#better than you did. and what if all of him and who he was slowly seeps into this new person and you are forced to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redocity · 2 days ago

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hello, i was wondering if you could do a smut about buck?

Maybe have it where reader has been feeling really insecure lately and buck is like “i’ll fuck you until i hear that you believe it yourself” like he wants her to know that he thinks she beautiful and he wants her to see it

if you can’t that’s totally fine ❤️

PUZZLE PIECES — E.BUCKLEY

you are buck’s person, and he’ll be damned if you doubt that for even a second.

evan buckley x fem!reader | 2.9k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | 18+ MDNI, reader is insecure about herself and her relationship with buck, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv, a lot of whining and general begging, creampie, couch sex

a/n — “i’ll put this in my drafts and upload it after work” she said, *proceeds to forget it exists for four days*

sorry about the wait 😭

The thought had crept in slowly, quiet at first, but lately, it seemed to be everywhere. You would be sitting on the couch, watching Buck’s profile as he talked about his day with that familiar smile and bright eyes, and it would be there, the nagging voice that whispered, He deserves better.

At first, you brushed it off, but each time he did something thoughtful or made you laugh, the voice grew a little louder.

Buck was… everything.

He was kind and funny, dependable and brave, always there for anyone who needed him. And in your quieter moments, you’d find yourself questioning whether you could really be what he needed.

What did you have to offer someone like him?

He seemed to pick up on your change in mood quickly. A few times, you’d caught him watching you, brow furrowed, as though he could see right through you. You’d just smile, trying to reassure him that everything was fine, but he knew better.

Buck was perceptive in a way that sometimes made you feel as though he could see things about you that even you didn’t know.

One evening, as you were lost in thought, he suddenly plopped down beside you on the couch, sliding in close. “Alright, talk to me,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

You blinked, startled. “About what?”

His hand found yours, fingers warm and steady as he held onto you. “About what’s got you looking like that,” he replied, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin. “You’ve been so quiet lately. And it’s not like you. Something’s wrong.”

You swallowed, your gaze falling to your lap as you tried to find the words. “It’s… nothing, really.”

“Nothing?” he asked softly, still watching you, but you could hear the worry in his voice. “Babe, come on. We both know that’s not true.”

The truth tumbled out in bits and pieces, a little awkward and halting. You told him about the doubts that had been haunting you, how you’d started feeling like maybe he’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could give him more, be more. You didn’t even dare look at him while you spoke, afraid of what you might see on his face.

There was a long silence after you finished, and your heart pounded with nerves. You expected him to try to reassure you, to brush it off or tell you not to worry. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm, filled with an unshakeable certainty.

“I mean this with all the love in the world,” he started, and when you glanced up, he was gazing at you with a look so fierce it almost took your breath away. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

The incredulity in his voice caught you off guard. “Buck…”

“Hey.” He cupped your face, tilting it up so you couldn’t look anywhere but into those intense, unwavering blue eyes. “There’s no one on this earth who’s better for me than you. No one.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, slow and deliberate. “I’m not letting you go that easily.”

You felt your throat tighten, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you know by now? I was made for you.” His voice trailed off with a kiss against your lips, soft and gentle, as though he were trying to convey what words couldn’t. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

And he wasn’t done, it seemed. He took your hands, held them to his chest as he pressed little kisses on each of your fingers, down to your palms, his lips gentle and warm against your skin. “Do you feel that?” he murmured, his hand covering yours over his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your fingers. “That’s yours. Always has been.”

His touch drifted from your hands up to your face as he kissed you again, brushing his lips across your forehead, your cheeks, even the bridge of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, a wordless way of saying everything you hadn’t been able to believe.

You tried to speak, but he stopped you with a gentle shush, moving his kisses down the column of your neck to your shoulder, as if every inch of you was something sacred that he wanted to worship.

“I’m not stopping until you believe me,” he murmured against your skin, his hands steady and sure as he wrapped them around you. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you. Always.”

“I’m a mess,” you murmured as his lips worked to create a path of fire down your collarbone and along the swell of your breast, teasing the hemline of your v-neck with his lips. “I’m—”

“Perfect,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire as his mouth found the valley between your breasts and the sensitive skin of your chest. “You’re perfect for me.”

You shivered under his touch and a gasp broke free from your lips as he moved back up to your mouth, capturing it in another kiss.

He pulled away for a moment to look you in the eye, his breathing as ragged as yours, his gaze full of pure, honest desire. “You’re it for me,” he said, his voice a low, husky rumble. “There’s no one else I want. Just you. Only you.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but he pressed his thumb to your lips, cutting off your words. “Don’t fight me on this,” he murmured. “Let me show you how perfect you are for me.”

With that, he crashed his lips to yours again, his tongue delving into your mouth as he encouraged you back against the couch. His hands were everywhere, his touch gentle yet urgent as he pushed your shirt up, his palms hot against your bare skin.

You arched into him, your body desperate for his touch, your hands seeking purchase on his arms.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over your head, his hands immediately returning to explore your newly exposed skin. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down the valley between your breasts and along your stomach. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You shivered under his touch, your breath catching in your throat, every nerve in your body on fire. “Buck…” you gasped, the word more of a plea than anything else. “Please… I need…”

Buck’s eyes darkened slight with desire, his fingers hooking into the waist of your sweatpants and pulling them and your underwear down in one swift motion, baring you to him completely. “I know what you need,” he murmured, his mouth trailing kisses down your hip and inner thigh. “I’m going to give you everything you need, baby. Just trust me.”

He moved between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider for him. A thrill of anticipation shot through you as his breath ghosted over your core, his lips following the path his breath had taken. “Beautiful,” he repeated, his voice a low, reverential murmur against your skin. "Absolutely perfect for me,”

He ran his tongue tentatively along the length of your slit, drawing a shudder from you, his hands gripping your thighs tight as he teased you, taking his time to lavish attention on every inch of you. You arched against him, your hips rolling, seeking more of his touch. “Please,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer. "Please, Buck…”

Buck’s grip on your thighs tightened at your words, a low grumble rumbling in his throat. “Not yet, baby,” he said, his breath hot against your core. “I’m not done showing you how perfect you are.” He gave your hip a gentle squeeze. "Relax. Let me show you.”

With that, he licked a long, slow stripe up through your folds, his tongue flicking against your clit briefly before moving back down, drawing another shudder from you. He repeated the motion, over and over, his tongue working with purpose to show you how deeply he was lost in you, in the feel of you, the taste of you.

Every touch of his tongue was a jolt of pleasure, your nails digging into his scalp as you arched against him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Buck—” you gasped, your thighs quivering under his grip. “Please, I can’t—”

Buck pulled away, his chin glistening with your arousal as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You can,” he said, his voice a low, raspy rumble. “You will. Just a little longer, baby.” He teased a finger into your entrance, and your breath caught in your throat again. “I just need to make sure you’re ready for me.”

He moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss, his body pressing you down into the couch. You could feel the hard length of him, still trapped in his jeans, and you rocked against him, desperate for more. “Buck, please,” you gasped. “I need you, please…”

“Soon, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his hips rocking against yours, just enough to make you gasp again. “Soon. I promise.”

He reached between your bodies, undoing the button on his jeans and pushing them down his hips just enough to free himself, the hot length of him resting against your thigh as he kissed you again. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice a low, reverential murmur. “So perfect for me.”

His hands gripped your hips, angling them up to meet him, and he began to press into you, slowly, inch by inch.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensations, the stretch of him filling you, the heat of him surrounding you, the pleasure of the friction as he moved inside of you.

“Perfect,” he murmured again, his lips against your ear. “So goddamn perfect, god I was made to be with you like this,”

He began to move after a few stationary moments, his hips rocking against yours in a steady, measured rhythm, your bodies moving together in a desperate dance, the pleasure building with every movement. “You feel that, baby?” he gasped, his voice rough with desire. “You feel how well you moulded to fit me?”

You nodded mutely, your voice lost in a gasp as the pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter with every stroke, every touch of his hands, every movement of his body.

“That’s how I know you were made for me,” he continued, his voice ragged with desire. “Your body fits with mine, like two pieces of a puzzle. You’re mine, baby, don’t ever forget that. You were made for me, and I’m never letting you go.”

His pace picked up, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, his breathing ragged with desire. “Don’t ever think you’re not perfect,” he whispered, his lips against your ear. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner, baby. And I’ll keep going until you say you believe me—”

His body was pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. You could feel every muscle of his body taut with tension, every line of him pressed against you.

“Don’t ever doubt how much I want you,” he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. “I’ll show you over and over again until you believe me, oh god, baby, I’m never going to stop needing you like this. Never.”

His thrusts were increasingly ragged, his rhythm faltering as his climax tried to sneak up on him, only for him to force it down so he could focus on you.

“Say you believe me, baby,” he gasped, his voice a pleading murmur against your skin. “Say you’ll never doubt what you mean to me, because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted— everything— and I can’t live without you, baby, I can’t—”

“I believe you,” you gasped, your own climax building within you, teetering on the edge of release. “I believe you, I do, Buck, I believe you—”

“Say you won’t ever doubt yourself again,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire. “Say you’ll believe me when I tell you how perfect you are, because you are perfect, baby, and I will fuck you like this every day if that’s what it takes to make you believe it—”

“I won’t,” you gasped, your words punctuated by a gasp as your eyes squeezed shut from the stimulation. “I won’t doubt myself, I promise, but please, Buck, I need–”

“I know what you need, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to give it to you. Over and over and over again, until you’re so full of me, and so sated that you’ll never doubt us again.”

His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his own climax, as he sought to bring you to the edge, to push you over and bring you to the release you needed.

“Come for me, baby,” he pleaded, his voice ragged with desire. "I need to feel you come apart beneath me, I need it, baby, come on—”

You cried out at his words, your body shuddering with pleasure at the combination of his touch and his words, the pleasure within you cresting and crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. Your body arched against him, your hands clinging to him as if your life depended on it, your breaths coming out in gasps.

Buck groaned as he felt you come apart beneath him, the feeling of you clenching around him drawing a guttural moan from him. “Oh god, baby,” he gasped, his voice hoarse with pleasure. “That’s it, oh god, baby, I’m right there, I’m right there—”

His pace quickly picked up, his thrusts ragged and desperate, his body tense with the need to join you. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “Gonna make you mine, gonna make sure you know you’re mine forever—”

His thrusts became erratic, his breath coming out in gasps as he rode the edge of his orgasm. “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna come inside you, okay?”

“Yes,” you gasped, you hands desperately clinging to him, “yes, please, I need it, I need you—”

With a final, ragged gasp, he came hard, his body shuddering as his orgasm coursed through his torso and down his legs, spilling his release into you, white and hot and possessive in a way his words would never be.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling, his breathing ragged. “God, baby,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea, actually,” you murmured, your own breathing still slightly ragged. You reached up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. “You’re damn convincing, Buckley.”

He chuckled at your comment, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him. "I meant every word, baby," he murmured, his lips drifting up the column of your neck to your ear. "You're perfect for me, and I'll keep proving it to you until you believe it yourself.”

You hummed contentedly at his words, your body relaxing against him, boneless and sated. You could feel the warm, sticky aftermath of his release between your legs, and you tightened your thighs together involuntarily at the sensation. “I think I believe you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing small circles along his back.

He chuckled again at your words, his hands roaming your body, tracing a lazy path along your curves. "You're damn right you believe me," he said, his voice still rough with emotion. "And if you ever forget it, I'll just have to remind you again. Over and over and over...”

He rolled the two of you over, pulling you close against his chest and wrapping you in his embrace. "But for now," he said, his voice softer now, "I just want to hold you. Just feel you in my arms, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing a slow, soothing circle on your back. "I love you, you know that?" he murmured, his voice gentle and full of tenderness. "I love you more than anything in this world, and I'm never letting you go.”

You smiled at his words, snuggling closer against his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his skin. "I love you too, Buck," you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "More than anything.”

#9 1 1 #evan buckley #9 1 1 fanfiction #evan buckley x reader #buck x reader #evan buckley smut #oliver stark

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castiwls · 3 days ago

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juno .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'one of me is cute but two tho’

Requested; @mochminnie

Notes;

Masterlist | short n sweet

Children had never really been on your or Dean's radar. Sure when you were younger the idea of a picket fence had sounded nice but now as an adult and knowing the life you currently lived, you’d both come to an unspoken agreement that it was not the time for kids.

Well, that was until you ended up in the possession of a shifter baby.

“C’mon, sweetheart you’re not seriously considering it.” Dean laughed climbing into bed beside you. He pulled you into his side with a quiet sigh.

The last few days had been nothing short of insane. He thought he’d seen it all and then suddenly Sam’s back and now he has an extended family he wasn’t sure if he trusted or not.

The only person acting like god damn normal was you. Well, you were until you’d announced that you wanted a baby.

He wasn’t ready for a baby! He was pretty sure he’d also just proved it if the way you’d reacted when he’d given the shifter whiskey was anything.

“Think about it.” You hummed, your tone dreamy almost as the image of him holding the baby flashed through your head again.

“I am.” He responded gruffly as his eyes slipped shut. “I’m thinking and I’m telling you no.”

You huffed looking up to him with a slight pout. Dean cracked an eye open, grinning at your expression. “Don’t pull that face at me. No babies end off.”

He squeezed your body closer to his as you continued to frown. “Can’t we just talk about it? I saw you with that baby Dean, you didn’t look too annoyed then.”

He hummed looking at the ceiling for a moment. Maybe the baby had been slightly cute.

“Though if we do have a kid we are not naming it Bobby-John.” You scoffed. Dean shot you an offended look as he moved back ever so slightly to see your face better.

“Hey! What’s wrong with my naming abilities!”

“You can get middle naming duties.”

“Hey, if we’re doing this it’s my child too sweetheart and I’m not letting you name it somthin stupid like…like Sally.”

“Sally? Seriously?” You shook your head, amusement flashing in your eyes as you saw the playful glint in his own.

Dean nodded. “So we’re at an agreement. No Sally.”

“No Sally.” You nodded.

Dean’s hand rubbed over your shoulder slowly as you sat up, shifting to sit across his lap. He smiled as you came face to face, his other hand brushing a piece of your hair back.

“Think about it. A little baby who’s the spit of me or you? How cute would that be!” Your voice was soft now, the same one you used to convince him to let you pick the dinner place whenever you were bored of his constant fast food.

“Think about it? For me?”

He huffed but fell quiet. A mini-you did sound a lot more appealing than another version of him. The world didn’t need two Dean Winchesters running around.

“I dunno sweetheart, two of you sounds kinda like a nightmare.” You gasped hitting his chest.

“Shut up, a mini version of me would be so cute.”

“Mhm.”

“Dean!”

“I’m joking.” He laughed. “I’m joking. I think it would be adorable.”

You nodded happily before falling quiet. “Does that mean you’re willing to try?” You said after a moment, peaking up through your lashes.

“Jesus-“ he huffed before taking a breath. God damn it you’d made the idea so appealing.

“It better be a damn girl.” He grumbled before flipping you both over. You gasped as your back hit the mattress before a slow smirk grew on your lips.

“If not we can always try again.”

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crimsoncandy04 · 2 days ago

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Had to take a brief break and nap (the flesh vessel demanded it) but I'm back now.

Here is The Unwilling Sex Slave of The Balladeer pt 3!

Before Scaramouche had left for Sumeru he had given you a gift. Not that it was useful to you at that point.

Your old electro vision.

You had wondered what happened to it.

Apparently he had kept it.

And as you felt him hang it from your clit piercing and give it a small tug, you had wondered briefly if he had given it back to mock you in some way.

Because literally without arms and legs what vision could possibly be useful to you? Maybe this was for protection or something? You couldn't imagine why Scaramouche would just let you have it suddenly unless it was as a humiliation or a way to keep you safe while he was away.

However after a few days you began to notice that your vision was showing up differently now.

What had been liquid lightning almost after the fight in Inazuma damaged it and made it "leak" according to you, was now becoming scarily useful as you realized it was not only able to move at your will, but it was solid enough to morph into a sort of "vine" that you could now wield a little with your mind.

For the past few weeks you had been practicing reaching out with the cursed tentacle-like violet appendage and would grab things by coiling around certain objects and then pulling them towards you.

It was easy from that point onwards to slowly start making more of these electro vines until eventually you could successfully lift yourself up again by making them all materialize from your spine and acting similarly to spider legs underneath you.

You got yourself out of bed first. Then began to practice walking around and eventually scurrying up walls and hanging on the ceiling.

FINALLY after what seemed like ages, you began to form a plan to escape once and for all. And it involved the subordinate girl who had been in charge of caring for you in Scaramouche's absence.

You had purposely let yourself fall to the floor one night. Feigning a terrified shriek as you heard the bedroom door swing open and saw the worried face of the young fatui girl who quickly came to pick you up and put you back onto your cushion.

You made your move then.

Using your vision in its damaged but useful new form, a thick violet vine suddenly sprouted from your back and wrapped itself around the girl's neck.

Squeezing until she fell to the carpet completely unconscious but thankfully not dead.

You were better than the evil prick who captured you and ruined your body.

You didn't kill innocent people.

Leaving the "base" wasn't that hard once you realized you had just been upstairs in Northland Bank the entire time and utilized your new ability to crawl across the ceiling and get to the door undetected. Once the secretary was distracted by a client, you quickly used your new "legs" and scuttled out the door before it shut again.

The cold midnight air kissed your cheeks like a long lost lover of yours. You wanted nothing more than to stay here in this moment forever and just relish in the fresh air that had been denied to you for archons knew how long.

You were a little out of breath now but decided to slowly go in the opposite direction of mondstadt as you knew for a fact Scaramouche would hear about you being in the small nation probably before you even got there.

You could just picture it now.

You cross the bridge to the gated city of freedom, only to realize freedom wasn't for you as Scaramouche would be waiting for you just outside of the gates, arms crossed in his usual stance as he captured you once more and did archons know what to you next for trying to leave him again.

No.

You knew your best bet was just probably stay in Liyue for now until you gave birth at least. And so you hoped to probably find a village or something as you pulled yourself up the mountain side behind the bank and headed west towards the chasm instead.

However luck was on your side this time.

Because as you crawled over some large rock formations and found yourself inside the old mining area now condemned from the public, you realized a little too late that a group of hilichurls had spotted you.

They didn't even have time to charge at you before they were suddenly wiped from existence via a powerful anemo twister that picked them up and threw them over the cliff side.

Your heart began to burst with sheer joy as you spotted your friend Aether after so long. You immediately called out for him. His eyes widened as he saw you. Not from disbelief. But from horror.

You used your electro legs to scuttle over to him as he instinctively reached out and pulled you into a big hug just like you used to. Tears ran down both of your cheeks as you could hear Paimon yapping about what happened to you in the background.

"Y/N! You're you again! I thought I'd never see you after you vanished again!" Aether sobbed as he held you protectively against him.

You just blubbered back.

"I'm so sorry! He did something to me! He did this! I hate him! I hate him so much! I'm so sorry Aether!"

"Don't be sorry! You didn't do anything wrong yet suffered everything alone... I'm the one who's sorry. I failed you. I failed you as a friend so many times... please... please forgive me Y/N..."

You and stayed in each other's arms in silence for a moment until Paimon's screeching voice finally cut through to you as she squeaked about there being fatui making their way into the entrance to the chasm.

Sure enough. In the distance, a large group had gotten in and seemed to be breaking off into two large teams before heading in opposite directions within the chasm. You looked into Aether's eyes with fear and desperation.

"Aether please don't let them take me again! I need to hide!" You imagined him grabbing you maybe. Perhaps running to a far away location and helping you hide somewhere safe. What you didn't imagine him doing was suddenly pulling out a fucking teapot and grabbing your waist as you three were suddenly warped inside.

You feel grass underneath you as you tilt your head and try your hardest to get up again using your vision. But it was harder for some reason now. Luckily Aether seemed to notice and just picked you up and carried you inside what appeared to be a fully functional and rather extravagant looking Liyue themed mansion. Once inside Aether put you down on the sofa in the front room and then asked if you were hungry or sore anywhere. You were confused about why he'd ask suddenly until you remembered your pregnancy.

Honestly you tried to disassociate from this truth at times. But as your friend showed you kindness that wasn't laced with horniness for once, you felt tears begin to fall from your eyes as you suddenly break down on the spot.

"Yes! It hurts everywhere! I hurt every day! I hate being alive anymore! I hate everything! I wish I was never born to begin with! I hate what he fucking did to me!" The sobs that escaped my throat were nothing short of pitiful. Aether said nothing as he quickly rushed over and held you close again. Trying his best to offer you comfort as you wept bitterly for the life that was taken from you.

"Don't worry Y/N. You can stay here forever for all I care. I won't let him hurt you anymore. I promise. I'm just so glad that you're alive. And here again. You don't know how much sleep I've lost, wondering if he killed you. Wondering why I was such a terrible friend for not being able to find you no matter how hard I tried." Aether began to shed tears as well as you both just sat there for a long time after. You couldn't even embrace your friend anymore. That bastard Balladeer has stolen so much from you.

You hated him so much.

***Time Skip***

Aether stayed by your side for quite a while. You didn't tell him about your vision because you felt like it was slowly ceasing to work now anyway. You couldn't use it as much and when you tried, you'd get zapped across the room and after this happened twice, you decided it would be unsafe for the baby and removed your vision using your own teeth to unhook it from your clit before tossing it into a nearby storage chest.

Other people visited now and then. Namely a woman called Noelle and a very fun young lady from Liyue who worked as a chef called Xiangling. Aether would step out for commissions and other things but the day he suddenly disappeared and didn't return for almost a year, you grew worried.

You delivered your baby boy late one night. Noelle tried her hardest to help you as there was no time to get a doctor or take you anywhere. You remember screaming for her to just kill you. To stop the pain and cut off your head if needed. Thankfully Noelle was a very patient and calm lady and she assured you it would pass and that you would be okay.

You were. And after you successfully delivered the child, Noelle even swaddled him for you and placed him on your chest so you could somewhat hold him even if you didn't have arms anymore.

It was a bittersweet moment.

You had dreams about that long haired woman with the fox several times while Aether was away. She seemed to be almost watching over you and your son.

Giving you advice and mental comfort now and then.

You finally learned her name.

In fact after a few days of being nameless, you in turn, gave this name to your son as a way to thank the spirit woman for watching over you.

Makoto.

He was such a sweet boy. Always wanting to be next to you. Always laughing and playing with Paimon and Guoba so nicely. You were actually amazed at how fast he seemed to catch onto the emotions of others and how quickly his tiny mind learned things.

By 10 months he was already walking and attempting to make little noises that resembled words. The only thing about baby Makoto that you weren't exactly gushing over was his appearance.

He looked EXACTLY like Scaramouche.

Like a tiny clone.

But thankfully his personality seemed to be a stark contrast to his father's.

At least you thought so.

One night after "Auntie Xiangling" had successfully helped you put Makoto to bed, you had another strange dream involving someone who looked like Scaramouche but wasn't exactly...him?

He was clearly him. But his eyes held a certain shine that reminded you of Makoto. He wore a long purple veil and was dressed in all white robes.

To your surprise, he suddenly reached out and pulled you into a gentle embrace upon seeing you. Your spirit looked like the old you so this time you were able to wrap your arms around him back. However instead of kissing you or attempting to do something nasty like... what was his name?

This man suddenly began to cry as he held you. His voice shaking as he spoke in broken sobs.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I love you so much! Please... please... I'm so sorry!"

He sobbed violently as he began to fade a little. You didn't know why, but for some reason you couldn't be angry with him. You didn't know who he was but as he became even more transparent by the second, you almost felt a sense of loss come over you as you felt him softly kiss your forehead before telling you that you were the best thing that had ever existed in his life. And that he deserved a thousand painful deaths for harming you.

You woke up from your dream to see Aether standing beside your bed trying to gently shake you awake.

His voice was urgent. And what he had to ask you was nothing short of a terrible way to begin your day.

"Y/N, I hate to bring this up so suddenly, but I really need to know how you ended up in your condition again. Please I need to know what you remember!" Aether noticed your worried and hesitant expression. He places a gentle hand on your cheek and assures you that it's important but to not worry because you were still safe there.

You sighed and told him the same brief summary you gave everyone.

"long ago, I was kidnapped and trafficked by the fatui. I endured terrible things at the hands of a man who I believe had an electro vision like me. Evil things. In fact his treatment caused me to have memory issues due to the amount of trauma it gave me. But you saved me Aether! And now I'm here. And my baby and I are safe!"

You saw Aether's expression change to confusion, then shock, then realization.

He quickly fled again. Calling out over his shoulder that he was coming back again but needed to go to Inazuma.

You couldn't possibly fathom why your friend was such an oddball at times.

***Time Skip***

Aether came back as promised and after that life became a lot easier for everyone.

Makoto had just celebrated his first birthday and was now impossible to handle as his curious and playful spirit refused to be tamed for very long.

It hurt you to have to reprimand him but you tried your hardest as you didn't want to raise a spoiled child and knew he would need guidance regarding his sensitive and empathetic nature in a world as unforgiving as this one.

Aether found someone in Fontaine willing to help you with getting some prosthetic arms and legs and by that time you desperately needed them as Makoto was everywhere.

You were struggling to stay balanced on the metal limbs and learning to maneuver yourself again was beyond difficult at first but you couldn't keep your son locked away in a teapot dimension forever. He needed socialization and friends.

And so you decided to try your luck and take him for a little trip to the nation of wisdom to get him some new educational books for children and hopefully let him run into a new friend while you two were out.

You were in the busy market place trying to haggle for some promising beginner language books when suddenly you turned around and realized that Makoto had run off again.

You quickly dropped everything and went running to look for him. Nearly falling several times as your long dress that was originally meant to hide your new legs suddenly became a mobility hindrance. But you refused to stop.

What if he was hurt?

What if he was lost and scared?

What if someone took him?

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest until you rounded a corner and saw your son...in the arms of a man who looked identical to him.

Makoto seemed to sense your presence and his little arms immediately reached out for you as the man brought him over and handed him to you.

Thank the archons!

"thank you so much sir! He's such a handful sometimes. I swear once this one learns how to run I'll never find him again. Heh." You hold your son close as the man suddenly looks you dead in the eyes and asks if you would like him to accompany you while you shopped since he had time and your son seemed hell bent on exploring.

Normally you'd immediately say no.

What kind of mother just handed off her baby to a stranger? Just ABANDONED them to do her own thing?

But the way Makoto kept trying to reach out for him made you pause a little.

Why was he so comfortable with this man? They looked identical but there was no way this man was...

No.

That man wielded electro. You distinctly remember it. This man before you, although similar to your son in appearance, wore an anemo vision on his chest clearly.

There was no way.

You sighed as Makoto started to get fussy and began to squirm in your arms.

Well, he didn't exactly hurt him the first time... and he even gave him back to you without needing to be asked.

Maybe just for an hour?

You'd be keeping both of them in your line of sight though.

"okay. But don't you dare go too far with him! I really do need to get some shopping done before we go home and it'd be nice to be able to focus for once without tiny hands hitting me in the face and demanding new toys."

The man chuckled.

You oddly liked his laugh a little bit.

You decided to ask his name.

He hesitated.

"I have had many names. Most unimportant and useless. But I suppose if you want an alias to refer to me by, The Wanderer should suffice."

Makoto began to kick now.

"Hey sweetie please stop, that hurts. It's not nice to kick people either. You're hurting momma."

Makoto persisted. A tantrum quickly starts to form. However without being told, Wanderer suddenly gets the boy's attention with a rather scary and stern tone. Holding out his hands as if to ask you for the fussy child in your arms.

"You, stop that right this instant." Wanderer took Makoto and held him gently.

"And after your mother was so kind in bringing you with her here today. You should be more grateful. I know many mothers who'd never bother being as generous as yours." Wanderer and Makoto made eye contact and strangely enough the boy was listening to him. He stared up at the man with the huge hat as if he could actually understand him.

"There now. That wasn't so hard was it? There's no need for such tears right now. And look, you've made your mother happier too. You should be a good boy more often and keep her happy with everything she does for you." Wanderer spoke in a low tone. His words were almost soothing to hear despite them being a reprimand.

Why did Makoto like him so much.

At least he was nice?

You sighed and thanked Wanderer before turning and motioning for him to follow you as you went back to your shopping.

***Time Skip***

Wanderer proved to be more than just a good and trusted babysitter for Makoto. He was almost scarily intuitive to what you enjoyed as well like your favorite foods, songs, clothing brands, preferred books, etc. it was so easy to talk with him that you quickly became friends much to Makoto's delight as well and spent a lot of time together. You were practically a little family.

And dare you say that by your son's second birthday, both of you seemed to have developed feelings for each other.

Though Wanderer seemed to be a little more smitten than you. (You wondered if he was just into motherly women or something because his infatuation was almost shocking and you weren't used to the attention at first)

It all happened so quickly in your opinion; Wanderer had just finished giving Makoto his bath and had put him to bed before he met you in the small apartment living room and joined you on the couch (you didn't know why Aether refused to let him be around you and you introducing Wanderer to him as your friend had led to a small fight between you that ended with Wanderer inviting you to live with him temporarily in Sumeru City while Aether cooled down.)

You might have been a little desperate yourself as you felt him gradually get bold and cautiously take your hand in his. His lips eventually found yours too. And after that it all felt like a blur.

His head somehow ended up between your legs. Your thick thighs squeezing his head as Wanderer tongue fucked your tight canal and pulled you against his face using your hips. You screamed and whined as he got you to finish several times before you started seeing stars. He seemed to pay a lot of attention to your clit too. In fact by the time he finally sat up from where he lay, it felt a little sore.

Not that you minded.

He held you protectively in his arms as his head rested between your large breasts and his lower body thrust into you. His girthy length stretching you wide as you swore he was trying to fuck another kid into your womb. Wanderer groaned and moaned as he came deep in your hot depths. More than once.

Finally after that he flipped you over on the couch and began to fuck you again from behind.

"Fuck you feel so good Y/N. What IS it about you that just makes me want to devour you like this? That makes me want to claim every inch of you ~" his last words came in a sort of growl that made your pussy throb and clench even harder around him. He grunted as he bottomed out in your sopping cunt for perhaps the 5th time that night.

"harder Wanderer ~ please don't slow down! I need you so much! You feel so good inside me~" you whine as you feel him reach under you and cup your breasts before pounding roughly into your pussy from behind. Using his own weight to pin you underneath him as he kissed your neck and continued rambling.

"you feel divine. I could fuck this pussy for the rest of my life. Fuck Y/N don't squeeze like that! Fuck. I'm gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else! Gonna stretch it to fit MY cock only. Fuck I love you Y/N" Wanderer panted in your ear as he obliterated you and continued to pinch your nipples.

You were rendered speechless and incoherent as the night went on and Wanderer filled your pussy to the brim.

Time went on after that night. And within a few months it felt like Wanderer was practically your spouse as he made himself extremely useful in nearly every way. He cooked, cleaned, tended to Makoto, and even kept you beyond satisfied sexually.

You eventually found yourself even referring to him as your partner in front of strangers.

Everything would have been perfect if Aether didn't seem to hate Wanderer's guts for seemingly no reason.

And everything came to a shattering halt one day when you learned that you were pregnant again and decided to tell Aether in hopes that your friend would try to get along with the man you loved.

No such luck.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE HAVING ANOTHER KID WITH HIM!?" Aether had screamed as he quickly turned on Wanderer who had been sitting beside you in the Cafe.

What did he mean "another?"

"You have no conscience! Not a single ounce of decency or respect! What the HELL is wrong with you?! After EVERYTHING you're just going to cozy up with her as if it all NEVER happened!?"

Aether got up and left abruptly after that. His parting words being only.

"I told you to be honest with her. She deserves to know. But yet here you are, so selfish...I need to go. Congratulations Y/N. I know you're happy. And no matter what I'm not upset with you. It's HIM I hate seeing."

And then he stormed out and left.

Leaving you in tears as Wanderer tried to comfort you and assure you it's alright. Wanderer gave the waiter mora before just ushering you out soon after that.

You wanted to brush off what Aether had said but some things were confusing you still.

"another kid?"

"tell you what truth?"

"everything that happened?"

What was going on?

You tried to ignore these thoughts as you watched Makoto laughing and running alongside his stepfather as Wanderer carried you in a backpack on his shoulders (You didn't mind letting him do this when you grew tired of using your fake legs and wanted to be carried. It actually seemed to make Wanderer happy when you did as he often joked about enjoying the feeling of carrying his entire family and keeping them safe when Makoto grew tired too and was put into his harness that Wanderer wore on the front of him.)

But tonight you really kinda let him carry you because you wanted to think for a bit.

You felt like you needed to see Aether.

What was going on with him?

Was Wanderer perhaps...

Not who he seemed?

#genshin impact #wanderer #wanderer x female reader #wanderer smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #smut #wanderer x reader #body modification #genshin wanderer #scaramouche smut #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scara #kabukimono x y/n #kabukimono x reader #genshin kabukimono

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therandompagesblog · 17 hours ago

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SKZ Mate Chapter 19

Trigger Warnings: insecurity, angst, alcohol consumption

The essence in the room turned sour as the stories unfolded. They felt uncomfortable hearing their head alpha's childhood. It felt too private and Hyunjin aired it out to threaten Chan into staying, but no one said anything as they watched Chan leave the room. Chan needed to be alone to process as did they all, but it now left the newly presented alpha in charge. Jeongin wasn't in no way prepared to step up so quickly but he had to. He refused to watch the wolves fall apart so he had to create an order quickly. He had sent Minho and Felix to the kitchen to cook them a light dinner while Changbin was sent to fix Felix's nest and if his nest wasn't fixed by the end of the day they were sharing rooms until it was fixed. Jeongin kept Jisung close to the omega considering he had the strongest bond with her and hoped he could comfort her or at least make her feel better while Jeongin went round the house checking on the wolves. By the time he came back, he found the beta lying on the omega's lap with his eyes closed as she comforted him, causing Jeongin to kick the beta. He couldn't believe Jisung, he was supposed to look after her, not the other way around, but Y/N didn't mind. She was so lost in thought as she processed everything from Chan to his uncle to Hyunjin. It was a lot but one thing she kept going back to was the inevitable war with Hongjoong. "Jisung, I need a bit of paper and a pen," Y/N whispered trying to push the heavy beta off of her. "What why?"Jisung asked as he got up but she waved her hand, asking him to be quick. As soon as Y/N had a couple of sheets of paper she wrote down everything she could remember of Hongjoong's pack that may help them. She wrote down everything from their skills to possible weaknesses. She even wrote down the spiritual barrier that was guarded by werewolf spirits.

Jisung and Jeongin had no idea what she was writing but watched her in anticipation as she scribbled all over the sheets of paper circling different things. Every so often the two wolves would look up at each other with a frown before watching her. "Here. It's a list of possible weaknesses in case he comes, which he will. I don't know how much of this is a weakness but this is all I know. Hyunjin may know more but for now, we can think of options while Chan processes. I don't want Chan to act on impulse." Y/N answered as she looked at the young alpha who was a few days older than her. "Agreed. It is a thought we need to be aware of. We don't know how much Hongjoong has prepared or started but we need all the info! Thank you, Y/N." Jeongin said gratefully with a smile even though he was feeling dread seep through his veins. He was in no way prepared. "The main problem is going to be the witch coven. Hongjoong has ties with witches who use dark magic, but his whole entire domain is cast with a dark aura. What, I don't know, but the spiritual barrier is real. They're evil spirits trapped in the lining around the house is in a circle. Now we could find someone to break the circle or we wait it out until it comes down but that's twice a year." Y/N stressed. Jeongin reached out and squeezed Y/N's shoulder reassuringly before kissing her forehead. He didn't want her to worry but he will make a plan, but he needed everyone in their right frame of mind first. "Listen to me, whatever happens, we will get through this," Jeongin promised as he looked at her worried face. Y/N wanted to believe him but she was concerned, that there were too many risks. "I'm going to go and see if Chan is alright. He needs me." Y/N stated as she got up, heading towards the back door to see Chan sat on the decking look out at the woods.

Y/N could see from his position that he was deep in his thoughts. It broke her heart as she looked at him. He looked lost and she wanted to make it better. "Chan?" Y/N called out, hoping not to startle him but he hadn't heard her so she slowly crept forward before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Chan jumped when he felt someone touch him, but relaxed when he smelt her. Her scent calming him. "Channie?!" Y/N cooed as she nuzzled him with her head before placing a kiss on his shoulder. He was so tense under her that hurt her heart. She didn't like this side of him and wanted to make it better. "Channie. Tell me what to do. How do I make it better?" Y/N whispered as she kissed his shoulder. Chan shook his head and said nothing. There was nothing she could do right now. "Baby, just give me some space for a little while alright? I promise I'll come back in." Chan answered, his voice came out slightly cold, but he wanted to sound comforting. "Hey! I love you, baby. There is no doubt about it and I know I haven't said it yet, but I planned to. I wanted to make it special but I do love you alright. I just need a few minutes, baby, okay? I never wanted you to hear that about me." "Channie, it's okay! I'll give you some space. Take all the time you need and let me know when you need me." Y/N assured as she rubbed his shoulders one last time. "Thank you, baby. I'll come in soon!" Chan squeezed her hand giving it a quick kiss as he watched her walk back into the house. Chan didn't want her to push her away but he also didn't want her to see him so vulnerable. He didn't want to dig up old memories he healed from. He didn't want her to think of him as a disgrace. He wanted to be perfect for her. He wanted to be her protector. He needed to get his shit together but he needed a moment to himself.

Eventually, Chan came back into the house to find everyone asleep but Hyunjin who was sitting in the kitchen with a glass of whisky in his hand. He heard the alpha come in so he slid the other glass over towards him not saying a word. Chan walked over and took the glass, rolling it around in his hand before knocking it back. "You make it difficult to trust you, you know," Chan stated as he poured another drink. Hyunjin scoffed at his words and he accepted them. "I know that," Hyunjin answered. "We have to come to an agreement-" "No. No, we do not. She is your soul mate. She always has been, as she is the rest of the pack. I will always be there for her, even when she doesn't want me." Hyunjin answered, his eyes fixating on the dying plant on the island table. "That is not what I meant, Hyunjin. I know you have history and I won't take that away from you. What I meant is you need to give me room to trust you, but I can't throw you out, not now." Chan stated, his words turning colder. Hyunjin tried to look into his thoughts but noticed he was quiet, purposely hiding them from him. "No you can't. You need me to fight against Hongjoong and you need me to keep her." Hyunjin chuckled as he scrunched up his nose before pointing to him with the glass held tightly in his hand. "I don't care whether you like me or trust me, what I do care about is Y/N and the wolves." "How many more secrets do you have left? Huh? You told me you were cursed but you never meant you were nearly cursed into a lycan." Chan whispered as he slammed the glass down. "I failed my love that is a fact, but I will make it right." Hyunjin admitted but Chan did not believe him for a second. It didn't make any sense to why he would abandon her or not even mention her. "Did she know you loved her? She didn't because you were a cruel alpha." Chan spat. "Harsh, yes. Cruel no. I never forced her to do anything." Hyunjin stated before he got up to leave the room." She was the one who cracked my heart. But don't worry Christopher. The more you worry the weaker you become. You're a head alpha. So act like one."

Taglist for the iconic readers:

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aerospectrum · 3 days ago

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Dean's features were hard and focused on the spot Gabriel had been, he swallowed hard and finally took a breath, slowly exhaling when he saw Madison's warm eyes gauging his reaction. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but let her walk to the couch before turning his attention down to Cas. His hand palmed Cas' neck before he roughly squeezed to illicit a sense of doom and discomfort before shoving him forward towards the couches; the way an older sibling would-- or maybe how the memory of a too physical- too harsh father would when their kid made a mistake.

Dean wasn't a violent man... but there was subtle things he did that showed that not all his edges had been softened by years of trying to be better than John. He kept his grip on the back of Castiel's neck like an owner carrying around a rabid animal and when he didn't answer Madison at first Dean tightened his fingers and gave his head a slightly rougher than necessary shove forward. "Use your words." he barked out.

"No!" Cas snapped, his voice young, quiet... soft.

"No, what? No you didn't call him here to kill her or no he's not going to kill her?"

"No." he stated angrily again, cringing under the pressure of Dean's harsh grip.

"No, what? Answer the fucking question Castiel!" Dean shouted- the way his full name rolled off Dean's tongue made his blood run cold and his eyes... fog up. Angry tears he wouldn't let fall. "Do you wanna get hurt- is that what you want? Do you wanna get yanked back to heaven and have your brain scrambled again- do you want Naomi to take you away and punish you, what do you want, Cas? Why can't you just listen, man, why do you always have to go and fucking mess shit up, what's wrong with you?!"

"Dean!" Sam snapped, shaking his head at his brother's rampage of accusations and idle threats. "Enough dude, take a breath." It wasn't hard to read the overstimulation on Castiel's face or Madison's either, he didn't need Dean making things worse now that Gabriel was there either.

"Sit." he ordered tersely, removing his hand from Cas' neck and grabbing both his shoulders, forcefully shoving him into the seat. "Right here where we can see you, until you can act like an adult you're gonna get treated like a kid." Dean growled out the words and Cas clenched his jaw so hard his lips pressed together and his brow line deepened into a dark glare. He huffed, pent up emotions that he hated to show- a behavior of his fathers he never wanted to emulate, but it was like anger clouded logic or the ability to rationally process Castiel's desperate attempts to help them.

"I've gotta... talk to Madison, can you just watch him while we're in the kitchen?" Dean looked to Sam who relented with ease. Dean mostly just wanted to ask Madison if she was alright... but he also wanted to get away from Cas.. still mad at him even if he was just a kid. "You're gonna answer my damn questions when I get back, understand?!" he threw one last threat out then tugged Madison up from the couch into the kitchen with him. His breath shaky and his hands the same.

Gabriel was laughing at her. No, mocking her. And she couldn’t do anything. She could only glare & pout. The candy wrapper in her hand crackled as she squeezed it.

At the accusation of lying her cheeks got hot. Half in frustration half in embarrassment, she actually thought she was a pretty good liar.

The brief moment he shared w/ Dean had her raising her brow. But it was comment Gabriel made to her that sent her huffing & snapping. “Fuckin prick.” She muttered. Was she wrong to have an attraction to Dean? It didn’t seem wrong, but everyone else seemed to think so. She wasn’t playing favorites… was she?

Gabriel was gone & Madison gently touched deans arm & looked up at him. Her eyes asking ‘are you okay?’ Before turning to cas. “So….. another family meeting?” She sighed & saw herself to the couch then flopped down. Her head in her hands & she looked up at cas, many questions going through her mind then she leaned back & stared up at the ceiling.

“Is he going to kill me.” She asked bluntly. When cas didn’t answer immediately her head shifted, “did you call him here… to kill me.”

#rpwiththelilflower #c; madison #c; dean (there ain't no other men like me)#c; castiel ( the abandoned son)#c; sam (we're the guys that save the world)

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eu-nicola · 11 hours ago

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via

summary: In the dazzling world of high society, you are a young woman who lives an apparently perfect relationship with the pilot Pierre Gasly. However, when you discover that your boyfriend of years Pierre was unfaithful to you with one of your best friends you decide to walk away and what better idea than a vacation in the break of Formula 1 in Italy with one of your friends, Charles.

warnings: tension, infidelity

word counter: 8718

author's note: english is not my first language, btw i'm writing the third part of Max's story

You had grown up with them, in those endless summers in the south of France, where the sun seemed brighter and the air was filled with laughter and promises that seemed eternal. Pierre and Charles were like brothers to you, always there, on days of adventure and days of calm. All of your families knew each other well, and every year the summers brought you together in the same coastal corner. Sometimes, Camille would arrive, that inseparable friend with whom you shared secrets and dreams.

Pierre was the center of calm in the group; observant, with an easy laugh and a confidence that inspired trust. He was the boy who always had a logical answer to every problem and calm advice for each of you. You got used to feeling safe when he was around, to trusting in his loyalty and relying on that serenity he conveyed. He had dreamed of being a driver since he was little, and his tenacity in reaching Formula 1 did not surprise anyone; you always knew that he had the discipline necessary to go far.

Charles, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy, the first to jump into any challenge, no matter how reckless or absurd it seemed. Always on the edge, he was the friend who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, but also the one who could drive you crazy with his impulses and ideas. But that intensity of his, that boundless passion, was also what made him unique. He and Pierre shared the same dream, and although their personalities were opposite, they were both united by that common goal, by that desire for speed that made them talk about races all the time.

Over the years, you witnessed their triumphs and falls. Sometimes, childhood summers seemed like a distant dream; the pressure, the training, and the anxieties of the future began to infiltrate those vacations that used to be just fun. But the friendship between you remained solid. Although life took you on different paths, the connections remained strong, and there was always a message or a call to remind you that they were there.

Pierre had been more than a friend in the last few years, and that spark that had emerged sometime in their teens had grown into something more solid and deeper. The shared laughter and knowing glances had transformed into a relationship in which both found refuge amidst the demands of their lives.

You remember how it all began, almost without realizing it, like a gentle current in the sea that slowly drags you along until you are completely immersed. For years he had been your friend, your confidant; the boy who was always there. But, at some point, something in him changed, or maybe it was you who had changed.

It had started on a spring afternoon in Monaco, when both of you attended a Formula 1 event. You clearly remember what he looked like: hair messy from the wind and an expression of excitement at seeing the drivers gathered together, his idols. That afternoon you noticed how good he looked, how much he had grown and how much he meant to you. A mix of emotions washed over you, and when Pierre looked at you, holding your gaze a little longer than usual, you felt something in the air, something you hadn't felt before. And in that moment, your relationship changed.

The days that followed were filled with small details, knowing glances, and words that seemed to contain hidden meanings. Sometimes, a simple shared laugh or a silence at his side made you feel something different. Pierre began to appear in your thoughts at all hours, and, at first, you tried to ignore him, because you didn't want to risk the friendship you had with him. But it was impossible.

The first kiss was at sunset on the coast, on a beach where you both used to go when you were younger. You hadn't planned anything, you didn't even know how you had ended up there, in front of him, feeling the breeze and the scent of salt in the air. Pierre looked at you with those warm eyes, and without saying anything, he shortened the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, as if both of you were measuring the intensity, the newness of it, until it became deeper, more real. In that moment, you felt like a line had been crossed, and although a part of you was afraid, another part knew it was inevitable. Pierre held you with a tenderness you had never experienced before, and in that instant you felt safe, as if you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

From that day on, your relationship evolved with a naturalness that surprised you. The transition from friendship to love was so fluid that, at some point, you couldn't remember what your life was like without him. Pierre became your partner in every sense. He was that constant support in difficult times, the one who listened to you patiently when you shared your fears and your dreams, and the one who always had a smile for you, even after his hardest days on the slopes.

On one occasion, after a particularly exhausting race for him, you both sat on the terrace of your apartment, looking at the sky full of stars. Pierre was exhausted, his shoulders tense and his expression more somber than usual. Without saying anything, you approached and began to massage his shoulders. He sighed, grateful, and let his head fall back, relaxing under your hands. That night you talked for hours, about his career, about the future and about how you saw the world.

The days passed and, little by little, you realized that Pierre had become an indispensable part of your life. His way of seeing the world inspired you, his patience taught you, and, above all, his love made you feel complete. When he held your hand, looked at you, or said sweet words in your ear, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, and there were only the two of you.

It had been almost a year since your relationship with Pierre began, and things between you seemed to be going better than ever. The trust between the two of you was unbreakable, and you felt that he understood you better than anyone else. Pierre was present in every aspect of your life, and you, in his. It seemed like a solid love, a relationship based on years of friendship and respect. But there was something, a detail hidden between the corners of his life and yours, something that would soon emerge, transforming that feeling of security into a wound.

The first time Camille appeared again in your lives, it was on one of your weekend getaways. You had invited your childhood friends, as you did every year, to spend a few days in a villa near the sea. Camille joined the group near the end of the trip, saying that she had been away on a trip and hadn’t been able to make it earlier. Her presence made you happy, as always; after all, she was your lifelong friend, and sharing those moments with her made you feel like everything was in its place.

Pierre and Camille seemed to get along, and that had never worried you. They had known each other for a long time, as had Charles, and they all had a unique bond, one that you had come to value greatly. But what you didn’t know was that, months ago, during one of Pierre’s trips, something had happened between them, something that had become the darkest secret your relationship kept.

It was one night in Monaco, when Pierre was at a team dinner and Camille was visiting the city. Camille had always had a weakness for glamorous nights, clubs, and the freedom to be whoever she wanted. That evening, without thinking twice, she wrote to Pierre, and he, without thinking twice either, agreed to meet her for a drink after dinner. What started as a reunion between friends quickly turned into something more.

That night, Pierre and Camille shared not only laughter and memories, but also glances that went beyond friendship. They both knew it was wrong, that crossing that line was betraying the trust of someone they loved. But, between the intoxicating atmosphere of the place and the complicity they had shared for years, they let themselves go. Pierre felt an attraction he had forgotten, and Camille, who had always had a spark with him, encouraged him, letting herself go as well.

It was a mistake, one they both knew should stay in the past. After that night, Camille returned to her normal life, and Pierre returned to you, convinced that you would never know what had happened. They swore not to talk about it and to carry on as if nothing had happened. Camille continued to be your close friend, and Pierre, your partner.

In the following months, Pierre did everything he could to act as if nothing had happened. His attentions towards you increased, the small details with which he showed his love and the constancy of his affectionate words. With every glance he took at you, he tried to redeem the guilt he felt inside. But even though he seemed to have put it behind him, the shadow of that night still haunted him in his darkest moments. At night, in moments of silence, that guilt tormented him, and he knew that if you ever found out, his whole world would fall apart.

Camille, for her part, came back into your life without showing any trace of remorse. She was skilled at hiding her emotions, and although sometimes her glances at Pierre had a trace of complicity, she managed to remain distant, as if nothing was different. She was still the same Camille as always, with her contagious laugh and carefree attitude. When you were with her, you couldn't even imagine what she was hiding behind her smile.

A few months after that meeting at the villa, something began to change. At first, it was just an intuition, a slight feeling that crossed you from time to time, like a shadow that made you frown for no apparent reason. Pierre was still affectionate, attentive, almost as if he was trying to make up for something, although you didn't know what.

One night, while you were looking through some photos from that getaway, you noticed one in particular: Pierre and Camille, sharing a somewhat peculiar smile. It was a harmless image, but, without knowing why, it made you uncomfortable. You kept telling yourself that they were your friends, that they had known each other all their lives and that it was normal for them to get along. However, something inside you kept doubting.

The weeks that followed increased that uneasiness. You noticed how Pierre looked away when you mentioned Camille, or how Camille, in a conversation, avoided giving details about some nights in which, according to her, "everyone just had fun." You began to analyze her words, her gestures, her looks. You felt trapped in a spiral of mistrust, and you couldn't help it.

You couldn't keep those concerns to yourself; you needed to vent to someone, someone you really trusted. That's when you decided to talk to Charles. After all, he knew Pierre, Camille, and you better than anyone else. You knew he would be honest with you, without trying to sugarcoat things.

One afternoon, while Charles was back at his house, you decided to call him. He answered on the second ring, in that warm, relaxed voice that always managed to calm you down a little. It didn't take you long to convince him to meet you at a secluded café, away from the eyes of anyone who might recognize you.

Charles arrived shortly after you, and upon seeing you, he immediately noticed that something was wrong. He sat down in front of you, looking at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. You tried to smile to lighten the moment, but you barely managed to keep it. So, without further ado, you blurted out what you had in store.

“Charles, I need your help. I feel like… something is going on between Pierre and Camille. I’m not sure what, but… I have this feeling that they are hiding something from me. It’s just a suspicion, but I can’t get it out of my head,” you said, your voice a little broken, trying to control your emotions.

Charles looked at you silently, evaluating every word and every expression of yours. He knew how important Pierre was to you, and the seriousness of your words made him realize that this was not just a passing doubt. He leaned forward, getting closer, and gently took your hand, as he usually did in those moments when you felt lost.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I mean, Camille and Pierre have always been close, but I never thought that…” he paused, as if he didn’t want to feed your fears. “Look, I don’t want you to be hasty. Sometimes, the mind plays tricks on us, and it’s easy to get carried away by insecurity.”

However, your words had awakened something in him, a kind of doubt that seemed to invade his mind as well. Charles knew Pierre and Camille, and, although he had always trusted them, he had never ruled out that a spark could arise between them. After all, he knew what Camille was like, how impulsive she could be, and he also knew Pierre, and how much he hated dealing with conflict. And now, seeing you so distressed, he couldn’t help but think that maybe your suspicions had some truth.

“Do you want me to talk to Pierre?” he finally asked you, looking at you seriously. “Maybe I can get something out of him, try to see if there’s something he’s hiding from you.”

You stayed silent, considering his proposal. You didn't want this to turn into a confrontation, and you didn't want to put Charles in an awkward position either. However, the idea that he could get some truth that was hidden from you seemed tempting.

"I don't know... I don't want Pierre to feel like I'm distrusting him," you murmured, lowering your gaze. "But I can't keep this doubt in my head either."

Charles nodded.

"Look, I'm going to try to find out something, in a subtle way. And if there's something you need to know, I'll tell you. But promise me that you won't do anything until we have some proof, okay?"

You promised Charles that you would be patient, that you would wait before doing anything. At that moment, you felt a mix of relief and fear. At least you weren't alone in this anymore; now you had someone on your side, someone who was willing to help you discover the truth.

The days that followed were long and heavy. Every time Pierre took your hand or looked at you with his affectionate eyes, you felt a pang in your chest, a doubt that went beyond what he could see. Meanwhile, Charles did everything he could to find out something and, in a casual conversation, try to get some clue. You didn't reveal your suspicions to him, but you watched him, attentive to any gesture or word that could give him away.

Finally, one day, Charles called you again.

That call from Charles came when you least expected it. You were at home, in your kitchen, with a cup of tea in your hands, trying to stay calm. The sound of your phone brought you out of your thoughts, and seeing Charles' name on the screen, you felt a knot in your stomach.

You answered quickly, trying to hide the fear that was eating away at you inside.

"Charles?" you asked, your voice a little hesitant.

It took him a moment to answer, and his tone, serious and slow, gave you no reassurance.

“We need to talk. It’s about Pierre… and Camille,” he said, bluntly, and you felt as if the air was being knocked out of your lungs.

You fell silent, knowing that this was the moment your suspicions were either going to come to life or fade away completely. Charles continued, with a tense calm that only increased your anxiety.

“What I suspected about you… it’s true. Pierre and Camille were together, a couple of months ago. It was… it wasn’t something they wanted you to know, and they tried to hide it, but… the pieces don’t fit, and I found out.”

Confusion and pain hit you hard. The teacup in your hands shook and nearly fell, but your fingers tightened around it, as if that small sense of control could keep everything from falling apart.

“It can’t be…” you whispered, unable to process what you had just heard. Charles’ words echoed in your head like a distant echo, but your mind didn’t want to accept them. You couldn’t believe it, not after everything you had shared. Somehow, you hoped this was just a mix-up, a cruel joke. But the seriousness in Charles’ voice left no room for doubt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Charles said, a mix of frustration and sadness in his tone. “I know how hard this must be for you, but what I’m telling you is the truth. Pierre… I don’t know what he thought, but he wasn’t being honest with you.”

Pain gripped you immediately. You slumped into the chair, your hand still clutching the cup, which now shook as if your entire body was trying to hold on to something that was about to break. Images piled up in your mind: Pierre, so close, so loving, and Camille, your lifelong friend. It all seemed like a cruel game, a lie that was woven with invisible threads until now.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. You needed to understand how something so destructive had gone unnoticed for so long.

Charles sighed, and in his tone there was a hint of helplessness, as if it hurt him too to be the bearer of bad news.

“I knew because when I was with Pierre last week, I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right. He… was behaving strangely, and when I started asking him questions, everything fell into place. It wasn’t easy for me, but… that’s what I found.” I didn't like having to do it, but I did it for you.

A lump formed in your throat, and you felt the weight of everything you had taken for granted fall on you, crushing you. Everything you had lived with Pierre, all those moments of love, of complicity, suddenly seemed unreal, as if you had been living a lie.

"I... I can't believe it, Charles," you finally said, your voice cracked, full of pain. You felt like the ground beneath you was no longer firm, that everything you had built with Pierre was crumbling into a thousand pieces.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Charles, although worried, knew he couldn't say anything to ease the pain that was now overwhelming you.

"I'm so sorry..." he murmured, not knowing what else to say. He was also sad for you, for the way things had happened, and for what you knew you would have to face.

The words seemed to flee from you. All you wanted to do was scream, to run away, to run away somewhere where no one knew you, where all of this wasn’t real. How could Pierre, the man you trusted, the one you’d put all your love into, have done this? And Camille, your friend, the one who’d always been there, how could she have crossed that line, betrayed you like that?

“Thank you, Charles,” you said at last, your words cold, automatic, as if you were somehow trying to keep some control over yourself. You knew you needed to process it, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t know how to move on when what you thought was your life had been shattered in front of you.

You hung up the call, and for a moment, everything was silent. The pain washed over you like a wave, and you felt empty, as if the betrayal had ripped a piece of yourself out of you. The space Pierre had occupied in your life suddenly seemed like an impossible void to fill, and Camille, your friend, became a distant, unrecognizable shadow.

While you were sinking into your pain, your bewilderment and the whirlwind of emotions that Pierre and Camille had unleashed in your life, the two of them continued with their own secret. Far from what was happening with you, in the distance that you could not see, Camille and Pierre

were together at an event and, as on so many previous occasions, when they crossed paths in the hallway, there was an instant clash of glances. Memories of the past came back, like ghosts that had never left. Camille, like him, felt the tension between the two of them, a tension that seemed unable to dissipate, even with the passage of time.

Pierre, with his mind full of contradictions, had managed to calm down after his return to you. But now, again in front of Camille, the old emotions invaded him again. He remembered the moment when their bodies met, the touch of their lips, the sensation of something he had not been able to reject. Camille, aware of what had happened, stared at him, and although her expression seemed relaxed, her eyes betrayed the mixture of regret and desire she felt.

“I don’t know why, but… I haven’t been able to forget you,” Pierre told her, his voice lowering in tone, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear them. The confession came out without her being able to avoid it, like a truth that had been pressing against her chest for weeks.

Camille didn’t say anything at first, she just stared at him, with a slight smile on her lips. She couldn’t deny what had happened between them, even if she tried to act indifferent. After all, she had been the one who had made the first move that night, she who had accepted the kiss, who had taken him to a place where neither of them thought about the consequences.

“Don’t forget it,” she replied, her voice soft, but with a tone that Pierre recognized as dangerous. There was something in her words that caught him, something that made him feel as if he were at a crossroads. Camille hadn't let him go, and deep down, he knew she didn't want to either.

Pierre stayed silent, watching her. There was something about her, that intense, direct gaze, that completely disarmed him. He realized that, despite his relationship with you, something with Camille was still alive, something that refused to die out.

"And what do we do with that?" Pierre asked, his tone full of uncertainty, but also of an emotion that he couldn't hide. The words tasted bitter, but also necessary. He couldn't continue living with the guilt, with the weight of what had happened between them.

Camille took a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one was around, and then whispered, almost as if she were revealing a secret truth.

"I don't know what to do with us... with what happened," she admitted, and for a moment, Pierre felt time stop between them. Camille had always been direct, and though there was regret in her words, there was also something deeper, something that kept them connected beyond betrayal.

Pierre took a step closer, a movement that was driven by a need he couldn't control.

"I should never have let this happen… but I can't ignore it, Camille. I can't ignore you," he confessed, this time bluntly, as if the words were slipping from his control.

Camille didn't back down. On the contrary, she moved a little closer to him, and although remorse was present in her eyes, there was also a spark that she couldn't hide.

"I can't forget you either," she replied, with a smile that, although bitter, was sincere. There was something in her voice that, although full of contradiction, showed that, deep down, despite the betrayal, there was still something between them, something they couldn't just leave behind.

The conversation between them ended with a heavy, but not definitive silence. They both knew that what they felt, what had happened between them, wasn't going to disappear immediately. Although Pierre had returned to your side, his mind was still caught between the love he felt for you and the temptation of what he had experienced with Camille.

When Pierre returned, everything seemed to be in its place. At first, he tried to be the same as always: caring, attentive, the kind and loving boy you had been with. But something in him had changed, and you knew it.

That evening, after he arrived at your apartment, you found him in the kitchen while you were making dinner. There was something different about him, and you couldn't ignore it anymore. You knew you couldn't keep living with the doubt and the pain in silence. You had to face it, even if it meant losing him.

You approached him decisively, your heart racing, but determined that, at last, you would have answers. You couldn't keep up with that feeling of betrayal that was eating away at you inside.

"Pierre, we need to talk," you said, trying to stay calm, but knowing that your words sounded much colder than you wanted.

Pierre looked up, surprised by the tone of your voice. He tried to smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and for a moment, everything seemed to collapse between you.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, with that typical calm of his that used to reassure you, but now only irritated you.

You knew what you had to say, you knew there was no turning back now. You had the proof, you had the truth. It was time for him to face what he had done.

“I know what happened with Camille,” you said suddenly, and the air between you both grew thick. The words came out with the force of something that had been bottled up for too long. It was as if, as you spoke them, the pain you had been carrying around with you for weeks began to release, but at the same time, it intensified.

Pierre was silent for a moment, his face expressionless. Then, you saw him tense, his jaw set. His eyes shifted for a second, as if he were looking for a way out, a way to evade the truth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally answered, but his tone was no longer the same. There was something uncomfortable, something you couldn’t ignore.

“Don’t lie!” you exclaimed, feeling the rage and pain explode inside you. The truth burned you, and you needed him to accept it, to stop hiding it. You knew you couldn’t continue with someone who was lying to you so openly. “Charles told me everything, Pierre. I know what they did, I know you were with Camille.”

Pierre tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t help the slight trembling in his hands, the anxiety that invaded him. He knew he couldn’t continue denying the obvious, but he also knew that if he admitted it, he would lose everything he had built with you.

“It’s not what you think…” he said, his voice now lowering, trying to control the situation. But you weren’t going to let him manipulate you anymore. You knew him too well for his empty words to convince you again.

“How is it not what I think?” you asked, unable to contain the sarcasm and pain that seeped into your words. Do you think I'm so stupid that I don't realize what happened? You lied to me, Pierre. You lied to me! I can't believe you did this to me.

Instead of apologizing, Pierre tried to turn the conversation around, like he always did when things got tough. He tried to find an excuse, a justification for his behavior, as if that could make everything go back to normal.

"It was a mistake, something that happened, but it doesn't mean what you think it does. Camille… Camille has always been a close friend, and that night, it was just a moment of weakness. I love you, not her. What happened doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here with you."

But those words had no power over you. They weren't enough to erase the betrayal you felt. He had overlooked it so many times, ignored so many signs that now they became crystal clear. And now, in front of you, Pierre was trying to downplay it, as if it was all an accident, something weightless, when what he had done had broken everything you believed in him.

You took a step back, unable to bear it any longer.

“I can’t go on like this, Pierre,” you said, your voice shaking, but firm. Each word was another nail in the coffin of what had been your relationship.

Pierre seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t expected you to get to this point. He tried to get closer, to take your hand, but you pushed him away roughly, not allowing him to touch you.

“Don’t touch me. You won’t.” You felt empty, but at the same time liberated, as if a heavy layer of pain and disappointment had suddenly been removed.

Pierre tried to speak, but the sadness in his eyes was evident. Now he saw that everything was crumbling before him, that the lie had come to light, and that nothing could save what was left of you.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice cracking, but the words no longer held the power they once had. No matter how sorry he felt, the truth was there, and there was no turning back.

“Then you should have thought about it before,” you answered, with a calm that surprised you. It was as if, finally, all the pain you had been accumulating had transformed into something more solid, something that strengthened you. “I don’t want you around. Not after all this.”

And without giving her any room to say more, you turned around and walked to your room, heartbroken, but with the feeling that at least you had done the right thing. You had reached the end, and even though it hurt, you knew that your life had to go on, away from lies, away from betrayals.

Pierre stood there, alone in the living room, watching as everything he had had with her faded away, unable to do anything but accept that he had lost what he loved most.

After the confrontation with Pierre, the weight of the situation did not fade away. On the contrary, what had started as a broken hope, was transformed into an urgent need to escape. You needed to disconnect, to get away, to find peace away from all that. And there was no better way to do it than taking a breather somewhere where no one could touch you, where you could recover a little of yourself.

That was when you thought of Charles. You knew that his impulsive personality and desire for adventure fit perfectly with what you needed right now: an escape.

The idea of traveling to Italy came to you as a perfect way to unwind. Italy had everything you were looking for: beautiful landscapes, tranquility, history, and culture. You called Charles, who was in the middle of training for the season, but you knew that if anyone could understand what you needed, it was him. At first, you took him by surprise, but upon hearing your voice, he immediately recognized the anguish you were trying to hide.

“Charles…” you said, hesitantly at first, but with the determination of someone who had already made up their mind. “I need to get away from all this. I want to go to Italy, to a villa in the mountains, away from everything. Away from Pierre, away from everything that happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. You knew he was processing what you had just told him, but you also knew that he would never leave you alone in something like that.

“Of course,” he finally answered, without a moment’s hesitation. “If that’s what you need, let’s go. To Italy then.”

The relief you felt upon hearing his answer was immediate. Charles never questioned your decisions. He had always been there for you, and his unconditional support gave you the strength you needed at that moment.

“Thank you, Charles,” you said, unable to stop your voice from cracking a little.

The idea of traveling to Italy began to take shape quickly. Charles took care of everything, from flights to accommodation, looking for a secluded place in the mountains, far from the hustle and bustle of tourist cities. A place where they could rest, explore, and above all, unwind.

As soon as you had everything ready, the anticipation grew.

The day of the trip arrived quickly. You packed your things with more excitement than ever, relieved to finally get away from the pain and Pierre’s constant presence in your life. It was clear that you needed this change, and, although you knew that the wound Pierre had left would not heal immediately, at least you could give yourself the space to heal, without the pressure of the media that already knew about the crisis between the two of you stalking you every day.

Arriving in Italy, the beauty of the landscape enveloped you like a warm hug. The mountains rose majestically, covered in green, the villas scattered among the vineyards gave a feeling of peace and tranquility that you had not felt for a long time. The villa in which they would stay was hidden between hills, and the rustic and cozy decoration made you feel as if you were in another world, one in which the past had no place.

You and Charles spent the first few days exploring the place, walking through the small towns nearby, tasting wines and eating fresh pasta at local restaurants. Every day was a respite, a chance to unwind, to forget about the pain for a bit and focus on the present.

Although Charles was his usual impulsive and lively self, he sometimes surprised you with his more reflective side, the one that appeared when he noticed that you were pensive, that the shadow of what you had experienced with Pierre had reached you.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told you one day while you were walking through a small medieval town. The narrow streets, full of flowers and color, gave you a sense of calm that only Italy could offer you.

“I know,” you answered, smiling slightly, although it was evident that you still had a hard time letting go of what you had experienced. “It’s just that sometimes I think about everything that happened, and I think I should never have let it go so far.”

Charles looked at you and approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t need to say more, because his gesture said it all. He was there for you, not just as a friend, but as someone who wanted to see you happy, free of any kind of emotional burden.

“Don’t worry about it. What matters is that you’re here now, and we’re in this together,” he said, and the sincerity of his words gave you the strength to keep going.

As the days passed in Italy, things between you and Charles began to change in subtle, but inevitable ways. The first day was just an escape, a respite from the pain Pierre had left behind, but you soon realized that being with Charles in that environment, without the shadows of everyday life, was making you feel something new, something you hadn’t anticipated.

Charles was excellent company, with his sarcastic humor and contagious energy, always ready to make you laugh even when your thoughts wandered to pain.

One afternoon, as they walked down a path between olive trees, Charles began to talk about his life, about his unfulfilled dreams of becoming a world champion, as if he was truly enjoying the company, as if the noise of the world had disappeared. When dinner time came, they sat together at a small table in the garden, with candles lighting the atmosphere and a glass of wine in their hands.

“Did you know that when I was a kid, I thought Italy was the perfect place to live?” Charles said, looking out at the landscape, as if he was reliving his childhood. There was something in his voice that made you think that, although he was always the impulsive and fun-loving boy, there was a side of him that he never fully showed.

“Really?” you asked, intrigued, and smiled at him as you took a sip of wine.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling back, but now with a softer touch on his face. “My family used to come here during the holidays. Italy has something magical, don’t you think?”

You nodded slowly. Something about the atmosphere, the tranquility that enveloped everything, was certainly special.

Every day passed so naturally. On the walks, the comfortable silences, the shared laughter, the deep conversations during dinner or at the end of the day, when you sat on the terraces to watch the sunset, everything seemed to fit together, as if you were both in the right place, at the perfect time. Charles' presence calmed you, made you feel protected and, for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe without the anguish that had been drowning you.

On one of those afternoons, after a long walk in the hills, when the light of day was already beginning to fade and the fresh air was felt on your skin, Charles moved closer to you.

“You know, I’m glad we made this trip,” he said, walking close to you, with a look you couldn’t quite read. “I want you to know that even though I’m a little… unpredictable at times, you can count on me for anything.”

There was a silence between you as you walked together, as if the words had become more meaningful, heavier. At that moment, you realized something: Charles had been an unconditional friend.

The tension in the air between you was palpable, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was more of an attraction that grew little by little, unhurriedly, but inevitably.

Despite the serenity that Italy brought, there was something you couldn’t avoid, something that kept stalking you. Camille’s messages were starting to become more and more frequent. At first, you ignored them, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be the right time to deal with what had happened between her, Pierre, and you. But, as the days went by, the messages became more persistent, more urgent.

Camille: "I need to talk to you, please. I know things aren't right, but we have to talk."

Camille: "I miss you, can we fix this? I don't know how to fix this, but I feel so bad..."

The messages were always similar, asking for a chance to explain herself, to tell her side of the story. You knew it wouldn't be easy, that nothing she said could erase what she had done, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel guilty for not giving her the chance to explain. The problem was that, deep down, you knew you didn't want to talk to her. You had been so devastated, so broken by the betrayal, that it was impossible for you to find the right words to forgive her, or even to listen to her.

One day, while walking through a nearby villa, Charles noticed that you were staring at your phone, distracted. You didn't give it much importance, but he, as always attentive to your gestures, came a little closer.

"Everything okay?" “He asked softly, stopping beside you.

You looked at the phone in your hand, seeing Camille’s latest text. The temptation to respond, to end it all, was rife, but then you remembered what Charles had said: “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You took a deep breath, feeling like even if you wanted to work things out, this wasn’t the right time or place to do so.

“It’s Camille,” you said, trying to sound calm. “She’s been texting me all the time. She wants to talk… but I don’t know if she should.”

Charles didn’t say anything at first, but his look said it all. He didn’t need to explain further.

“I understand,” he replied, his voice firm, but also soft. He moved a little closer, walking beside you. “Sometimes people do things they can’t undo, and even if she wants to explain herself, I don’t think that will change what happened. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do something out of responsibility or fear. You have every right to decide what’s best for you.”

You were surprised by how Charles had handled the situation. It wasn’t just a matter of being there for you; he seemed to understand you beyond words. You felt cared for, supported, and that was something you had never experienced so clearly. Camille’s words seemed to fade away in Charles’ calm presence.

‘What if I just stop responding? What if we never talk again?’ you thought to yourself.

“Sometimes when someone hurts you, it’s best to let it go,” Charles said, not looking at you, but his confident voice made a shiver run through your body. “You don’t need to solve everything. You don’t have to heal the wound right away.” Just do what makes you feel better.

His words resonated within you. For the first time in days, you began to feel like you could truly let go of Camille and Pierre without feeling the pressure of having to face it all. The relief of taking control of the situation spread like a wave of calm.

You decided you wouldn’t respond to Camille. Not right now. You were learning to set boundaries, to recognize what really mattered at this point in your life.

The next night, after dinner, Charles sat next to you on the terrace, looking up at the stars, and broke the silence with a smile.

“Have you?” he asked, knowing what he meant.

You looked at him, a little surprised by his question, but the answer came easily, as if you had been waiting for that moment to finally make a decision.

“Yes,” you said, looking at your phone one last time before putting it back in your pocket. “I’ve decided not to respond. I need to focus on myself now.”

Charles nodded, satisfied, and moved a little closer.

“That’s good,” he said, his tone making it clear that, in his eyes, you had done the right thing.

And even as Camille continued to text, your mind and heart were beginning to free itself.

The atmosphere in Italy had already changed by then. Everything felt different, more intense. Although it had all started as an escape, a simple respite from what you had left behind, now things between you and Charles were clear. There was something else in the air, something you couldn't deny, even if you tried.

That evening, the villa was particularly quiet, the fresh mountain air caressing the skin, and the dim lights on the terrace creating an almost magical atmosphere. They had spent the afternoon touring a small nearby town, exploring local shops and enjoying Italian cuisine. It had been a day full of laughter, of shared glances, of small gestures that, although not obvious to the rest, were clear as day to both of them.

After dinner, in which everything seemed to happen with overwhelming naturalness, they retired to the living room, where the fireplace was already burning softly. The villa was silent, as if the outside world had been left behind. Charles approached you, offering you a glass of wine as he sat down beside you, closer than he usually was. Your breathing quickened a little, as if a fate you couldn’t resist was drawing nearer.

The words trailed off little by little. The silence between you two was filled with a palpable tension, an energy that only the two of you could understand. You realized that, in all that time, what was between you two wasn’t just friendship, it wasn’t just support. It was something much deeper, more visceral. And, for the first time, fear didn’t invade you. There was no doubt in your mind, only an overwhelming desire to be closer to him.

“You know, sometimes I wonder how we got here,” Charles said, his voice deep and low, as he looked into your eyes. There was something in his tone that made you understand that, just like you, he already knew. You already knew that tonight wouldn’t be like the others.

Without thinking, you took a sip of wine, trying to calm the racing heartbeat in your chest, but you knew it wasn’t just the wine that was affecting you. It was Charles’ closeness, the warmth of his body beside you, the way his eyes kept scanning your face, like he was searching for something, like he was waiting for your permission, or like he had already crossed that line without either of you saying it out loud.

“Maybe…” you whispered, staring at him. “Maybe this was all meant to be.”

Charles’ response was immediate, and before you could say anything else, he moved a little closer. His breath, warm and slightly intoxicating, mingled with yours as his hands, gentle but firm, settled on your shoulders. At that moment, you knew. There was no turning back.

The contact between the two of you was subtle at first, almost like a test, a check to see if you were both willing to move forward. But the desire, that raw, unadorned desire, became unstoppable. He didn’t say anything else. His mouth moved closer to yours, and when your lips finally met, it was like all the weight of the world melted away. It was a soft kiss at first, but with each second it intensified, as if the touch of your lips was just the beginning of something much deeper.

Your hands slid to his neck, pulling him towards you, as you gave yourself over completely to that moment, to that connection that had been slowly building over those days in Italy. The barrier between the two of you was completely broken. There was no longer room for doubt or the past. There was only the now, the shared present in which Charles and you were no longer just two friends, but something more, something that could not be ignored.

The intensity of the kiss increased, and Charles gently laid you down on the couch, his body now closer to yours, almost merging. Everything you had been holding back, all the pain, doubts and uncertainties, vanished in the electricity of the moment. There were no words, only the sound of labored breathing and the beating of hearts in unison. Each touch was more urgent, more demanding, as if the world around you did not exist and only the palpable desire between you remained.

Desire took hold of both of you without reservation. The connection you shared went beyond physical attraction; There was a deep need to be together, to explore everything you had been holding back, to take that friendship to a whole new place. And, even though you knew things would never be the same again, you couldn't do anything but surrender to the intensity of the passion you shared in that instant.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathing heavily, but with a feeling of having crossed a line that could no longer be erased.

Charles, with a mischievous smile on his lips, looked at you and, with his voice heavy with desire, whispered:

“That… wasn't just a kiss, was it?.”

The sparkle in his eyes reflected the same thing you felt deep within your soul. You knew that what had happened between you two wasn’t just a passing desire. It was something that would change the dynamic between the two of you forever. But at that moment, in that villa, with the cold wind blowing outside and the fireplace burning softly inside, it didn’t matter what the future held for you.

All that mattered was the desire you shared and the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you felt completely alive, completely present in what was happening between you and Charles.

The night dragged on, but time seemed to have stopped, as if the universe itself had been suspended between the accelerated heartbeats of both of you. The air in the villa, permeated with the mixture of your perfume and the woody scent of the fire, seemed to envelop you, making you feel closer to Charles, more connected to everything you had just shared.

You lay back in the chair for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, still processing what had happened. The taste of his mouth was still on yours, and the warmth of his body was still there. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, there wasn’t a hint of regret.

Charles, for his part, was also silent, his eyes fixed on you. He seemed so serene, so calm, as if everything was natural, as if you had both been waiting for this moment. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, his tone soft but with a slight tension, as if he was searching for any sign of doubt in your eyes.

You turned to him, looking into his eyes, and felt a warmth run through your body. You could see in his expression that he already knew the answer. There was no need to talk about it, but something inside you needed to confirm that you were both on the same page.

“No,” you answered, the word firmly coming out of your lips. “I don’t regret it.”

Charles smiled, his expression relaxed, as if he had dropped an invisible burden that you had both been carrying for days. He leaned back, his body close to yours, as if he didn't want to separate for even a second.

"Me neither," he said in a deep voice, his hand sliding towards yours and intertwining it with yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Time passed without you noticing, between soft conversations, shared laughter and knowing glances. There was no need for more words, just the feeling that the moment was flowing in a way that neither of you had anticipated, but that, somehow, both of you wanted.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

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servicpop · 1 day ago

Note

Which one of your oc reacts from the worst to the better one when s/o actually break up with them?

Make it nsfw? I wanna see some s/o getting pinned down and got punish lol

cw : slight non-con(?) and my ocs might be a bit toxic . . .

Adrien definitely acts the worst. He's obsessed with you remember ? The moment you go to him and tell him that you don't want to continue this little game of yours and you want him to leave you alone . . . sure , he'll respect you for a bit. But after a day or so and you're not texting him , not even looking at him , he'll go back to his old ways. Skipping classes , getting into fights and he swears he's going to crack the guy you smiled at's skull apart. He fully goes insane and after a week , he's blowing up your phone , chasing down your friends who are honestly surprised that he even knew of your existence. And when you finally agree to see him again , he's tearing off his clothing and pushing you up against the wall not even a foot away from the front door , groping at that soft flesh he missed so much. His words are an unintelligible mess of 'please take me back' and 'I'll fucking kill anyone you talk to.' Man is crazy about you !! He'll fuck you right outside the bedroom , pushing you up against the wall and pound into you because he's missed you way too much to wait any longer !

Vallen simply doesn't let it happen. You come up to his office with a nervous look on your face and when you spill the news he glances up through his reading glasses ( his eyes are getting sore from looking over so many documents >< ) and simply hums, curling his finger at you, instructing you to walk over to him. The moment you do , he pulls you onto his lap, gripping at your thighs as he stands up , letting your back fall across his desk. He's cruelly slow, pulling out all the way before slamming his hips against yours so hard that his pens rattle on his desk. "Found someone better than me?" He'd mutter before slowly pulling out just to ram himself back in. "I doubt it." He's too mean about it, slapping your thighs everytime you try and justify your reasons why you'd break up with him ! He's rich, gives you everything, loves and cares for you, why would you want to break up with him ?

Cole accepts it fully. He acts like a kicked puppy when you break the news to him. At first he'll ask you what he did wrong , if you weren't happy with him , if it was your job that make you break up with him. He tries his best to understand , especially since you're his first ever relationship with a man ! He won't stop going to your shows , won't stop sending you letters and flowers , but he does it all without showing his face ! He thinks you wouldn't want to see his face so he still shows his love through gifts and notes. It's not long before you cave in , all the gifts and letters still marked with paw prints and his signature at the bottom just pile up in your room and you miss him. Miss his caramel smile too much. Unlike the others , Cole doesn't jump to sex , he takes it slow by cuddling you , the limit of intimacy being kisses on your stomach ( he'll still believe you hate him until you reassure him 200x )

Callahan is exempt from this since he was never really in a relationship with you , but ! If he doesn't see you for an extended period of time ( basically breaking up ) he'll work even harder to track you down , asking for leads , retracing steps and finding you back at that motel where you two always seem to end up after every confrontation. He'll put you in cuffs , blabbering on some lie about how he'll put you in jail but just ends up stuffing your head in the pillow and pounding into your ass like he missed you ( which he did )

#servicpop — talks #servicpop — ocs

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skyward-floored · 3 days ago

Text

Whumptober Day 27 - Voiceless, “I have no mouth and I must scream”

I feel like I’ve been mean to Wind a lot heh, I feel bad for the little guy. It’s better than the three arrows I put in his chest in that other fic! ...Maybe, anyway.

Warnings: redeads

Ao3 link

————————————————————

Wind was not happy.

He struggled and kicked, tried to squirm out of the bruising hold on his arms, went limp and tried to just give the two soldiers dragging him along some underground passageway as worse of a time as possible. They’d already taken his weapons and only held him tighter as he struggled, but Wind kept it up anyway.

One of the Yiga grumbled in annoyance as Wind kicked at his legs, and he felt a glint of satisfaction.

“Rotten kid, that attitude will die plenty quick where you’re going,” the other Yiga snapped, ignoring Wind’s attempts to bite him. “This cell was for the hero, but what better way to lure him there than to dump his little brother in it first?”

“You built a cell underneath the outskirts of a village? Wow, that’s normal well-adjusted behavior,” Wind huffed, and one Yiga sneered.

“We merely adapted it for our purposes. And you’re the perfect person to test it out.”

Wind finally managed to clamp his jaws down on one of the soldier’s hands, and he yelled, gloves not thick enough to really protect him. The other one snatched at Wind and put a dagger to his throat before he could press his attack, and Wind reluctantly released the hand, getting the message.

“Link’ll never fall for your stupid trap anyway,” Wind said with a glare, and the Yiga both chuckled.

“Oh yes he will. Have fun, kid.”

A door was opened, and Wind was tossed through without any sort of fanfare, stumbling as he landed. He whirled back around to the door, but it was already closed and firmly locked.

Wind scowled at it, then turned to look around his prison, mind already turning towards thoughts of escape. Who did these Yiga guys think they were, kidnapping him off the street? He was the Hero of Winds! How had they even gotten the drop on him?

Wind scowled again and kicked at the floor of the cell. At least he’d been walking around with Four and Wild. Surely one of them would notice he was missing soon. And if not, well, Wind was pretty good at getting out of tight spots if he did say so himself.

No problem.

Wind put his hands on his hips, looking around the dark cell. There was a single tiny torch hung up on the wall, too high for Wind to reach that lit up the skinny space. A stone wall stood at the far end of the cell, but the two sides were open bars, darkness yawning beyond them.

It... kinda made his skin crawl.

Wind crossed his arms, feeling cold all of a sudden, but he shrugged it off with a huff. He needed to figure out how to get out of here, creepy darkness or not. The deep shadows beyond the bars suggested a bigger area, so if he could just find a loose one, he’d be set. Maybe he could even climb up and grab the torch.

Wind walked over to a side, starting at one end and giving each bar a solid shake. They seemed pretty firmly in the ground, but Wind worked his way across anyway, hoping for a loose one. He got all the way through without a single loose bar, and sighed, crossing to the other side to try there instead.

He’d gotten about halfway when he heard something, creaky and quiet.

Wind froze, listening, and the hair on the back of his neck went up as he heard it again. That noise was familiar. He couldn’t place it, but he knew it was familiar.

And that it was bad news.

A low moan came from somewhere in the darkness, and Wind slowly began to back away, nerves all alight. If he could just see he wouldn’t be nearly as nervous. Maybe the darkness was just freaking him out, and he was imagining noises because of that?

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, and Wind’s eyes went huge as a familiar sensation wracked through him, deathly cold and terrifying.

Oh no, he thought in a panic, his feet frozen to the floor, body unable to turn away from the shambling footsteps he could hear. Oh no oh no oh—

A face appeared in the flickering light of the torch, decaying and horrible, eyes glowing. A rotten hand stretched forward and wrapped around the bars, and Wind stared at the Redead, trapped in its unnatural terror.

It didn’t look like his version of them, taller, with a few ragged clothes on its lanky body, but the feeling it left him with was the same, sheer, unnatural terror.

I’ve got to get away, maybe by the door I’ll be far enough it won’t be able to—

A different scream rang out, sending another jolt through Wind’s chest, and he watched in horror as another redead grasped at the bars, reaching out to him, trying to pull him close. Beady eyes stared at him, glowing and malicious with hunger, and Wind might have whimpered if he could move his mouth.

He fought the paralysis as much as he could, but the moment it started to wear off, one of them screamed again, leaving Wind with no escape. More screams joined the first two, and Wind choked on his breath as a whole group of redeads shambled out of the darkness. Screams came near constantly from their lips as they grabbed at the bars and reached through, trying to get at him.

They can’t get through, they can’t get through they can’t hurt you, it’s just to scare you, Wind thought frantically, heart drumming in his chest. They don’t want you to escape that’s why they put them there you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay.

The screams just kept coming, endless and piercing and shooting Wind’s heart through with inescapable terror. He couldn’t even move to cover his ears, and he felt a terrified scream build in his own throat.

But it wouldn’t come out. Wind could only keep standing there, immobilized, tears trailing silently down his cheeks.

It felt like his heart was being encased in ice, frost shooting through his veins with every scream and grazing touch. More screams joined the agonizing chorus from behind him, and the terror felt like it would crush him, repeatedly crashing over him like a freezing wave.

Hands grabbed at him, nails grazing his skin. Wind couldn’t move, the torrential screams hammering at him, cracking him, filling him up with so much terror his mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

His world narrowed down to screams and beady eyes, Wind drowning in terror, eyes darting around wildly, mind screaming every time a hand grazed him.

If he could move he’d be curled up on the ground, but all he could do was stand here and sob in his mind as a deathly cold hand finally closed around his wrist.

Then a different noise rang out over the screams.

It was garbled in Wind’s ears, some sort of talking he couldn’t make out over the redeads’ shrieks. But suddenly music poured into the cell, cheery and bright, and the screaming stopped.

All of it.

Wind’s ears still rang with them, and the terror still pressed over him like a wet blanket, but there was finally silence, and the hand trying to drag Wind closer to the bars had stopped in its efforts, the redead’s mouth stuck open with its teeth bared.

Wind would’ve sobbed if he could move, and he heard footsteps and talking, his ears still ringing too much to make out. Strong arms pulled the hand off his wrist and cradled him to a chest, shouted something at the other sets of footsteps. The song trilled again, bright and warm, and though Wind still couldn’t do much as twitch his pinky, some of his panic eased as he felt a steady heartbeat against where his ear rested.

The others were here.

There must have been a trip out, but Wind missed most of it, still trapped in the lingering screams he could hear in his mind. Tears trickled steadily down his cheeks, and past the unnaturally sharp fear was a flicker of annoyance at crying so much.

But the terror mostly blotted it out.

Sunshine finally fell onto his face, warm and soft, and whoever was holding Wind lowered themselves to a knee. A face looked down at him, and Wind saw Twilight, eyes fearful.

“Hey Wind, you alright?” he asked, and Wind could only stare at him, heart pounding, terror still clenching like a talon around him. “Wind?”

“Is he okay?” someone else asked, and Twilight leaned back, Time and Wild’s faces both coming into view next.

“He’s not responding,” Twilight replied, and Time leaned in, studying Wind’s face with a worried look.

“Wind, can you hear me?” Time asked, setting a hand on his chest.

I can hear you fine, I just can’t move! Wind wanted to scream, but his mouth was still frozen shut. The only thing that he was still able to do was cry, apparently.

Time gently wiped his tears away, and if Wind wasn’t still so terrified, he was sure he’d be embarrassed. “Do we know how long he was down there?”

“An hour, hour and a half? No more than two based on when we started looking,” a voice Wind placed as Wild added anxiously. Oh good, he avoided the trap. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a long time to be around an attacking redead, no less dozens of them like he was,” Time replied, gently tilting Wind’s head around as he looked at it. “Usually the song fixes things, I have no idea why he’s still frozen like this.”

“Prolonged exposure I’d guess,” Four’s voice added, and Twilight’s hand combed gently through his hair. “It might just take him longer to break out of it. He’s so cold...”

“I still can’t believe we lost sight of him like that,” Wild said quietly, and a different hand touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wind.”

Oh Wild, it’s not your fault, Wind thought, trying to look the champion in the eye and convey the sentiment. I’d tell you so if I could.

Some more footsteps pounded against the grass suddenly, and the amount of voices around Wind doubled, more faces leaning over to look at him, worried questions floating over his head. The other Links had obviously joined the group, and Wind struggled even harder against the paralysis making him nothing but deadweight. But he remained as frozen as ever, a scream still stuck in his throat, ice around his heart.

“Give him space, I’m pretty sure he’s aware of what’s going on and you all are crowding him,” Warriors’ voice chided, and the majority of heads pulled back from his view. The captain’s face appeared in his line of sight, full of worry. “Wind? Can you move anything? Even just something small?”

Wind started at his feet and worked his way upward this time, trying to move anything he could. Fear still thrummed through him, his body on high alert, tears tracking down his cheeks, but he finally managed to twitch his eyelids a little.

“Hey, there we go,” Warriors said with relief in his eyes. “Can you do it again?”

Wind focused, managing another twitch, and almost did a full blink when he tried again. Warriors’ face was still worried, but he looked encouraged by even the tiny movement.

“Here, let me see if this helps some more,” Time said then, and Twilight shifted Wind around in his arms so his head was a little more upright.

Time pulled out his ocarina, purplish blue in the sunshine, and he played the trilling song again, the one Wind finally recognized as the song of passing. Time played it through a couple times, magic falling over Wind like a beam of sunlight. He was surprised the time of day itself didn’t change, but maybe Time was stopping it from doing that somehow.

Suddenly the magic loosened something inside him, the icy terror cracking, thawing a little. Some feeling swept back into his body, and the scream that had been stuck in Wind’s throat this whole time suddenly burst out, loud and terrified.

Time immediately stopped playing, and Wind began to tremble as feeling slowly spread to the rest of him, his scream ending in a hiccup. It felt amazing to finally give voice to the horrible coldness in him, and Wind barely noticed when a thumb brushed along his cheek.

“Wind?” Time asked quietly, and Wind breathed in a shaking breath, firmly blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Th-thank, tha-ank y-you,” he managed get out in a miserable-sounding whimper.

Sighs of relief went up around him, and Time gave Wind a smile, even with the way Wind was shaking and still unable to stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

“You’re welcome Sailor,” Time replied, and brushed a few more of his tears away.

Wind managed a shaky smile back, then relaxed into Twilight’s arms, more and more of the ice in his chest melting away into bright sunshine.

#day 13 continuation tomorrow (or next anyway. might not be tomorrow)#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu wind #lu time #fic #whumptober #whumptober 2024 #no.27 #voiceless #i have no mouth and i must scream #writing from the floor #another one dowwwwn #I’m excited for 28 and 29!#...I also don’t have particular plans for 30 or 31 lol so we’ll see about those #maybe ill give in and do something with an oc Link

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aewon · 7 hours ago

Text

golden

heeseung x f!reader g: fluff, angst ⚠️ : cursing, kissing wc: 1.8k

—————————————————————————

Growing up wasn’t easy for you.

Your sister was the golden child, loved by all, hated by none.

You on the other hand were the “other” child in your parents lives.

The one who didn’t get as much attention no matter what you did.

You yearned for the affection and praise from your parents that your sister got daily.

Even in school, your sister was popular with many friends while you had a small few.

You knew your sister truly hated you when you confided in her about a crush you had sophomore year, and she began dating him a week later.

Everything you wanted, your sister got.

Every birthday she was showered with love and lavish gifts, while yours were days mostly spent with friends as less effort was given by your family.

Family…can you even call them that?

It was at 18 when you decided to go low contact with your family, your sister included.

You vowed not to let them hurt you anything with their lack of care for you.

You’re now in your senior year of college, and living without being in your sister's shadow has brought more happiness to you than you could have ever imagined.

She decided to pursue school out of state, while you stayed.

You’re going to be graduating top of your class, but of course your sister’s graduation is overshadowing that.

Which is why when you get the text from your parents inviting you home to celebrate your sister, you want nothing more than to say no.

But you know if you do, they’ll raise questions and it’ll be a whole repeat of the conversation you tried having years ago.

Before you left, you tried talking to your parents about your feelings. How you felt inferior to your sister in their eyes.

They, of course, vehemently denied any accusation of favoritism, claiming you were overreacting.

That was the end of that.

So, you suck it up, telling them you’ll be there.

Your apartment and school are a good hour and a half away from your hometown.

You make the drive the next day, dreading being in the same room as your family for the next 2-3 hours.

When you arrive, the house is already crowded.

You pass uncles, aunts, cousins.

None of them bother to greet you, making you regret coming already.

When you find your parents and sister, they make half an effort to greet you.

“Sis, I’m so glad you could make it,” your sister says.

“Congratulations.” You smile, albeit awkwardly.

Without even saying thank you, she rushes off to greet one of her friends.

You saunter away from your parents, finding a somewhat quiet corner to bury yourself in.

You’re scrolling through your phone when someone sits next to you.

You’re surprised to see Lee Heeseung, one of your sister's friends since high school.

You think he’s just sitting down to relax, but then he’s talking to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You look up, “…Hi?”

You remember whenever your sister had friends over, you weren’t allowed to talk to them because it upset her.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” Heeseung says.

“Yeah, I moved a couple towns away for college.”

“How have you been?”

“Great! I’m graduating this year.”

Heeseung, who's the same age as your sister, graduated before you.

“Congrats, that’s a big deal. Are your parents gonna arrange a party for you too?”

Your smile slowly fades, “Probably not.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “Why not?”

You want to tell the truth, the fact that your parents have never cared for you the way they do your sister.

The neglect, the lack of affection, you want to spill everything.

But, he probably won’t believe you, so you wave it off, “I’m just not really a party type.”

He looks like he’s about to say more when you hear your sister squeal his name from across the yard.

Before you know it, she’s rushed over, grabbing Heeseung by the sleeve and dragging him toward their friend group.

You sigh, it’s probably better you don’t talk to him anyway.

The hours drag on and your parents gather everyone’s attention, clanking a fork on a wine glass.

“We’re so happy to have everyone important to S/N here to celebrate her special day. 23 years ago we gave birth to the light of our life and everyday has been a blessing. Our daughter is smart, hardworking, kind and so much more. We can’t think of anyone more deserving. Please, a toast, to S/N.”

Everyone raises their glasses, toasting to her.

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the tears that begin to form.

Getting up, you quietly leave the backyard, heading upstairs to your old room.

It’s empty, with nothing but a bed and dresser, no essence of you anywhere.

When you moved out, you made sure to take everything with you.

Now, as you sit on the bed, you let the tears fall.

You knew your parents didn’t care for you the way they did your sister. Yet, some part of you still hoped you had a place in their hearts, but clearly that was not the case.

This feels like a knife was twisted in your heart.

“Y/N?”

Heeseung’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he enters the room.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, coming to sit beside you on the bed.

“It’s nothing,” you say, wiping your tears frantically.

“You’re crying, Y/N, that’s not nothing.”

“Why are you here, Heeseung? Why are you talking to me?

“Because you’re sad, and I hate to see you sad.” His eyes are soft, looking at you like you’re fragile.

“You don’t even know me Heeseung, why do you care if I’m sad or not?”

Without warning he cups your face, pulling you forward into a kiss.

Your eyes are wide open in shock, before you relax in his hold, closing your eyes and enjoying the kiss.

Your lips move desperately, as he scoots impossibly closer.

You’re so drawn into the kiss, you don’t hear the footsteps making their way upstairs.

“What the fuck!”

You hear your sister’s voice and immediately break away.

“S/N-” You try to speak but she cuts you off.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? I’ve always told you to stay away from my friends and this is what you do in return. You know he’s mine.”

You look between her and Heeseung, stuttering out an apology before you rush out of the room.

Running downstairs, you hear footsteps behind you and you run into the living room.

“What happened?” Your father asks as S/N and Heeseung follow closely behind you.

“Y/N apparently thinks it’s okay to kiss another girl's man,” S/N says, huffing.

Your parents turn to you, disgust evident on their faces.

You know it shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

“Is this true?” Your mother asks.

“I…I didn’t know—” You’re grasping at straws, trying to defend yourself.

Everyone is staring at you, looks of disappointment on everyone’s faces.

You feel a new onset of tears coming down and without another word you rush out of the house.

S/N watches you go, then turns her attention to Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” She asks, “Did she force herself on you? I swear I’m gonna—”

“Stop!” Heeseung shouts, silencing everyone’s whispers.

“She didn’t force herself on me S/N are you fucking crazy? I kissed her!”

S/N has the audacity to look confused. “Why would you do that? You know you and I are—”

“We’re nothing!” Heeseung shouts. “We have never been anything more than friends and we never will be.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually like her? She’s a loser, why would you like someone like her?” S/N is blabbering at this point, saying whatever is in her mind.

Heeseung looks at her in utter shock, terrified that someone could talk about their own sister like that.

“You know what I think S/N? I think you’re a spoiled, bratty, insignificant human being. The fact that you could talk about your sister like that, your own family, is appalling. I don’t know what planet you’re living on, but this one doesn’t revolve around you.”

S/N is shocked, “What do you mean? I’m insignificant? She’s the one who’s insignificant!”

Heeseung smirks, “I get it now. You’re jealous. Jealous that she’s pretty, that she’s smart, kind, successful… everything you’re not. And it seems you’ve been nothing but enabled your whole life,” he says with his gaze on your parents.

With that, he heads out the door in your direction.

He gazes down both sides of the street, looking for your figure.

Heeseung finally spots you, on the other side of the road, down a hill that leads to a park.

He jogs, nearly tripping on his way down.

He approaches you cautiously, hearing your small sniffles.

You’re sitting on a bench, criss-crossed, head buried in your hands.

He sits next to you, “Y/N.”

You glance at him, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you. What S/N said isn’t true. We’re not together, in any way.”

You sit up, “Even so, we shouldn’t have been talking to each other in the first place.”

“Why? Because S/N doesn’t like it? Who cares what she thinks!”

“S/N has always been the favorite. Everything she wanted, she got. I.. I never meant anything to my parents, no matter what I did.”

“They’ve enabled her behavior, haven’t they?”

You nod, “For years, I just wanted some kind of acknowledgment from them. But I know I’ll never get it, especially not now.”

“You don’t need people like that in your life. You deserve to be surrounded by people who appreciate you and give you what you deserve,” Heeseung says, pouring his heart out in hopes you’ll understand.

“Like who?”

“Like me.” He smiles. “I didn’t kiss you for no reason. I like you, Y/N.”

Your beautiful eyes blink up at him, “Me? Why? We’ve barely interacted in the past.”

Heeseung leans back against the bench, looking up at the sky like he’s thinking.

“Well, it all started when I came to your house for the first time. I came into your kitchen for water and you were just standing there, looking beautiful as ever. We didn’t talk other than you saying ‘excuse me’ but I knew then that I liked you.”

For the first time today, you smile, a genuine smile.

“That was my first kiss.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened in surprise, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay. I liked it,” you say, reassuring him.

He smiles back at you, “Then, can I do it again?”

You don’t answer with words, instead leaning forward to peck his lips.

He chases your lips, pressing them together again, longer this time.

When you part, he looks blissful. “Y/N, would you give me the honor of taking you on a date?”

You lean into his side, snuggling into it as he wraps his arm around you.

“I’d like that.”

For once, you have something your sister doesn’t, and damn does it feel good.

—————————————————————————

note: hi, this is based off the number of reddit stories i’ve read about golden child’s and bullshit like that so hehe, enjoy

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sendpseuds · 2 days ago

Note

Voter registration AU sounds so goooood already! Please more if you have more ideas!

"Mr. Skywalker."

Anakin recognizes the voice immediately, a wild chill running down his spine before he can turn to face the man who has been running through his mind for weeks.

"I'm glad to see you've chosen to do your civic duty after all."

He wasn't going to.

He never has before.

Hell, until last month, Anakin hadn't even been registered to vote.

Not until he met Obi-Wan.

Usually, he has no problem speed-walking past those annoying mall canvassers —putting his hood up and his head down, pretending he can't hear the pleas for "just a moment of your time," not caring if they want to talk about the rainforest or his electric bill — but when a smooth voice had broken through the haze of his thoughts, Anakin found himself staring into the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

The same eyes looking at him now.

Eyes Anakin had been too caught up in to lie when the man asked if he was registered to vote in a low and lilting voice that had his mind blank of any reasonable excuse. He'd barely been able to pay attention as Obi-Wan walked him through the shockingly simple process, nodding along with words he wasn't listening to and answering the questions as if the responses were automatic, agreeing readily when the man offered to make him a voting plan.

At no point during this process did Anakin actually intend to go through with said plan.

That was until—

"Yeah, well, I kinda know one of the volunteers," Anakin says with a tilted smile, trying to swallow the blush he can feel beginning to heat his cheeks, determined not to trip over himself the way he had all those weeks ago when Obi-Wan casually commented on the coincidence of being assigned to Anakin's district and suddenly voting had become his top priority, "I didn't want to disappoint him."

The words come out confident and cool even as his heart skips at the way Obi-Wan smiles and suddenly Anakin thinks maybe he hadn't been halucinating the heated energy between them.

"Well," Obi-Wan hums teasingly, those stunning eyes shifting from sky blue to silver to sage and back again as he flashes a playful grin, "you haven't actually voted yet."

In the weeks since he met Obi-Wan, Anakin has been fantasizing about this moment— what he'd do, what he'd say, how he'd convince the man to fuck him in a voting booth [which now that he sees that a "booth" is little more than a plastic divider on a table, he's realizing isn't exactly an option.]

Even in the most subdued scenarios where he stutters his way through asking the man for his number, one thing is clear—

He won't get another chance.

Might as well go for it.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

Obi-Wan blinks.

"Is that what I—" he repeats the words slowly, his eyebrows shooting up when he registers the flirtation beneath the words, "Anakin—"

"You want me to do my civic duty?"

He's pushing it and he knows it — ducking his head, batting his lashes, sucking his lip — but he'd rather get rejected like this than walk out of here and wonder.

"I—" Obi-Wan stutters, his eyes tracking over the younger man's features before finally dropping to his mouth and Anakin can't help but sink his teeth into the flesh of his lower lip, trying not to smile the moment he sees the reservation drain from those bright beautiful eyes, "Yes. I do."

Victory.

"I may need a little— guidance," Anakin teases, stepping closer, his voice low like a secret, "This is my first time you know."

It doesn't take long to get checked in and into a "booth" with his ballot and a blue bic pen and though his entire body is begging for whatever comes next, there is a strange moment of clarity as he stares down at the paper before him.

It feels— important.

When he feeds his completed ballot into the machine and turns to find Obi-Wan wearing a smug smile, Anakin thinks the only thing better than feeling pride in himself is seeing it in those incredible eyes.

"So—" Anakin hums as he approaches the man, ducking his head and looking up through his lashes, "Do I get a reward?"

Obi-Wan hums consideringly, his initial shock long since past, that cool control back in place even as he lets his gaze linger on Anakin's lips far longer than anyone would consider decent.

"Of course you do, darling."

It takes every last ounce of control in Anakin's body not to simply fall to his knees right there in the middle of a church's rec room.

Then the bastard holds up an I VOTED sticker with a shit-eating grin and a wink and he thinks he might just explode.

"A sticker?" Anakin grunts through gritted teeth, his voice both desperate and disappointed despite his best efforts but when a large hand lands on his shoulder, warm and heavy, a knot in his chest eases.

"I want you to wear it."

It's like being struck by lightning—

The way Obi-Wan's steady words skitter down his spine.

He can't get that stupid fucking sticker on fast enough.

It's only then, as he's about to crumple up the flimsy strip of backing film that he sees it—

Ten numbers.

Neat handwriting.

Blue ink.

And when that voice rumbles low in his ear, Anakin can honestly say, he's never been more excited for an election night in his life.

"The polls close at eight."

#for the love of star wars #go vote #voter registration au #ficlet #drabbles

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melanieph321 · 2 days ago

Note

Hi, could you do a Ruben Dias x reader x Josko Gvardiol👀

OMG OMG OMG! 🙈🙈

10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 2)

Ruben Dias/Joško Gvardiol x Reader - Tussle Of Three

18+

Must be nice. Is all I can say. 😝

Enjoy! 💞

They weren't fighting over you. Why would they? When you wanted them both.....at the sametime.

Ruben wasn't shy about a threesome. However, he did feel some type of way about sharing you with someone else. Someone who wanted you as much as him.

Badlier even.

"Come here Y/N, sit on my lap."

"She's not going anywhere."

Joško rolled his eyes at Ruben's paranoia. Although his teammate agreed to experiment, Ruben was far from getting a participation medal afterwards, that was forsure. "Relax mate. I just want her to be comfortable, and she will be....on my lap."

Ruben's hand tightened around your arm and that's when you knew to interfere. "Guys. Come on." The dimmed hotel room was already steamy enough. "Why fight when we can fuck?"

Both men grinned.

After a couple of persuasive kisses Ruben let you walk over to the bed, to Joško, who greated you with rough hands that tugged off the straps of your dress, sliding the fabric down your naked shoulders.

As stubborn as he was, Ruben sat back and watched another man play with his wife. He sat back in the leather chair placed in the corner of the baroque suite. He sat back with a hand in his pants, stroking himself slowly as he saw your body unravel in the darkness.

"God." You moaned, to the sensation of Joško's hand moving between your thighs.

"Nah, leave him out of this." He chuckled against your skin. His free hand was brought to your back, steading you before traveling downwards to slap the swollen flesh of your ass, leaving a stinging mark.

"Careful." Ruben hissed, ushering a warning in a steady voice. He had stopped stroking himself, eyes narrowed at the bed.

"What can I say?" Joško teased with a smile. "I couldn't help myself. Sorry"

"It's okay baby, I liked it." You assured, watching Ruben over your shoulder. He grunted in response, a signal for the two of you to continue. You did so in a matter of foreplay. What Joško did to your body was only a fraction of what your husband's darkest fantasies intended. Joško was actually sweet compared to Ruben. Although he made his teammate watch on as he tortured you by burying his fingers deep inside of your pussy while his mouth latched onto the crest of your breasts, taking his time with your stiff nipples in his wet mouth.

You squirmed above him, struggling to keep still. The pleasure was building up to something intense, something dangerously on the verge of rupturing. But just as you wanted to explode, Ruben tapped in with a heavy hand on your shoulder. "I'll take it from here."

You came down from the high with an unsatisfied whimper as Josko stepped aside. No questions asked. He knew better than to get in the way of Ruben and his desire for you.

Wait!" You protested.

This was meant to be a threesome. Something for the three of you to enjoy. What was the point of having all three of you in the same room if one person was constantly forced to stand back and watch?

"Babe, is this not okay for you?" Ruben looked to you in concern.

"No."

He immediately backed off.

"Wait, no. I mean yes. Yes, this is okay for me. However..." You reached for your husband's hand and did the same thing with Joško's. "I want all three of us to enjoy this. Please, it's what we came here for."

The two men regarded each other skeptically, a stand off between two lovers. But then Ruben initiated a peace offering by leaning forward and pressing a feather-like kiss to your neck. He then moved you to stand to the side of him while he did the same thing to Joško, his lips lingering a bit longer against his teammates pale skin. The men shared a knowing glanced and went onto offer you a seat on the bed.

"After you." Joško nodded at Ruben, who gladly got rid of the rest of his clothes, joining you on the bed. Joško did the same, stripping himself naked to let his erect cock and clenching muscles reveal his egerness for a tussle of three.

Your heart fluttered having two men sandwich you on a dream bed, their erect penises grinding against you like thick lodges. For a second, while drowning in the caressing of your body, a sudden fear struck you. An irrational fear that these two men wider in size and height, could do as they pleased with you. In any way they wished to. For as long as they wished to and as hard as they wished to.

But this was Ruben you were fearing. Your loving husband who, despite the unethical situation, whispered sweet nothings in your ear as if you were alone, making love in your bed at home. Even Joško, with his barbaric appearance, never forced you into uncomfortable positions without reminding you of your safeword of the night. And his lips upon your body, his tounge sometimes inside of it, never drove you over an edge you weren't prepared to leap from.

Together, the two men made you the center of attention. Taking turns to please you in ways you never thought possible. They left you tender and warm skinned. Heat generating from places one would never expect to generate as much moisture as it did. And when it all eventually came to a finish, sunlight had begun creeping into the room.

By that time you had transformed into one. One thrusting body. Ruben and Joško, taking you from the front and behind as you cried out the final rises of pleasure. The fifteenth time that night.

DON'T MISS - 10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 1)

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #josko gvardiol x reader #josko gvardiol #josko gvardiol imagine

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ruruumin · 8 hours ago

Text

put me in, coach

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x fem! reader.

⤷ you were given one last chance in the industry.

with a sharp inhale, you choked up a sob, biting down on the bottom of your lip as you lay on the ground, helplessly waiting for a medic to pick you up. your cheeks were burning with a mixture of humiliation and frustration. on the ground like a helpless damsel, you were waiting to be saved by someone. you were holding onto the fake grass with enough force to rip the tarp below. sweat and drool dripped down your chin as you shivered. eyes staring up at the clear clouds as you trembled. your lungs started to hurt every time you breathed and you swore you had the wind knocked out of you.

squeezing your leg muscle with one hand, you restrained seething tears. looking up at your opponent, you were left wide-eyed as they stood above you, the sun shining down on their figure as they smiled slowly, their pupils collapsing in on themselves like a spiral wishing well. they watched gleefully as you were carried away on a stretcher.

after making it past the dark tunnels and into a private room, you finally let yourself cry for the first time in years. an unfortunate mishap that caused you not only the world cup but your pride. you held your face in your hands, covering it from the blinding lights from what you assume to be the inside of an ambulance.

→ WORLD-CLASS ATHLETE (NAME) TEARS THEIR ACL: IS THIS THE END OF HER SOCCER CAREER?

↳ retrogamer129: no way, this might be the end of (name)’s career

↳ fuumuni: did you guys see the way the other team sabotaged her? so fucked up

↳ (name)fangirl101: they need to be held responsible, if you look back on the clips, you can see they had no remorse for what they did

↳ cherrybomb_249: it looked like it could have been an accident. don’t point fingers and ruin someone else’s soccer career over a mistake

that was a year ago.

after you tore your acl, you weren’t able to go back on the field as you used to. because of your absence, your team couldn’t make it to the world cup. they lost a crucial part of their team and with your career hanging on a balance, the club you were once in had to disband. it was a cruel fate for any athlete.

everyone hears stories about people’s dreams getting cut short. and not a single person wants to be in that story, including you.

tucking in your legs slightly, you wrap your arms around your muscles. pressing your forehead against your knees, you think about the events that led up to this moment. when you were younger, you would play a lot of soccer with itoshi sae, a close friend of yours. he had this light, red-bean-colored hair with his bangs pulled back, exposing his permanent scowl. he was a good player. taught you a few tricks that led to you getting into a fancy soccer club.

he had a rowdy little brother that seemed to always look up to you. when he wasn’t playing with his dinosaur toys, he would be at your practices, watching you kick the ball into the goal. your friends used to think he admired you on the same level he did for sae. after all, he’d always tug on your hand whenever you bought him popsicles, insisting that you share with him (a rare feat his mother once told you, rin doesn’t like to share).

he and sae shared a lot of similarities. whether it be the scowl on his face or the way they both liked those cheap blue popsicles from the convenience store, they were bound by more than just blood. they had a lot of talent riding on them.

when you left to go study abroad, you were a little sad to see a tiny rin wave to you at the airport. it was pretty obvious he was holding back tears. you were the first in his little circle to leave japan. the second would be his older brother sae, who followed closely behind you, insisting that there would be better players out in the world.

unlike sae however, you would frequently keep up with rin on the phone. calling him once in a while, checking up on his studies and watching recorded videos of his games, it felt like things hadn’t changed. you knew in your heart that the two itoshi brothers had something special within them, something so odd it kept you on your toes, expecting something spectacular.

when you left japan, you met another oddball: a tall, lanky man who loved nothing but soccer. he was your coach leading up to the world cup. you figure that if he could be anything in the world, he would want to be the best striker in the entire universe (and beyond, if aliens and other extraterrial life existed).

you were only able to play a few games with him while he was training you. however, in that short amount of time, you learned more than you ever could. from small quips here and there about a person’s talent and ego, as well as the brutal reality that is over exhausting yourself, he was one of the best coaches you had to this day. on short trips, you would begin to piece together things about him. from the foods he wanted to eat, to his biggest dream, he was certainly a character. even more so when his parents named him after a very unique word: ego. and ego was something he never lacked in.

so when a mysterious letter shows up at your doorstep, you were sure that it was something related to him.

✦

“please welcome my former student and previous runner-up for the world cup: (name) (last name).”

walking through the dramatic double-sliding doors, you push back your bangs, tilting your head off to the side as you observe the large room. instead of wearing the typical blue-lock, skin-tight uniform, the boys were provided with, you were thankfully given something more comfortable and lax. the only requirement you had was to keep your lanyard on it at all times, as your id card was the only way you could access most of the doors.

“they’ll be training and determining whether or not you’ll make it to the next selection. if you play less than satisfactory, you can kiss your soccer dreams goodbye,” ego claps his hands together, treating them more like dogs than people, “for this small buffer period, you’ll be playing against each other using your current team.”

“why is a girl teaching us? couldn’t you have gotten someone from the men’s world cup?”

“isn’t she injured still?”

ego hums, cracking his neck as he pulls it to the side, “why does it matter? she was my student. a good one too. even with her leg, she’ll still make a valuable coach. it’d be a waste to let that level of talent slip by and rot.”

swallowing your nervousness, he continues, “when you get older, you’ll start to understand.”

with that, ego turns his body around, straightening his back as he walks through the double doors. you suppose that’s all he has to say about you. he surprisingly said nice things. when you were training with him, you could only remember how blunt and disconnected his words were. to think he had a bit of a nice side made you a little unnerved.

though, not as much as the overwhelmingly cold stare you felt.

a shiver runs down your spine. rotating your body in the direction of danger, you see rin in the crowd, standing with a firm yet disappointed expression. whether or not it was directed towards you remains a mystery. you cowardly avoid his gaze, unsure if you even want to see him right now.

or perhaps the better choice of words is: you don’t want him to see you.

when you left for the world cup, you promised him that you would return with something to show. to come back to japan with nothing meant you failed in more ways than one. not only did you let your team, club, and country down, you had shattered the promise you had given to rin several years ago. at the very least, sae had something to show, but for you? there was nothing. all you had was the legacy you left behind for the next person to take up. a stepping stone for someone else’s ambition.

now the boy you used to share popsicles with was growing far out of your reach. not only was he a lot taller and leaner, he was getting better at an alarming rate. and with him at blue lock, it was almost certain you’d see his name show up in the u-20 match that ego had promised.

you’re starting to feel pressure rising to your ears. it feels like water getting tunneled through your ear canals, deafening any sort of noise that flies past you. if it was anyone else, would they have fallen this low? or was it destined just for you? everything was starting to feel dizzy at this point.

squeezing your eyes shut, you quickly follow behind ego’s footsteps, dragging yourself out of the field as a familiar pair of turquoise eyes harden on your retreating figure.

✦

“this is a lot harder than i thought.” as the day comes to an end, some of the boys at blue lock are finally settling into their rooms. gathering around at the edges of their bed, they sat up with a sigh of relief, finally free from the training they call hell (for now, of course.)

most of them thought that training would be as easy as any other task. however, they underestimated blue lock again. instead of a standardized test like shooting goals, every person had a different task and weakness they needed to work on. for example, reo needed help to hone his technique, nagi had to work on his stamina, and isagi had a full-body workout to perfect his direct shots. everyone else was in the same boat, having been worked to their bones.

chigiri falls back onto his soft, comfortable mattress, too tired to even brush out the knots in his hair. “she’s really strict. i had to do 30 laps around the field before i could even shoot a goal.”

“i would have never expected her to be so strict.” isagi comments, “i knew she was good but this is on another level. it feels like she can see right through us. i have to admit, my muscles are feeling prepped and ready for our next match.”

“only you would think about it so positively,” these were nagi’s last words before he closes his eyes, falling asleep immediately like a light switch.

isagi scratches the back of his neck, “this might be the hardest test so far. it doesn’t look like rin isn’t having it any easier.”

at the mention of his name, the rest of the room groans in unison. in the other room, there were two people left on the pitch.

raising his right leg, rin kicks the ball with as much spin and force as he can. watching as it soars through the air and curves to the top left of the goal, it collides with the net with a satisfying sound. raising his eyebrow, he quickly looks over at your direction, seeing you crouched down with an unamused expression. this reaction causes him to deflate slightly.

“again.”

hitting the ball once more, it spins with the same amount of curve but with more power. the force from his kick nearly knocked over the goal entirely. even though it was better than his previous shot, there was no denying the cold, slick sound of your voice cutting through the air like butter.

“again.”

same with the third time, you continue to ask him for the same kick over, and over again. and while he’s all for long training sessions in soccer, this was getting ridiculous even for him. for once, he’s feeling the burn in his legs and the tickling sensation on the tip of his tongue. bending over slightly, he wipes away the small trickle of drool that escapes his lips.

“why am i doing the same thing? we should be moving onto something else.”

“because it’s not good enough.” you reply, tapping your fingers on a small screen, “with a kick like that, it’s difficult for it to be properly reproduced. your accuracy is slightly off at times and the power you put in is fluctuating.”

standing up from your position, you brush the dirt off your knees, “i think we have to move onto doing laps.”

“no.”

“huh?”

“i can make the next shot.”

“i said,” stepping forward, you press a finger to his chest, “to do another lap.”

his gaze sharpens to a pinpoint. wiping away the bead of sweat on his temple, he huffs. slapping your hand away, he stands before you, unwavering in his form. only now can you see how much taller he was compared to you. he was towering over you at this point, looming with a force that was weighing you down. wrapping your fingers around your tablet, you try to straighten your back, exhaling with nervousness.

“what is it?”

with him being so close to you, he can see the way your eyes have aged over time. they no longer held the same light he grew up seeing. the fiery passion that once ignited your soul has now died into a small, handheld flame he could smother in an instant. things have changed drastically since he last saw you at the airport.

are you going to come home soon? when is the next time i’ll see you? rin asked, holding onto his older brother’s hand. although it must have been at least 5 years since he said those words, he could still taste the sweet and bitter chocolate croissant you bought for him. hit was early in the morning when you were about to board the next flight. alongside your mother and father, his family was accompanying you to the airport, ready to say their final goodbyes.

only when i win the world cup! you replied, throwing up a confident peace sign in his direction, when i come back, we can play as much as you want, okay?

you promise?

yup! popping the p, you turned around and waved, grinning for what felt to be the last time.

instead of coming home with the smile he always dreamt of, you returned timid and afraid. after losing the world cup to another team, you had lost everything. from trophies to any victory you had before, it was gone in an instant. in one, final… crushing blow to the knee. he had always hoped it wouldn’t be you on the stretcher. now that it’s been an entire year, the truth remains the same.

“since when did you look this pathetic?” he brushes you aside, drawing a breath between his lips, “you used to be the best player, right next to sae,” you can hear him grit his teeth at the slightest mention of him, “and now you’re playing coach to a bunch of children.”

“what?”

“you heard me. you’re wasting your time here.” rin reaches out to one of the soccer balls on the ground, rolling it against the tip of his foot. you stand off to the side, unable to form a coherent sentence to rebut him.

“what happened to you that day?”

you only remember the painful ride to the hospital. a cramped ambulance with five paramedics on the scene pushing down on your muscles. so when rin asks you about the events that led to this moment, your lips grow dry and chapped.

→ POSSIBLE SABOTAGE FROM ITALY? (NAME)’S TORN ACL CAUSES TROUBLE FOR HER TEAM

↳ numba1soccerfan10: (name) was totally robbed at the last play

↳ jurassic_lover: nah i think she got skill diff’d, she wasn’t all that good anyway

↳ gojoisthebest03857: are you crazy?? did we even watch the same game

→ TOP TEN WORST ATHLETE INJURIES OF ALL TIME

↳ furumuni: that’s so fucked up, (name) just got injured and there's already a youtube video about it.

↳ silent_ninja: all these clips are insane to watch

→ (NAME)’S RETIREMENT? WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO THE NEXT UPCOMING STRIKER?

↳ (name)fangirl101: she’ll bounce back, she has to

↳ [deleted]: this is some serious cope

→ ANOTHER UNFORTUNATE CASE OF A TORN ACL: (NAME)’S CAREER HANGS ON A BALANCE, WILL SHE RECOVER?

↳ JBlue: if she can recover, it’ll be a miracle.

“shut up,” you say, standing your ground as the world around you begins to spin.

the plain white walls of the facility bleed into your vision. it melts alongside the memories of being subjected to the long ambulance ride to the hospital. a blinding light that never leaves you. everything comes apart so easily when you’re reminded of that awful ride to hell.

“just face it, you’re lukewarm.”

before rin can make any other comments, a ball collides with his nose head-on. he falls to the ground in shock. eyes blown wide as he looks up at your heaving figure. your breaths were becoming sporadic and difficult to control. everything around you looked like it was contorting. from the blue and black uniforms to the redness in rin’s cheek, life itself was beginning to morph into a terrifying sludge. yet despite this, the black and white color of the soccer ball was impossible to miss.

it was the only thing you could see.

so when you slammed that ball towards rin using your non-dominant foot, it wasn’t because of malice. you didn’t hate him for the words he was saying. to an extent, they were true. but there was something about this sport that made you keep going, a drive that has you up in its arms.

that kick was love. it was love for a sport that has flown too far out of your reach.

with this chance at blue lock being your last chance at staying within this exclusive world, you were determined to stay within its reach.

“i’m the last person you should be calling lukewarm.”

→ (NAME)’S RETURN TO THE SCENE AS BLUE LOCK’S NEXT COACH

#₊˚ ᗢ ruruumin #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader

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lorenzozurzolocanruinmylife · 24 hours ago

Text

Until fate do us together -Theo Nott x f.reader

t.w. Light drugs, fainting and I think nothing else but lmk if I should add something

You didn’t think of yourself as a mysterious person, not really. Anyone could look at your face and know exactly what you were thinking in that split second.

So it was admittedly hard for you to keep a secret, not because you had a big blabbering mouth, perhaps you thought of yourself as the perfect embodiment of loyalty, just as your house Hufflepuff wanted. But your face couldn’t hold in any emotion, no matter how hard you tried to fight to keep up your poker face.

The only secret you had never ever showed was the one that kept you up at night, the one that made your blood pump through your veins faster than ever.

You liked someone.

It wasn’t anyone, it was Theodore Nott, heir of one of the most illustrious and respected (and feared) families in the wizarding world.

Theo, as he preferred to be called, was a sight for sore eyes, he had some sort of gloomy look that paradoxically could heat up the fire within every girl, even the most uptight.

As of now that’s really all you could tell about him, because even though you were extremely extroverted and nice with everyone you never dared to interact with him. How could you? You didn’t trust yourself, you just knew that it would have taken one look to let him know loud and clear that you could’ve died for him.

You didn’t wanna take that chance, because if he rejected you, or really just ignored you, it would have destroyed your self confidence and not only, but also your safe place. Because after all those years that you spent fantasizing about him and you together, you had built such comforting reality that was just way better than the one you were actually living in.

This whole thing was ridiculous, and you knew it, but it became something too important for you to fumble in just one shot, so you just ignored him.

You avoided him in any possible way, anytime you had a class together you asked the professors if you could change your schedule, anytime there was a party or an event in which he could have been you didn’t go, you avoided each and every member of his friend group because you didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

But then again fate never lets anyone decide for themselves.

In an awfully quiet night in the greenhouse you had just finished setting all the plants and feeding them when you thought you deserved a treat for your hard work, and because of the stressful week you had just been through. So you reached in one of Hufflepuff’s secret “pots” for some…you guess it. You rolled the blunt and light it, you were pretty sure no one would come at the greenhouse at this hour, everyone probably was in their common rooms already so you didn’t even think of closing the door with some sort of charm.

Your relaxing moment was interrupted when you heard the door snap open and two male voices, you hid under one of the tables as fast as you could. To say your heart was exploding was a euphemism, this had never happened to you during your gardening sessions, not once!

You couldn’t make out the voices anymore because of how much anxiety was paralyzing your senses, all the worst scenarios came to your head: maybe they were Professor Snape and Dumbledore, it was definitely them, who else would come here right now?! And when they find you??? What would have happened? You surely were gonna get expelled! Or worse…sent to Azkaban, BUT YOU WERE TOO YOUNG TO GO TO AZKABAN!!!

Million thoughts were running around in your head when four feet stopped in front of the table under which you were hiding, and slowly the table cloth was gonna expose you to the two. When it had been pulled away you fainted under there, with your fingers still holding the blunt, the whole scene unraveled before the eyes of Lorenzo Berkshire and Mattheo Riddle.

They came here to steal some pot just like you did, when suddenly they not only smelled it as if someone was already smoking but also heard some shuffling noises, and that’s how they found you.

Now they were baffled, and also slightly holding their laughter.

“Mate…c’mon stop laughing, we must have scared her to death” “Suits her for being such a naughty student! Smoking pot in the greenhouse…without inviting us?!” Mattheo answered still drying some of his laughing tears. “So what should we do now?” Enzo looked at Mattheo as if he actually trusted him with the whole situation. “I know how to do cpr” Mattheo smirked “I bet she wouldn’t mind it, am I right babydoll?”, when he turned to look jokingly at you he saw you slowly batting your eyes.

You opened them and here you were, on the Greenhouse’s floor holding a joint, you looked up and you saw them, and as if you saw a ghost your face without missing a beat turned white.

“Woah woah breathe, don’t worry he was just joking” Enzo said getting on his knees so he could be at your eye level, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady you.

“Yeah don’t worry love, I definitely would have bought you dinner first”, and with that you chuckled shyly.

“Oh good Godrick You guys nearly gave me an heart attack, I thought you were Snape and Dumbledore” they both laughed, and after that they introduced themselves.

You decided to share the joint with them to have a laugh about what happened, even though this whole interaction was far from your “Slytherin avoidance” plan, but you were enjoying yourself way too much to shy away.

“So do you come here a lot to…you know?” Mattheo asked “Well I do help a lot around here, and I know where everyone hide their stuff, so like once or twice a week I come here and just chill out”.

“From the next time you have to invite us too, we’re now your two personal smoke buddies” you giggled at what Enzo said, “Anyways it’s really weird how we never shared any class, and I know for sure we have some classes with Hufflepuff, because half of the girls in the grade hate my guts” Mattheo said making you feel a bit uneasy, because you knew perfectly why you never had a single class together.

“Yeah right, so it has to be you that is hiding huh? Are you trying to ignore Slytherins for some reason?” “Yeah Enzo it’s years I’ve been trying to not see your face and you still found a way to jumpscare me!”.

The door snapped open again, and the three of you all tried to see who it was, but “You tossers where the hell are you hiding? We’ve been waiting for a fucking hour, you didn’t have to smoke it by yourselves!”. Possibly your heart started beating faster than before, this wasn’t just a scare this was your personal nightmare.

You tried to find a way out without being noticed, Mattheo and Enzo were standing up, you looked up at them and without even thinking you stood and hurriedly told them “It was such a pleasure meeting you guys, I- I gotta go, bye!”, and you sprinted out of there.

Theo looked at you throughout the scene and remained speechless, “Who the hell was that? And why have I never seen her before? And why was she here with you guys?” Mattheo walked towards Theo clapping a hand on his shoulder “Theo Theo Theo, the less you know the better, let’s get going Berkshire” “As you wish princess” just like that the three of them went back to their dorm.

“So are you guys gonna tell me who that was?” “Her name’s y/n and we don’t have any classes in common” Enzo finally answered the now impatient Theo, “it’s such a shame though, I wouldn’t mind seeing that pretty face sometimes” said Mattheo.

As you tried to sleep you just kept thinking of the incredible coincidence that had happened that night, how this was the first time you and Theo were so close, how his voice was so so so deep and just…sexy.

You heated up just with the memory of it, that fueled your fantasies in an astonishing way.

The next day you had just finished charms class with Ravenclaw and you were headed towards the great hall for lunch when you felt two pair of arms circle your neck at the same time. “Good morning y/n! Found you again, maybe it’s destiny trying to tell us something, what do you say?” “Ugh Mattheo please can you not harass her? And then you ask why we always hang with the same people” Mattheo sticked out his middle finger without even looking at Enzo. “So we were thinking if you wanted to come to our party tonight?” “I get it, I get it, you think you found your new pusher, is that all I am to you guys? I thought what happened yesterday was a real bonding experience…maybe I was wrong” you tried to pretend to be hurt while also trying to avoid answering to their invitation. “Oh come onnnn you know you’re more than that, you’re cool and we want you to meet the group” “please we desperately need someone new or I will blow my brains out! Plus you’ve never been to a Slytherin party before, because trust me darling, I would’ve remembered you” Mattheo winked at you. “Flattery isn’t going to make me say yes” “and what will?” Enzo asked right after “ummm I don’t know guys, I-“ you were going to say something when through the corner of your eyes you saw Theo. He started appearing behind them and walking in their way, which meant…your…way, “I- I’m really really hungry- I can’t even think straight! I’ll let you know after lunch, okay? Okay! Bye guys!”. And just like the day before you cowardly escaped, really embarrassing.

“What the?” “I know right why does she always seem to be running out of time at some point?” Mattheo and Enzo were interrupted by Theo “who were you talking to?” “Y/n, it’s crazy as soon as you approach she has to go away” Enzo said out loud what everyone was thinking.

“Are you sure you’re not the same person? Because I’ve never seen you two in the same room” Mattheo said trying to peel off some sort of mask off Theo’s face, and he just slapped his hand.

“Very funny, really. And what were you talking about?” Theo asked while trying to look for you in the river of people moving towards the great hall. He was starting to be intrigued by you, he had never seen you before, never even known about your existence and now you were merely a presence whenever there was his own, he didn’t know if it was starting to get on his nerves or to challenge him in to this game of catch.

“Nothing much we thought it would be cool if she came to the party tonight” “Do you have a thing for her?” Theo looked suspiciously at Mattheo who was suddenly so hung up on this girl. “Well she’s pretty yes but mostly she’s really nice and chill, you know…a nice addition to the group” he stopped as if to meditate to say or not the next thing “but I mean…I definitely wouldn’t mind” Enzo facepalmed and they found their way to the rest of the group who was already sat and dining.

You on the other end of the Hall, were trying to think of a plan, because you sure as hell weren’t gonna go to that party.

Although you found it flattering that they had known you for just one day, barely, and still thought to invite you, still the only real problem was dealing with Theo. Not in a million years you would be able to go through a conversation with him, let alone spend a whole evening in his presence.

You were so hung up on all these thoughts creating a vortex of paranoia and anxiety in your head that you had lost your appetite, so you decided to just leave and go spend some time in the library that was certainly empty since everyone was here.

And you just craved to be alone for just one second.

Arrived at the library you took a random book out of your bag and opened it at an even more random page, because reading was just your disguise.

Part of your secret was that whenever you felt uneasy or anxious you would just space out and dream about Theo, and that’s why it was so important for you to conceal it, the whole thing. Throughout all the years that you had been admiring Theo this daydream scenario grew more and more, and it always brought you peace and you wouldn’t have traded it with nothing else, not with Mattheo and Enzo’s friendship, not with hanging out with Theo, hell, not even with his friendship. You just didn’t want to disappoint yourself, because what if in reality he would just find you annoying or viceversa? What if he thought you were one of the many ridiculous fan girls? You wanted to stick with your dreams because they never they were too comfortable, and you couldn’t.nor.wouldn’t.trade.that.

As you were completely zoned out, two book shelves away Pansy Parkinson was desperately crying hiding from everyone because she figured, as well as you did, no one would be in the library at this hour.

So without knowing that someone actually was in there, she let herself get lost in sobs and snotty whines, very loudly so much so that at one point you got distracted by them and feeling sorry for whoever was so upset you, slightly annoyed, decided to check on them.

You knocked on the book shelve as if to ask for permission “Hey…is everything alright?” she immediately passed an elbow on her nose to dry it off, feeling embarrassed almost mortified. “Mind your fucking business, will you?” she abruptly answer, and at that you wanted to slap yourself and damn your stupid nosy empathy, so before even seeing who was behind the shelf you started to go back. “No- wait, sorry” she said regretting her impulsively rude ways. So you turned back and finally saw who was the mysterious crier and you thought to yourself -what a fucking coincidence- once again. “Sorry I didn’t mean to pry, or overhear this, I should have minded my business…but here” you handed her a tissue and she gave you a weak smile “thanks, and I’m the one who should be apologizing, I came off way too harsh while you were just being nice”. “May I?” you pointed on the spot on the floor beside her “Go ahead” “Do you want to talk about it?”, Pansy had never seen you before, which was basically impossible since she knew everyone, and for one second she thought that maybe you were an angel summoned to support her, came disguised as a regular hufflepuff girl.

She started to explain what had made her so upset, her secret crush Angelina Johnson had found out about this infatuation and humiliated Pansy by rejecting her in front of the Great Hall, so she just ran to hide in here, never having felt so weak in her life.

“She said that I was a filthy slytherin asshole and that she’d rather be with Filch than to ever consider being with me” you hugged her and you started to tear up a bit with her, also kind of relating to her because that was your biggest fear, and you would be just as devastated, if not more, if Theo ever said something like that to you. “She’s clearly blind, because you are probably the hottest girl in school and you are such a catch and if she doesn’t get that than she’s just daft”, she hugged you back twice as tight. “I heard that there’s a party tonight, you should go, dressed up with a great makeup on and let her know that you don’t care in the slightest of her objectively stupid opinion” “you are so right, we’re definitely going” we? “We? As in…you and her?” She looked at you with a stare that meant -are you for real- “No girl me and you”.

“Oh no no I have so much to study I can’t- really” “no please come on, you have to come with me, we will have so much fun, if you don’t come I will stay in my room and cry all night looooong” she prayed you with a really pouting face.

You were doomed.

There was no possible way back.

Pansy had been very persuasive, at least more than Enzo and Mattheo, but really you were just too gullible and manipulable.

It really seemed as if fate wanted you and Theo to meet, which basically means that it wanted for you to end up just like Pansy, maybe it would have made you bond even more, more plausibly it would have made you transfer schools and country.

Let me know if you’d like a pt. 2🤠

#slytherin boys #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott x you #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire #pansy parkinson

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