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readsaboutreid · 7 months ago

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Periods Suck | S.R.

this is inspired by lenaleechi on instagram's comic about hating periods as well as the gif above because it gives me mad baby fever so i guess this is season 4 softdom!spencer x gn!afab!bau!reader plus a blink and you'll miss it buffy the vampire slayer reference

content warning: breeding kink and period sex [i'm too stoned to think of any others but if you think of them please add them (kindly) in the replies and i'll add them in later :)]

this is smut, minors dni pls and thank you

"...fuck this, fuck everything and everyone, I am done, I quit," I ramble as I open the door to my apartment and kick off my dress shoes that were painfully squeezing my toes, just adding to my frustration. This case had been particularly mild compared to others but I couldn't help but be in a mood due to the littlest things done by the (admittedly innocent) local police officers. I was so relieved to finally go home and get to sleep in my own bed and curl up with a heating pad and my boyfriend with a Doctor Who marathon.

"Deep breaths, (y/n)," I hear from behind me in a soft, soothing tone as gentle hands come down to rub my shoulders from behind. I know he’s well aware what’s causing me to be in such a shitty mood. His pattern recognition skills are off the chart and while he never outright said anything to me about it he'd always be prepared with hot water bottles and chocolate when this time of the month rolled around. I turn around and bury my face into his chest with a sigh.

"I hate periods, Spencer. They suck," I whine with a sigh, my voice muffled by the knit fabric of his cardigan.

"I know, love," he sighs above me, resting his cheek on my forehead and wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry there's not more I could do to help."

"You're helping already," I sigh again, but this time out of contentment as we sway side to side in the entry way. "I wish there was a way I could just, like, stop having them," I mutter, my face returning to the soft fibers that I had come to find so comforting over the years.

Spencer's voice is muffled against my hair as he mutters, "That may be something I can assist you with." I don't even need to see his face to imagine the grin spread across it. Lately, he had been subtly expressing his desire for children, but after JJ gave birth to Henry, his hints have become more pressing. And technically, it was all because of me.

The night was a blur of celebration and drinks, as Emily and Garcia joined me in raising our glasses to toast the occasion. But as we were caught up in the joy of the moment, I couldn't help but let slip that after seeing the pure happiness on Spencer's face at the sight of his godchild a spark ignited within me, igniting a fierce case of baby fever that threatened to consume me entirely. Garcia, the horrible traitor that she is, had messaged a video of my confession to Spencer before I had even finished talking and before I knew it, my phone was buzzing with pictures from Spencer himself - tiny onesies and miniature sneakers - accompanied by words like, ‘just imagine a little genius of our own running around our home in this.’

Without changing his stance, he starts off on one of his typical Spencer Reid rants. "Did you know that scientific research has indicated that orgasms can alleviate menstrual cramps? It's due to the release of endorphins and muscular contractions which help relax the uterine lining," he explains with a slight hint of arousal in his tone, "not only does it address your discomfort, but it also takes care of your other request at the same time."

"We could start trying now, if you want," he suggests with a playful tone, though the subtle hint of desire in his voice sends a jolt of anticipation down my spine and settles between my thighs, igniting a fervent ache. Oh. Oh.

I finally turn my head to meet his gaze, and I am met with intense desire radiating from his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and he licks his lips before gently tracing a finger along my cheek and following up with a soft, "what do you think?"

I interrupt him by pulling his face towards mine, and our lips meet in a soft kiss. Suddenly, I'm pushed against the wall with the command to "jump," and my legs automatically wrap around Spencer as he lifts me up by my ass. Our lips met in a hungry yet tender kiss.

Our breaths come in ragged gasps as he pulls away to meet my gaze, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. I eagerly nod, my heart racing and anticipation building. Our lips collide once more, the heat between us intensifying as we lose ourselves in each other's embrace. The world fades into the background as our bodies meld together, consumed by desire. He sets me down and guides me to our bedroom by the hand, giggling slightly with excitement. I know he wants kids and we have discussed having them together in the future but the giddiness of the grown ass man in front of me ends up drawing a giggle from my own throat as well.

As we enter the bedroom, he stoops down to give me a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom. He grabs an old black towel I use for dyeing my hair and returns, laying it down on the bed and patting it lightly. He sends me sweet smile full of adoration as he whispers, "after you, my love."

I stumble towards the light switch and turn it off before making my way over to the bed. I take off my top and lay down, the darkness giving me a sense of privacy. Suddenly, I hear a soft sound from Spencer as he walks away. The lights flick back on, and he quickly closes the distance between us with just two steps. Before I can even cover myself up in the glare of the harsh light, he's already crawling on top of me.

"You're so gorgeous," he beams at me again before leaning in to kiss me gently, lowering his hips to rest between my legs as they wrap back around his hips instinctively as he begin peppering kisses all over my face and drawing endless laughs from my mouth, "I'm," kiss, "so," kiss, "lucky," kiss, "to," kiss, "have," kiss, "you."

He moves back, his lips leaving a trail of fire as they kiss and caress my skin. My jaw trembles under the soft brush of his lips, before he slowly trails kisses down to my throat. I can't help but let out a moan as his lips touch the sensitive skin there. His body presses against mine, the unmistakable hardness of his arousal pressing against my hypersensitive center. Every move, every touch, sends electric shivers through my body, igniting a primal desire within me.

My body aches with desire as I struggle to catch my breath. "Please remove your clothing now," I manage to say between deep, passionate kisses. Spencer eagerly strips down and helps me out of my own clothes before settling back between my legs. His arousal presses against the wetness between my thighs, adding to the intense heat building inside me.

"I've been craving this all week, sweetness," he mutters against my neck as he sucks feverishly at the skin, leaving love bites in his wake. "Craving you and your beautiful body." I have no idea how he managed to get me from wildly upset to wildly horny in such a short time, but instead of questioning it, I just let out a moan as I grind my hips against him, begging for his cock to enter me. He continues to tease me by rubbing the tip against my wet slit.

“P-please, Spence,” I whimper, unable to form a coherent sentence through the haze of lust I had become quickly lost within.

Spencer's eyes flicker with desire as he holds himself over me, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of my head. "Say it again," he growls, rubbing his erection against my aching center.

"P-please," I beg, my voice shaking with need.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

"As you wish," he murmurs before slowly sliding inside me. I gasp at the intense pleasure that washes over me, causing my body to arch off the bed and my nails to dig into his back. He begins to move in slow, deep thrusts, filling me completely and igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume every inch of my being.

As our bodies meld together in a blazing inferno, time itself seems to cease to exist. Every touch of Spencer's fingers sends shivers of ecstasy coursing through me, while each caress of his lips against mine ignites a fire within. Our movements are fluid and perfect, each one bringing us closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. I am consumed by an overwhelming sensation, my senses heightened to their limits as our passion reaches an almost unbearable intensity. It feels as though this moment could stretch on for eternity, and I never want it to end. In this single moment, there is nothing else but the all-consuming desire between us, and I give myself completely to it.

My heart pounds against my ribs as Spencer's gaze locks onto mine, his eyes filled with the same ferocity and desire that burns within me. He gives me a wicked grin, and I can feel my resolve crumble as the insatiable hunger consumes me. "You want to have my baby?" he gasps, and all I can respond with is a loud, whorish moan, entirely unable to form any words as his hips start to move ever so slightly faster.

He surges forward, his body fusing with mine in a wild, primal dance. Our movements become more frenzied, our bodies slamming together with the force of a thousand thunderstorms. My breath comes in short gasps as Spencer's relentless thrusts coax an orgasm out of me. My muscles tense, my hips bucking against him, seeking the sweet release from the intense pleasure building up inside of me.

Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word sends me higher and higher, my body arching and bucking beneath him in a frenzy of ecstasy.

Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine as he continues to drive into me, his gaze burning with an intensity that matches the fire inside us both. His hands grip my hips tightly, never losing rhythm as he thrusts into me and coaxes that sweet release from me. My body trembles and shakes with each surge, and I can feel the orgasm building, growing stronger and more intense with each passing second.

A low, guttural moan escapes from Spencer's lips as he picks up the pace, his movements becoming harder and faster. I can feel him growing more desperate, and I know that he's close to his own release.

The pleasurable ache between my legs intensifies, and I know that I'm about to reach that peak. I let out a helpless whimper as the pleasure was threatening to overtake me, and I feel as though I'm being pulled into a vortex of ecstasy. Time seems to stand still, and I'm lost in the moment, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

The bed creaks and groans with our passionate lovemaking, the sound echoing in my ears as I reach for the pinnacle of pleasure. Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine, and I see the same intensity in them that I feel in my own being. We're one, united in our desire for each other, and nothing else matters in this world.

His thrusts become harder and faster, the tip of his erection brushing against the most sensitive part of me with every stroke. The pleasure is overwhelming, and I can feel the orgasm building within me, growing stronger with each passing second. I cling to Spencer, my nails digging into his back as I beg him to take me over the edge.

“Gonna fill you up,(Y/N),” Spencer moans, “everyone will know who you belong to once you’re — oh fuck — carrying my fucking baby inside you.” His words send me falling over the edge and I can feel myself slipping away, my mind consumed by the intense pleasure reaching it's peak as my hips buck wildly.

Time seems to stand still as we reach the pinnacle of pleasure together. Our bodies move in perfect sync, every thrust, every caress, every whispered word fueling the fire that burns within us. The pleasure is all-consuming, coursing through my veins and reaching every cell in my body. I let out a series of orgasmic moans bordering on screams and Spencer smiles down at me wickedly, his eyes never leaving mine as his thrusts become harder and more disjointed as his own orgasm looms on the horizon. His moans grow louder and louder as the feeling of slight overstimulation makes me clench even tighter around his throbbing cock as he reaches his breaking point.

"Please, Spencer," I whisper, "make me yours, sir. P-please, please put a baby in me!"

Finally, with one last deep thrust, Spencer moans loudly and shudders above me, his body rigid as he loses himself in the pleasure of a release he had been building up to for what felt like an eternity. As Spencer's body shudders above mine, I can feel the warmth of his release filling me up, an earth-shattering feeling that takes my breath away. We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined together, basking in the afterglow of our passion. Finally, with a contented sigh, Spencer pulls out of me and collapses onto the bed beside me.

I snap back to reality, my mind reeling from the intensity of our lovemaking. I can feel the stickiness between my legs, a reminder of the incredible moment we just shared. The room is still, the only sounds being our heavy breathing and the rhythmic beating of our hearts. I reach over to grab the bedside table, searching for a tissue to clean myself up.

"Spencer?" I say softly, my voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he replies, still out of breath.

I flash him a saucy grin, "I think we'll have to make sure we keep trying this before my next period so I won't have to suffer through another one, for a while." I joked, while playfully poking his chest.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, "I think that's a great idea, my love." I couldn't help but giggle at his response, feeling a burst of warmth spread through my body.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

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mysunshinetemptress · 5 months ago

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Unseen, Unwanted, Indifferent

Leah Williamson x McCabe!reader

Warnings: Pure angst

Read part 1&2 here-You see me Wanted,Unwanted

The makeup wipe snagged on a stray eyelash, leaving a black streak against your cheek. Frustration bubbled up, mirroring the turmoil in your stomach. Leah's birthday party was in two hours, and doubt gnawed at you like a hungry rat.

The vintage Thiery Henry jersey framed in corner of your room, the one you didn't even debate on gifting to Leah, suddenly felt childish, a relic from a past life before Leah. A life where "pretty enough" wasn't a constant mantra echoing in your head.

What if she didn't like it," "What if she wanted you to buy her a fancy necklace...a ring...a bracelet, not a jersey that had been hanging up in your bedroom since you were seven." You shook your head "She'll love it her Mam said so."

You forced a smile, the reflection in the mirror unconvincing. Leah's Mam might have said it, but sometimes moms sugarcoated things, especially when it came to their precious daughters. You gnawed on your lip, the familiar metallic tang a grounding presence.

The jersey, a faded crimson with the legendary "14" emblazoned on the back, held memories. Memories of childhood afternoons spent glued to the TV, mesmerized by Henry's lightning-fast runs and audacious goals. It wasn't just a jersey; it was a symbol of a passion you shared with Leah, a connection forged over the love for a team, and the idolisation of the same player.

Taking a deep breath. Maybe it wasn't a diamond necklace, but it was genuine. You weren't some sugar daddy showering Leah with trinkets, you were her girlfriend, someone who understood the pure joy of a perfectly placed volley.

Suddenly, a different fear pricked at you. What if you weren't good enough to attend her party as her girlfriend, you were quite and happy to fade into the back with your small circle, Leah was a social butterfly, someone who didn't mind attention and fed off it well, were you good enough for her.

You rang out your hands shaking your head, of course, you were you had to be she wouldn't be dating you this long if she didn't think you were good enough for her, pretty enough for her, right?

"She loves me, she said so herself," you whispered to yourself as you looked at yourself in the mirror again before turning to the clock.

The pep talk you delivered yourself wasn't entirely convincing. You grabbed the frame, the crimson a little duller under the harsh light, and held it against your chest. It felt reassuringly familiar, the worn fabric whispering stories of epic matches and shared cheers.

Grabbing your phone, you scrolled through Leah's social media. Pictures of her beaming next to the girls, all perfectly styled and radiating confidence, filled the screen. Each one felt like a tiny jab of doubt. But then, tucked between selfies with the Arsenal, Lioness and Milton Keynes friends, was a picture of you two, arms linked, celebrating a goal during a recent match. Leah's smile was genuine, her eyes crinkled with laughter, focused solely on you.

"She loves you," you breathed, a mantra against the storm brewing inside.

Taking a deep breath, you messaged Leah. "On my way! Can't wait to celebrate with you." A heart emoji followed a small gesture that felt significant right now.

Arriving into the private room the music thumps loudly in your ears as you search for someone you might know, your sister or Leah preferably.

The door swung shut behind you, plunging you into a cacophony of pulsing music and excited chatter. Strobe lights cast the room in a dizzying array of colors, momentarily obscuring the faces in the crowd. The vintage jersey felt heavy against your chest, a symbol of your anxieties more than a birthday gift.

A knot formed in your stomach as you scanned the room. Faces blurred together – a sea of unfamiliar laughter and flashing smiles. Panic clawed at your throat. Where was Leah? Where was anyone you recognized?

Just as despair threatened to engulf you, a familiar figure emerged from the throng. Your sister, clad in a brightly colored dress that clashed spectacularly with the club's dim lighting, spotted you and waved enthusiastically, a beacon in the sea of strangers. Relief washed over you as you hurried towards her, the pounding music muted by the whoosh of returning confidence.

"Hey you!" Katie greeted you with a hug, her voice barely audible over the music. "There you are! I was starting to think you got lost."

"Almost did," you admitted, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. You cast a glance around the room again, searching for Leah amongst the dancing bodies. "Have you seen Leah?"

"She's over by the food table," your sister pointed towards the opposite corner of the room. "Looks like she's being swarmed by admirers." She gave you a knowing wink.

A pang of insecurity flickered within you. Images of Leah's social media feed flashed in your mind – the dazzling smiles, the effortless coolness of her friends. Would you be overshadowed by the crowd? Were you good enough for her world?

Taking a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders. You weren't here to compete. You were here for Leah, for the shared passion that transcended the glitz and the noise. With a newfound determination, you thanked your sister and weaved your way through the throng of dancing bodies, the pulsating music thrumming in your chest, a rhythm that echoed the beat of your own heart.

Katie nudged you "Come on, I've actually got a surprise for you." You looked at her brows pushed together in confusion. Surprise. What surprise ? it wasn't your birthday.

You smiled as you arrived in front of Leah, butterflies erupting as she turned to look at you her own smile seeming to grow ten times bigger, suddenly every doubt you'd had throughout the night had disappeared and was replaced by swells of butterflies lots and lots of butterflies.

Leah moved pulling you into a tight hug "I was starting to think you might never show." You shook your head "I wouldn't miss it for anything." Leah squeezed your hand looking down at the frame before looking at Katie as the Irish girl cleared her throat.

"Before Y/n gives you her present, I thought I would give you mine." Katie paused as Leah felt her heart sink, squeezing your hand to gain your attention you turned still smiling only for it to falter at the look on the older girl's face "Y/n..I...I'm so sorry." You titled your head slightly confusion written across your face as Katie began to speak again.

"I never thought you would go through with it mate, but the fact you have made Y/n fall so hard for you is impressive, what's even more impressive is the fact you've strung her along for this long., so without further a do, here the 100 pounds for holding up your end of the deal, and here's an extra 50 just for keeping it going for so long, fair play."

You flicked your head between Leah and Katie trying to figure out what was going on.

The air hung heavy with betrayal. The pulsating music seemed to mock you, a cruel soundtrack to your shattering world. Leah's hand, moments ago warm and welcoming, felt clammy and distant in yours. You fought the urge to yank it free, the familiar crimson of the jersey a burning reminder of your misplaced trust.

A million questions swirled in your mind, threatening to drown you. But all that escaped your lips was a choked whisper, "Leah?"

Her gaze wouldn't meet yours. Shame, or maybe something more sinister, flickered across her face before she mumbled an apology, its sincerity lost in the deafening silence that had descended upon the small group.

"What's going on, what is she talking about." Leah wouldn't look at you so you looked at Katie "Katie." Katie let out a laugh at the look on your face "Wow Le you really got her good, she looks so heartbroken."

The world tilted on its axis. The laughter you heard morphed into a distorted jeer, the music into a relentless cacophony. Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs, mirroring the frantic beat of a trapped bird.

Leah's silence was an accusation in itself. The warmth of her hug just moments ago felt like a cruel mirage. You clutched the jersey tighter, a shield against the icy tendrils of betrayal that snaked their way through you.

Finally, forcing your voice past the lump in your throat, you rasped, "Leah, please... tell me it's not true." You yearned for her to deny it, to laugh it off as some elaborate, misguided prank. But the hollowness in her eyes confirmed your worst fears.

Shame burned hot on your cheeks. How could you have been so blind? The self-doubt that had gnawed at you all night morphed into a monstrous realisation – you hadn't been paranoid, you'd just been too trusting.

Anger, hot and fierce, bubbled up within you. Katie's smug laughter grated on your nerves. "A bet, You were a bet." The words tumbled out, laced with laughter and a humour that surprised you.

Katie's words hung in the air, a cruel punchline to a terrible joke. A hundred pounds. A bet. You weren't Leah's girlfriend. You were a pawn in some twisted game. The vintage jersey, a symbol of shared passion moments ago, now felt heavy with the weight of a lie.

Heat flooded your cheeks, a burning tide of humiliation. You wanted to curl up into a ball, to cry to disappear from Leah, Katie, and the entire room that seemed to be closing in on you. But there was no hole to swallow you up. All you could manage was a choked laugh, a pathetic sound that echoed your shattered heart.

Leah, her face now pale, stammered something, an apology maybe, but it was lost in the roaring storm of emotions within you. You didn't need to hear it. You saw the truth reflected in her eyes – a truth far uglier than any betrayal. Pity, perhaps. Regret, at most. But no love.

“I mean come on pal hardly you actually thought that.” Katie smiled at you "Why would she choose you, for crying out loud she didn't even know who you were till you came off your loan, that's how how unseen you are."

You straighten your back, the framed jersey suddenly feeling foreign in your hands. Mustering all your strength, you meet Katie's gaze, your voice surprisingly steady. "A hundred pounds? That's all I was worth to you, Leah?"

Leah flinches, her eyes welling up. You wait for a denial, an explanation, anything. But there's nothing. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the throbbing music that seems to mock your pain.

The familiar metallic tang of blood filled your mouth as you bit down on your lip. You needed to escape. The pulsating music, the flashing lights, the throng of oblivious dancers, it all felt suffocating. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

With a strength born of desperation, you shove the frame into Leah's hands muttering a small happy birthday before pushing past her, ignoring her outstretched hand, ignoring Katie's voice calling after you. Your vision blurred with unshed tears as you weaved through the crowd, the thumping music a dull counterpoint to the storm raging inside.

Reaching the doorway, you stumbled out into the cool night air, the sudden quiet a physical blow. Gasping for breath, you leaned against the wall. What were you meant to do now.

Inside Amanda came pushing through the Arsenal girls before reaching her daughter “Where is she off to then we are about to do the cake.” Leah turned to look at her mum cheeks blotchy and tears in her eyes “Mum….i.”

The words poured out of Leah's mouth like a waterfall as she explained the horrible bet to Amanda, who began to feel nauseous at the thought of her daughter being so cruel, to you, the girl who was so scared to meet them, you who felt to unimportant to sit in the living room with them you would prefer to hold up the doorway, her daughter had just broken the heart of the most genuine kind girl she had met, in the most horrible way possible.

"I'm sorry you did what." Leah's eyes dropped to the ground unable to look at her mother's disappointed face. "I.....Leah of all the things and to Y/n.....Y/n she god Leah she was it she was your one....she's the one we all wanted the one we were all gunning for how.....how could you be so cruel and to Y/n I'm so disappointed, I actually can't even look at you." Leah turned “Mum…I.” But Amanda was gone.

The cool night air slapped you awake, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the club. Tears welled up again, blurring the neon glow of the street signs. A hundred pounds. A bet. The words echoed in your head, a relentless drumbeat drowning out everything else.

Suddenly, a hand touched your shoulder. You flinched, expecting Leah, but it was your sister, Katie, a worried frown etched on her face. "Y/n, wait!"

You glared at her, the anger a hot coal in your chest. "Don't even try it, Katie."

"Look, I know this is messed up," she began, but you cut her off.

"Messed up? That's an understatement." Your voice trembled, but you held her gaze. "How could Leah do this? How could you?"

Katie sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It was stupid, a stupid bet. I never thought she'd actually go through with it."

You scoffed. "Right, because Leah is Miss Perfect, incapable of making bad choices." The sarcasm dripped from your voice.

"She is a good person, Y/n," Katie insisted, but the conviction was lacking.

You shook your head, the betrayal cutting deep. "No, she's not. Not if she can treat someone like a pawn in some sick game."

"You're supposed to be my sister, I thought when I finally got to Arsenal you might love me as much as the others, that we could be actual sisters." Katie looked at your face full of regret "I do love you Y/n." You shook your head "No you don't, if you loved me you wouldn't have ever done this to me, you would never do this to Ella, or Lauryn would you?."

Katie reached out, but you flinched away. "Don't touch me."

Katie felt the guilt begin to eat away at her "Let me at least bring you home." You shook your head stepping away from her a single tear running down your cheek "No need I already called Mam."

Katie's eyebrows pushed together in confusion "Mam's at home." You smiled sadly at her "No she's not she flew out last night, i thought it was time she meet my girlfriend."

Katie felt nauseous as she began to realise just how far this sick joke had gone, you really fell in love.

“You really love her.” Katie said surprised, you nodded as tears began to roll down your cheeks “She is the first person that saw me, in the chaos of our lives she saw me, She wanted me for the first time in my life I was wanted, picked by someone who wasn’t my parents or my siblings because the felt bad, or so I thought turns out she’s indifferent, I’m nothing to her but 100 pounds.” Katie went to step forward again but turned at the sound of your Mam shouting. “Leave her alone right now Katie McCabe or so help me god.”

“Mam.” Your Mother shook her head “I don’t want to hear a word from you do you understand.” Katie shut her mouth nodding as she dropped her head.

You threw yourself into her arms, the dam breaking as you sobbed into her shoulder. The betrayal, the humiliation, the pain – it all came pouring out in a torrent of tears.

Your mom held you tight, her voice a soothing balm. "It's okay, love. Let it all out."

Katie watched from a distance, the weight of her guilt crushing her. The prank that started as a harmless joke had spiralled into a devastating betrayal. She had hurt you, her own sister, and she knew she might never be able to make things right.

Your mother held you for what felt like hours, whispering reassurances as you choked out sobs. The city lights blurred through the veil of your tears, each flicker reflecting a shard of your shattered heart. Finally, your cries subsided into hiccups, leaving behind a raw ache and a dull throbbing in your head.

Pulling back, your mother cupped your tear-streaked face, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "Why they did this, sweetheart, is because they're cruel and shallow. But their actions don't define your worth. You, Y/n, are strong, kind, and deserving of real love. Don't you ever forget that."

Her words, laced with love and unwavering belief, were a soothing balm to your wounded spirit. You leaned into her touch, finding solace in the familiar warmth. Taking a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes. "I just...don't understand. Why would Leah do this?"

Your mother sighed, a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes. "Sometimes, people make terrible choices, honey. But Leah will have to live with the consequences of her actions, just like Katie."

You head straight for your room when you get home, ignoring the buzzing of your phone you mutter a quick goodnight to your Mam before shutting your door and crawling under the covers, before beginning to cry again.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless. You should've known. The self-doubt that had gnawed at you all night wasn't paranoia, it was your intuition screaming unheard. A hundred pounds. A bet. You weren't Leah's girlfriend, you were a punchline in a cruel joke.

Anger, hot and fierce, flared within you, momentarily pushing back the tide of sadness. You grabbed your phone, the need to confront Leah burning in your gut. But what was there to say? The silence at the club spoke volumes.

Your thumb hovered over Leah's name, then hovered some more. Finally, with a deep breath, you deleted her contact. A small act of defiance in a night that felt like a complete and utter defeat.

Exhaustion settled over you like a heavy blanket. You curled into a ball, the hollowness in your chest a constant ache. Sleep, when it came, was a restless affair, filled with fragmented memories of flashing lights, pulsating music, and Leah's cold, emotionless eyes.

You awake the next morning to your Mam at your bedroom door saying there was a woman at the door who wanted to talk to you.

You let out a huff tearing off the covers before heading to the kitchen. You stop dead at the sight of Amanda sitting in your kitchen having a cough before your bottom lip starts to wobble.

Amanda jumps up from her seat before wrapping her arms tightly around you "Oh darling I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." You shake your head "I'm sorry too Amanda, I'm so sorry I wasn't good enough for her."

Amanda pulls back, cupping your face gently. "Sweetheart, you are more than good enough. Leah's actions are a reflection of her own shallowness, not your worth. You have a kind heart, a brilliant mind, and a passion that shines brighter than any trophy."

Her words sink in, a flicker of warmth battling the lingering chill of betrayal. You nod, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks,Amanda."

"Can I get you some tea, love?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

You nod gratefully, sinking into a chair at the table. As Amanda bustles around the kitchen, you steal a glance at the woman who, until yesterday, was your girlfriend's mother. The sight of her fills you with a mix of emotions – anger, sadness, and a flicker of curiosity.

Amanda returns, placing a steaming mug in front of you. You mutter out a small thank you before clearing your throat "How is she?." Amanda's face softens "Y/n we don't have to..." You shake your head "Please."

She hesitates, her brow furrowed. "She's a mess, to be honest. She told me everything last night, and I was… well, let's just say I'm not happy with her. Not one bit."

Relief washes over you, a small comfort amidst the wreckage of your heart. "What did she say?"

Amanda takes a sip of her tea, her gaze distant. "She said it was a stupid bet, that she never meant to hurt you. But frankly, intentions don't matter much when the result is this much pain."

"A hundred pounds. That's all I was worth to her?" Your words come out in a chocked sob.

Amanda reaches across the table, squeezing your hand. "Honey, you are priceless. Don't you ever let anyone tell you differently.

Later that day, your phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. You open it cautiously, your breath catching in your throat when you see the name: Leah.

The messages are all the same, short and to the point: "Y/n, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

You stare at the screen, a war raging within you. Part of you wants to unleash a torrent of anger, to make her understand the depth of your pain. But another part, a smaller, wounded part, aches for her.

The next few days are a blur. Ignoring your teammates who all seemed to know about the bet, you couldn't help but question if they had been part of it too in opening up and getting to know you, including you in things. Your mam becomes your rock, offering endless cups of tea, movie marathons, and fiercely supportive silences.

You're asleep on the couch when you begin to hear shouting, you sit up rubbing your eyes before going to stand before moving more quickly as you here your Mam let out a shout for someone to leave

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you bolted towards the front door. The shouting was unmistakeable - your Mum's voice laced with anger, and another, muffled voice pleading its case. Bursting into the hallway, you skidded to a stop, taking in the scene before you.

There, on the doorstep, stood Leah. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her hair a mess, a stark contrast to the composed figure she usually presented. Your Mam, arms crossed and face thunderous, stood blocking the doorway. Amanda stood behind Leah tugging on her arm trying to get her out of your driveway.

"Absolutely not, Leah!" your Mam boomed, her voice echoing in the small hallway. "You had your chance, and you blew it in the most horrendous way."

Leah flinched, tears welling up in her eyes again. "I know, Mrs. McCabe, I know. I was awful, and I deeply regret it. But please, just let me talk to Y/n. I need to apologise properly."

Leah's words die in her throat at the sight of you standing behind your Mam so small, so sad, so broken "Y/n" Your Mam turns immediately and Amanda's hands seem to grip Leah's arm tighter as she goes to step into your house.

You step back as Leah steps forward again "You haven't answered any of my texts...I..." You can't help but laugh internally at Leah's lack of words, but it also feels even more crushing than the night of her birthday party, that's all she can say, that you haven't answered her texts.

The cynical part of you snorts. You clench your fists, the anger threatening to bubble over. But before you can unleash it, your Mam speaks, her voice firm but laced with a hint of sadness.

"Leah, honey, I understand you're sorry. But actions speak louder than words, and yours spoke volumes. Y/n needs time to heal. She trusted you, and you betrayed that trust in a cruel way."

Leah hangs her head, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know, Mrs. McCabe. I was an idiot. A terrible person. But please, believe me when I say I never meant to hurt Y/n like this. It started as a stupid bet...a dare, really. But it spiraled, and I…"

"And you let it go on," your Mam finishes, her voice colder now. "You let it go on for who knows how long, playing with Y/n's affections. That's not a mistake, Leah. That's a conscious choice."

The truth hangs heavy in the air, a suffocating weight. Leah opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. You see a flicker of something in her eyes – regret, maybe, or perhaps just a glimpse of the pain you're feeling mirrored back at you.

Amanda looks at you sadly as she tugs Leah's arm "Come on Le." Leah pulled her arm out of her mum's grip "I love you." You felt your heart sink as your eyes welled up with more tears, shaking your head you stepped out from behind your own mam, "No you don't." Leah shook her head "I do." you stepped forward this time within arm's length.

Leah doesn't hesitate to step closer before putting her hands on your waist and pulling you in, you don't fit it, you can't this is all you've wanted since her birthday so you sink into you wrap your arms around her as she rests her head on your shoulder.

Your voice, laced with a quiet strength that surprised even yourself, cut through the tension. "Love isn't a word you throw around after breaking someone's heart, Leah. Love is about respect, about trust, about building something real together. You built a house of cards on lies, and now you're surprised it crumbled?"

Tears streamed down Leah's face, her voice trembling. "Y/n, please. I know I messed up. I was stupid, and I let pride get the better of me. But the time we spent together, the way you made me laugh, the way you understood my passion for the game... that was real. I never meant for it to go this far."

You scoffed, a humorless sound. "Convenient, isn't it? To pick and choose what parts were real and what were just a game. Because let's be honest, Leah, that's all I ever was to you, wasn't I? A pawn in your little bet."

Leah flinched, but you pressed on, your voice gaining momentum. "Maybe you never meant to 'hurt' me, but you did. You shattered my trust, made me question everything I thought we had. And for what? A hundred pounds and a cheap thrill?"

Silence descended once more, heavy and suffocating. You pulled back seeing the flicker of shame in Leah's eyes, but it did little to ease the ache in your heart.

Leah's lips trembled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I... I care about you, Y/n. I really do."

"Care isn't enough, Leah," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging within. "You had a chance at something real, something special. You threw it away for a hundred pounds and a cheap laugh. How can I ever trust you again?"

Leah opened her mouth to protest, but your mother's hand on her shoulder silenced her. Amanda gave you a sympathetic smile before ushering a defeated Leah towards the car. As they drove away, you retreated back into the house, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily upon you.

You stood there for a long time, the weight of the encounter settling on you. The betrayal still stung, before you could turn to your mam and begin to cry into her shoulder once more you felt another hand on your shoulder turning, you didn't hesitate before throwing yourself into Mary's arms.

The tears came again, a torrent of hurt and confusion released into Mary's embrace. Mary held you tight, whispering soothing words that did little to penetrate the fog of pain.

"It's okay to cry, love," she murmured. "Let it all out."

You clung to her, the familiar scent of her lavender shampoo grounding you amidst the emotional chaos. The image of Leah's tearful face lingered, her declaration of love a discordant note in the symphony of your heartbreak.

Pulling back slightly, you wiped your glistening cheeks. "Do you think she really cares?"

Mary sighed, a deep breath that spoke volumes. "Honey, sometimes people say things in the heat of the moment, especially when they're trying to win someone back. True remorse takes time and action, not just empty words."

Her words were a balm, a dose of reality amidst the swirling emotions. You hadn't expected Leah's sudden appearance, nor the raw vulnerability she displayed. Part of you ached for the connection you thought you shared, the spark you felt whenever you were together. But the other, more sensible part, echoed your mother's sentiment. Actions spoke louder than words, and Leah's actions had spoken volumes.

You don't return to Arsenal, instead, you attend a meeting with your agent, Jonas and the board at Arsenal, you inform them of your wishes to be transferred this summer and when asked why you tell them everything, from the unwelcoming atmosphere your teammates have had from the start to a stupid bet that destroyed two relationships you really thought you had made since joining.

The air in the sterile conference room was thick with tension. Jonas, your agent, sat beside you, his jaw clenched tight. Across the table, the Arsenal board – a group of stern-faced men in expensive suits – listened intently to your story. You spoke with a quiet strength, your voice betraying a tremor of lingering hurt as you recounted the events of the past week.

From the initial awkwardness with your teammates to the cruel betrayal orchestrated by Leah and Katie, you held back nothing. You even explained how the constant feeling of being an outsider, someone tolerated but not truly welcomed, had chipped away at your confidence.

When you finished, a heavy silence descended upon the room. One of the board members, a man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally broke it. "This is a serious allegation, Ms. L/N. Do you have any proof of this 'bet' you speak of?"

You shook your head. "No, sir. It was a private conversation. But the way Leah and Katie acted, the way they looked at me… it all adds up."

Another board member, a woman with a sharp bob and piercing blue eyes, leaned forward. "And you believe this… bet… is the reason behind the strained relationship with your teammates?"

"It could be a part of it," you admitted. "Maybe they knew, maybe they didn't. But the overall feeling was… unwelcome."

Jonas cleared his throat. "Look, Ms. L/N has a very successful record on the pitch. But a player also needs to feel comfortable off it. This situation clearly isn't working for her."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the board members. The man with the beard steepled his fingers. "We understand your concerns, Ms. L/N and Mr. Hernandez. However, a transfer is a significant decision. We need to explore all options."

The next few minutes were a blur of discussions – potential solutions, alternative clubs, and the financial implications of a transfer. Finally, the woman with the bob spoke up.

"Here's what we can do. We'll launch a discreet investigation into these allegations. If your claims are substantiated, we'll take appropriate disciplinary action against those involved. Additionally, we'll work with the coaching staff to ensure a more inclusive environment for all players."

You exchanged a surprised glance with Jonas. This was more than you expected.

"As for the transfer," she continued, "we understand your desire for a fresh start. We're willing to consider loan offers from reputable clubs, provided they meet our financial requirements."

Relief washed over you. A loan deal wouldn't be ideal, but it would give you a chance to escape the toxic environment at Arsenal and prove yourself elsewhere. You looked at Jonas, silently seeking his advice.

He gave you a quick nod. "That sounds like a fair compromise."

A tense negotiation ensued, with Jonas expertly navigating the complexities of transfer fees and loan agreements. Finally, a deal was struck. You would be loaned to a top-tier Spanish club for the upcoming season, with an option to buy included in the contract.

As you shook hands with the board members, a sense of closure washed over you. This wasn't the fairytale ending you'd envisioned when you signed for Arsenal, but it was a new chapter. A chance to rewrite your story, a chance to rise above the betrayal and prove your worth on the world stage.

You disappear after the meeting, your house is empty you aren't in London or in Dublin, turning down the opportunity to play for Ireland, instead you hide out in Manchester at Mary's, attending solo training as well as Mary's solo training, you don't answer your phone to anyone on the Arsenal squad, Ireland squad, Katie or Leah's no collar id.

When the transfer/loan list is made public your phone blows up once again, you don't answer it until Katie's name flashes up on your screen, you hadn't spoken in weeks but you also knew this was important.

"You're leaving, you're leaving Arsenal, you're leaving." you sigh heading out to sit on the back step "I am." Katie stops for a second before you hear her voice crack "Y/n, I never wanted this, I never wanted you to leave." You shake your head "What did you think was going to happen, that I was going to sit back once again, I've been hurt enough, I have done everything for everyone even if it hurt me and this time I decided not to, I need to stop putting everyone else happiness, their comfortability over my own, I'm done."

There's a small pause before Katie speaks again "Y/n...I never meant for this to happen the way it did, you have to know that." You brush your hands through your hair "I don't, I didn't I'll say the same thing i told you the night of Leah's birthday, you wouldn't do what you did to me to Ella or Lauryn, or any of our other siblings, so I still don't know what I must have done for you to do it to me, what I must have done for you to hate me so much that you thought this would be funny." Katie tried again "Y/n." your bottom lip quivered "I'm tired Katie, so so tired of feeling like this, I don't want to feel like this anymore, I want to be happy, can you just let me go on this loan and let me be happy?" Katie could hear the hurt in your voice and she thought back to every time you finally spoke up and yet still pushed aside for something else, someone else. "Ok." you nod "Where are you going to go." you wiped your tears off your cheek. "I don't know yet, I just need to get out of England." Katie let out a small Oh "You're leaving the league." You smiled softly "If I'm going to give myself the best chance, I need to."

"I'm proud of ya." you laugh slightly "For what." Katie stops "I...I..." You smile softly wiping the stray tear "It's ok, I think I've finally made my peace with that, with this."

Shame burned in Katie's gut. She thought the prank would be harmless, a way to lighten the mood, had backfired spectacularly. You weren't Ella or Lauryn, or any of her other siblings, the ones who could shrug things off. You were Y/n, the quiet observer, the one who carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Seeing your vulnerability, the raw pain in your voice as you spoke of wanting happiness, chipped away at the last vestiges of Katie's justification. The truth, stark and ugly, stared back at her. It hadn't been a prank, it had been a cruel act fueled by a childish need to be funny, a way to lash out at the feeling of you constantly wanting to follow her around, do everything she wanted to do, now she realised you did it for comfort, you idolised her so much you wanted to do everything she did like Lauryn had done, so why had it irked her so much that you did the same.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the ragged sniffles escaping your nose. "I need you to do me a favour, you at least owe me that." Katie nodded franticly before nearly bursting your eardrum accepting "Anything." You wipe your cheeks again cursing internally at how emotional you were.

"When I leave, Leah can't know until I'm gone, she...she can't know until then 'cause I'm not ready to talk to her, please Katie promise me this." Katie agrees, You are right it is the least she can do. "I promise, just go smash it yeah." You let out a small laugh "I'll try."

Arsenal's Y/n McCabe joins FC Bayern Munich.

Blocked left 15 voice messages

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

Text

Pastry

Boyf Oscar moments

1.3K

I need moots

"Oscar Pastry!" She sang as she skipped towards the McLaren garage.

The Australian in question glared at her, but it was a good thing his glare made him look like an angry puppy.

"That's not my name," he said as she came closer.

Y/N thought for a minute. "No, no. I think it is," she answered and looked around the garage for his teammate. "Lando! This is Oscar Pastry, right?"

"Definitely Oscar Pastry!" Lando shouted back.

"That's settles it then, Oscar Pastry."

Oscar may have been glaring, but he skill kissed her. "Wish me luck today," he said, placing his hands on her hips while Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good luck, Pastry," she whispered and placed her head against his chest.

Oscar kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms more securely around her.

Pastry, because that was what Y/N thought his name was when they'd first met. She'd soon learnt it was Piastri, but by then it was too late and the name had stuck. Even before they were dating, she still called him Oscar Pastry.

It was his name in her phone when they were innocently flirting over text. When the flirting was no longer innocent, his name was still Oscar Pastry.

When Oscar had asked Y/N to be his, she'd answered with "Of course, Oscar Pastry."

Now, a year on from that everything was different. Oscar was no longer in F2 and a lot more of his life was in the limelight. But he was still Y/Ns Oscar Pastry.

***

2023 was Oscars rookie season. But he was amazing. Y/N always came away from each race filled with pride. Oscar could have DNFed or finished each race last and she still would have been filled with pride.

"Pastry!" Y/N shouted as he got out of the car. He wasted no time in taking her into his arms and spinning her around. His helmet was still on his head, so Y/N had no choice but to kiss it, to kiss where his mouth should have been.

He let her go, pulled off his helmet and gave her a real kiss. One that had the lads in the McLaren garage clapping their hands and turning away to give them a little bit of privacy.

After that Oscar was off to do what he needed to do after the race. Y/N waited for him in his driver's room. She played on her phone, scrolling through social media to see pictures of the race already up on her Instagram.

The Oscar fans were her favourite. There were some familiar faces on her feed, fans that had been there since his F2 days and had moved up into F1 with them.

There were several pictures of Oscars McLaren driving around the track. There were quick videos of him overtaking other drivers and pictures of his jumping out of his car.

And then Y/N got to the F1 news sites. Ever since Oscars F1 debut, the news sites run by the male F1 fans had been overly critical of her specifically. So, Y/N tended to avoid them. She stuck to the accounts that loved her and Oscar together, the accounts that didn't tear her down just because she was with Oscar.

The wag accounts had posted updates from the race, the most recent of which being the picture of her kissing Oscars helmet. And then it was the pictures of her actually kissing Oscar. Him all sweaty and disheveled from the race, her radiating pure joy.

***

Y/N couldn't go to every race. As much as she tried, she couldn't make it to every single one. She had work and school to attend.

So, when she couldn't make it to a race, Oscar was very understanding. They called and texted as much as they possibly could. Even if she had to watch the race through her tv screen, she still watched the race.

Studying and working was a tiring business. Sunday evening, after the race, Y/N was exhausted. With preparing to write her thesis, she only managed to half watch the race. It was mainly her listening out for Oscars name and number as she typed away at her laptop.

Oscar was due home that night. To the some they shared.

Y/N tried her very best to stay awake as she waited for him, she really did. Maybe her first mistake was climbing into bed. Maybe her first mistake was getting under the blankets and letting the warmth cocoon her.

The same thing probably would have happened if she had stayed sitting on the couch. At least in her bed she was comfortable and unlikely to hurt her back like she would on the couch.

When Oscar got in, the lights and the television were still on. It was kind of worrying, actually, seeing all the lights on and no sign of his girlfriend. "Y/N?" He called, looking around into their kitchen. "Y/N?"

Oscar went around, checking every single room. And then he got to their bedroom.

Slowly, Oscar pushed open the door. It didn't stop the door from squeaking as he opened it. He put his head around the door and looked in.

There she was, sleeping peacefully in their bed. In way of pyjamas she had on an orange McLaren hoodie.

Oscar tried his best to be quiet. He tried to move around the room silently, tried to be light-footed, but he wasn't doing a very good job. Every time the floorboards creaked under his feet, he turned back to his girlfriend, to make sure she was still asleep.

As Oscar got dressed, Y/N stirred. She rolled towards him, her eyes fluttering open. "Pastry?" She called, her voice croaking.

Suddenly she was sat up, rolling out of bed and stumbling towards him. "Oh my god, Pastry. You're back," she said and wrapped her arms around him.

Oscar had to hold her steady as they hugged. "I missed you too, baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. He walked her back over to the bed and sat her down.

"Love you, Oscar Pastry," she whispered and promptly went back to sleep, wrapped in his embrace.

***

"This is paradise," said Y/N as she stretched out on her sun lounger. The sun was shining, palm trees providing the only shade for miles.

The pool in front of her was crystal clear. In said pool was her boyfriend, swimming from one side to the other with an inflatable dolphin. Y/N watched him through her sunglasses, a McLaren hat on her head.

Summer break was something Y/N took very seriously. Her studies were finally done and Oscar was finally on summer break from the season.

Of course, Oscar had to take his girl on holiday. They flew to the Caribbean, to a private villa they'd rented for the next week and a half. From there it was sun, sand, blue skies and crystal clear water.

Getting out of the pool, Oscar threw himself down onto the sunbed beside Y/N. "Happy?" He asked, reaching out and placing his hand on her knee.

His fingers were cold, but it was welcome under the Caribbean sun. Y/N placed her hand on top of his and nodded her head. "This is amazing, Oscar Pastry," she said, turning towards him.

Oscar had this way of smiling. It made Y/N's heart beat fast and the blood rush to her cheeks. "I love you," she said, reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. "My Oscar Pastry."

"Your Oscar Pastry."

The trip was commemorated with a post on Y/N's Instagram.

y/nusername:

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiatri and 238,557 others

ynusername Oscar 🥐

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1

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mapiforpresident · 21 days ago

Note

I’m here DONT FEAR. That’s was so cringy oml but here is a Mapi x Ingrid x reader req. so after the championship Mapi and Ingrid run to the barriers to help reader get over them and they start hugging and kissing (they are public) and it’s just very cute and soft. ‘Maybe some smutty talk with them saying how hot you look in your jean shorts or Jersey👀’

Time to Celebrate

Mapi x reader x Ingrid

warnings: drinking, alcohol

~~~

The stadium was filled with energy, and the crowd was deafening as the final whistle blew. You leaned forward in your seat, disbelief washing over you as Barcelona celebrated their third Champions League title. From the stands, you watched Mapi embrace Alexia while Ingrid hugged Frido, pure joy radiating from both of their faces.

They were both grinning from ear to ear, their jerseys clinging to their bodies, drenched in sweat. They had played the entire match, and the exhaustion showed in their tired smiles, but you’d never seen them happier. The pride swelling within you was overwhelming as you watched them receive their medals, and then taking turns lifting the trophy. It felt surreal, yet utterly deserved.

Your life as a lawyer often kept you tied up with meetings, court dates, and endless paperwork, leaving little room to witness your girlfriends’ games in person. But being here today, watching them celebrate, made every late night in the office worthwhile.

As Mapi and Ingrid made their way toward the barriers after the trophy ceremony, you stood up, waving enthusiastically. They spotted you, and they began sprinting toward the edge of the stands.

“Y/N!” Mapi shouted, her voice cutting through the crowd.

Ingrid climbed over the barrier with ease, her eyes shining with adrenaline. “Did you see Mapi's tackle? It was insane!”

You nodded, leaning in to kiss her. “You were both incredible! I’m so proud of you!”

Ingrid helped you back over the barrier, and the moment you landed, Mapi wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, nearly knocking the breath out of you. “Thanks for being here! It means so much to us,” she said, her voice muffled against your shoulder.

Ingrid joined in, pulling both of you into an embrace. “I couldn’t imagine celebrating without you,” she added, squeezing you tighter.

“Your jersey we had made for you looks so good,” Mapi whispered, her breath warm against your ear. “I don’t think I will ever get over seeing my name and Ingrid’s number on your back.” Your cheeks heated up at her words, a mix of pride and embarrassment flooding through you.

Before you could respond, Ingrid yelled over the noise of the stadium, “Let’s go take photos with the trophy!” She broke away, you and Mapi following behind her.

You all made your way across the field, weaving through players celebrating with their families. You reached Ona and Lucy, hugging them both and saying congratulations as they handed the trophy over to Ingrid, who held it like it was the most precious treasure in the world.

“Look at this beauty!” Ingrid beamed as Mapi leaned in to kiss it a couple times.

The three of you gathered close for pictures, the trophy proudly displayed in front of you. You felt grateful to be part of this moment, a feeling that only deepened as Mapi slipped her hand into yours, squeezing it gently.

~~~

After the celebrations on the field, you rode with Mapi and Ingrid's families to the after-party at the hotel where the players were staying. You were sad that you had to part with your girls for a while as they went back to the locker room, where you knew they were continuing their celebration with some drinks and then they would take the team bus and meet back up with you at the hotel a little later.

Once inside the hotel you mingled with all the players families for a while before you and Olga, Alexia's girlfriend, found a quiet corner to sit in and wait for your girlfriends.

You and Olga chatted about the game, and how proud you were of your girlfriends. After a while, your anticipation grew, knowing that Mapi and Ingrid would soon join you.

Soon after the players arrived and Mapi and Ingrid came straight over to you. “Did you miss us?” Ingrid teased, her breath warm against your ear.

“Of course! I can’t wait to celebrate with you both,” you replied, pulling back to give her a quick kiss before turning and giving Mapi a kiss before she started pouting.

“Drinks! We need drinks!” Mapi declared, leading you both to the bar. Mapi was started ordering shots, and you couldn’t help but laugh as she tried to get Alexia to take one with her ultimately failing. Pina instead took the shot right out of Mapi's hand downing it before Mapi could snatch it back.

The night continued with drinks flowing freely as the three of you danced together, surrounded by the joyful chaos of teammates celebrating their victory. Mapi was a clingy, affectionate drunk, wrapping her arms around you and Ingrid and showering you both with compliments.

“You two are the best!” she exclaimed, swaying slightly. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Seriously, Y/N, you’re like my lucky charm!”

As the hours passed, players and families started to trickle out. While Mapi continued to drink and dance with Pina and Patri, Ingrid’s eyelids grew heavier. You watched as she leaned against the wall, trying to keep her focus.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked, concern in your voice.

“I’m just... so tired,” she admitted, stifling a yawn. “It’s been a long day.”

“Maybe we should call it a night?” you suggested, glancing at Mapi, who was busy doing another shot with Cata.

Ingrid nodded, but as you moved to grab Mapi, she squealed, throwing her arms around you both. “No, no! We have to keep celebrating!”

“Mapi, it’s 4 AM!” you laughed, gently pushing her away. “We need to get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

She pouted but eventually relented, her eyelids fluttering as she leaned on you for support. You and Ingrid exchanged knowing glances, and with a little coaxing, you managed to get Mapi to follow you both back to the hotel room.

Once inside, you helped Mapi out of her jersey and into a comfortable oversized t-shirt of yours, chuckling at how she kept insisting on “more hugs and kisses” as you did. You turned to Ingrid, who was stifling a yawn, and helped her into her pajamas as well.

“Alright, you two sleepyheads,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Mapi’s face. “Time for bed.”

You settled onto the bed, pulling the covers over all of you. Mapi and Ingrid nestled close as possible, their heads resting on your chest. You kissed each of their foreheads gently, feeling a wave of affection wash over you as they both sighed contentedly, their breathing slowly evening out.

As you drifted into sleep, you couldn’t help but smile at how lucky you felt to share this moment with them.

~~~

Morning light streamed through the hotel window, piercing through your dreams as you began to stir. You blinked against the brightness, glancing down to see both Mapi sprawled out and hair everywhere and Ingrid looking adorable curled into you.

“Morning, sleepyheads,” you said softly, gently shaking them.

Ingrid groaned, rolling over, her face scrunching up as she tried to shield her eyes from the light. “Ugh, what time is it?”

“Time to wake up and face the world,” you teased, but as you took a good look at Mapi, you felt a surge of sympathy. Her hair was tousled, and she looked a bit pale.

“Feeling okay?” you asked, running a hand through her hair.

“Not really,” she admitted, her voice thick with sleep. “What happened last night?”

“You celebrated a Champions League title, that’s what!” you laughed lightly, but then you quickly got up to grab some Advil from your bag and two bottles of water you had set out last night.

“Here,” you said, handing them both the pills. “This should help.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Ingrid murmured, a sleepy smile creeping onto her face. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” you replied with a grin. “Now, get ready. You both have to meet back up with the team soon.”

When they were both ready, looking a little more put together but still a bit groggy, Mapi stepped closer, a smile breaking through. “Before we leave, I need to give you something,” she said, her voice slightly raspy.

Before you could respond, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours for a soft kiss. You leaned into the kiss and savored it before resting your forehead against hers and kissing her cheek.

“We wish you could come back to Barcelona with us,” Ingrid said with a slight pout.

“Me too but I will wave to you at the celebration and then we have all weekend together,” you replied.

With one last hug, they made their way to the door. You were so proud of them and were so excited to see them in a couple hours, hopefully a little less hungover.

~~~

let me know if there are any mistakes, I didn't proof read it.

#woso x reader #fcb femení x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon imagine #woso #fcb femení #mapi leon #fc barcelona femeni #ingrid engen

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colorlessjayblog · 15 days ago

Text

Here's a Destiel prompt based on a doodle I did but also Chappell Roan:

Dean Winchester is your average picture perfect American boy. Tall, blonde, football team quarterback, Kansas sweetheart with a little brother he's way too over protective of, and a southern drawl he swears he doesn't exaggerate. He's brash and rude, his confidence making him an easy target for over excited crowds and the occasion fights. The girls at school want him when he gives them a wink and a smile, and most guys envy him. Wish they were him.

But Dean had his eyes set on the unattainable

Castiel Novak. the Student body vice president who seems to fly through school like he was above it all. But not in the obnoxious 'I'm better than you' way in most teen movies. No, Castiel radiates an energy. One of pure intent, kindness, and joy that makes people fall for his hypnotic blue eyes

People like Dean, Castiel's best friend, and the guy he confides in more often than not

And Dean hates that he does. Because Castiel,for all his intelligence, was as clueless as they come

So whenever Castiel asks him to wingman for him

It's months worth of heartache and fake smiles as he watches Castiel pull every trick Dean taught him

Because Dean Winchester? He's the practice boy

-----

Castiel, wanting to the full college experience, asks his best friend Dean to help on how to date/seduce girls (Since Dean is really good at it and has been in relationships before. But only to distract from his massive crush on Cas)

And Dean, being a good friend, walks Cas through every step regardless of how much it hurts to flirt with Cas, only for Cas to use those same words and actions on girls

And one day, Cas asks Dean how to kiss. If he'll be a good kisser. Castiel's self conscious about it. Self deprecating and confused cause his lips are always chapped and his hair always a mess. And he's scared he won't close his eyes

And Dean just goes on about how those can be good things. How they're attractive. Blurting out stuff he personally feels about kissing Cas

"Your hair's perfect for kissing, short and soft and perfect to hold"

"If she doesn't like your eyes when you kiss, then she's blind as a bat!"

"Your lips look chapped but I'll bet my Baby they're as soft as the look you get when you see a bee"

"hell! Given the chance, I'd kiss you and I'd be the one left breathless"

And of course, they practice kissing

And Dean was right. It leaves him breathless

Leaves him heartbroken too when he finds Cas kissing Meg the same way a week later

-------

"I can't take it anymore, Cas! I'm so fucking tired of being your goddamn practice dummy!" Dean turns around, finally facing Castiel after he storming off "Yeah, I asked for it. It was fucking stupid to even suggest it, but you can't be so goddamn blind to not see that everything I've said, everything I've taught you, was more then just a shitty flirting lesson to me!"

Castiel stops in his chase, staring at Dean wide eyed as the rain picks up

Dean powers on, pacing and flailing "Fuck me for thinking the way you kissed me meant something then just practice" he laughs humorlessly then lets out a sob

"Fuck, Cas…" Dean looks up. his hand coming down to clutch at his wet shirt. Tears and rain running down his face "It meant something to me… you saying it otherwise doesn't change that… it just makes it hurt"

Castiel stared wide eyed and frozen. His mind flashes back to every interaction, every little touch, every word said between them

And all he could muster up was

"Dean…"

#destiel #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #spn fanart #castiel fanart #writing prompt #fic prompt

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tinytinyblogs · 11 months ago

Text

Is that me on your lockscreen?

They caught you putting their pic on your lock screen.

Stray kids masterlist here

Chan

Chan discovered this when you accompanied him while he was immersed in his thoughts. As you headed to the restroom, his eyes landed on your phone lying on the table. It would have been insignificant, but then you received a notification, and he caught a glimpse of his photo on your lockscreen. Whatever had been occupying his thoughts at the time instantly faded away, replaced by a broad, gleeful grin. He felt as if he were floating, his heart overflowing with the knowledge that you reciprocated his deep love and affection. He could see it plainly in your eyes. In that moment, he realized that he was not merely attracted to you; he had become a simp for you, his heart completely captivated by your charms. Despite the interruption to his work, Chan's annoyance dissolved into pure joy upon seeing your phone. His mind, initially focused on the task at hand, was now consumed by the image of his own face adorning your lockscreen.

The realization that you held him in such high regard sent a jolt of euphoria through his veins, causing him to grin uncontrollably. As you returned to the room, his smile remained, radiating an infectious warmth that enveloped you. Without a word, he pulled you into a comforting embrace, his eyes drawn to your phone once again. While you were engrossed in the digital world, he silently observed your every move, his heart overflowing with gratitude for your love. When his gaze met your lockscreen for the second time, he couldn't contain his emotions any longer. A torrent of sweet words cascaded from his lips, expressing his profound love and admiration for you. His voice, laced with tenderness and affection, echoed through the room, creating a symphony of love that resonated with your soul. "My brain might be short-circuiting from all the love you give me, hence the idiotic smile. Don't judge."

Minho

Minho, known for his casual and often unannounced phone borrowings, once again had your phone in his possession. With a nonchalant tap on the screen, his eyes fell upon his own image gracing your lockscreen. It was a photograph captured without his knowledge, yet there he was, frozen in a candid moment that radiated an undeniable charm. A wave of inexplicable happiness washed over Minho, momentarily silencing his teasing nature. His mind, usually sharp and quick-witted, seemed to stumble, unable to formulate the playful jabs he had initially intended. Instead, he found himself lost in the depths of your affection, the simple act of using your phone revealing a level of intimacy that sent his heart aflutter. The unexpected discovery of his own image on your lockscreen was like a gentle caress to his soul, awakening a blossoming flower within him.

It was a testament to your unspoken affection, a silent declaration of love that resonated with his own burgeoning emotions. Minho, unable to contain his excitement any longer, rushed towards you, pulling you into a warm embrace. As he held you close, he confessed his desire for your affection, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. His heart, brimming with love for you, overflowed with the urge to shower you with his adoration. Later, when the opportunity arose, Minho couldn't resist the urge to tease you about his newfound simp status. With a playful grin, he revealed that he had secretly changed his own lockscreen to a picture of you. It was a subtle yet powerful gesture, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. "I just know you can't resist my charming presence for even a single second."

Changbin

Changbin, with a heart brimming with pride and affection, decided to take matters into his own hands. He stealthily replaced his lockscreen with a picture of you, a radiant smile illuminating the screen. As he held his phone, his eyes gleamed with a newfound confidence, eager to unveil his precious treasure to the world. With a triumphant grin, he presented his phone to you, his chest puffing out like a proud peacock. "Look!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with childlike excitement. "I changed my lockscreen to you!" Later, as you and Changbin sat together, you absentmindedly reached for your phone, requesting him to pass it to you. As he handed it over, his eyes accidentally fell upon the lockscreen, revealing the image of his own smiling face. For a moment, Changbin was caught off guard, his large frame momentarily frozen in surprise.

Then, a grin slowly spread across his face, his eyes twinkling with delight. "You have me as your lockscreen too?" he chuckled, his voice filled with disbelief and amusement. Changbin, with his characteristic loud and boisterous personality, couldn't contain his excitement any longer. He proudly proclaimed that you two were a couple made in heaven, destined to be together forever. His voice boomed through the room, echoing his unwavering belief in your bond. Even among his friends, Changbin couldn't resist bragging about his newfound love. He regaled them with tales of your shared experiences, painting vivid pictures of your shared laughter, your deep connection, and the unbreakable bond that united you. Changbin found himself checking his phone more and more frequently, not just for notifications or calls, but simply to gaze at your image. It was a constant reminder of your presence, a soothing balm to his soul.

Han

Han, with his gentle heart and quiet demeanor, found himself caught in an unexpected whirlwind of emotions as you wordlessly handed him your phone. He was never one to crave attention, preferring to blend into the background, yet the moment his eyes fell upon his own image gracing your lockscreen, he felt a wave of shyness wash over him. His cheeks flushed a rosy hue, a stark contrast to his usual paleness. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings, its rhythm echoing the depth of his affection for you. The sight of himself on your lockscreen, a testament to your unspoken love, sent a jolt of happiness through his veins. In that crowded moment, amidst the hustle and bustle of the outside world, Han felt a sense of vulnerability that he had never experienced before. His mind, usually calm and collected, seemed to malfunction, unable to process the surge of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes, usually calm and serene, sparkled with happiness, reflecting the depth of his feelings for you.

In that moment, Han was no longer just a simp; he was a man deeply in love. After sharing that tender moment, Han couldn't resist the urge to capture your beauty on his phone. He meticulously scrolled through his gallery, searching for the perfect image to represent your essence. Each photograph held a cherished memory, a moment frozen in time that he would forever treasure. As he searched, Han found himself torn between countless options. Each picture captured a different facet of your beauty, from your radiant smile to your captivating eyes. He wanted to choose an image that not only reflected your physical beauty but also embodied the warmth and kindness that radiated from within. Finally, after much deliberation, Han settled on a picture that captured your essence perfectly. It was a candid shot, taken in a moment of genuine joy. Your smile, as bright as the sun, illuminated the image, while your eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "Warning: Extreme levels of happiness detected! You've successfully infiltrated my entire life, even my phone screen."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin, with a heart brimming with love and admiration, approached you with a gentle smile, eager to share a thought that had been lingering in his mind. As he neared, he noticed your phone lying face up on the table, its screen illuminated by a soft glow. Curiosity piqued, he leaned in to take a closer look, only to be met with a sight that melted his heart and sent a jolt of joy through his veins. There, on your phone screen, was an image of him, captured in the midst of his artistic passion. His brush poised delicately in mid-air, his face aglow with concentration and creativity. But that wasn't all that caught Hyunjin's attention. As he looked around, he realized that his art was not just adorning your lockscreen but also gracing the homescreen. His paintings, each infused with his unique style and emotions, had become an integral part of your living space, adding a touch of vibrancy and personality to your surroundings.

Hyunjin, with his heart overflowing with love and affection, found himself glued to your side, an ever-present companion as you went about your day. His eyes followed your every move, his smile radiating warmth and adoration. Even the simplest tasks, when shared with you, transformed into moments of pure joy. Not content with mere sketches, Hyunjin began striking poses for you, playfully requesting that you capture his image. He wanted his very essence, his artistic soul, to be immortalized on your phone screen, a constant reminder of your love and admiration. And so, your phone became a virtual gallery of Hyunjin's art, each image a testament to his love and creativity. Your home, too, transformed into a living masterpiece, adorned with canvases depicting your shared moments, your laughter, and the unbreakable bond that united you. "I look damn good in this picture. Save it and let everyone know who owns your heart."

Felix

Felix, with his infectious energy and bubbly personality, bounced into the room, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He had just finished a grueling game session and was eager to unwind, hoping to find a new distraction on your phone. As he approached you, his eyes fell upon your phone, resting face up on the table. With a playful grin, he reached out to grab it, eager to immerse himself in the digital world. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the screen, a surge of joy coursed through his veins, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. There, adorning your lockscreen, was a picture of him, captured in a candid moment that radiated his signature charm. His smile, wide and infectious, illuminated the screen, sending a jolt of happiness through Felix's heart. Overwhelmed with emotion, Felix let out a squeal of delight, his voice echoing through the room.

He instantly wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly as if to contain the surge of joy that threatened to overflow from his heart. His feet kicked up in the air, his body swaying to an inaudible rhythm as he danced around you, his laughter echoing through the room. The mere sight of his own image on your lockscreen had transformed his day, filling him with an inexplicable sense of happiness and validation. He would take candid shots of you when you were unaware, capturing your genuine smiles and unguarded moments. He would also take selfies of you together, preserving the precious memories you shared. He would proudly display them on his phone's lockscreen, his laptop's background, and even his social media profiles. His love for you was like a beacon, shining brightly for all to see. "See who just brightened up my screen? My favorite person in the world, of course! You have a way of making everything feel perfect."

Seungmin

Seungmin, with his characteristic stoicism, approached your phone with a nonchalant air. His expression remained unreadable, his eyes scanning the screen with a casual detachment. However, beneath the surface of his composure, a storm of emotions was brewing. As his eyes fell upon the image of himself adorning your lockscreen, a jolt of electricity surged through his veins. His heart pounded in his chest, a rhythm that mirrored the intensity of his love for you. Despite his best efforts to maintain his cool demeanor, a faint blush crept up his cheeks, betraying the undeniable excitement that fluttered within him. Internally, Seungmin was melting, his heart overflowing with a warmth that threatened to melt his usual icy exterior. The simple act of seeing his own image on your lockscreen was a powerful affirmation of your love, a silent declaration that you held him in the highest regard.

With a playful smirk, he feigned indifference, asking, "Oh, so you keep a picture of me on your phone? How many more do you have hidden away?" Seungmin, despite his cool demeanor, was a simp through and through. He reveled in the thought of you carrying his image with you, but he couldn't resist the urge to outdo your admiration. He carefully selected the bestest picture he thought would be on his screen, a picture that captured your essence perfectly. Upon discovering his secret, Seungmin would act like a fool, his cool persona momentarily dissolving into a flurry of embarrassment and delight. He would playfully tease you about your own admiration for him, pretending to be oblivious to the true extent of his own simpdom.

Jeongin

Jeongin, with his youthful charm and endearing personality, had developed a special habit with you. He loved capturing the moments you shared, creating a visual narrative of your love story through couple photos and aesthetic snapshots. These images served as tangible reminders of your shared experiences, preserving the precious memories that you had created together. Jeongin, like any young man, enjoyed having a cool photo as his lockscreen. He appreciated the aesthetics, the way a well-composed image could elevate his phone's appearance. However, there was something undeniably special about seeing his own face adorning your lockscreen. It filled him with a sense of pride and joy, knowing that you were proud to display him as your partner. When Jeongin first noticed his image on your lockscreen, he felt a surge of happiness that threatened to overwhelm him.

His heart pounded in his chest, a rhythm that mirrored the intensity of his love for you. A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes twinkling with delight. In that moment, Jeongin realized that the photo on your lockscreen represented more than just a picture. It was a symbol of your love, a declaration to the world that you were together. It was a reminder that you found him attractive, that you cherished the moments you shared, and that you were proud to call him yours. From that day forward, Jeongin cherished the habit of taking couple photos with you. Each image became a treasured memory, a snapshot of your shared journey. He would often find himself gazing at your lockscreen, admiring the way he and you looked together, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the wonderful person you were. "Sure, others can try, but they'll never come close to the magic we have."

©Tinytinyblogs

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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago

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A kid’s dream ✧

Plot: You find 5 years old Bachira playing alone, so you decide to join him.

A/N: Can I say im proud of this post ? Cause I am. Oh and if you didn’t understand you’re a kid too, like the same age as him.

The late afternoon light cast a warm, honeyed glow across the empty sandbox, creating wispy shadows that danced and flickered playfully with the faintest breeze.

A chubby-cheeked little boy with a tousled mop of messy black curls bounded around the sun-dappled area, kicking a battered soccer ball in exaggerated, uncoordinated motions.

Despite his cherubic features and bright sapphire eyes sparkling with pure glee, something melancholic emanated from the small figure.

A cloud of perpetual isolation, as if the tiny boy orbited on a plane just adjacent to all his peers - forever the outsider peering in.

"Haha! Did you see that shot?!"

Meguru shouted to no one in particular, tiny chest heaving from exertion as he beamed proudly at the ball now rolling to a stop several feet away.

Before he could race after it again, a soft voice piped up from behind causing the young boy to pivot with those big doe eyes blown wide.

"Whatcha doin'?"

You toddled across the sandy pit, downy hair ruffled by the balmly zephyrs tickling your round cheeks.

Despite the cherubic picture of innocence you painted, Meguru immediately bristled - shoulders hunching as if bracing for the inevitable round of mockery that always accompanied any overtures at friendly interaction.

He lifted a chubby arm to vigorously rub at his button nose, regarding you with open suspicion laced through those crystal azure pools.

"Um...playin' soccer?"

A puzzled nose-wrinkle creased your brow at Meguru's inexplicable wariness to so simple an inquiry.

"All by yourself?"

The little boy merely nodded, muddy cleats scuffing the sand as he shuffled in place - clearly prepared for the teasing jabs that typically followed such observations from other kids.

Realizing he wasn't going to supply any additional details unprompted, you simply traipsed nearer, wide-eyed with youthful curiosity.

"But that seems lonely..." You cocked your head to one side, round features scrunched in consternation.

"Do you wanna play together? I'm not very good yet, but I can try!"

Meguru froze, mouth parting with unspoken surprise at your words - so averse to the ugly responses long imprinted on his young psyche.

Was this some cruel joke? A setup to deliver an even more brutal punchline mocking his desires for friendship?

Frantically his gaze searched yours for any trace of trickery or meanness, finding only the most openly earnest and disarmingly sweet expression mirrored back at him.

You simply waited, clumsily fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as minutes ticked by suspended in breathless hope.

That strange, untapped warmth began radiating through Meguru's tiny chest as the reality cemented in his mind. Not only did you wish to play with him...but there was no scorn or malice in your proposition whatsoever!

Within seconds, his whole demeanor transformed in a blinding shift as happiness and disbelieving joy erased all lingering uncertainty.

Scrambling closer to you, the little boy's sun-kissed features split in a megawatt grin of purest elation so overflowing, it seemed to eclipse his entire miniature frame.

Those big sapphire eyes sparkled like crystalline dewdrops, all radiant hope and heart-bursting affection.

Eagerly Meguru reached for your hand, bouncing on the balls of his tiny feet with infectious enthusiasm.

"Yeah!! Yeah, I wanna play together!!"

He squeezed your fingers tight, as if trying to fuse your joined souls into an adamant tether even at this tender age.

Giggling at his exuberance, you gave a reciprocating squeeze as the two of you tumbled onto the sand in a whirl of kicking legs and peals of carefree, tinkling laughter.

Any apprehension evaporated in the golden warmth of this newly-forged comradeship encircling you both in its glow.

For Meguru, it was as if the universe itself had rewarded his earnest desires with the ultimate miracle - a friend, one who could see the boundless depths of his spirit beyond cold, callous judgements.

In those fleeting moments, the young striker felt buoyantly weightless and complete, untethered by solitude for the first time in his short life so far.

His whole world shifted onto an exciting new axis the instant you graced it with simple, radiant innocence and acceptance. In that moment, nothing else in existence could touch him but the breathtaking potential for adventure and belonging stretching into the horizon...

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

Note

Highschool au! Aventurine was walking around the school taking photos (you can choose the reason) when he accidentally caught reader smiling with their friends in his camera/phone's camera and his heart skipped a beat. He took the photo while smiling fondly

Basically developing feelings

“When I Picture You” | Part 1

Summary: In a high school setting, Aventurine is tasked with capturing joyful moments for the yearbook. While taking photos, he unexpectedly catches your smile on camera, and, in that instant, his heart skips a beat.

Tags: High School AU, Photography, Fluff, Aventurine x Reader, Developing Crush, Slow Burn, Unexpected Feelings, Yearbook

A/N: Reading this request remind me of Picture You by Chappell Roan 😪and I had to... Also funny thing, I was planning to do a high school au with Aventurine and Sunday because of a fanart but you beat me to it, anon :')

(Part 2)

It was a bright, late afternoon at Penacony High, and the air felt light with the buzz of chatter and laughter echoing through the hallways. Students gathered in small clusters, sharing stories, stressing over exams, and enjoying the last few minutes before the final bell. Aventurine—otherwise known as Kakavasha to a select few—found himself with his camera in hand, wandering the halls with a purpose. The school had trusted him with a photography project for the yearbook, capturing “Moments Of Joy” across the campus, and he’d taken to the task with an enthusiasm that surprised even him.

Aventurine wasn’t usually the sentimental type. In fact, if anyone knew him well, they’d know he often kept to himself, his charismatic charm balanced by a hint of mystery and a clever smile. But something about seeing others in their natural, happy moments sparked a strange warmth he couldn't shake.

“Just a couple more shots...” he muttered to himself, adjusting the focus on his camera, framing a lively group of students laughing near the lockers.

But then his eye caught someone else—a familiar figure standing off to the side, their head thrown back in laughter. It was you, surrounded by your friends, your eyes sparkling in the golden afternoon light. Aventurine’s breath caught, a sense of wonder blooming unexpectedly as he lifted his camera, trying to steady his hands.

Click.

He’d snapped the picture before he even realized it, the sound loud in his ears. Aventurine felt his heart skip a beat, his lips quirking into a soft, almost unconscious smile. There you were, frozen in a moment of pure joy, your warmth and vibrancy practically radiating from the photograph.

“Why… does it feel like this?” he whispered, lowering the camera, a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement fluttering in his chest. He’d been the one assigned to capture these “Moments Of Joy” around campus, yet here he was, feeling it himself.

Watching you with that easygoing smile and the way your friends gravitated toward you, he felt a pang of curiosity he couldn’t ignore. He’d seen you around campus before, exchanged glances in class, maybe a few quick greetings in passing. But he’d never truly noticed you—until now.

As you turned, catching sight of him with the camera in hand, Aventurine straightened, feigning composure.

"Hey, are you taking pictures for the yearbook?" you asked, curiosity lighting up your expression.

He nodded, maintaining his usual confidence, though his heart pounded. “Yes, capturing ‘Moments Of Joy’ for the school to remember. Lucky I caught such a radiant one just now.”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden compliment, and laughed softly. “Well, I guess I’ll have to smile my best from now on if I see you around.”

He smirked, feeling his confidence return, though he was well aware of the flush creeping up his neck. “I’ll keep my camera ready then.”

As you walked back to your friends, Aventurine found himself watching you go, a rare, genuine fondness spreading through him. For a man who usually planned every move, calculated every step, and saw the world as a game of risks and rewards, the thought of seeing you again without knowing exactly what would happen… felt like the start of something new. Something he might be willing to gamble on.

And from that day on, he found himself seeking out the warmth of your laughter, the brightness of your presence, as if each moment he captured with his camera might reveal the answer to the feeling stirring in his heart.

Let me know if you want a part 2 🤭 I honestly loved this

#hsr #honkai star rail #x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr aventurine x reader #fluff #high school au #photography #developing crush #slow burn #yearbook #unexpected feelings

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phone4pills · 6 hours ago

Text

WHEN WE’RE OLD bf!Matt x Reader

no smut (nnn), fluff, a little upset but a happy ending, cutie matt, anon request

“Hey… it’s okay. He’s okay!” Matt hushed you, pulling you into his side with an arm over your shoulders. Tears rolled down your face at a rapid pace. And all for what? An old man eating alone across from your table. Matt understood where the pain was rooted. It was upsetting to see, only because of the vulnerability radiating off of the scene. But he was sure the man was alright. He was smiling at the waiters and enjoying his meal.

Although, you couldn’t help but notice the image he was holding in his hand. An old picture of a beautiful woman, short curls falling just above her shoulder and a beret on her head. Her cherry-red lips painted a graceful smile across her face, one that seemed purely of joy. And it stripped your joy watching him stare at the rusty piece of paper with utmost wonder, grey eyes flitting between each crease on the surface of the worn-out material. “Matt he’s all a-alone.”

He shook his head, wiping the odd tears off your cheeks before leaning closer to you. “Why don’t we go over there, eat lunch with him?” You stared up at your boyfriend, eyes full of a new found hope. You didn’t think he’d suggest such a thing, and you certainly didn’t think you’d agree. But once you did, the two of you were making your way over to him quickly.

The man introduced himself as ‘Ernie’, he said he was waiting for his wife to return from the restroom. You let out a relieved huff. Despite your knowledge of his company, you and Matt decided to sit at the table with the couple. It was like a double date. Ernie and his wife, Marg, or fifty years and you and Matt, your boyfriend of almost fifty days. Didn’t seem like much compared to the elderly couple, but it was a full month and more.

Marg looked gorgeous. Secretly, you hoped you’d age like her, still rocking the classic red lip.

Lunch was a pleasure, with the four of you chatting away. From stories to jokes to debates, all of you were engaged in conversation for a few hours. And after you left, you told Matt how happy you were. “Those were some of the best hours of my life.” You spoke as Matt helped you into the car. He nodded, closing your door and making his way to the driver’s side of the vehicle. You could tell he wanted to say something but he was struggling to let it out. “Matt, are you okay?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah- um, yeah I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Matt turned in his seat to face you. “I just hope we can eat lunch together when we get old.”

TAGLIST: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack

Awww, this one was a short one but it was just as cute in my opinion. May this love find me! I feel like Matt would say this shit too. Anyways, send in your requests and go to my f-ing MASTERLIST ik you want more you sap.

- ©phone4pills

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imwetforyourmom · 2 months ago

Text

GHOST OF A MEMORY.

CW: Swearing, mention of death, based off that one ep of greys anatomy - izzie and denny, very very sick chris, like hella sick chris—basically in need of a heart sick (because denny needed one)

SUMMARY: Even love cant stop ones fate.

A/N: The way my ass had to take BREAKS writing ts cause I kept crying

A/N: POOKIE GOT FIRST READDD @curi0usm0nkeyy

·˚ ༘

“You’ll always be my favorite.”

The love filling inside their bodies didnt stop the fate Chris would see soon, even the tangling, desperate movements of one another, the pure need underlying the quick, rushed movements to be one with eachother, to be together. Intertwined.

The love that surfaced from the crevices deep inside Chris’ body everytime he saw the girl of his dreams, you. He couldn’t picture a life without you, he couldn’t picture saying goodbye to the kids when dropping them at school if they werent yours, he couldnt picture growing old and wrinkly, the love mingling your bodies keeping your minds young for as long as you kept on with the beautiful, undying love for one another, without you. He didnt want to live a life, if you werent his. He’d rather suffer through the physical pain being on the hospital bed brought him, than ever to live a life where you dont give him forehead kisses everyday, where he wont feel the love radiating off your body.

Despite the emotional and physical pain it brought Chris to lie on the same, light blue, scratchy hospital bed, Chris would never choose to be healthy, to be able to ride a bicycle, to be able to breathe the fresh air through his lungs, if it meant you werent going to be there for him, side by side with him. Riding the bicycle with him, your laughter filling your ears as you biked down the empty street, riding into the sunset as you do so. He wanted to hold your hand while inhaling the fresh, dew smelling oxygen through his lungs, his head turned to look at your side profile, instead looking at you, rather than the beautiful nature he’d been deprived of seeing for months, years. Because you’re the only thing that could bring him the true joy of being him again. The accomplishing, true nature, of you.

His body began to crumple slowly again, after building up again, slowly mending the shattered pieces together like a child at hard work, spending hours at the same chalky tan desk, super gluing his fallen apart wooden airplane together, after playing with it too much. Until, in the palm of his own tiny fingers, it snaps, falling back to its returned form. Broken, and maybe never be able to fix again. He shed his tears, yet kept the fixing up, his mind destined with not giving up. Chris felt like that child— but not more than you did. You watched as his skin began filling with more color everyday, the bags of his eyes slowly turning lighter to match the rest of the peachy shade of his skin, his voice beginning to lose the usually rasp. Until, it all snapped.

He lost all of his progress, his body failed, couldn’t accept the fact he was healing, too attached to being sick to heal. His lungs returned to the short, quick breathing, his hands lost their heat and calm, returning back to freezing and shaky, his eyes never dimmed the same light they always had, even if the bulbs keeping his body up and running began to dim. The light switch struggling to turn on. He never once failed to look at you differently, to change to the same heartfelt look on his face, the soft, growing weak smile doing its best to cover the pain and exhaustion he felt inside. He didnt want you to go through it with him. You deserved better.

You didnt deserve to feel the ache growing inside his body with him, you deserved the excitement radiating off ‘the one’, filling inside your own body, Chris couldn’t give that to you. He regretted his entire relationship with you, but couldn’t be happier with you.

You deserved to be able to go onto hikes, travel across the world, or go on a simple, late night drive to mcdonalds, Chris’ rap music humming softly in the background. You didnt deserve to just sit beside his sick body, in a blaring white hospital room, the chlorine smell lingering in the air. It wasnt good for your body, to just sit beside him, reminiscing in the memories of when he was happy and healthy, when you could do anything together. “Side by side.” He’d say, but how you wish he could say it again, under different circumstances.

On one certain afternoon, the sky a bright blue, birds chirping, lifeful green grass and people all outside, bright smiles on their faces, everything was okay. At least, to others it was. Yet, for you, you couldn’t dare bring yourself to mirror their emotions, an ugly grin on your face sounded like a sin.

You hurt too much. It wasn’t even hurt. You didnt know what the fuck it was. Your eyes were dry with unshed tears—however that worked—your heart thrummed weakly against your ribs (reminding you of Chris), each thump a reminder of the shaky breathing Chris took that morning. Or, in other words, his last, short breaths.

Fuck. His last breaths.

He wasnt here anymore. He was gone.

You were never gonna hear his voice again, the same gentle rasp to it, the same gentle reminder that you were gonna be okay, as long as you were with him. But he’s not here anymore. He never will be. Now what were you without him?

You were never going to have the familiar feeling of a blanket on your shoulders with even the feeling of his presence. Even when you weren’t speaking, he still held your everything in the palm of his hand. You were never going to feel the same safety around a person that you felt with Chris. He was never going to be able to provide you with the comforting grasp of being safe with him, even in the space of your own home, protected of dangers.

And what hurt most, was the warm smile you could never see live, in person, ever again. It was torn from you, ripped away. Apart of you, maybe even all of you, going with it. You couldnt see his grin for you anymore, the pure flashed teeth churning your stomach with comfort and content, needing nothing more in that moment, than staying with him. Even when it was a weak and broken chapped lipped smile, it still fluttered your heart with joy and and a feeling you couldn’t place your finger onto, but the feeling you so badly wanted to grasp onto and never let go.

Your hands clenched into fists against the warm, fake wooden bench. Your back leant against the back of the bench in a poor attempt to relax, yet the stiffened form of your entire body didn’t weaken. It only served as a purpose that sitting outside, trying to bathe in the light, soak in the warmth, wasn’t what you should be doing right now. You should be sobbing, your shoulders shaking heavily with each loud wail falling from your frowned lips, your hands clenched at your sides. You were supposed to be mourning, crying your heart out, not trying to enjoy the outside, trying to bring your mind off of him.

Your body felt sick to the brim. Your throat hurt with the sobs you were holding back, attempting to avoid causing a scene out in public. Your vision blurred with the pooling tears. You hated feeling this way, your stomach nauseous, your head hurting like hell, and your body sick with the need to talk to Chris. To curl into his side, drinking in his body heat, stealing it greedily.

Maybe it was the lingering words that worsened the way you felt, the words he exhaustedly rasped out, his arms a comforting assure around you. Maybe, just maybe you took that moment for granted. At least a part of you did, it all happened too fast. One point you were trying to hear over your own deafening sobs, trying to hear his desperate confessions of love, the love he’d always give you. And the love he wanted you to go and give someone else.

His lips placed above your ear, his words muffle against your hair, breathing in you for one last time. The weakened smile adorning his lips broke your heart even more, he gave you one last effort to be him. To assure you, he was okay. He was going to be okay. Or, the smile etching his features climbed onto your shoulders, pillowing behind your neck, the rest falling behind your back and front. Warming you for what he physically couldnt do.

Or, perchance, his last attempt to give you him, was the echoes of his murmurs. The echoes of the war he’d had with his body, fighting to live, for you.

“You’ll always be my favorite.” Was all that stuck with you, all that you could comprehend, gather from the overwhelming moment. Too caught up with the fact you’d never get to experience him again, to even try, to even beg on your knees to listen to his last efforts.

1,503 words.

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