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annie-creates · 1 day ago

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The greatest mistake | Part 3

Pairing: Dain Aetos x Riorson reader

Genre: angst

Words: 2915

Note: Be aware there is a detailed description of self-harm. Get ready to feel some feelings in this long part. Please be aware not every detail might be completely true to the canon source material. Let me know what you think and if you want to be reminded for the last one!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

A month into the summer and everyone is still ignoring you. You’ve never seen Xaden hold a grudge this long, it would honestly almost impressed you, if his wrath wasn’t directed at you. The worst part was you were starting to see his point of view, and with the way he treated you, you started feeling like he’s right. Maybe you really weren’t worth even a glance to him. Maybe you weren’t worthy of your family’s name and role. Lucky for you you still had Violet and her friends, and your squad, but even surrounded by people you felt alone. You never knew how much you needed your family until you lost them all, only because of one stupid decision.

Things between you and Dain were strained. He tried to talk to you a few times, but you were adamant in not letting him back in. He hurt you beyond imagination and you didn’t know if you could ever forgive him. It was one thing to have the whole world hate you, but for your boyfriend, the one person who warmed their way into your guarded heart and you confided your deepest secrets and insecurities in them, to turn on you and twist a knife into your heart like the rest of them, that was a new level of pain you never wished to experience.

On one particularly hard evening, when you’re not spending the time with your squad, you pick up the switch blade with Tyrrendor emblems and your family’s crest engraved in the handle your father gave to you back when he started teaching you hunting. Would he even still want you to have it, or did you really tarnish his memory? You absentmindedly trace the relic lines on your forearm with the blade that leaves thin red line behind it, the pain taking over your psychological pain for a little bit. You breathed just a little bit clearer with the sting of the blade on your skin. Until there’s a harsh knock on your door and it swings open, showing Violet barging into your room without waiting for an invitation.

“Violet!” You shouted at her, hiding your arm and blade behind your back.

“What… are you doing?” She asks dumbfounded, her original reason for coming long forgotten as she watches you squirm, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

“None of your business. What are you doing here.” You carefully fold your arms over your chest, hiding the droplets of blood into your shirt.

“You can’t do that. Let me see.” She demands, sitting on the bed in front of you.

You give her an annoyed look but reluctantly show her your arm, the relic having almost a perfect, angry red shadow on both sides of every line. It looked almost like a page in a coloring book, intricate design of dark black and bloody red. Violet examines your forearm before slowly letting it go, looking for a first aid kit instead. You lightly trace the lines with your fingers, imagining the scars that will accompany the already existing ones over the relic. You’ve learned it’s actually easier and less painful to cut the natural skin and not the tattoo in itself, as if the mark tried to fight back and hurt you for it at the same time.

“You can’t tell anyone.” You warn Violet as she starts to carefully clean and wrap your forearm. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“Fine, but you have to stop doing this. I thought you were feeling better.” She sighs after a minute of contently watching you without a word.

“It’s hard.” You admit quietly.

“But you have friends, and…” You talk over her not letting her finish.

“They’re your friends. And even with people around, even the whole damn quadrant, I still feel alone.” You concede.

“Xaden should know you’re feeling like this.” She tries but shuts up at your angry look.

“Xaden doesn’t care. He hates me. I could die tomorrow and he wouldn’t even bet an eye, maybe would be even glad about it. Happy he doesn’t have to bother with me anymore.” You argue, tears stinging in your eyes.

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…” Violet clearly realizes that what she was about to say wouldn’t make the situation better, but it was too late to take it back.

“Disappointed? Ashamed? Let down? Pissed off? Yeah, I know.” You turn your sight down. “No need to irritate him further.”

You knew, even when he hated you right now, there was always a way to disappoint him further, and this was definitely something that would achieve just that. Xaden never believed in self-blaming, not for other people at least. He would hardly be able to sympathize with you, he wouldn’t pity you. He’d see it as another sign of your own weakness.

“You need to find a real friend of yours. Just one. And I won’t tell.” Violet promises.

You think about her counter for a minute, clearly unsure of it. You weren’t that interested to be establishing any personal relationships now to be honest, but if it meant Violet would keep her mouth shut in front of your brother and anybody else, it was worth a try, right? You give her a look of uncertainty.

“It could be Rhiannon?” She offers.

“Nah, she’s your best friend. And she’s a little too nosy.” You shake your head.

“What about Ridoc?” Violet guesses next.

“He makes fun of everything. I could never talk to him, really. Not about anything serious.” You ponder.

“What about Sawyer then? He’s smart, funny but serious, and can listen very well.” Her eyes sparkle as if she just found the perfect partner to talk to for you.

You try to come up with something wrong about him to reject that offer too, but you come up empty handed. He was actually smart and nice to be around, you suppose. He was a year older than the rest of Violet’s group, which gave him a certain level of maturity above them, but he wasn’t a dry prick. Sawyer did sound like a safe friend option, all things considered.

“Fine, I’ll make Sawyer my friend.” You finally agree.

“Great!” Violet celebrates as she finishes safely wrapping your hand and then points at her work and warns you. “And no more of this.”

You can practically feel Violet watching you like a hawk for the next couple days. You also know Xaden has noticed her doing so too, if the pissed look he has on every time she doesn’t pay attention to him but watches you instead is anything to go by. So you make a show of sitting directly next to Sawyer at lunch or in your study sessions, you always ask him about topics you don’t fully understand and you even spar with him on the mat sometimes. All the effort just to show Violet that you’re trying and she doesn’t have to tell on you to your brother.

Relationships are good for you. Your dragon reminds you, as if he didn’t tell you almost daily.

Yeah, the ones with the people I considered closest worked out great. You sass back, feeling lucky you were good enough at shielding to not let him know about your bad habits.

You had a feeling your dragon would flip out at you for harming yourself, and he’d definitely complain to Sgaeyl, and Sgaeyl would tell on you to Xaden and your hard work of hiding everything would go out the window. Honestly trying to be friends with Sawyer felt less and less like a chore, he was really a bright guy who you felt a real interest from. You started enjoying the late afternoon picnics where he told you stories about his family and home, and you were willing to share some of your own for the first time by the setting sun.

The transformation into the new school year was full of expectations and quiet hum of curiosity. Everyone was less stressed over the summer, but that would change with the arrival of new cadets, classes and challenges. You tried to be present in the conversations, pay attention to the jokes and light teasing, but there was always the little voice in your head telling you you’re not worthy of the group you surround yourself with.

In the second week of challenges you get paired with a particularly harsh opponent, a third year known for sending most of those who counter him into the healers wing. You hold your own, countering his strikes and attacks, but as he swings at you and you doge, you don’t notice him pick up his dagger until it’s swinging at your face and you feel the sting of the blade cutting your face and eyelid as you try to move away, holding the side of your face with a guttural scream that has everyone in the gym stopping in their tracks.

You kick him in the chest, both of you on the ground now. You don’t register much after that other than the primal drive to survive until the match is deemed tied and you’re stumbling back, holding half of your face in pain, until your back connects with a stone pillar. You’re hyperventilating, a panic attack rising in your chest as you clutch your eye, blood quickly dripping through your fingers. You hear Garrick, then Bodhi, and then even Xaden trying to coax you into slowing your breathing, but their touches only stress you more. Maybe a few months ago they’d be your saviors, but now they were nothing more than another deadly threat.

You don’t scream, but you’re lost in the survival drive, until Dain’s face is the only thing that appears in your limited line of vision, your one eye working hard to focus on his moving lips. It’s like your brain is shut off from all the other functions of your body, unable to connect one thing to another. You can’t focus on anything, not even being alive, and not a single thought flies through your mind. Lucky for you, your dragon’s voice is able to break through the fog.

Breathe. Listen. Focus. They’re trying to help you, my stubborn child. He orders you, forcing your focus on the face in front of you.

“Stop. Breathe. Slowly. In… and out.” Dain orders you matter of factly and it’s a stark contrast to the babying words the others tried to calm you with.

You try to follow his orders, your fast lungs and heart coming back to almost a normal pace as they mirror his own. He takes your free hand timidly, placing it over his own chest so you can feel it and match it with your own. His heart beats faster than it should, but it’s nowhere near your skyrocketing pulse. Your lungs slow down, allowing you to become aware of your surroundings.

“Good. Now let me see.” He says more nicely, holding the hand that clutches your face but not forcing it away. He waits until you show him yourself, slowly peeling your blood-soaked hand off. His other hand gently holds your chin to angle your face so he can see better. “It’s not so bad. I need to take you to the healers.”

And before you can register the change, he’s holding you in his arms, speed walking to the other part of the college. You don’t even utter a word, still in shock but also feeling safe in the embrace you longed for for so long. You’re set on the edge of a hospital bed, a young healers student taking care of your fucked up face. She washed the blood away and rubbed a stingy antiseptic in, neither making much to settle you. You felt your eye pulsing with every breath, it’s swollen form about twice the normal size.

“It seems your eye wasn’t affected, only your eyelid. And your eye socket might be irritated. After you let it heal you should be able to see.” She tells you, a heavy stone falling off your chest. “Hopefully the scar will heal too, but we will have to wait and see about that one.”

She adds as she puts a balm over the scaring and covers your eye and face with a big cushion bandage. You can tell she’s trying to sound positive and supportive, but it’s not really picking up your mood right now. At least you won’t go blind, you suppose that would not do much for you in the riders quadrant.

No it wouldn’t. No dragon can carry a rider who can’t see for themselves. Your dragon confirms coldly, his voice snappy at you.

Jeez, thanks for reminding me, you really are a sunshine. You roll your healthy eye at him. What an indispensable support you are.

I’m not here to support you but make you stronger. And that fight wasn’t your brightest moment. Was he really being pissed at you for almost loosing right now?

“Show me your hands please?” The healer asks you politely, cutting of your silent conversation. You show your palms forward in confusion. “I’ll need to cut this off to give you inner antibiotics.”

She points at the dressing over your left arm you forgot you were even still wearing until this very moment. You clutch your arm back, holding it with the other. You weren’t willing to let anyone else see your scars, imaginative or literal, much less someone you didn’t even know. For all you knew she’d go blabbering about it to whoever later and you weren’t fond of your secrets being dragged out by other people.

“No.” You simply shake your head at her.

“You don’t want to get any infections in, do you?” She warns you sternly. “You’ll have to stay here for a few hours with it.”

You challenge her hardened gaze for a while but lose the silent fight and defeatedly let her cut the bandage off. Dain, who kept lurking around and you were so far successful in completely ignoring, audibly gulped for his breath as he saw the obvious pink scaring around your relic. Luckily the nurse doesn’t even look twice before she goes to snatch all the supplies she needs now.

“What is that?” Dain asks quietly, as if afraid if you’ll even answer.

“What does it look like?” You mumble coldly not meeting his eye.

Lucky for you the healer comes back before he can get too pushy and guides you to lay in the bed as she puts a needle in your arm. As the antibiotics drip in, she smudges a balm over your scars. You’re weirdly appreciative of the gesture, and even more that she’s not nosy about how you got them. She has an air of understanding and calmness about her.

“She’ll need to have this applied again in two hours. It’s a double working solution.” She informs Dain and turns to leave for the last time before looking at you. “You can take the rest with you.”

Dain sits in the chair by the bed, reaching out to hold your hand but flinches when you take it back. For once you were grateful the bandage on your face covered a big part of your sight and you weren’t necessarily forced to look at him. After the weeks of him trying to reach you, you still didn’t know what to tell him, or if you even wanted to speak with him.

“Why are you even still here. Last time I checked you didn’t want anything to do with me.” You challenge him, finally looking at his worried face.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I never should have said that.” He starts apologizing.

“But you did. Saying sorry won’t fix that. It won’t fix the damage that’s already done.” Only if it was that easy to glue your broken heart back together.

“I…” His breath shakes. “I know, but I want to do everything I can, anything in my power to try and fix what I broke. I know you probably won’t believe me, but you’re my person Y/n. You’re the only one I care about, the only one I seek validation and comfort from.”

You shake your head, hiding the healthy part of your face in the pillow. You can’t look at him, you can’t think about all the things happening right now. You didn’t know what was hurting more, the deep cut on your face, the fact he left you, the fact he tried to come back with just a weak ass apology thinking it would fix things, or the fact he now knew about your deepest scars?

“That’s not what it looked like with your father.” You blame him quietly.

You didn’t realize you drifted off in his presence, but after a few hours you’re woken up by a calming cool sensation on your forearm. You open your one healthy eye to see Dain carefully applying the healing balm on your self harm scars, so focused on his task he didn’t perceive anything else. He gave you some gentle touches before, but he never touched you as tenderly as he did right now. As if you were a glass doll ready to fall apart if he grabbed you too hard. Like a delicate feather swept by the wind. Like he was afraid it’s going to carry you too far away from him and never give you back. But was there still anything to come back to?

Tags: @desprrssooo-espresssooooo @bellblake @lagrandeourse

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amirawrah · 2 days ago

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⭐︎ once in a lifetime... part four 🐻🤎🎨

staring: Wiliam 'wilo' Saliba x Ameerah Tamilore Adeyemi

summary: After attending an Arsenal match with her friends, she never expected to leave the stadium with a lingering sense of unfinished business. William Saliba saw her walk away that night, and he didn’t stop her—something he instantly regretted. When fate brings them back together at a party, their unspoken connection is impossible to ignore. As the night unfolds, stolen glances turn into quiet confessions, and what started as hesitation becomes something undeniable. But with emotions running high and unspoken feelings in the air, the real question remains—will they finally say what was left unsaid, or will history repeat itself?

amirah: hi guys, hope you enjoy this chapter. was kind of hard to write this one cause theres a mention of wilo's parents and stuff so i didn't want to be disrespectful you know. thank you for really engaging in this story 🫶, also there is subtle smut...

taglist: @snowseasonmademe @oceanfanatic06 @kj77 @muglermami @mariejuli @kbg96 @angryflowerwitch

previous chapter & next chapter...

Things between you and Wilo had grown... warmer. The kind of warmth that danced across fingertips during casual grazes. That soft, spark-filled silence after his lips brushed your knuckles or the apple of your cheek. He was sweet, always, and present—but the kiss never came. Neither did the question.

You told yourself it was fine. That this soft ambiguity, this space between something and everything, was enough. But you couldn't help wondering if he was ever going to let it be more.

He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to. Wilo had already started imagining a life where he woke up to your sleepy face, where you stole his hoodies without asking and filled his world with your laugh. But deep inside, something tugged at him. A fear that whispered:

“If you let her all the way in, what if she leaves too?”

He never talked about it much—not even to Gabriel, not Bukayo not really anyone. But when his parents died, something in him shut down. He told himself he had to be strong. And that meant protecting his heart from things that felt too fragile. Too temporary. Too good to be true.

One Late Night you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling, your room dim with the glow of your fairy lights. The thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning.

"Does he even want me? Or am I just something soft to come back to? "

Your phone buzzed, interrupting your spiral.

Wilo🐻: Can’t sleep. You up?

You stared at the message for a second before replying with a simple Yeah.

It started light—talking about random things. Music. His weird dreams. Your latest Pinterest board obsession. But your replies started feeling... distant. Faint. Almost like you weren’t fully there. And Wilo felt it too.

Wilo🐻: You good?

You didn’t even think. You just typed it.

“Do you want me?”

The silence that followed made your heart thump hard. You watched the dots dance and disappear. Then return. Then vanish again.

Finally, he replied.

Wilo🐻: “meerah, I care about you. So much.”

You cut him off.

“I don’t want to sound pushy. But we’ve been something for a while now and it doesn’t feel like you want to be real with me.”

Again, the typing dots. Again, nothing. You blinked down at your phone and scoffed softly.

“Sorry. Forget I said anything. It’s late. Goodnight.”

And with that, you turned off your phone and rolled over, trying to convince yourself that your heart wasn’t racing or hurting or both.

Meanwhile wilo stared at his phone like it betrayed him. He felt it. The shift. The quiet panic building in his chest. You were slipping. And it was his fault.

He’d been so scared to ask you to be his. So afraid that once you were, you’d realise he wasn’t enough. That you’d eventually wake up one day and decide to leave.

But the thought of losing you now?

That fear hit even harder.

And Wilo knew. He had to fix this. He had to fight for you before his silence became the answer that pushed you away for good.

The next evening you were leaning against the kitchen counter, dressed in grey sweats, a fluffy pair of socks on your feet, and a pint of cookie dough ice cream in your hand. Justine sat across from you, peeling a clementine, side-eying you with the kind of expression only a best friend can give.

"Okay. So… you just went to sleep after that?" she asked, genuinely flabbergasted.

You sighed, taking another scoop of your ice cream. “What was I supposed to do? Wait up for a response that wasn’t coming?”

Justine clicked her tongue. “No, but like… damn. He’s not giving ‘I don’t want you.’ He’s giving ‘I’m scared but still in love and trying not to drown.’”

You chuckled weakly, licking your spoon. “It just sucks. I don’t wanna push, but I don’t wanna be confused either.”

Before Justine could respond, your phone lit up on the counter— Wilo🐻.

Your heart jumped.

You answered, tone cautious. “Hey…”

“Hi,” his voice was soft but steady. “Can you come outside?”

You blinked. “Right now?”

Justine stood, already nudging you toward the door. “Go,” she mouthed.

You hesitated. “I’m in sweats. Lemme go change real quick.”

On the phone, you heard him chuckle. “No need. You'll still look beautiful,” he said. “Please. Just walk with me?”

And of course, you agreed.

You met him by his car. The evening was cool, golden light fading into that dreamy soft blue. You walked beside him in silence for a while until he finally spoke.

“My parents,” he began quietly, “they passed. Both of them. Not at once. But close enough.” He paused. “Since then, I’ve kept everything close to the chest. Especially the people I love. Because every time I give my heart to something, I lose it.”

Your breath caught at the word: love.

He didn’t look at you yet, but you could feel how raw he was. “So with you… I’ve been scared. Scared that if I pull you all the way in, one day you’ll wake up and decide I’m not enough. And I don’t want to feel that kind of loss again.”

You didn’t say anything. Just squeezed his arm a little.

Suddenly, he stopped in front of a place with soft golden lighting—an art studio. The sign above the door read “Clay & Soul.”

You blinked. “Wait—why are we here?”

He turned to you, taking both your hands in his. That same tender intensity from before. “Because you love art. And I want to be with you. And I thought maybe… this could be something we do together.”

You stared at him.

He smiled a little. “Come.”

Inside, the staff greeted him like they’d seen him before. “You’re on schedule,” one said.

You were led to a secluded, cozy space in the back—warm lighting, two wheels, and an open table with slabs of clay and tools. Wilo took an apron and tied his quickly, then reached behind you to help with yours.

“Let me,” he said.

His fingers brushed your waist as he looped the apron around, pulling the strings just tight enough to make your breath hitch. His hands were warm, steady, confident, lingering at your hips for a beat too long. You looked over your shoulder at him, and he was already watching you.

“Have you done pottery before?” you asked, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Arsenal youtube thing. I was ok". he said with a questioning tone. "but he clay didn’t respect me.”

You laughed. “I’ll guide you. I got you.”

And you did. He made a lopsided attempt at a mug. You made one too, yours slightly less chaotic, but the entire time was filled with giggles, flirty glances, and stolen touches.

When the pieces were finished, the staff took them away to fire and finish.

As you walked out, one of them handed Wilo a small red box. You tilted your head. “What’s that?”

He didn’t answer—just grabbed your hand, laced his fingers with yours, and walked you down the road to a quiet park. Only a few kids and dogs in the distance, and an old couple holding hands on a bench.

He led you to a wooden table and handed you the box.

You opened it, revealing a red velvet painting plate with gold lettering. veux-tu que je sois à moi parce que j'aimerais être à toi

Your heart fluttered. “It’s beautiful. I love it. But... I don’t speak French.”

“I know,” he said, stepping closer. “It means—would you want me to be yours, because I would love to be yours.”

Your breath caught again.

You stared at him, then laughed softly, nervously. “That’s… that’s a lot.”

He smiled. “So?”

You took a breath. “Oui.”

He grinned—and then he cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you.

Nice and slow.

Your heart bloomed in your chest. It was soft and deep, and worth every second you waited. His lips were warm, full, tasting faintly of mint. He moved against you with quiet passion, tongue slipping in just enough to make you sway into him. One hand stayed cradled to your jaw, the other around your waist, holding you like you might float away.

When he pulled back, he gave you a gentle peck before you could even process the moment. You turned your face away, overwhelmed and blushing.

But his fingers gently turned your face back. “Don’t look away, mon amour.”

Your phone rang.

Halle🍓.

You answered breathlessly. “Hello?”

“You eating dinner with us or with Wilo?” she asked.

Before you could speak, Wilo answered in a smooth tone. “She’s eating with me.”

You smiled into the phone.

Halle laughed. “Okayyy. Don’t have too much fun—”

You hung up before she could finish that thought.

Wilo raised a brow. “Too much fun?”

You smacked his chest playfully. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Wait,” he said—and before you could respond, he leaned in and stole another quick kiss.

You grinned.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you walked off toward the restaurant—finally, both of you ready to fall.

Justine and Halle were clearing the dishes, the lingering scent of curry and coconut rice still warm in the air as soft Afrobeats hummed through the speaker. They were mid-conversation, recounting Halle’s chaotic voice note exchange with her situationship when giggles echoed from the hallway.

Justine paused, her hand still holding a bowl. “I swear, if that’s—”

Halle didn’t even let her finish. She was already laughing, nearly dropping her water glass as she rushed to the front door like it owed her drama.

She pulled it open—and there you were.

Pressed close to Wilo in the soft, amber hallway light, the both of you lost in some moment that clearly only made sense to the two of you. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, your hand resting on his chest, heads leaned in too close for just friends. Both of you were giggling like school kids, and you didn’t even notice the door had opened until Halle cleared her throat—loudly.

You jumped slightly, straightening up while Wilo casually kept an arm around you like nothing happened.

Justine stood behind Halle now, both of them giving you looks.

Justine smirked. “Mmhmm. Laughing outside like a rom-com blooper reel.”

Halle leaned on the doorframe, folding her arms. “So how was dinner?” she asked with an arched brow.

You tried to hold back a grin. “Delicious. The steak was perfect.”

“Right,” Justine said, glancing at Wilo, who looked suspiciously proud of himself. “You sure that’s the only thing that was... well-done?”

You gasped dramatically. “oh god”

Wilo chuckled, holding his hands up innocently. “I promise I behaved.”

Justine muttered, “Barely.”

You nudged him. “You wanna come in for a bit?”

Wilo looked between the girls and then at you. “Non, I’ll let you.. debrief with your crew,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes but smiled, walking with him a few steps toward the elevator.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and whispered just for you, “Text me when you’re in bed, mon amour.”

You nodded, cheeks warm, and he pulled back, lingering like he didn’t want to leave.

Back inside, Halle had already flopped onto the couch like she was bracing herself for gossip. “Okay. Spill. Start to finish. No skipping.”

Justine was right next to her, pulling a blanket over her legs. “And don’t try and leave out the kiss part. We heard it.”

You held up your hands. “Okay okay! But y’all need to chill—”

“WE WILL NOT,” they both shouted in unison.

You grinned. This was gonna be a long night.

You plopped down on the armchair across from Halle and Justine, kicking off your shoes and curling your legs under you. You grabbed the throw blanket hanging over the side and tucked it around yourself, already bracing for the interrogation that was coming.

Halle leaned forward like a nosy aunt. “Start from the beginning.”

Justine dramatically grabbed a cushion and hugged it. “I want visuals. I want emotions. I want scent descriptions. Let’s go.”

You laughed, covering your face with both hands before peeking through your fingers. “Y’all are too much.”

They waited. Dead silent. Wide-eyed.

You exhaled. “Okay fine! So... yesterday night, he texted me—he couldn’t sleep and I was already in my head about everything so we had this talk, and I asked if he even wanted me... and it got awkward, but today... he pulled up outside the apartment and asked me to take a walk.”

Halle gasped. “Wait—unannounced??”

You nodded. “Unannounced. In my sweats. I told him I looked like a potato but he was like ‘you look beautiful’ in that accent, and—” You cut yourself off, putting your hands over your mouth again and squealing softly. “It was giving rom-com, okay?”

Halle sat up straighter. “Then what happened? Where’d y’all go?”

You looked between them. “A pottery studio.”

Justine nearly threw the pillow. “He took you to make pottery??”

“And he booked a private slot!” you added quickly. “We made mugs. He helped me with the apron... and whew—” You had to fan yourself at the memory.

“Girl.” Halle covered her mouth. “He was tying your apron like that?”

“Hands on my waist, breath on my neck,” you said dramatically, melting into the couch like butter. “He said it was his way of showing me he wanted me—like really wanted me. And then he took me to this little park and gave me a plate he had made that said veux-tu que je sois à moi parce que j’aimerais être à toi.” you tried to say in french.

Both of them blinked.

“What does that mean?” Halle asked.

“It means, ‘Do you want me to be yours? Because I’d like to be yours.’”

They screamed.

Justine jumped off the couch like someone lit it on fire. “YOU’RE LYING.”

“No. I have the plate.”

You reached for the bag and pulled out the little box, opening it so they could see. They gasped and stared at it like it was the crown jewels.

“That man is in love,” Justine whispered.

“And you said—what?” Halle asked. “Like how did you respond??”

You smiled, tucking your chin down. “I said ‘oui.’”

Both girls erupted again.

“And then we kissed,” you said through your smile. “Finally.”

Justine pointed at you. “I KNEW IT! You came back floating. Like your aura is glowing, girl.”

“And it wasn’t just a kiss,” you added, eyes wide, voice low. “It was the kiss.”

Halle blinked. “Like tongue?”

You nodded slowly.

They screamed again.

“Wilo said ‘mon amour’ and ‘don’t look away’ and I just—” You groaned, covering your face again. “I’m down bad.”

Justine sat back down with a satisfied sigh. “I’m proud of you. This is main character energy.”

Halle smirked. “So, y’all official now?”

You shrugged with a bashful grin. “Kinda... I think that plate made it clear. But we didn’t do the whole ‘will you be my girlfriend’ line. He just made it feel real.”

Justine clutched her chest. “That’s even better. That’s French. That’s cinema.”

You laughed, letting the silence settle for a second before grabbing your phone. A notification from Wilo.

Wilo🐻: Made it home safe ma belle. Can't stop thinking about that kiss.

You tried not to grin. Failed.

Justine saw it. “Is that him?”

You just smiled and nodded.

They both melted into the couch dramatically.

“God, I need a French boyfriend,” Halle mumbled.

The energy at the Emirates Stadium was electric that afternoon. You and Tolami made your way to the WAGs section, both of you decked out in chic fits that still had a touch of Arsenal spirit.

“Okay, this is going to be fun,” she said, looping her arm in yours. “I’m finally getting to show you off to the other girls.”

You smiled nervously. “Hopefully they like me.”

She gave you a look. “First of all, you're literally the easiest person to like. Secondly, you’re dating Wilo. they would love you, you'll see”

And you did.

After quick hellos and air kisses with some of the other girls, Tolami brought you over to a woman with long, honey-brown waves and a warm, knowing smile.

“Gabrielle, this is my bestie I’ve been telling you about.”

Gabrielle’s smile widened as she pulled you into a soft, welcoming hug. “Finalmente! You’re even prettier in person.”

You laughed, cheeks warm. “Thank you! You’re stunning.”

“I like your vibe already,” she said, linking arms with you as she slid over on her seat. “You sit with me.”

The rest of the match flew by. Gabrielle had the best running commentary and made you feel instantly comfortable. Sophia, Ana, and Milly all took a liking to you too. It was a group of beautiful, vibrant women hyping each other up, sharing snacks, and throwing inside jokes. Gabrielle even took a cute boomerang of you two cheering when Wilo made a crucial defensive play and posted it to her story with a cheeky: “Look who’s here 🥰”. You even managed to vlog a bit.

By halftime, you were already part of the Arsenal WAGs group chat — the name of which was hilariously titled VAR Queens Only — and they were inviting you to a casual brunch that Sunday.

Sophia: We do it every few weeks! You HAVE to come. You’re literally fam now. Ana: And I know Wilo will love seeing you get along with us 😌 Carol: You’re stuck with us now 💅

You glanced over at Tolami, who wiggled her brows and whispered, “Told you.”

You all took a group pic before the game resumed — a mix of duck lips, peace signs, and tilted heads .

You had just finished laughing at something Ana said when your phone buzzed again in your lap. You peeked down discreetly—it was a text from Wilo.

Wilo🐻: Wait for me in the box after the match❤️.

Your heart did that little fluttery thing it always did when he texted you like that—short, sure, and direct, but with that softness only you ever seemed to get. You smiled to yourself and quickly typed back.

Okay :) I’ll be here.

Tolami glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “Wilo?”

You nodded. “He said to wait for him after the match.”

Gabrielle smirked from the other side of you. “Ouuuh, he’s coming to fetch you like a proper man. We love that.”

The final whistle blew a little while later, the stadium erupting into cheers after a 2-1 Arsenal win against Wolves. You stood, clapping with the girls, the vibes absolutely perfect. The players waved at the stands, and you caught Wilo’s eye from the pitch. He tilted his head slightly and gave you that little smirk that only you knew meant see you in a second.

The rest of the WAGs began filing out, but you lingered back with Tolami. She nudged your arm. “I’m heading out with kayo, but call me later and give me the tea, okay?”

You grinned. “Obviously.”

Soon, you were alone in the luxury box, the noise of the stadium starting to thin out as fans exited. You walked over to the window, watching the field below, twirling a stray braid absentmindedly when you heard the soft click of the door behind you.

You turned around—and there he was. Still in his match kit, his curls slightly damp, cheeks glowing from the game, and a sheen of sweat still on his neck. He had a hoodie in his hand and his duffle bag slung over one shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, voice a little husky from yelling on the pitch.

You smiled and walked toward him. “Hey.”

He laughed softly and stepped closer, offering you his hoodie. “Put this on. It’s chilly out.”

You slipped it on without argument—it was warm and smelled like him. Like cologne, grass, and something woody. Comfort.

He looked you up and down with a soft gaze, then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for winning,” you teased, and he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the door.

“You hungry?” he asked as you walked down the corridor.

“A little.”

“Good,” Wilo said with a sly grin, his hand resting warm and steady on your waist. “Because we’re going to my place.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning a little sass. “Oh? And who said I cleared my schedule for that?”

He leaned down slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. “You wearing my hoodie already, mon amour… don’t act like you’re not halfway mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smirk gave you away.

ameerahsnarrative

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You kicked off your shoes at the door, the scent of something warm and woody in the air—cedar, maybe, and his cologne clinging to the walls. The house was sleek but cozy. Deep grays, soft lighting, vinyls and candles, plants in the corners. It felt like him.

“I’m cooking tonight,” Wilo announced, tossing his duffel by the stairs and disappearing into the kitchen.

You followed him, sliding up onto a stool by the counter as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge. “Really?”

He glanced back at you with a smirk. “Mhmm. I’m a full man.”

You giggled as he turned on music—some mellow French R&B—and moved through the kitchen confidently. He chopped onions, rolled up his sleeves, poured olive oil like he knew what he was doing, and talked to you like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Pasta okay?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

He poured you a glass of wine, then one for himself. The mood was slow. Warm. Intimate. He stood behind you at one point to reach something, and his hand grazed your back—lingering a second too long. He smelled so good. And that damn hoodie he gave you? Swallowed you up in the best way.

As the sauce simmered, he leaned against the counter, sipping his wine and watching you watch him. “What?”

“You’re just…” You trailed off, blushing.

He walked over slowly and stood between your knees, his hands resting gently on your thighs. “Say it.”

You inhaled, eyes locking with his. “You’re doing dangerous things right now.”

He smirked, leaning closer, brushing your hair from your face. “Then let me make it worse.”

And then he kissed you.

Finally.

Soft but intentional. Slow but certain. His lips were just as soft and full as you’d imagined in your daydreams. He kissed you like he wanted to memorize it. One hand slipped to the small of your back, the other cupped your jaw, deepening it.

You melted into him. Fingers gripping his tee. A low hum escaped his throat as your tongues met in a rhythm that made your head spin.

Then the pot bubbled over behind him.

He groaned, forehead resting against yours with a soft chuckle. “Dinner’s gonna burn.”

You laughed, breathless. “Let it.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Non, I want to impress you. Sit. I’ll finish.”

You watched him work—heart thumping, lips tingling.

Something was shifting. Something real.

You sat back down, still catching your breath from that kiss—lips tingling, skin warm. Wilo was stirring the pasta like he hadn’t just set your soul on fire five seconds ago, casually humming to the music like it was a normal Tuesday.

It wasn’t. Not even close.

A few minutes later, he plated the pasta—creamy, garlicky, sprinkled with parsley and shaved parm—then set the bowls on the small dining table near the window. He poured a little more wine into your glass and looked at you with that signature Wilo grin. “Bon appétit, ma belle.”

You clinked glasses and took a bite. “Wow, Wilo…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Good?”

“Ridiculously good. Like, are you sure you don’t have a side hustle as a chef?”

He shrugged playfully. “Maybe I do. Maybe you just bring it out of me.”

You both laughed, and the tension softened into something easy. There were still lingering glances, subtle brushes of fingers when reaching for the wine bottle, and the occasional bite stolen off each other’s plates. The kind of quiet intimacy that builds without trying.

As the meal wound down, Wilo got up to clear the plates. You followed with the wine glasses, placing them in the sink next to him. He turned to thank you, but before he could say a word, your hands found the hem of his shirt.

He stilled.

You looked up at him, voice soft. “Don’t overthink it.”

“I’m trying not to.”

His hand slid to your hip as he let you peel his shirt off. His body was warm, toned, his skin soft under your fingertips. He watched you like you were sacred. Then he gently tugged you closer by the hoodie you were wearing—his hoodie—and kissed you again.

This time, slower. Deeper.

Your hands were in his curls, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck. “Still want to impress me?” you teased, breathlessly.

He smiled against your skin. “Je n’ai même pas commencé” I haven’t even started.

You ended up in his bedroom—dim lights, record playing in the background. You stood in front of him, and he reached for your hoodie. “May I?”

You nodded.

He slowly pulled it off you, eyes roaming like he was seeing you for the first time. “Tu es magnifique…” he murmured.

You leaned in, cupping his face. “Then show me.”

And he did.

With lips, with hands, with every slow, heated movement. You didn’t just feel desired—you felt chosen. Cherished. Unrushed.

It wasn’t about the sex. It was about the connection. The way he made you feel safe while setting you on fire. The way his fingers laced with yours halfway through. The way he whispered your name like a promise.

Afterward, tangled in the sheets, his arm draped around you, Wilo kissed your temple and said softly, “I was scared before.”

You turned to him, heart thudding.

“But not tonight. Tonight I just knew.”

You smiled, pressing your forehead to his. “Me too.”

He whispered, “Then I’m not letting you go.”

And you knew—he meant every word.

The early morning sun crept in through Wilo’s curtains, painting soft golden lines across the bed sheets. Your legs were tangled with his under the covers, your head on his chest, and his fingers gently running along your back like he couldn’t get enough of your skin. The air still smelled like him—clean, musky, warm—and the room was silent except for the soft hum of the city outside.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you shifted a little, your thigh brushing against his.

Wilo opened one eye and smirked, voice husky and deep. “You trying’ to start something already bebe?”

You giggled. “You’re the one who keeps touching me like this.”

He leaned over and kissed your shoulder, then your collarbone, trailing soft, wet kisses until you turned to face him fully. His hand slid up your thigh, slow and teasing, while his lips met yours, deeper this time. You moaned into the kiss, fingers already in his curls, tugging him closer.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, slipping the strap of your tank top down your shoulder as he moved lower.

But just as he was about to disappear under the duvet—

Ping. Ping. PING.

Your phone buzzed loudly against the nightstand.

You groaned. “Seriously?”

Wilo sighed, face still buried near your ribs. “Ignore it.”

“I can’t—it might be work,” you said, reaching for it reluctantly.

But it wasn’t work.

It was chaos.

You had three missed texts from Justine, two from Halle, and the rest were from the WAGs group chat and some of your fashion girlies.

Justine🌪️ : “UHM HELLO?? WHO SAID YOU COULD BE FINE IN THAT BOX WITH WILO??” Attached: a Twitter screenshot with you and Wilo in the Emirates VIP box, leaning close, laughing.

Halle🍓 : “You really thought you could soft-launch and we wouldn’t notice??” Attached: a video someone posted from behind the glass showing Wilo pulling you into a side hug during the match. The caption: “Who is this?? Wilo finally got him a baddie fr 👀”

Then Sophia from the WAGs group chat dropped a bomb:

Sophia🫧: “You were SERVINGGGGG last night!! Also, your man looked obsessed, babe 😭😭” Attached: A HQ pap shot from outside the stadium, you and Wilo walking to his car, him opening the door for you with his hand lightly on your waist.

You blinked at the screen, jaw slightly dropped. “Oh my God…”

“What is it?” Wilo asked, pulling the covers back over both of you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You turned the screen so he could see. “We’re on Twitter.”

He squinted at it for a moment, then let out a low laugh.

You tapped through more comments under the video. Fans were already speculating—some surprised, some delighted, some trying to sleuth who you were. One tweet even said:

“Not Wilo being soft for a mysterious queen… I’m here for it 👏”

You laughed. “i just saw your comment on my post, so much for flying under the radar.”

He kissed your cheek and said, “Guess they know now.”

You turned to face him, phone still in hand. “What do we do?”

Wilo took the phone gently, placed it on the nightstand, and leaned back into you, his voice low. “We do this…”

He kissed your jaw, then your neck. “And then maybe brunch after.”

You giggled. “You’re ridiculous.”

He pulled the covers over your heads like you were in a secret little world, his voice muffled against your skin. “For you anything ma belle.”

You practically had to peel Wilo’s arms off of you when it was time to leave. He trailed behind you while you got dressed, offering distractions in the form of kisses to your shoulder and light touches that made it very hard to focus.

“je te veux,” he whispered last time, standing barefoot at the door as you pulled on your hoodie—the one that definitely wasn't yours.

You smiled at him, cupping his cheek. “I don't even know what that means.”

He groaned dramatically and pulled you into one last hug, arms tight around your waist. “See you later?”

“You better,” you teased, poking his chest before turning to leave.

When you got home, it smelled like vanilla and laundry detergent. Justine and Halle were already in the living room in sweats and messy buns, going over something on Justine’s laptop.

“There she is,” Halle said, lifting her brows. “Glowing like she just came back from heaven’s gates.”

Justine snorted. “Girl, just say it—you and Wilo definitely didn’t play Scrabble last night.”

You smirked, tossing your bag on the couch. “I have course work to do.”

“That’s not a no,” Justine said, eyes wide.

“That’s not a yes either,” you sang, already backing away toward your bedroom.

“GIVE US SOMETHING,” Halle yelled, throwing a pillow your way that barely missed.

“I mean… he cooked for me. And dessert was… chef’s kiss,” you said with a wink before slipping inside your room and closing the door behind you.

You took a deep breath once you were alone, the post-Wilo haze still lingering in your chest. Everything felt soft and slow, like you were floating. You dropped your keys on your desk and kicked off your shoes, walking over to your bed and grabbing your sketchpad.

You sat cross-legged, flipping to a blank page. Then you paused, remembering the way he looked at you—how his voice lowered, how his eyes searched yours, his thumb brushing your jaw as he looked at you

You exhaled softly, heart skipping, and let your pencil glide across the paper. A quick sketch of his profile. The curve of his smile. His eyes—sharp but warm. You shaded gently, adding the folds of his hoodie. Then, in the corner of the page, you scribbled:

"How does someone make you feel like art just by looking at you?"

And under it, smaller: “He does.”

You leaned back, biting your bottom lip to keep from smiling too hard. Then you carefully closed the journal, hugged it to your chest for a second and reached for your charger, just in case he texted again.

And sure enough he did

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tanobatcher · 3 days ago

Text

see you later

hunter x gn reader

summary: you’ve been lucky to befriend a certain group of refugee clones on pabu, with a special interest in the one they consider their leader. saying goodbye becomes difficult when you realize you don't want him to leave despite the circumstances.

warnings: nothing explicit but i might have snuck in a kiss 💋

a/n: i just finished my tbb rewatch and this idea came to me during s3 ep11 when they decided to leave pabu but obv this would take place before the empire came and fucked everything up!! bc imagine how cute it would've been if he met someone there omg :(

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

Rumor has it that your new friends won’t be around for much longer. Small whispers of people’s business always travel fast across this island regardless of whether or not the gossip is intentional. Sometimes, you overhear conversations that have nothing to do with you or your immediate circle. Other times, you discover that decisions relevant to the pit in your stomach have already been made without so much as a word in your direction.

Of course, they don’t have to tell you anything. From what you’ve learned about them, they come from wildly different lives than you. Something as trivial as your slight disappointment wouldn’t stop them in their tracks as a point to consider. But you know you’ll miss them when they’re gone. You wonder how long this farewell will last.

“Do you have a minute?” Someone asks you from behind, breaking you away from the conversation with the rest of the docks. It’s Hunter, for there’s no one else on this island who raises goosebumps across your arms at the sound of his voice like he does. You stay behind and let everyone clear out in slow waves until all that’s left is the two of you by the shore as the sun sets on the distant horizon. Finally, when the world feels quiet again, you turn around and look at him with a somber frown itching at your lips.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, already knowing the answer to your question.

He shakes his head, setting his jaw with a determined clench. “No. I’m sure you’ve heard, but I wanted to tell you that we’re leaving Pabu. Soon.”

You nod, trying to treat this like an inevitability and nothing more. “How soon?”

“Tomorrow,” he says, “Better to be quick about this…before it’s too late.”

You hesitate before stepping closer and taking his hand with a comforting squeeze. “You’re not a hazard to this place, you know. We’ve never had any reason to fear our safety here.”

“We can’t risk changing that,” he responds firmly.

The tired lines on his face begin to crease when he looks down at your joined hands, which feels retaliatory to your instincts. Your face warms as you pull away, unsure if this just crossed a line. It’s difficult to remember that you barely know him when the time you spent together thus far has felt so normal. That’s what being at home is like, though. And time is relative, especially when he’s brought more light into your life than anyone ever before. But right when you start to believe you can reach a deeper part of his heart, he decides it’s time to go. Perhaps he’s just too good to be true.

“I understand,” you hear yourself saying.

“Thought you would.”

You hug your arms across your shoulders as a slight breeze begins to pick up with the approaching nightfall. He watches you closely until you ask, “How’s Omega with all of this?”

His eyes soften at her mention, distracted from his constantly circling thoughts about her. “She was a little upset, but she’ll be fine. The kid’s tough.”

“Besides,” he meets your gaze, “This is necessary…for everyone.”

You nearly squirm under the pressure of his stare, still not completely used to his natural intensity. He’s a soldier, so different from your average self. Despite knowing what it feels like to lose your place in this galaxy and run away to the extent of your exhaustion, you can’t compare the degree of the events that brought you both here. Which is exactly why you need to feel okay with this. For them.

“Yeah,” you offer a shy smile, “And you’ll be back when things settle down again. Right?”

“I’m not sure if it’ll be like last time. We’ll have to see.”

“Right. Of course.”

Observing the lingering hope in your eyes despite your attempted acceptance of this uncertain situation, he sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t wait around for me. You’re better off forgetting we were ever here.”

His words hit exactly where it hurts, calling you out on the feelings you thought you were hiding so well. He’s smarter than that, though, quiet and calculating in every move that crosses his attention. But your pride can’t let you down just yet.

You fold your arms over your chest. “Who said anything about waiting?”

He smiles slightly, amused by how riled up you suddenly are. “Just thought I’d mention it.”

“Noted.”

That feels like the end of this conversation, but neither of you moves to leave. He doesn’t mean to push you away like this. He doesn’t want to, actually. You don’t realize that you—like the rest of this island—have been so good to all of them, almost enough for them to believe they have a chance at keeping the disillusioned normalcy they’re now leaving behind. Hunter never meant to lose focus, and he hasn’t completely. Grief and responsibility keep him grounded enough. But looking at you when you’re right in front of him, so open and pliable to his presence, feeds a tugging desire he’s not in a position to fulfill.

He opens his mouth to reply, startling into silence when you abruptly throw your arms around his neck and inhale deeply. His hands instinctively raise from his sides, hovering around your figure with surprise and hesitation. You assume he’s not going to reciprocate until you feel the weight of his palms flattening around your torso and the squeeze of his fingers that soothe your racing heart. The impending reality of his absence suddenly overwhelms you, extending beyond the fact that you’ll miss his company. You’re afraid of anything happening to him out there, not even knowing where he’ll be. He tells you not to wait for him, but maybe that’s all you can really do.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d really miss me,” he murmurs.

Your stomach flutters as his words melt into your skin, so close and exclusive to your ear. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tell him, “I might be too busy for that.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Wrecker’s not gonna be here anymore, which means more work for us. I’ll definitely miss him.”

“Right…”

You laugh at the skepticism in his tone and step back, nearly slipping out of his arms. But his hands don’t fully leave your body, keeping your fronts together as you search his expression for some truth. It’s not as obvious to the naked eye, but he liked it here. Not just for Omega, his brothers, or his entire family’s peace. For himself, too, even if that isn’t anywhere near his highest priority. Maybe he’s been catching his breath, only to feel winded by the coming change all over again. Maybe he’s been dreaming forward, just for his nightmares to follow his trail.

The humorous buzz drains from your spirit as you consider these thoughts, looking at him while trying to find the perfect consolation. But he doesn’t seem to need any of that. You’re not really sure what he does need, so you simply cup his face with careful and caressing hands that smooth over his scars. His eyebrows briefly furrow at the unfamiliarity of your gentle touch, but he doesn’t reject it.

“I wouldn’t want to think this is the last time I’ll ever see you,” you say quietly, “So…just make sure you come back.”

“I shouldn’t promise that,” he replies before clarifying, “For my sake, at least.”

“You don’t have to.”

Suddenly, you realize that your faces are much closer than they were just a few moments ago. It’s like you’ve caught each other in your orbits, gravitating towards a decision you won’t ever come back from. You don’t want to, though. Testing the waters, you lean forward until his mouth is just hovering over yours. His eyes widen in response to the kiss you softly press to his parted lips, and his subtle surprise remains when you pull back just enough to see him again. He regains his composure quickly, though, almost smug in his returning smile.

“What was that for?” He rasps, sliding his hand up your back.

You’re breathing the same air now, noses touching and foreheads resting against each other. Swiping a teasing finger across his cheek, you reply, “For good luck.”

He makes a “hm” sound under his breath before dipping his head to kiss you on his terms. It’s clear he’s in control as he tilts his head at a sharper angle, and all you can do is just follow his lead and hold onto him for stability. His shoulders are hard in your hands, but his lips are soft against yours each time he coaxes a quiet gasp from the many noises you imagine you can make for him. The kiss eventually pauses, and you run your hands across his upper back while drowning in these last moments with him.

“Now I really can't say goodbye,” you confess, avoiding his gaze.

His fingers find your jaw, pushing slightly so you’re looking at him again.

“See you later, then.”

Your eyes round from the unexpectedness of this response, as it feels a lot more playful than his usual demeanor. But when he smiles reassuringly, you can only smile back and wrap your arms around him in another embrace. Resting your chin against the crook of his neck, you look out into the ocean behind him and linger with the setting sun. There’s only a little bit of orange left in the darkening sky, but the morning will return tomorrow. The day after that, too, and you’ll see him eventually as if the time hardly passed. The minutes, hours, or complete rotations won’t matter. Because you’ll be right here, thinking of him until this constantly moving galaxy decides to let you catch up.

#clone x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #the bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #hunter bad batch #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb #star wars tbb #star wars clones #clones #the clone wars

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ashyblondwaves · 17 hours ago

Note

i just read "bloom" and pleaseeee 😭 you need to make it a longer fic it was too good and also short

Aww, I'm so glad you liked it! Thanks for stopping by to request more. I decided to strike while the iron was hot and got another 1100 words for ya! Enjoy :)

Part 1: Bloom

Blossom

She settles at the kitchen table, legs tucked underneath her like she’s trying to take up as little space as possible, which is ridiculous considering she’s all I have eyes for right now.

I follow behind her with the tea. Hers is honey and chamomile, and mine, well, whatever was left in the tin. I think it’s peppermint. I set her cup down in front of her, careful not to spill, and try to ignore how my hands are still a little shaky.

She doesn’t say anything right away. Just tears off another piece of bread and chews. I sit across from her, and for a moment it’s quiet in a way that feels deliberate, not accidental. I’m not worried that she’s retreating back into her shell. I’m simply waiting for the next quip that I know is coming.

“This is good,” she says finally, gesturing toward the loaf like it’s responsible for everything unfolding between us.

“Making it helps me think,” I saw with a nod.

“About what?” she asks, staring into my soul.

You.

But I don’t say that. Not yet.

“Things,” I hedge. “Dreams. What’s real and what isn’t.”

She hums. Her eyes drop to the cup between her hands. “Sometimes I still think I imagined you saying you wanted me to try harder.”

My chest tightens in that familiar way. The mix of tenderness and grief and awe that always shows up when she gives me even the smallest piece of her.

“Sometimes? How often have you thought about it since I said it five minutes ago?” I chuckle.

She takes another bite of bread, chewing thoughtfully. “A lot.”

“Well, you didn’t imagine it,” I say. “And I meant it.”

She nods, just once, like she’s locking that truth away somewhere safe. Then she glances up, expression unreadable.

“So if I keep showing up like this, being present,” she says slowly, “Will you let me?”

I smile. I can’t help it. It’s like something finally unclenches in my ribs.

“Yeah,” I say. “Every time.

She doesn't smile back, not exactly. But she takes another bite of bread, and her foot nudges mine under the table. It’s light, like a dare.

And I swear the world tilts just slightly toward the good.

Later, when the sun has sunk low enough to stain the windows gold, she stands. Her mug is empty. The bread is mostly gone. I expect her to murmur a quick goodbye, maybe head back to her room in that quiet way she does.

But instead, she glances toward the door.

“Want to take a walk?”

“With you?” I blink.

“No, with the bread,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

We don’t say much as we head out. The path is familiar, worn down by footsteps, memories, and ghosts. She doesn’t reach for my hand, and I don’t reach for hers, but we stay close. Closer than we have in a long time. Our shoulders nearly touch with every step.

Everything has regrown in strange ways, wild and unruly. Nature doesn’t care what burned. It comes back anyway.

Katniss walks ahead a few steps, then drops into the grass like she belongs to it.

I follow, slowly folding myself down next to her. The breeze carries the scent of nature and sun-warmed earth.

“I used to come here,” she says, her voice barely above the wind. “During the war. In my head, I mean. I’d try to remember how the light looked on the grass. How it felt to lie down without anyone watching.”

I look at her, but she’s staring up at the sky like it might tell her something important.

“I used to dream about this,” I admit. “Us. Just being able to take a walk like this. After everything.”

Her eyes flick to mine. “Were your dreams anything like this?”

“No,” I say honestly. “They were quieter. Idealistic stuff. But you? You were just as sharp as ever.”

She snorts, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“You liked that about me.”

“I still do.” The words escape before I can stop them.

She doesn’t flinch. Just turns her head toward me, and something about the way the sun kisses her cheekbones makes me dizzy.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she says.

“Me either,” I say softly. “But we’re here. That’s something.”

A beat passes. Then she shifts, slow and deliberate, until her head is resting lightly on my shoulder. Her hair brushes my neck. My heart starts hammering again, but I don’t move. I don’t breathe too deeply. I just exist.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like enough.

Soon, the sun sinks behind the trees and shadows stretch across the meadow like they’re exhaling. Katniss hasn’t moved from my shoulder, and I haven’t asked her to. I’m not sure I could, even if I wanted to.

There’s something steadying about the weight of her, the quiet rhythm of her breath against my shirt.

Crickets start their slow, sleepy chorus. The stars blink awake overhead.

She shifts eventually, just enough to tilt her face up toward mine. Her eyes catch the last of the light, all storm cloud gray and impossible to look away from.

“I keep thinking I should be better at this,” she murmurs.

“At what?”

“This,” she says, gesturing between us. “Being with someone. Saying what I mean. Letting someone stay.”

“You don’t have to be good at it,” I whisper. “You just have to want to try.”

She studies me like she’s memorizing my face. Like she wants to carve this moment into her mind in case it disappears.

And then, careful and unsure, she reaches for my hand in the grass. Her fingers graze mine, tentative at first, like she’s afraid I’ll pull away.

I don’t. I won’t.

I lace our fingers together slowly, and she exhales like she’s been holding her breath for years.

Her palm is warm. Her grip, a little shaky.

I let myself look down at where we’re joined, and for the first time since everything shattered, I feel whole.

When I glance back up, she’s watching me.

And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, she leans in and presses her lips to the corner of my mouth. Not quite a kiss. Not yet. But a promise. A beginning.

When she pulls back, she doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t have to.

The stars stretch wide above us. The world keeps turning.

And she’s still holding my hand.

#everlark #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #i write shit #fanfiction #asks #prompt request

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cuntressgoingdigital · 3 days ago

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hi hi it’s og anon who begged for more mma!abby - will have to come up with a name/emoji for myself (if you do emoji anons that is) bc i have so many thoughts <3 personally im thinking ab the scene in super rich kids where r and abby sneak off and abby gets sooooo shy when r goes down on her. like abby is a baby gay. never been with a woman, and it seemed like that really wasn’t something she considered up until recently. i love to think about abby growing more confident as the weeks/months go by - where she doesn’t feel so shy when you’re in control and she feels more comfortable being in control. she’s so dominant in the octagon and at first that didn’t really transfer over. but like all athletes: if she wants something, she’ll work hard at it, and she definitely wants you

ps im thinking of signing off as 🪷, thoughts?? pls tell me if im being annoying 😭

omg ofc i dont mind emoji anons!! i'm so glad you enjoyed it enough to actually send an ask <3

but, on that note! let's talk about the first time you and abby had sex after the party

cw: nsfw (obviously)

click here for my series masterlist.

i imagine it’s soooo hard for her to acclimate to her feelings. i doubt she ever brings up the fact that she’s never been with a woman, and you don’t feel a need to ask. all the pressure and embarrassment she feels is entirely of her own creation.

she’s mostly scared of disappointing you. after all the strife you went through trying to get her attention, she didn’t want it to all be in vain. at this point, outside of what went down at the party that night, all that had happened was private flirting while the two of you were on opposite ends of the world. when your schedules finally line up and you invite her to your house for a few days, abby knows she has to get her shit together. the only issue is, there’s not really a way to study for these sorts of things. she knew what she liked, but that was about it. there was no one for her to ask or confide in, so she’s battling this demon all on her own.

when the time came and you sat on the edge of your bed, carefully clipping your fake nails off and filing them down, abby knew it was now or never. she awkwardly excused herself to run to the bathroom and sat in there for nearly ten minutes trying to gather her bearings.

the sight she saw when she stepped back into your bedroom made her heart stop. you were in the prettiest black lace lingerie adorned with bows and the sweetest smile on your face.

“you alright?” was all you felt comfortable asking. you didn’t want an already obviously tense situation to turn into something worse because you decided to pry a little too much. you can’t scare the poor girl off.

abby nodded and moved to approach you. she felt ridiculously underdressed in her grey sweatpants and black t-shirt, but had a sneaking suspicion that that was the last thing on your mind.

this time you knew you had to allow her to assume the dominant position first. well, dominant is a stretch, because you knew you had full control over the situation. there was no way that girl was going to do anything without you asking (read: telling) her to, but you figured the illusion of control would help her work her way towards actually being confident in this position.

when she carefully slides her two fingers inside of you and feels how wet you are, she finally feels focused. in her world, this was the equivalent of touching gloves at the beginning of a match.

she was dialed into every single noise you made. every moan, whimper, and swear that came out of your mouth was an affirmation that she was doing something right.

the second you whisper, “now, curl your fingers inward.” she does just that. any and all instruction you gave was immediately applied. you had to give the girl some credit. she was a fast learner.

when your breathing picked up and your head was thrown back against the pillow, abby took it as a sign to pick up her pace a bit. her thumb brushed your clit and you whined,

“more of that. keep doing that.”

she nodded wordlessly, absolutely terrified that anything she might say would ruin the moment.

when you’re finally panting and breathing out her name in between a slew of swears, she knew you were close. the feeling of you finally clenching around her fingers and releasing had her feeling a high almost comparable to a win in the octagon.

over the next couple days that you’re together you two are fucking like it would be the last time you ever got to touch each other. to be fair, you honestly didn’t know the next time you’d have the time to come see her. dinner reservations were cancelled in favor of laying on top of each other, sweaty and sore, after another intense round of sex. you had made her cum more times in 48 hours than anyone had in her entire life. this was a far more pleasurable experience than any training retreat she had ever been on.

by the end of it, abby felt like a pro. she knew exactly how to read your body language and what pleased you. even better, she was actually able to laugh during sex. no awkward moment lasted very long because the two of you would always bust out laughing by the end of it.

“how the fuck does this even work?” abby was standing by your bedside fumbling with the fasteners of the strap on.

you laid on the bedside, doing your best to inspect the buckles. “i don’t fucking know, i just bought it.”

the two of you spend so much time giggling that it takes at least twenty minutes for you both to calm down and get back to the task at hand.

and let me tell you, this girl is a strap warrior. this is where she feels the most in control. buried deep inside of you, chest pressed against yours, your now blunt nails digging into her back. she loves looking you in the eyes. one of the only times you’ll pout and look away, feeling some semblance of shyness.

when all was said and done, the both of you packed your bags and took a taxi to the airport together. she was on her way back to salt lake, and you were on your way to LAX for your layover on the way to tokyo.

you entered the airport at 4AM, hand in hand, and gave her a kiss that you wished would last for ages. neither of you wanted to let the other go.

“text me when you land, okay?” you blow her one last kiss.

unfortunately, neither of you realized someone in the airport had recognized you and snapped a photo. every tabloid magazine would be up your ass for the next week, but it was worth it.

#nisa answers #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n

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thatfrailsoul · 3 hours ago

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– I think I dreamed you into life

Divinatory Jukebox: “I Knew I Loved You”, by Savage Garden.

tarot pick a pile reading → one, two, three

Those eyes, those smiles, that sweetest smell once they let you closer… A face that you could recognise in an instant, even though it never was caressed by your gaze before. A voice that you can almost hear, as you are walking through this life, one step after another, devouring the distance and the time keeping you apart… All of it, every single detail, feels more like a memory, rather than imagination and desire to find that someone. It seems more like a fate that is taking a little longer, a secret that you somehow know and await to manifest. Something that, each day and instant, is whispering to you sweetly about all those moments your hearts are destined to share. But there is a missing peace in there somewhere. A detail they don't mention, leaving it all to your imagination and dreams. But it is so important… to know when and where your encounter will be, and what to do in the meantime… isn't it?

There is a little spot in your heart, buried under all the emotions, all the memories of people that were once there, and those that stayed… There is a little corner that is still not filled, that nothing and no one really fits. Almost like it's being saved for someone special, without you knowing a thing. A little surprise, a gift, something so precious that the life itself can’t resist the urge to give you clues and signs about them. About that one person that stands out so much among the others, with so many threads of destiny that are pulling you closer. A lover, a friend, a mirror of your own soul, made of the same stardust that birthed you into this world... There is someone, out there, that you still need to meet, and yet every inch of you already knows them. You feel them, you know they are coming, that your paths will soon cross each other.

So slow down. Calm your breath, your heart, your mind. And pay attention, listen closely, to the message that the pile that is calling you has for you right now.

p.s. There is a way to keep the messages of the universe much closer. A little box of treasure with all the guidance, all the advices, secrets we discover… A way to find my readings right in your inbox, where they are safe, all yours, and you can savour each word with your own rhythm, whenever your heart wants it… Through my free newsletter to which you can subscribe right here, obviously only if you want to.♡

p.p.s. Which pile you felt called by? Let me know, or follow me for more readings like this one.♡

– Pile One,

the stork: the two of cups and the three of coins

The voice of your tired and lonely mind is so loud lately… So motivated and persistent to let you know that it will never happen. That there aren't people that are so perfect as you imagine them, not even you compare to the one you envision… The one you feel so real only when you dream, eyes closed, with heavy breathing, as you search for them through your unconsciousness, the only light among all those nightmares, and the only place they seem to live in…

One after another, so many faces, voices, words… and not even one seems to be the one. So you are starting to think that perhaps you should just accept it and stay still, finding enough in those that are around you… But then again you are overwhelmed, like in a fever, with all the details about them that you already love so deeply, that start to feel more and more like memories, and not only what you dream of, not something that is so easy to forget and give up.

There is a constant battle within you. The cold reality and pure need to feel that warmth of a connection that is deeper. The mind that is ready to give up, that feels ashamed and even guilty for nurturing for so long a dream that never became more real… And a heart that knows, somehow, that it is possible, that it is worth to believe in and wait for it, that you can't be the only one to long for such connection, and thus you should be able to find it, to find them, sooner or later.

But even if it is so… There is no need to consume yourself so much for it. To fight so strongly, to exhaustion, for something that will either way find you, even if you will not do every single thing to make sure it happens, or perhaps to force it.

This soul, whoever they are, or whenever they are now in this moment… they exist, you know? They are living, breathing, moving through their days and journeys. They are writing their own story, their chapters, their slow or fast moments. And with each decision, with each step, they are following that thread that pulls their hand tenderly but so reassuringly, showing them the right and safest way. A way to find you.

So please breathe. There is no time running out, chances missed, or obstacles not avoided. There is nothing between you if not just life. The journeys, the stories, that you need to live on your own first. Before sharing another one with them, side by side, exactly like you hope for. There are just things that you need respectively to experience, to create. The things that only you or them can manifest. You can’t do everything on your own, speed up the process, find the right path, and run right away to that person. And it makes you feel hopeless, just because you think that these things are the only ones that could give you reassurance, be those signs that everything is going well, that this dream is still possible… But you don't realize, in this frustration, how many confirmations and signs are here already. In you and in the reality around you. In your growth, in your confidence, in your courage to be honest about whom you want to walk on your journeys with, and the confidence to say it out loud, to not settle for someone that you don't feel right and aligned for the life you want now. You see only connections that won’t work, people that leave, the emptiness around you. And not the space that they are making for someone else, right by your side, giving you the real chance to welcome them in your life once you will find each other.

Give them and yourself some time, some space to live your separate stories. Focus on your journey, on the things that you desire to experience, to do, to make, but put on hold just because there isn't someone to witness it, to enjoy them with you, to appreciate or admire it the same way you do. Don't bottle them down, don't write those endless lists of what you would do once you have someone to share it with. Just do it for yourself, now, when you the most want it.

Follow your mind, not only the heart's calling. Give it something to love and to be nurtured by too, now, so it can calm down and stop being so judgemental of your heart’s desires and whispers about someone that is not here. Fill your life with joy, with appreciation, with true presence. With healing and growth. And those things that you will finally feel and live, not those that you need to, but those that you want to, will be the ones to guide you faster to the one you are hoping to find one day. Because the things that connect you are not the choices about the work, the place where you live, how you dress, talk, or look at others. How many things you want to do with that someone, or how many plans you have prepared for the moment you will be in front of each other. No, a connection like this goes right through your hearts, somewhere deeper, stitching you through all those things that make you both bloom with love and joy, not for someone else, but for the world around you.

p.s.

buy me a tomato 🍅 (if you want to)

– Pile Two,

the garden: the wheel of fortune and the stars

It is so interesting to have you here… Glimpsing silently into a story that is not really about you, but that you would like so much to live just to don't feel so strange and different for not having it… For not having that love, that someone special to run towards.

You are here, reading these words, looking for the answers to the questions that you don't even ask yourself, just because others made you feel like it is wrong, to find enough in just your self, in not needing someone else’s love to surround you and nourish you to help you heal and grow.

But… You are not wandering lonely and pointlessly around now. You are living. Experiencing this life, these journeys. You are becoming more and more you, with each step. Shedding the past, healing the wounds, creating space for the real you to bloom. And... it is not useless, it is not wasting your time, being too isolated, egocentric or antisocial. Just because you are not looking obsessively for someone to hold your hand, to warm you up, to love you… Just because you are finding it all in your own self, looking first in your own eyes, trying to understand that soul in the reflection of a mirror, instead of seeking someone else's gaze in hopes to find in there any answers.

So many of us heal, discover our true self, through the connections with others. Through their opinions, their actions, their decisions… And how they makes us feel, what they force us to feel, not leaving any room for hiding or second-guessing. And it is right. In the good and in the bad. It is normal and needed to have someone that shows us who we are, how much we are deserving of love, through giving it to us or by denying it... But it is also okay to understand it all on your own. To feel all of this within, growing and healing through a connection that is much deeper, hidden inside, and not somewhere out there, in another soul that you need to meet in order to realize it.

There is no need for judgement nor any forcing, there is no need for you to wait to feel and create precious moments just because so many souls want to do it with someone. You can do it on your own. You can be the love of your life, the closest and dearest soul. You can be the one that you share the deepest bond with. The one that you will never be not mesmerized by. The one that you could never forget, never stop believing in. The one you can't wait to meet, some day, looking in the eyes of who you will become, feeling their love and understanding overwhelming your soul.

You can do it. Even if some dream of a perfect love, or others are longing for a true friend… You can do it differently, you can feel the closest to the person you will become one day, feeling complete already, not waiting nor looking for anyone else. Because this is who you are, this is what your soul truly wants. Who it is truly looking and calling for. And it is more than enough.

p.s.

buy me a tomato 🍅 (if you want to)

– Pile Three,

the scythe: the page of cups and the six of swords

In a sense… they already saved you. Not by being in your life, right here by your side. Not by holding you, hugging you, protecting you from this world. Not by whispering to you sweet and comforting words… But by just being a possibility. The chance itself that there is someone, somewhere out there, who would understand you right after the first glance, feel you after the first smile… It was enough to save you. To save yourself in the meantime.

It might not be ‘’ideal’’, the healthiest, the most romantic and heroic way to survive… But it is the reality. In which, sometimes and for some reason, we do feel alone and vulnerable, in danger even, among the people that we trust our heart with, after they scratch and crush it... And we do need to hope that there is someone different out there, to give us the strength to go through it, when our own love is not unfortunately enough to make it.

There is nothing strange or shameful in this. In giving yourself hope, someone to believe in, even if you don't know yet the sound of their voice. And in surviving for them, for a chance to meet them and be with them. In looking for them in the eyes of others, sometimes believing that you finally found them, convincing yourself a little too much perhaps, just to be hurt once more, when you didn't expect it anymore… It is fine. It is all okay. You are not delusional, your head is not too much in the clouds, your heart is not too romantic for the harsh reality of how the relationships are becoming now. You are not too naive because of your belief, or too egocentric when you choose it over some poorly made promises of those that never deserved to come so closely.

We all have someone, someone that we connect with so deeply, understand so naturally, so easily as breathing. And that's it. This is the truth. But some people believe it and some don't. Some know it from the beginning, others forget about it or refuse to hope for it. And some… learn and understand it amidst and despite everything. Exactly like you did. Choosing to focus on this thought, on this feeling, rather than the bad endings of the stories that everyone is so fast to believe in, surrendering to it.

They exist. Many of them. All the souls that you will feel finally safe and at peace with. And each your breath, each your step and decision, is already guiding you to them, exactly like it is supposed to be. You just need to remind it yourself, for a moment. Now that the life seems a little too stagnant, a little more cold and lonely, with all those judgemental voices screaming so loudly. Don't look at them, don't listen. Turn around, focus your gaze on your direction, your goals, the things that you believe in. Let them stay behind, becoming more and more indistinguibile, in their assumptions, and inability to have peace when someone still has hope for being loved and appreciated. It's their way of thinking, their experiences, their choices. They don't influence you, or your own journey. Nor the one of the souls that are looking for you, as you dream about them, hoping.

p.s.

buy me a tomato 🍅 (if you want to)

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sweetangle8 · 22 hours ago

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Bitter and bloody AU

Contacts: so I’ve had this AU for like a year and a half in the making I have never really shared it to nobody but now to my moots and they really liked it so I wanna share it to others to want to know if they like it so this is you is like would’ve bittersweet and then off in a much more darker and much more creepy than it’s more of a really fucked up bad ending kind of

TW: Mentions of Self harm kind of religious motive kind of weapons and blood and mostly very heavy topics with mental health issues and horror image

I don’t know if I’ll make a whole fanfiction about this but these are some like ideas and head cannons I have about this au

The start: Like a little au bittersweet that instead of you know Finn coming into the picture sugar boo actually kills Derek, and instead of you know, Derek die normally he pass his way he instead you know, haunts the listener, and the listener has to deal with him because he’s now “ you kill somebody you’re just like me for real “ and they have to deal with him, torturing them pretty much being stuck in their head without leaving and they can’t tell both of the boys because they don’t know how to explain how this happened and they’re just stuck with this annoying ass guy the entire time torturing them because they killed one person and they’re just basically haunting him and the listener doesn’t know how to explain the boys because how do you explain to somebody that a ghost is torturing you

Why he plans to make sugar boo like fucking miserable and they have to deal with him like he’s a constant nightmare. I have a audio about this.

And they start becoming slowly more miserable like they were once a happy little sunshine and now they just wanna beat the shit out of everybody. I don’t know what’s with me wanting to make sugar boo the most miserable person in the world, but I really like this. I don’t know why maybe is it because I don’t like much of the end then yes and no

Like I can imagine him appearing in the worst times just to make sugar booze, life fucking miserable just reminding him that “hey you killed a person when you said you wouldn’t do that” and they they’re just trying to make it in their head too. I’m a good person just because I did this doesn’t mean I’m not a bad person. I’m a good person and trying to reassure themselves that they’re not a bad person but they think they are a bad person and they don’t know how to tell the boys because how the fuck are you gonna tell people I’m being haunted by a guy, and I feel like the most miserable person in the world.

Like psychologically like they look like they’re fine physically they’re fine. They’re standing they pretending to be the sweet little cinnamon roll that they are but inside every time you look at the mirror at night, they just see him in the back like staring at them and he has like. Warning for blood. ||He is like the blood running down his face and everything. He looks all fucking fucked up and it’s like uncanny Valley type of thing.||

Thank you! P0tion_Alb For giving me this question

I mean, yes and no like in the back of my head it would be a good thing but in the back of my other head, I’m like it would be more fun for me to make them fucking miserable and they have this as a secret until like they finally break like at that point they find them having such a bad mental breakdown that the boys are just fucking confused Because their partner has been fine and dandy, a nice little cinnamon roll. They always been just to find out that this guy has been haunting them for like over a year.

They gave me this idea and it’s so good

Like I think about it as like

Sugar boo trying to have like a normal day : I’m a nice person. I’m a good person. I wouldn’t consider killing somebody and I’ve never done that before

Derek in the background : actually you have killed somebody and you would do it again wouldn’t you you little fucking liar you’re a horrible person. If your boyfriends found out they would think you’re a horrible person too.

Thank you! Time For giving me this question

So I support where I’m like. I don’t know if they should hide it or like they do kill Derek, but the boys find out and they’re like they’re trying to reassure them that everything’s OK(I’m assuming the boys have done this exact same but sugarboo is worse haunting measures)

But I’m also thinking about like they leave they try to make a scene that it happened like you know how auron finds his body that’s how he would find it but sugar boo wouldn’t say anything. They would try to hide it from the boys try to make it like it happen all of itself and the sugar boo had nothing to do with.

TW: disturbing images

Derek don’t want to look sexy. I actually want him to look like he came out of hell like he was dragged by the fucking mud over and back. Beat the shit out of him like I want him to look like the worst person ever and have the most horrifying smile.

I’m going to route with the second cause like I kind of wanted to be like this was kept a secret and this is why they’re so like afraid of themselves like they want to reassure themselves like they’re a good person like they would never do this, but also in the back of their head, they’re like I kinda like this like they have a weird taste for like blood in a way

Like I can imagine the reassuring themselves that they’re like a good person they would never do this there they’re not as bad as they think they are, but also the second thought they are kind of a bad person not really cause they had a good right to do it, but in their head, Derek, and also their feelings are manipulating them

Thank you! P0tion_Alb For giving me this hc

If that makes him feel even more fucking worse, they feel miserable because they’re pointing the fault on somebody else now instead of themselves and that gives you know who gives some get more fuel, fucking Derek he’s like yeah you’re blaming somebody else when this was your fault you did this YOU KILLED ME AND YOU’RE SAYING YOU’RE NOT A BAD PERSON THAT YOU WOULD NEVER KILL ANYBODY, BUT BESIDES MY FRIEND, YOU ACTUALLY DID KILL SOMEBODY

I feel like this would give Derek more fuel into tormenting the shit out of sugarboo like this is not helping them feel better. This is making them feel worse.

Anyways I hope you guys like it I was been a really long time on it and I hope you guys love it as much as I do :3

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice listener #yuurivoice fanart #yuurivoice fanfic #yuurivoice oc #yuurivoice derek #seth yuurivoice #alphonse yuurivoice

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rosecoloredsunshine · 1 day ago

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come and find me now — kyle spencer

masterlist | request link

PAIRINGS: post-death!kyle spencer x female!reader

SUMMARY: you knew that there was something wrong that's going to happen the moment zoe brought kyle back to his mother, so you took the matters into your own hands.

REMINDERS: please be reminded that this is a work of fiction. meaning that all events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, mentions of death (minor), reader is a witch, there are some inaccuracies, angst, hurt, comfort, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i've been very busy this week, reason why i haven't posted any fics. but i have a free time now, so i'll try to post the other fics (mostly requests). to the one who requested this, i hope it's up to your standards. enjoy! :)

The garden at Miss Robichaux’s was quiet today, magnolia trees swaying gently as their petals floated to the earth like snow. You sat beneath one of them, fingers grazing the yellowing page of an old spellbook. You were always reading, always observing. The world moved fast around you, too loud and too careless, but you took your time. You listened and you learned.

You knew things. Things the others didn't and couldn't notice, like how Queenie tapped her foot when she was lying, or how Cordelia’s smile never quite reached her eyes anymore. You definitely knew that Zoe Benson had done something reckless, the energy around her had changed that night she and Madison came back from that frat party. There was a stillness to her now, like she was holding her breath, and it wasn't long before she confided in you.

“We brought someone back,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder as though the walls might be listening. “His name is Kyle. He died, and we used resurgence.”

Your heart dropped like a boulder in your chest. A resurrection spell—a dangerous and volatile magic. Forbidden unless under direct order of the Supreme, and even then, only if it was clean, but this wasn't. You already knew that without needing to ask, though you also knew Zoe wasn't strong enough to pull it off alone.

“He didn't deserve what happened to him,” she says, voice thin and trembling. “He was a good person.”

You believe her. That's the thing, Zoe never lies, not really. She just wants to fix things, and she thought bringing Kyle back would fix it. But you also know magic like that comes with a cost. You saw it in Kyle’s eyes the day she brought him back, there was nothing behind them.

Then Misty got involved, and you understood that too. She’s a wild soul—Misty, but she knows resurrection better than anyone. You could sense her magic clinging on Kyle like vines, but still, Misty couldn't restore what had been broken. Not entirely.

The broken pieces of a boy sewn back together like some patchwork doll. The only part of him that was truly him was his head, but the rest? It was a collage of other bodies. No wonder the soul had trouble finding peace, no wonder Kyle screamed more than he spoke. His body wasn't home anymore, it was a cage. He didn't speak, he grunted, sobbed, and lashed out. There were days he sat curled up in the greenhouse, rocking himself, murmuring things that didn't make any sense.

You would always watch him from afar. You wanted to help, but he flinched at everything that wasn't Zoe.

“I’m taking him back to his mother,” she whispered to you one day. “He needs someone, someone familiar.”

You stared at her like she had grown a second head. “You can’t do that, Zoe.”

You had seen the bruises on his spirit, and it’s not the kind magic could heal. The kind left by years of secrets, you saw the way his entire body locked up when Zoe mentioned his home.

“She loves him,” she insisted. “She’ll help.”

You didn't agree, but you didn't fight her. Instead, you just watched her go, and something in your chest wouldn't settle for that.

It was like an itch you couldn't scratch, a scream you couldn't let out. Days passed, and you decided to keep your mouth shut, hands busy. But the silence got louder, it clawed your insides, gnawed at your thoughts. Then one morning, you woke up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and you knew—something was wrong. You didn't tell anyone, so you grabbed your keys and drove.

The Spencer house sat tucked in a sleepy New Orleans neighborhood, all peeling paint and dying hydrangeas, a hollow place. The front door was open, so you let yourself in. The house was quiet, not peaceful, but dead. There were dishes in the sink, a chair knocked over, and a picture frame shattered. The air also reeked of copped and rot and something else—something grief-stricken.

You heard it. A sob that is raw, broken, and animalistic. It led you down the hall, past family photos that made your skin crawl. Smiling faces, Kyle’s too, but younger and innocent, not yet touched by death or magic or cruelty. The sobbing got louder as you walked towards the sound, you then pushed the door, and there Kyle was—curled into himself on the bloodstained carpet, his finger torn and red. The wall behind him splattered with it, and his face wasn't just blood on him, it was grief.

You saw her mother slumped on the floor, lifeless. You didn't look at her long, you only saw Kyle. He didn't see you at first, he was trembling, rocking, chest heaving with ragged sobs. Every breath sounded like it hurt. When you moved towards him, his head snapped up, eyes wild and desperate.

Kyle didn't speak, he couldn't. But the look on his face broke your heart. You dropped to your knees beside him, not caring about the blood, not caring about anything except the boy that is in front of you.

“I’m here,” you said softly, reaching for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a sob and a scream, and then he collapsed against you. His arms wrapped around your waist, body shaking with silent horror. You held him tighter as the blood soaked into your shirt, you didn't flinch.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, over and over. “I know. I know.”

Because you did. You knew what she did to him, what his mother was. You could feel it in the walls of this place, the ghosts and shadows. You held him until he stopped shaking.

You quickly got to work. It was frantic, messy, and desperate. You didn't think, you just moved like a robot. Bleach, towels, garbage bags—you knew how to make things disappear. You have seen enough in this life to know what the world doesn't want to look at. By the time the sun began to set, you were done.

You stood in front of him, blood still under your nails, and offered your hand. “Come with me,” you said. “You don’t have to stay here, I’ll take care of you.”

Kyle’s eyes were wet, lost. But he took your hand.

Once you were both back, you brought him to your room, where it was quiet and safe. You set up a cot beside your bed, but when you turned around, Kyle was already curled on your comforter, clinging to your pillow like it was a lifeline.

You smiled softly. “Okay, you can stay there.”

You dimmed the lights and slipped in beside him, unsure of when the last time he’d had real sleep. In the quiet of the night, you felt his finger reach out for yours. He didn't speak, he didn't have to.

“I’ll protect you,” you whispered into the dark. “I know what it’s like to have a body that remembers pain, but we’ll unlearn it. Together.”

Kyle pressed his forehead to your shoulder, and for the first time, his breathing was steady. You didn't tell anyone that he’s back, at least not yet. Not until he was ready. You would teach him again—how to speak, write, and most importantly, how to live. Then, maybe in time, how to trust.

You were the quiet one, the one who knew everything, and now, you knew what love looked like in its rawest form—it is the broken boy that is in your bed right now.

You promise that you would never let him break again.

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nazarethsprincess · 5 months ago

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I just love my sisters

#stating the obvious #but #I just can’t imagine a world without them #they’re my babies #and best friends #im so grateful im able to call them my siblings #im glad im now able to let go over the resentment I had when I was younger #they couldn’t help being born how they were #I try to be more receptive towards them #I miss them sm rn #I can’t wait to go home #conflictingly they r my world

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dontmindmejustdoomscrolling · 4 months ago

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Just finished reading Gideon the Ninth.

I’m going to cry what the FUCK

#they really weren’t kidding about the one flesh one end thing huh #I can’t imagine a world without you so I offer myself up to become a part of you ughhh #i just want them to be happy is that too much to ask #this book has actually irreversibly altered my brain chemistry. I can’t wait to read Harrow the ninth next #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt spoilers #CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME HELLO. IM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS BOOK

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sillylittlecandlestick · 1 year ago

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Sammy pushing away her trauma with that “I've already forgotten” line is so real for a lot of farm kids, like damn.

#no but actually #sammy gutierrez #camp cretaceous #jwcc sammy #jurassic world camp cretaceous #trauma dump in the last few tags #I have a few stories but one of the more prominent ones is when #I was (still am) a vegan and took an agricultural class #(my first mistake)#we had to raise chicks that were going to be killed and I barely remember them despite the fact we were around them daily #I can’t imagine what it’d be like to live these animals like sammy does and not be able to anything but contribute to it #like - thousands of cattle have been through her farm and killed by her parents and grandparents that’s not something she’d just accept #without majorly desensitizing herself to it and justifying it to herself #they could’ve done more with that imo

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icelogged · 6 months ago

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WHEN IT’S COLD

AND THE WORLD ENDS

I WANNA BE HIGH [literally straight edge]

#i was like this with songs about sex too lol #though this is the first song mentioning drugs that i’ve been screaming the lyrics to from the rooftops #like i literally have to stop myself from sending this over and over to the family group chat but that’s why i have adrian #and ash :3 like *picks up my biological son named ashtray* when it’s cold and the world ends i wanna be high him: mah merow <- so true btw #evidence of life #music #y’all remember femcel turbo virgin nun oatmeal yea i do too sometimes i miss them in a strange way it’s not here or there yk i could never #and what literally broke my mind yesterday wouldn’t have happened if i still was that person also i wouldn’t have my precious lil demon baby #like that would be absolutely tragic if i existed without him :(((#i just can’t imagine a world without him rubbing on my leg hairs purring and meowing </3 he is the best on the welcome home committee #committy? commkitty??

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mosabsdr · 2 months ago

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🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨

Hello, My name is Mosab, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.

The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.

We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.

Our Current Situation:

💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income.

📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive.

😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.

How You Can Help:

I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $10 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.

Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.

What This Means to Us:

Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.

Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.

With all our gratitude,

✅️ Vetted by ✅️

@gazavetters #309

#gaza #free palestine #free gaza #gazaunderattack #gaza genocide #gaza strip #palestine

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your older boyfriend, satoru, shows you just how much he adores you in his private office <3

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x virgin!female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). smut, pwp. fīngering. multiple ōrgàsms; overstimulation. mention of corruption kink. dry h��mping. nicknames ‘princess, baby, beautiful’. pls ignore any grammar errors xx

“heh, don’t look at me. look at yourself, princess,” satoru chuckles, easily noticing how your head is tilted in attempt to watch him as he gets you off. you’re sitting on his thighs with your legs spread, shamelessly allowing him to finger you in his office.

your shaky eyes dart down to your dripping cunt—clearly seeing how it’s got a mind of its own. it’s squeezing satoru’s long fingers as he moves them in the speed of light. your limbs are shaking by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving.

“the-the door,” you hiccup. you hadn’t locked the door behind you when you walked into satoru’s office. you definitely wouldn’t want any of his colleagues to walk in on you. though, that didn’t seem to worry your boyfriend. all he’s focusing on at the moment is your perfect pussy taking in his middle and ring finger.

satoru’s glossy lips are parted and covered in spit. he has to lick up the drool from the corner of his mouth so it wouldn’t dirty your opened blouse. he’s quite literally salivating at the sight and feeling of your warm cunt. . .

“the others ‘re busy, they won’t come in as long as you keep your pretty voice down,” satoru promises you in a smooth tone, blue eyes wide with fascination as he stares down at your pussy.

he’s always imagined what it’d be like to be inside of you. what it would feel like to hold you in his arms and make love to you without holding himself back— to show you a world you have yet to discover.

satoru wants to be the first one to do that, though he’ll wait until you’re ready. for now, he’s completely satisfied with just a taste of heaven.

“fuck, baby, she’s beautiful,” satoru praises your delicate pussy. your wet folds continue to make way for more of his fingers, spreading as he tries to enter a third digit into your poor, clingy hole. you whine as you feel satoru prepare you by rubbing your clit repeatedly with his thumb—trying to make you as wet for him as you possibly could be.

you shake your head, “can’t take more, ‘toru.” it genuinely feels like you’re being stretched out. three fingers are going to take you out. “nuh-uh,” satoru mocks you before telling you to look at him. the moment you do, his lips envelop yours in a lustful yet comforting kiss. you moan into his mouth and he does the same back, eyebrows furrowing because of how good it feels to suck on your tongue.

his fingers don’t stop. the third slides in and you jolt back against satoru’s chest. “shh, shh, i got you,” the older man attempts to calm you down. he stops fingering you for a second so you could adjust to the stretch. you’re tight—he can feel his erect cock twitching in his pants, begging to replace his fingers. he can’t, not yet.

satoru cusses under his breath once he feels your ass rub against the bulge in his uniform’s pants. you’re killing him and you don’t even realise it because you’re too focused on his fingers fucking your cunt. shlick shlick shlick — you’re dripping wet.

“i’m gonna cum,” you whisper through a soft gasp. it would be your third orgasm. you’re sensitive and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. your lower abdomen is tingling and aching. you’re going to inevitably squirt all over his chair, again.

satoru bites his lip as he hears you announce how close you are. his long fingers are already soaked with your juices, coating them with a sticky layer that he cannot wait to taste. “do it, baby. wanna see you cum,” your boyfriend coos.

satoru loves the way your hips circle back to him, rubbing against his groin. you’re driving him insane without even knowing it. he curls his fingers inside you, thumb still circling your clit for extra stimulation. you’re being driven to the edge of insanity.

he bucks his hips a little each time you involuntarily move in his lap. “toruuu, fnnh, so close,” you’re not only moaning because of the fingers inside of you, but also because of the hard bulge rubbing against and between your ass cheeks.

satoru knows your voice can easily carry over to the next room. you’re usually loud when you finish on his fingers. he takes his free hand and pushes your head back against his shoulder, his index and middle finger sliding into your mouth to silence you.

your whimpers are muffled as you automatically start sucking on his digits. satoru kisses your ear and jawline, whispering small words of praise against your skin because of your obedience. “keep it down for me, beautiful. y’re already doing so well.”

your eyes roll back as your saliva dribbles down his left hand. the wet trail runs down his veiny arm that’s exposed to your view. you love it when satoru pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows—it reminds you of why everyone fawns over him. it’s hot.

you’re trying to hold out, not wanting to cum. you wish to stay like this, with satoru’s fingers deep in your cunt and mouth, his bulge grinding against the fat of your ass.

the white-haired man instantly notices this and chuckles to himself; you’re fighting a losing battle. he increases the pace, his wrist working over time so his fingers could reach those sweet spots in your velvety walls. he decides to rile you up some more;

“shiit, just imagine that ‘ts my cock stretching your pretty cunt out,” satoru grins against your ear. he knows you’re weak for dirty talk. you have never felt what it’s like to be stuffed full of a dick, and thus the imagination adds to the raunchiness of it all.

you shiver and let out a small moan escape your mouth before you continue to suck on satoru’s fingers. all this time you’ve settled for make out sessions, grinding and oral pleasure. you’re needy for more than that.

satoru knows what buttons to push. he knows how to make you melt and give in to him and his words. he bites your earlobe after letting his tongue lick the skin, “all filled up to the brim. you’d like that, huh?”

you barely managed to stifle a loud whine at that. your eyes widen and your pussy spasms around his fingers. you know it’s not long before you’re going to cream all over satoru’s hand.

sweat trickles down your forehead.

“yes, yes, yes!” you moan repeatedly, voice muffled by the fingers in your mouth. you can hear your boyfriend grunt into your ear after seeing how enthusiastically you’re responding. he’s totally getting off to you’re desperation.

satoru wants to cum so bad. he wants to shoot ropes of his cum in the pussy he’s prepping to one day take his dick.

you see black spots in your vision because of how hard the climax hits you. your breath hitches and you grip onto the armrests of the chair for support. a spray of clear and watery juices covers satoru’s entire hand and bits of his arm—evidence of just how much you enjoyed your little session with him.

the older man pats your tummy and rubs it, comforting you as the aftershocks of your climax hit. he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt and brings them up to his glossy lips, thoroughly licking every drop off. his dick pulses in his pants at the delicious taste.

you’re panting as you try to get your thighs to stop shaking. you’re out of energy, drained. all that you hear replaying in your mind is satoru’s dirty talk. you don’t know if you can handle his dick if you’re already overwhelmed by the way he skilfully uses his fingers.

as if sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend smirks and hugs your body tightly to his chest.

“can’t give it t’ ya now,” satoru whispers and pouts, teasing you as if to turn you on again. he takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and presses his lips against yours as a promise, “but one day i will, yeah? one day i’ll fuck ya so good you’ll only know my name.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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harrysfolklore · 4 months ago

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nepo boyfriend - fc43

summary: franco colapinto is dating leo messi's daughter, which makes him a "nepo boyfriend"

folkie radio: GUYSSS HERE IT IS! took me a minute to do this requests but there you have it. i had to educate myself on messi lore for this and omg he has the cutest love story with his wife, im obsessed lol. anyway, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by francolapinto, olliebearman and 202,826 others

yn.messi home 🤍🇦🇷

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username1 IT GIRLLL

username2 coolest nepo baby

username3 ESPERA is that franco colapinto??

└ username1 she's been dating franco for years now 👀

└ username4 our boy stealing messi's daughter's heart purrrr

username5 little messi has a boyfriend???

└ username1 yeah he's literally argentina's next f1 star

francolapinto mi hogar está dondequiera que estés ♥️ [home is wherever you are]

└ yn.messi 🫂🤍

username6 imagine your dad being the most famous sportsman ever and dating a cute guy and wearing cute outfits. she has the dream life

username7 i can’t wait for franco to make it to f1 so they become the paddock it couple

liked by francolapinto, yn.messi and 509,268 others

williamsracing BREAKING: Franco Colapinto joins Williams Racing for the rest of the 2024 season. Welcome to the family, @/francolapinto!

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username1 OMFGGGGG

username2 poor logan but franco is really talented he deserves this chance !!

username3 HES SO CUTE HELLO??

yn.messi mi campeón 🫶✨ [my champion]

└ francolapinto ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

└ username1 LEO MESSI’S DAUGHTER??

alex_albon Welcome to the team mate!

└ francolapinto gracias Alex! Ready to learn 💪

username4 ARGENTINA IS BACK IN F1

leomessi 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

└ username2 LEO COMMENTING ON F1 POST??? history

└ username3 argentina’s pride and joy already

username5 IS HE SINGLE??? PLEASE TELL ME HE IS

username6 new fans you better learn the franco lore bc there’s plenty of it

username7 WAIT UNTIL YOU FIND OUT THAT-

liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 389,766 others

yn.messi first of many. orgullosa de vos siempre 🤍 [proud of you always]

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username1 awe 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username2 MY BABIES

username3 THEY’RE TOGETHER ???

francolapinto gracias por todo mi amor ❤️ [thank you for everything my love]

└ username3 HE CALLED HER MI AMOR I'M CRYING

└ username1 someone check if i'm breathing

└ yourinstagram i love you!

username4 THE WAY SHE'S BEEN THERE SINCE FOREVER

└ username1 that's real love right there

└ username2 watching them grow together >>>>>>

williamsracing Our favorite supporter 💙

└ yn.messi 🫶🫶

lilymhe welcome! 🥹💗💗

username5 my girl really said forget football i'm going racing

└ username1 leo watching his princess date a racer instead of a footballer: 🧍‍♂️

└ username2 the crossover we didn't know we needed

username6 remember when we thought those pics in buenos aires were edited??

username7 THE MINI MESSI AND THE F1 DRIVER, THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE

username8 first we got leo bringing us the world cup now franco in f1 🇦🇷

└ username2 and yn connecting both worlds, iconic behavior

username9 the way he looks at her in the first pic >>>>>

username10 IM SO CONFUSED RIGHT NOW

liked by username1, username2 and 56,827 others

f1gossip 🚨 Williams driver Franco Colapinto spotted with YN Messi (yes, THAT Messi's daughter) at dinner in Monaco

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username1 WAIT WHAT??? HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THIS

└ username2 they've literally been together for like four years 😭

└ username3 where have you been living?? under a rock??

username4 messi's daughter dating an f1 driver?? didn't see this coming

└ username2 she's been at every race supporting him!

username5 they're literally the cutest couple in f1 rn

username6 probably just wants messi's connections for sponsors tbh

└ username2 he literally got the williams seat on merit stfu

└ username3 tell me you know nothing about franco without telling me

username7 she could do better than a pay driver

└ username2 clearly you haven't watched a single f2 race

└ username3 worry about your own life challenge

└ username4 he's literally argentina's biggest racing talent in years

username8 why isn't she dating a footballer instead??

└ username2 because she can date whoever she wants??

username9 they've been together for ages, internet using internet internet explorer fr

└ username3 real ones remember their first spotting in buenos aires

username10 the amount of sponsorship money williams must be getting

username11 this is actually so cute. from f2 to f1 together

liked by username1, username2 and 5,028 others

francoupdates here are some pics of franco and yn messi through the years since some of you are new to this

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username1 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭

username2 power couple since day ONE

username3 that pic of her at the pitwall watching him race >>>>>

└ username1 the way she still does this at every race 🥺

username4 REAL ONES HAVE BEEN HERE

username5 they were so tiny i can’t

username6 LOS AMO

username7 young yn watching franco race vs now analyzing his data

username8 here to spread the colapinto x messi agenda

username9 argentina’s it couple since forever

username10 SIMP BABY FRANCO I CANT

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,023,477 others

francolapinto Points ✅ BZRP cap ✅ Nepo boyfriend things ✅

Gracias por el apoyo! [thank you for the support]

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username1 FRANCOOOO 😩😩

username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend thing go i love him

username3 this divaaaa

yn.messi and they said dating messi's daughter got you the seat... weird way to spell pure talent

└ francolapinto clearly i'm the worst nepo boyfriend ever

└ francolapinto te amo hermosa ❤️

└ username1 HELP THEY'RE SO FUNNY TOGETHER

williamsracing More of this please! 💙

username4 worst nepo boyfriend ever actually delivers results

username5 embarrassing nepotism attempt tbh

username6 not him actually being talented and making us all proud

username7 THE ROOKIES BRINGING POINTS HOME

leomessi 🙌🙌 Vamos!

└ username1 JUST ICONIC

└ yn.messi the payment for his permanent seat is due next week don’t forget!

└ username2 IM SCREAMING

username8 the way they're both trolling the haters i love them sm

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and 402,277 others

yn.messi mi lugar favorito [my favorite place] 🤍 pit stop before mexico city

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username1 AWEEEEE

username2 how can anyone hate this couple

username3 THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

francolapinto perdiste en fifa mi amor [you lost in fifa]

└ yn.messi te dejo ganar 😌 [i let you win]

└ landonorris exposed by your own girlfriend mate

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

leomessi ❤️

username4 this is what we mean by relationship goals

username5 THE WAY SHE EXPOSED HIM ABOUT FIFA 😭

username6 football royalty 🤝 f1

username7 this is such a great crossover i can’t

username8 LOS AMO [i love them]

lilyhme 💗💗

username9 taking franco to her dad’s matches 🥹🥹

username10 i’m so parasocial about them

liked by username1, yn.messi and 12,043 others

francoupdates Franco opens up about his relationship with YN Messi in recent interview:

"I met her at an event in Argentina back in 2019. She didn't even know what DRS was back then and now she corrects my racing lines in the sim. We grew up together through all this - F3, F2, now F1. She's been there through the tough times, sleeping in paddocks, the uncertain seasons. The nepotism jokes are funny because if you knew how many nights we spent budgeting for the next race... Being Leo Messi's daughter was never part of our story. It was just YN and Franco, trying to make it work while chasing a dream and loving each other very much”

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username1 NOT ME CRYING OVER THIS

username2 NOT HIM SAYING SHE CORRECTS HIS RACING LINES 😭

└ yn.messi someone has to 🤷🏻‍♀️

└ username1 HI YN I LOVE YOU 😭

username3 "just YN and Franco" 🥺

└ username2 this is actually so wholesome

username4 "budgeting for the next race" but they said nepotism 🙄

username5 THIS IS THE PUREST THING EVER

username6 MY CORAZON [my heart]

username7 haters don’t know a single thing about their story, they have been soulmates for years now

username8 cute but we do need messi connections for that seat 😩

username9 IF THEY DONT GET MARRIED ISTG

username10 real ones have been here since that buenos aires spotting

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

francolapinto added to their stories

[the prettiest is ready for vegas]

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by yn.messi, williamsracing and 678,923 others

francolapinto 3 more races let's gooo! ready to prove nepotism requires talent sometimes 😌✌🏼 (yn stop rolling your eyes at my jokes mi amor)

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username1 I LOVE HIM SO BAD

username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend jokes go

yn.messi i'll stop rolling my eyes when you stop missing apex points honey 😘

└ francolapinto MI AMOR WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

└ alex_albon she's got data to back this up mate

└ williamsracing YN: 1, Franco: 0

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SM

username3 NOT YN ROASTING HIS RACING LINES IN THE COMMENTS

└ username4 MOTHER CHOSE VIOLENCE TODAY

username5 no one can convince me they aren’t the best couple ever

username6 bro got called a nepo boyfriend once and now that’s his brand

landonorris 😂😂😂

username7 okay but when is messi going to get franco a seat fr

username8 worst nepo kid ever he doesn’t even have a seat yeat

liked by username1, username2 and 43,022 others

f1gossip Franco Colapinto and YN Messi spotted getting cozy at XS Nightclub in Vegas after qualifying 🎰 Apparently someone forgot Papa Messi might see these 👀

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username1 FRANCO BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOING LEO'S GONNA SEE THIS 💀

└ username2 man's risking it all before his first full season

username2 breaking: franco colapinto will not race tomorrow due to mysterious disappearance

└ username3 leo messi spotted buying a plane ticket to vegas

username4 it was nice knowing you franco 😭

username5 WILLIAMS RACING SUDDENLY LOOKING FOR NEW DRIVER

username6 someone check on franco pls

username7 pov: you forgot your girlfriend's dad is literally lionel messi

username8 leo messi about to show up at williams garage

username9 THEY’RE SO CUTE THO

username10 MY PARENTS ACTUALLY

liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 401,827 others

yn.messi vegas was fun ‼️ papi please don’t check your phone

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username1 HEEEEEELPP

username2 BESTIE YOU’RE INSANE

alex_albon Kids these days.. they don’t know how you behave

└ username1 imagine alex just babysitting them at the club 😭

username3 BABY WE ALL SAW THE PICS

username4 just in: leonel messi spotted planning vehicular manslaughter

username5 FRANCO MOVE TO ANTARTICA ITS NOT TOO LATE

francolapinto i’m scared..

└ username1 WE ALL ARE

└ username2 THIS IS TOO FUNNY

francolapinto hermosa 😍😍

└ username3 he said yup my gf’s dad could kill me but i’m still thirsting over her

username6 CAUGHT IN 4K AND FULL HD

landonorris 😂😂😂😂 never a dull day with y’all

username7 franco consider witness protection

username8 DROP THE HAIR ROUTINE QUEENIE

alexandrasaintmleux been there donde that…

username9 there goes your possible seat franco leo messi is not paying for it anymore

username10 MENACES

liked by username1, username2 and 29,726 others

francoupdates Franco with one of YN’s little brothers in Qatar! The Messi’s are there to watch him race 🥹

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username1 OH MY LORDDDDD

username2 THIS IS SO CUTE IM MELTING

username3 her dad is there to have a chat with franco about those pictures in las vegas

username4 FRANCO SEAT CONFIRMATION INCOMING

username5 this is so adorable and the fact that yn’s brothers know him since they were born lrettt much 🥹🥹

username6 FRANCO YOU’RE SO LOVED

username7 leo be like: hello franco i just want to talk

username8 ARGENTINA’S ROYALTY

username9 yn tried to hide her dad’s phone and he just showed up at the paddock with the whole fam

username10 I LIVE FOR THIS

liked by username1, username2 and 43,098 others

f1gossip"Yeah, no pressure right? But honestly, they're like my second family now. Leo's probably more nervous than me - he keeps sending me good luck messages. Thiago and Mateo have been explaining F1 to Ciro all week. And YN... well, she's in bossy mode so she's more focused on telling me where I'm losing time than giving good luck kisses. But having them here means everything." - Franco talking about his girlfriend's family watching him race in Qatar!

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username1 THE WAY HE GETS SHY TALKING ABOUT THEM

username2 leo sending good luck texts is killing me

username3 YN REALLY SAID RACING LINES > KISSES

username4 imagine getting good luck texts from messi 😭

username5 VAMOS FRANCOOOO

username6 messi family taking over qatar paddock we love to see it

username7 NEPO BOYFRIEND THINGSSS

username8 yn's dad is there to buy franco a set soooo trueee

username9 GOOD LUCK KISSES 🥺

username10 the way he lights up mentioning yn though └ username1 even if she's roasting his racing lines 😭

liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,026,287 others

francolapinto Special helmet for Qatar 🇶🇦Celebrando la copa del mundo [celebrating the world cup] ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Had to honor the greatest of all time and well... my future father in law 😅 Gracias Leo por todo [thank you for everything], specially for not killing me for dating your daughter

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username1 FRANCO OMFG

username2 HE REALLY DID THIS

yn.messi "future father in law" someone's feeling brave today

└ francolapinto had to shoot my shot mi amor

└ username1 HE REALLY WANTS TO DIE TODAY

└ leomessi 👀

username3 DID HE JUST- IS THIS A PROPOSAL HINT???

└ username2 MAN'S REALLY ANNOUNCING HIS INTENTIONS ON MAIN

username4 FRANCO CHOOSING VIOLENCE TODAY

username5 bro using a helmet reveal to ask for blessing, respect

landonorris At least the man’s got game 😂

username6 HELP DID HE JUST SOFT LAUNCH A PROPOSAL

└ username1 leo reading that caption: 🔪

username7 future father in law... franco woke up fearless

username8 LATINO GANG RISE UP VAMOS FRANCO

username9 THE WAY HE JUST ANNOUNCED HIS DEATH WISH

williamsracing Lovely helmet design! Also, security has been increased around the garage

alex_albon might need witness protection after this one mate

└ yn.messi don't worry guys papa already knew about the helmet

└ francolapinto MI AMOR YOU COULD'VE LED WITH THAT 😭

username10 never beating the nepo boyfriend allegations

username11 buttering messi up so he can buy him a seat we know

liked by lilymhe, francolapinto and 402,389 others

yn.messi my nepo boyfriend who couldn't even get a point in his first race just finished his first formula 1 season 🥹 so proud of you mi amor, from watching you race karts to F1... i'd say dating the goat’s daughter worked out pretty well 😌❤️ @/francolapinto

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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE

username2 the second pic i’m SOBBING

francolapinto from being the worst nepo boyfriend to getting points... all thanks to you mi amor ❤️

└ yn.mesi you're still the worst nepo boyfriend but i love you

└ alex_albon get a room you two

williamsracing Nepo strategy successful ✅

username3 living the nepo dream fr

username4 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭

username5 from karting girlfriend to f1 wag upgrade

username6 they keep bringing up the nepo boyfriend thing 😭

└ username1 she'll never let him live it down

username7 YN AND FRANCO SUPREMACY

username8 the nepo jokes never get old

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹

leomessi Estamos muy orgullosos ❤️

└ username1 THIS IS SO ADORABLE

└ username2 franco you’re so loved

username8 SHE'S SO PROUD OF HIM I'M CRYING

└ username2 the way she never stops teasing him though

username9 MY PARENTS SINCE THAT FIRST BUENOS AIRES SPOTTING

username10 OUR BEST WAG NEEDS TO STAY

liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,011,965 others

francolapinto What a year... Couldn't have done this without my biggest supporter since karting days @/yn.messi ❤️ Thank you for believing in me even when I was "the worst nepo boyfriend" 😅

And to the entire Messi family - gracias por hacerme sentir parte de la familia desde el primer día. Leo, gracias por confiarme lo más precioso que tienen (y por no matarme todavía).

[thank you for making me feel part of the family since day one. Leo, thank you for trusting me with your most precious treasure (and for not killing me yet).]

Time to work harder for 2025 💪🏼

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username1 FRANCOOO OMFG

username2 this is so CUTE

yn.messi still the worst nepo boyfriend but i guess you're MY worst nepo boyfriend ❤️

└ francolapinto te amo mi amor

└ username1 THEY’RE THE CUTEST

username3 “trusting me with your most precious treasure” IM DEADDDD

username4 man wrote a whole love letter to the messis

└ username1 AS HE SHOULD

leomessi You’re family 🤍 [eres familia]

username5 NOT LEO SAYING HE'S FAMILY I'M CRYING

└ username2 from fearing leo to being adopted by him

williamsracing Family ✅ Points ✅ 2025 loading...

└ username3 GIVE HIM A SEAT

username6 THE SECOND PIC, THEY WERE LITTLE BABIES

username7 THE WAY HE THANKED THE WHOLE FAMILY 😭

└ username1 securing that messi blessing

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