voice trembled slightly when Paige adjusted her hips.

Paige didn’t deny it. Instead, she shifted, one of her hands trailing slowly down Azzi’s side. “Alright,” Paige murmured, her lips grazing Azzi’s jaw before trailing down to her neck again. “Guess I better make it worth your while.”

Azzi’s laugh turned into a quiet gasp as Paige started to move again, her hands gripping Azzi's hips as she eased her back into it. But then Azzi couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped her, the sound muffled behind her hand. Paige paused slightly, raising a brow.

“What’s funny?” Paige asked, her voice low, breath still hot against Azzi’s neck.

Azzi shook her head, though the grin on her face betrayed her amusement. “It’s just—” she laughed softly again, tilting her head back slightly to meet Paige’s curious eyes. “Your cross necklace. It’s just... dangling there. Right in my face.”

Paige looked down and noticed the small silver cross swaying between them. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. “Yeah, that’s probably not the vibe right now,” she muttered.

Azzi smirked, clearly enjoying the irony. “It’s definitely a choice,” she teased, her breath hitching as Paige’s fingers tightened against her skin.

“Alright,” Paige said, grinning as she moved her hand to Azzi’s chin, tilting her head slightly. “How about I fix that for you?”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige pulled out and flipped her over with an effortless motion, Azzi’s stomach now against the bed. Paige hovered over her, her cross now out of Azzi’s sight. Paige leaned down, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear. “Better?”

Azzi swallowed hard, her smirk faltering as Paige’s hand slid back to her waist. “Yeah,” she breathed, her voice suddenly softer. “Much better.”

Paige chuckled, her lips trailing slowly down Azzi’s jaw. “Good,” she murmured. “Now stop laughing and focus, Az.”

Azzi smiled faintly, but her next laugh dissolved into a sharp inhale as Paige reminded her exactly what kind of focus she meant.

…

Later that night, Paige and Azzi lay side by side, their shoulders brushing, hands intertwined as the quiet of the room settled around them. The adrenaline had long worn off, leaving them in a haze of warmth and exhaustion.

Azzi let out a soft laugh, her thumb brushing over the back of Paige’s hand. “I need a shower,” she murmured, breaking the silence.

Paige’s eyes were half-closed, her voice barely above a mumble as she replied, “Same.”

Azzi turned her head slightly, glancing at Paige with a teasing smile. “You’re actually disgusting,” she joked.

Paige cracked one eye open, the corner of her mouth twitching into a lazy grin. “You loved it,” she fired back, her voice low and raspy but filled with clear amusement.

Azzi laughed again. “Unfortunately,” she said, shaking her head dramatically, “you might be right.”

Paige gave a low chuckle, squeezing Azzi’s hand gently. “Might be? C’mon, Az. Own it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. I loved it. Happy?”

“Very,” Paige murmured, her voice already trailing off into something quieter as her head tilted toward Azzi’s.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable, the warmth of their connection lingering in the air. Paige stared up at the ceiling, her breathing finally even as her thumb absently traced circles against the back of Azzi’s hand.

“Wait,” Paige started, her voice soft but curious. “What happened to Kali?”

Azzi, who was half-drifting into sleep, let out a quiet laugh. “She was sitting next to me when you were on live,” she said simply, her tone amused.

Paige chuckled, shaking her head as she glanced over at Azzi. “Yeah, that tracks.”

Azzi gave Paige’s hand another squeeze, her voice softer now, as though she didn’t want to disturb the moment too much. “So?” she asked, her words a quiet nudge, a question hanging between them.

Paige turned her head to look at her, her expression calm. “So,” she echoed, meeting Azzi’s eyes. “I love you, and you love me.” She paused, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “So… we’re going to do this?”

Azzi studied her for a beat, her own smile forming slowly but surely. She nodded, her gaze steady. “Yeah, I think we are.”

Paige’s lips curved fully now, her hand tightening slightly around Azzi’s. “Yeah. I think so too.”

Azzi’s smile grew wider at that, something soft and unspoken passing between them as she shifted a little closer, her shoulder brushing Paige’s. “Good,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

…

When Paige and Azzi finally mustered the energy to get up and head to the shower, they didn’t expect to be greeted by half the team. Unfortunately for them, the door opened just as KK, Aubrey, and Jana barged in, looking for snacks or whatever excuse they’d come up with to snoop once Paige and Azzi gave signs of life in the team group chat suspiciously at the same time.

The room fell silent for a split second before KK’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Girl, boo! Y’all were supposed to wait one more week!” she yelled, throwing her hands up like they had committed some unforgivable betrayal.

Meanwhile, Aubrey punched the air in celebration. “Let’s gooo! I told y’all!”

Paige groaned, scrubbing her hand down her face. “You bet on us?” she asked, her voice exasperated but not surprised.

Aubrey grinned, shameless. “Of course we did! Do you know how obvious y’all have been? And I knew I’d win..”

Jana, always the blunt one, crossed her arms and looked between Paige and Azzi. “Y’all are gross,” she said, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her words. “Like, really. You couldn’t wait even a little longer?”

Paige rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “Y’all done?”

Azzi, on the other hand, was struggling to keep her laughter at bay as she wrapped an arm around Paige’s waist. “Alright, out. We have a shower to get to, and unlike y’all, we don’t have bet debts to settle.”

KK smirked, raising a brow. “A shower, huh? Together?”

Paige pointed toward the door, her expression flat. “Goodbye, KK.”

Laughing, the group finally started to file out, with Aubrey grinning at Paige on her way out. “Congrats, by the way. About time y’all stopped torturing yourselves.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, Paige let out a long sigh, her head dropping to Azzi’s shoulder. “I swear, I’m not leaving this room for a week.”

Azzi chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of Paige’s head. “It’s gonna take more than a week for all this to go away.”

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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reidswrld · 14 days ago

Text

me & you together song.

❛ i’ve been in love with her for ages, and i can’t seem to get it right. ❜

spencer reid x reader.

summary: you’ve always assumed spencer reid’s love language was acts of service. flowers left at your desk. notes written only to you. every tuesday, he gave you your favorite bagel from downtown. you knew he was like this with the rest of the team, too. you didn’t sweat it. you were focused on your job, and your job only. but when multiple instances occur over the course of a case, it’s hard to ignore both of your feelings for each other.

tags: grumpy fem!character x sunshine!spencer reid, friends to lovers, everyone knows but them, the bau literally bets when they’ll get together, no use of y/n, afab character, found family if you squint hard enough, spencer’s obsessed with her but won’t admit it to the public (the public is morgan), based on me & you together song by the 1975 btw, i wrote this while eating a doritos loco taco

word count: 2k

notes: i asked my best friends to give me a character and a trope. happy first post!

When you first landed the job as an agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, you first told yourself not to get too attached. This was a job, after all. A career. A high risk one, that could end in fatalities and wounds that might never heal, cuts that will always bleed for the rest of eternity. Once you made it clear to yourself that you were to be civil with your coworkers —close enough to be friendly, but not enough to go out for drinks on Saturday nights— and most important of all, do your job, and do it damn well, you poured yourself a glass of wine and watched the rest of the season of the sitcom you’ve been meaning to finish.

However, with all of the ups and downs your job gave you, it could not have allowed for you to expect the boisterous chaos that were your coworkers. They welcomed you in not only with open arms, but open minds. They respected your boundaries, your ideas, everything about you. Your attempt at remaining just civil became useless after months, but looking back, how could you have tried any longer? Penelope gave you a big kiss on the cheek every week, exclaiming that she loved your outfits and needed to go shopping with you right that minute. Morgan ruffled your hair whenever he brought you coffee (despite your incessant dismay that now you needed to brush it again). Hotch, though not a fan of public displays, would murmur a reassuring, you’re doing well every time he returned a file back to you. And then there was Reid.

Spencer Reid.

Well, what was there to say about him?

Over time, you’ve assumed that his love language must be acts of service. He brought you a bagel every week, sometimes more, from your favorite bagel shop downtown. Every Tuesday, a poppy seed bagel with extra plain cream cheese, extra toasted, cut in half so you could eat the middle dollop of cream cheese first. He made you mugs of tea whenever it grew past five pm because you told him that you had trouble falling asleep once months ago. Sometimes, small bouquets of wild grown flowers were left on your desk. At first, you thought it was Penelope being extra kind to you, or even Morgan playing a small joke on you. Both denied, but still giggled as you walked away. Whatever that meant. Behind your back, they secretly slipped each other five dollar bills.

You were sure he did the same for the rest of his coworkers, too. You’ve seen him refill coffee pots whenever Emily mentioned starting a new brew, and work extra hard on his reports in his free time to make sure Hotch or JJ didn’t stay too late. You were on the same page, anyway. Friends. Civil. It didn’t matter.

You huffed as you walked into the BAU, which was deemed more of a half jog, half marathon sprint. You hadn’t bothered to check the weather before leaving, and on the walk from the subway station to the office, it had started downpouring. The sudden drops of cold from the sky had caused you to drop your half empty cup of coffee, and you had forgotten to grab the breakfast you made yourself the night before in the fridge. Not even Harry Styles’ album blaring in your ears could have stopped you from turning the morning around. You grumbled simple good morning’s to everyone as you shook off your coat. Expecting to see your desk surrounded with papers that you were too tired to file in their intended drawers yesterday, you instead found a clean one; the papers were stashed in their designated places (in alphabetical order), the pens were compiled in the pouch you bought at Daiso years ago and cherished, even the trash under your desk was taken out. The only thing left to be seen on the wooden desk was a small brown bag that smelled of heaven and happiness and a folded piece of paper. You reached inside to find your usual poppy seed bagel the same as it always was. To make your Tuesday better. For you, always, the note read. You didn’t need to decipher whose scribbles those belonged to. You forgot it was Tuesday.

“Where’s my bagel, lover boy?” Morgan’s voice boomed as the man sat on top of your desk, snatching the bag with a grin. Spencer only swiftly passed by the desk with ease, choosing to make eye contact with the carpet.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid. Happy Tuesday.” Spencer’s eyes divert to yours quickly. He only nods, responding with the same greeting. Happy Tuesday, honey.

Morgan’s laugh carried throughout the room, swinging his legs as he spoke. “You two make me sick, that’s for sure. Can I have some of your bagel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You furrowed your brow in annoyance, which only made Morgan smile widely.

“Do you need to get your glasses checked again? You know, there’s an optometrist across the street—”

As you started to speak, Hotch walked from his office, announcing a new case and to meet in the room immediately. You got up swiftly, grabbing your bagel from Morgan’s hands with a muttered asshole falling from your lips. It only made Morgan cackle loudly. You remind yourself to write a psych evaluation on Morgan after the case is over with.

On the first day of the case, you realized it was going to be a more difficult one than usual. You didn’t panic. You never do. The second day, you worked harder than ever only to see little to no result. You continued not to sleep. It was like clockwork. Work, coffee, repeat. After three days, the case was far from settled. In fact, it seemed to only be getting worse with no ending in sight. Everyone was continuing to work in hopes that they would be home for the weekend. The fourth day, though, seemed to be the worst. The killer was getting more spontaneous with their kills, and the team seemed to keep showing up minutes after the kill had occurred. You were running on little to no sleep and were getting more frustrated with each move the killer made in silence. Near the end of the day, as you stared aimlessly at the wall in front of you, hoping it would make some sort of answer appear in front of your eyes, Hotch put a hand on your shoulder, You jumped slightly, trance be gone, when he told you to get back to the hotel immediately.

Immediately, you persisted. “I’m fine. I’ve almost got something. I’m sure of something.”

“I’m not asking you.”

“Hotch—”

“I’m ordering you, not only as your boss, but mostly as your friend. Your dark circles are getting concerning.” You tried to budge once more, but as Hotch gave one of his stern glares, you knew you were done with work for the day. “I’ll get someone to drive you back. Wait here.”

Within seconds, Spencer appeared, replacing the previous figure of Hotch. Gently tapping your shoulder, he signaled for you to get up. With a flick of a wrist and a soft grin, he spun around a set of keys around his fingers. “Hotch is letting me drive.”

You smiled. “Don’t want Morgan to ‘vibe it?’”

“His definition of ‘vibing it’ is just turning on the sirens when he doesn’t want to stop at a red light.” You walked side by side to the car. Your shoulders brushed ever so slightly due to Spencer’s hands in his pockets, but you didn’t mind. You welcomed the warmth.

“Your definition is turning the volume up to 13 and calling it loud.”

“I would like to be able to hear when I’m old, thank you very much. Any decibel over eighty and poof. Hearing. Out the window.”

“I really don’t think playing Queen at any volume above 13 will kill you, Spence.”

“You never know, honey.” Spencer opened the door for you, ushering you in before closing the door and getting in on the driver’s side. He pulled a cassette tape from his bag and pushed it in the radio; it started to softly play Queen while Spencer messed with the volume, setting it at 13 before driving away. It made a soft smile appear on your lips as your head leaned against the cool glass. Between the constant, soothing movement of the car or the way Spencer’s lips mouthed the lyrics of Good Old Fashioned Boy, it was hard to tell when the lines blurred and sleep drifted you away. The only thing you recognized before falling asleep were the unmistakable words that left Spencer’s mouth.

“Good night, honey. Love you.”

You woke up with a start the next morning. You had no idea how you got back into your hotel room, or how you were wearing your favorite sports shirt that you find comfort in sleeping in all of these years, though your mind directed each question back to the same person, of course. Your mind wandered to the night before; it was the most relaxed you had been all week, even if it was just the simple act of driving with Spencer. You had done it before in past cases —even driven him back to his hotel at times— but this time felt different. Maybe it was the words that left his mouth.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” Spencer suddenly walked in, holding bags in his arms. He set them down on the table, pulling out various assortments of breakfast foods and handing them to you. “No bagel shops around here, but I did find some good pancakes if you want to eat now.”

“Spence.” You suddenly sat up straight, as if a revelation hit you.

“What? No pancakes? It came with hashbrowns, too.”

“Spencer.” You emphasized, getting him to look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you do all of this for me?”

“What?” His head cocked to the side, not understanding.

“Why do you… I mean… you go out of your way to do things for me. Unnecessary things. I need to know why.”

“Unnecessary…?”

“You… you leave me flowers that are like, hand picked from a garden or the forest, or something not from the city. You clean my desk for me when I’ve left it too messy. You make me my favorite tea when I’m at the office too late. You write me notes that are alluding but you won’t say what. I mean, Spence, you get me my favorite bagel every Tuesday. Why?”

His face suddenly turned serious as he sat next to you on the bed. “You want to know why?” He repeated.

“I know you do these things for the rest of our team, but I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Because I’m in love with you.” Spencer stared at you. “I’ve been in love with you. I think I’ll always be at least a little in love with you, if I’m being honest. I thought you’d catch on by now.”

“…What?”

“Yeah, honey. I thought I was pretty obvious.”

“So you meant what you said last night, then?” You said softly.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Really. I would’ve said it better if I had known you were awake.”

“But I did.” Your face grew closer to his. “And I’m not upset about it. Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Just as your lips began to brush, Spencer began to smile. “You know what day it is, honey? It’s our day.”

You smiled, too. “Happy Tuesday.”

You both tried to be subtle about it for the rest of the case. Weeks had passed by without the team knowing, but one slip up of a kiss on the cheek from Spencer on a Tuesday morning had led to an entire office full of chaos (and a meeting on workplace romance and consent from Hotch). You two didn’t mind, though. It was bound to happen. Until Penelope turned to Morgan and yelled at him to cough up the fifty dollars he owed her, of course.

Happy Tuesday.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #lots of fluff #x reader #fanfiction #found family #grumpy sunshine

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lewisvinga · 10 months ago

Text

my boss ? | toto wolff x fem! russell! reader

summary; after his divorce with susie, toto swore to have a break from the dating scene. everything changed when george brought his sister to a team event.

warnings; age gap,

word count; 1k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; requested ! not rlly proofread lol

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Since when did Toto have a divorce?” Y/n loudly exclaimed to her younger brother from the living room as she scrolled through Twitter. “And can you hurry up? I finished 20 minutes ago.”

“Like a few months ago. You didn’t know?” George asked, finally appearing from his bedroom. “I’m just fashionably late!”

Y/n snorted as she looked at him. “Okay…” She trails off before returning, “And no I didn’t know. I don’t have sleepovers with your boss.”

“Whatever, you wouldn’t get it!”

“Right…” She mumbled, shutting off her phone and setting it inside her small handbag.

Despite her brother driving for Mercedes for a few years now, Y/n had only met Toto once, which happened to be during her worst moment. It was Silverstone 2022 and she was ecstatic to see her brother race in his home race. She had gotten the cold but was determined to go. So she went but opted for no makeup, a casual loungewear outfit, her Tasman Ugg, and her hair clipped up in a banana clip.

She honestly didn’t care for her appearance. She cared more about being comfortable while sick to support her brother still. If she had known that his hot boss would be there, she might’ve dressed up more.

However, that thought was blown out the window when she found out he was married. The small crush on him always persisted, but it was just a mere crush on someone unattainable so she pushed it to the back of her mind.

Until she saw a tweet revealing that her younger brother's hot boss had divorced his wife.

When George invited his sister to a Mercedes event because Carmen was busy with work, she was ecstatic to make a better impression on the Mercedes team principal. She chose a deep red dress that complimented her skin, her long hair was blown out and diamonds adorned her neck and bracelet. She looked different compared to when she first met him.

Toto immediately noticed Y/n when she walked into the gala with George on her side. She had caught his attention with the way she flipped her hair and laughed at a joke Lewis said.

He remembered when he first met her. She was dressed in sweats and had a nasal voice. Her nose was red from blowing it into a tissue so often but he thought it was cute. He was already having issues with Susie by that point but Y/n managed to catch his attention.

He was chatting with sponsors when George walked up to him with his older sister beside him. “Toto! Fancy seeing you here.” The Mercedes driver says in a teasing tone as the two shook hands.

“Same old, same old.” Toto chuckled, keeping his eyes on the girl beside him. “And Y/n, right?”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock as her red lips curled into a smile. “Yes! You remembered?” She asked, her voice filled with excitement and curiosity as she shook hands with the older man.

“I’ll never forget such a pretty face.”

His words made her let out a giggle as George held back the urge to gag. “I’m gonna head off, talk to some sponsors, you’ll be alright on your own?” He asks his sister.

“She can stay here with me, it’s fine.”

“I’ll be fine, George.” Y/n smiled and patted George’s shoulder before turning back to the Austrian, “Besides, Toto will keep me company.” Her brother gave her a strange look before excusing himself and leaving to talk to some sponsors leaving her with Toto.

“So, what’re you doing here? With George, I mean.”

“Being a good sister-in-law. and making sure my brother doesn’t get shit-faced at these events because Carmen isn’t here?”

Her response earned her a deep laugh from Toto. He shook his head at her response, his hand tightly wrapped around the cup of scotch. “I understand him, truly. Sometimes these events bore me out of my mind.”

“At least it’s an excuse to dress up.”

“It is. And must I say, you look beautiful tonight.”

Y/n felt her face heat up, mentally thanking the full coverage foundation she wore that covered up her red cheeks. “I-well-“ She stuttered. She clears her throat as she stands up straight, “Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.”

Fortunately for her, George didn’t bother her the entire night which meant she spent the whole night chatting away with Toto. They immediately had a connection despite the Mercedes team principal being a few years older.

As the evening progressed, neither realized that the venue was now almost empty except for a few people. They were so distracted by each other and by the alcohol in their system that they failed to notice when people began to leave.

Y/n looked around with a laugh at the empty venue. She noticed George by the entrance with his arms crossed, signaling to her with his eyes that he wanted to leave. “I guess this is my sign to leave.”

“Actually, Y/n,” Toto’s deep accented voice interrupted her before she could say anything. She hummed in response as she noticed him pulling his phone out. “I’d like to carry our conversation another time. Perhaps over dinner?” He suggested with a smile, going to the contact app on his phone and showing it to her.

She couldn’t help but smile widely as she took the phone from his hands. She typed her phone number in and even took a picture to add under her contact. “Well, Toto, I’ll be looking forward to continuing our conversation.”

With a sudden boost of confidence, Y/n stood on her tiptoes to plant a quick yet gentle kiss on Toto’s cheek. She smiled when her lipstick left behind a red stain on his cheek. She quickly turned around and walked to George, making sure to keep her posture straight and not daring to look back.

George, who saw it all happen, had a look of disgust on his face as she dragged him out of the venue. “My boss? Out of all people, you fancy my boss?” He asked in disbelief as they made their way out to the parking lot.

Y/n sighed and playfully rolled her eyes, “Oh, shut it, George. Besides, he’s hot and single now.”

“Gross! That’s my boss! Really, Y/n?!”

“Really, George.”

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #toto wolff scenarios #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine

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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago

Text

A fresh start

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Word count : 4.2k

Part 2

Requested!

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!

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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."

Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.

"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"

"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"

"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.

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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.

"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.

"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.

"She just joined the team."

"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.

"Y/N!" Joris called out.

"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.

"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"

"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.

"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.

"I can figure that one myself!"

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"Charlie!"

"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.

"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.

"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.

"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.

"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.

"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."

Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.

"This will be your..."

Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.

"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"

Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–" Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."

"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."

"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.

"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."

He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."

"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"

"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid

"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"

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"Mommy, look!"

You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"

"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.

"A moustache? Is that a cat?"

"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"

"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"

"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.

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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"

"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"

"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.

"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"

Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"

"Adam!"

The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.

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"Mommy!"

You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.

"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.

You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.

"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.

"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"

"Yes!" he squealed.

You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”

"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.

"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"

His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie!"

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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.

"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"

"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.

"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.

"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"

"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.

"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"

"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"

"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."

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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.

"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.

"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.

"No."

"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"

"Mommy only goes on a date with me."

"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.

"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.

"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.

"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"

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"Charlie hurt?"

"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"

Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.

Until you heard a knock on the door,

"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.

"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.

"Why didn’t you come to see me?"

"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.

"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."

To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"

"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.

"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."

You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"

"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.

"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.

"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.

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"Go! Open the door!"

"I can’t. Give me a second."

"Why?"

"I’m nervous, buddy."

"I’ll open it for you!"

"No, no!"

You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.

"Mommy?"

"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.

"Go, Charlie!”

"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"

"Y/N. Actually–"

"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.

The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?

And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.

"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.

"Would you go out on a date with me?"

You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“

"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.

"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.

"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."

He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"

"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.

"And what’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles."

He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."

"How did you get his permission?"

You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.

"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.

"Fine. Just one date."

To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."

"Sure, I’ll send you the address."

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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"

"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"

Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."

"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"

Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.

Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.

"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.

"It’s none of your business. Please leave."

"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.

"Leave, please."

"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.

"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.

"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.

You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.

"Y/N? Are you crying?"

You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I–" You sobbed again.

"She wants you to leave, kid."

Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"

"I’m her husband."

You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.

Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."

"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.

"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.

"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"

"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."

"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.

"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.

Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.

"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.

But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.

"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.

"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.

"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.

"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.

"How long?"

"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.

"You didn’t report to the police?"

"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.

"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."

"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.

"You still owe me a proper date?"

"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.

"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."

"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.

"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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hyperions-light · 3 months ago

Text

woAH I heard people are hating on Neve which is super cringe! Neve positivity time!!

I am in love with her because

1. She has an impeccable sense of fashion, she never misses, could make a paper bag look good

2. Docktown sucks so bad, like major Kirkwall vibes, and she loves it SO MUCH

3. If you give money to the people asking for it on the streets in Docktown, sometimes Neve will check in with them and make sure they have a place to stay it’s so sweet !!!

4. She cannot cook at all. Only eats fried fish. Boils her coffee. Zero domestic skills, completely perfect

5. She loves Bellara so much, she’s such a good friend ;-; She finds all her serials and helps her try to work out the mysteries! She gets her goat cheese! She comes to Cyrian’s funeral ;-;

6. If you wander around Docktown with her in your party you can stop and talk to her regular contacts and she will check in with them <3

7. She works alone because she’s scared that the people who try to help her will get hurt =(

8. She’s not afraid of Spite and she refuses to see Lucanis as a monster or treat him differently, even after he almost kills Illario.

9. She helps Taash figure out their gender stuff and she is so supportive and helpful <3

10. The WAY she talks to people who are hurting… like even though she’s so cynical, personally, she never tells people to give up on others, she’s never sarcastic or scathing when people are in pain. I took her on Taash’s final mission last time, and her voice ;-; She wanted to help so badly, but she couldn’t do anything. She reminded them that everyone was there for them. She loves SO much, so intensely.

11. She does not expect anyone to help her, and especially if you don’t save Minrathous she’s skeptical, but she’s so thankful for Rook’s help when they give it. She’s so fucking lonely, man! She thinks she has to do it all herself, because everyone else in the world and especially in Minrathous has shown her over and over that they don’t care about the people she loves, the people like HER. She’s not rich, she’s not famous or powerful or well-connected, she’s just using what she has to try and help people!

12. Manfred canonically doesn’t like nicknames, but he lets Neve call him ‘Fred

Neve Gallus, the woman you are <3

Edit: When I posted this someone immediately made some rude comment so here’s some more stuff to love about Neve Gallus!

13. She investigated the mystery of the candlehops and she was so serious about it! Just like the wisps in the Lighthouse!

14. When she was a kid she didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up and she HATED it lol

15. She got her best coat as a gift from a grateful client!

16. She keeps her tiny little apartment because they gave her a good deal on the rent and she doesn’t want to lose it

17. Halos keeps trying to give her fish for free but she insists on paying him <3

18. That joke she made to Lucanis about having an extra leg if he needed one lol

19. She misses the sound of the ocean, and sometimes when she wakes up in the Lighthouse she hears it for a moment

20. The way she explains everything so patiently to Taash about Tevinter and Docktown and the way status symbols work; the way she is always trying to use her skills to help the other members of the team!!

21. How she makes sure to check up on that kid whose father was doing demon summoning stuff and make sure that he’s alright ;-;

#datv spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age #veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #neve gallus

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amirasainz · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/amirasainz/768246287260942336/i-have-a-request-for-lando-norris-x-sisterreader

if you would could you write a part two?

like she really leaned on lando but also ollie and ollie was serious when he could he her bf …. and they get together

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Part 1

Big Brother to the Rescue Part 2

The following months were a whirlwind for Yn. Since that difficult weekend at the Grand Prix, Lando had made it his mission to bring her along to as many races as possible. At first, she’d been hesitant, worried about being a distraction. But Lando insisted.

“Come on, Yn,” he said one evening over dinner. “I drive better when I know you’re there. You’re like my good luck charm.”

Yn snorted. “You can’t use me as an excuse for a bad weekend, you know.”

“Never,” Lando said with a grin. “So, what do you say? Come to the next one?”

She agreed, and soon, race weekends became a regular part of her life again.

---

At first, Lando kept a close eye on her. He’d constantly check in—asking if she needed anything, cracking jokes to make her laugh, and making sure she wasn’t overthinking about her ex. But as the months passed, Yn’s laughter returned, and her smile became brighter.

Lando couldn’t help but notice the change. She seemed genuinely happy again, which filled him with relief. But something gnawed at him. Why?

---

It was during a particularly busy race weekend when Lando finally got his answer. The McLaren garage was bustling with engineers, mechanics, and team members preparing the cars for qualifying. Lando had just finished a debrief and decided to swing by the garage to check on Yn.

As he stepped inside, he froze.

There she was, standing off to the side with Ollie.

They were deep in conversation, their faces lit up with wide smiles. Yn’s laugh echoed softly over the hum of activity, and Lando narrowed his eyes. Why is he making her laugh like that?

Then he saw it.

Ollie leaned in, saying something that made Yn blush and look down shyly. And before she could tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Ollie gently did it for her.

Lando’s jaw tightened.

Oh no, no, no.

He started striding toward them, fully prepared to put an end to whatever this was. But before he could take more than a few steps, a hand caught his arm.

It was Oscar.

“Where are you going?” Oscar asked, his tone calm but firm.

“To remind Ollie that he’s not allowed to flirt with my sister,” Lando said through gritted teeth.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why?” Lando repeated incredulously. “Because she’s my little sister. That’s why.”

Oscar glanced over at Yn and Ollie. They were still talking, completely unaware of Lando’s growing frustration. Yn laughed again, her eyes sparkling in a way Lando hadn’t seen in months.

“Look at her,” Oscar said, nodding toward them.

“I am,” Lando snapped. “That’s the problem.”

“No, that’s the solution,” Oscar replied. “She’s smiling again, Lando. She’s happy.”

Lando hesitated.

Oscar continued, his voice softer now. “You’ve been worried about her for months, and now she’s back to being herself. Don’t ruin that because you’re being overprotective.”

Lando opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He looked at Yn again—really looked at her. She was radiant, her cheeks flushed from laughter as she teased Ollie about something.

And Ollie...

Lando hated to admit it, but Ollie looked at Yn with genuine affection. The way he leaned toward her, hanging on her every word, and the tenderness in his gaze—it wasn’t just flirting.

It was something more.

Oscar gave Lando a pat on the back. “Think about it,” he said before walking away.

Lando stood there for a moment, torn. His instincts screamed at him to protect Yn, to pull her away and remind Ollie who she was. But Oscar’s words lingered in his mind.

She’s smiling again.

With a heavy sigh, Lando took a step back. He turned and walked out of the garage, leaving Yn and Ollie to their moment.

---

Later that evening, Yn found Lando sitting outside the hospitality area, staring at the sky.

“Hey,” she said, sitting beside him.

“Hey,” he replied.

She nudged him with her elbow. “You okay?”

Lando glanced at her, noticing the contentment in her expression. “Yeah. Are you?”

Yn smiled softly. “I am.”

They sat in silence for a while before Yn spoke again. “Thanks for bringing me to all these races. I needed this.”

“You needed more than that,” Lando said, his voice teasing but warm.

Yn tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Lando said quickly, shaking his head. “Just...I’m glad you’re happy.”

She studied him for a moment, then leaned her head on his shoulder. “I have the best brother in the world, you know that?”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a grin.

They stayed like that for a while, the sounds of the paddock fading into the background. And though Lando still had his reservations about Ollie, he decided he could live with it.

As long as Yn was smiling, that was all that mattered.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#lando norris x reader #lando norris x sister!reader #ollie bearman x reader #oscar piastri x norris!reader #oscar piastri x reader #oliver bearman x reader #norris!reader

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reidswhre · 3 months ago

Note

could you write something about this? rossi having a teenage daughter who is just as smart as spencer, and them meeting each other and discovering the similarity, is something different but i think it could be fun to read! 🫶🏻

spencer reid x fem!rossi!reader

warnings: nothing, pure fluff

a/n: this is so cute omg thx for sending it! btw i didn’t realize it said “teenage” until now i’m so sorry 😭☹️ i hope that doesn’t bother you too much, she’s spencer’s age!

Rossi had invited everyone to dinner at his house. It was something “simple.” In quotes because, come on, for Rossi nothing was simple.

“Come in, if you break something, I’ll tell Hotch to cut half of your salary.” He gave a fake smile as he let them in.

“Aww, you’re so kind.” Emily returned the fake smile, which made everyone laugh.

“Take a seat, how about some wine?” Rossi offered, and everyone graciously accepted.

Except Spencer. “No, thanks— I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Of course you don’t, kid.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “What would you like? Orange juice? Fruit puree?” Rossi teased him.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Spencer smiled a little.

“Dad, do you know where the library is—” You came down the stairs quickly before noticing the team in the living room. “Oh— Hello.” You lowered your voice, a bit shy.

“Hey you, I forgot to mention it.”

“You definitely did.” You said, shrinking into your spot.

“Look, this is my work team.” He pointed to each person as they greeted you. “And this is my daughter.” He introduced you by name to the team.

“Nice to meet you.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to… head upstairs. Excuse me.”

“Are you kidding? Stay.” Your dad encouraged you.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t say that, sweetie. You’d never be a bother.” Garcia spoke up.

“And if it does bother them, they can leave, it’s my house.” Rossi joked, and everyone laughed a bit.

“It’s fine, really,” Hotch said.

“Okay, thank you.” You finished coming down the stairs, a bit nervous.

Now, you weren’t thaaaat shy (just a little), but come on, it was your dad’s entire work team. How could you not be?

“I didn’t know you lived with your daughter.” Morgan smiled, taking a sip of his wine.

“I don’t, she’s visiting.” Rossi gave you a look to encourage some small talk.

“I live in England, I’m in university.”

“Oh, where?” Spencer asked, intrigued.

“Oxford.” You smiled shyly.

Morgan whistled. “That’s fancy.”

“It’s not as grand as it sounds.” You shook your head.

“Oxford, along with Cambridge, is the elite of education in England. One of the two always appears in the top rankings of the country, as well as the list of the ten best universities in the world.” Spencer looked at you. “I think it is as grand as it sounds.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit at his response.

Spencer, the genius of the BAU, you knew a little about him.

Your dad used to talk about him and said you two would probably get along, but he said that about everyone, so you didn’t pay it much attention.

“Cambridge is better than Oxford.”

“Depends on the field.” He replied.

“No, it doesn’t. In general statistics, it’s better.”

“You can’t rely on general statistics.”

“Said the profiler.”

Everyone chuckled at your little exchange, which made you smile a bit.

From then on, everyone started their own conversations, and you noticed Spencer sitting there, staring at his glass of water.

“Anyway, I chose Oxford for a reason, so you’re not completely wrong.” You sat next to him.

“You got into Cambridge?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Want me to be honest?”

“Of course.” He looked at you intently.

“Maybe the fact that Oxford looks like Hogwarts influenced my decision a bit.”

Spencer laughed. “That’s fair.”

“And you? Where did you go? I’ve heard you have several PhDs.”

“I went to the MIT.” He smiled nervously.

“That sounds amazing.”

“Not as amazing as yours.” He looked at you.

“Sure, yours wasn’t run by Dumbledore.” You joked.

“You really like it, huh?”

“Are you kidding? I love it! It’s my favorite series.” You got excited talking about Harry Potter.

“I’m more of a Star Wars fan.” You grimaced at that. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve never seen them,” you admitted.

Spencer’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Seriously! They just don’t appeal to me, sorry.” You apologized through laughter.

“Well, what else do you like then?”

“Hmm.” You looked at the ceiling, thinking. “I like magic.”

“Really? I love magic.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah? What can you do?” You playfully challenged him with a smile.

“Uhhh.” He looked around, searching for something to show you.

“Nothing?” You smiled.

“I guess not…” He shrugged. “Unless…” He made a small gesture for you to check behind your ear.

You gave him a confused look and reached behind your ear like he did. You pulled out a little piece of paper.

You gasped in surprise. “How did you do that?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Come on! That’s amazing!”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aww.” You pouted.

“Thank you all so much.” You heard someone behind you saying goodbye.

“Oh—I think I have to go.” Spencer stood up from his seat.

“Yes, of course—” You stood up as well to say goodbye to the others.

A little later, after everyone had left, you were helping your dad clean the kitchen while he was tidying up the living room.

“What’s this?” He asked, showing you the little piece of paper you had pulled from behind your ear earlier.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just a magic trick. You can throw it away.” You laughed while washing the glasses.

“Are you sure?” He said, walking over to you. “It has a number.”

“What!?” You dropped the glasses in the sink and quickly dried your hands. “Let me see!” You rushed over to your dad and snatched the paper from him.

“That kid was trying to hit on you?” He rolled his eyes while looking at you.

“Oh my God, yes!” You smiled, excited.

Then you remembered your dad worked with him, and your smile dropped.

“I mean— maybe, probably not— it doesn’t matter.” You shrugged and casually slipped the paper into the back pocket of your pants.

“Sure, it doesn’t.” He narrowed his eyes and started heading up the stairs. “Remind him you live 7,588 kilometers away!” He shouted from afar.

You smiled a little and gave a small jump of excitement in the quiet of your living room.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #request #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #mgg #mathew gray gubler #mathew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #fluff #fem reader #david rossi #david rossi daughter

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redroomreflections · 3 months ago

Text

At The End of The Night

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Universe

Warnings: Smut Inside - Minors DNI (18+)

Note: I hope y'all enjoy

Summary: Wanda has always been a third in Reader and Nat's relationship. Why not take it to the next level?

W/c: 5k

It felt strange, in a good way, for the house to be this quiet. You were seated on the couch, sandwiched between Wanda and Natasha, as the soft TV light bathed the room in dim, darting light. Cara was away at a sleepover with friends, leaving you and Natasha with the rare opportunity for a quiet night. Of course, inviting Wanda over for a movie night was a given.

People always joked that Wanda was the third in your marriage, and while that was only half true, the three of you shared a bond unlike any other. When Wanda joined the team, you were the first person to make her feel welcome, and she was someone who quickly found her place in your lives. You and Wanda immediately hit it off, bonding over a few common interests and quickly building a friendship that became as easy as family. Wanda was a person you trusted with pretty much everything. She's someone you both cared about deeply.

Now, nestled together under a heavy blanket, Wanda gave an exaggerated sigh as she leaned her head against the pillows. “I’m just saying, if he wanted her back, he could have tried a little harder than just showing up at her work with a bouquet,” she scoffed, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Natasha smirked on your other side. “It’s a rom-com. If it made sense, it wouldn’t be half as entertaining,” she said, sipping her wine. She draped an arm casually over the back of the couch, stroking the back of your neck with the tip of her fingers.

You sighed softly at the sensation, the wine, and the heat of their bodies, making you feel content and comfortable. Wanda shifted, and her thigh pressed against yours. The movie was coming to an end, and you were buzzed. It was a good feeling.

"I need more wine," You announced.

"Oh no, you don't," Natasha gripped your glass out of arms' reach. "You get too frisky when you're drunk."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," You scoffed.

"It is when we have guests," Natasha gestured to Wanda. "You've been rubbing my leg this entire movie."

You hadn't even noticed. "Sorry, Wands," You apologized.

"No, I'm used to it," Wanda waved her hand, dismissing your concerns.

"Used to it?" You frowned.

Wanda nodded. "You're not subtle. You always do the same things when you're drunk, which isn't often. You guys are very touchy-feely." She teased, laughing a little as she looked between you and Natasha. "Not that it's a bad thing."

"Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable," Natasha apologized.

"It's fine," Wanda promised. "It's a nice change, actually. Everyone is so formal, and everyone always wants something from me. You guys are the only ones who make me feel... Normal. It's nice."

"We'll always be here for you," You smiled. "You're sweet."

She smiled back at you.

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself with us. And if you ever feel uncomfortable, just say the word.” You told her.

Wanda smiled, glancing down. “You guys are the best,” she said, looking up with a hint of bashfulness. “I guess I’ve always wondered what that would feel like—to have someone you could just be yourself around all the time.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Natasha before gently nudging Wanda with your shoulder. “It’ll happen for you, too, you know. Some lucky person out there will love you for exactly who you are.”

Wanda chuckled, her cheeks turning a little pink. “You both make it look so easy, though. How do you even start with all of this… relationship stuff?”

"Have you not been in one?" Natasha raised a brow.

"No, not really. There was a guy back home, but he was a jerk. And I was so busy, and then there was Ultron and Sokovia, and..." Wanda trailed off, shaking her head. "It's always seemed like a luxury."

"It's not. It's an incredible experience." You said, smiling to yourself as you glanced at your wife.

"And the sex is a bonus," Natasha grinned.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."

"What?" You frowned, a little confused. "Are you a virgin?"

"No, no," Wanda shook her head. "I've slept with a man before, but..."

"But what?" Natasha frowned.

"I've never slept with a woman," Wanda explained.

"Would you like to?" You tilted your head.

"With whom?" Wanda's eyes widened.

"Well, not necessarily now," You shook your head. You licked your lips and thought it over. "But we could help you practice if you'd like."

"Practice?"

"Sure," Natasha nodded. "There's no reason for you to have a bad first time."

"I'm not asking for a pity-fuck," Wanda rolled her eyes. She sighed. "I should probably get home."

"Or you could stay?" You suggested, looking over to Natasha for backup. "If you want."

Natasha nodded in agreement. "It's a big bed, and you could have the spare room if you'd rather have privacy. But, no pressure."

"Yeah," You agreed. "It doesn't have to be anything weird. I mean, not unless you want it to be."

Wanda stared at you both briefly, her brow creasing a little. "So, what, I'll come to sleep with you guys, and you'll make me feel good?"

"If that's what you want, yes," You nodded. "And if not, we'll still be here for you."

"Why?"

"Because we're your friends and care about you," Natasha shrugged. "We're offering because we'd like to, but if you're not interested, that's fine, too."

Wanda looked at the both of you for a moment, a little taken aback. You felt a little guilty. You hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable.

"What would we do?" She finally asked.

"Whatever you'd like. Whatever makes you feel good," Natasha assured her.

"I'm sorry," Wanda shook her head. She brushed a hand over her face to collect her thoughts. "Maybe I've had too much to drink. Are you guys being serious?"

"Yes," You nodded.

"Okay, hold on. Let me process," Wanda put up her hands.

You and Natasha exchanged another glance, not wanting to make the younger woman feel awkward.

"I'm going to grab more wine," Natasha announced, standing up. "Be right back."

"You can ask questions," You said, reaching over and squeezing her hand.

"I-I'm not sure what to ask," She admitted.

"How do you feel about it?"

"A little embarrassed," Wanda chuckled nervously. "But also a little curious."

"What's embarrassing about it?"

"It's not something that's normally talked about, is it? People don't go around bragging about how much they want to fuck their friends." She explained, dropping her hands to her lap. "You two are generous for the offer, but I don't want to be someone intruding on your marriage."

"It's only intruding if we say no and you push," You reminded her. "Which is the same for you. If you say no, we won't push."

There was a long pause from her. She hadn't said no yet.

Wanda sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. "I'm afraid I won't be good. What if I fumble, or what if it's awkward and..."

"Then we'll have a laugh and call it a day. I promise." You reassured her.

Wanda bit her lip, and you watched her eyes dart from the door to you and back to the door. Finally, she turned to look at you again.

"What would you want to do with me?" She asked, her voice a little softer. Instead of telling her, you decided to show her. You scooted closer to her on the couch, raising your hands to her face before leaning in to press your lips against hers. Her lips were soft, and her skin was warm. She melted into the kiss, her shoulders relaxing as she brought a hand up to touch your face. You pulled away for a moment, gauging her reaction. Her lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed, but she said nothing.

"Come here," You whispered. This kiss was more sensual. Mainly for her benefit and partly because you'd wanted to taste her for a while. You sucked on her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from the young woman.

"I can see why you're a married woman," Wanda whispered.

"I've got some moves," You smirked.

"So do I," Wanda replied, suddenly pulling you back in. Her lips were hungry and insistent, and her tongue flicked against yours, drawing another soft moan from the depths of your throat.

"I leave for two minutes," Natasha sighed. She had three filled wine glasses balancing in her hands. "I take it you're up for the offer."

"I'm still considering," Wanda replied, though her eyes were glued to your lips. "We should discuss this over wine."

Natasha grinned. "Good plan. Here's your glass." She handed Wanda the red wine before sitting next to you. She reached for the remote, flicked the TV off, and plunged the room into semi-darkness. Only the soft glow from the kitchen light illuminated the living room.

Wanda gulped down her glass of wine as you looked at her amusedly. When her glass was empty, she softly set it on the table. "Are you guys in an open marriage?"

"No," Natasha answered. "Not open. We just like you."

"I'm not a homewrecker," Wanda insisted.

"It's not a wreck if we want to share," You said.

Wanda took a deep breath, looking between you and Natasha. She chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated your proposition. You could tell she was nervous but also intrigued.

"If it's too much, we can stop whenever you want," Natasha reminded her.

"Can I kiss you?" Wanda asked her.

"I'd be upset if you didn't."

Wanda's lips crashed against Natasha's. Their lips locked, their tongues meeting as the two women explored each other. The sight was breathtaking, and you could feel the arousal growing within you.

You took a long sip of your wine, watching them. There were key differences in how you kissed and Natasha kissed. Natasha was more hands-on with her kissing, opting to feel whatever part of your body she could get her hands on. You could see them twitch in her lap out of the corner of your eye. Her kisses were confident and sensual. They left no doubt in your mind about what her intentions were.

Wanda's hands rested against your thighs, occasionally gripping them. She was less intense and more curious. Her kisses were tentative, exploring the other woman's mouth slowly and deliberately. She clearly felt for Natasha, and you wondered if the redhead knew. It was a dangerous line to cross, but you were not giving up this opportunity.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how Natasha felt the first time the two of you had sex. Seeing the two of them together was thrilling and a little surreal.

Natasha was the one to break the kiss. She pulled away with a sigh, licking her lips as she looked over at you.

"You've got good taste," She smirked.

"So do you," You winked.

"How far do we want to take this?" Natasha asked, looking over at Wanda. "The ball is in your court."

"I have some ideas," Wanda blushed. "But I'm a little afraid."

"Do you want to be the one getting fucked?" You asked.

"Yes," Wanda nodded.

"Do you want to fuck Natasha, or do you want her to fuck you?"

"I-I... I want you to fuck me," Wanda said.

"That can be arranged," You winked.

"And do you want me to watch, or do you want me to join?" Natasha asked, her fingers dancing along Wanda's arm.

"Whatever you'd like," Wanda said softly.

"We have plans for you yet," You rested a hand on the small of her waist. "I hope this is okay."

"This is great," Wanda said, leaning back as you kissed her neck. "Just different. I'm not used to being treated this way."

"Well, you deserve it," Natasha purred. "And so does my wife. She likes it a little rough. How do you like it?"

"I'm not sure," Wanda admitted. "I've only had sex a couple of times, and it wasn't amazing."

"Oh, honey," Natasha cooed. "We'll take good care of you. That's a promise."

"Okay," Wanda breathed.

"Come here," You grabbed her by the waist, pulling her over onto your lap. You kissed her gently, trying to soothe her. You didn't want her to feel uncomfortable or pressured; the last thing you wanted was for her to feel like an intruder.

Wanda moaned into your mouth as your tongue found hers, the tension in her shoulders gradually melting away. Your fingers crept under the hem of her shirt, gently rubbing the soft skin of her lower back.

"Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," Wanda nodded, breaking the kiss and climbing off your lap. Natasha took her hand, leading her to the bedroom as you trailed. The room was dark and cool. She set Wanda up on the edge of the bed.

"I want to see you two kiss," She blushed.

"Oh, does that turn you on?"

"It always has," She nodded.

Natasha smirked. "Then we should oblige." She turned and kissed you, her hands cupping your face. Her lips were soft, and the taste of wine lingered on her tongue.

"Mm," Wanda hummed.

You'd wanted Natasha's hands on your body all night. She sucked on your tongue, drawing a soft moan from the depths of your throat.

"Fuck, that's hot," Wanda whimpered.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling Natasha's lips pull up at the corners. You broke the kiss and pulled her close, your bodies pressing against each other.

"Your turn," You said, gesturing towards Wanda. "Go easy on her."

"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Natasha replied, her green eyes sparkling.

"Are you gonna strip, or are you waiting for me to do it?" Wanda teased.

Natasha laughed, walking over to the young woman and sitting beside her. She placed a hand on her thigh and leaned in, kissing her. This time, there was no hesitation.

Natasha kissed her hungrily, her fingers tracing circles against her bare skin. Wanda moaned softly, her body shivering. She broke the kiss, looking up at Natasha through thick lashes.

"Are you alright?" Natasha asked.

"More than," Wanda nodded.

"Can I touch you?"

"Please."

Natasha's hand trailed up her thigh and slipped underneath her shirt. Her hand found the soft cup of her bra as she used her thumb to tease Wanda's nipple through the material. To Wanda, it was perfect foreplay, but you knew better. Natasha was gauging Wanda's sensitivity. She did not disappoint.

"Mmm," Wanda sighed, her back arching slightly to get more feeling. "Fuck, that feels good."

"Does it?" Natasha smirked, continuing to rub the fabric. Wanda's nipple was hardening and beginning to peek out.

"Yes," Wanda whimpered.

"You want more?"

"Please."

Natasha's fingers slipped beneath her bra, her fingertips brushing against the soft, sensitive skin. Wanda moaned, her body jerking a little.

"Fuck, that's so good," Wanda whined.

"You like having your nipples played with, don't you?" Natasha purred.

"Y-yes," Wanda breathed.

Natasha smirked. "Good to know."

She kissed her again, her lips hungry and demanding. Wanda melted into the kiss, her body sinking into the mattress. You used that moment of distraction to begin unbuttoning Wanda's jeans. Your fingers made quick work of the buttons and zipper.

"Lift up for me, baby," You requested.

Wanda raised her hips, letting you slide the denim down her legs. You tossed them to the side, leaving her in her panties and her bra.

Natasha finally broke the kiss, and Wanda gasped for air. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, eyes scanning the younger woman's body. "And you taste so sweet."

Wanda blushed. "Thank you," She said shyly.

"My turn," You grinned, kneeling between her thighs.

"Your wife has good ideas," Wanda hummed.

You spread Wanda's legs for her, noting the wet patch on the front of her underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight.

"You've been wanting this for a while," You mused as you approached her. You used your knuckle to brush against the wet spot finding her clit with ease.

"Shit," Wanda gasped.

You smirked at the reaction.

"I'd ask you what you were thinking, but I think it's fairly obvious." You teased, rubbing slow, firm circles around her clit.

Wanda moaned, her body writhing beneath you. "F-fuck."

"Don't make her come so fast," Natasha warned as she pinched Wanda's nipples between her fingers.

"Sorry, babe," You smirked, pulling your hand away.

Wanda let out a soft whimper at the sudden loss of contact.

"We can't have that," Natasha purred. She moved her hands from Wanda's chest and slid her fingers underneath the waistband of her underwear. "Lift up for me, pretty girl."

Wanda obeyed, raising her hips once again. Natasha hooked her fingers around the fabric and tugged them down. She tossed them over her shoulder, her green eyes raking over Wanda's exposed skin.

"Fuck," Natasha muttered.

"What is it?" Wanda asked.

"You're just so... fucking gorgeous,"

"I didn't shave," Wanda apologized. "I didn't exactly plan for this."

"Doesn't matter," You shook your head. "Natasha, hold her." You raised your chin. Natasha immediately knew what you were asking of her. She moved across the bed and leaned back against the pillows and headboard. She patted the spot between her legs for Wanda to come and sit. Wanda leaned back against Natahsa's front.

You grabbed Wanda's thighs, pulling her down the bed and spreading her legs, her glistening pussy on display for you. You didn't hesitate to lean in and lap up her slit. Her taste exploded on your tongue, the sweet taste of her arousal coating your tastebuds.

"Fuuuuck," Wanda groaned.

"You're doing so good," Natasha murmured, her hands massaging Wanda's tits and belly.

You continued to lick her, her taste and scent surrounding you. You moaned softly, loving the way she writhed beneath you.

"Y-you're really good at that," Wanda panted, her body jerking and trembling. "MMM," She moaned softly.

You could feel her pussy getting wetter and wetter with each flick of your tongue.

"She's very skilled," Natasha chuckled.

"Oh, fuck," Wanda moaned, her head falling back. "Please."

You hummed softly, the vibration adding to her pleasure.

"Oh, please, oh," Wanda whimpered.

"She's really sensitive," Natasha mused. "Do you like that?" She asked.

"Y-yes, it feels amazing," Wanda stammered.

You smirked, swirling your tongue around her clit. Her thighs trembled in response, and you knew she was close.

"You don't know how long we've been wanting you," Natasha murmured into her ear. She nuzzled her neck with her nose.

"R-really?"

"You're gorgeous," Natasha murmured, her voice soft. "Of course."

"So are you," Wanda breathed.

"We could've done this so long ago," Natasha said, kissing her cheek.

Wanda didn't answer, and you weren't sure if she was even listening. Your tongue was buried deep in her pussy, and her legs were quivering. Natasha's hands moved to her thighs, forcing her to keep her legs open as you sucked her clit into your mouth.

"OH, oh, I'm going to..." She trailed off, her orgasm hitting her. Her body tensed, her legs trembling. You didn't stop, your tongue flicking over her sensitive nub.

"Mm," Natasha hummed.

Wanda's entire body tensed, and her back arched off the bed. You kept your tongue on her, tasting her orgasm as it flowed out of her.

"Shit," She panted.

"How was that?" You asked, finally pulling away.

"Good," She replied. "Amazing."

"We're not finished yet," Natasha said. "We're just getting started."

"You've been a really good girl," You smiled.

"Yeah?" Wanda asked, still trying to catch her breath.

"Yes," You nodded. "We've been talking about this for a while."

"You have?"

"Yes," Natasha smiled. "And now, you're all ours."

"Yes," Wanda nodded. She reached for you, pulling you to her and tasting herself on your tongue.

"I think she likes it," Natasha smirked.

"Yeah," You nodded.

"Can I touch you?"

"Sure," You shrugged. "Where do you want to touch me?"

"Everywhere," Wanda admitted. "Will you show me how to pleasure her?" She leaned her head onto Natasha's shoulder to see her eyes. The two of you shared a smirk. Wanda assumed that Natasha usually took a more dominant role in the bedroom. If only she'd seen you a couple nights ago, with Natasha begging you to fuck her as you made her come for the second time.

"Start with her neck," Natasha instructed. "And her ears. Those are two of her most sensitive areas."

Wanda followed her instructions. Her lips pressed against your neck, and her teeth grazed your earlobe.

"Mmm," You hummed, tilting your head to the side.

"That's good," Natasha praised.

"Do you want my shirt off?"

"Yes," Wanda nodded.

You reached down, pulling the shirt over your head. The cold air hit your bare skin, causing your arms and chest goosebumps.

"Now her nipples," Natasha murmured, watching Wanda closely.

Wanda nodded, her fingers finding your nipple and pinching it.

"Ooh," You gasped.

"She's more sensitive there than I am," Natasha explained.

"Not true," You moaned.

"Oh, hush," She smirked.

"Keep doing that," You urged as Wanda wrapped her lips around your nipple. You straddled her lap, effectively pinning her to Natasha as you looked into your wife's eyes.

"Look at her," Natasha smirked. "So pretty."

Wanda looked up at you, her lips still wrapped around your nipple. You cupped her cheek, smiling at her.

"Such a good girl," Natasha praised.

Wanda's eyes fluttered closed at the praise, her body melting into yours.

"She's perfect," Natasha murmured, her voice low.

"Mhmm," You agreed, running a hand through Wanda's hair.

Wanda's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin. She was so curious, so eager, and it made you smile.

"You're so sexy," Wanda said softly when her lips released your nipple with a pop. "Both of you."

"And so are you," Natasha cooed.

"You've got great boobs," Wanda hummed.

"Why thank you," You grinned.

"Do you mind if I kiss her again?"

"Go right ahead," Natasha replied.

Wanda pressed her lips against yours, her hands roaming your back.

"Do you want to touch her more?" Natasha asked.

"I think so," Wanda nodded. "But I don't know where to start."

"Just explore," Natasha replied.

Wanda's hands explored your body, her fingers tracing patterns along your skin.

"That's so good," You breathed.

"She's so responsive," Wanda smiled.

"Yeah, she is," Natasha agreed.

Wanda's fingers trailed down your stomach, her hand slipping into your pants. Her fingers found your pussy, sliding along the wetness.

"Oh, god," You moaned, your hips bucking forward.

"Does that feel good?" Wanda asked.

"Yes," You moaned.

Wanda's fingers moved up and down, sliding easily along your pussy. This was her first time touching another woman. She wanted to see and feel everything.

"Fuck," You breathed, your hips bucking.

"So wet," Wanda purred.

"Yeah, that's what happens when someone has you as a lover," Natasha said, her voice dripping with lust.

"Right there," You sighed as Wanda's fingers clumsily found your clit.

"Here?"

"Y-yeah," You moaned.

Wanda's fingers worked your clit, her pace quickening.

"Mm," Natasha hummed.

"F-fuck," You whimpered, your hips jerking.

"Good girl," Natasha purred.

Wanda continued her ministrations, her fingers rubbing your clit.

"O-oh," You moaned.

"That's it," Natasha encouraged.

Your thighs began to tremble, your orgasm building.

"C-close," You stammered.

"Come for her," Natasha said.

"Fuck, yes," Wanda growled.

"OH," You moaned, your body tensing as your orgasm washed over you. Wanda's fingers continued to work, her pace unrelenting.

"Fuck," You breathed, your hips grinding against her.

"That's a good girl," Natasha said softly.

"Damn," Wanda smiled.

"That was really good," You said, taking a moment to breathe.

"It was," Wanda nodded. She helped you pull the sticky underwear and sweatpants from your body.

"How much can you take?" You asked Wanda.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want Natasha to fuck you? Or do you want me to fuck you?"

"I don't know," Wanda admitted. "You choose."

"Hmm," You chuckled to yourself. You reached over to your nightstand, grabbed one of your favorite straps, and tossed it to Natasha. "She needs you."

"Is that so?" Natasha grinned, holding the strap-on.

"Yes," Wanda nodded, looking up at the redhead.

"How badly do you want it?" Natasha teased.

"I want it," Wanda answered, her voice shaky.

"Are you scared?"

"A little," Wanda admitted.

"We have you," You reassured her. Natasha removed herself from the bed to adjust the strap. It wasn't too big. Six and a half inches. It was perfect. She returned to the bed and kneeled between Wanda's thighs.

"We'll go slow," Natasha promised.

"Okay," Wanda nodded, taking a deep breath.

Natasha's hand slipped between her legs, testing her readiness.

"Fuck," Wanda gasped.

"That's good," Natasha smirked, pulling her hand back. "Ready?"

"Y-yes," Wanda said, nodding.

Natasha lined the dildo up with her pussy and pushed it in, her hands on either side of her hips.

"Oh, God," Wanda moaned, her eyes squeezing shut.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," Wanda whimpered.

"Just breathe, honey," Natasha cooed. From beside them, you offered moral support. You knew this feeling, and it was a good feeling.

"Fuck, it's a lot," Wanda panted.

"Do you need a minute?"

"No, keep going," Wanda urged.

Natasha obliged, pushing further into her.

"Oh, God," Wanda moaned.

"Good girl," Natasha murmured. Your eyes zeroed in on the strap pushing into Wanda's tight hole.

"Fuck," Wanda whined, her hips squirming.

"You're doing great," You praised.

"I know," Wanda groaned, her cheeks turning pink.

Natasha bottomed out, her hips flush against Wanda's.

"There we go," Natasha hummed.

"Oh," Wanda moaned, her body adjusting to the strap. Her clit brushed against Natasha's pelvis.

"That's better," Natasha smiled.

"Feels... different," Wanda admitted.

"Good or bad?"

"Just... different."

"You'll get used to it," You reassured her.

"Is that what it's like for you?" Wanda asked, looking at you.

"Sort of," You nodded. "But I usually have something inside me, too."

"Can I touch you again?" Wanda asked.

"Of course," You replied, spreading your legs.

Wanda reached over, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around it.

"Mmm," You moaned.

"You have a pretty pussy," Wanda cooed.

"Thank you," You blushed.

"Do you mind if I taste it?"

"No, I don't mind," You shook your head. You knew the implications of what she was asking and obliged. In one swift move, you were straddling Wanda's head. She used one hand to wrap around your thigh and the other to dig into Natasha's back as the other woman thrust into her.

"Ooh," Wanda gasped as Natasha's hips met hers.

"Mm, fuck," You whimpered as her tongue lapped at your pussy.

"Tastes good," She muttered.

"You're so good," Natasha purred, her fingers digging into Wanda's hips.

Wanda moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

"O-oh," You gasped.

Wanda's tongue flicked over your clit, her lips wrapping around it. You did the same to her earlier, and it drove her wild. She figured the same would be for you.

"Holy shit," You breathed, your hips grinding against her.

"Fuck, I can't," Natasha whined, her hips snapping.

"You're doing so good," You encouraged.

"Mm-hmm," Wanda mumbled, her tongue licking up your slit. If someone were to walk in right now, they'd either be horrified or incredibly turned on. The sound of the bed creaking against the floor and your mingled moans were the only things that could be heard.

"You're doing amazing, baby," Natasha praised, her hips moving faster and harder.

"You're going to make us both come," You groaned.

Wanda whimpered beneath you. She'd never experienced something as euphoric as this moment. Even if her neck strained and he tongue was tired, she was not giving up. She felt the delicious ache of the strap filling hr, and your arousal coated her tongue.

"Oh, god," You moaned, your thighs trembling.

"Fuck," Natasha growled, her hips thrusting.

Wanda's hands dug into your thighs, her nails leaving small crescent marks.

"I-I'm gonna," You stammered.

"Do it," Wanda murmured, her lips moving against your pussy. You came, reaching out to the headboard to hold you up as you thrust against her tongue. You tried to be mindful of the fact that she could suffocate, but Wanda only locked in more. She pulled you down, sucking gently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm. Not too shortly after, she was thrown into her own unexpected orgasm as Natasha thrust harder.

"F-fuck," Natasha grunted.

"Holy shit," Wanda whimpered, her hips bucking.

Natasha's hips jerked, her grip tightening.

"Shit," You swore.

"FUCK!" Wanda moaned, her legs trembling.

Natasha's body tensed, her thighs shaking.

"Oh, God," She groaned.

"Oh my," You breathed.

Wanda let out a shaky moan, her body writhing beneath yours.

"Wow," She whispered.

"You're doing amazing," You panted, climbing off her head.

"That was incredible," Natasha breathed, slowly pulling the strap out of Wanda's pussy.

"Thank you," Wanda smiled, her chest heaving.

"You're such a good girl," Natasha smiled.

"You are," You nodded. "I can't believe that was your first time."

"Really?" Wanda asked.

"Absolutely," Natasha replied.

"Well, I guess it was worth the wait."

"I'm sure," You laughed, crawling into the middle of the bed.

"Do you need anything, babe?" Natasha asked.

"Maybe a glass of water," You smirked.

"Okay," Natasha nodded. She kissed you and then kissed Wanda.

"You're going to stay, right?"

"If you want me to," Wanda smiled.

"We'd love for you to," You grinned.

"Then, yes," She nodded.

"Good," You smiled, kissing her gently.

"We're keeping her," Natasha said as she walked out of the room.

"Definitely," You grinned. "Can you go again?" You asked her as your hands trailed across her body.

"Y-yes," Wanda answered, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Good," You hummed, nuzzling your face in her neck.

"That was... wow," Wanda breathed.

"It was," You nodded, pressing soft kisses against her neck.

"I never thought I'd actually have sex with someone, let alone two people," She said.

"You haven't really dated before?"

"No," Wanda replied, shaking her head.

"We've known each other for a long time," You noted. "This feels natural."

"It does," Wanda agreed.

"It's like you're part of our little family already."

"I think so," She smiled.

"I'm glad you feel that way."

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #theloudhouseau

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