#and I have so many thoughts!!! and feelings!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkflower2003 · 24 hours

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˗ˏˋ IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS ! ´ˎ˗

Not Who I Thought pt 3 series masterlist

Lando Norris x ex!reader (almost Lewis Hamilton x reader)

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yourusername posted to her story!

story replies:

GeorgeRussell: LOL WTF who tf is sending u that many roses??? Can I have some of the lego?

OscarPiastri: i told him not to you know, but he wouldn’t listen.

Lilymhe: oh, he didn’t

MaxVerstappen: want me to fight?

KellyPiquet: oh roses?…he trying trying

LandoNorris: i’m glad you both liked my gifts🤍

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Lando Norris Posted!

LandoNorris: i’m gonna get you back

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AlexAlbon: uh 🤨 yeah no that’s not happening

GeorgeRussell: not a chance mate

MaxVerstappen: this is surely not happening right now, i do not have the strength to fight rn but i will if i have to

DanielRicciardo: lol good luck on race day mate, you’re gonna need it

PierreGasly: Lando, don’t do this to yourself mate

OscarPiastri: told you not to do it.

Username2: oh he gotta work work to get her back, think he forgot she’s got all the other drivers as big brothers now lol

Username3: THEY’RE THE SAME ROSES THAT YN POSTED

Username4: We still don’t know what’s happened but if anything, i don’t think yn will forgive too easily

CharlesLeclerc: they don’t need their hearts broken again

LandoNorris: i don’t want to break, i want to be there

CarlosSainz: NOPE

LewisHamilton: not gonna happen mate lol

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yourusername: in your wildest dreams

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lilymhe: once again, marry me please

yourusername: leave Alex rn and i’ll do it

AlexAlbon: right well that’s rude

yourusername: get over it, i’m hotter than you anyway

GeorgeRussell: UH, I will not have you insult my boy like that✋🏼

yourusername: you officially have the least favourite uncle award now

GeorgeRussell: WHAT NO I TAKE IT BACK ALEX IS AN UGLY MF

AlexAlbon: wow ok

GeorgeRussell: Alex you’ll get over it, i NEED this award

AlexAlbon: you also need a world championship but you ain’t getting that either

yourusername: that must’ve hurt

GeorgeRussell: it did, can i be favourite uncle to make me feel better?

yourusername: no

MaxVerstappen: i can’t keep up with everything that’s happening, i’ve had Kelly keep a timeline for me

KellyPiquet: Max, please do shut up

CharlesLeclerc: since when did you and baby boy go to the beach and not invite me????

yourusername: maybe i didn’t want you here this time

CharlesLeclerc: pfffftt lies. Did you go with someone else?

yourusername: 🫣

CharlesLeclerc: GASP

LandoNorris: definitely in my wildest dreams

yourusername: not gonna happen

LandoNorris: doesn’t mean i won’t try

LewisHamilton: Always in my dreams. had a great time yn especially spending time with my favourite little buddy, but the view of you was always extra nice💙

yourusername: we loved being there with you Lew!💗

Username3: SHE WAS ON HOLIDAY WITH LEWIS??? LEW??

username4: love triangle trope? Lando, YN & Lewis?

username5: i’m on Lewis’ side

Username6: NOPE THIS IS NOT HAPPENING YN AND LANDO NEED TO BE BACK TOGETHERRR

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yourusername: we all deserve happiness💛

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MaxVerstappen: you’re all so cryptic i can’t stand it. Buddy coming round for dinner soon?

yourusername: always, he misses his auntie Kelly

KellyPiquet: in your face Max Emilian, i knew he preferred me.

yourusername: is my son just a way for you all to see who is liked the most?

GeorgeRussell: yes

AlexAlbon: yes

Carmenmmundt: yes

DanielRicciardo: yes

Lilymhe: yes

KellyPiquet: yes

CharlesLeclerc: yes

yourusername: you all need to get lives fr

GeorgeRussell: we have lives, a life where we want to know who Milo likes best

username5: MILO? GEORGE EXPOSING SECRETS AGAIN BUT THIS WAS NEEDED

Username6: so no one is gonna talk about how Lewis and his parents are on the second slide?? just me??

username7: who wants to bet that Lewis and yn are dating??

username8: there’s no true evidence of that other than lewis being close to yn’s son (which all the other drivers are too) and the fact they’ve been on holiday together, which yn goes on holiday with the boys and their partners.

username7: ah yes, but Lewis does not have a partner, he normally travels with family or friends, but this time he’s been spending a lot more time with yn and commenting flirtatious comments on her posts.

LandoNorris: little man Milo🧡 you look lovely yn

yourusername: thanks Lando, Milo say’s thanks for the gifts you sent x

username8: i think my head just exploded, i’m so confused???

LewisHamilton: 🙄

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Lando Norris stood outside the apartment door, his heart racing. He stared at the number, 12B, for what felt like an eternity before summoning the courage to knock. It had taken him almost 2 years to reach this point. He wasn't ready then, but he was now. He wanted to meet his son, Milo, and make amends for the mistakes he had made.

The door opened, and Y/N stood there, a mixture of surprise and apprehension in her eyes. She was as beautiful as ever, and for a moment, Lando was struck speechless. Her gaze softened, and she stepped aside to let him in without a word, knowing he had kept to his word, making the effort to come when she asked him to.

As he entered, his eyes were immediately drawn to the little boy playing on the living room floor. Milo. His son. The boy was a perfect blend of both him and Y/N, with bright eyes and an infectious giggle that made Lando's heart ache with both joy and regret.

But then Lando noticed someone else in the room—Lewis Hamilton. He was sitting on the couch, watching Milo with a protective intensity that Lando recognised. It was the same look he’d seen in the rearview mirror countless times, a fierce determination that said, "I will not back down."

"Hey," Lando said, his voice faltering. He hadn't expected Lewis to be here. He knew they were friends, but this was supposed to be his moment with Milo. He tried to hide his annoyance as he turned back to Y/N. "I didn’t know you had company."

Y/N bit her lip, glancing at Lewis before responding. "Lewis has been helping me out with Milo for a bit, since we just came off holiday."

Lando felt a surge of jealousy but pushed it down. This wasn't about Lewis. This was about meeting his son. Nodding, not knowing how to reply he knelt down to the little boy, trying to keep his voice steady. "Hi, Milo. I'm…I'm your dad."

Milo looked up, his eyes wide with curiosity. He didn’t say anything but continued to watch Lando intently. Lando felt a lump in his throat. This was his flesh and blood, a part of him that he had missed so much of.

Lewis cleared his throat, drawing Lando's attention. "Milo's a great kid," he said, his tone neutral but his eyes wary. "He's been a joy to be around."

Lando nodded, forcing a smile. "I’m sure he is. I’m here to…to get to know him, if that’s okay."

Y/N hesitated, looking between the two men. "Of course, Lando. I want Milo to know his father, but this isn't a half-arsed thing, it's a lot of work to care for a child, you can't just come and go whenever you please, you have to be all in."

Lando's heart sank at those words, but he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He had made his choices, and now he had to deal with the consequences. He stood up, facing Lewis directly. "Thank you for being there for them, Lewis. Really."

"I'm not who I was before YN, i've grown up, I promise." YN just nodded slightly, breathing heavily.

There was an awkward silence, and Lando couldn't help but feel like an outsider in his own family. He glanced at Y/N, hoping for some sign of what she was thinking. "Are you two…?" He let the question hang in the air, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

Y/N and Lewis exchanged a look, one that spoke volumes. There was something there, something unspoken but palpable. Y/N looked down, her cheeks flushing slightly. "We're good friends."

Lando swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. "I see."

Lewis stood up, crossing the room to where Milo was playing. He picked the boy up, holding him with a familiarity that twisted Lando's heart. "I'll take Milo for a walk. Give you two some time to talk."

Y/N nodded, grateful. "Thanks, Lewis." Lewis bent down, giving YN a kiss on the cheek, almost as though he was marking his territory, telling Lando that YN saying they were 'good friends' was a lie.

As Lewis left the apartment with Milo, Lando and Y/N stood in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Y/N spoke. "Why now, Lando? Why come back after all this time?"

Lando took a deep breath. "I wasn't ready before. I was scared, and I made a mistake. But I've grown up, Y/N. I want to be a part of Milo's life. And yours, if you'll let me."

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not that simple, Lando. A lot has happened. Milo has grown up with Lewis around. He’s been more of a father to him than you have."

"I know," Lando said, his voice breaking. "But I want to change that. I want to make up for lost time."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and hope. "It's not just about you, Lando. It's about what's best for Milo. And I don’t want to hurt Lewis either. He's been so good to us, he does everything for us."

Lando nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "I get it. But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, i'm going to be his dad, we can co-parent, and maybe...I could earn your trust back."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. "I just don’t know if I can trust you not to leave again."

"I won’t," Lando said firmly. "I promise."

They stood there, the air thick with tension and unresolved feelings. Lando reached out, taking Y/N's hand in his. "Please, give me a chance to prove it. I want to be a father to Milo."

Y/N looked down at their hands, her expression conflicted. "I…I need time, Lando. This is a lot to take in."

"I understand," Lando said softly. "Take all the time you need. I’m not giving up on us. On any of us."

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taglist: People who commented on the last part (there will be more parts!) you guys wanted more Lewis so here you go💗

@mswwvaleska @mcmuppet @moonstsrz @goldenharrysworld @ilivbullyingjeongin @iamdedsthingz @judespoision @verstappensrealwife @mxdi0 @pretty-angel333 @arshiyuh @samantha-chicago @acesofspadess @hi00000234567 @mehrmonga @danika1994 @dullypully @poppyflower-22 @bibissparkles @daisyfreecs @bookishnerd1132 @destinyg237 @luvrrish @charlesgirl16 @ynbutbetter r @reguluscrystals @honethatty12 @loloekie @midnights-lily @aubsaubaubing @herebereblogs @op81imh @be-your-coffee-pot @woozarts

#formula 1 #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #berry answers🍓#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 smau #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you #lando norris #formula one x reader #smau

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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 day

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Cinderella Doesn't Believe in Fairytales (pt 10)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3). (Part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9)

Summary: There are many sorts of meetings. Meetings you dread and meetings you anticipate. Baron Ramsey is overdue for both.

“I did not expect you to return so soon,” the Queen says. Her coal-like eyes flick over the Baron, cataloguing every inch of him. Did she see the dust clinging to his trousers, evidence of his haste to arrive? Did she see the tightness in his jaw at her welcome? Did she see the new bead of sweat rolling down his cheek? “Another week at the earliest.”

“I—” The Baron has to summon moisture to his mouth to speak. He swallows. “I was already within our borders when your message found me. Of course, I had no choice but to return.”

The Queen’s expression doesn’t change, but her aura does. She leans back in her throne and watches him through half-lidded eyes. “Why is it you think I called for you, Baron David Ramsey?”

To torment me, he thinks and doesn’t say. He wishes he would have listened to his wife all those years ago. She told him they must go unnoticed. He thought he had rid himself of his arrogance when he married her, but he was wrong. It had been arrogant of him to not heed her warning.

“There is a new type of dye in the southern islands,” he says. He spreads his hands wide. “If I had known your majesty had already heard of it, I would not have delayed in finding a sample. I hope you will understand. I was returning home after so many years abroad.”

The Queen never admits to not knowing. Her expression flickers. “Yes, the new dye…I am interested in it.”

A wave of relief rocks through him. This is familiar territory. Every request for a new product she gives him is another handful of months he can keep her attention away from his home and the secrets he has kept hidden there for 19 years. “It would be my privilege to acquire some products using this new dye for you, your majesty. I have made a promise to the Baroness to return home this month however, so there will be a delay—”

“Returning home to an empty house?”

The Baron blinks. “Pardon?” Then her words register and a surge of sick fear makes him sway on the spot. What has she done? He swallows twice before he can speak. “N-no, to my daughter – my daughters. To the Baroness.”

The Queen studies him. The Baron desperately tries to hold himself still. The Queen always speaks vaguely. He is hearing a threat where none exists. The Queen’s domain may extend past his manor, but her magic doesn’t. She doesn’t know, she can’t know. She is testing him. Should he have denied knowing that the higher nobility of this land were, in fact, the Unseelie Court?

Sweat rolls down his temple and he feels the Queen’s eyes track its progress.

“Then rejoice,” the Queen says at last. Her nails trace the arm of her throne. “Your journey is at an end. Your family is in the Capital.”

“Wha—” What?! The Baron bites his tongue so hard blood wells. The pain does little to clear the panic from his mind. “I—I was not aware.”

“I can see that,” the Queen says. The sharp edge in her gaze softens. Calculation crosses her face briefly and settles into an unsettling amusement. She smiles. “Yes, that makes sense. You wouldn’t have been home to receive the invitation. There is a ball, Baron David Ramsey. All eligible ladies of the kingdom are in the Capital for it, of course. Your…daughters included.”

A ball? It’s been three decades since the Queen last a held a ball, perhaps longer. Why now? His wife told him that the Unseelie Court was confined to the very core of their territory after the last great war. She predicted that their power would not be enough to free them for another hundred years. So why a ball? Why invite the human nobles across the land to come into the heart of the territory before they were recovered? Why—

The Prince. These are politics the Baron knows. The Prince has come of age this year. This isn’t an ordinary ball. The Royal Line must continue regardless of the powers they may or may not have recovered. A Prince needs a Princess.

The Unseelie Court is hunting for new blood.

“Then I suppose,” the Baron says faintly, “that I am not going home quite yet after all.” The unease the Queen voicing his name evokes fades next to the sick fear roiling in the Baron’s stomach. “By your leave, of course.”

“Nothing would make me happier than having your attendance at the ball tonight,” the Queen purrs. She extends a hand and an invitation appears in the air between them. She crooks her finger and it drifts into the Baron’s chest. “I guarantee that this will be a surprise reunion that no one will want to miss.”

The Baron’s clammy hand presses the invitation over his heart. Is it his imagination or can he feel oily tendrils seep from it and into his heart? Is the air colder? Without thinking, the Baron says, “Thank you for your consideration, your majesty.”

A wave of weakness washes over him as soon as his thanks leaves his lips. He staggers and his vision wavers. The Queen’s nostrils flare as she breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering shut. Does the King laugh behind his hand? Or does he cough?

His wife’s voice echoes in his mind. Never thank the fae. Never apologize. And especially never give thanks nor apology to the Unseelie.

“Don’t thank me yet, Baron,” the Queen says. When she opens her eyes they gleam with an unearthly purple. Black stains her mouth when she smiles. “Tonight. Thank me tonight.”

The order slips around his neck like a noose. The invitation throbs like a second heart. “Yes, my Queen,” the Baron whispers.

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Cinderella watches the colors of the sunset catch in the crystals embroidered on her dress, red and pink and gold against the eggshell blue of the silk. Helga’s hands are gentle as she weaves Cinderella’s hair into an intricate knot.

“There,” Helga says. There’s a faint press of lips on top of Cinderella’s head, the move so effortlessly affectionate that Cinderella’s heart sings. Helga gently lifts Cinderella’s chin. “Take a look. We can change anything you don’t like.”

This afternoon with Helga has been magical. Cinderella doesn’t remember the last time she felt so at ease with another person besides the Prince. They talked and laughed and commiserated over her friend’s lack of communication, about nature, about what type of jam goes best on what type of bread, about everything and anything. Good food and good company has healed something deep inside of Cinderella, another crack sealing tight and holding. She can’t imagine not liking something that Helga has done for her.

She is still surprised when she sees herself in the mirror.

Last night’s gold jewelry highlighted Cinderella’s hair and the deep green of the dress. She remembers feeling beautiful and elegant and so, so confident.

Tonight is—well, it’s everything Cinderella feels.

It’s as if Helga listened to Cinderella’s recounting of the previous night and manifested every hope and every joyful memory into what Cinderella sees before her. She feels like she’s glowing. Rather than focus on her hair this dress throws her light eyes into brilliant focus. She blinks quickly. She didn’t realize she had her mother’s eyes until this moment.

Her jewelry is still dainty, but it all shines as brightly as the crystals dotted like flowers through the skirts of her dress. A single teardrop pendant hangs from a silver chain around her neck and diamond earrings reflect firelight as the castle lights the sconces around her room. Silver thread holds Cinderella’s hairstyle in place.

“I’m the sky,” Cinderella says breathlessly.

“And more,” Helga promises. There’s a knock on the door. Helga meets Cinderella’s eyes through the mirror and she smiles. “Your carriage has arrived, my lady.”

Cinderella’s heart leaps as she rises. The Prince is here. Her friend. Suddenly she feels…not insecure, not quite. There is a fluttering in her stomach as Helga goes to the door, a breathless anticipation that makes her feel weightless. She finds herself following Helga to the door, stopping a few feet behind her when the older woman opens it.

Oh, Cinderella thinks as, unerringly, the Prince’s eyes meet hers. The Prince is draped in a deep, night-sky blue, the same crystals on Cinderella’s dress sewn in clusters on his jacket. His black hair is swept away from his face and a thin, silver wire twines around one ear like a vine.

“You’re early,” Helga chastises the Prince.

The Prince jolts as if he didn’t notice Helga at all. “I thought it best if we had dinner before—”

“We match,” Cinderella says.

Helga jumps, spinning on one foot with her hand presses over her heart. “Oh! I didn’t hear you come up behind me...”

“Why,” the Prince says and pretends shock as he looks down at his outfit. “I think we do.”

Cinderella fights against a smile. “You knew I would choose the blue dress.”

“I had an inkling.”

Cinderella slides around Helga, barely noticing as the older woman wordlessly gives way. She takes the Prince’s arm when he offers it. “You said dinner?”

“That I did.”

Cinderella is full on bread and jam and juice. “I’d like that.”

“You could have sent a note,” Helga mutters. But she drapes a buttery-soft shawl around Cinderella’s shoulders to protect her against the evening chill and does not protest when the Prince leads her from Emerald Castle and into the gardens rather than to the carriage.

The gardens are a different world at night, especially seen from the ground rather than the window of her guest room. Small, wrought iron torches mark their path past the flower beds and towards the hedge maze.

“If you get us lost and we wind up being late again, I’m not walking in with you,” Cinderella says as they enter. The hedges smell slightly floral and she breathes the fresh scent in hungrily. Jasmine, maybe? “I saw the look the Queen gave you last night.”

“My mother doesn’t give looks to me,” the Prince denies. He grins at her. “And we won’t be late. Or, if we are, neither of my parents will be upset.”

Something in his voice gives Cinderella pause. “Because they love you so very much?”

“Because if we’re late, they’ll be late too,” the Prince says and directs her around one last corner into the center of the maze where the Queen and King are waiting at a table set for four.

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(Patreon)

#my writing #cinderella retelling

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solemnarration · 2 days

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𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter five

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, swearing, kissing, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: last chapter was for the patrick girlies, this one’s for the art girlies xx 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐙-𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍. 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 – 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟗, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗. 𝟎𝟖:𝟏𝟑𝐏𝐌.

You walked with Tashi to her hotel room, each step feeling as familiar as it did daunting. The last time you felt this unsure walking through a hotel with her was when you visited Art and Patrick before their final at the Junior US Open. Except that unsureness was surpassed by an excitement to see them again.

That night was, in many ways, the beginning of the end.

Tashi used her keycard to open the door and let you in first. You hesitated, glancing between the doorway and your ex-best friend as you thought of what you might see in Art and Tashi’s room.

With your heart racing and palms sweating, you mustered the courage to enter. Your eyes landed on the familiar skincare products on the bedside table, the ones Tashi had sworn by for years. Your gaze then shifted to the old leather-bound notebook on the desk, a gift you had given Art for Christmas the first year you dated, now a relic of your shared past. The mingling scents of their perfumes hit you next, a blend both comforting and foreign, causing a wave of nostalgia to crash over you.

When you finally had your fill of investigating the room like a detective for clues, you turned to see Tashi looking at you expectantly.

You blinked twice, refocusing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted green or chamomile,” she explained, holding up two unopened sachets of tea for you to choose from.

“Whichever you don’t want,” you decided, shrugging. The bed was perfectly made, and you supposed you could have chosen somewhere else to sit, but you felt like you might faint unless you found a seat. Awkwardly, you motioned to the bed, asking for permission.

“Of course, sit,” Tashi granted frantically, almost as flustered as you.

She expected having you in her room would be strange, but didn’t realise she would be so nervous. Suddenly, she wanted you to think highly of her, even though she had given up on that long ago after that fateful fight that ended your friendship. Even the way Patrick glared at her downstairs rattled her a little. He had so much loyalty and respect for you, which he no longer had for her since she broke your heart.

Maybe that was the real reason he came to see her in Atlanta all those years ago, to get you to cut ties with him for good.

As Tashi poured the hot water into two teacups, you sat on the bed and tried not to let the weight of it all hit you. Sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, you felt an unsettling intimacy and alienation as you nervously traced patterns on the unfamiliar quilt. Despite the lingering personal touches, the impersonal sterility of the hotel room offered you no real insight into the life Art and Tashi now shared. You were left grasping at fragments of the past, and it made you feel sad and hopeless.

At least when you were with Patrick, you had the comfort of not being alone. Seeing a glimpse of Art and Tashi’s life together made you painfully aware of how long you had been alone.

No best friend, no boyfriend, no husband, and no daughter.

You allowed yourself to ask one question about Art. It was the polite thing to do, and then you wouldn’t have to awkwardly avoid the elephant in the room. After all, he was Tashi’s husband – and player – and was bound to come up in conversation.

“How’s Art doing?” you questioned, trying to keep your voice neutral. “I heard on the news he had surgery less than a year ago.”

“His recovery was almost miraculous,” Tashi replied, sitting beside you and passing you a plain white hotel teacup and saucer. “So he’s managed to adjust to his new routine really well despite everything that happened. His body hasn’t given up on him, but he isn’t quite there mentally yet. That’s the major obstacle for him.”

You wanted to comment – typical Art, always stuck in his head – but said nothing. Instead, you wondered, “He isn’t quite where yet?” After saying it, you silently cursed yourself. That was two questions about Art. You were only going to let yourself have one.

Tashi quirked an eyebrow as if she couldn’t believe you had to ask. “Where he needs to be to complete his career grand slam,” she reiterated.

“Oh, right,” you said. The disappointment that everything led back to tennis sank in. You felt your shoulders slump and breath hitch, a subtle shift that went unnoticed by Tashi, who had forgotten many of your nonverbal cues. “Of course. Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out before the Open.”

“That’s actually why I asked you here,” Tashi revealed.

She carefully smoothed her expression, hiding the turmoil behind a calm facade as she placed her cup of tea on the saucer with deliberate care. Despite her efforts to look neutral, you could read the telltale signs of her preparing herself to say something shocking. Your observant nature picked up on the subtle tension, and you communicated silently for the first time in years when your eyes met hers.

In a warning tone, you said, “Tashi,” putting your teacup on the floor. “What’s going on?”

The air between you was thick with unspoken questions, and you were nervous. Suddenly, everything was starting to worry you. Why had Tashi reached out after so many years? Why had you immediately raced to her side, even though you didn’t owe her anything? Why was it so hard to let go of Art and Patrick when you spent more of your life without them than with them? Your instincts prickled with suspicion. Each beat of silence between you felt like walking on a knife’s edge.

“Art hasn’t been the same since the injury,” Tashi explained after a moment of hesitation. “It’s like he was expecting it to put him out of the game forever, and when it didn’t, he realised that everyone was expecting him to come back. So he did, and I thought he’d be fine, but he’s unfocused and unhappy, and it shows in his playing.”

“Tashi, stop,” you pleaded, gazing at her with huge eyes. “I already told you I don’t want to talk about Art.”

“You asked about him!”

You scoffed at her weak rebuttal. “I was being polite, Tashi! I’m sitting on his bed with his wife, I thought I might as well acknowledge his existence so we can move on,” you retorted.

“Art’s never going to achieve his career grand slam without you in his life,” Tashi declared. You froze. Nothing could have prepared you to hear those words leave her mouth. A palpable silence lingered between you as you gaped at your ex-best friend like a fish. Tashi took a deep breath. “That’s why I texted you to meet me. You’re the only one who can reignite his passion for tennis. He never played as well as he did when you were together, and he never played the same when you broke up. The only time he ever played with real fire was when he was playing to impress you, Y/I.” Her old nickname for you slipped out so seamlessly that you didn’t notice it. “I need your help.”

You shut your eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

She stared at you, trying to read your expression. “I never joke about tennis, Y/N. You know that,” Tashi replied.

“I’m leaving,” you declared in a monotonous voice. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot, I should never have come. I should have known this was just going to be about you coaching Art or something just as vapid.”

“You know I’m right,” Tashi insisted, trying to keep her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her. Your stomach knotted at the sure tone in her words. “Ever since you broke up, he lost his love for it. He’s seconds from quitting, I feel it every time he looks at me. He’s tired, Y/N. More mentally than physically. But I think you can convince him to keep going.”

Your brows furrowed. “Even if what you’re saying made any sense and I agreed to do it – which I’m not – why would he listen to me?” you wondered, shaking your head. “Why would he care what I have to say? I haven’t spoken to Art in years, he has no reason to let me influence his decisions.”

Tashi leaned closer, her eyes intense. “Because he’s in love with you. He always has been. From the moment you walked out onto the court he’s been hooked and it never went away.”

“That’s not true,” you argued with her. “That was a lifetime ago! We were eighteen, he fell in love at first sight, and then we grew up.”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Tashi demanded, incredulous. “I know my husband well enough to know he would do anything you asked. If you told him to leave me and never see Lily again he’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Your heart sank at her words, hurt painting your expression. “That’s a horrible thing to say, Tashi,” you whispered, glancing down at your lap. “You have to know that’s not true. I may not know Art anymore but he would never do that to either of you, especially your daughter.”

“He’ll listen to you because he admires you, Y/N. Your opinion is his gospel, you know that.”

“No, it’s not. We’re not eighteen anymore. He doesn’t follow me around Stanford with bouquets of lilies, and he certainly isn’t making me friendship bracelets–” you threw your hands in the air, trying to think of other examples– “or leaving me romantic notes in my dorm. He married you, he loves you!”

Tashi shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. “I know he loves me, Y/N. But he longs for you every day of his life,” she admitted, voice wavering. “Like a compass always pointing north, his heart unfailingly gravitates towards you. And now that you aren’t in his life anymore he doesn’t know what the right way is,” Tashi explained. “He’s lost.” You felt your throat tighten, your heartbeat pounding at her confession. “He’ll do anything you say. If you ask him to keep playing, he will.”

“Even if that’s true, he can’t play for anyone other than himself,” you pointed out. “We know what it takes to make it in tennis, it’s going to take everything he has. If you say his heart isn’t in it then he’s going to quit regardless of what anyone tells him to do.”

“His heart is too busy searching for you to know what he wants,” Tashi retorted. “He’s lost his way and only you can help him find it again.” Her stare bore into yours, unwavering. “If you tell him to push through, he’ll find the strength to do it. I know you care about him, that’s why I’m asking you. Please, just talk to him. See if there’s anything left in him that wants to fight,” she begged.

Your mind swirled with memories of adolescence and the bond you once shared with Tashi. You felt a pang of sorrow, realising how far apart you had drifted. Perhaps all those things she used to say about your friendship were true. It’s like she’s the mirror reflecting the best parts of me back at myself, she had said in the hotel that night. Without her, I’m not sure I’d recognise the person staring back at me.

You certainly didn’t recognise the woman before you as Tashi, your former best friend.

“This is awful, Tashi,” you told her, thoroughly disappointed with her. “You just want him to push through to win one last grand slam? I won’t be responsible for–”

“I’m not asking you to be responsible for anything. I’m asking you to remind him why he loves the game. Just talk to him. You have a way of getting through to people, especially him,” Tashi insisted. She didn’t seem to grasp your concern, making you feel more distant from her than ever before. “You’re the strongest person I know. And I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe you could do it.” She reached out, placing a hand on yours. You felt the beads of her friendship bracelet on your fingers and flinched. “Please, Y/I. He needs you, we both do.”

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check. Your heart was heavy, and it hurt for Art. The fact that he was so unhappy in his career was concerning, especially when you had so many fond memories of him playing at Stanford and expressing how much he loved the sport. The weight of Tashi’s request settled over you like a dense fog. You weren’t sure how to navigate the murky waters of this situation.

You inhaled shakily. “Tashi, listen to me,” you said in a low tone, showing her that you weren’t messing around. “If Art is done, then he’s done.”

Tashi shook her head frantically. “No, wait–”

“He shouldn’t sacrifice his well-being for someone else’s expectations. Not yours, not the fans’, and certainly not mine.” Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, voice breaking slightly, “Even if everything you say is true, I would never force him to do something he doesn’t want for himself. You of all people should know why I won’t ever make someone play tennis when they’re finished with it.”

“This is different from what your mom did to you,” Tashi defended herself.

“It’s all the same when you’re living for someone else’s expectations and desires,” you replied. With shaking hands, you pushed Tashi away. “You don’t know what that’s like. It’s– it’s like swimming against a riptide and struggling to keep your head above water–” You exhaled shakily, the panic from those years returning momentarily– “And the water just keeps getting faster and pulling you under, but it doesn’t matter how much you fight because you’ve already lost yourself.” As the dam of your emotions finally broke, you felt the warmth of tears tracing down your cheeks. Your bottom lip trembled as you stood, staring down at Tashi. “I could never do that to anyone, especially not Art.”

“Y/N, wait! Just let me explain–”

You ignored Tashi, storming out of her hotel room. Your heart pounded with a mix of anger and pain from Tashi’s outrageous request, footsteps echoing down the living room as you let the door to the bedroom slam behind you. Each stride was fueled by the need to escape Tashi, and you wiped your face as you wrenched open the front door. Instead of looking out into the empty hallway, you immediately collided with a solid figure.

“Woah! Is everything– Y/N?” Art’s deep, familiar voice made you stare at him with wide eyes. He halted when he recognised you, and the typical expression of adoration kissed his face. Deep blue eyes wide and breath hitched, Art scanned your features like he couldn’t believe you were real.

The sight of him and everything Tashi had just told you brought a flood of overwhelming emotions crashing over you. When Art pulled you in for a hug, you didn’t fight it, letting him wrap his sturdy arms around you with a familiarity that almost mended the shattered pieces of your heart. Crying into his chest, the warmth and security of his embrace felt like a balm, soothing your raw emotions and momentarily making you feel whole again.

His familiar scent enveloped you, stirring a wave of nostalgia that made your chest tighten with comfort and longing. The warmth of his strong embrace felt like coming home, his heartbeat steady under your cheek, just like it always was. His whispered reassurances, soft and sincere, made the world outside fade into nothingness.

He was just Art, pure and unadulterated warmth.

As it turned out, Tashi was right. Now that he had seen you and held you, he didn’t want to let go of you again.

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐀, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 – 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔. 𝟑:𝟒𝟗𝐏𝐌.

“This is so much nicer than my dorm,” Art complained, falling onto your bed the second you led him into your room. You laughed at the ungraceful way he kicked off his sneakers and burrowed himself into your lilac-coloured bedding, relishing in the fresh, earthy, warm scent he now associated with you.

“That’s because some of us are into this new thing that makes places pretty and cosy so you don’t feel like you’re living in an empty shoebox,” you explained sarcastically, locking the door behind you and placing your backpack on the floor by your desk. “It’s called decorating.”

Art hummed, too busy admiring you sleepily from where he had buried his face in your pillows to banter with you. He watched you sit at your desk, your fingers deftly fixing your hair so you were more comfortable before you meticulously arranged your pens and notes. Smiling, Art marvelled at your concentration. Even though you had just returned from your shared Philosophy class, you were ready to prepare for the paper that was just assigned. Every detail – from how you furrowed your brow in thought to the pleased curve of your lips – made his heart swell with admiration. He loved that you loved studying. Seeing your passion and discipline ignited a warmth in his chest and a flutter in his stomach that he could never shake.

You could feel his gaze on you, a comforting presence that had become an integral part of your Thursday study routine, and it made you smile as you highlighted your assignment instructions. Art’s deep blue eyes, a steady and reassuring anchor, were woven into your day. They were a warmth you missed when he wasn’t around, and you tried not to let that terrifying realisation ruin your friendship. At this moment, with the peaceful quiet of the dorm and the shared warmth between you, you felt perfectly content, appreciating how your bond had grown into something so beautifully close over the last few weeks.

This had become your Thursday routine. You went to class together, grabbed a coffee or smoothie to reward Art for attending class, and then returned to your dorm, where you studied for an hour as he watched you. It had been nearly four weeks since the quarter started, and you and Art were tethered more closely than you and Tashi these days.

You and Tashi were assigned the same residence house when you arrived on campus at the end of September. Both of you were sure it was because Rinconada was a mere ten-minute walk from the tennis centre, which was convenient. After all, you had practice three times a week and team workouts on top of that. Even though it sounded like a lot, the off-season practice schedule at Stanford was far less rigorous than what your mother and coaches made you do in high school.

In fact, playing tennis at Stanford was far sweeter than you had pictured.

Being on the tennis team gave you a built-in community of other women your age and kept you close to Tashi at all times. Your room was just down the hall from her, and now you got to train with her almost every day. At times, your life at Stanford felt like it was orbiting tennis, but even that feeling disappeared after the first two weeks of classes. Without the pressure of your perfectionistic mother, you were actually enjoying tennis.

It allowed you to fall in love with the sport based on fun and community rather than competition.

Bumping into Art all over campus was inevitable.

He lived in the same residence hall as you – though not the same building – which meant you constantly saw him in the dining hall or during tennis team workouts. After a couple days of dodging him, you realised that Art was unavoidable and indulged in your desire to see him again. Once you discovered you shared your introduction to Philosophy class, you knew it would be better to be friends than avoid him.

Your classes were academically rigorous and thought-provoking, and Tashi and Art thought you fit right in. While the two of them were lucky if their attention spans let them take detailed notes for one class, you volunteered opinions and debated other students without holding back. The first time you responded to another student in your shared Philosophy class with Art, he couldn’t stop grinning at you. Somehow, you just belonged at Stanford. Your classmates and professors liked you, but not as much as the blond who sat beside you.

In just a month, Art had become a vital part of your college experience and daily routine, his presence seamlessly integrating into your life. Every time your eyes met, you saw his face light up, and a warm flush spread through you, making you feel cherished. Even after he said goodnight after dinner, his deep blue-eyed stare lingered in your mind.

While the sunny weather and friendly people at Stanford made the experience enjoyable, nothing compared to the comfort and contentment you felt with Art. His company grounded you in this new chapter of your life.

Most importantly, your conversations with Art didn’t all revolve around tennis. As much as you loved Tashi, she had become even more engrossed in tennis, and it was slowly the only thing she wanted to talk about. Art, on the other hand, wanted to talk about what you learned in class and had questions about how you grew up and your interests outside of tennis. It was refreshing to get to know someone so quickly, scratching below the surface and really understanding the depths of his personality.

“Do you ever get bored just lying there, staring at me?” you asked Art, glancing up from your notes to meet his irises. You felt a flutter in your stomach as you did, studying the glazed-over way he expressed his feelings. Somehow, you could tell simply by looking at Art that he was falling for you. You could see it on his face and in his body language. It made you terribly afraid, but you had nowhere to run when your lives at Stanford were so interlaced.

His lips curved into a charming smile that worsened the rapid beat of your heart. “How could I ever get bored when I’m with you?” Art argued, looking at you with nothing but utter devotion. “I’ll just tag along with you for the rest of our time at Stanford. By then, you’ll be so used to me that you won’t even question when I keep doing it afterwards.”

“You can’t just say things like that,” you whispered, avoiding his stare when it all became too much for you. “You’re betraying our unspoken agreement that we’re just going to forget the night in the hotel and be friends.”

Art chuckled, sitting up and letting your duvet fall, revealing his red Stanford tennis t-shirt. “We never agreed on that,” he pointed out.

“Hence the unspoken nature of the agreement,” you emphasised.

Art watched you closely, noting how your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt and how you kept biting your lower lip. Sometimes, when Art found himself getting a little too honest for your taste, your eyes would dart away from him, a dead giveaway of your inner turmoil. Knowing your tendency to avoid your feelings, Art felt a pang of frustration and longing. He really liked you and wished you would confront your emotions.

To make you smile, Art resorted to your usual way of escaping awkward situations: humour. “Would it help if I dyed my hair brown and started speaking in a Spanish accent?” he asked, referring to your favourite tennis player.

You scoffed, “Very funny, Arthur.”

Getting up from your desk, you approached your bed and playfully pushed Art’s chest. He caught your wrist and held it, smiling up at you with those devoted blue eyes of his. Slowly, Art let his fingers slide down your wrist to your palm, making you shiver as he intertwined your hands. A surge of warmth travelled up your arm. The gentle pressure of his fingers interlacing with yours felt both electrifying and soothing. Like a silent promise whispered through his touch.

“I made you something,” Art told you, his voice so soft and tender that you could only nod.

He rifled through the pocket of his jeans and held a friendship bracelet in his free palm. You let out a gleeful laugh as you picked it up, admiring the way Art had perfected the pattern necessary to make the beads on the bracelet look like a vine interlinked with pink flowers. In white beaded letters, he spelt the words DATE FRIDAY AT 7?

As Art waited for your reaction, his heart pounded with anticipation and dread, hoping you would appreciate the effort he put into making the bracelet. His hand trembled in yours, betraying the facade of calmness he tried to maintain as you inspected the delicate bracelet. Memories of the countless failed attempts flashed through his mind, each lost bead and snapped elastic a testament to his determination to create something special for you. Despite the hours spent perfecting the technique, doubt crept into his mind, questioning whether his creation would meet your expectations.

Yet, as you lifted your eyes and smiled at him, the weight of uncertainty lifted.

“Did you really make this for me?” you asked, bewildered that someone had taken the time to sit down and create something from scratch just for you.

Art nodded, heart warming when he saw tears of joy forming in your waterline. “Do you like it?” he wondered, trying not to let the insecurity he felt crawl its way into his voice.

You pulled your hand out of his and slipped the bracelet on, cupping his face and pulling him in for a desperate kiss that rivalled your first one. At that moment, all the pent-up emotions of the past month flooded to the surface, mingling with the warmth of your kiss. Art held you close, pulling you into his lap and holding your waist, relieved that you were finally allowing yourselves to express your feelings for each other. It was a kiss born of longing and desperation, imbued with the relief that one of you had finally decided to cross the line between friends and more than friends.

Dragging your fingers through his blond hair, you accidentally knocked the red Stanford tennis hat, which he wore backwards, from his head. You felt the vibration of his groan against your lips when you gently tugged on his curls and smiled, satisfied that you had elicited a reaction from him. He tilted your face and met your lips in an ardent kiss that left you shivering. You kissed Art over and over again, and it never felt like enough, no matter how many times you did it. He was everywhere. Touching your hips below your t-shirt, brushing your face gently with the pads of his thumbs, pulling you closer with a fervour you had never felt before. Art only broke for air to kiss down the expanse of your neck and across your collarbones as you sighed happily.

He pecked your lips once before leaning back and grinning. You almost wanted to cry seeing Art like this. His blond curls were windswept, and his lips were red and perfect, and it hurt that he was so beautiful. Pink dusted his cheekbones and chest, and his hands lightly ran up your thighs like in the hotel that night.

“I love it,” you answered Art’s question, indulging in a sweet kiss to emphasise your point. “Thank you, Art. Nobody’s ever…” You cleared your throat.

“I know,” Art admitted. He held your hand, brushing his thumb across the beads he had arranged and smiling. “You told me the night we met, at the party. I stand by what I said, they’re all idiots. You deserve the world, Y/N.”

Admittedly, the bracelet felt like a sign.

It gleamed in the sunlight, a delicate web of beads woven together with care and precision by Art’s hands, a tangible testament to his thoughtfulness and effort. As you admired it, a warmth spread through your body. It wasn’t just about the bracelet, but what it represented – the culmination of your shared moments and his genuine understanding of your passions.

Looking into his eyes, you felt a sense of belonging you had only known with Tashi in the past. With each glance at the bracelet adorning your wrist, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that it symbolised the beginning of something beautiful between you. It was as if all the puzzle pieces had finally clicked into place. In Art’s gesture, you found the courage to lower your defences. It didn’t feel necessary to run away now that he had been vulnerable with you.

It wasn’t just about the friendship bracelet but the unspoken promise of it. You truly believed that Art would cherish your heart as tenderly as he had crafted the beads on your wrist.

“So…” Art trailed off, laughing nervously. “I was supposed to give you that bracelet a few days ago, giving you more time to think about going on a date with me, but I lost my nerve so many times and now I’ve only given you 24 hours notice and I don’t want you to feel rushed, so–”

“Pick me up tomorrow at seven,” you interjected. “I’ll be waiting.”

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: October 25, 2006 Subject: Hello from the road

Y/N,

When little Artie told me that he had a girlfriend, I knew I had to find a loophole in our agreement and ask you what the hell you see in that guy. I mean, I know he’s good-looking, amazing at tennis, rich, and an overall decent guy, but I just don’t think he’s good enough for you. (Tone is hard to convey over email, I hope you know I’m kidding. I’m happy for the both of you, you’re one handsome couple) Since I asked Tashi for her number and therefore forfeited all rights to yours, I hope you don’t mind that I managed to swindle your email out of your boyfriend.

How are you? I bet you’re loving Stanford. You must walk into any room and have no shortage of admirers.

I would know. I was one of them.

Patrick

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: October 26, 2006 Subject: RE: Hello from the road

Dear Patrick,

It’s so great to hear from you! Tashi told me a little about your matches so far. Good to know you’re still kicking ass, even once you’ve gone pro. (Not that I expected anything less of THE Patrick Zweig.)

Technically, I’m not Art’s girlfriend. We’ve just been on a couple dates (which have, of course, been amazing) so we haven’t made anything official yet. Maybe once we hit the one-month mark, I’ll ask you for some advice? After all, you managed to bag Tashi Duncan, so you must be doing something right.

No admirers so far, although I wonder how many of them would dare to speak up when I’m usually flanked by Tashi and Art. Not the most welcoming sight, but they’re great. I love having them here. It makes everything feel more like home.

You’re right. I love it here. My English classes are amazing, and the professors are incredible. Everything is even better than I imagined. I’m taking a legal studies class that’s kicking my ass, but it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever studied. I know it’s only one class, but it’s really making me consider attending law school after all this. There’s just something about memorising all the cases and analysing the arguments that challenge me in a way I’ve never been challenged before.

This must all sound terribly boring to a literal pro tennis player. How are you doing? Are you getting along with the other guys on tour? Do you miss Tashi a lot? I bet you do. What city are you in? What city has been the worst so far?

Tell me everything!

Love, Y/N

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: October 28, 2006 Subject: RE: Hello from the road

Dear Y/N,

I think you’d make a brilliant lawyer. After all, you do have a comeback for everything.

I’m good, the tour isn’t exactly what I thought it would be, but it’s not bad. The other guys are okay. They’re no Art Donaldson, but they’ll have to be good enough for now. I do miss Tashi. I miss all of you. Right now, I’m in Nottingham, but I’m catching a flight to Louisville in a few hours. There’s a Challenger there in a couple days. On to Nashville after that. Every city’s been great so far, actually. No complaints from me.

I can just imagine Art and Tashi glaring at everyone who wants to approach you like they’re your bodyguards.

So much for not being your boyfriend, I heard otherwise! And you didn’t go on a couple dates, you’ve been on six dates. In two weeks. Sounds like Stanford’s nowhere near as hard as they say it is if you’ve got all this time for tennis and dating. (Again, hope you can tell that I’m joking)

To be honest, the constant travel and competition makes me feel a little lonely sometimes. I call Tashi whenever I can, but it’s not the same as being there with her in person. I’m constantly surrounded by people, but it’s all very disconnected, like I’m on the outside looking in. I feel like my life’s going by, and I’m watching it like a movie instead of doing things. Is that crazy? It sounds crazy. Without Art, the matches feel harder, and the victories don’t mean as much.

I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, you must be busy with practice and school. And I know you don’t want to talk about tennis.

I knew you would love Stanford. You’ve got that whole quiet contemplative thing about you that people at college really love. I could use some of that these days.

Patrick

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: October 28, 2006 Subject: RE: Hello from the road

Dear Patrick,

I know exactly how you feel. To be honest, that’s one of the reasons I’m so glad my mom let me quit playing tournaments while I’m in college. She doesn’t know that I’m quitting tennis after Stanford (and I can’t wait for that trainwreck of a conversation) but I used to feel so isolated and disconnected at those tournaments. People aren’t usually looking for friends, and all the constant competition made me feel more lonely than victorious.

I’m sorry you haven’t found your footing on tour yet. But you aren’t crazy, Patrick. You’re a great player and an even better guy, so I hope things start working out for you soon.

Just know that you’re more than your victories and losses. That’s what my dad used to tell me when I got too wrapped up in everything. Behind the tennis player, there’s a person.

Take some time off, go sightseeing, and ask the nicest person on tour to get coffee with you. And call Tashi and Art more because I know they love hearing from you. Maybe they’ll make you feel closer to home too, just like they do for me.

You may be right about me and Art. I guess I don’t want to be too hasty because I keep thinking I’m in some sort of dream, but then I look at him and he’s just… Art. Pure and unadulterated warmth.

Oh yeah, Stanford’s a cakewalk. All that stuff about it being hard and time-consuming is total bullshit. Once you’re here, professors just give you an A for showing up. (Can you tell that I’m joking? I’m in the library procrastinating an eight-page paper on a concept I barely understand. Send help!)

Art and Tashi are exactly like bodyguards! That’s the perfect way to say it!! They just have those faces that look so serious if they’re not smiling, and I guess that can be intimidating if you haven’t seen them so drunk off their asses that they cried when they found out that beavers mate for life, as I have.

Also, drunk Art really knows how to throw it back. Who knew he had all that cake on him?

Let me know if I can help in any way. As it turns out, tennis is a cruel lover but I keep coming back to it. The breakup with tennis is more of an on-again-off-again situationship. Too complicated to explain. But we don’t have to talk about tennis. I’m always around if you need to talk about anything.

Good luck in Louisville!! I hope you make some friends soon.

Love, Y/N

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: reader and art are so clearly so high school by taylor swift, especially “no one’s ever had me, not like you” and “you know how to ball, i know aristotle” ugh i love them 😭

#challengers #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x you #challengers movie #challengers fanfiction #challengers x reader #challengers fanfic #tashi duncan #mike faist x reader #josh o connor x reader #fic: guilty as sin?

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4unnyr0se · 2 days

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❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | tetsuro kuroo

warnings: timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, reader is his secretary, riding(?), unprotected sex, rough sex, implied multiple orgasms (f! receiving), reader acts innocent but is actually a slut, implied size kink, kuroo is rich asf argue with the wall

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 904

Sports promotions was an easy job once you knew what you were doing and who you were working with. Kuroo, being a former captain of a powerhouse team, already knew the trade fairly well. His division of volleyball promotions worked closely with people he once had games with, it was always a treat to mess with them over an expensive dinner that his company would pay for. There weren’t many women in that field, so whenever one was hired it caused a stir. Kuroo thought that the stir you were causing was stupid, but that was before he saw your pretty face.

You were behind a desk, typing away at your computer. You looked so innocent, humming a little tune as your tiny fingers typed away. He approached your desk and offered you a smirk, introducing himself. He noticed how you blushed when he looked at you, like a fawn being spotted by a wolf in the forest. Fuck, Kuroo thought that was so fucking hot. But he couldn’t do anything about that, he had too much respect for you. You were just so innocent, how could he defile you?

Turns out, you weren’t as innocent as he thought. Kuroo was mindlessly swiping on Tinder when your profile popped up, displaying your curves that were barely concealed by a little red clubbing dress. ‘Only on here for some fun <3’ was all your bio said, and that made Kuroo practically jump out of his bed. His finger slid right on the phone screen and the two of you matched, causing his cock to throb in his sweatpants. Finally, he had a in.

The harsh cracking of Kuroo’s hand against the supple skin of your ass filled his penthouse apartment, acompanied by the squelching noise of your pussy struggling to take his massive cock deeper. You had barely managed to get the tip inside, using all your strength to hover yourself above his lap. Kuroo leaned against his padded headboard, the same smirk from earlier adorning his face as he watched the lewd display in front of him. You had talked a big game in your earlier messages, so why were you struggling now. Perhaps you had bitten off more than you could chew when you decided to swipe right on his profile. “What, you’re having trouble taking all of me inside you? C’mon now baby, don’t be like that. Getting all shy again?” his words were laced with sarcasm as you shook your head, feeling your quivering legs about to give out. “I-I can take more, promise!”

Kuroo shook his head in disagreement, shifting his hands to they rested on your hips. “You looked so fucking slutty in those photos,” he teased, slamming your hips down further onto his cock. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth of length, breathing in your wanton and painful cries of pleasure and pain. “Gonna fuck you like a slut now, okay princess? Making me do all the work, typical.”

His hands slammed you up and down on his length, using your body like his own personal fleshlight. Your head was thrown back as your eyes focus on the ceiling above you, the chandelier sparking in the candlelight of his bedroom. Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, saliva dripping onto your swollen tits that were so carefully marked with Kuroo’s teeth. Just enough that you could still wear revealing clothes to work, showing the tiniest bit of cleavage.

His cock hit your G-spot perfectly each time, your sobbing cunt pulling him in deeper with each thrust inside of you. “Fuck, you’re fucking milking me baby,” Kuroo groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You want me to fill you up, huh? It that it princess? C’mon now, lemme hear you beg for my cum. Can you be a good little slut and do that, yeah? Don’t keep me waiting.” he punctuated his sentence with an incredible thrust, a wanton moan falling from your bruised lips.

“K-Kuroo! Wan’ your cum, fuck! P-please, please!” you patheically cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase in his mess of black hair. Your moans were so pretty and wet, how could he refuse his adorable little secretary? His release painted your insides with a roar, the warm sensation filling your stomach. He stopped bouncing you on his length, hands falling limp against his sides.

“Fuck,” was all that Kuroo could muster, smiling to himself as you collapsed onto his chest with his cock still nestled deep inside your creamy core. “I never knew you would be such a slut, you know? Thought you were a virgin or something.” he chuckled, kissing the side of your cheek.

“I might as well have been one, you’re fucking insane,” you mumbled against his skin, lifting your face up to look into his golden eyes. Your mascara was running and your hair was a damn mess, but Kuroo thought you had never looked as pretty as you do now. “You gotta give me some mercy next time, okay? Most girls aren’t used to your massive fucking cock.”

“Oh? There’s gonna be a next time?” Kuroo smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes in mock annoyance.

“Hell yeah there’s gonna be a next time, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” you smirked, playfully nipping at the cartilage of his ears.

“I can’t wait.”

#haikyuu smut #timeskip kuroo #tetsuro kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader

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ashwhowrites · 3 days

Note

Alright! So, Steve and Reader was in that stage when they're about to become a couple but then Nancy showed that on/off interest again and Steve pushed reader away. Nancy turned out to just feel lonely due to Jonathan being in California and didn't mean anything.

Steve now nurses hopes that Reader will give him another chance. Until he finds out through the grapewine (walkies) that Reader got dosed at a party but she called Eddie for help and he took her to the hospital.

And when Steve arrives, all hurt because she called Eddie and not him, she and Eddie is hugging and them finally telling each other they are in love. Leaving Steve standing there, contemplating what he's lost

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Runaway girl

Y/N and Steve were the hot new gossip around the town. People were shocked to hear that Steve was finally moving on from his past with Nancy. Many people didn't think it was possible, but Steve had his head turned and stuck on Y/N.

Y/N was happier than ever. She always had a soft spot for Steve, and with his pretty looks, it didn't take long to fall at his feet. She had been patient and waiting for the day they could be official. But she knew Steve needed time.

She wasn't sure how much time was too much time. After four months of dating, kissing, and being together, she thought he would ask by now. Doubt filled her the longer Steve didn't ask.

While Steve took his time, he was unaware of someone who didn't need time to figure out his feelings.

Eddie had his eyes set on Y/N for the last few months. Of course, to his luck, she was hooked on Steve's arm. Eddie knew there was no way he could beat out the pretty boy of Hawkins. So he settled for a friendship and kept his feelings to himself.

But he couldn't help but wonder what Steve's problem was, and why he dragged his feet. If Y/N was anywhere near into Eddie, he would have made the move before anyone else could. But it was Steve, and he probably knew no one would step on his toes.

~~~

Steve sat in his backyard, sharing a cigarette with Nancy. She popped over and Steve was never one to turn her down. He liked when she wanted to talk to him when she wanted to be in his presence. Truthfully, a part of him refused to give up on her, on them. He had this glimmer of hope that they were still tied together and that would help them find each other again.

"You and Y/N have been dating a while, gonna capitalize on that?" Nancy asked, exhaling the smoke as she passed the stick over.

Steve shrugged and inhaled the cigarette, wishing it would answer for him.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

Nancy nodded, a knowing look in her eyes

"How are you and Jonathan?" Steve asked, passing the stick back to her. He watched as her lips formed around the cigarette and her body intake the smoke.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I think we might break up."

Steve saw his glimmer of hope expanding right before his eyes

"How come?"

"The distance is so hard. I just think of when you and I were together. How easy it was to be in the same state and town." She sighed, her eyes looking into Steve's wanting ones.

Steve got lost in the familiar look in her eyes

"Too bad someone else has your attention now," she whispered before she looked away.

~~~

Y/N sighed as she dialed the familiar number

It rang once before he picked up

"Munson"

"Hey it's me, could you pick me up?" Y/N asked as she looked around the diner

"Deadbeat not show again?" Eddie said, he sounded annoyed and he deserved to be. He always had to pick her up when Steve decided to bail. "Where are you?" He asked, already grabbing his keys.

Eddie pulled up to see her sitting on the curb. She wore a simple shirt with jeans, but she was breathtaking.

She stood up once he parked. But he was already walking towards her. He opened his arms and she wrapped her arms around him. She held back her tears as she felt comfort in his warmth.

"Hungry?" He asked, his voice muffled in her hair

He felt her nod against his chest

"Well I know this great place and it's not too far away. Wanna join me?" He asked

She pulled back and smiled. Her heart skipped as he smiled back at her. Throughout all the pain Steve caused, Eddie was the one who healed her. She felt something towards him, something she wished she and Steve could have.

She accepted his hand and laughed when he walked them through the diner doors.

"Thanks for always helping me out," Y/N said, shyly looking up from her burger

"When are you going to push him to the curb? He's been toying with you for the past few weeks." Eddie sighed. It hurt him as much as it hurt her. But Steve would always be pulled in Nancy's direction.

"It's hard, Eddie. I put in so much work for him and me to work out, I struggle to just give up on it." Y/N sighed

"Listen, I'm saying this as a friend. I really care about you, and he doesn't. He doesn't love you and he's not going to. It'll forever be Nancy. And you deserve to be treasured for being you. You beat Nancy in my book any day." Eddie said as he reached forward and held her free hand.

"I'll never be her," Y/N said sadly

"And you don't need to be her to be loved."

Y/N looked up at Eddie and gave him a small smile. He was right, she could find someone who loved her for her

And he was sitting across from her

~~~

Y/N wasn't sure why she attended the party. She wasn't one to get trashed on the weekends but Eddie was busy and she didn't want to be alone.

Her life had picked up ever since she gave up on Steve. He wanted to push her away so she made it easier. Eddie was what she needed and boy did she want him. He was gorgeous, inside and out.

His humor always made her laugh, she never felt sad around him. His smile froze her in the spot but made her stomach flutter when he pressed it against her lips. It's been months and months of feeling wanted and loved. But she found herself in that same spot, wondering when they'd speak about their feelings and make it official.

With all that on her mind, she needed a way to let loose. She planned one drink or two. But somehow the first drink had her thrown off. She could feel her skin melting in sweat, her head pounded and she felt the need to throw up everything she ever ate.

She found the closest phone and dialed someone she knew would show up.

Steve sat on his couch as he ate a slice of pizza. The gang was eating a quick dinner before the boys would leave for hellfire, Dustin was already with Eddie. Which bugged Steve, but whatever. Nancy wasn't around, she went to California to save her relationship. Leaving Steve an idiot once more.

"HELLFIRE CANCELED. Y/N IS IN THE HOSPITAL"

Steve's ears rang as the walkie traveled through the living room. Panic in everyone's eyes are they flew off the couch.

Steve felt like he was transported to the hospital, he barely remembered leaving his house. He knew he just had to get to her. He felt anxiety taking over as he raced through the halls. He never worried about losing her, but now it was all he feared.

He found her room but froze as Eddie sat on the chair next to her. He zoned in on their hands intertwined and how close his face was to hers.

When the fuck did that happen?

"I'm so glad you called me. Happy you are safe and with me." Eddie said, Steve felt the blow to his chest. She called Eddie? Since when did she have Eddie's number.

"I was so scared and all I wanted was for you to be there." Y/N cried, the events still creating tears in her eyes. Eddie pulled her into a hug. Squeezing her tight to remind her he was there now

"I love you so much, and I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here." She sobbed

Steve felt his heart tug

He was so lost in making sure Nancy wouldn't leave, he forgot that Y/N could too. He figured he'd win her back like he always did. A sorry smile and puppy eyes, saying he won't do it again. But they both knew he would.

"I love you too,"

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat as they shared a tearful kiss

"Oh good you're here!" Dustin said relieved as he ran into Steve, standing outside her door.

"I'm just leaving" Steve snapped as he walked out.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #steve harrigton x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve Harrington angst #steve Harrington angst x reader #steve harrington requests

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ace-disgrace-on-the-case · 1 day

Text

RE: Battery Acid Spaghetti

Or: The Horrors Persist and I am Too Stupid to Read the Writing on the Wall

Ok so we all know the post right. Battery Acid Spaghetti. Take a cheap energy drink, sour strips, mix it up. Boom. Everyone just says “do not do this.”

Would you like to know why? Because I just did it, feel like absolute hell and think y’all deserve to know.

Okay so. I mixed it and as many mentioned it began to form a skin of caky white powder on the surface of the drink. Okay, I thought. Strange but probably harmless. That was my mistake. And so I started to drink.

I didn’t leave it to sit, so the first sips tasted completely normal. As I went on, though, it began to taste more and more metallic, like I was drinking a brick of lead and not some several metric tons of cheap gas station sugar. It felt dry in my mouth, silky, like it wanted to slither down my throat, and I was all too willing to let it. It was unpleasant to let the taste linger.

But bravely I forged on. My teeth ached from the effort. That metallic taste began to taste faintly of blood. As I ate the last strips of candy at the bottom of the glass, it began to turn to mush in my mouth, a sickly mucus that I should have understood then to be an Omen of the kind of mistake I made. My stomach hurt slightly.

Over the course of the next hour, it got worse. From a sense of nausea, onward bravely past slightly discomfort and into a sharp, overwhelming pain in my gut. As I ran up the stairs and to the bathroom I felt dizzy, beginning to sweat in what honestly could be described as the beginnings of shock.

I have been sitting by the toilet for at least the past 20 minutes, trying and failing to vomit.

So, heed my words, O internet traveler. And those of so many who met a similar fate before me.

No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here.

Do Not Do This.

#post #battery acid spaghetti #please for the love of all things holy don’t do this

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enwoso · 3 days

Note

Ooh a bit of an angsty one!

Can we have something about when Alessia transferred from United to Arsenal and how grumpy reacted to the fans (not all fans but quite a lot of them) turning on Alessia?

Something about the transition period and how they adjusted to the new club please!

Love your writing so much!

FOR THE BETTER — alessia russo x child!reader

sorry to whoever requested this that it has taken me so long, i do apologise! this was supposed to be out last week but then i was ill and then life was busy so it’s been a bit delayed but hey better late than never eh?

ALSO thank you all for 400 followers i love and appreciate each and every one of you all<3🥹

navigation -> grumpy universe masterlist

the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind for alessia but even more so for you. you weren't used to change nor were you a big fan of change.

you'd had basically the same routine your entire life. same bedtime, same favourite teddy, same favourite colour, same amount of sweets you were allowed before bed.

it was all you had ever known and so was manchester.

so when you got home from being australia it was a little weird to you not be going back home with your auntie ella and the other united girls like you usually would after an england camp.

when leaving for the world cup you didn't realise that, that was going to be the last time you were going to be in that home in manchester, the last time you would wake up in that home.

instead, this time you were going back with lotte and the other girls who lived in london for some strange reason unknown to you.

"mummy! where auntie ella going?" you asked as sat on top of the trolley of suitcases as alessia had went to say goodbye to her best friend not knowing when she would next see her.

"back to manchester lovie" she smiled softly, her voice a little shaky. your eyebrows knitted together a litttle, "why we not go with her, we live dere too!" you pouted, your face struck with confusion.

"lovie, we had this talk before we went to australia" alessia had stopped in the airport, dismissing lotte who stood waiting for her. signalling that you'd catch them back up.

"talk?"

"about mummy,, moving to a new club" the blonde spoke calmly trying to re jog your little memory as your mouth opened to an 'o' shape. realisation hitting you that change was happening as the talk memory appeared back into your head.

"your here, i thought you were watching tv in my room" you jumped a little at the sound of your mummy's voice as she came into your room. you'd been playing a game with your dolls on your bedroom floor.

"you wan be this one?" you asked holding up a doll towards your mum as she smiled, nodding and joined you on your bedroom floor.

"before we play though, i actually need to talk to you" your mum sounded serious as a frown appeared on your face, mummy only ever wanted to 'talk' when you had done something you were not supposed to of.

"oh- your not in trouble lovie"

"so mummy has been asked to join a new football club, called arsenal" she explained to you as the doll in your hand dropped slightly. a slight silence filling the room.

"you still play here?" you asked as your mum shook her head, "no lovie it means we have to move down to london"

you paused for a minute, it processing in your head "oh, but who play tag with after training?" you sadly smiled, you would play tag with millie and ona after each training session.

"i'm sure many of the girls will love playing tag with you, beth and leah play there too" mummy said as you looked back up from the ground.

"from england?" you asked as mummy nodded. it took a little convincing from you but once alessia had assured you, after you were a bit hesitant you agreed and didn't feel as sad about leaving manchester.

since the day in the airport, you had settled into your new home in london. it had already been better than manchester as you already seeing your uncles and grandparents more in the past week than you had the entire time that you lived in manchester.

you had made friends at your new nursery, settling in quick — quicker than alessia expected. as well as decorating your room the colour you wanted as well as picking out a new bed, which mummy had described to you as being your first big girl bed.

alessia of course had already started training for preseason. however you hadn't had a chance to go to training with being at nursery so today would be the first time meeting your mummy's teammates.

you were scared.

you don't remember meeting the united girls, to you they had always been there. but mummy said that was because you were just a baby when you first met those girls.

walking hand in hand with your mummy, your other hand holding your elephant teddy, esme which you'd had since you were really little held close and tight to your chest.

your mummy leading you to where she would put her training bag away, along with your bag before leading you down the long corridors to where the team was having lunch.

the arsenal girls knew that you were coming today and had asked alessia what was the best way to introduce themselves to you, not wanting to make you feel overwhelmed by all the new faces.

alessia suggesting that it be one by one as you weren't the biggest fan of big crowds and being fussed over.

you tugged on your mums arm, asking to be picked up as she did placing you on her hip as she walked deeper into the room. there being a few faces which you recognised that being the three england girls but once you spotted some of the other girls you hid your face deep in your mum's neck.

"oh is that you tiny?" beth beamed as you kept your face hidden feeling the movement of alessia sitting down. her hand rubbing up and down your back to try and soothe you, hoping you would come out from your little shell you'd put yourself in.

"she's gone all shy" alessia shrugged as she tried to peel you from your hiding spot, only whines coming from you as you dug your face deeper into her chest.

"shy? if there's one thing tiny isn't and that's shy!" you heard leah say, as well as your mum hum as she nodded her head in agreement.

it was true when you had the chance you could easily talk for england and would most definitely come away with a gold medal in that type of competition. alessia had her brothers and ella to thank for your chattiness even though she loved to hear you ramble on about anything and everything.

“tiny! do you want to see these photos of myle?” beth tried this time, you had been obsessed with the little puppy that beth had just gotten. myle was so small and any time you were at beth’s you would sit and talk to myle — you considered myle to be one of your best friends since you’d moved to arsenal as she too was getting used to all the new faces just like you were.

this seemed to do the trick as you slowly peeled yourself from your mums chest, half your face turning to look at beth, as the other half was covered with your grey elephant teddy. beth who was on her phone more than likely looking for the photos.

you looked up to your mum still unsure as you could see out the corner of your eye the unknown faces of your mummy’s new teammates. your mummy smiling nodding her head enthusiastically as you slowly climbed down from her lap and over to beth who was sat in between leah and viv.

you fingers in your mouth, you other hand having esme the elephant in it as you walked nervously over to beth, standing next to her as she lifted you onto her lap.

her phone screen in front of you as she showed you an arrange of photos of myle, some with a little scarf wrapped around her collar, some of her just lying asleep around beth and viv’s apartment and the rest were myle with some of the girls who were sat in the room with you right now.

“who dat?” you pointed to one of the girls who was holding myle another one of the girls sat next to her as your face scrunched at the unknown people.

“that’s vic and steph, look their over there!” beth pointed the two girls out as they both noticed you looking at them sending you a small wave, as you returned it. alessia watching on as she talked with leah and viv a smile appearing on the blondes face as she watched you slowly come out of your shell.

beth carried on swiping through the photos as you had now learned who kyra, katie, caitlin and stina were sending them all a small shy wave as beth pointed them out in the canteen.

“who dis?” you pointed to the girl in the photo as beth has swiped to the next photo.

“and that’s lia” beth smiled as you looked at her confused, “no that not leah? le there” you frowned as you pointed to the blonde leah who was sat with your mum across the table from you.

beth chuckling lightly at your little misunderstanding, “no tiny, there’s another lia! look there” beth pointed to the other lia as you awh in realisation, sending the lia a little wave like you’d done with the other girls.

“there two leah’s?” you turn to look at beth, who nodded with a smile on her face.

beth carried on, pointing out each of the arsenal girls as you did your signature shy wave at them as beth felt a slight feeling of accomplishment that you’d began to come out your shell, yes you may have not actually met the girls properly but you’d been introduced to and anyway there was plenty of time for you to meet them, the arsenal girls would not only becoming your mummy’s new teammates but they in time would become part of your family.

alessia had now been at arsenal for a few months now and you both had fully settled in, your home in london had finally come together and your room was fully decorated and in your opinion a lot better than your room in manchester.

and now the league had started and you’d now become fully acquainted with all the girls and as your mum had expected once you’d come out your shell, you loved them all.

after beth sat you down and showed you all the girls, it took you a few days to learn all there faces but you had now learned all about them and they had learned all about you and your little habits too.

katie who you learned was irish and had an accent that you found funny as she would say some words funny like the word three always had you in stitches as it sounded like tree, she was cool too as she would let you get away with being a little naughty sometimes.

caitlin, steph and kyra were all australian, they all had a funny accent to you too but the three of them were all different. caitlin was quiet but she would always let you pass the ball to her and play tag with you once training was done.

steph would let you talk to her as she answered all your questions you had about australia especially after just spending the summer there. and kyra well she would help you cause trouble, she would always sit with you and colour as well as dance around the changing room with you when the music was on.

vic was someone who mummy would sometimes take to training, and who mummy would spent a lot of time with when at training. vic was dutch just like viv. and vic wasn’t a big fan of mummy’s driving and on a morning when you were going to training with the as you sat in the back vic would sometimes sit and complain about mummy’s driving as you would sit in the back in your car seat giggling.

and for lia it had taken you a few days to wrap your head around there being two leah’s as in your mind you had only met one leah and that was blonde leah. so you had decided to give them your own nicknames, leah one and lia two just so you didn’t get confused.

as for the rest of the girls they had all been very welcoming to you and your mummy, helping you both to fit in.

and now it was onto the second match of the season against manchester united, the first time alessia was going to be back since she left. to say she was a little nervous was an understatement but she was trying her best not to show it.

“you okay?” lotte asked knowing how much the blonde had been dreading this fixture to come, and it being so early on in the season was not helping. as she walked into the leigh sports village with alessia, you following suit next to her.

wearing your new arsenal shirt, russo printed on the back in big white capital letters over the top of your hoodie it being a cold october night down in manchester something alessia definitely wasn’t missing since moving back down south.

alessia didn’t say anything just nod as she looked over to her england teammate, her lip bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes making sure not to loose you as you three reached the changing room.

you sat on the bench quietly watching your ipad munching on a few snacks you’d been given as your mummy got changed and did her pre match routine.

“mummy?” you looked up from your ipad, your mum doing her hair as you watched her wrap her bobble around her bun. “yes lovie?” she smiled at you.

“we see auntie ella and mazza?” you asked, you knew that arsenal were playing manchester united as you had overheard mummy talking to auntie ella on the phone you then interrupting and talking to ella and how you were excited to see her after a few months not yet being totally used to not seeing her every single day of the week.

the excitement following through the entire week as it was all you had spoken about to anyone you’d seen, even the staff at your nurseries knew.

“after the game we can, i’m sure they are both just excited to see you” she smiled as you nodded excitedly, you little legs swinging from the bench as mummy kissed the top of your head before smoothing out her kit to change into, your attention going back to your ipad.

the match had now begun and was just nearing half time and you were sat with leah one who had come down on the bus with the team, but she still had a big ouchie on her knee meaning she couldn’t play.

you were wrapped in a blanket with your big thick puffer on which mummy had made sure to zip right up before she ran onto the pitch.

watching with a smile, but that smile quickly dropped as then you noticed.

the manchester united fans were booing your mummy. the same fans which would cheer and shout her name while asking her to sign and take photos with her just a few months ago. they were now booing.

the first time you thought maybe it was just a mistake, but then it happened again. every time your mummy touched the ball, they booed.

“why they booing?” you asked, as leah frowned not knowing how to exactly explain it to you but she could tell it was upsetting you.

“i’m not sure tiny” leah sighed as she pulled you onto her lap so you had a better view of the pitch. making sure your blanket was kept around you to keep you from the crisp cold air.

“me no like it” you huffed, a frown not replacing the smile that was on your face moments ago.

“it’s okay, look your mummy’s got the ball, she might score!” leah tried to turn your focus away from the sound of the booing but that’s all you could hear, it was ringing through your ears.

“stop! make it stop le!” you whined shoving your head into her chest as your fingers went into your ears. leah’s heart dropping as she watched you start to cry, deciding it was probably best to take you into back inside away from all the noise.

alessia watched each step that leah took, you in her arms. your face hidden, alessia knew straight away that the noise of the booing as well as the nasty chants were upsetting you. alessia had learned with time to block them out when she was playing but you were young and took things more sensitively.

leah had turned back to try and catch alessia’s eyes, quickly realising alessia was already watching leah. alessia mouthing a quick, ‘is she okay?’ knowing that was probably a silly thing to ask but she did always before running to get the ball from katie, still noticing the quick thumbs up that leah threw towards alessia.

the booing only spurred alessia on more, wanting to play that well that it would silence them. something the travelling arsenal fans had been good at, chanting louder than the many home fans.

leah took you back into the changing room just after half time has finished doing her best to calm you down and distract you — it taking a few laps around the inside of the stadium and a trip to the food van before the tears stopped.

back in the changing room, you sat down on the bench, your ipad propped up as you both began to watch a cartoon as you placed your blanket across your legs and leah knees being extra careful to not hurt her ouchie on her knee.

you both being very consumed by the bright light of the ipad screen you both didn’t even hear the sound of the changing room door go, the girls beginning to pile in at the end of the match.

“hey lovie” you mum cooed softly, placing a hand on your head slightly startling both you and leah. but you were quickly jumping into her arms as she twirled you around.

“you okay now?” she asked softly as you nodded, your arms wrapped around your mummy’s neck not wanting to let go. alessia rubbing her hand up and down your back as you placed a little kiss on your cheek, mouthing a thank you to leah who smiled nodding her head.

“good” alessia whispered, as you let go from hugging you mum as you sat on her hip. “why were they booing” you asked innocently, the same frown appearing from earlier, since you didn’t get a proper answer from leah, you might from mummy.

“there just upset i left that’s all lovie, there silly anyway and there nothing you-” your mummy began as your frown still stayed, “-need to worry about, okay” she finished booping your nose a small smile flashing on your lips.

“i know you love me and that’s all that matters” mummy told you with a smile as you nodded.

“now we need that smile to come back, cause i don’t think auntie ella and mazza will want to see you all grumpy!”

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ask-the-pioneer · 2 days

Text

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

#rain world #rain world oc #rain world au #rw pioneer #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #rw hunter #slugcat #slugpup #rw iterator #artificer's pups #ask blog #GATHER 'ROUND FOR A BEDTIME STORY #au lore #im going to crawl into a hole now and hibernate for a couple of days

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moonydustx · 2 days

Text

a/n: just leaving it here

How does it feel?

warnings: smut, porn with no plot. Law "teaching" F!Reader how to have orgasms. without many warnings to avoid spoilers.

Law x F!Reader

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

MDNI | MINOR DO NOT INTERACT

Law found it funny how escalating a conversation between his friends - coincidentally also his crewmates - could escalate.

It had started with each person commenting something about the most recent island they had visited, the chat continued until the topic became about Shachi having met a woman, staying with her and she said that she had had the best night of her life and then she charged him for the services. Finally, the subject that had left him uneasy: orgasms.

His uneasiness was directed at you and how you claimed you had never had one. That your previous companions didn't seem too concerned about it and you had never been able to get close to the height of your pleasure not even by yourself. You and Law were nothing more than a few stolen kisses when you were both high or when a certain need struck. You had never gone beyond that, you had never assumed anything either. But Law couldn't get it out of his head.

That was when he convinced you to accompany him to the bedroom and as soon as the door closed behind you, he took your lips in a kiss that, no matter how much you both denied it, was full of feeling on both sides.

"Can I help you with that?" he asked and saw you looked lost. "With the orgasm thing."

"Oh." was the only thing that seemed to come out of your lips. Your mind was going haywire with the information.

"I'll understand if you don't want to. I mean, it's a strange request, isn't it?" Law almost let his nervousness get the better of him. "I just want to make you feel good and I don't intend on actually reaching the end and..."

"Please." the request didn't seem clear to him, so you insisted. "Please give me an orgasm."

A growl escaped Law's lips and he had to control himself. The focus was on you and only your pleasure that night. After you discovered what it was like to actually get there, he would let you choose whether you wanted to continue feeling that way with him.

"Take off your uniform." Law took a few steps back and sat down on the bed.

He watched you take off your outfit and remain in just a thin blouse and panties. A sight that pleased him enough. He leaned against the headboard and tapped the padded spot in front of him and you promptly complied, sitting up and letting his arms wrap around you.

"What do you plan captain?" you turned your face so you could face him.

"First, no captain here." he pointed out. "I plan to teach you how to get there. And then you can do it yourself or teach your future partners." the idea sounded bitter on his lips, but he didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation.

"So where do we start?"

"This way."

He gently held your face and started kissing you. Calmly, he felt you snuggle even closer to him. Almost like an authorization for him to sink deeper into your mouth.

While his tongue massaged yours, eliciting small murmurs that vibrated between you, one of his hands kept you trapped in the kiss, cupping your face. The other walked around your body, running down the sides of your skin, down your thighs. You squeezed your legs, trying to find some relief from the heat that was starting to accumulate there.

"A kiss is a good way to start." He pulled away just enough to comment, returning to your lips for a few more seconds. "When it's about you, a kiss is a good thing for any occasion."

"Don't say things like that." you moved away from his lips almost definitively, your head lolling just enough to rest against his chest.

The sight - almost as sinful as his own thoughts - was something to behold. You were there waiting for him to start showing you what pleasure was. One of his hands continued to trace some incoherent patterns on your skin, while the other wandered over your hardened nipple.

"Women are a little different from men in this regard." now avoiding touching your nipple through the thin fabric of the shirt, he just circled the areola. "Some are extremely sensitive at this point, others not so much, for some it also depends on the period of the cycle."

This time, he suddenly ran his thumb firmly over your nipple, your back letting you touch his chest for a brief moment, just to seek more contact.

"I see you fit into the first group."

"And what does that mean?" the question sounded innocent and silly, but it was difficult to think with Law so close to you, where you needed him.

Both of his hands came up enough to remove the straps of your blouse and expose your breasts.

"It means I can have some fun with them." he need to focus this was about you and not him. "So fucking beautiful."

His fingers gently slid over the two highlighted points. First he caressed your nipples gently, testing to see how much more you might want. Seeing you tighten your thighs even more and move a little in search of friction, Law captured both nipples between his fingers, eliciting an intense gasp from you.

Since the position didn't allow him to taste it directly on his lips, he at least tried to simulate the sensation for you. The hands that were previously on your nipples briefly went to his mouth and were bathed in saliva. In a calculated movement, Law placed his wet fingers back on your nipples just as his mouth closed on your neck in a wet kiss. A no longer so shy moan escaped you and made his dick twitch inside the pants he was wearing.

"Law, this...this feels good." your body arched against his fingers.

"I bet I could make you cum with just that." his lips untied themselves from you only to speak softly in your ear. "I will do this next time."

His hands allowed themselves to slide down your body again, now exciting a more breathless version of you. Law took his hands to your bare thighs and after caressing them, he gently opened them, placing them on top of his legs. Even though you were still covered by your panties, you felt exposed.

"Most women don't like to get straight to the point. Teasing can help make things more interesting." His hands ran up your inner thighs, raising goosebumps.

"I don't think provoking is the best option." you tried to sound firm, but your voice came out more breathless than you expected.

"This tells me otherwise." without hesitation, two firm fingers pressed your damp panties. "This pretty pussy is so wet just from me teasing you a little."

"Please Law." you tried to move against his fingers, which were now sliding along the sides of your intimacy.

"Did you know that the labia majora also have nerve endings?" he pointed out, ignoring your plea and letting his fingers slide. "Some stimulus can help."

His movement stopped for a brief moment, so brief that you were unable to ask why he had stopped or to contain your moan when you felt him touch through your panties where you needed it most.

"But they're not as sensitive as this one." Law started to make small circles over where your clit was. When he looked at your face, he could see that you had brought both hands to cover your mouth, your nails digging into your own cheek. "Room. Silence." he saw your eyes look around briefly. "Just let me hear you, please."

As soon as the blue dome formed around you, Law deftly removed your hands from your lips and covered them with his own mouth. His tongue invaded your mouth shamelessly while his movements over the damp fabric of your panties became a little faster. Your hands tried to hold on to him as best you could and even with him kissing you so voraciously, your moans still found space to remain there against his lips. Again, he stopped his movements and moved away from your lips just enough to find your attentive eyes, dilated pupils and reddened lips.

"I'll buy you another one. As many as you want."

Instead of explaining why, you just felt his two hands force the fabric of your panties and it split into some pieces.

The touch of his fingers directly against your little bud could be enough for Law to have his own orgasm there. More exciting than that was just seeing your eyes closing in front of his, a loud moan escaping your lips at such a short distance from him. Heavens, that was a little bit of paradise he thought he'd never taste.

"I need more Law, more please." you turned to him again, but one of your hands remained tied to the back of his neck. "It feels so good, so fucking good."

"Fuck" he murmured against the skin of your neck as his fingers slid easily to your entrance. The warm wetness against his fingers left him on the verge of irrationality. Gently, he slowly penetrated you with his middle finger, your fingers against the back of his neck held tight to Law's dark strands of hair. "That's a good girl, I can feel you squeeze me. Is that what you wanted?"

"D-Don't stop Law, please." you involuntarily moved your hips against the back and forth of his finger, searching for more and more.

"I won't stop, babe, I won't." Law removed his entire finger and added his ring finger, slowly penetrating them again. The way you moved your hips against his fingers - and against his cock behind you - indicated that you wouldn't last long. "You're taking me so good, pussy so fucking tight."

“Law, I just…” as soon as his fingers pressed against your g-spot, a sharp scream left you. A knot beginning to tighten and burn inside you. "Fuck, that's it. I c-can feel something, I think… Law, please."

Seeing you start to lose control of your hips and tighten even more inside your pussy, Law knew he needed little for you to get there - and to be quite honest, he was about to reach an untouched orgasm himself.

"Stop holding back." His voice came out as a whisper at the edge of your ear, using the palm of his hand to stimulate your clitoris, your increasingly intense moans were a melody for him. "I can feel you squeezing me, begging for more. Come on, give it to me, let me feel you come. Just for me, okay? You're going to do this just for me."

"Law!" With one last moan from you, Law could feel you squeeze him hard and the fingers inside you become drenched as your body softened against his arms.

Giving a few more gentle caresses against your intimacy, Law took his hand away from you and had to dare the urge to put his fingers to his own lips. He would have the chance to taste you and when he does, he will taste it straight from the source itself.

Seeing your tired form nestled against his chest, Law let the caresses against your body be softer and without any trace of malice, just as his lips placed some chaste kisses on the top of your head.

"Thanks for trusting me." You smiled at his thanks, taking one of his hands and placing a small kiss on it. "So... how does it feel?"

"I feel like a teenager, but..." his gaze directed yours to the wet spot on his light pants. "Feeling you and hearing you was a little too much for me."

"It felt so good, I've never felt that before." you adjusted yourself just enough to meet his lips.

"Yes, it was great."

"I'm sorry for not making it up to you." you pointed out and saw a light laugh escape his lips. "What?"

You both laughed for a brief moment, enjoying the little bubble of affection that seemed to be surrounding you.

"Law?" his murmur indicated that he was paying attention. "You must be pretty experienced, right? To know all this."

"Not so much." his fingers intertwined with yours. "Part of it I know because I'm a doctor, so it's easier to know how bodies work. And part of it is because I've seen it in some books."

You just nodded and snuggled into him, his fingers were distracted playing with yours. This time, just like you had done, he called your name and you just mumbled back.

"What I said before." it was strange, but Law felt a little shy about bringing the subject on board. "I take back what I said. I wanted this – what you felt today – to happen just to me and not to other partners."

"It's okay. I also want you to be the one to do this to me."

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law

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melancholy-valley · 2 days

Text

hiii, this has been stuck on my head for days so i just had to write it.

word count: 1.7k words

pairing: prohero!iida x afab!reader

cw: sorry this is a lot of just smut.. no real plot

not proofread, sorrryyyy :’)

ProHero!Iida who was never one for intimacy. He was always too busy with work and running his firm, never having time to look into relationships aside from the practicality that they could bring; double incomes, continuing bloodlines. They weren’t his thing.

ProHero!Iida who’s attention was captured by you, the newest hire at the firm. Something about the way you carried yourself was so captivating to the young hero.

ProHero!Iida who found himself sneaking unnoticed glances at you when he could. Making excuses to talk to you when in the office. He figured he would wait for you to take initiative, show some interest. After all, relationships weren’t his thing.

ProHero!Iida who noticed his glances getting returned, met with a smile from your pink glossed lips. Starting more idle conversations, too distracted by the sweet notes of your perfume to speak of anything notable.

ProHero!Iida who slowly works up the courage to ask you to drinks one night, having much more of a fun and special night than he could have ever expected. The mood between the two of you at work had uplifted, being much more light for the two of you.

Drinks now becoming a common meeting place for the both of you after work or on the weekends. Iida, after many pep talks in the mirror, had now begun to muster up the courage to ask you to something more formal, more personal.

“[Name]! Good thing I caught you.” Iida spoke, catching you as you were headed toward the door. “Hm?”

“Apologies, but would you..like to go to dinner with me tonight?” He trembled just a bit.

He cut the silence that followed, thinking he may have gone too far.

“Well, I understand you had a long day actually- I’m sorry for asking so soon, it must be-”

“I would love to!” You interrupted. “That sounds very fun Iida, what time works?”

He smiled, a newfound passion filling him.

ProHero!Iida who couldn’t deny the feelings he had for you anymore, especially after your dinner. Acting like an excited teen boy, letting his desires and thoughts of you consume him deep into the night, later than he would ever think of staying up. Pants and whines filled the hero’s dark room as he palmed his length through his boxers. He felt so..dirty touching himself to his dear colleague. At the same time, he couldn’t help himself. You were the first person he had felt this way about. A heavy sigh left his parted lips as he finished into a nearby towel, still thinking about you.

ProHero!Iida who, now more than ever, wanted to be around you. You had gone on multiple dates with the broad hero, your feelings growing stronger day by day, as were his. One night though, when the two of you were getting ready to leave the restaurant Iida you had just eaten at, he invited you over.

“[Name].. There is something I have been meaning to ask you. If you are comfortable with it, would you accompany me back to my house?” He avoided eye contact and rubbed his arm nervously, expecting rejection.

You were flushed, not knowing what to expect. With how you felt about him, there was no way you could say no. So, you smiled and accepted.

ProHero!Iida who led you into his home, making sure to offer any comfort he could. Drink? Blanket? Was the light too bright? Too dark? You sat down on a couch in the main room, him following next to you.

“[Name], truth be told, I don’t know exactly how to say this.” he started, “I..when I wake up in the morning I think of you. I think of you until I walk into the firm and see you smiling, and the second you’re out of sight I cannot help but let my thoughts continue. You are so dear to me, and I’m not sure I have ever felt like this for anyone. You consume my very being, and I brought you here to tell you that I, I have feelings for you. Feelings that are too strong to hide anymore.”

You couldn’t hide your smile, feeling the same exact way as him. Not to mention how sweet and personal his confession was.

“Tenya,” You paused, searching for the right words to say, “you have no idea what those words mean to me. I would be lying if I said I had no feelings for you, and it makes me so happy to hear that you feel the same.”

ProHero!Iida who couldn’t believe the words that escaped your mouth. His breath hitched, and he found himself scooting closer to you on the couch. The two of you were now painfully close, the room filled with the slow breathing coming from you. Then he asked.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

And all at once he cupped your face and met your lips with his. It started off slow, an innocent deep peck. The kiss deepened and his hands moved from your face, snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

He pulled away. “[Name].. please,” he spoke, keeping eye contact. “I need you. Let me have you, please.” his voice was now filled with desperation. He made his way to your lips again, then your cheeks, feathering slow kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“Tenya..” you breathed.

“Do you want me to stop?” He pulled back.

“No, keep going..please.” You whined. You knew how pathetic it sounded, but you couldn’t help the growing heat in your lower belly. You needed to feel relief.

ProHero!Iida who leads the two of you to the bedroom, laying you down. Who takes his time removing each layer of clothing, leaving small kisses in between. The sight of you under him, red and covered by nothing more than a sheer bra and matching panties.

He noticed your attempt to rub your thighs together, trying to relieve the growing pressure.

He smiled, “Let me help you.” He searched for permission in your eyes, only proceeding when you nodded yes.

He wasted no time, dipping his hand into your panties, fingers teasing at your slit. “You’re so wet [Name]..” He rubbed your slick around, finally taking one of his fingers and dipping it inside of you, curling it ever so slightly.

“F-fuck Tenya..” you cursed, embarrassed that all it took to get you hot and bothered was a single finger. He brought his other hand under your bra, prodding at the hardening bud. The combination of pleasure surging through your nerves was almost too much to handle. You already felt yourself nearing your finish. You couldn’t help but whimper under him.

He smiled, knowing he had to be doing something right, and slid another digit in. Watching your face contort as you came undone from just two of his fingers inside you. You grinded your hips down on his hand, needing that final push before you could finish. Your orgasm soon came crashing down on you.

“Oh I’m-!”

“Goooood, that’s good. Ride it out.”

He watched your body intently, noticing how your back curved as your orgasm surged through you.

Your moans were replaced with heavy breathing as he pulled his fingers out and stood up, beginning to undress. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him when he got down to just his boxers, tenting as his erection pressed almost painfully against the fabric.

And he was…big.

You too stood up and made your way over to him, first planting a kiss on his lips. Him leaning down, wrapping his muscular arms around your bare waist. Your hand travelled down, touching his erection through his boxers.

ProHero!Iida who watched your face as you pulled down his boxers, watching his throbbing cock spring up and slap his abdomen. He hissed as air hit his dick.

ProHero!Iida who wasted no time helping you remove your bra and panties, the two of you now completely bare.

You laid down, he followed, now laying next to you. “[Name].. if you don’t mind, could you follow my lead for a moment?” He asked shyly, “Of course. I trust you.”

He rolled you over on your side, his cock now pressing behind you, resting on your back.

“I’m going to enter myself now.. if you need me to stop please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

His arms locked you in place as he wrapped them around your waist tightly. Ever so slowly he put his tip in your warm entrance, moaning at the new sensation.

ProHero!Iida who was now buried deep inside you, relishing in the shape of your walls and and how perfectly they housed him. He dreamt of you, of this very experience, but you far exceeded any expectations.

ProHero!Iida who thrusted inside of you, quickening his pace gradually. Replacing the lewd wet slapping sounds with small words of praise, the position you were in making it easy for him to whisper and nibble on your ear.

ProHero!Iida who wished he could listen to nothing more but your moans and whines, see nothing more than your smaller frame unraveling with his touches.

“You’re doing so good, take it just like that..”

ProHero!Iida who makes sure you finish on his cock before he even thinks about cumming. The sweetest sounds fill his room, his ears, he wants right now to please you more than anything.

As you cum, he continues a steady pace, riding you through it. “Mhm, that’s it.” he grunts, pulling his cock out and pumping it a few times before finishing on your ass.

ProHero!Iida who rushes to draw you a bath and clean you up, preparing you a set of sleeping clothes. He bathes you, apologizing if he went overboard and still showering you with praise.

“You did so good, such a good girl for me.”

ProHero!Iida who lays down next to you, watching you until he’s sure you’re asleep. He feels he can now rest knowing you’re okay. He kisses your forehead once before nuzzling into you and falling asleep too

#mha #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #bnha #bnha x reader smut #bnha x reader #tenya iida #tenya #iida #tenya iida x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #tenya iida x reader smut

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salemlunaa · 3 days

Text

❦ TAPPING INTO THE VOID BUT YOU ALWAYS FALL ASLEEP?

It’s okay sleepyhead, we’ve all been there…

so a lot of people talk to me about the fact that they are trying to tap into the void/“I AM” but they will get super uncomfortable or just fall asleep trying. Then it cuts to them waking up pissed off and upset that they are still in their shitty realities. I feel like so many people have this issue but no one really speaks about it, and to get most blogs to give advice about this specific topic, a lot of the time you have to ask them directly by dming or asking. i’ve also had this problem and let me tell you it’s one: frustrating as hell to deal with and two: no one really speaks about this problem. Here, we talk a lot about giving up, getting too scared at the last second but we never talk about dozing off.

but never fear, sai is here!!

If you are struggling with this i want you to know that as frustrating as it is, it’s so easy to get out of this rut. I would highly recommend starting earlier, i personally love SATS as do many people in the community, but be honest with yourself love, if you see yourself sleeping off i recommend starting earlier than the state right before you sleep as you will have more control of your body.

I also want you guys to try sleeping to waves, whether it be alpha, epsilon, delta and whatever, fall asleep to waves, repeating “I AM” until you doze off. And i know it may be hard for your mind to stick to it but you can, i KNOW you can

you can even try entering during the day, and no it doesn’t always have to be at night because you’re a god and don’t need to be a slave to “time”. you can enter perfectly during the day and it’s just as easy as doing it in the night, don’t let limiting beliefs be the death of you. You can even use the day to affirm that when you sleep you immediately tap into the void/“I AM”, because you are a god, it will become fact when you decide.

I also need you guys to flip your thoughts, and you’ve probably heard this a thousand and one times so i will allow an eye roll just this once, BUT it’s actually something you need to do, don’t tell me “i get it, sai!!” and then come back after another day gone, don’t go around a cycle. I need you to live in the reality in which you are a master of the void and you have never slept off before. I’m gonna say this until i die but the law of assumption is a LAW not belief or superstition A LAW, meaning it can never, ever, ever fail. like ever. If you stand firm in the fact that you don’t have this problem and you are so powerful that there isn’t any time for sleeping, your reality will reflect that 110%

“i fell asleep again even though i told myself i was entering today”

“i hate myself omg i slept off AGAIN”

“i’m such a failure”

SHUT UP, SERIOUSLY? like do i seriously need to remind you who YOU ARE?

“i am a master at the void, failure simply doesn’t exist to me”

“i tap into the void/“I AM” so fast that i don’t even have time to sleep”

“i’m a god and i’ve decided the void always goes well for me”

You can do it, i dont think so, i KNOW it, for a fact, because you’re a god and i’ll be damned if you give up on everything because your body keeps dozing off.

YOU DONT FALL ASLEEP. YOU GET IN INSTANTLY. FLIP YOUR THOUGHTS, SLEEPYHEAD, AND YOULL FIND THAT YOUR DREAM LIFE ISNT FAR… 💋💞

#law of assumption #permashifting #shiftblr #shifting #loa #reality shifting #success story #the void #void concept #void state #the void state #voidstate #void #void state tips #shifting community #i am state #desired reality

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mostly-imagines · 2 days

Note

🌻 anon here

The last few days I stumbled into a few posts about Jason having +18 pics of reader in his phone and I just can't stop thinking "would he tho??" Like would he trust enough his device to have r18 pictures of the one he love and literally worship in his phone??? Knowing he knows damn well how easy it is nowadays to get those types of pictures through hack and stuff??

And I'm not saying he would share the pics, HELL NO he would never. But because I don't think he would trust his phone -and also because it cracks me up- I imagine him having a Polaroid to take the pics. The photos get printed automatically and if he have to he can't literally burn those without having to overthink about someone hacking his phone.

Like can you imagine him just casually take a Polaroid you didn't know where there out his nightstand and taking a pics of you while you reaching your peak??

Anyways all of that just to ask what one of my fav Jason writers would think about the whole Jason having spicy pics of you in this phone

18+

i’ve honest to god been thinking about this non stop since you sent it sunny

i think you're dead on, jason's protective streak rings too loud in his mind to ever take the chance of someone else maybe seeing those photos of you. personally, i’m of the belief that he uses his phone for the most practical purposes only and that his photo gallery is borderline empty, with few exceptions of nondescript images. like the only pictures of you on his phone don’t show your face or any revealing information about you. yeah, he’s a little paranoid in that way but it just makes his alternative that much more interesting.

there’s also something about it that feels more personal, more intimate. there’s not a chance in hell those photos are going near another person and he likes the idea that you’re giving him this amount of vulnerability and trust.

i also think he is an avid supporter of your personal autonomy and feels better knowing that if you want a picture gone, all you have to do is burn it and it's gone forever. he doesn't really like the idea that so many things on electronics can be spread or seen without you even knowing, so he's perfectly fine to stash a few polaroids in unsuspecting places.

he’d be really hesitant to ask you the first time, he was worried he’d make you uncomfortable or that you’d think it was weird. the thought initially came about after he’d gone on an away mission that lasted twice as long as it was supposed to and he was bordering on losing it without a single image of you. that, and frankly, he was stressed and he has never experienced a stress relief quite like you.

so the night he comes back he’s kissing you hard and rubbing up against you, but all he can think about is how badly he wants to capture all your facial expressions and imagery he couldn’t stop imagining while he was gone.

he breaks away from your lips breathlessly, “can I take a picture of you?”

you give him a bemused look, “what? like, now?”

he fiddles with the waistband of your underwear, not making eye contact. “well…in a few minutes..”

his timorous disposition gives you a solid clue of what he means and you smile up at him. “yeah?”

he finally meets your eyes, looking hopeful. “is that alright?”

“of course,” you nod and he leans back down against you, lips meeting your pulse point. “what brought this on?”

he noses at your neck, “jus’ missed you. a lot.”

you nod, pulling back and running a finger down to the tip of his nose. “take as many as you want.”

and he did.

his favorite pics are the ones he takes right when you cum, lips slightly parted, brow pinched. he’s also fond of the moments right when you’re just starting to feel it.

the photos of you on your knees, trying to take him in your mouth as much as you can really do something to him. your eyes watering and you holding his hand for support. he has to pace himself when he looks at those, especially the ones where you’re looking up at the camera.

he doesn’t usually like to be in the pictures, other than his dick in/against you or his hand splayed across your stomach or neck. he also has one or two where you’re riding him and his free hand is on your hip guiding you.

you’d have to be having a particular kind of sex for it to even occur to him to stop and take pictures. it only really happens during the easy times, when you’re both just having fun more than anything. it’s then when he’s really able to take his time with you and savor things, which is why the majority of your polaroids are taken then. he’s also more likely to be in a teasing mood then and not in a particular rush to get you where you’re going. a lot of those pictures show you smiling and completely relaxed which is another reason why he tends to revere those moments.

a grade A way to make him feel better after a long week is leaving him some surprise polaroids in the stash, it makes him crazy. he’s honestly just really obsessed with the idea that you trust him so much with those kinds of photos that you’d go out of your way to take some for him when he’s not even there. i actually think that’s at least half of what turns him on so much about the whole thing, the trust that you place in him and only him to not only see you in those moments but also relive them afterwards. just pics of you in lingerie or even just one of his shirts—it’s over for him.

#i did not proofread this and i am not responsible for what it does or does not say #jason todd thoughts™#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd imagine #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #jason todd smut #red hood smut #🌻

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eamour · 1 day

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the way you manifest.

everybody has a different way of manifesting. some like to script, some like to affirm, and some like to just visualise their desires. however, some methods seem to work for some but don’t really work on others. why is that so?

the law of assumption.

now, the reason behind why everybody seems to have their own way of manifesting or why certain manifestation methods and techniques you cannot seem to be successful with can still ensure other people success is because of the LAW. once again, it's called the law of assumption — and it operates with BELIEF. what you assume or believe to be true, has to be true.

everything is an assumption.

in practice, this means that these methods and techniques seem to "function" well for some because they ASSUME that they will function well for them. on the contrary, the methods and techniques that you believe won’t help you manifest, eventually won’t help you. another example is that you might believe affirming might not work for you but works really good for others. the result: everyone can manifest with the use of affirmations except you.

no preassigned meaning.

it is important to not that with the law, nothing actually is the way it is and nothing is promised to remain the way it is… not unless you say otherwise. in this reality, things aren’t factual, forever or fixed. they don’t have any meaning attached to them. YOU give them meaning first.

the creator's rules.

if you know how the law works, you know that you can use it to your advantage. you can decide how you want to manifest by coming up with your own rules and correctly applying them. you can even influence the way a method or a technique will function for you. and not just methods and techniques! here are some examples for rules you could have:

rule one · i always manifest within 2 days.

rule two · manifesting is easy for me.

rule three · i can manifest even if i feel sad.

loopholes in manifesting.

now, what are loopholes in manifesting? a loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in the law or a set of rules, according to its official definition. in more simple words, they are subjective rules you have set up to simplify manifesting. you could almost say they are "cheat codes", coding the way you manifest.

you know, there are rules to manifesting. actually, there is only one: your assumptions create. for an assumption to manifest, you need to believe in it. now, i'm not saying you can’t have doubts, but there has to be at least a little belief in there, somewhere. now, see how i said "somewhere"? what i mean is that somewhere within the process of manifesting, there needs to be BELIEF.

1 · belief in assumption. you can believe in having your desire and manifest it.

2 · belief in method. you can believe that doing a method xyz times makes you manifest your desire.

3 · belief in self. you can believe that you always manifest your desires.

this is why many people who robotically affirm can manifest. they have the assumption that they either don’t need to believe their assumptions to manifest or that simply doing the method guarantees them their desire. other loopholes could be that only desirable thoughts of you manifest or that affirming once is enough for you.

the best way to manifest.

knowing all of this, it is clear to say one thing: there is no best or perfect way to manifest. technically, they are all the same. since manifesting is personal, it is your decision to decide which methods work for you or not, which techniques get you better or quicker results. and remember, all methods and techniques are all equally accessible to you. you don’t have to do anything beforehand. you don’t have to prove yourself to be worthy or deserving for a method to work for you. again, YOU are the creator.

manifesting is personal.

in conclusion, we all manifest similarly but still differently — and that’s alright! each one of us is an individual and the way we apply the law is personal. that being said, feel free to come up with your own rules! make the law work for you the way YOU would like it to and remain faithful to your rules. that way you can make manifesting a lot more easier.

with love, ella.

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helen-with-an-a · 19 hours

Text

I am an adult pt 6

Hiiiii. I just wanna say thank you so much for everyone's support and love while writing this series - it means so much to me. This part was very easy to write but also emotionally draining ahahaha. Ik I did a poll and a lot of people said they wanted 1 really long fic, but I've split it into 2 halves instead cos it was so long! Also a massive shout out to @lyak12 who helped me a lot with the plot and hyped me up- forehead smooches for u. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7

Barça Femeni x reader

Description: R faces the consequences of her actions

TW: It's very emotional and hints of R's bad mental health

Word Count: 6.6k

You genuinely had no idea how you ended up at the beach. One moment, you were in the changing rooms with your life falling apart around you – your shattered dreams and splintered relationships crashing to the ground. And then you were on a quiet bench near the sea wall, legs tucked under your chin as you sat silently, broken in so many ways.

The gentle breeze carried the tangy scent of saltwater, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and something fried wafting from a nearby snack stand. The waves relentlessly lapping at the shore rhythmically, the repetitive sound a soothing melody to help you drift away in the stillness. Time seemed to blur as you stared out at the vast expanse of the sea, lost in the chaos that was your mind.

You didn’t need to look up when you felt a presence standing next to you. You felt the bench dip as they sat down, not bothering to speak. You stayed silent for a very long time. You had no idea how long you had been there – minutes, hours, perhaps even longer. But as the bright blue sky began to shift into a blaze of fiery oranges, soft pinks, and deep purples, you realised that it had been long enough for the day to give way to the dark blues of the evening. A lone tear trekked down your cheek; you didn’t bother wiping it away.

“They hate me,” you finally said. You heard your companion sigh quietly, a sound filled with empathy and understanding.

“They’re scared,” Esmee countered, her voice soft and soothing. You didn’t respond, the weight of your thoughts drowning out the gentle reassurances offered.

"I fucked up," you admitted after a few too many minutes, the rawness of your confession cutting through the silence. It was Esmee’s turn to be quiet, her expression a mixture of compassion and thoughtfulness.

“We all make mistakes,” she said after a beat, her words a gentle reminder. Well, that was the most Esmee response ever. You turned to look at her, the fading light casting shadows across her face.

“This was more than just a mistake.” you insisted, your voice sounding weak and far away.

“You were hurt. You needed comfort. Something that you couldn’t find in Barcelona.” Her words hung in the air between you.

“I hurt them,” you said resolutely.

“Yes, you did. But I don’t think you meant to.” You could always count on Esmee to offer the truth. Some people thought she sugar-coated things, but you always found that she just said things in a way that was honest yet kind.

You fell back into silence, both of you looking out to the horizon. You had no thoughts wandering across your mind. No voice in your head or niggling feelings. You were just numb. It could have been minutes or hours; you weren’t sure.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Esmee encouraged, standing up and offering her hand.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t have my keys or anything.” You looked up at her with big, wide eyes.

“That’s ok,” she smiled.

The silence in the changing rooms was deafening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing. No one dared move. The only noise was the door clicking softly shut behind you.

“Qué quiso decir? Por qué no le renuevan el contrato?” It was Martina who was brave enough to speak up. Bruna looked up from her intense stare at her boots. All of the younger girls' eyes fell on Alexia. She was their captain, and they needed her to navigate these choppy waters. Alexia blinked. No one had mentioned the possibility of the club not extending your contract. She knew you were able to go on a free at the end of this season, but she had assumed you would sign for Barça again, at least for a year or so. When she had seen those pictures of you in Germany, she thought something had looked a little off. Even through the pixels, you looked so … distant. You clearly did not look comfortable there. At first, she chalked it up to nerves about meeting your new teammates and guilt that you were caught in the act. But now … now she wasn’t so sure. There was a tightness to your face, your usually bright and animated eyes looked clouded, and a subtle sadness in your posture.

“N-no sé.” Alexia breathed, clearly dazed.

“Ella no puede irse.” Vicky insisted. You and Vicky had a unique bond, one that often drove the older girls insane with your misbehaviour.

“She doesn’t have a choice.” Kiera reminded her softly, bringing an arm up to comfort the youngster. “A club doesn’t have to offer anyone an extension if they don’t want to, for whatever reason. Y/N has to leave Barcelona if she wants to play football next season.” Keira had always been a voice of reason in the team; she always had an great understanding of the dynamics at play both on and off the pitch.

“Pero … por qué?” Vicky looked around.

“I’m not sure,” Keira answered honestly.

“Ella no se está transfiriendo?”

“Not willingly,” Keira smiled weakly.

It wasn’t until you stepped through Esmee’s front door that you realised you'd never actually been to her place before. You weren’t the best of friends; she usually hung out with Aitana, Ingrid, and Frido – the quieter girls on the team, quite the contrast to the lively bunch you, Cata, Pina, and Ona could be. Her flat was distinctly Esmee: neat and tidy but with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The shelves were littered with pictures of friends and family, and the walls were filled with colourful art. Her couch looked cosy, with a soft green throw draped artistically over the back. “Do you want some tea?” she asked kindly, smiling as she gestured to the kitchen. You returned her smile with a soft nod. Why was she being so nice to you? You had been a raging arsehole and deserved nothing but the harsh words Lucy had hurled your way.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I told the others you’re with me,” she said apologetically, handing you a steaming mug. You nodded again, your heart sinking a little. “They aren’t going to come round, at least not tonight.” Was Esmee a mind reader? How else would she know you were anxious about them coming over?

“How did you find me?” You asked sometime later. It had stumbled across your mind when she first appeared next to you.

“You mentioned that you like to go to the beach to think.” Have you mentioned that? “After training, I drove along the front until I saw you.”

You stared into your refilled mug; the steam curled upwards and danced in front of you. “I didn’t know you knew that,” you murmured. “I didn’t think anyone knew that.” It was true; you don’t think you had ever mentioned the long walks along the beach you liked to take in the early hours when you couldn’t sleep. The fresh air helped clear your mind, the movement of your body helped to get the blood flowing again, and the peaceful nature helped soothe your soul.

Esmee shrugged, a gentle smile on her lips. “I notice people.” Her words hung in the air between you, warm and comforting like the tea you held. You glanced up at her, feeling a flicker in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely. She nodded back at you, settling back against the sofa, sipping on her own mug.

Ona was conflicted. On one hand, she was immensely relieved that you were safe. You weren’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere or injured and in a coma, unable to identify yourself to anyone. The scenarios that had been playing in her mind for days were far worse than the reality. She had been losing sleep, haunted by the fear that something terrible had happened to you. Knowing you were okay was a weight off her shoulders. But on the other hand, a heavy sense of betrayal gnawed at her. You hadn't trusted her enough to tell her anything. She thought about all the times you had confided in each other, sharing secrets and dreams and comforting each other during tough times. She was your best friend, the one who had always been there for you. And yet, you ran a thousand miles away without a word, without a hint of where you were going or why.

The hurt she felt was deep and raw. How could you not have trusted her with your plans? Why didn't you believe she would understand or help you through this? Her mind swirled with questions and doubts, each one cutting deeper than the last. She wanted to be happy that you were safe, but the sting of your secrecy made it hard to fully embrace that relief. The bond you shared felt strained, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of abandonment.

And now you had disappeared again. When she finally stepped foot on the pitch, she had thought you would have been there too, waiting for training to start. But you were nowhere to be found. Ona scanned the field, her eyes darting from one familiar face to another, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Her heart sank with each passing moment. The coach blew the whistle, signalling the start of practice, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't focus, the worry gnawing at her insides. It must have been one of the worst training sessions she had had in a long time.

She had broken one of Alexia’s steadfast rules – no phones at training. Ona checked her phone obsessively, hoping for a message or a missed call from you. Nothing. The knot in her stomach tightened. She wondered if something had happened again or if you had chosen to vanish this time without a trace, leaving everyone behind to worry and speculate. Her phone buzzed.

Esmee: I’ve found her. She’s safe. I’ll bring her back to mine when she’s ready. E

She could have cried. She was fairly sure she had. Relief washed over her, mingling with the painful ache of betrayal. At least you were safe, and that was the most important thing. As she stood there, clutching her phone, Ona resolved to be patient. She would give you the space you needed, but she would also be there, ready to listen, when you were finally ready to talk.

You woke up the next morning in just as much of a daze. It took you a moment to realise you were on Esmee’s couch, the unfamiliar surroundings disorienting you even further. You hadn’t slept well. You tossed and turned as much as possible on the small couch, the spare bedding Esmee gave you tucked up around your chin. When you did sleep, it wasn’t much better; the nightmares that your mind dreamed up made you even more tired than before.

The quiet chatter from the kitchen pulled you from your not-quite sleep. “That’s up to her to say, Mapí,” Esmee said softly. You could imagine her face, the small apologetic smile and pinched eyebrows.

“Pero... sólo quiero saber, por qué? Ella de dijo algo anoche?” Mapí implored further. Of course, Mapí would be grilling Esmee. You could see her arms moving around as she spoke.

“Min skjønnhet, stop bugging Esmee” Ingrid cut in. You could envisage Ingrid’s soft smile and gentle hand moving comfortingly across Mapí’s shoulders.

“No, mi corazón. Necesito saber por qué se fue del puto país en lugar de hablar con nosotras.” she all but shouted, a guilty look flashing across her face as she registered her volume.

“María.” You didn’t need to be in the room to see Ingrid’s unimpressed look.

“Mapí, I’m not going to betray her trust like that. I found her, I took her home, she stayed the night. Ask her yourself.” You had never heard Esmee sound so tough. Your heart swelled at the thought of her protecting you. Sitting up slowly, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and listened more intently.

Mapí sighed, the sound of a chair scraping back as she sat down. “Aunque estoy muy enojado con ella. No creo que pueda hablar con ella sin gritar.”

“I know,” Ingrid reassured her, her voice softer now but still firm.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to finally face them. The floor felt cool beneath your feet as you walked towards the kitchen, the soft murmurs of their conversation growing louder. As you entered the kitchen, three pairs of eyes turned to you. For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Mapí stood up, her movements hesitant. “Por qué te fuiste sin decir nada?” Her voice was trembling, and you could see the effort it took for her to keep her tone steady.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “I...” you took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I just needed out,” you confessed.

“Y pensaste que desaparecer sin decir una palabra era la mejor manera de hacerlo.?” Mapí’s frustration was evident, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. You had no words. You had no reason, no excuse for your behaviour.

Ingrid stepped forward, her face a mask of disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you put us through? We were worried sick, thinking something terrible had happened to you.”

“No puedes simplemente huir de tus problemas y dejar que nosotros recogamos los pedazos.” Mapí added

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at each of them, their disappointment bearing down on you, crushing you. You had never felt so small, so utterly ashamed of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words barely audible through your tears. “I never meant to hurt any of you. I was just... overwhelmed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We understand that you were struggling, but that doesn’t excuse what you did. We’re your friends, and we deserve better than to be left in the dark like that.” Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We care about you, but you need to understand that your actions have consequences. You can’t just expect us to forgive and forget.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You refused to meet her eyes, gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. “I really am sorry,” you whispered out, blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears. Feeling the weight of their words settling heavily on your shoulders, you knew you had a long road ahead of you, one filled with apologies and making amends.

Alexia couldn’t allow herself to feel all the emotions she was feeling. She had to be the strong one, for the team, the one who held everyone together when everything seemed to be falling apart. But deep down, behind the facade of strength she presented to the world, she was crumbling. Fear, anger, and grief churned inside her, threatening to consume her whole. She wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at the unfairness of it all. But she couldn’t. She had to keep it together ... for the sake of those who depended on her.

Her training was one of the best she had ever done. She focused solely on the ball at her feet. Her passes were stronger, her shoots were faster, her tackles harsher. Each movement was driven by a mix of determination and frustration. Yet, no matter how much she threw herself into her sport, the ache in her heart remained. The weight of your absence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the betrayal she felt. You had received some terrible news. News that had blindsided you into fleeing the country. And you hadn’t confided in her. That was what made her the most … angry wasn’t the right word. Sure, she was so incredibly angry with you for running away. Even when you had all the legal trouble last year, she had never been this angry with you. But now that anger mixed with pain. You had begged her, pleaded with her to treat you more like an adult. And the first thing you had done when times had gotten tough you had acted like a child. Rather than asking for help, reaching out to those around you … those who loved you like family … you had fled. No word, no explanation, no nothing. You left. You left the team. You left her.

As she sat in the solitude of her car, the weight of your actions bore down on her like a heavy burden. The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the layers of friendship and trust she had built with you over the years. She wanted to understand, to offer you comfort and support in your time of need. But the hurt ran too deep, leaving behind a bitter taste of resentment and disappointment. How could you have kept such a monumental thing from her? Had she made you think you couldn’t come to her? Why? Why? Why? The questions swirled in her mind, unanswered and unresolved, adding to the confusion already in her heart.

Esmee graciously drove you back to the training ground to retrieve your belongings. Grateful that it was only an afternoon session, you silently thanked the heavens for the deserted car park. It was eerie, walking through the silent corridors and into the empty changing rooms. You tried very hard to not think about the events of yesterday, focusing on the speckled flooring and the wooden benches as you dug through your bag to get your keys. You would be back that afternoon, so the kit could stay in your locker for now. Your phone was dead, unsurprisingly, but you knew Lena would have spammed you in the meantime.

Returning home felt surreal. Evidence of someone's presence lingered—dishwasher humming, blankets neatly folded. The thought of Ona or Alexia, perhaps tidying in anticipation of your return, tugged at your heart. The house, once brimming with life, now felt suffocatingly empty. Each room echoed with your absence, the memories of laughter and warmth now hauntingly distant. Moving through the familiar spaces, you felt like a ghost, your steps muted by the plush carpet beneath you. Every corner held a fragment of the life you would have to leave behind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what once was. Yet, as you moved from room to room, a sense of disconnection enveloped you, as if you were a stranger peering into a life that no longer belonged to you.

Your phone buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed. Lena’s texts were coming through.

L💚: How was it?

L💚: Did u speak to them?

L💚: Is everything ok?

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Helloooooooo

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Ur really scaring me

L💚: Schatz ????

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Please

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Bitte

Missed call from L💚

L💚: WHY THE FUCK HAS ALEXIA JUST TEXTED ME TO TELL ME U DIDN’T TELL THEM U WERE IN GERMANY????????

L💚: PLEASE TELL ME U TOLD THEM U HAD LEFT THE FUCKING COUNTRY

L💚: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Y/N !!!!!!!

Missed call from L💚

L💚: ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed call from L💚

L💚: PHONE ME !!!!!!!!!!!!!

The last message dated from only 30 minutes ago.

Incoming call from L💚

“Schatz, what the actual fuck?” Lena almost shouted down, the Facetime picking up her distress.

“I … I …” you felt a tear escape. “Fuck,” you said, harshly wiping it away.

“This makes me look so bad. Do you get that?” You did get that. To the team, she was now the girlfriend that aided and abetted your horrific actions. “I know. And I’m so, so sorry, Leibe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell them?” she questioned again.

“I wasn’t thinking. I needed … out. I needed to get away. And it was all so fast and …” your explanation trailed off, a weak defense against her justified questioning.

"That's not good enough, Schatz. They're your friends. Did you think they wouldn't care? Did you think they wouldn't help? I'm trying to understand," Lena's tone softened slightly.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I fucked up massively. And I have no explanation for any of it.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh, her features creased with concern. “You can't run away from your problems, Schatz.”

“I know,” you said, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. “And I promise I'll do better. I'll make things right, I swear.”

“Wirst du das tun, wenn wir jemals streiten? Wirst du auch einfach verschwinden?” Lena's voice trembled with uncertainty, her fear palpable.

“No, never,” you replied immediately, the sincerity in your voice echoing through the connection. “I won't ever leave you. I promise, Lena. I love you.” Lena scrutinised you for a moment, searching for truth in your eyes. Finally, a glimmer of hope flickered in hers.

“Okay ... just promise me you won't shut me out like that. We're supposed to be a team, remember?” Lena implored. You nodded earnestly. “And make this right with the team. You can’t leave like this, especially not with Ona and Alexia.”

Lucy's fury surged like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her and everything around her. Never before had she felt such a consuming anger, a tempest of emotions raging within her. How dare you, she seethed inwardly, her clenched fists trembling with unrestrained fury. The words reverberated in her mind like a relentless echo, each syllable fuelling the fire of her indignation.

The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the bonds of trust with surgical precision. How could you drop that absolute bomb of information on the team and then just leave? The question echoed in Lucy's mind, a refrain of disbelief and betrayal. Her chest heaved with the unspoken words, the air thick with the tension of unresolved anger.

Every fibre of Lucy's being screamed for justice, for retribution against you, who had callously shattered their trust. The image of Ona’s face burned in her mind like a brand, a scar etched into her memory. She had looked so scared, so fragile and raw. But beneath the raging storm of anger, there lurked a profound sense of hurt, a painful vulnerability that threatened to consume her. How could you do that to everyone? Did they mean nothing to you? Did Ona mean so little to you? The wounds of betrayal ran deep. Lucy found herself adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed their once-unified team. The anger burned hot and fierce, a relentless inferno that threatened to consume her from within.

The changing rooms didn’t hold their usual pre-session chatter. There wasn’t a loud, bright atmosphere as people greeted each other and slipped into their workout gear. There was no gentle undercurrent of excitement for the day. Instead, it was spookily silent. A few low murmurs were uttered here and there as people passed, but there was no conversation, no high-fives, or laughter.

You had arrived at training early, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. As you entered, the stillness was almost suffocating. Mariona was the only other person there, her cubby positioned directly opposite yours. You both went about your routines in an awkward dance of avoidance, her presence a constant reminder of the tension that now defined the space. Seeking refuge, you slipped into the bathroom, deliberately taking longer than usual. The routine tasks of washing your hands, tying back your hair, and applying suncream felt almost meditative, a brief respite from the silence that awaited you.

Moving like passing ships in the night, you and Mariona drifted around each other, the silence punctuated only by the rustle of clothes and the soft thud of locker doors.

“Entiendo,” Mariona said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm but firm, and your head whipped up in surprise. Her words hit you with the force of a confession, their gravity making you feel like she had just admitted to something far more serious. “I understand … I’m terrified, and I’m leaving voluntarily.” The admission hung in the air, starkly contrasting the heavy silence from earlier. “I can’t imagine what it's like for you.” A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to find the right words.

"I didn’t mean to hurt anyone," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your words was palpable, each syllable a testament to the regret you felt.

Mariona’s eyes softened, but the tension remained. “Yo sé eso.” You nodded at her words. Your mouth opened to say more, but you were interrupted by the door swinging open and Irene, Marta and Caro walking through the door. You snapped your mouth shut, dipping your head down and turning back to face your locker.

The trio's arrival brought with it a fresh wave of awkwardness. Their conversation, though low and cautious, filled the room with an attempt at normalcy. You focused on your locker, trying to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of their glances. Irene, always perceptive, gave you a fleeting look of concern but said nothing. Marta and Caro exchanged glances, sensing the tension but unsure how to address it.

Slowly, the rest of the team trickled in. It was obvious that you would be participating in this session in silence. No one made a move to talk to you, to even greet you. Not until they had the all-clear from Alexia. You waited until you were one of the final few in the room. Turning, you caught sight of Ona and Lucy whispering in the corner. Ona’s face was still slightly puffy, her eyes still red as she picked at her nails. Lucy’s lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, the corners turned downward in a scowl, her eyes flicking in your direction occasionally. Her body was taut, every muscle seemingly coiled and ready to spring. Shoulders squared and rigid, she stood with a stance that was both defensive and confrontational. Her hands balled into tight fists and trembled slightly with the force of her suppressed rage. Her breath was measured as if she was struggling to maintain control and not let the anger consume her entirely. You hurried out of the room, rushing to leave the couple to their conversation.

The training session was one of the most awkward and painful things you had ever experienced. You stood quietly, tucked away at the end of the line, as Jona started the warmups. Trying to avoid drawing any attention to yourself, you focused intensely on the basics: placing one foot in front of the other, the rhythm of your breathing, the movement of your body. You hoped this would keep your mind occupied and distract you from the palpable tension around you.

When it came time for partner work, you found yourself lingering silently, waiting for a few uncomfortable moments before turning to the trainers. With an odd number of outfield players, someone had to be paired with one of the staff. Today, it seemed like that someone would be you. It wasn't the arrangement itself that bothered you; rather, it was the underlying implications. There was an air of exclusion that hung heavy in the atmosphere, making you feel like an outsider in what was supposed to be a team activity. The most unbearable part of it all was the not-so-subtle looks being thrown your way. It was clear that people were talking about you during the water breaks. Jana would frequently glance in your direction, only to be slapped on the arm by Pina as if reminding her to be discreet. Vicky appeared to take a tentative step toward you, possibly to offer some form of solidarity but was quickly redirected by Bruna, who nudged her in another direction. These interactions left you feeling isolated and self-conscious. Every whispered conversation, every sideways glance, seemed to amplify your sense of alienation. You could almost hear the silent judgments. This wasn't just a training session; it was a stark reminder of your outsider status, of how much damage you had done.

The scrimmage at the end was no better. Thankfully, Jona had made the teams for the final 7 v 7. Was it karma that he had placed you on the left wing with Lucy as the opposing right-back? Maybe. But you couldn’t deny that you deserved every shove, every tackle that she gave you. She seemed to be toeing the line between unprofessionalism carefully. She never left a lasting mark on you, but you could tell each push was personal.

As the exercise progressed, Lucy's aggression became more evident. She was relentless, pressing you harder than she did anyone else on the field. Each time she shouldered you off the ball or slid in with a perfectly timed tackle, you could feel the underlying animosity. It wasn’t just about winning the ball; it was about sending a message. If it were a normal day, a day when you hadn’t messed up so unbelievably badly, you would have shoved back or shouted a little. But you couldn’t do that. Today, you were paying for your mistakes, and Lucy was more than willing to collect.

So, you took it. Every time you were sent to the ground, you didn’t question it. You didn’t wait for the whistle to be blown or hope that someone would extend a hand to help you back up. Instead, you popped back up, shook yourself off, and continued like nothing was wrong like your whole life wasn't crumbling around you. Each time you hit the grass, the sting of the impact seemed to echo your emotional bruises. But you refused to show it. You forced yourself to remain strong. You could break down again later. You pushed through the scrimmage with grim determination, aware of the eyes on you, aware of the judgment, but unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Despite the bruises and the rough treatment, you managed to stay on your feet more than you had thought you would do. You moved through the motions, running up and down the small pitch, crossing balls into the box, and tracking back on defence. But every action felt hollow, your mind a swirl of what-ifs and if-onlys. The final whistle came as a relief, yet also with a sense of dread. You knew the real battle was far from over. As Jona dismissed you for the day, you helped the trainers collect the equipment, hoping to delay your return and allow the others time to leave peacefully.

As you walked through the main doors back into the building, you noticed Alexia. Standing strong and unimpressed, leaning against the wall. You went to speak but thought better of it, nodding once and smiling uneasily instead. As you moved to walk past her, she stopped you, a warm hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Nosotras necesitamos hablar.” Her voice was sharp, a firmness that was hardly ever directed at you … not since the trouble from last year. You nodded, your voice unable to work.

You followed her through the maze of corridors until you reached a seldom-used meeting room. Was it a coincidence that it was the same room you had the meeting with the State Officials in and first told them about Lena? Maybe, but you wouldn’t put it past Alexia to have chosen it specifically. “Sentarse.” Her voice held a harshness to it that cut through you like a knife. You deserve this. You deserve this. You hurt her. You hurt everyone.

“Since you wanted to be treated like an adult, we will talk like adults.” You nodded. God, why couldn’t you speak? It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in trouble before. Maybe it was because this was such a personal mistake. When you hadn’t completed the forms on time, yes, it had been your fault as you were the person responsible, but there was a somewhat clear-cut way to fix it. It was laid out for you. But this … this was something you needed to navigate like an adult. No one was going to help you this time.

Alexia pointed to a chair, and she pulled out her own. “Explicar.” Her command was simple, really. But where could you begin? Where should you start? You were clearly taking too long. Alexia huffed, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at you. You sank into the chair, feeling the weight of her gaze bearing down on you. How could you explain the mess you had made? The knots in your stomach tightened as you struggled to find the right words. Despite your best efforts, your breath quickened, and your fingers had a mind of their own as they started to pick at the dry skin around your nails.

"I... I don't … I don’t know … where to start," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Alexia's expression softened ever slightly, but her impatience was palpable. She had never seen you look so young. Even when you were in the hell that was the legal trouble last year, or the wide-eyed teen that turned up on her doorstep at the request of the club, with a single suitcase and a dream.

"Just start from the beginning," she urged, her tone imperceptively gentler now. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I got a phone call from Paul … my agent,” you swallowed, staring harshly into the table, refusing to meet Alexia’s eye or even look in her general direction. “He said he had just got back from a meeting with the club.” You stuck to the facts, no emotions, no elaborations, just facts. You couldn’t … wouldn’t … cry if you stuck to the simple facts. “He said they couldn’t afford to keep me next season.” You stopped.

It was clear to Alexia that that was as much as you could say about the situation without breaking. You were so similar in that way. Both of you refused to cry in front of someone else, not unless you were truly comfortable and perfectly safe around them. Did you not feel safe around her anymore? Had she broken your relationship? No, she stopped those thoughts in their tracks. You had broken the relationship, you, not her … then why did she feel like she was to blame, at least partially?

Alexia watched you carefully, her heart aching at the sight of your pain. She wanted to reach out ... to comfort you. No. She held herself back. She knew that now wasn't the time for softness, not when there were hard truths that needed to be faced. “What about Germany?” Her voice was still icy, cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. What about Germany? Germany was where Lena was. Germany was safe. Germany had Lena. You took another steadying breath, pushing down everything that was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Lena phoned me. She said either I went to her or she came to me. She had the Pokal final, so I went to her.” Another pause. “I needed to think. To breathe. To …” you trailed off. You let out a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Todavía no entiendo.” She admitted after a moment. You nodded, biting your lip so hard that you started to taste blood. A tear plopped onto the wooden table in front of you, another one joining quickly afterwards. “Por qué … why didn’t you tell someone? Anyone?” Alexia's question pierced through the haze of your thoughts, demanding an answer you weren't sure you had. Why hadn’t you done that? You honestly had no explanation for it. You just needed out. Out of your house. Out of Barcelona. Out of Spain. Every time you looked at your phone, all the emotions came flooding back like a tsunami. So, you didn’t look.

“I don’t know,” you croaked, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

“Eso no es lo suficientemente bueno.” Alexia's words were severe, a reminder that there would never be a good enough reason to justify your actions. You knew that. You knew that there would never be an excuse that could erase the hurt you had caused. You nodded. “Mírame,” she demanded after a moment. Your head remained down, but your eyes drifted up.

Alexia looked in pain. Not the physical pain – you had seen the uncomfortable look she had when she had tweaked her knee again or the scrunch of her eyebrows when an opposing player left her mark on her. This was different. This was emotional pain, etched into the lines of her face, shadowing the brightness of her eyes. As you watched her struggle to contain her emotions, the guilt pierced your heart tenfold. Your actions had caused her pain ... had shattered the fragile peace she had worked so hard to maintain. “Por qué no viniste a mí?” Once she asked that initial question, the floodgates opened. “No querías que te ayudara? I could have done something. I could have spoken to the club or something, anything. Em culpes?” She finished her sentence in Catalan. She thought you blamed her? You didn’t know what to say. The dam broke. Hot, fat tears rolled in a steady stream down your face.

“Never, Alexia. Never. I never, ever blamed you. I promise. It’s not your fault. It’s on me, it’s all on me. I’m not good enough for the club. For anyone. Of course, they want to renew you and Lucy over me. You deserve it so much more than me. This isn’t anyone’s fault but mine.” It was a mismatch of languages. Some sentences in English, some in Spanish and Catalan, and others in German. “I fucked up so badly. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I … I couldn’t ... I needed to … I don’t even know. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You don’t deserve any of this. I fucked up so horrifically.” Alexia had never seen you so upset. It was clear she needed to intervene when she noticed your breathing quickening. You were hyperventilating now, apologies still streaming from your mouth. With a gentle hand, she reached out and placed it on your trembling shoulder. She didn’t think you even noticed it.

“Cariño. Breathe.” She instructed. Eventually, you slowed down, your breathing and heart rate returning to a more normal level. “Thank you for apologising,” she said when you had fully calmed down. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not hurt. And I’m not quite ready to forgive you. But I think there is more to this story than just you. You should not have been blindsided like that by the club. But your actions …” You nodded.

“I truly am sorry, Ale, um, Alexia.” You really wanted to hug her, but you knew you weren’t quite forgiven enough for that yet. She stood, offering a weak smile to you as she left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3<3

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