#friendship day messages in english | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanteguccir · 8 months ago

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── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

WARNING: Crying, comparison, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.

At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.

As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.

pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.

A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.

A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.

However, her joy was momentary.

As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.

Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.

"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"

"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."

The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.

How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.

Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.

She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.

Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.

With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.

She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.

She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.

The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.

"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"

"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.

Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.

"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.

She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.

"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.

Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.

Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.

"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.

Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.

"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"

Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.

"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.

His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.

"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"

Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.

“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.

She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.

The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.

The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.

"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.

She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.

The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.

Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.

Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.

At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.

They would really look beautiful together.

Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.

Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.

At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.

His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.

A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.

With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.

Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.

With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.

Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.

Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.

Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"

Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.

And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @m0r94n @blahbel668 @strnilolo

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

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verstappen-cult · 1 year ago

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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 01. THE BEGINNING

NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡

INSTAGRAM POST

📍MIAMI, FL

Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others

yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃

view all 4,655 comments

user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????

user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol

alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic

yourusername forget about pic credits.

user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich

user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous

williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!

alex_albon YOUR invitation???

user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time

user10 she's living the dream

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others

yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.

📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.

view all 3,865 comments

user11 caption is so real

user12 she's just like us fr

tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc

user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do

haileybieber pretty girl

user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀

user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her

alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography

yourusername please stick to driving

user19 i want their friendship :(

ALEX’S IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM STORIES

Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others

there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.

you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.

you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.

you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.

“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”

you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.

“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”

“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”

you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”

charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”

now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.

“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”

you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.

you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others

yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼

view all 7,665 comments

user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL

user21 mother is mothering

williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙

yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!

user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES

user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend

romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥

yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?

user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy

user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?

charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.

user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??

user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣

user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x

note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 imagine #social media au #charles leclerc #f1 grid x reader #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc fluff

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certaimromance · 4 months ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 Holding Us.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries. drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.

You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.

Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.

You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.

You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.

“Oh, you scared me.” You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.” He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.” You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. “I've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.”

“You should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.” Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. “I don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.” He finished, pointing with his head.

You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.

“I hope you're right.” You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. “Strauss will send me home after this, right?”

“You can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.”

“I'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.” You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. “Please don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.” You added, practically begging him.

“Don't get used to it.” He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. “But I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.”

“You're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.” You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.

“Agent.” He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. “Be careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.”

“Understood, sir.” You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.

Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.

“Who is it?” You asked in confusion.

“It's me, Spencer.”

You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.

“Do you want to come in? I was just leaving...” You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.

“I wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.” He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm fine.”

“May I check?” He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.

You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.

“One of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.” Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.

Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.

“And how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.” You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.

As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. “I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Sure?”

He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.

“You're a terrible liar.” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. “Then let me see.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.

Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.

“Are you in much pain?” You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.

“It hurts a lot.” He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. “But I'll be fine, really.”

“Okay.” You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.”

He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said seriously, as if it were an oath.

You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.

“Spencer.” You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. “I wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.” You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. “And if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.”

“No, you didn't do anything.” He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. “The date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.”

“What's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?”

“I'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.” He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.

“Come on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.” You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.

“I said I'm fine.” He cut you off.

“No, you're not, I realized something is wrong.” You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. “You can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.”

“You think you know me that well already?” His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. “One date doesn't get you that far.”

Ouch, that was a low blow.

“I didn't say that, Spencer.” You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. “But you need these, don't you?”

The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.

“Since when?”

“What?” He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.

“You know what I'm talking about.” You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. “I know an addict when I see one.”

Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We both know.” You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. “And that means you're not alone in this anymore.”

He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?

Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.

“You...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?”

“I'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.

“You won't...leave me?”

“I would never leave.” You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. “It's going to be okay.”

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.

“Everything will be fine.”

And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

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katiascraft · 1 month ago

Note

Hi!! I've been obsess with your works

Now, hear me out because your poll stroke an idea in me 👀👀

How about: Argentine!Reader x Oscar Piastri, and starts teaching him spanish so he can understand Franco's Interviews

Thank you!!

Ooooh yes yes yes!!! Here it is and I hope you like it 💌 thank you for your requests and support! I really appreciate it mwak mwak 😙 (sorry it’s a bit late but better late than never!)

——————————————————————————————

“Indirectas Directas” | OP81

Part 1 -> “Made in Argentina: The Series” (Oscar’s Version)

Parings: Oscar Piastri x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: you and Oscar have known each other since your best friend Franco Colapinto started competing in F3. You always had a crush on the Australian pilot. You have been friends for a while now but the friendship got closer since Franco got in F1 and you can see each other every race weekend. The butterflies starts for both of you. Do you really just wanna be friends? You teaching him “piropos” from your country may have subliminal messages.

Now playing: “IMÁN (Two of Us)” by Maria Becerra.

Word count: +1.2k.

Warnings: a few curse words. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: alrightyyyyy I hope this is good! And I really recommend Maria! I love herrrr my queen!! I did my best with the piropos jajaja Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Hola, todo bien?” Oscar said carefully and weirdly remembering what you taught him a few seconds ago. You nodded proud of his Spanish.

“Todo bien, ¿qué contas?” You said in your Argentine accent making him open his eyes wildly panicking. He loved your voice in Spanish; it was slightly higher pitched than in English. In English you have a deeper voice for some reason. Of course he asked about it and you explained it may be because of the pronunciation of the words. It's really so different from one language to the other.

“What the hell did you ask?” He said giggling a little, making you laugh too.

“I asked you what’s up” you explained and wrote down that phrase in the little notebook he brought with a pen. All mc claren branded.

The friendship between you two has become closer with each race. You were good friends before but not that close. It was something either of you couldn’t explain. Like your bodies were driven directly to one another unconsciously. You didn’t want to think too much about it. You didn’t want to overthink it.

His face was like ‘oh yeah right it makes sense’. He smiled at your handwriting so rounded and legible. Unlike his. His was a little messy.

“Yo estoy carrera hoy” he tried to answer it without asking how to. You laughed and he blushed. “This is embarrassing, it's really hard to connect the words” he said shyly and you found it so cute.

“It was close though don’t feel bad. Spanish it’s super complicated for non-Latin language speakers. We have like 20 tenses and shit. It’s a mess” you explained to cheer him up. He loved the fact you knew so much about languages because you also knew how to talk Portuguese and Italian pretty perfectly in his opinion. He has heard you even trying to speak French with Pierre last weekend. He was impressed.

“Yeah I get it now” he said grinning. “Must be nice to flirt in Spanish like I don’t know like you automatically sound sexier and more interesting” he said, making you laugh. “No really like I heard Carlos talking to an interviewer the other day and I think I am in love actually” he said, making you laugh even more. He loved making you laugh. Your laugh was like a drug to him. You looked way too cute doing so.

“Well I don’t know actually but in Argentina we have some top level flirting like really great phrases. Let me teach you some. Wait I’ll look for some on google so I can help myself remember” you said excited about it because you knew it was gonna be bizarre and funny at best.

“Phrases? Like roses are red and that kind of stuff?” He asked curiously and you nodded looking at your phone.

He couldn’t help but get distracted by the way you looked. Like every other race weekend you were wearing one of the million Argentina tees you have in your wardrobe. Your skin was glowing because of the sunscreen making your freckles stand out even more. You dyed your hair blond a few weeks ago and it looked incredible on you. He wouldn’t have expected that change but it looked so good on you. Anyway, he was convinced that anything you do to your hair will always look good always. Because you were beautiful. And he thought that was dangerous. You’re supposed to be friends right? And he knows Franco will kill him if he finds out he likes you. But he couldn’t help it. You were so interesting to him. You went everywhere with your mate and sang a lot of football songs he didn’t understand but you looked so happy singing them with Franco. Like he was captivated by your foreign beauty. So different from Australia or Europe or even the United States. You were loud and always laughing. Your bright smile always makes everyone so happy. All of the boys loved you. You were the life of every party. And you also knew so much about formula 1 it was impressive. Then you told him you were studying for an engineering degree and everything made sense. You loved the sport. And you were the proud friend. He loved that you were so passionate about everything. Even now that you have this teacher and student dynamic, you take it so seriously. He loved it. And he liked it even more because he knew that you were a teacher back in your country. And he could see how much you love to teach and you were actually really good at it.

“Alright I found the first one!” You said already laughing. “Okay ready?” He nodded, smiling, waiting for your magic voice to pronounce the weirdest shit but sound amazing.

“Mi amor, quien fuera cemento para sostener ese monumento” you said and started laughing because his face was a poem.

“What the hell?” He said laughing as well. “What does it mean? It really sounded terrible, " he said dramatically.

“It means: my love, who could be cement to hold that monument” he bursted out laughing.

“What? I don’t know if it’s geniuous or rude to be honest” he said sincerely making you laugh.

“Oh my god that was so cringe I love it” you said looking for another one.

“Don’t even try to make me pronounce that last one please” he warned you funny. You denied with your head.

“Okay I found another one listen: tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos. Try to translate it” you said because there were words you already taught him.

“Oh my god alright. Repeat it please?” You repeated it and he thought for a few seconds.

“Uh tu curvas y yo frenos?” He said confused. You giggled a little but applauded proudly.

“Yes! You're getting better Oscky” you said sweetly. “It was: you with so many corners and I have no brakes” you said, smiling funny.

“Oh like the curves of the body right?” You nodded at his questions. “Oh alright I get it! So is like double meaning”

“Exactly” you answered. “Alright last one: besar es el lenguaje del amor, te importaría comenzar una conversación conmigo?” You said blushing. Your subconscious chose this one without leaving you a warning.

“You said something with kiss right?” He asked and you nodded. He blushed too. You were like two teenagers blushing and giggling.

“I said: kissing it’s the language of love. Would you mind starting a conversation?” You explained.

“You wanna kiss me?” His words slipped through his lips.

“Maybe I do” your words slipped through your lips.

You were both so red. An awkward silence made its presence.

“Oscar, sorry to interrupt but Zac is calling us both. Hey y/n, you good darling?” Lando appeared out of nowhere so save yourselves from the worst silence situation you’ve ever been into. Lando hugged you kissing your cheek and you smiled at him. Oscar took his things ready to go.

“All good Land. Hope you have a good reunion. See you after the practices!” You said waving to him. And Oscar gave you a cheeky smile.

Holy shit you’re fucked.

#my work!🧉#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fic #op81

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fumekara · 8 months ago

Text

ALL THE THINGS I HAVE DONE (Final part)

SatoSugu x Gn reader

Plot: Your relationship with the strongest sorcerers in Japan was falling apart after they yelled at you and broke your heart.

n/a: English is not my first language, there will be a final part of this writing experiment, I am not very satisfied with how it came out. I know this is probably not the ending you were expecting.

Tw: A lot of angst, fluff, comfort, mention of sex, polyamorous relationship, mention of the death of one's pet, the reader has a cat, in this version Geto is a sorcerer.

If you are sensitive to mourning for your pets, do not interact with this fic.

WC: 2K

Click here for part 1 part2

You woke up blinded by the sunlight filtering through your bedroom window. Your eyes were swollen and sore from crying the night before. You felt a lack at the side of your bed and realized that Satoru and Suguru were not with you. Still groggy from waking up, you sat up and turned your attention to the bedside table to your left to check what time it was. You noticed, however, a glass of water, a muffin and a note with a message written on it that you were sure were not there the night before. You take the note in your hand and immediately recognise Suguru's handwriting.

We went out on an errand, we'll be back soon'.

Sighing, you brought the note to your face, as if trying to get something from it, like the warmth of the people who had cradled you and held you in their arms yesterday.

You didn't know where they might have gone, but you wanted to be with them, wanting to understand at all costs what would become of you from now on.

You had met the boys through Shoko, who was a close friend of yours in university days and had introduced you to her friends when you had all gone out together to celebrate your graduation. Although you were a bit shy at first and talked only to Shoko when you were sitting at a karaoke table, you managed to have a rather pleasant conversation with the two boys.

As time went by, you became more and more friendly with each other and went out more and more often with Gojo and Geto, even when Shoko wasn't with you, you enjoyed their company, you liked the fact that Gojo and Geto were so different, but still managed to find their stability in being together. They soon grew fond of you and began to be more open with you, their trust in you had strengthened and they showed genuine happiness in being with you. As a result, you could not help but have feelings for them, which gradually grew as your friendship continued.

You had become friends and remained friends even when Gojo and Geto got together. You knew it would happen sooner or later from the way they treated each other, plus you knew their history, since they had confided in you, during one of the evenings spent together watching movies, that they had been through a lot of bad times together. You were happy for them, really, but a part of you was unhappy that you could not be part of that unbreakable bond.

At the time you were living together, after graduation you had decided to look for a flat in Tokyo to start your career, and since they had a spare room at home, they offered to put you up.

You were sure you would only inconvenience the couple and didn't know what your life would be like knowing you were living under the same roof as them. You hadn't told anyone about your feelings for them, not even Shoko. They assured you that they would be happier to have you as a roommate and that you could never be a nuisance, since you were a close friend of theirs, and that they would never allow you to live in a dingy cheap flat until you finally settled down with your job.

And so you did, you went to live with them and were relieved that they both agreed to let you take Nuko with you. Moreover, living with them was great from day one. When you got up in the morning, you would find Suguru in the kitchen preparing breakfast and greeting you with a 'Good morning love', showing you his beautiful smile as always. Gojo, who to tease you would put some items on the shelves and top shelves and then laugh when you got nervous with him because you couldn't reach them, and every time he would muss your hair with his hand when he returned it to you doing his usual cheeky grin. Sometimes you would fall asleep on the sofa with your legs tangled during movie nights, sometimes both of you and sometimes you would spend evenings sitting on the sofa late into the night talking about silly things, deep thoughts about the most existential questions or the doubts and fears that tormented you.

Even when you managed to settle down in Tokyo and in your job you stayed living with them and they were fine with that.

Everything changed the day they asked you to become part of their relationship. They had both grown fond of you and, although at first you thought they had asked you in order to offer you a friendship with benefits, you realized that the more time passed, the more your triangular relationship turned into something absolutely wonderful. The months spent with them made you feel happy and fulfilled and you felt complete.

But now what was left, what would become of you from now on?.

________

At noon it began to rain and meanwhile you were preparing lunch while waiting for Satoru and Suguru to return. As you boiled the rice, you turned your head towards the bowl still full from the day before yesterday that lay in the corner of the kitchen floor and once belonged to Nuko. You sighed sadly and went back to work, deciding to chop some vegetables.

Suddenly you heard the sound of keys turning the lock of the front door: they were back.

"Hey, Y/N, where are you?" you heard Satoru call out to you. "I'm in the kitchen," you replied, continuing to cut.

Hearing their footsteps heading towards the kitchen, you decided to turn around and not look back. "I'm making saffron rice for lunch," you said not knowing what to do in that situation.

You turned your head slightly for a moment and then returned to what you were doing. You saw them on the threshold of the kitchen door, both slightly wet and Satoru was holding something in his hand, although you saw it in passing without realizing what it was.

You could feel their gazes on you and you were sure they wanted to talk about what had happened in the last two days and that perhaps it would lead to you breaking up.

"Y/N can you come here for a moment?" asked Satoru in an extremely quiet and gentle way. "I'm cutting Toru here," you replied, hoping that would be enough to avoid talking to them until you heard them approaching further. "Y/N, please look," Suguru added in the same tone.

You heaved a sigh surrendering to what now seemed inevitable and turned toward them.

What you saw left you speechless.

Satoru was holding what appeared to be a kitten only a few months old lying in the sorcerer's arms. Both men looked at you with an expression of regret.

You stood for a moment confused by the scene before you. You tried with all your might to say something, but nothing sensible came out of your mouth except a series of quivering babble. "Come here," Suguru told you softly, extending his hand for you to come closer.

You slowly approached them to get a better look, and Satoru gave you the kitten so you could hold it. You heard him meowing and that seemed to awaken you from your trance-like state, and staring at him better you saw that he had Nuko's gray fur. You were so astonished that you did not notice that both men's eyes had glazed over with tears at your reaction to their gift.

"I don't understand...," you said in a trembling voice, "why you...I...I don't...." Unable to finish the sentence, you looked up at them feeling the tears flow down your cheeks.

At this point they hugged you and exactly like you let the tears flow.

"Y/N we are so sorry, for everything, I mean it, forgive us," Gojo said rubbing his forehead with yours as he sobbed undaunted like you had never seen from him. "We didn't mean to say those things to you, you didn't deserve it and we were so stupid to let us talk to you like that, sorry, please forgive us, sorry." You looked into his eyes before he planted a series of kisses on your face wet with your tears.

Suguru took your face in his large hands so that you could see him face to face, and you saw him completely destroyed by the situation you had put yourselves in. "We love you Y/N," he said, "We really love you and we are sorry to have made you feel so long." . Before you could say anything, he softly kissed your lips, letting you both drift away from the intensity of the emotions you were feeling at that moment. He pulled away from you as if to get some air, before returning to kiss your face as Satoru had done.

"We don't want to lose you Y/N, you are the most precious thing we have."

Satoru turned your head and kissed you at the corners of your lips as he wiped away your tears in an attempt to comfort you and then went back to talking. "I know this won't be enough to make us forgive each other, but know that we have talked about it and we both agree that we are both in love with you and don't want to lose you and that we will do everything to get your forgiveness and make you feel loved as you deserve. Even if it takes a lifetime, we will make sure that neither of us will come back to make you feel as bad as we do these days. We want to love you as we love you right now."

"Don't feel obligated after this Y/N, but..." both of them left you some space "please forgive us for everything. Give us a chance to let you know how sorry we are."

You continued to cry as Suguru rubbed a hand on your back to make you calm down and Satoru took the kitten from your hands and then placed it on the ground so as not to overwhelm you.

"You... that's why you went out this morning," you sniffed, "but how?" and leaned down to pet the kitten who purred at your attention.

"Mrs. Momaru had mentioned to us some time ago that her cat had had kittens, and we went to her to ask if there were any left," Satoru told you as they both snuggled with you. You knew Mrs. Momaru; she was your neighbor, an elderly lady with a heart of gold.

"We're sorry about what happened to Nuko, we were hoping she could lift your spirits," Suguru told you uncertainly, "I know she won't be able to replace him, but...."

"I love her," you interrupted him and turned toward them. Now that you had calmed down, you were ready to say how you felt, "I love you guys and I want to be with you, but it will take time before I can forgive you completely," you said and they took your hands gently.

"We understand Y/N," Suguru whispered, kissing your hand.

"We will make sure you never feel this way again, we promise," Satoru said, as they wrapped you again in a loving, desperate embrace and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace.

It might have taken time to forgive them, but there was still hope between you.

Taglist: @qualitygiantshoepsychic @dark1paradise @mel1mak @tatahungry @aish777

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libraryraccoon · 9 months ago

Text

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

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jellyfishsthings · 9 months ago

Text

Nerves and Stolen Kisses

I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.

Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration

The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”

“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”

“Both of which are for your benefit.”

“Come on….”

“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.

Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.

It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.

“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”

“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”

“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”

“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”

We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.

“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.

“Looks like your man is on pole.”

We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.

“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.

“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”

“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”

“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”

The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.

Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.

“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”

“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”

And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.

An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.

“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.

Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.

When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.

“Ols, what's going on?”

“Carlos has an appendix”

“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”

“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”

“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”

“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”

Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.

And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.

“Hey love. Is everything alright?”

“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”

“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”

“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”

“Right beside him, love.”

“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.

Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.

"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”

Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?

You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.

"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."

It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.

"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”

"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"

"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."

“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.

“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”

“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.

True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.

When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.

“I told you.”

“I didn't beat Max.”

“Still.”

She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.

For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x female reader #oliver bearman #oliver bearman x reader #oliver bearman imagine #formula 1 #formula 2

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eufezco · 2 years ago

Text

SUMMARY - you're a little jealous of Tess.

a little smut at the end(?? english isn't my first language <33

"You know it's very obvious, right?" You heard Frank talk behind you. Even though Bill and Frank insisted that it was not necessary for you to do the dishes, you insisted on helping them. They prepared this delicious meal for you three and there was no way you were leaving without doing something for them in return. In front of you was the window from which you could see Tess and Joel still sitting at the table. The day was sunny and Joel's golden skin was glowing in the sunlight. You tried to concentrate on scrubbing the plates but you could feel his eyes on you and you couldn't help but look at him back. Tess was talking to him while he finished eating.

"Don't tell her that when it's not, Frank." Bill joined you two in the kitchen.

"No, but it is, Bill. It's in the way you look at him, you know? Your eyes do that thing and your lips curve up a bit. Not in like a big smile but in like an I'm-so-in-love-with-you one."

"It's not obvious, Frank's just dramatic. Don't worry."

"I'm just saying it's noticeable."

"What are you even talking about?" You dried your hands and turned around so you could see them both.

"You and Joel." Frank stated.

"He wants nothing to do with me, okay?"

"Oh, so he knows."

"I wish he didn't, but yes, he knows."

"Why?"

"Frank-"

"I tried to kiss him."

"You did what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"It's her fault! She likes him too and they're like super close but he only sees her as a friend. If he wasn't so worry about hurting her feelings, I could have him. He told me that." You turned around to the sink again. You grabbed a glass and started scrubbing violently. Your eyes moved from the sink to the window and back, the smirk Joel had on his lips while talking with Tess was getting on your nerves.

"So he feels the same way about you."

"At least he did a week ago. I found her in his bed a couple of days ago. She was fucking big spooning him, Frank, can you believe that?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"I'm sure it's not only about Tess." Bill intervened in the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Tess told me he lost people. He's obviously scared of forging a bond with you beyond friendship because he doesn't know what tomorrow may be like and if he could lose you as well."

"Shit... how do you know that? Did he tell you?"

"He knows because he was just like that." Frank answered for him.

You sighed. "I'm so jealous of you two."

You went back to the yard and sat with Tess and Joel at the table. They were discussing whether they should agree to do business with Bill and Frank. You couldn't care less about what your two friends were talking about. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, hearing their conversation but mostly enjoying the fresh air of the sunset hitting your skin. You were the one that connected over the radio with them. Luckily it was Frank the one that got your message, if it was Bill you wouldn't be sitting there, with your stomach full of the most exquisite food you'd ever tried and feeling the freshly cut grass under your feet.

"I am spending the night here."

The two of them stopped talking. Tess looked at Joel to see his reaction and Joel shook his head immediately. "The three of us are going back to the QZ."

"No. I'm staying here. FEDRA won't know that I'm gone, I don't have work tomorrow."

Joel threw a quick glance at Bill and Frank inside the house. He had been very hesitant the two times you'd met with them, still not trusting enough the two men to leave you alone with them. Even though he knows that you'd spent hours talking with Frank on the radio. You rolled your eyes when you realized it was because of them. "Oh, come on."

"No. No 'Oh, come on.' You're coming with us. Tell them we really appreciate this nice meal, everything was delicious but we should leave before it gets dark-" He said as he got up from the table. Tess was quick to lay one of her hands on top of Joel's. She called his name and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down on his chair again.

"Stay here with her. I will go back to the QZ." Tess knew that it was impossible to change your mind. She was already trying to find other options that would please Joel. That was much easier.

"I have work to do in the morning."

"I'll cover you. You'll be fine."

Joel huffed, looking at you and running a hand through his face. You smiled at him, victorious, but he was upset at your attitude. You truly did not see how dangerous it was, not only for FEDRA to find you out of the QZ, but also for you to stay at some random dudes' house?

"Let us know over the radio when you arrive."

"This is so nice. We could never go back to the QZ." You said letting yourself fall onto the bed and sighing. Joel closed the door behind him and left his gun on the nightstand, a place where it would be within reach in case he needed to use it. He sat on the bed, starting to question why he didn't drag you back to the QZ. "I'm serious Joel, we could stay here. There are enough houses, you can choose the one you like the most and we could-"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" You held your body up with your elbows and your eyebrows came together after hearing Joel talking to you like that. He turned his body slightly towards you so he could make eye contact. "Sometimes I don't know if you mean what you say or if you just spit out every fucking thought that goes through your head."

"What is this all about? Why are you so determined to go back to the QZ? Is it because of her?"

Joel huffed and got up from the bed. "You are- This is unbelievebable."

"Or is it because you have so much to lose there? It would be a pity if you did not come back, Joel. Everyone would miss you so much."

Joel ran his hand through his face out of desperation. He paced around the room while you talked. You rolled your eyes, letting your body fall on the mattress again. "So it is because of her."

"She's my family! Of course it's because of her!" He yelled at you, approaching you with a threatening attitude. You got up from the bed and as angry as he was, you asked him.

"And what am I? Am I not your family?" You clenched your jaw.

Joel chuckled and massaged his temples. "I didn't say that." Anger quickly crept back into his body, one of his fingers pointed at you, and his other hand rested on his waist. "You do not get to twist my words in that way!"

"Seriously, Joel? That's the only problem you see here? Because the real issue is that you don't have enough balls to tell her the truth and that's the only reason why things are working this bad for us!"

"Oh please, if you could act like a fucking adult for once in your life and have a little empathy..."

"I can't do that! I just can't do that because if I don't think of myself who will? Will you do it? Because we have already seen that you won't!"

He couldn't believe what you were saying. Joel closed his eyes while you talked and clenched his jaw to the point it hurt. "I think about you! You are my priority! Every hour of the day, you are my priority! From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep at night-"

"You're always so worried about how she may feel about us, but what about me? How do you think this situation makes me feel?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes you feel the same way it makes me feel."

You huffed a laugh and then you rolled your eyes at him. You walked past him to leave the room. "No. You are not going anywhere. I'm not done talking." Joel grabbed your arm and kept you from opening the door. His grip on your arm brought you face-to-face with him. He wanted to keep arguing with you, he still had a lot of things to say, but at that moment both of your breaths were deep as a result of the agitated discussion and they mixed to the point of becoming one. Joel cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. Your back hit the door, causing Bill and Frank who were on the other side listening to jump backward.

"Oh, fuck..." You sighed and your hands caressed his broad shoulders and slid down to his chest. He was beautiful, your hands couldn't get enough of him. After caressing the freckles that decorated his skin and the scars on his chest, your hands moved to his belly and quickly slipped into his pants. Joel gasped against your lips, and a playful smirk appeared in yours right before he kissed you again to quiet his own sounds.

"We should-" Frank said after being able to hear the wet sounds of the kiss and your sweet hums through the door.

"Yes." Bill agreed with him inmediatly.

The next morning you woke up between Joel's arms, your legs tangled with his and Joel's gentle breathing enticing you to stay in bed instead of going to have breakfast. You shifted in place, careful enough to not wake him up. You slid his big t-shirt over your head and stole from him the pajama pants that Bill and Frank had lent him.

Frank's eyes sparkled as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen. "You have to tell us everything right now." He moved back a chair so you could sit next to him while Bill placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of you and you smiled at him in gratitude. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide how happy you were and Frank huffed a laugh "You bitch. It was good."

You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. The smile never leaving your lips. "It was amazing. He is so rough yet so soft, just like I told you I thought he would be. His hands are- ugh, so magical, and his lips are so good that I can still feel them. And his d-"

"We don't need all those details, thank you." Bill rushed to say, sitting at the table with you. Interested in what you were saying but not that interested.

"Oh yes, we need them." Frank huffed another laugh, seeing your devilish expression wanting to go on with what you had started.

"No, you don't." Joel's said entering the kitchen with his deep morning voice.

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maidragoste · 2 months ago

Note

hey hun! im sorry for your loss and i saw u post abt needing distracting. so could u write a jace x reader? it could be any plot you want whatsoever and could it be a modern au? as well fluffy! is that okay?

Hi, how are you?

Thank you for your message 💖 I'm sorry it took me so long to upload your request (in the end it cost me more than I thought to recover and then university and trying to find a job overwhelmed me) but I hope you like the result 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

It hadn't really been Jacaerys' intention to wait for you to come back from your date. He should be doing some college work but instead, he's watching TV without paying attention to it thinking about how the hours are passing and you still haven't come home. Your date should be fun if you don't text Jace anymore. Jace shouldn't be worried about you because he knew Rhaena would never have set you up with an idiot but he still couldn't help being worried.

Jacaerys wanted you to come home and see if you were okay. It would hurt him to hear the details of your date and see you all excited about another boy but he would bear it.

If only Jace wasn’t afraid of ruining things between you two then he would have taken you out himself after hearing you complain about how your love life is dead instead of letting Rhaena set you up with one of her friends. But Jacaerys is sure that you don’t see him as more than a friend and he doesn’t want to risk losing you so he doesn’t make a move. He's content with being able to be in your life, with the chaotic mornings of the two of you getting ready before going to class, with your text messages telling him everything that happens to you during the day, with the nights cooking together and with the breaks where you watch series snuggled together on the couch.

Jacaerys looks away from the TV as he hears the keys clicking into the lock. You walk in and Jace feels a pit in his stomach because you don’t look excited, you look defeated? Your eyes meet his and you give him a tired smile but you quickly break eye contact to take off your coat and sneakers and then run to the couch with him.

“So you wanna talk about it?” Jacaerys doesn’t even finish asking how much you’re already talking.

“It was fine. He’s nice and we talked for hours. Everything was going well until the end because he tried to kiss me.” If you hadn’t been busy fidgeting nervously you would have noticed how your roommate seemed to tense up all of a sudden. “I declined and he wasn’t bothered but it was awkward.” You sighed.

“Why did you reject him? Are you the kind of person who has a rule of not kissing on the first date?”

“Because I don’t like him” you declared, suddenly looking up and for a moment, at the intensity of your gaze, Jace forgot to breathe. “I could be his friend, but I’m not interested in him in any other way.”

“Oh” was the only thing that came out of the surprised man’s mouth.

“Oh,” you repeated, “Why did you wait for me, Jace?”

“Who said I was waiting for you? I was watching TV” he denied instantly.

“Jace”

Seeing your beautiful eyes looking at him pleadingly for a moment, Jace was afraid to give in and confess everything to you, as for more than a year he can’t stop thinking about you and wants to be more than your friend. But again, he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable and losing your friendship, so he asks instead.

“What does that have to do with you not liking your date?”

“While I was with him I realized that I actually wanted to be home with you” you confessed and instantly regretted it when you saw that he remained silent. “Forget it. I'm sorry for making it weird” You got up ready to go to your room so you could have a crisis alone about ruining your friendship with Jace when he took you by the hand and pulled you causing you to end up on top of him.

“Oh no, I don’t plan on forgetting it, not when I’ve been pining for you for over a year,” he stated making you smile.

“You’re a coward,” you mocked without malice. “Over a year and you never made a move. You’re lucky I decided to act.”

“You’re right,” he said smiling unbothered. “Now that we’ve established that I’m a fool and you’re the best, can I kiss you?” he asked and you laughed feeling delighted with him.

“Try not to sound so desperate to kiss me.”

“Can you blame me?” He arched an eyebrow, any embarrassment or fear he felt disappearing the moment he knew his feelings were reciprocated. “I thought a lot about kissing you and I finally have the chance.”

At his confession, you felt heat on your face and your smile grew. “You're such a fool.” You took his face in your hands and felt your heart warm at the softness with which Jace looked at you.

The moment your lips touched his Jacaerys knew he would become addicted to your kisses. He would look for any excuse to kiss you as many times as he wanted. You would probably become the clingy couple that his friends would make fun of. But he didn't care and he didn't think you would either because you were kissing him with the same intensity.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

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hotd masterlist

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eu-nicola · 23 days ago

Text

via part 1

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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sootsz · 1 year ago

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in light of recent ominous events with the eggs (namely, theories that they’re hatching, and their even more recent disappearance this morning), i think it’s worth looking at what an insane social experiment of a situation that all the members and admins find themselves in, with us as the overly invested lab coat scientists, so hi welcome to Quackity (Accidentally) Makes Social Experiments 100000% Funnier

when talking about the egg event the focus tends to be on the cc’s and how attached they are, because they’re the ones we can fully see and gauge their emotional responses. it’s already been well established how genuinely invested they all are. but the eggs’ admins have just as much skin in the game as their in-game parents do

The tragedy of the eggs being taken away isn’t necessarily the eggs (characters) dying/leaving. it’s more than that. it’s that, in a way, the admin dies with the character. And the further that the egg event has continued past the point it was meant to end, and past the point of no return, the more true this has become.

richas plays more than the “actual” members. phil admits to seeing chayanne and tallulah as part of the server and genuinely likes who they are as people. dapper, ramon, leo, pomme—they’re all so ingrained in the island that it is impossible to imagine it without them, and to do so would be like removing half of the cc’s themselves. only Worse!

Because it’s so final when the eggs die. so definite. because even if a steamer left, you’ll see them continue in their own capacity as a streamer, but the eggs are just gone. they’re mostly anonymous (richas is again a good example). they’d vanish like they were never there, with no real way to reconnect with them

and it’s all even More high-stakes from the admin’s perspective. from watching early gegg streams, you can see how, even with charlie’s mic off, it doesn’t really feel any different from watching a normal stream?? he’s still there, interacting with his friends, joking around, playing minecraft with them, and that’s what the egg’s admins do almost Every. Single. Day. what!! an indirect comparison would be an internet friend you’ve only messaged and never vc’d with. a more direct comparison (for those who were in the trenches) would be that friend you made when you were 12 and roleplaying on a minecraft creative plots server.

juanaflippa’s admin and tilin’s admin have, on twitter, mentioned how much they miss hanging out with their ‘parents’. bobby’s admin having to say goodbye to jaiden and roier and actually crying. tallulah and chayanne giving music recommendations to phil. leo interacting with foolish in a pretty Normal Friends way (yknow, if you disregard the bedtime stories) with leo teaching him spanish and him teaching her english. they’re ALL more than just characters. they’re people!! what the hell!!!

this is not to say that the admins for the eggs are traumatized, not even a little, or that the egg experiment is in any way morally wrong (on the contrary, I love it! fun roleplay dynamics! acting! emotions repercussions that make me want to study their brains!) though i do hope for the admins sake and all of ours that they can stay as long as possible or else their therapy bills will be crazy

because when it comes down to it, friendship is friendship, whether you met roleplaying their child on a minecraft server or not

enjoy the island :)

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zaldritzosrose · 27 days ago

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Run, Rabbit, Run (Michael x Reader x Martin)

Summary: Best friends since childhood, Michael and Martin did everything together. But no one expected that to include their romantic relationships. Michael had you first, but he couldn't deny the chemistry between you and Martin. So what happens when two friends, their girlfriend and a spooky fantasy all come together?

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, modern au (around 2000s ish), mentions of alcohol, polyamory (sharing is caring), profanity, innuendo, mask kink (reader's fantasy), threesome (mutual participation from all parties), minor primal play (fantasy about being chased), oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, fingering.

Words: 5685

No beta...let chaos ensue!

You had met Michael first. He attended university with you and if someone had said you two would end up dating, you both would have laughed.

When you first met him, he thought you were, for want of a better word, stupid. Your outside gave the impression of an airhead, a princess who spent her daddy’s money. Michael had questioned how you got into Oxford in the first place.

He studied Mathematics, unsurprisingly when you found out. You studied English Literature. He wasn’t shy of telling you how pointless he found such a course, but you ignored him.

Somehow, the annoyed sighs in the library had turned into longing looks – more so from Michael than you to begin with. He couldn’t remember when he first started to think you were pretty. But all of a sudden, he found himself staring at you instead of his textbook.

Then, the one day you came to talk to him. Out of the blue. You had been looking for a book that just so happened to be on the shelf behind him. You were being polite when you said ‘Hello’ to him.

But Michael could have melted right there and then. The cute little jumper and skirt you had on. Reaching up to grab your book. The hem of your skirt rising just that little bit. He shouldn’t have looked; he knew he shouldn’t. But you looked like a dream.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Fast forward a few months and you were studying at the same table as him. Mutually studying your subjects in a comfortable silence. Study sessions turned to walks in the courtyard just chatting. Walks turned trips to the pub.

Soon, there wasn’t much time you weren’t at Michael’s side. Meeting after classes, eating lunch together. But he never worked up the courage to admit his feelings.

Until his best friend got involved.

Martin was his opposite in almost every way. They had been friends for as long as they could remember, but it was a friendship no one expected to last. Michael was logical, introverted most of the time, direct with how he spoke. Martin was a little more ‘act without thinking’, he worked on instinct.

So, when he found out about Michael’s crush on you? He was almost pushing him to ask you out. Telling Michael how it was obvious you liked him back. But when Michael chickened out…

Martin, being the good friend, took it into his own hands. Grabbing Michael’s phone and sending the message himself.

Michael could have dropped dead from embarrassment he was sure. But you replied…saying yes.

Next thing he knew, you were his girlfriend.

And a couple of months down the line, you met Martin. Michael knew the look. Martin thought with his cock. And he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. He could tell you noticed, blushing when Martin came close or made some thinly veiled innuendo.

It was only when you’d gone back to campus that Martin broached the idea of a more…unconventional relationship.

Michael had been surprised to say the least. Of course, he knew Martin would want you. You were a goddess, and he was a sucker for a pretty face. But was he really asking to date you as well as Michael?

But, with a push, Michael asked you. He hadn’t expected your answer.

Yes.

That was all you had answered. Michael realised, to his surprise, he was okay with it. Martin, despite how annoying a friend he could be, was a good guy. And he could probably give you things Michael couldn’t.

That was a year ago. Now, you were firmly settled into your life as a girl with two boyfriends. Your relationship with both was wildly different and yet comfortable.

Martin was a lot more forthcoming with the physical side of your relationship. It was no surprise that you had taken the bigger physical steps with him first. Michael was okay with that; he’d always assure you. He wasn’t as confident there as Martin was.

But Michael gave you things Martin didn’t. He liked the softer, sweeter side of your romance. Taking you on dates, cuddling and watching a movie.

There was a balance that just seemed to work.

Not that Martin wouldn’t take you out or Michael wouldn’t fuck you.

They were different, and that was perfect for you.

You were in class until the afternoon when Martin came over. It wasn’t often that he visited the university just to see Michael anymore, but it happened.

“When is she due home?” Martin asked, lounging on your bed whilst Michael studied.

You had been lucky with your room on campus. The halls you stayed in were quiet, not all the rooms filled. It was more of a spill over accommodation for anyone left over when the other halls filled.

Luckily, you were only a short walk from Michael’s halls. But you had long since given both boys a key to your room.

“Couple of hours, she said she’d text me when she left her last class.” Michael answered, not even glancing up from his notes.

Martin sighed. Two hours was a long time when he was the only one without something to do, considering Michael had his own class to study for.

To keep himself busy, Martin began wandering around your room. There were few things you hid from your boys, but the top drawer of your bedside table had always remained locked the entire time they had both known you.

Both boys had asked you what you kept in there, but you had never answered.

Being unoccupied brought the thought back to Martin’s mind.

“Did she ever tell you what was in here?” he asked, knuckle tapping the wood of the bedside table.

Michael shrugged, “Nope, I asked a couple of times and got nothing. So, I stopped asking.”

Martin frowned. Now the thought was in his head, he had to know.

Michael was deep in his textbook when he heard a rattle and then a scrape of wood against wood.

“What are you doing!” he snapped, spinning in his chair to see Martin pulling said locked drawer open.

“She’ll fucking kill you, you moron!”

Martin just laughed. He knew you’d never stay angry at him. He had enough tricks to make you forget whatever he’d done.

“Oh, come on, like you don’t wanna know what’s in here?”

Michael didn’t want to admit it, but Martin had a point. Who locked a bedside drawer? He wandered over to inspect the contents.

“Fine, but if she gets mad I’m blaming you.”

Martin pulled the drawer out fully, sitting it on your bed for a full inspection. Michael’s studying was long abandoned. Curiosity ate at him just like anyone else.

The contents looked relatively…boring. A few polaroid pictures of friends and family, a book and a little box which Martin eagerly found out contained your vibrator.

“Ooohh, our little bunny has a friend…” he chuckled but slid the toy back into the box.

Michael simply shook his head. His eyes remained trained on the book. Why would you lock a book away?

Without thinking, he pulled it out and began to flick through the pages. It took him longer than he’d care to admit figuring out the truth of what it was.

Your journal.

“Holy shit…” Michael muttered, just loud enough to draw Martin’s attention.

The brunette hovered over Michael’s shoulder as he read. Page after page of your inner most thoughts. About your course, your friends, your favourite movies and shows, even them – they lingered on those pages longer than others.

But some lines in particular caught Martin’s eye.

“…there’s just something about it that gets me so..hot. The idea of someone wanting you so bad, even if it’s in some dark and twisted way, that they’ll never stop chasing you.”

That wouldn’t have been unusual on it’s own. He’d seen the way you stared at the screen when ‘darker’ romances played out. No, it was the following line that got him.

“What is it about a mask though? Me and the girls were talking about it at lunch. Ghostface shouldn’t be as sexy as he is…he kills people. Michael Myers was brought up after that. That walk. It’s something else…”

Martin wasn’t usually surprised like that. There were few things he’d not tried in bed in his lifetime. But this…

This was something.

“You read it too?” Michael asked, seeing how Martin remained fixated on that page.

He only nodded in response, but Michael was sure he could hear the cogs turning in his head.

“Our girl has a mask kink, who knew.” Martin said finally, and it was like putting it into words made his mind click.

He grabbed the book from Michael’s hand, snapping it shut and placing everything back in the drawer. But Michael saw the look in his eye.

“I know that look.”

Martin smirked back, a plan almost fully formed in his mind.

“We have the Halloween party this weekend, right?”

Michael nodded, all of you had been invited to the annual Oxford Halloween party. Well, you had been and then refused to go without your boyfriends. And a Halloween party was the perfect place to act out your fantasies.

“What do you say to indulging our sweetheart?”

The boys left you a little note, about how they had gone into town to get their costumes for the party. Your costume had been bought weeks ago, excitement taking over. But the boys had been dragging their feet, despite your protests.

Lucky for them, you weren’t suspicious at all. Everything in your room had been left just as they had found it.

The night of the party rolled around. The whole university was thrumming in anticipation. Oxford parties went all out. Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s. Even Valentine’s Day sometimes. They were nothing short of an extravaganza.

You had your outfit all sorted, and it was so perfectly you. The tight, black dress laced down your back and showing off every dip and curve of your body. The ears topped it off though.

Your boys called you ‘bunny’, because apparently you were just as soft and cute as one. You liked it. It was different from usual pet names; it made you feel special. Martin especially loved whispering into your ear as you moaned beneath him.

You twirled in front of the mirror. The boys, surprisingly, had told you they’d meet you there. It was unlike them, but it also meant you had a full, distraction free two hours to get yourself ready.

The boys’ trip into town had been fruitful, easily finding what they wanted.

“Why do you get to be Ghostface?” Michael asked, looking at the navy boiler suit and Michael Myers mask on his bed.

Martin just rolled his eyes.

“You have the walk better than I do.”

It was mostly true. Martin couldn’t really explain it, he just knew that this way worked best. He had kitted himself out with a more ‘practical’ version of a Ghostface costume. Gone was the long, tattered black robe. In was a black long-sleeved tee, black jeans and a long black coat.

Practicality…for what they had planned anyway…was a little more important than accuracy.

The boys arrived before you. Michael constantly checking his phone to see if you had text to say you’d arrived. Martin looked relaxed as ever, he’d planned everything out and all that needed to happen now was for you to appear.

“She’s here!” Michael suddenly called out, all but jumping from his seat in excitement.

It was a nervous excitement that thrummed in his veins. Knowing they were going to act out one of your fantasies had him buzzing with excitement. Knowing they’d found out about said fantasy without your knowledge had him wallowing in a mix of guilt and nerves.

Your costume had been kept a surprise as much as theirs. And both of them audibly groaned when they saw you.

“What a sexy little rabbit..” Martin mumbled and Michael was already squirming a little, hand slipping down to adjust the growing tent in his boiler suit.

You almost bounced over, the bunny ears on your head flopping as you moved through the crowd. Always excited to see your boys.

“Happy Halloween!” you giggled, spinning around as you got to them and shaking the little puffball tail attached to your dress.

Michael simply choked on air. Even after a year, he was barely functional whenever you were the least bit flirty.

Martin handed you a drink, flicking the tip of one of your ears.

“You make a very pretty bunny,” he smiled, earning him a kiss before you leaned down and offered the same to Michael.

You hadn’t noticed their costumes yet, considering they were both maskless to drink and eat.

“So, what have you two come as?”

The smirk on Martin’s face and the nervous smile on Michael’s should have clued you in that something was up. But they had banked on your adorable obliviousness to keep their game going until the right time.

“It’s all a surprise, love,” Michael said, just loud enough over the low din of the party.

All in good time, they both thought.

They’d somehow managed to keep their costumes mostly a secret. You weren’t a heavy drinker, so after two drinks you were happy to just mingle and dance.

The bass thrummed under your feet. Michael behind you and Martin in front. The three of you always managed to find a rhythm no matter what you did. Dancing, sex, even just hanging out in one of your rooms.

Always perfectly in sync.

The party soon got a little too crowded and when the music switched to songs you weren’t worried about missing, you dragged your boys outside.

Perfect timing. Michael’s halls were closer than yours. The boys had planned it all out and luckily for them you continued to fall right into their plan.

They could see you were waning, the cool air more enticing than returning to the party.

“Do you want to go home, bunny?” Michael asked, your head on his shoulder as Martin smoked a few steps away.

You hummed in response, which he took as a yes.

A quick nod from Michael told Martin it was go time.

“Martin’ll head off and get the door open, I’ll walk you home yeah?”

You willingly moved as Michael stood, an arm around your waist as Martin headed off in front. When he was a good distance ahead, he slipped on the Ghostface mask.

“Showtime.”

The walk felt longer than you remembered. Or maybe you were just tired. Maybe you just couldn’t remember the path from the social hall to Michael’s room. It wasn’t a path you walked often, you had to admit.

But something felt…odd.

Michael was glancing around just a little too much for your liking. And why hadn’t they shown you their costumes?

You could see Michael’s halls approaching and his arm only tightened around your waist. He urged you forward as you pushed the door open.

And then your phone rang.

You hadn’t noticed Michael slip away as you pulled your phone from your bag. Who the hell would be calling you at this hour?

You answered the phone with a soft hello but got a silent pause in return.

“Hello?” you said a little more insistently this time.

The chuckle should have sounded familiar, but you were beyond confused.

“Do you like scary movies?”

You could have dropped the phone. You’d seen Scream. You knew the line.

“What the hell!”

You immediately hung up.

Only then, did you notice Michael was gone.

“Boys? Michael? Martin?”

No answer.

What the hell was going on?

Michael could hear you shouting. He felt a little guilty, but the halls were safe. He knew you were safe. Martin was going to be the first to show himself.

The hallway wasn’t dark, the lights warm as you wandered down to find Michael’s room. Maybe they thought you were right behind them? Not realising you’d stopped when your phone rang?

No, that didn’t make sense. Michael had been holding on to you.

Then your phone rang again.

“You didn’t answer my question, little bunny?”

Why…why was that voice so familiar? Your nerves were too on edge to think logically.

Michael watched from an alcove. Just a little longer…

“This isn’t funny…” you whined, but you didn’t hang up this time.

Martin was just outside the reception, mask on and leaning against the glass paned door. If you would just turn around, you’d see him.

“You look so cute, little bunny. Shake that tail again…”

You let out another whine and considered hanging up the phone. But you wanted to know who it was.

“Turn around, bunny…”

You had no hesitation in doing as you were told. Both boys were smirking under their masks at just how obedient you were.

“Good girl. Can you see me? I can see you.”

You turned just a little more. And then you saw it. Or him? The tall, dark figure pressed against the glass. Ghostface mask tilting in a way that made you shiver in both nerves and desire.

“Hello bunny…” the voice down the voice said, while the figure at the window waved.

This wasn’t a movie. Maybe it was someone trying to play a prank? Your thoughts didn’t even stray to your journal, the fantasies you had put to paper. But the desire that throbbed between your thighs should have reminded you.

“Who, who are you?”

The voice only laughed down the phone. A laugh so familiar yet you still couldn’t place it.

“It’s not me you need to worry about, bunny.”

Now that put you on edge.

The heavy steps coming up behind you had you torn between desire and fear. Before you knew it, you had broken out into a run.

Michael smiled under his mask. This was a lot more fun than he anticipated. He’d seen the flush in your cheeks, the way you rubbed your thighs together as you saw Martin in the window.

You had run close enough to the window for Michael to pass Martin.

“Keep her running for a little bit, get her upstairs to your room and I’ll meet you there.”

Michael simply nodded. He couldn’t lie, he was already semi-hard in his costume at just the idea of chasing you down. And a quick glance at Martin told him he was feeling much the same way.

The boys never crossed the line of intimacy in their relationship with you, but Michael had to admit…he could see why you liked the Ghostface look so much.

He could hear your footsteps rounding the far corner of the corridor and made his way back over.

All he had to do, was get you upstairs.

Martin made quick work of the steps, the key to Michael’s room in his pocket. He could just about hear your shoes against the wood floor downstairs.

Another phone call might do the trick.

You were panting when your phone rang again. You could hear the steps behind you still but hadn’t dared look. But that walk…

It was only when you glanced the reflection in the window did you realise what was going on.

Ghostface. Myers.

“Oh my god…” you mumbled, almost missing the call.

You were sure you knew it was your boys. But you’d be damned if you didn’t let your fantasy play out.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit. Run, run, run…”

Ghostface had to be Martin…you just knew it. Which meant Michael was Myers. That slow, powerful walk was ideal for him.

Your panties were damp at the thought. You didn’t even consider how they knew you’d like it.

You saw the stairs and made a break for it. If Michael was going to really play the part, he’d have to move slow. You had a chance to get a small reprieve.

Quick steps took you up the stairs. You didn’t even consider where Martin could have gone. But the thumping footsteps behind you told you Michael wasn’t far away.

Martin had the door unlocked, wide open enough for the light inside to be seen. He found a hiding spot and waited. Maybe you’d figured it out? Even if you did, it turned you on, why would you stop playing?

But the footsteps coming down the hall, one set hurried and one set heavy, told him it was about to get even more fun.

Michael had led you down so easily, without you even knowing. You saw the light on and dived inside the room. You recognised the posters as belonging to Michael.

“Fuck..” you muttered, and you realised then that this had been the game all along.

Martin remained quiet; he needed Michael in the room before they could continue.

The heavy steps got closer, your back pressed to the inner wall of Michael’s wardrobe in a poor attempt to hide.

It was only when you heard the door shut, that you knew it was over.

Then you heard Martin, confirming it was his voice on the phone.

“Come out, little bunny…”

They could hear your whimper, and Michael remained silent and completely in character. Their footsteps got closer, and you huffed when the door to the wardrobe tugged open.

“Look who we have here?” Martin sneered and before you knew it, Michael had you in his arms and out of the wardrobe.

Michael held you tight, reminding you how strong he could be despite his outward demeanour.

“Get her on the bed, if she’s a good girl, she’ll get a treat.”

You were roughly thrown down onto Michael’s bed, face first and your legs just hanging off the edge.

Michael and Martin simply stood, looking at you. They had fully planned how to get you up here, but the choice was…where to start?

You could tell it was Martin’s hands on your ass. Michael’s were making quick work of tugging the boots you wore down your legs. The firm touches had your skin on fire.

Martin had your dress pushed high, the soft lace of your panties making him groan beneath his mask.

You could only whimper softly as they maneuvered you. Michael was at the foot of the bed, and only know did you look up at him. The navy-blue boiler suit fit him all too well. The mask made his eyes look so dark you could barely see the icy blue you adored. And all he did was stare.

You had to appreciate just how in character they were.

Your hand was just about reach out and touch him when Martin’s hand landed a loud slap to your ass.

“Ah, behave yourself, bunny.”

You squealed at the contact. Your cheek burning from the impact. But a little part of you wanted him to do it again.

Michael’s hand reached out, gripping your wrists and forcing you to rest on your elbows. It was contact, but not the contact you wanted. His head tilted ever so slightly. The commitment truly impressive.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and you guessed Martin had climbed on to it. If there was one thing he enjoyed doing, it was showing off. And this time would be no different.

His hand trailed up and down your back. Pinging the straps at the back of your dress as he went. You couldn’t see it, but Martin met Michael’s gaze. A silent signal telling him what the plan was.

There was a chair at the end of Michael’s bed. Michael tugged it closer, giving him enough space to grip your wrists but seat himself in front of you. The combination of both of their touches was almost too much. You could barely concentrate on who was touching you where.

You could hear the jangle of Martin’s belt but at the same time you saw Michael unbuttoning his boiler suit. Martin slipped his fingers between the lace of your panties and your ass cheeks. Kneading and squeezing while your eyes remained trained on Michael.

It wasn’t the first time they’d had you between them. Usually special occasions, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day for example. It seemed Halloween was soon to be added to that list.

Martin’s fingers slipped lower and between your folds. Teasing you with almost feather light strokes.

“Keep your eyes on him, bunny.” Martin whispered; the coolness of his mask pressed against your shoulder.

You did your best. Michael had his suit below his waist, tugging off the cotton shirt he wore below. You never ceased to be impressed with how both of them looked. Deceptive physiques beneath their clothes.

His hand freed his cock from its confines. Hard from the mere sight of you on all fours and waiting.

Martin’s fingers found your bud, circling it slowly as Michael took his length into his hand. Pumping himself in almost perfect synchronisation to Martin’s fingers. Michael’s other hand remained firm on your wrist. Your hands mere inches from his cock as he worked himself faster and faster.

“Don’t make him do all the work.” Martin ordered you, pushing his fingers between your folds, curling them just the way you liked.

Michael shifted his hips, bringing the chair close enough to tug your hand to wrap around his cock. He knew he should be silent, but he wasn’t about to deny you the sounds you enjoyed the most.

The soft grunts and sighs he would let out just for you. Sounds that began to fall from his lips the second your hand touched his heated skin. Your hands were softer than his, but it was a feeling that always had his eyes rolling back. Your rhythm was a steady as possible, his hand guiding your wrist as your eyes squeezed closed from Martin’s touches.

“Oh, oh…” you whimpered, Martin’s fingers sped up.

Pushing deeper and deeper into your core, curling deliciously over your sweet spot. Your back arched, pushing yourself harder against Martin. Your backside rubbing against him and involuntarily making his hips begin to rut into you.

“Needy, needy little bunny…”

You thought it was Martin that had said it. But the voice came from in front of you. Michael couldn’t help himself. Your hand on his cock was enough to make him want to break character. He glanced a Martin, who only nodded. Your hand wasn’t enough for Michael and they both knew it.

Martin let his grip on your waist loosen, urging your forward as Michael stood. Your hand still gripped his cock, but Michael was quick to line himself up at your mouth. And you welcomed him instantly.

He pushed his mask higher, freeing his mouth and freeing the grunts that left him the second you took as much of his member into your mouth as you could. His hand tight in your hair, throwing the bunny ears off to the side.

Martin kept his fingers pumping, a firm smack to your backside making you jolt and take more of Michael’s cock down your throat. You could take it; they both knew you could.

Your slick was already dripping on to Martin’s hand. The combination of his fingers, the masks, Michael’s cock sliding in and out of your waiting mouth, you were aroused beyond anything you had ever felt before.

Your hips slowly began to push back in to Martin again, but he wasn’t going to give in and fuck you just yet. Both boys had agreed they would get their turn in your sweet warmth.

His own mask was pushed to his forehead, barely resting as he leaned down and swiped his tongue from your bud to your hole.

“Martin!” you whined out, muffled by Michael’s cock beginning to slam harder into your mouth.

Your moans vibrating down his length were almost enough to have him coming there and then. Both boys chuckled at your use of a name, wondering when you’d learned who was who. It didn’t matter really; the whole charade was almost forgotten.

His tongue continued it’s onslaught. Up and down, circling your bud and then your hole over and over again. Your hips pushing hard into his face, suffocating him almost in your flesh. His groans echoing through your body and making your eyes roll.

Michael tugged on your hair, reminding you to keep sucking and you complied immediately. You could already taste the salty pre-come on your tongue, you knew he was close. But before you could take anymore, he pulled back.

His face was suddenly at your level. Mask discarded as he kissed you.

“I’m only going to come in that pretty pussy, bunny.” His voice was almost sinful, lower than you’d ever heard it and laced with desire.

You were about to answer when Martin added his fingers back in, circling your pearl until you came with a wild moan of his name.

Before your tremors could subside, Martin pulled back and switched places with Michael.

“Fuck her good, our bunny is nice and wet.” Martin chuckled, replacing Michael in the seat in front of you.

You could see the bulge in his dark jeans. His hand palming himself as Michael turned you onto your back. He preferred you this way, knowing he’d be able to see your face.

Martin tugged his mask back down. You’d seen Michael in his, now it was your turn to see him.

“Think that mouth can take me?” Martin asked, unzipping his jeans and standing where Michael had been only moments ago.

You had your mouth open before he could even tug his jeans off. A long moan leaving you as Michael stroked your core. Your dress was soon tugged down, reminding your boys you’d gone braless tonight.

Michael had your panties down your legs and thrown to the side. He helped you shift up the bed, head hanging over the edge as Martin hovered near your face, the tip of his cock angled for your tongue to lick at.

Both boys pushed into you at the same time, your back arching up at the feeling. Martin let his head drop back. He’d never had your mouth at this angle before, but he made a mental note to do It again.

Michael pushed in slowly, spreading your legs wide so he could watch himself disappear in and out. He was already pent up from your mouth, this wouldn’t take long.

Once they found their rhythm, their pace was punishing. Smoothly sliding in and out of your mouth and cunt simultaneously. Your eyes rolling shut as your body succumbed to pleasure.

Michael’s hand returned to your chest, toying with both plump mounds until he felt his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck…fuck…” he grunted, leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth as he painted your walls with his spend.

A few more thrusts had you coming around him, milking whatever was left to spill from his swollen head. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs as you came down from the high.

Martin pulled himself from your mouth, smirking as the string of his pre-come and your saliva dribbled down your chin as you sat up.

Your hands reached out for Michael, pulling him down for a kiss as you heard Martin shift onto the bed. Michael helped you sit up, Martin tugging off his shirt and laying down on his back.

You tugged his jeans off with shaking hands, Michael off the bed and stripping the rest of his clothes. He helped you climb over Martin, gripping your hips as you hovered over Martin’s cock.

“Got one more in you? Think you can be a good girl and ride him?” Michael asked, rubbing circles on your hips and pressing kisses to your shoulders.

You nodded, Martin’s hands sliding up over your stomach and up to your breasts. You knew what your favourite body parts were for them both, but they would both agree on their love of your breasts.

Michael held you up as Martin lined himself up at your swollen and soaked entrance. He slid in with barely any resistance, a growl of pleasure leaving his lips.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” Michael cooed, suckling at your neck and urging your hips to roll.

Your pace was slow, guided by Michael until you found the strength move on your own.

Martin’s hands remained on your chest, kneading and tugging at your nipples until they pebbled under his fingers.

“You feel so good, bunny. You’ve taken us both so well.” Martin grunted, replacing Michael’s hands with his as he began to slam up into you.

He wanted to watch you come again before you were finished for the night. Your breasts bouncing, your juices coating the skin and hairs on his body below. You were so close; he could feel it.

“Come for us, pretty bunny…” Michael groaned, having leaned back on the bed and begun to lazily palm himself with no intention of coming again.

It was like his words and the combination of Martin’s harsh thrusts were enough. Your body falling forward, head buried in Martin’s neck as you came for at least the third time that night.

Martin thrusted a few more times, his hands on your ass and squeezing as he pumped you full.

Your name was the last thing on his lips, his hands stroking your back as you stayed slumped against him.

He gestured for Michael to get you water and a cloth to clean you. Normally they’d have you in the shower to get cleaned up, but you were far too spent for that.

Martin held you, turning you onto your back as Michael cleaned the combined juices between your thighs. Your eyes were barely open, but the blissed-out smile on your face told them everything they needed to know.

“Thank you,” you sighed, snuggling between them as Michael slid next to your free side.

You weren’t going to question how they knew. Not right now anyway. But the boys had begun to wonder something…

What other fantasies were hidden in those pages?

Ewanverse Taglist:

@anjelicawrites @aemondsbabygirl @sylasthegrim

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99

@hoosbandewan @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

@errruvande @aemondsbabe

@towriteloveontheirarms @thought--bubble

@tumblin-theworldaway @mysticalendings

@arcielee @peachysunrize @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @kaelatargaryen

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #martin (in the modern world) x reader #ewanverse #saltburn #martin (itmw) smut #martin (in the modern world) smut #modern au #x reader smut #x reader #poly au

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reidmania · 2 months ago

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sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter four, motion sickness)

'I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid. i faked it every time but that's alright. i can hardly feel anything, i hardly feel anything at all, I have emotional motion sickness somebody roll the windows down, there are no words in the english language, i could scream to drown you out'

summary; you never had someone make you feel safe enough to open up, until spencer. now trying to cope with his sudden absence you learn to lean on your new found friendship with his coworker, penelope.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset. reader is lowkey really mean, but shes coping guys. i think this is my favourite chapter out of all of them.

2.3k words

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea a @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

SERIES MASTERLIST

The lights are low, casting a soft, warm glow on the room, making it feel almost too cozy for the storm of emotions swirling inside of you. Penelope sits across from you on the other side of the coffee table, her vibrant personality seeming muted for once. She’s not wearing her usual bright colors, just a simple oversized shirt and pajama pants, the kind of clothes that scream comfort. It fits the night. It fits the conversation.

“You want to talk about it?” Penelope asks, voice gentle, but still full of that spark of energy that only she has. There’s no judgment there. Her eyes made you believe there never would be.

Your fingers tug absentmindedly at a loose thread on the hem of your sweatpants, the silence stretching between you like an invisible barrier. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Penelope doesn’t push. She doesn’t know you well enough to push. You’re not sure how to start, not sure how to talk about something you’re still struggling to process.

The night had consisted of making cookies, watching sickeningly sweet romance films you both gushed over — there were numerous times you had to stop your mind from drifting to Spencer, and when it did, you felt a sickening ache in your stomach. For the most part, besides those moments where the room fell quiet and your mind drifted, the night had been great.

“He just... stopped,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but Penelope catches it. Her eyes soften, and she leans forward slightly, offering silent encouragement for you to continue. "One day, Spencer was there, and the next... he wasn't. Theoretically of course..”

Spencer was different to anyone else you met, or at least he seemed that way. You thought he understood you. The way he listened, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you could breathe around him. No one had ever done that for you before. But then, when things had started getting real—when you both were on the verge of making it official—he disappeared. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was a commitment issue thing. Or if he really just had been playing with you the entire time.

“I don’t understand why,” you continue, the words tumbling out faster now, as if saying them out loud will make them make sense. “One day, we were close. He’d text me every morning. He’d ask how I was feeling, what I was doing. He made me feel… seen. Like he actually cared. And then, nothing. No calls, no messages. He just—”

“Ghosted you?” Penelope finishes for you, and the bluntness of the term hits you harder than you thought it would. You nod, feeling the sting of it all over again.

“He just disappeared,” you say, the words coming out harsh, jagged. You laugh bitterly, but there’s no humor in it. “Like I wasn’t even worth an explanation.”

Penelope’s hand reaches across the table, her fingers curling around yours in a comforting squeeze. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets you sit with the weight of your own pain. But her presence, her warmth, makes it feel a little less suffocating.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Spencer… he’s complicated. I don’t know why he did this to you, but I can tell you for sure, it’s not your fault. It never was.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to swallow down the hurt, but it lingers there, a dull ache that refuses to fade. It’s not just about Spencer ghosting you; it’s about all the hope you had pinned on him. You thought he was different, thought he could be the person who made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before.

You couldn’t help the embarrassment you felt, all you had been thinking about for days was ‘how could i be so stupid.’ You had your guard up for a reason. You didn’t date for a reason, and the fact that you had let him let you forget that. You were so mad at yourself.

You missed Spencer more than you were willing to admit. Sleep evades you, and when it comes, it’s restless—haunted by the ghost of his touch. Your limbs grew weary, not from movement but from the effort of carrying the silence he left behind.

Your lips twitch into a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s on me. I was stupid for thinking it would be different.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Penelope says firmly, her voice suddenly fierce in a way that surprises you. “No. You were not stupid. You opened up because he made you feel like you could, and that’s on him, not you. He gave you the signals. He made the promises, and then he broke them. Spencer—he’s got his issues. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t excuse what he did to you. You deserved better.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as Penelope’s words sink in. It’s hard to believe that sometimes, that you deserved better. Spencer had made you feel like you could finally let your guard down, but in the end, it just made the hurt cut deeper. — Maybe thats all you’d ever deserve.

“He made me feel safe,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “Which i know sounds stupid— But— I don’t know.. I trusted him.”

“And then he took that away,” Penelope finishes, her voice softening again, filled with understanding. “It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to be angry. You opened up to him because you trusted him, and he didn’t treat that trust the way he should have.”

You nod, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t wanted to cry tonight. You hadn’t wanted to break down. But being here with Penelope, his friend, his co-worker, who was so sweet and so understanding, it’s harder to keep everything bottled up.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, voice shaking. “Why would he make me feel like I mattered, like we were something, and then just leave?”

Penelope sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Spencer’s not great at dealing with his emotions,” she explains gently. “He’s always in his head, analyzing things, trying to make sense of the world. But feelings aren’t always logical. And sometimes… sometimes he runs from things he can’t control.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Well, he sure ran fast.”

Penelope gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand again. “I know it doesn’t make it easier, but sometimes people can care about you and still hurt you. It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real. It just means he is an idiot.”

You stare down at your hands, the weight of her words settling on your shoulders. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Spencer did care about you in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that he left you when you needed him most. It didn’t change the fact that you were still trying to pick up the pieces of your heart while he was nowhere to be found.

“I mean, he’s so damn smart, right? So.. So smart, always figuring things out. But apparently, figuring out how to treat people isn’t part of his skill set.”

Penelope chuckles softly, though there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah, sometimes Spencer’s great at solving every problem except the ones that really matter.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, shaking your head. The frustration still courses through your veins, and you grip the fabric of your pants tightly, trying to channel it somewhere, anywhere. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for some half-assed explanation either. If he wanted to tell me why he bailed, he would have.”

She nodded her head. “He is dumb.” She said.

A laugh passed through your lips as you nodded quickly in agreement. “How is he so smart — and sweet yet such a fucking coward? I’m so pissed that he couldn’t even end things in person — that he didn’t even say anything.” You ran your hands down your face.

Penelope smiled. Maybe you were being mean in order to deflect from the hurt in your heart and the way your brain fizzled with an overwhelming ache for the comfort of Spencer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask him about it?” She asked.

You were quick to shake your head. While you were desperate for an answer of what you could have possibly done — you weren’t desperate enough to go through his friends to get an answer. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing you cared so much. “No. No- Please don’t— Does he even know we have been talking?” Penelope was quick to shake her head with a grin.

“Nope! I haven’t said anything to him.. I sent a photo to JJ earlier of your bobble head collection, but I highly doubt she would’ve just shown Spencer?” She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders slightly. The words made you frown, yet glad. You didn’t care about Penelope sharing your silly bobble head collection, it was something you were very proud of.

“I don’t really care if he knows. Is it bad I hope he is really mad? Like I hope he is really really pissed off about it. Is that petty?” You tumbled out the questions as your mind swirled. You hoped he was mad because at least then in some way maybe you could believe he cared.

“Yes. Definitely petty.” Penelope nodded, a playful smile on her face. “But— If anyone has a right to be petty, it’s you.. You’re handing this better than I would. i’d want to egg his house.” She shrugged, the words made a string of laughter leave your lips.

“I really really do want to” You said honestly, “maybe then he would have to say something” It was silly, but it would lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. It was childish, and immature and so petty, but leaving someone with no explanation was also just as childish and immature so in your head, it evened out.

“I reckon he would start crying” Penelope giggled.

“God I hope so.” you huffed out, running your hands through your hair before a small smile made way onto your lips as you looked up at the blonde women. The last thing you expected was to get along so quickly with the girl. You had expected it to be awkward between the two of you, but it wasn’t. You two spent hours watching silly chick-flics and laughing, before this conversation even started.

“Thank you- by the way. For this” you mumbled, referring to her just being there. She didn’t have to. She didn’t know you, she didn’t owe you anything, she was Spencer’s friend, not yours.

Penelope grinned widely, “Don’t thank me. I love boy genius but he can be such a tool sometimes without even realising it. He fucked up and you need somebody, plus who else would make sugar cookies with me?” She teased.

You curled up by Penelope’s side, smiling at her gently. You really were grateful. “Speaking of sugar cookies, do you think we could frost them yet?”

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awbublie · 1 month ago

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wait my mc lore just dropped 🙀🙀

mc lore is here >.< fret not!!

they are a glorified self-insert i am shameless and will insert myself into my favorite media!!!

though she isn't a complete rip-off of me, maybe like 60% me

though i do love napco figurines

(edit: im so stupid and thought mx stood for mexican😭😭😓)

relationship charts!!!

caught mc on a good day!:

essentially means mc got a higher score than 60 on a test and just got a sweet treat.

feeling like contributing to society, she helps this rando return a phone.

seven:

both work with computers, he's just levels ahead of them.

inferiority complex kicks in til he starts helping her with assignments and omg im in love with this man.

likes his jokes and his robots are sooooo cool, "you think you can make one look like this? :3" insert image

calls him so he can practice his english and she can practice her korean.

the flirty banter really kicks up and they get their hopes up

gets butthurt day 8 when he turns them down.

jaehee:

desperate for female friends mc is overly-sweet and clingy.

jaehee is overwhelmed and explains in order for them to be proper friends time is needed.

they are now bonding over coffee beans and how mc brought some from her last Mexico trip

i WANT THEM TO LIVE TOGETHER SO BAD

yoosung:

misses her siblings so he's the closest to a little brother.

finds out guys don't typically like that when you tell them that, especially if they are older.

they make up and bond over their no-life life

trains in LOLOL for the next couple days bc DANG IT SHE WILL PLAY IN HIS LOBBYS!!!!

share shoujo recs

zen:

when he flirts at first, her heart flutters.

till jaehee gives her the warning, and atp jaehees word is bible

finds him silly but like in a older man kind of way

finds his costumes interesting and asks about the type of fabrics they use

during 707 route, she leans into the whole big sister zen and LOVES IT

jumin:

not too big with rich people and was quick to form an opinion

finds out ab Elizabeth and everything that they had thought gets thrown out the window WHAT A NICE MAN!

til shes asking about the area and he says something along the lines of "why move to a country you know nothing about? You are simply asking to fail. "

YEAH HES RIGHT BUT HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY THATTT 😭😭😭

is bitter for the next 2 days before she gets over it

caught mc on a bad day!:

felt with the daddy issues (we cannot control our fathers we have nothing to do with our father's errors they do not define what we do or who we become we can disagree with them and still love them)

the professor was moving too quickly during class, her computer was working, she fell behind and her brain is fried. it feels like it's been happening more and more....honestly it feels easier just to rot in bed sleeping.

getting a random message just worsens her mood. "i cant even help myself and im supposed to help you?" rolling over to try to make sense of the class notes.

saeran:

got kidnapped and had their laptop open

"you follow me on github?"

mc BEGS for him to teach them everything he knows

ends up becoming an intern and moving their classes online

but wait...this guy is lwk kinda cute....

and he's taking the time to teach me??? >.<

blind to their situation mc follows instructions and fufills small tasks

saeran gives her badge "ID:10T"

cleaning his code to filling up the office waterbottle, all in payment for bootcamp-saeran™

reminds her of a teacher she had once, ick

finds him to be kind of a doormat, but so is she

doesn't enjoy seeing how others might view her

(707 route bc i forgot to mention him there) can't help but feel sorry for him, she may not trust him but i mean cmon they can't help but feel bad dude lost his fiance and now seems like he can't keep his life together

rika:

again, desperate for female friends, but this one IS SO DIFFERENT

this is like when you make eye contact with someone of a similar group and you kinda expect automatic friendship but they are cold to you

mc is either ignorant of mint eyes operations or is slowly being indoctrinated, they don't meet rika very often.

they form a kind of bitterness towards her, rooted in her insecurities

"how can someone be so loved?" "how can someone just 'create' a world of their own" "whats so special about her, i'd be able to do something like that too"

by only hearing of her through saeran they feel so insignificant to her influence, it weakens them

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 2 months ago

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The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 10

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 10 🔞

Word Count: 4329

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Forgive me guys, I haven't really had the time to write a lot this week, and I'll be teaching a course near the end of the month so, limited time again. I might have to stick to one weekly update instead of two. Sorry! Also, the 🔞 is for very suggestive talk. I hope you enjoy this one!

“The game is pretty simple!” Baby 5 begins, a microphone in hand. The bride has rounded up all the couples on today's guest list - there are around a dozen, from younger couples to older couples - and she's explaining the rules of the first game. Law tried to shy away from the festivities, but Baby 5 wanted her favourite cousin to enter the games. You're pretty excited about it too, it might be fun. “One of you grabs a heart-shaped balloon and writes a love message on it. I'll collect them, inflate them, and read the message. It's the job of the other half of the couple to guess which message is meant for them.”

“Oh, this is fun!” You say while reaching for the balloon.

Law takes the balloon from your hand with a smirk. “Very fun, let me.” The glint in his eyes tells you that his message will be interesting and you're both dreading and anticipating it.

Law turns his back on you when he catches you peeking at what he's writing and you stifle a giggle. When Baby 5 comes to collect the balloon, she raises her eyebrow. “You let Law write the message? Oh, this is going to be interesting.” Law smirks and you gulp.

“Alright, I have all the balloons here! Now, when I read what you think is the message for you, you come and claim your balloon, got it?” The crowd agrees and she claps excitedly. “Partners who wrote the message, no cheating!”

Law senses your excitement and he chuckles, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you closer to him. “This is a silly game.” He says, but you notice the slight amusement in his tone.

“You don't have to pretend that it's annoying you, Law, I can see you're entertained.” You awe and clap at an older couple whose message was part of a love poem: ‘She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies.’

“Oh, I will be entertained, alright. Pay attention, sweetheart, you don't want to miss my message.” He sounds so mischievous that you have to giggle.

Baby 5 keeps reading the balloons and the messages are all heartfelt confessions and love poems. You can almost bet your savings that Law would never write something like that, and his smug smirk confirms it.

As you look at him, your heart flutters slightly in your chest and, once again, you feel like you’re part of a real relationship. Your lips are still tingling from the earlier kiss - public claim? - and, suddenly, you feel bad for having pushed him too far. His reaction was unexpected and you were only thinking about yourself in the moment. Perhaps it wasn’t your brightest move.

“Law?”

He hums softly near your ear, sending a ticklish sensation down your neck, his eyes never leave his cousin.

“I owe you an apology.” You both clap as another couple guesses the message right - ‘If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you’ - and then Law fixes his amber gaze on you with curiosity.

“Why?”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips. “I pushed too far this morning.” A light blush tints your cheeks and you look back at Baby 5 to avoid Law's piercing gaze. “We… we were both vulnerable with each other yesterday, baring our insecurities and fears and I… foolishly joked about…” You gesture around with another sigh. “Mingling.”

Law doesn't speak, and though you're still watching Baby 5, hearing her read ‘I love you more than chocolate. But please, don’t make me prove it’, you can feel his gaze burning your face.

A laughing girl walks towards Baby 5 and her girlfriend gives her a very heated kiss that gets the crowd cheering. Law pinches your chin with his index finger and thumb forcing you to look into his eyes and, for just a second, you're scared of what you're about to find there.

Which is silly, because there's only tenderness.

“Sweetheart, I love the way you push me. Trust me, it was nowhere near far enough.” He dips his head, his lips hovering just above yours. “I can read you like a book and I know when you're testing me playfully. Don't worry on my account, okay? I'll be honest if anything rubs me the wrong way, as long as you do the same.”

You nod, too stunned because he used the word love and it's still bumping around your head as if it were a ball and your brain the pinball machine.

“Oh, my.” Baby 5 has just inflated another balloon and she's giggling into the microphone. “This one is interesting.” Somehow you know this has to be Law's message and he must sense it too because you both look back at the bride, your heart hammering with such violence that you think it might just jump out and start walking on its own. “It just says: ‘Mine’” She turns the balloon towards the crowd, some laugh, some gasp, you flare up, turning beet red. Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle a gasp that turns into a giggle. This is so Law!

You take a deep breath and shake your head as you stride forward to retrieve your balloon, ignoring whistles from the crowd as they realise who wrote the message. “Oh, I should've guessed!” Baby 5 laughs as she hands you the balloon. “Look out gentlemen, I think this was more a warning than a message!”

You're still blushing as you return to Law's side, feeling all eyes on you. You especially notice a pair of flaming red ones piercing you from behind tinted sunglasses.

“Mine, Law, really?” His smirk is impossibly smug.

“I told you people shouldn't stare. Now they know.” His eyes scan the crowd and he grunts again, enveloping your waist with both arms and pulling you closer to him. “Or maybe not. Maybe I should tie that balloon to your dress so everybody gets the message.”

You giggle at his silliness - especially because nobody is paying attention to you at this point - and you playfully wrap your arms around his neck, feeling more like a couple than ever and trying to convince yourself that you’re only doing this for the sake of your ‘fake relationship’. “So I would be walking around carrying your heart, Law?” You tease him with another giggle, your fingers playing with the hair at his nape without you giving them permission to. The stare he pins you with is serious and unwavering.

“What if you already are?”

A rush of heat travels through your body at his words and you swear your heart stops for a beat, restarting again, pounding faster and harder. What? The smile on your face is quickly erased as you're trying your hardest to read Law's expression. He didn't use the signal. He didn't even say his ‘if this were true’ motto. Is he being real?

You open your mouth to answer when you're interrupted by Baby 5. “Guys, I already called everybody for the next game! Come on, you can suck face later.”

You smile wearily and let go of Law, taking his hand instead to follow her. Yet you can't stop the loud beating of your heart or shake away the kaleidoscope of butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Is this real?

-*-

You've been playing silly trust games, like walking blindfolded and only following your partner's instructions and answering quizzes with questions like, ‘what’s your partner’s favourite colour?’ or ‘what’s your partner’s favourite movie?’. Safe to say you got all of those right and passed with flying colours.

Now, Baby 5 announces yet another game and Law groans, looking at his watch. “Got somewhere else to be?” You ask with a grin. You’re actually enjoying this way too much while Law looks more miserable by the hour. Doflamingo hasn’t addressed any of you since his earlier interaction, so you’re feeling confident since everyone else takes you for a real couple who’s madly in love.

“Anywhere but here?” He smirks at you.

“I think this might be the last game, then you’re off the hook.”

“Alright, alright, everyone gather round! So for this final game, we’re going to have one partner blindfolded…” She pauses for dramatic effect and the guests cheer. “And, in complete silence,” she emphasises the words, “they’re going to have to find their better half by touch alone while navigating the crowd. Now, this is where it gets fun! I’m inviting the singles to join in on the disruption! We don’t want the game to be too easy, do we?”

Watching Doflamingo and Bellamy join the area, you tense up again. It’s time to step up your game. You’re not going to fail this. Law is also visibly tensing and you sense his uneasiness when he reaches for the blindfold and tells you to turn around.

“You’ll find me. I know you will, this is just a silly game and we’ve already proven that we’re very good at silly games.” He whispers near your ear before setting the silk material over your eyes and tying it up in a tight knot. Your head jerks back softly with the motion and you can’t help but let out a small gasp. Law notices it because in a heartbeat his lips are back near your ear. “You like that, sweetheart, being blindfolded by my hands?”

The voice!

Swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in your throat and wiping your sweaty hands on your dress, you nod slowly, not trusting your voice enough to grace him with an answer.

“Noted.” He slurs and places the lightest of kisses on your neck, making you shiver as you try to focus more on the task at hand and less on the throbbing between your thighs.

“Everybody ready?” The crowd cheers at Baby 5’s words, but you remain silent. You’re not ready. This is losing control to the extreme, and Law is not near you anymore. So you’re already feeling lost and overwhelmed, because losing control to Law is one thing, losing control, period, is another. “Begin the search for your partner, couples! Singles, disrupt!”

You take slow shallow breaths to try and calm the beating of your heart. You know there are no obstacles in the area around you, just people. A lot of people. Some bump into you, making you gasp from the sudden contact, others snicker and laugh around you to try and confuse you and it’s all too overwhelming.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done this.

“Focus, sweetheart.” You hear him somewhere to your right, so you turn in that direction.

“This is a silent game, people!” Baby 5 admonishes Law without singling him out, but it’s alright because his voice grounded you and you do as he says: you focus.

You move tentatively, small steps at a time, hoping people get out of your way before you bump them. You reach out your hands so you can try to discern guests, trying to find Law. Here, a suit, shoulders, it’s not him. Too short. “Nope.” You mutter and move forward, step by step. Your fingers grip against a tie and you dismiss another person, Law’s not wearing a tie. “Not you…”

Slowly you begin to gain your confidence back, quickly dismissing guests because you can easily feel they’re not Law. Until you bump against someone who doesn’t get out of your way. Muttering an apology, you extend your hand and find a hard, steely chest. But it’s too high. It’s not Law. “Not you.” You make a move to continue your path, but the person grips your hand before you can completely pull away. A small intake of breath parts your lips as your hand is pressed firmly against the chest again.

“Are you sure I’m not who you’re looking for, princesa?” He whispers and your legs wobble while a cold shiver runs through you. You try to remove your hand, but Doflamingo’s grip is strong. “Check again.”

“No, sir.” You wince as he grips your hand harder, but you know he won’t do anything else, you’re in public. “I’m looking for Law, not you.” You say as you pull harder and he releases you with an icy chuckle.

“Are you sure about that?” His question follows you but you pretend to ignore it as you trek forward, nerves rattled, panting breaths and wishing for this to end.

And then you feel the lightest brush of fingers against your waist. You’re not quite sure the direction it came from, but it doesn’t matter because your instincts take over and you’re drawn to Law as if you are magnets. Your hands collide against his chest and a jolt travels up your arms and settles gently in your chest. “Law.” You whine in relief as his hands remove the blindfold from your eyes.

When his gaze meets yours, you see a hint of worry in his golden eyes. “Hey, it’s over. I’ve got you.” You nod, your fingers digging into his shirt as his arms wrap around you in a warm embrace. “Lost too much control, sweetheart?”

You stifle a resigned chuckle against his chest. “I never want to play this again. I hated it.”

His presence grounds you and soothes you. His scent envelopes you in a comforting embrace while his arms pull you back into the controlled environment your mind had wandered away from. You're still basking in his comfort when Baby 5 approaches you both with a wide grin, dragging Sai by the hand. “Congratulations, you two. You won our games contest!”

“Contest?” You ask, pulling yourself away from Law with a tremendous effort.

“Yeah, silly! Maybe if you two stopped being so lost in each other, you would've actually listened to what I said.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “You won a private photo shoot with my wedding photographer - the best in Grand Line City!” She squeals in excitement. “So go change into your formal attire for the rehearsal dinner and meet the photographer by the greenhouse in half an hour, got it?”

A photo shoot? For you two? As a couple?

Your heart warms at the prospect of keeping a memento of the wonderful time you are having with Law. But your mind tells you that it will just be a memory of something that is bound to give you heartache when you eventually fall apart.

“Sounds fun.” Law says near your ear, and his words are such a contradiction to the scowl on his lips that you can't hold back a laugh.

“You could've fooled me. We'll be there, Baby 5. Thank you.” The grunt Law exhales only makes you laugh harder.

-*-

You had previously selected the dress for the rehearsal dinner - or Nami did, actually - and it's gorgeous. The dress hugs your body perfectly with strategically placed slits to enhance your figure. Its colour makes your eyes pop and your hair stand out. It's perfect. As you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you can't help but feel a tingle of excitement at Law's reaction. He always has a compliment ready for you, but you've never looked so gorgeous as you do now.

Closing your makeup case and adding the finishing touches to your hair, you glance at the half-open zipper on the back of your dress. Maybe if you really tried you could've closed it yourself, but you decide to ask for help instead.

Today things with you and Law have been going great. You've bonded, you've kissed, you've flirted… It feels like a real relationship. Maybe… Maybe you can take this one step further, why not? You're both adults, if you like each other what's stopping you?

‘Nothing’ is the word that keeps repeating in your head as you open the bathroom door. Your heart was already thumping dramatically against your chest, but one look at Law dressed in a complete suit has you salivating on sight.

Your legs almost lose their strength when he locks eyes with you. He looks so handsome.

“You look-... - you’re beautiful.” His eyes burn into your figure and a blush creeps its way to your nose and cheeks.

“Thank you. You look very dashing yourself, Mr. Trafalgar.” You imitate a posh accent and he chuckles. Then you turn slightly. “Can you help zip me up?”

You hear a confirmation as he approaches you with large strides. You're in front of the vanity so you can see him behind you. And you're mesmerised by him. You watch his throat bob up and down as he stares at your bare back, his eyes darkening with a haze and you feel a tingle in your skin even before he raises his hands. His mere presence commands you and then you make the mistake of taking a deep breath. He smells divine.

Law's hands touch the back of your dress and his fingers are light as feathers. He's breathing near the curve of your neck and each of his rapid breaths brings a shiver down your spine, a clenching to your heart, and an ache between your thighs.

“You're driving me insane…” He murmurs against your skin and you close your eyes, the deepness of his voice enveloping you like a lover's caress. His fingers graze your back as he slowly pulls the zipper up. “You look gorgeous…” Law brushes his lips against the exposed bone at the nape of your neck. “You smell delicious…” Burying his nose in the curve of your shoulder, he takes a deep breath. “You look ready to devour.” Then he exhales near your earlobe, making you arch your neck and grip the vanity so hard with your hands, that you almost sense the wood cracking.

“Law…”

He pulls the zipper all the way up and you see him grin at you in the mirror, that particularly unhinged grin that makes you weak in the knees. “What is it, sweetheart? If you don't say what you want, how do I know what to do?”

Since his hands are no longer occupied with the zipper, he brings one of them to your belly, opening it flat against your stomach and pulling you flush against him. You can sense how much he's aroused by this moment and, judging by the ache between your legs, you're equally turned on.

But what do you want him to do?

“Law!” You whine, not sure what to ask for but wanting him to give you everything.

“Yes, sweetheart?” His hand traces patterns against your stomach and teases the underside of your breasts and, even without touching them, you can feel how hard your nipples are from all his teasing.

“I don't know what I want, just… Please!” His low chuckle caresses your ear and sets you ablaze.

“Maybe I can tell you what I want. How about that?” You can feel the deep rumble of his timbre coming from his chest vibrating against your back. His voice makes you throb and gasp and you nod. “That's good sweetheart. Open your eyes.” You do, chest already heaving from shortened breaths and cheeks slightly flushed. “You're going to watch your face in the mirror as I tell you all the things I want to do to you, got it? If you close your eyes, I'll have to punish you.” His thumb grazes your nipple again and you whine because the touch is not enough to soothe and it only serves to ignite. “I need a verbal answer.”

“Yes, Law. I got it.” You train your eyes on your expression and flush further at how vulnerable you appear. Your breath catches at the way Law's hand covers you and at how long his fingers are.

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart.” You obey. “I’m going to tell you step by step what’s been playing on my mind on repeat.” Anticipation builds in your core and you clench your fists, holding your breath “I want to start by slowly licking every inch of skin on your body, worshipping you like the goddess you are and leaving no crevice untouched. I will take extra care with your neck, learning just how sensitive you are, and leaving you breathless.” His tongue traces a sinful pattern against your neck and you gasp. “And when I slowly get to your breasts, I will roll your nipple against my tongue, take it between my teeth and bite you in a way that's going to have you dripping down your legs. You won't know if it's pain, pleasure or both. And you'll want more of it.”

Your legs start to wobble at the vivid image he’s painting. The sensuality of his words is further enhanced by his voice and his touch. Law has you under his spell and you can't - nor do you want to - break from it.

His other hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressing against your artery so he can feel it flutter under his skin, so he can sense how lost you truly are in this moment. You look at your reflection in the mirror and the throbbing between your legs only intensifies. “My hands will follow the trail my tongue creates with a gentle caress. I will have you arching your back, leaning against my touch, squirming and begging for more even before my tongue touches your clit.”

An unbridled moan escapes your lips as you think about Law's head between your thighs and you close your eyes for a beat, too lost in the moment. Law presses your neck gently and pinches your nipple making you jump and mewl. “Law!” A gasp escapes you and he smirks deviously.

“Eyes open sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” You mutter, your mouth half parted and your hands clenched into fists against your sides.

“I know, I know.” The smugness in his voice only makes you wetter and by heavens above, you need this man to touch you. “You'll be cursing too, when I place my fingers inside of you just to find out how much you need me. And how ready and willing you are for me.” He lowers his hand, his pinky going lower than your abdomen and you throb incessantly, yearning for his touch. “Hot. Tight. Slick. Taking my fingers so well.” His words brush against your ear but they might as well be caressing you everywhere. This is unbearable. You need some sort of release. He's just building you up, his flames licking higher and higher and it's taking up all the oxygen. You need more. So much more.

“Please, Law… please…”

“Yes, sweetheart. It's okay. You would behave so well, being such a good girl. You know what would happen?” You mewl a weak reply, something unintelligible even to you. “You'd come on my fingers once, and on my tongue again, until I bent you over this vanity and buried myself so deep in you that you would barely keep your eyes open.” His hot breath caresses your ear before he whispers, “And then you'd come on my cock. Twitching and squirming and taking all of me so, so well.”

Fuck, it's too much. His filthy talk is making you want to close your eyes and give in, touch yourself or rub against something to stop this ache, this need, this insane desire he keeps weaving with his sinful words. You need - want - everything! You…

“I want it all, Law.” You confess, breathless, as you turn your head to the side, facing him with hazy eyes and parted lips. Absentmindedly there's a little notification in your brain that pops up reminding you neither of you used the signal before this interaction.

But who cares?

Because Law's fingers tighten on your jaw tilting your face towards him, the hand on your stomach grips harder, fingers protruding your skin and he smirks smugly once more, though you can very well read the hunger in his eyes. “Can you handle it all?”

You nod for a second before you turn in his embrace and dig your fingers into his scalp, pulling him down to your lips into a heated kiss. He's as pent-up as you apparently, because his tongue latches immediately onto yours and his hands hoist you up, setting you on the vanity again in a repeat from last night, though this time there's no lingering hurt or unwanted vulnerability. There's not even the haze of alcohol between you.

There's just desire.

And maybe something more…

This time there will be no what-ifs. This is true. You know it, you feel it.

And it's happening.

Law's hands caress your thighs and you open your legs for him in a silent invitation. The slits of the dress are there for his use, and he doesn't hesitate. Without parting the kiss, Law's fingers travel the inside of your thigh and you moan in anticipation. You know you're soaked. You need his touch. You can practically feel the tips of his fingers near your panties…

Until Law's phone rings with a sound so loud it makes you gasp, your heart pounding harder against your chest as you both part, breathless and dishevelled.

“Fuck!” Law curses, uncharacteristically rattled, and picks up the phone with a grunt. “Baby 5, I can literally see you. We're waving at you. Open your eyes!” Then he disconnects the call, places his hands on the vanity one on each side of your legs and sighs as his eyes search yours. “We have to go…”

You're still slightly addled. Your heart is still out of rhythm and the throbbing hasn't stopped, but you both know the moment has passed and you need to go. So you smile reassuringly at him, your hands resting above his, ignoring the way that touching him sends a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“Raincheck?” You try, turning your smile into a smirk.

A chuckle escapes his lips as he helps you get down from the vanity. “Definitely.”

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @jqperi @rainbow2312 @ren-ni @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 11|

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #the meet cute #law x reader #reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law #reader insert #law #you x law #reader x law #Spotify

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