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#and she’s still so hurt by the end of it all
sporadicbeans82 · 3 days
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Reader’s dad has really high standards for her like impossibly high for just a 16 year old, and she overworks herself to the point she passes out and all the girls are really concerned and she’s just like no i have to keep going i have to be better i have to be enough and then they all press her for more info and then when she eventually tells them about how she’s feeling they all comfort her and tell her playing pro soccer at that young is amazing and that she’s enough]” Barcelona Femini (mainly Alexia Putellas) or Arsenal WFC
You 100% do not need to write this just would love to see your talented writing skills give this a shot🫶
Enough || Barcelona Femení x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death, toxic family relationships, lack of self care from reader, Swearing (probably?)
Word count: 4.3k words
A/N: I lied, this was next. Feel free to make more requests. I hope that this is alright, anon! I kind of strayed from the plot.
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“You should have scored more, you didn’t try hard enough,” Your father’s voice was flat, the comments made offhandedly as if he were talking about what you were having for dinner. As if he weren’t stabbing you in the back with his words, the comment digging deeper and deeper and cracking your heart open. “That header was yours, you disappointed your team by letting that one go.” 
Growing up, you’d always dreamed of playing professional soccer, and so your parents had supported your dreams. They drove you to each of your games and training, and helped pay for you to go to an academy. They helped you get to your national camps, made and packed nutritious food for you, and supported you in each and every way that they could.
You stuck to your dreams and overcame so many challenges to get to where you were. You’d learned from the best, had run into injuries, had laughed with friends and had lost those friends as they’d given up the dreams that all of you had had. You’d thought about giving up, too, especially when your mother had been diagnosed with cancer.
She’d fought tooth and nail to stay alive, working hard to still help you become the best player that you could. She continued to support you with your father, up until the point where she was far too weak to continue doing so. She’d gone to every single one of your games, even when she felt sick or like she didn’t have the energy, and for that you were determined to make it worth it for her. Little did you know that watching you was your mother’s greatest pride, and she would not allow her sickness to keep her from supporting you.
And so you stuck to the sport, even when your friends did not, and it had all paid off in the end. In the summer, you’d signed for Barcelona Femení, the day after your sixteenth birthday. Your mother was there for your signing, beside your father. That day, she promised you that she would watch your first game with Barcelona no matter what.
She hadn’t made it that long, dying only a few days later. You’d taken the loss hard, but it was your father who had taken it the hardest. Your father had hardened in ways that you hadn’t anticipated, becoming cruel and harsh. He seemed to have given up hope, the bags beneath his eyes dark and puffy. 
He was a shell on the man that he’d once been, and it showed in the way he now treated you. After the loss of your mother, he’d drawn into himself and away from you, and you found yourself so much lonelier than you had ever been.
The team had been there for you, allowing you to take time off and letting you know that they had psychologists and people to talk to if you had needed it. It took you a week to return.
When you were finally mentally ready to move on and begin participating in training sessions, it was now your captain, Alexia Putellas, who drove you to practices. 
Your father no longer attended your matches, no longer worked hard to ensure that you got all the support that you deserved. Instead, he sat at home and mourned the loss of your mother. The truth was, you were both hurting, but you had to be strong in hopes that your father would soon bounce back.
He never did.
You hadn’t told any of your teammates, but the stress of the situation was getting to you. It showed in your performance and the way you trained in all of the worst ways. You were exhausted, emotionally and also physically as you had troubles sleeping at night. You wanted a hug from your mom, wished that she was there to tell you that everything would be alright.
But she wasn’t there, which was the entire problem, and she would never be able to do that again. 
And so things continued as they were for several months. The pressure grew onto you, far too much for your young shoulders to carry on their own, but you forced yourself to remain strong. You worked harder than you ever had in your life, attempting to be enough for your father and to try to make your mother proud as you’d promised her. 
Foolishly, you dreamed at night that you could bring your father out of the deep pit of depression he’d fallen into. Maybe, if you tried hard enough, he’d realize that you really were good at soccer. Maybe he’d wake up and realize that you needed him still, but the truth was that a part of him had died when your mother had, and you would never be getting him back. 
You’d basically forced him to come to your match, begging him for weeks on end to come to at least one. Ironically, it was the first time you were being trusted to start for your team as well. It was supposed to be a special match, commemorating everything that you and your parents had ever worked for.
You’d hoped that he would come out of his shell if he returned to a little bit of his old life. You’d been wrong, as the second you’d stepped into his car, he was throwing insults and critiques at you. 
He was nothing of the man you’d grown up with, and it hurt you like no other pain you’d felt in your life. Even breaking two bones in your leg at thirteen didn’t compare to the pain in your chest, hollowed out by month after month of loneliness and pain. You felt like your heart, once full of love, had been scraped empty of any positive emotion that it had once felt, and your father held the scalpel. 
You tried arduously to tune your father out, trying to focus on the positives of the match as your father drove. 
You’d won the game!
“You relied on the other defenders far too much to cover for your careless mistakes.”
You’d made an amazing tackle on a player who had skirted past Ingrid Engen! It had earned you a shower of applause from the watching fans and a proud peck to your forehead from Ingrid herself!
“You were too slow, you need to be faster, like Batlle.”
Alexia had told you that she was proud of you!
“You aren’t good enough for this team, God knows why they chose you.”
You weren’t aware of the tears which fell down your cheeks, and your father ignored them. You didn’t know why he was so intent on breaking you down after years spent building you up. You missed how life was before.
You missed your mom.
As your father pulled into the driveway of your childhood home, you hopped out. Before a sob could break free of your quivering lips, you were bounding up the steps to your room and closing the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, all of the emotions which had bubbled beneath the surface coming out in ugly, whiny gasps and cries. 
Your heart burned, as if scorched. You had never felt so empty, so dark, and so lonely. You wanted someone to hold you, and you didn’t know who to turn to anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, although you only managed to get a few meager hours of sleep before you were awoken by some recurring nightmare.
-----
You barely managed to drag yourself to training, exhausted. The dark bags beneath your eyes stood out starkly against your pale skin. You were dressed in a jumper and sweatpants, both of which used to be an appropriate size but which now hung off of your tired frame. 
As Alexia picked you up, she noted your exhaustion with a small frown. 
“Hola, chiqui. Estás bien?” Her voice held a certain concern which was almost enough to break down your walls. You yearned so badly for a sense of comfort, and the which Alexia looked seemed to offer that.
You forced yourself to turn towards the window, not wanting to break down in front of your captain. Your father’s words from the past few months wore heavy on your mind. You were a disappointment and a burden, and you didn’t want Alexia to tell Jona that the team didn’t need you and decide to release you. You wanted to be enough, and you had promised yourself every night that you would be better, you just needed a little bit more time. 
Alexia frowned harsher, nearly locking the car and forcing you to talk to her, but deciding against it. She didn’t want to push you, but she’d noticed that you weren’t okay for a while. 
She’d taken note of the way you always did extra laps and repetitions of each of their workouts. She watched you participate in extra opportunities to practice penalties and how you stood behind after each training for at least an hour to do more work. She knew you were exhausting yourself, could see it in the way you could barely stand. 
She didn’t understand why you pushed yourself so hard, given how good you were. She tried to give you advice, to compliment you whenever she could and saw how you absolutely beamed under any sort of praise or compliment, as though you didn’t get it enough. 
Over the last few months, she’d taken on almost a mentoring role to you. You looked up to her, and she could see how you held each of your teammates in such high regard. For whatever reason, however, it just didn’t seem to stick in your mind that you were of the same caliber as each excellent athlete within the team. 
As she watched you turn away from her, she realized she would need to confront you soon. It was obvious that you weren’t taking care of yourself, but she didn’t want to do it now, not when you were blocking her out as hard as you could. She would need backup, probably from the other captains of the team, and made a promise to herself that she would do it later that day.
Instead of confronting you like she yearned to do, she stayed quiet and allowed you your peace. She watched as, ever so slowly, your shoulders sagged and your body untensed. You’d fallen asleep, and Alexia turned the music down a little bit to try to make the atmosphere easy to sleep in. 
Alexia noticed how the harsh lines in your face relaxed as you slept. You looked more peaceful than she’d ever seen you. She hated that she had to wake you up as the two of you arrived at the training center. 
She parked as gently as she could before reaching over and gently shaking you awake. You groaned as she did so, almost turning away in such a careless, teenage way that Alexia had never seen you do. You always seemed so much more grown up than you were supposed to be, even more so than Claudia or Pina or Vicky, all of whom were older than you. 
“‘M not ready yet, Mom.” You rumbled, and Alexia froze, the frown on her face deepening. She’d tried to be there for you, having lost her own parental figure in her father. She knew the pain that you felt all too well.
 So not to be mistaken for the woman who you’d just lost, Alexia spoke up this time as she shook at you again.
“Despiértate, nena. We are here.” You startled awake, the barriers which had dropped as you slept appearing once more as your face tightened again, a frown set upon your face which mirrored Alexia’s.
You thanked her quietly before climbing out of the car, purposefully walking ahead of Alexia so that she couldn’t ask you any questions about your slip up.
You entered the locker room near-silently, the hood of your jumper up to cover the vast majority of your face. You ignored the looks you got from each of your teammates in favor of quickly getting dressed for training.
As you went to tie your shoes, you realized you were, yet again, crying.
You’re too emotional. Words of your fathers’. Your teammates wouldn’t like you if you showed emotion in front of them. You pushed the fabric of your sleeve against your cheeks, leaving red marks behind with how harshly you rubbed at the salty tears. 
Then, to try to remain inconspicuous, you bent over to tug your shoes on to your feet. You thought you were successful, but hadn’t anticipated how much you’d struggle with your laces. Your exhaustion mixed with your lack of breakfast had caused your hands to shake.
Each time you’d try to make a loop, your quaking fingers would pull too hard or drop the lace altogether. 
All of your teammates noticed your struggle, but it was Paños who stepped in. The older woman knelt down at your feet, hands wrapping around your own and holding them for just a second. Her eyes looked up into yours, noting the tear stains on your cheeks and giving you a comforting smile. 
Then, she refocused on your shoes and began to tie them for you. The rest of your teammates watched on anxiously, although they continued to prepare for training and tried not to stare. The truth was, everyone could see that something was going on with you and that you weren’t okay, but they were scared to upset you by saying anything. You already seemed too tiny and isolated and they walked on eggshells around you.
Each of your teammates yearned to be there for you, but they didn’t know you well enough to know how to be there for you. 
Paños finished with your shoes before standing, holding both of her hands out for you to take. She tugged you to your feet easily, one arm wrapping around you in almost a motherly manner.
The woman was usually seen joking with the younger kids, but with you she had taken a different role, like Ale. 
“Listos, nena?” The goalkeeper asked you, voice soft and comforting. Like Alexia, her voice nearly caused you to break down. You felt your shoulders shake beneath the weight of Sandra’s arm and resisted the urge to turn and hug her like you would have your mother.
You wanted comfort, but your father had convinced you time and time again that you didn’t need it and that you’d be a burden if you sought it out, and so you nodded and pulled away.
You walked out onto the field and began to stretch. You kept your head down, suddenly more numb than you’d felt in months. You ignored the way your stomach clenched with hunger and the way your head had begun to ache and sting from your lack of sleep, proper nutrition, and all of your crying. 
You didn’t look up, even as more of your teammates filtered out to join you. Claudia and Patri stretched next to you, trying to provide jokes for you to laugh at. They didn’t stop even as you didn’t react, continuing to try to cheer you up in the only way they knew how at the moment.
When a whistle sounded to signal the beginning of warmups, you stood instantly. Too fast, however, as your world tilted and spun around you. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever tried alcohol on your fifteenth birthday. 
An arm wrapped around your waist and you regained your balance against the firm body of one of your teammates.
“You okay?” You heard someone ask. Looking up, you caught the concerned glance of Ingrid Engen, who had also taken you under her wing when you’d joined the team. You nodded, pulling away from her, too.
So many people had touched you in the past hour, more than you’d had since your mother had passed away. You almost didn’t know how to react to all the comforting touches and glances, having not received them in so long. 
Ingrid watched on sadly as you walked away from her, the concern which swirled within herself increasing as she watched you wobble away. Ingrid had noticed how out of it you were, how tiny you had been in the clothes which had fit you a month ago. You were pale, more than normal, and the way you’d nearly passed out showed Ingrid that you were not fit to practice. 
The Norwegian caught Alexia’s gaze from across the yard, shaking her head at the Spanish captain to try to convey that you shouldn’t be training.
Sensing that something was wrong, Alexia began to make her way over to you. As she did so, however, your legs finally seemed to cave in from underneath you.
None of your teammates would ever be able to get the image of your crumpled figure on the turf as Alexia and Ingrid both ran to you. The rest of your teammates watched on as the medics were called over.
You were turned on your back by Alexia, one of her fingers touching at your throat as they attempted to find a pulse. It was thready and uneven, but there, and Alexia wanted to cry. She cursed herself for not confronting you sooner, more worried than she remembered ever being as the medical staff pushed her back to give your crumpled form more room.
Alexia had been the one to recommend you to the team, having attended one of your matches for Spain’s U17 match. You’d played up and had still outclassed so many of your teammates, a solid wall in the backline which your teammates depended upon. She’d seen the glimmer of excitement and determination in your eyes, one that you’d lost since the passing of your mother.
She felt like this was all her fault. If she had just spoken to you sooner and had investigated what was going on with you… then, maybe, you would have been okay. She felt as though she had failed you and her responsibilities as a captain to ensure your safety.
You’d become a skeleton of the incredible human that you’d once been, and had watched all the life drain from you while being unable to do anything about it. As you were placed upon a cart to be carried off the field, however, Alexia promised that she would be there for you.
You were wasting your life away, and Alexia was determined to figure out why.
-----
You awoke in a dimly illuminated room, your throat dry and your eyes feeling like they’d been doused with sand. You groaned, attempting to lift your hand as you slowly game through to try and brush at your forehead. You felt cold and sticky all at once– you didn’t feel well at all.
Your hand was caught on something, and you attempted to bat at it only to have your hand caught by something else. As the room slowly began to swim into your vision, you caught the familiar brown eyes of your captain. 
“Hola, capi.” You rasped, and Alexia’s concerned face brightened ever so slightly, a small smile gently pulling her lips upward.
“Hola, chiqui. Como estás?” Alexia inquired, her voice far gentler than you’d ever felt.
“Not very good,” You whispered honestly, feeling like shit. You were tired of fighting, tired of feeling like you weren’t enough. You were ready to be honest about how you felt, no matter if the people around you would stop loving you as your dad promised that they would. “What happened?”
“You passed out.” This voice was different, coming from your left. Slowly, your head fell sideways and you caught the glance of Ingrid. The girl looked more worried than you ever had seen her, and you felt truly terrible for worrying the older woman. 
“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say to that. You knew that you hadn’t been feeling very well for a long time, but you’d been too scared to mention it to anybody but your father. The man who was supposed to keep you safe had failed you in all ways possible, but you didn’t see it that way.
You felt like you weren’t enough and that it was you who had failed, and that you didn’t deserve comfort or love because of it.
Alexia sat up, the motion causing your gaze to come back to her.
“Do you want to tell me why you haven’t been taking care of yourself?” Alexia speaking English took you by surprise. You supposed that it shouldn’t have been that surprising, but you knew that the girl seemed to almost avoid speaking the language. Her voice was still low, comforting, and still worked at lowering your barriers ever more.
You had to resist the urge to throw yourself in her arms and blubber like a baby. You reminded yourself that they would remove you from the team, that they wouldn't accept you, that they would see you as weak.
However, the way Alexia held your hand, her grip comforting and sure, made you think that… maybe… your dad was wrong. Maybe they did care. 
“I…” you hesitated, and felt someone put a hand on your shoulder. Glancing over, you realized that Paños was there, too. You caught her concerned gaze, the small smile on her face, and heard her tell you that it was okay. 
It was then that you realized, all of the adults that you trusted most in the world, that made you feel better when you were at your worst, were there for you. They were here for you when you were lower than your lowest, and if they hadn’t left when you’d fallen on your face on the field, then they wouldn’t leave now. 
That thought gave you the courage to tell the truth, and so you did. 
The girls listened throughout your story. You told them how low you felt, how scared you were. You told them that you missed your mom, but so did your dad. You told them that he’d become a shell of the man he’d once been, that he’d become cruel and harsh– everything that your dad was not. The girls’ faces were stormy, but still they worked to comfort and reassure you in every way that they could.
By the end of your retelling, you were crying, but so were they. 
You were utterly exhausted as a yawn broke through, revealing your exhaustion to the other girls. It was Alexia who spoke first, frowning at you.
“We are here for you, no matter what. We will fix this.” Her words were hard, but not harsh. They were a promise, one that you trusted. “Sleep, we will be here when you wake up.”
“I’m okay.” You retorted. Truthfully, you were terrified. You were scared that they would leave after trusting them with the information and words that had burdened you for months, just as your father had promised you.
Sensing your nervousness, Alexia gently slid up and onto the bed, taking her time and giving you plenty of room. 
As soon as the older woman had sat herself up, careful of the IV in your hand, you moved. You buried yourself against her, an arm wrapping around her back as your face buried itself in her shoulder. Alexia, ever so carefully, wrapped her arms around you in return. 
She pressed a warm, careful kiss against your forehead, and allowed you to cry into her shirt. She did not care about the way your tears wet the material, reassuring you in a spattering of both English and Spanish words. Ingrid and Sandra stepped out to give the two of you privacy, although they would be back for you. They would never leave your side, not now that they knew what you’d been going through.
Alexia continued to hold and comfort you in the ways that you’d yearned for months, her touch gentle. 
That was how you fell asleep, and how you woke up hours later. Despite the amount of time you’d spent in the spare room of the training center, Alexia had stayed. She had not allowed anybody to wake you up, having come to the conclusion that she would never allow your father to speak to you ever again. 
That night, she took you to her home, which she shared with her girlfriend, Olga. There, they cared for you.
Alexia made sure that you spoke to a therapist, and that you never saw your father again. She supported you in the ways that you deserved, and in the ways that you'd lacked since your mother had passed away.
Slowly but surely, Alexia saw you return to the kid that you’d once been: determined, carefree, and stronger than you’d ever been. 
Freed from the confines of your father’s sorrow, you were able to soar. You rose to levels of success that you’d only ever been able to dream of, and you stayed true to your promise.
You made your mother proud.
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thef1diary · 2 days
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Little Big Fan | Fourteen
— Little Big Champion
Series Masterlist
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wc: 1.9k
Note: we're gonna pretend that Max won the championship in the race, and the sprint race didn't exist for the purpose of the plot.
"Holy shit," you murmur as the car rolls to a stop right beside Max's private jet. "Shit," your daughter repeats which earns a laugh from Max.
You shake your head and tell her, "don't say that." Luckily, she'd been so focused on the plane that she'd forgotten to wonder why. Other times, even after being given a response, she would persistently demand for the explanation, usually with "why, mama?" multiple times.
You turned your head to look at Max, who was already smiling due to your reaction. "You do know that you're about to ruin every other plane experience for me now, right?" You ask with a little chuckle and Max, being Max, nods. "Yeah, and you do know that we'll be flying private for most of the races," he said, adding, "or vacations."
"Is this your plane, Maxy?" Isabella asked, slightly leaning over your lap to look out the window as it gave her a better view of the aircraft. "It's ours, princess."
Your attention remained fixed on Isabella's expression as she took in all of the details inside the plane. Max was used to the luxurious life after travelling to so many nations in this plane. To you and Isabella, however, it was a whole new experience, and you couldn't help but feel both delighted and comforted that this would eventually become your new normal. Max hasn't hesitated to spoil you or Isabella thus far, and he has no intentions to stop, especially now that he's become addicted to the joy he feels when he does something for you or Isabella.
Once you were settled in, you were welcomed with a glass of champagne for you and Max, and apple juice for Isabella—served in a champagne flute to prevent her from feeling excluded.
This time, it was a much smoother experience for your daughter, especially during takeoff which she was very nervous about based on the last time she had flown.
Isabella was out like a light once the jet was in the air, and she was able to sleep peacefully because flying private had far fewer people than flying commercial. You and Max had moved to the opposite end of the plane to chat freely, but you could still keep an eye on Isabella in case she awoke.
The flight consisted of only Max, Isabella, and you, with a few crew members present. When you saw the lack of his team, you asked about it. "I might've told them to fly commercial," he said with a shrug.
"And they're going to hate me before I even meet them properly," you responded. While you had met a few people that were a part of his team, Max would be reintroducing you as his girlfriend.
He shook his head, "no they won't. I had to make sure that your first private flight experience was the best of the best, and that wouldn't be possible with them around."
You were in a completely new country, new paddock and new track but it still felt familiar since you had Max by your side. A few other drivers had come up to you and your daughter, having recognized you from the last time you were Max's guest at a race.
"I know RedBull is your favourite team, but what about McLaren?" Lando asked Isabella, who pressed a finger against her cheek to pretend to think for a moment. "I like RedBull, Ferrari, and then McLaren," she counted on her fingers.
Lando's jaw dropped, placing a hand to his chest in mock hurt, "third?" Isabella giggled, "out of ten, Lando."
"But still, what will it take for McLaren to be first?" Max interjected before she could respond to Lando's question. "Stop bothering my Bella, you're not her favourite." He was pleased to be her favourite, both on and off the track. Perhaps second to you off track because you were her mother, but he'd still consider it a win.
Lando approached the three of you a few minutes earlier, immediately sparking up a conversation with Isabella after hearing all the good things about her through Max. Lando was one of the very few people Max had told about you during the short break between races. It was strange to see Lando clad in the opposing team colours near the rival team's garage, but he had to know the two people who owned Max's heart—which were exactly the words Max had told him, albeit Lando found those words a tad too sappy.
Ignoring Max's comment even though he looked up to acknowledge him, he asked Isabella another question. "What about your favourite driver, and don't say Max."
Max looked at you with an expression that said, "are you going to let this happen?" You laughed, looking at the Brit and commenting, "I don't think you'll be happy with the answer, Lando."
"Maxy is my favourite but Charlie too," Isabella stated right after your words earning a gasp from Max and Lando. "Charles?" Max asked, surprised as well.
Max never really thought about it and certainly didn't think Charles would be her second favourite driver. He was aware that Isabella would undoubtedly have other favourites than him but just not as good as him.
"Yes, Charlie," Isabella confirmed, and at the same time the driver walked past them, stopping once he heard his name.
"Ah, hello Bella," he held his hand up for a high-five. He playfully removed the cap she already had on—which was the one Max gifted—to replace it with the one he had on his head; Ferrari.
Max leaned closer to you and whispered, "there are too many non-redbull drivers here." Hiding your laugh behind your hand, you responded, "you can't tell them to leave though, we're not in the garage." He raised his eyebrow, "why not?"
"Just look at Bella," you said, nudging your head towards the scene in front of you two. Her eyes lit up as she giggled at the two drivers who spoke to her. Lando placed his McLaren cap on her head, on top of Charles' cap already on her head in an attempt to outshine the Ferrari driver.
That earned a smile from Max, "I'm glad she's comfortable here, not many kids are." You nodded, "well she will be growing up around the tracks, either to watch you or if she decides to be like you."
Max's head snapped in your direction, "what do you mean be like me? She wants to race?" Around you, he was always expressive, so you could see the glint of hope that was beginning to form in his eyes. Again, you nodded, "she might've mentioned it once or twice but if you can't tell I barely know anything about the sport and even less about karting."
"I can help, please let me take her karting," Max immediately requested, because the prospect of Isabella starting karting, especially under his coaching and guidance, was nothing short of a dream.
"I think she would love that, but let me tell you now that it's already scary enough seeing you race so I'm not sure how I would handle it if Isabella has even a fraction of your talent," you stated firmly, earning a sharp nod in understanding from him.
Max grinned as he observed your daughter incorporating Charles and Lando into her imaginary activities. This time, the two professional drivers were passengers while she was playing the role of a race car driver.
"Oi, lovebirds, join us," Lando made a disgusted expression as he witnessed you and Max cuddled together, but he secretly enjoyed seeing the two of you together—not that he would ever tell Max.
Dropping the conversation for now, you and Max joined in on the little game until the drivers were needed by their various team members.
He did it; Max won the race and the world championship title yet again, for the third time in a row. As a result of his competitiveness and success as a driver, the title had already been determined with five races remaining in the season.
Behind the row of team members—mainly from RedBull and McLaren—you stood among them in parc fermé with a tight grasp on your daughter's hand waiting for Max to park the car in the spot reserved for the race winner.
Cheers and claps could be heard loudly as he stood on top of the car for a moment, throwing his hands up in celebration. With his helmet still on, he rushed towards the team standing behind the barricades, earning praises and applauses from each person he neared.
Amongst the crowd, he spotted you, and while you couldn't see his full face, you knew from the way his eyes crinkled around the corners that he adorned a wide smile on his face.
Max stood right in front of you, but yet it was still too far as a few people were blocking his view of you. Gesturing with his hands, he asked for you to be brought closer and you obliged as soon as you were given space.
He removed his helmet and balaclava which allowed you to see his beautiful face, still adorning a smile on his face but only fondness in his eyes remained as he continued looking at you.
Shoving the balaclava inside the helmet, he held it in one hand to the side while grasping the back of your head with the other. The noises around you seemed to fade away as soon as his lips touched yours, leaving you with only the immense hammering of your heart.
Parting away, you rested your forehead against his for a moment. “Congratulations, baby,” you spoke, loud enough to be heard amongst the crowd that you couldn’t care less about in this moment.
The audience begins to disperse, gathering around the podium for the upcoming celebrations. Max receives a pat on the back, indicating that it is time to go to the cooldown room, but his gaze never shifts away from you.
He knew he couldn't leave without placing another kiss on your lips, so he gave in to his desires by closing his eyes, silencing the world around him once more to focus on the delicate sensation of your lips pressing against his.
Max truly felt like a champion, because not only did he win the world driver's championship of this season but he also had you right by his side to experience the thrill of winning it all. He may have won two other championships in the previous years, but this one felt completely different; much better.
Inevitably, he's pulled away from you by someone from his team. "Go get that trophy, champion," you state, wanting to see him hold the race winning trophy now, and even the championship trophy during the gala.
Right before turning around, he focused on your daughter, messing with Isabella's hair again until she slapped his hands away. She still had a really big smile on her face, having seen Max win the race and the championship at the same time.
You still held Isabella's hand as you began the short walk towards the podium, but she squeezed it tighter to grab your attention. Your smile plummeted and dread instantly filled your heart as you heard your daughter's words, "mama look, it's daddy," she pointed at him with her free hand.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 14 hours
Text
The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16
Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k
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To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.
“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.
“Nothing happened, dad.”
“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”
It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.
“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”
You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 
“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”
You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”
“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”
“Isä! No!”
Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”
The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 
“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
“Kimi.”
“Fuck.” 
“Yeah.”
You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 
“The police station.”
“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”
Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”
“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”
“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.
“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”
“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”
“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”
His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”
The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 
“That wasn’t a denial.”
You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”
“But we’re on the top floor.”
You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.
“You’re still not denying it.”
“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.
“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”
You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”
“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 
“You hate him, why would you follow him?”
“It doesn’t matter why.”
“It does to me.” 
Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 
“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”
The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.
“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 
“He was just drunk.” 
“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.
“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”
“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.
“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”
He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”
“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”
“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 
“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.
His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”
It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 
By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 
Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.
The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 
“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”
He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”
He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.
“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”
They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 
“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”
Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.
“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”
“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”
“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”
“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”
“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 
“And you, what did you do, dad?”
“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”
You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 
“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”
It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”
“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.
“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”
“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”
You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”
“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”
“Fair enough. Love you.”
“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”
“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.
“I support it now.”
“What changed your mind?”
You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”
“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.
Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”
“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.
“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”
The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.
You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.
“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.
“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”
Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”
“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”
“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”
“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I will.”
“Answer the question or go out with me?”
“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.
Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.
“But not anymore.”
Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”
“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”
“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”
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vanteguccir · 22 hours
Text
All Too Well | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Chris misplace his priorities.
Warning: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.
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Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.
At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.
Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.
At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.
With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.
That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.
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Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.
And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.
"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."
Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.
And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.
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"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."
Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.
"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."
Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.
"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."
Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.
"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."
"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"
Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.
"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"
Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.
"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."
Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.
"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"
Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.
With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.
"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"
Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.
The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.
And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.
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The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.
His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.
Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.
The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.
As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.
Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.
But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.
With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.
On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.
When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.
"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.
Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.
Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.
For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.
"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.
Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.
Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.
Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.
"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."
Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.
"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.
The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.
"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."
"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.
Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.
She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.
"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."
Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.
"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."
Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.
With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.
"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."
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My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
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al1fers-haven · 1 day
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"Bring your kid to work day."
Alastor fluff - a continuation of 'Almost Instictual' and 'Instinct.'
"Alastor, love." The radio demon turned around, looking at your disheveled frame before eying the baby in your arms. A gentle smile overtook your features as you attempted to not just fall over and go to sleep right there. "Y/n. Dear, you're not supposed to be up and about yet! Go back and rest-" You shook your head, putting a finger up as you shushed him and continued to rock the two-month-old in your arms. Taking a deep breath before speaking once again.
" I need you to take Maria out today, or just away from me for a little bit- I need to sleep and my stomach has been hurting so much. Please-" Alastor watched as you walked up to him and gently gave him the sleeping girl. He stiffened at the contact. "Y/n- I have a meeting today-" You waved your hand, dismissing his statement and laying back down in bed. You looked horrible. Still recovering from the C-section they had put you through after you went into labor. "I need sleep, I need time away so I don't strangle her. Please just take her for the day, or get a babysitter- I don't care."
Alastor wasn't someone who had much shame or could be embarrassed easily. It wasn't a secret that he would do things without thinking, and this moment was an example of just how bad that was.
"Is thou your offspring, Alastor?" Zestial poked a little black claw into the baby's face, a small chuckle leaving his form as the baby grabbed onto it. A babble left Maria's mouth before Alastor realized that he was being spoken to. "Biologically? No....But I have relations with her mother. Who is recovering from getting surgery and was asked to have the little thing accompany me today while she sleeps." The green man nodded. "Thou was domesticated my eyes see." Alastor laughed a bit himself, gently pushing zestials finger away from the child face before exiting the elevator. Had he truly been that tamed by you?
"Alastor, zestial-" Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose, staring at the board at the end of the room with her back turned on them. Ready to yell at the two men before she turned around and just stood there. Staring at Alastor.
"Is that a fucking child?"
Alastor gently glared at the woman and covered Maria's ears. "Whoops." Rosie jumped up from her seat and ran towards the two. Smile as bright as ever as Alastor let her take the baby. "Oh, there's my goddaughter! Hi Maria! It's anti-Rosie!" Maria giggled a little bit and grabbed Rosie's hat. Alastor stretched a bit at the loss of weight in his arms. "Alastor where did you..get this child." Alastor deadpanned, gently taking Maria back from Rosie and ignoring the woman pleads to keep holding her. "She's mine, technically. Now- Maria here will be attending today's meeting." Rosie snickered, returning to her seat with Alastor. "Okay then..." The room shifted their gazes over to the doors, three voices laughing about how stupid the meetings were booming throughout the room now as the vees entered the little room.
"You five are late. I expected better than you. Including you, zestial." the old man just chuckled and nodded. The vees seated themselves without a care in the world.
Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now, we are all here because-" Valentino raised his hand like a child, his eyes on Alastor who had a baby in his grasp. Carmilla groaned loudly. "What, Valentino?" "Why does Alastor have a child?" Vox glitched a bit, looking at the red demon who seemed completely unphased as the baby girl started to play with his ears. "Okay let's get the elephant out of the room already!" Carmilla stood up, pointing to Alastor and Maria. "The radio demon we all have known to be an asshole now has a baby. Alastor is now 'dating' a woman who has a child and she is not well so he brought her here. Any objections?" "Should we trust that fossil with a baby?" Velvette giggled a bit, raising her hand as well as rosie and alastor glared at her. "I ask you don't swear in her presence. Her mother would kill me" Alastor quickly added on. Vox gawking at the display. "So- you got someone to sleep with you?" Alastor shook his head no. "No! Of course not, i do not with for such....nasty activities. Just dating her mother. Isn't that right maria." "Carmilla, would you mind holding her?" She nodded as alastor handed the baby to her, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he fixed his suit. Looking over to see the baby being passed around. His static screeched to a halt. As soon as the baby got to vox, who was holding her normally. She started to cry. Everyone silent in the room as the baby was passed on to velvette. Who was surprisingly good with calming her down. As soon as she got to valentino tho he didn't know what to do, grimacing as he held the child up like simba. Alastor quickly took the baby and glared at valentino, holding her tight. "Now may we start the meeting? Thank you.”
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anadiasmount · 13 hours
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we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…
wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍
“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.
that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.
"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.
"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.
"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?
you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.
you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.
the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.
your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.
you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.
after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.
you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.
he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.
"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.
"how was training?"
jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."
you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.
"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"
"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.
"jude."
"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."
jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"
"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.
in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."
jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.
jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"
"well i beg to differ-"
"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"
jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"
"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.
"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.
"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.
"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?
the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.
as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.
as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.
"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.
"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.
"thank you."
"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.
you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.
you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?
you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.
when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.
jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.
he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.
when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.
"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."
jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.
"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.
"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"
"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."
"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.
"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."
after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.
"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."
after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.
"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.
"jude right?"
"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."
hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."
"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.
when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.
the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.
"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.
jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.
jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.
like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.
it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?
all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.
“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”
“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.
“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”
jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.
"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."
"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."
"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.
"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.
jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.
jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.
"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."
"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"
your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"
"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."
"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.
"what's your promise jude?"
"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."
"jude-"
"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.
you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.
"you love me jude?"
"more than what you think."
"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.
"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."
jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.
"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."
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saintobio · 11 hours
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sincerely yours. (10)
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↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 
tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,
notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3
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series masterlist -> episode eleven
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“It’s a little weird.”
What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming. 
She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be. 
Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now? 
If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place? 
She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you. 
But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life? 
Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all. 
Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that? 
“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”
“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”
The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”
I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?” 
“Was he like that with you before?” 
“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”
To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty. 
“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.” 
Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.
“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”
“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point. 
Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?” 
The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.” 
“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”
The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.” 
Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”
“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”
“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.” 
He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.” 
As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet. 
The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.  
Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”
Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”
“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused. 
To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?” 
Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons. 
Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare. 
— —
You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction. 
To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.
You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband? 
She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married. 
Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.
Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else. 
Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.
If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.
Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu. 
You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal. 
It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her. 
As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman. 
And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong. 
Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.
Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own. 
Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.
If only you could be like her. 
As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.
“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.” 
A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?
“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse. 
“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”
Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line. 
“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots. 
The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.” 
Oh… “He bought more than one?” 
Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony. 
“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”
Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.  
This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi. 
There was no you in that vision anymore. 
The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.
You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband? 
Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one. 
At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free. 
Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them. 
You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest. 
Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?
“Giddy up!” 
Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.
My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy. 
Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.  
“Ah!” 
Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part. 
“Willow!” 
You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.
“Nooo! Willow, no!”
Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.
You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell. 
“Willow!” 
Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness! 
You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all. 
That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon. 
— —
“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.
“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”
He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”
“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”
“Y/N?”
“Y/N!”
“Are you out of your mind?!” 
You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.
“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”
“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”
“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!” 
“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!” 
The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension. 
“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.” 
You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”
Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you. 
With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.” 
To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place. 
“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.” 
Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy. 
“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?” 
There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.
But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat. 
Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.
“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.” 
Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.” 
“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”
“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…” 
Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest. 
“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.” 
Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind. 
It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right? 
You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again. 
You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself. 
As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.” 
That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever? 
Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy. 
The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital. 
So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you? 
“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed. 
Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.” 
You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son. 
Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?
If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined. 
And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse. 
Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself? 
The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage. 
You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family. 
Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight. 
“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.” 
You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?” 
The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it. 
“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.” 
Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else. 
Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired. 
“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?” 
She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.” 
“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?” 
“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.” 
You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists. 
Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there. 
And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi. 
“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”
You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera? 
You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet. 
“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.” 
Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.” 
Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life. 
Both choices had no happy endings. 
— —
When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind. 
Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were? 
He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse. 
“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!” 
“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?” 
Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him? 
According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them. 
And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you. 
Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in. 
How sickeningly sweet. 
At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality. 
It was out of love that he let you go. 
You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too. 
Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife. 
You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore. 
So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses? 
She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you. 
He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off. 
And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries. 
This woman was all he needed. 
But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider. 
— —
The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important. 
Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it? 
You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman. 
Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you. 
How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it? 
Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar. 
How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life? 
Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate? 
God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third? 
You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing. 
“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions. 
It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him. 
“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”
Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you? 
“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.” 
Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.
“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”
You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget? 
As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?” 
“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart.  “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.” 
“Y/N.”
“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”
“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.” 
“But—”
“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”
— —
It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore. 
Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now. 
He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway. 
As for you, well… 
“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?” 
He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”
Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire. 
These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor. 
A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon? 
Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news. 
“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.” 
Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?” 
By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy. 
“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son. 
“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.” 
Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?” 
Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.” 
Monaco? Why would you be there?
Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?” 
“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”
No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself? 
Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here. 
Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth. 
“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?
“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”
How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over? 
“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”
Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now? 
Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces? 
Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ��Kemi help me out.” 
He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.
Yet none of it was given. 
And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi? 
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wildestdreamsblog · 2 days
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Latibule Season 2: III
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!
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Masterlist, Latibule 2.II
Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.
“Hyung, is it always like that?”
“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.
“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”
Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.
Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.
“What brought this on?”
“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”
Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.
He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.
“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”
Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.
“Why?”
“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”
“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.
“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.
Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”
To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”
“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”
Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”
 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.
“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.
“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”
The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.
He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.
And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.
One morning, it finally happened. There you were.
Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.
That was you, he was sure.
Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.
“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.
Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”
Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.
“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”
“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.
Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.
“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”
Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.
“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.
—-
Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.
Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  
Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.
Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.
So where was he?!
He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.
He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.
“At Seoul, hyung-“
“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”
“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”
Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”
Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”
“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.
“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“
His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.
There was you.
It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.
He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.
Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?
But no.
He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.
It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.
With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”
But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.
And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.
How did this happen to you?
Was it because of the incident?
Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?
Or did he miss all the glaring signs?
Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”
The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.
You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.
Until it did.
Until you understood each word written in that book.
“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?
Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.
You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.
He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.
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reminiscingtonight · 2 days
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Pretending
Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
Word Count: 955
A/N: Had to celebrate Fletcher's new album with a new fic
[WOSO Masterlist]
“I think I should kiss you.”
You laugh, pulling the older girl closer to you. “Well I’m not stopping you.”
Aitana simply snorts in response, burying her face in your neck. You pretend it doesn’t tickle when she breathes out deeply, arms tightening around your waist. “How’s your mami?”
“I think you see her more than I do, Tana.”
It’s been three years but the longing from moving away from home still hasn’t faded. Barcelona’s always been the goal. Ever since you could remember. A product from La Masia, you knew you always wanted to play for the first team.
Sometimes the things you want aren’t always in the cards, hence the detour in your career to Manchester. Ona went to United but you went to City, both of you wanting to develop your football skills some more in a new city. Although your best friend has already returned back to Barcelona, you still have a little more to go before you could go back. 
“Shh,” Aitana giggles, clumsily raising a finger to press against your lips. 
It makes you feel warm, seeing how laidback and relaxed the midfielder seems right now. With all of the pressure she experiences on the daily, it’s rare to see the older girl as bubbly as she is now. After winning the Ballon d’Or, her own expectations have only increased tenfold. 
“Gotta go pee,” she mumbles, finally pushing off of you. You make the move to follow but Aitana presses a hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. “No, get me another drink please.” 
You have an amused smile playing on your lips as she makes her leave, dragging some of the other girls with her. 
Ona watches you watch Aitana, sighing under her breath. 
You try to ignore her, but Ona’s never one to mince her words. “I don’t get it.”
You shrug. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
It’s always been the three of you, the trio of musketeers taking on Spain’s youth teams and now the senior one together. You’ve grown up together, experienced all the good and bad by each other’s sides. 
So safe to say Ona’s been here through the years to see how much you’ve fallen for Aitana. 
And just as much as you’ve fallen for Aitana, the older girl seems to be just as allergic to admitting her feelings. 
It’s obvious to just about everyone how much Aitana loves you. It’s in all the small things. The way she makes sure to tune in all of your matches. The way she sends you thoughtless musings every day. The way she always remembers your coffee order whenever you return to town.
But Aitana’s never been one to commit to anything other than football. 
You’ve always known this, so you haven’t done too much to try to convince her otherwise. No matter how much Ona’s always bugging the two of you to make things official or for you to move on, you’ve stayed steadfast in your belief that things will work out in the end. 
At the end of the day no one’s getting hurt but yourself. You’d be willing to wait for as long as it takes if it means it’ll be the two of you at the end. Because you know that’s the only outcome in this drawn out affair. 
You love Aitana and Aitana loves you, so there’s really no other ending to this. So if Aitana wants to pretend like the two of you don’t love each other, you’re willing to play her game. 
“How long are you going to do this?”
“As long as she lets me.”
Ona looks like she’s going to blow an aneurysm but follows you to the counter regardless. Despite your silent pleas for her to drop the topic, she doesn’t. “This is going to wreck you when it blows up in your face.”
“Then I won’t let it blow up.” 
Ona swipes the drinks away from your hands before you can grab them. “Listen to me. I love you and I love Aita but the two of you really need to figure this out. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sighing, you press a soft kiss against the side of her head. No matter how annoying you find Ona’s constant pestering, you know it’s only coming from a place of love. “Thanks Oni. But I will be okay. Please don’t lose any sleep over this.”
Ona looks like she wants to say more, but she bites her tongue.
Instead, the two of you catch up. You’re happy that Ona’s settling in well in Barcelona, but the downside to her going home is that the two of you no longer get to share every moment together. Ona’s laughing at your reenactment of Leila having to deal with the spider in your shared home when Aitana finally returns.
Her eyes light up when she spots you from across the room, hurriedly waving at you. 
You have to muffle your laughter at her drunken state but smile back to her all the same.
You don’t let it show, but Ona’s words cut deep. 
It’s heavy on your heart when you drop her off later, when Ona has to peel Aitana off of you, promising to get the two of them to bed safely. Her words are still ringing around your head when you get a drunken rambling goodnight text from Aitana when you’re getting ready to catch the redeye home.
You’ve been waiting for Aitana for as long as you remember, and you’ll continue waiting for her until she’s ready. 
Aitana’s everything to you.
So if she wants to keep on pretending, that’s exactly what you’ll do.
Even if it cuts you to the bone.
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adventuringblind · 2 days
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Don't Wanna Do This Again
Loscar x Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort
Summary: Logan finds out about his car at the 2024 Australian GP and it's affecting him more then he wants to let on.
Warnings: Sad Logan, Protective Oscar, Mildly feral Reader, Mentions of a past suicide attempt, insecurity.
Notes: Nobody asked for this but ima do it anyway
Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me :)
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Of all the things that could've happened, this was not the one he was expecting. Being punished for a crime he didn't commit... it makes his skin crawl with anger and insecurity.
In the end, he knew it had to be done. Alex has more experience, he's the better driver and their best chance at scoring any kind of points. Logan had spent the last few hours pacing the room, mulling over all the reasons this is logical. The reasons he shouldn't be upset about this.
It just - it doesn't cancel out all the feelings he's having about it. No matter how much he rationalizes it, he's still upset. With Alex, James, the team, but most of all - with himself. He's not good enough to be here. He's here for one reason and that is to be the token American and bring in more American fans because money. Which can't be good for the people getting the money, considering he's probably getting all their eyes stuck in the back of their heads from rolling them so hard each time he crashes out.
He needs her or Oscar, or both of them. Immediately before he can drown in the waves of emotions that are raging. Until then, he's going to continue the repetitive motion of pacing this hotel room. Further allowing himself to think a hole into the floor.
Then the door slams open. "Logan!" She does end up sending them both to the ground since he wasn't expecting the full force of her weight. "You weren't there so we panicked. Searched all of Williams before we ran into Alex and he told us what happened..." She's all the way wrapped around him now despite having to wriggle her limbs between his body and the floor.
"She tried to punch him." Oscar, who's stoic expression to most reads a million emotions to him, decided to sit on the floor next to them. He heaves Logan's head into his lap. One of his favorite spots because his thighs.
"...Did you get him?"
"No! Oscar stopped me before I could! The he dragged me out of the paddock because apparently setting fire to your garage 'won't solve the problem.'" She does her best Oscar impersonation. Something about it makes him feel calmer. It may not be getting his car back, but he knows they are willing to fight for him.
"Arson is never the answer; sabotage is." The words leave his lips so casually that Logan and the female have to take a second to register it.
Logan blinks up at him. "Osc, what did you do?"
"Absolutely nothing."
There is a silence that follows because both of them know he's lying. Oscar is sneaky and ruthless when he wants to be. Logan shoots him a look of disbelief.
"Okay, so I might have moved a bunch of the mechanics tools while they were out of the garage prepping for the change of parts. They may or may not be hidden around the garage and in inconvenient locations... and I might have also moved everyone's headphones around."
Logan nearly bursts. The small act was still one that was in his defense. Not blatant or in the teams face, just Oscar making them think it's karma or something.
The female, who's been peppering any area within reach with kisses, freezes when Oscar finishes. "How did I not notice this?!"
"You were busy trying to escape from Lando to fight James. It wasn't that difficult, really."
She grumbles something incoherent into Logan's chest. Obviously flustered at the idea of not being able to take revenge the way she intended and Oscar having all the fun in the meantime.
It's nice, the soft tender touches and the loving words. How he can say with such confidence that the two people here with him, comforting him, when they could be doing anything else, that they love him.
Logan chokes. The weight of all the emotions finally breaking through the dam everyone else is trying to poke holes in. The hands that were holding her gently despite her death grip, are now clutching at the fabric of her shirt like his life depends on it.
"Shh, let it out now Lo. This can't have been easy." Oscar is still carding his hands through the mess of blonde hair. "William's made a poor choice in the eyes of most."
"But it's the most logical choice! It makes sense they would give Alex my car. Why can't I just suck it up and move on?"
The is a soft hum against his chest, then a thumb - her thumb - stroking his jawline in a comforting repetitive motion. "Because you're allowed to feel, Logan. You're allowed to hurt. What you're not allowed to do is let this break you. You've spent all winter training, working, practicing, and building your confidence to let this one thing destroy that. If you need to scream, if you need to punch something - then fine." It takes a second to register that she's also crying. "Just don't try to leave us again... please."
"I'm not leaving. Not when I have you two here. Not when I still have people to prove wrong."
He can hear the smirk on Oscar's voice despite not being in the best position to confirm it. "Good, because I need you to record the engineers and James for me. And we would miss your pretty face, but you already know that."
They stay there until the sun goes down. Just breathing, being in the moment. Their phones off so nobody can bother them.
Until a knock on the door has Oscar moving. The other two groan at the loss, but are happy at the discovery of food.
"When did you order room service?"
"While you two were asleep."
Logan must have really been out of it given he had no idea he was asleep. The smell of food makes his mouth water, he hadn't eaten since the morning.
More then that - Oscar is indulging in his comfort food. "I figured you could use a cheat day after this."
"I should have bad days more often if it means you'll get me food." It's a half hearted laugh mixed with a grimace.
"No, you can have this whenever you want. Don't need to wait for the bad days to do something nice for yourself." The, still half asleep, female who is refusing to detach from him, says into his shoulder.
It's not like he can stop himself from feeling the whirlwind of emotions, but he has people to ground him.
Because the bad days come, but it makes the good days even better.
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amongemeraldclouds · 2 days
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Ruin The Friendship
A letter gets mailed to its intended recipient. A letter confessing your feelings. A letter you never meant to send.
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Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader
Warning: fluff, no use of y/n
Author’s note: My final entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt five. This was such a fun challenge, thanks for hosting @thatdammchickennugget ♡ 1k words.
✿ Masterlist
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“What letter? I didn’t have any mail to send, Daisy,” I ask our house elf as she updates me about the chores she’s done for the day.
“The letter beneath your bed. Daisy found it and to thank you kind miss for saving Daisy from your father’s fury yesterday, Daisy went the extra mile to send it,” she announces proudly.
“You mean,” I whisper, a sinking feeling growing in my chest, “the letter containing my deep and honest thoughts and feelings, about the boy I love, that I swore to myself I would never - and I mean never - send?” I exhale, feeling the edges of a panic attack creep in.
Daisy frowns. “Sorry miss, Daisy did not know. Daisy thought she was helping,” she apologizes, cowering in the corner.
“Stand up, Daisy. I’m not going to hit you,” I reassure her. “But I could hit myself so I don’t have to attend class tomorrow and face the mortifying events that are sure to follow.”
I jump up from my bed and nod, waving my wand. I could do that.
“Miss, please!” Daisy pleads. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s Daisy’s fault,” she hisses. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid Daisy!” She chides, punctuating each word by banging her head against my drawers.
“Stop, Daisy,” I reach out, touching her shoulder. "Fine” I sigh, “no one is hurting themselves.”
I am just going to have to go to school tomorrow and die from shame.
The letter
My sweet Enzo,  It’s ironic you admire me for my bravery for taking down our childhood bullies and for being one of the top students in our DADA class. Yet here I am in a moment of weakness, thinking of you. Actually, even when I feel strong, defeated, or happy, I still think of you. In an ideal world, I’d be brave enough to tell you face to face. But we live in an imperfect world where hearts can break and relationships end, far more often than anyone would like. So if it saves our friendship, I can and must lock my heart away. I wish I can tell you when or how it happened, but I myself don’t understand. All I know is that I’m hopelessly in love with you. There, I said it.
The aftermath
I peer into Enzo’s dorm, head snaking past the door.
Please, please, please, let it be vacant. Let it be vacant, I chant in my head.
I sigh when silence greets me and move the rest of my body inside, sagging against the door in relief.
What are the odds that Enzo has already read a letter that just arrived this morning? He’s probably at quidditch practice, which means I still have a shot at saving myself from utter mortification. And more importantly, to save our friendship.
I scan his room and hurry towards the table littered with books, dried ink splotches stain the oak wood. If the letter were anywhere, it would be somewhere he—
I yelp when a door opens and turn towards Enzo stepping out from the bathroom with damp hair clinging to his scalp, water dripping down his sculpted chest, running along his toned abs. All hail quidditch.
He clears his throat and I bite my treacherous tongue - the one that unconsciously moved across my lips. Salazar, if I don’t get my act together, I won’t even need some stupid letter to reveal my feelings.
My cheeks burn as I return my gaze to his amused expression. “What the hell are you doing here and why are you naked?” I accuse. That’s right, I’m just blushing because I’m angry.
He adjusts the towel across his hips and I turn away, shoving the image of his toned figure from my mind, trying not to imagine whatever else is beneath his towel. “First of all, not naked,” he states.
“And more importantly, you’re asking me what I am doing, taking a shower, here in my dorm?” he points to the floor for emphasis. I wince and kick myself internally.
“I thought you’d be at quidditch practice,” I try. “I just - I just lost something and thought it might be with you.”
“What is it? I can help you look,” he offers, moving towards me and I step back.
“Enz please, put some clothes on first!” I plead, reminding myself to breathe.
I stop midstep when I feel something cool and solid behind me and I realize I’ve backed into a wall. Why the hell is Enzo prowling towards me like I’m his prey?
I close my eyes when he stops just in front of me, heat radiating from his body. I will myself to disappear, to fuse with the wall, to—
“By any chance,” he starts, “the thing you’re looking for. Is it white and made of paper—”
No, no, no, no, I chant this time, my eyes opening to stare at him in horror.
He continues, “the one with your handwriting scrawled inside?”
All the words leave my mind.
He smirks, “it would be a shame if you lost it and wanted it back because I rather liked it.”
“Y-you do?” I whisper.
His smirk gives way to a warm smile. “Darling, you’re more courageous than I am and I still admire you for your bravery. You managed to write it. Here’s my response: I love you too.”
“Well technically, I never meant to send it. It was Daisy,” I try to explain.
“So I have Daisy to thank. I’ll bring her flowers next time,” he says, making a mental note before continuing. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time too, but I was also worried it could ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same.”
“Now that we’ve established we feel the same…” I begin but trail off when he rests his arm on the wall above me and leans in. My breath hitches.
“I won’t need my clothes until much later,” he ends my sentence.
It’s not what I was going to say but the second I open my lips to protest, his mouth crashes into mine and nothing else matters.
166 notes · View notes
auras-moonstone · 2 days
Note
hiii i rlly love ur writing so if u cld write this i’d actually pass out ‼️
u can pick urself if it’ll be jack, Ethan, hockey player Ethan or even smth else! But what im thinking abt is like where he breaks up with reader because hes convinced he lost his feelings towards her but later on realized he didnt?? Hope u have a good day 🙁
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ all you had to do was stay
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ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.4K
ᡣ𐭩 pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 summary: convinced his feelings are gone, ethan breaks up with y/n. when he wins the championship, he realizes he made a mistake.
ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: heartbreak. angst. make-up. fluff.
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ethan truly thought his feelings for y/n had washed away. but it’s wasn’t until now, looking around the arena for her, having just won the hockey championship, that he realized that maybe he had rushed into conclusions and fucked everything up.
the team went to a bar to celebrate, and while his teammates drank and danced, ethan moped by the bar with a drink in his hand, replaying in his head, like a sad movie scene, the moment he ended things with y/n.
why had he been so stupid? he had set in his mind the idea that hockey should be above everything and anyone else, that it was the only thing that mattered. and not only he had managed to slowly tear the most important bond in his life, but he had also fooled himself into thinking the feelings weren’t there anymore.
“hey, man. i’m going home, tara’s waiting for me. talk to you later?” chad asked.
ethan forced a smile and nodded. “yeah, go. i’m leaving in a few, too.”
chad walked out of the bar, and ethan’s heart reached another level of heaviness. his best friend was going home to celebrate with his girlfriend, he had managed to maintain his relationship while having the exact same responsibilities than ethan. the difference? chad had never failed to find balance and see how important life outside hockey was. ethan hadn’t, and now that hockey was over for a while, he realized he had nothing left.
with an emptiness no amount of drinks could ever fill, he walked back to the dorms, where some people were still on cloud nine from the win. he was congratulated, patted in the back, yet he could not enjoy his win completely. not when the guiltiness and regret lingered heavily over him. was it too late to try get back on track the relationship he had drove off the road?
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the celebration was certainly overwhelming for y/n because everything reminded her of ethan and the way he had locked her out when she was letting him in. hell, she was ready to say the l-word when he pushed her aside. the way he had broken her heart was one she remembered all too well, every word, every expression, every little movement.
ethan hovered over her, standing as she sat on the couch. frown on his face, pained expression, as if the act of letting out the words physically hurt him. “i don’t think i- i’m not sure if i… still have feelings for you. i don’t know, i just, it’s not the same as it was a months ago. it’s as if something is missing.”
“did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that you put hockey first?”
“y/n that’s my future. of course i’m going to put hockey first.”
“sorry, let me rephrase that. did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that hockey is all you care about? because it’s always about that. you have stopped having time for me since you became captain. do you even remember the last time you stayed over? that we went on a date? that we spend time together without you worrying over the championship or some other fucking match?”
“y/n…” he sighed.
“well, i can remember. three months, that was the last time you acted like a boyfriend. something was indeed missing in this relationship. you.”
“hockey is everything to me, y/n/n.”
“yes, and that’s the fucking problem, ethan. your whole life can’t revolve sorely on a sport. but you clearly can’t see that, so this is useless.”
that was the last time she spoke to him, but not the last she had seen him. it was impossible not to do that, he was blackmore’s hockey star, he was fucking everywhere. she, on the other hand, managed to hide in the shadows, so she made sure she stayed hidden and not bump into him. until now.
she was leaving tara’s dorm when her eyes caught his wide frame. her feet became one with the floor, not allowing her to move. like magnet, his attention quickly fell on her.
“y/n” her name fell out of his mouth absentmindedly.
at the sound of his rough voice, she snapped out of her daze. her lips parted, but she didn’t know what to say. and then his feet kept going until he was standing right before her. was it too much to ask to disappear?
“hi.” he said after a couple of seconds of silence.
“hi.” her soft voice warmed his heart, and he had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from bringing her into his arms. “um… congratulations. on the win.”
“thanks.” for the first time in the night, he truly felt like smiling.
“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” why was she still talking to him? her brain screamed ‘get out of here’ while her heart told her to stay.
“i wasn’t feeling it.” ethan shrugged.
y/n frowned. “you… weren’t feeling it? ethan, what are you talking about? you’ve worked so hard for this win.”
ethan let out a humourless laugh. “the funny thing is… it wasn’t until i lifted the cup that i realize that i wasn’t happy with the win.”
the girl blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. ethan landry, the boy who lived for hockey, was saying he wasn’t happy with winning a championship. what was wrong with the world? “i don’t understand.”
“what is succeeding if you don’t have anyone to celebrate it with? that trophy was a reminder of what i pushed away in order to get it. it made me feel miserable.”
“ethan…”
his sad gaze found hers. “what i’m trying to say is that i miss you, and that the win means nothing if you’re not with me. i looked around the stands, you weren’t there and it felt like a punch to the gut.”
she was certainly not ready to hear that. “let me remind you it was what you wanted, you ended it, ethan. you put hockey first, and it got us here.” maybe she was being a bit harsh, especially after he was pouring his heart out.
“i know. fuck. don’t i know it.” he was not going to cry. if y/n somehow managed to find it in her to forgive him, it was not going to be out of pity. but he wanted to sob so badly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i was so fucking blind, and i hurt you.”
hurt was an understatement. ethan had absolutely broke her, and she had been trying to pick up the pieces of the mess he had made.
“i want to punch myself for everything i’ve done. for taking this long to realize i made a huge mistake. i don’t want for my life to revolve around hockey.”
y/n nodded. “that’s a good realization.”
“i don’t know what to say. there’s no justification for what i did, i was stupid and that’s the only truth. i… i want us back.” the anguish was written on his face. “i don’t know what to do to fix it.”
“all you had to do was stay… you had me in the palm of your hand. i would’ve done anything for you.”
“i know, you were too good for me. and i promise you i’ll work everyday to be the person you deserve, if you let me.” he put a strand of hair behind her ear. “i’m never making the same mistake again. i love you. you don’t have to decide now, take as long as you need. i’d wait forever.”
“you know it can’t be like before, right? you can’t keep this relationship in the lowest rank of your priorities.”
“i know, and i won’t. i love hockey, going professional is still my goal but now i know that my dream isn’t only hockey, is having you by my side while i play it.”
y/n slowly broke into a smile. “i would hate to see you succeed without me.” she grimaced as soon as the words clicked. “shit, that sounded so awful. i didn’t mean that i don’t want you to succeed unless you’re with me. that would be so bitchy, and i know you hurt me but i would neve-“
ethan couldn’t help himself, he cut her rambling with a soft kiss. “you’re the absolute cutest. i love it when you ramble.”
“it’s rude to interrupt someone, landry. you need to learn some manners.” she gave him a quick peck. “i guess i’m taking you back, or whatever.”
the hockey player smiled like a little kid and lifted her up on his arms. “i love you. did you know that?”
“i know it now. and i love you, too.” she wrapped her legs around his waist. “now, let’s go celebrate, captain.”
“fuck, yes. i have so many ideas.” the mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes made her stomach swirl.
“i’m down for anything if it’s with you.”
181 notes · View notes
sfznyxio · 2 days
Text
❝ 𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ❞
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. everyone says you’re the curse of your own legacy. dubbed “the worst ruler ever in history”, power is all you cared about. your selfishness leads to the downfall of your own kingdom, with you murdered at the hands of people you thought could be trusted. somehow the next day, you regress to the day you become the sole successor to the throne after the previous sovereign passed. can you prove your worth and show them you have what it takes to be the sovereign in this timeline?
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, bronya, dan heng, dr. ratio, gepard, jing yuan, ruan mei, sunday, trailblazer (caelus & stelle)
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. f!reader. royal au, time travel au. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. 1.9k words. headcanon. inspired by billion manhwas that have this trope lol. the royal family is absolutely horrible and reader hates them. reader experiences dissociative amnesia due to trauma from said family and the previous timeline. lots of self-doubt. death is everywhere in this fic. a dark joke about betrayal (bronya). reader has hair (gepard). murder of a loved one and revenge (sunday).
𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. new year, new blog, and new fic but two months later! on spring break so i’m happy i got to write again, even if it’s just a little bit. watch me disappear for another six months or so because grad school’s a bitch.
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𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈.
rumor has it among a group of chivalrous knights from a forgotten land that their deity, the god of beauty idrila, is in your kingdom. you happen to come across one of them when you snuck out of the castle. the knight introduces himself as argenti, a knight of beauty… a very strange one.
what person talks to objects as if they’re people and compliments them that they’re beautiful? as soon as he lays on you, he’s in front of you on one knee and kisses your hand, declaring that you’re beautiful, even as beautiful as idrila themself. surely you’re weirded out, but he seems sincere. 
there’s a possibility that your advisor sent a search party after you. you generally hate being escorted on your outings due to your upbringing, but going back there isn’t where your mind wants to be, so you ask the knight if he could be your company. ah, how could he resist a beautiful lady like yourself?
will he still see you as such when you ascend the throne?
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𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐀.
house rand is known for their strong military leadership and is a unique case of nobility. majority of its lineage are commoners, going through a selection process as children to be adopted by the current leader and be trained as their successor. shortly before your ascension, former leader cocolia rand passed away. no one knows the cause of death, except her daughter.
marchioness bronya pays a visit to introduce herself as the new leader of the house. the two of you express condolences for your families, though you try not to flinch at how she praises the late sovereign like everyone else. she believes you can keep secrets well, which isn’t entirely wrong, so she asks to borrow you. you already know the topic of discussion: the actual cause of death of madam cocolia.
it’s me. her dialogue muffles into white noise. madam cocolia has made a deal with her daughter to kill her if anything happens. hm…? did you put trust in someone to stop you if you ever went insane? can you stab me in the back if that’s the case? your mouth runs on its own, and she’s in shock. you brush it off as a joke afterwards, saying she should ignore it. yet you can’t yourself as it’s been haunting you since.
do you trust her to end your suffering, for the good of the kingdom?
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𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.
the archivist strikes you as someone who dislikes bothersome people, so you try not to spend too much time researching your condition. though upon meeting dan heng at the library, he appears courteous and doesn’t  mind your company. what leaves you puzzled is that he doesn’t question your sudden interest in time travel and regression. instead, he leads you upstairs.
on the way there you trip and he grabs onto you, triggering a flashback of the mob capturing you with tight holds during your escape. realizing the intensity of his grip on you because your body’s shaking, he lets go and adjusts his hand placement to your back so you can get up. then he makes sure you’re alright before reaching the data bank.
he assumes that you’re still traumatized from your family’s death based on your reaction to that memory. everyone believes the same thing, and it’s definitely wrong. but you can’t magically convince them that you’ve seen the future where they’ll die because of you. however, his intentions make you feel at ease. he says he’ll be nearby for help. is it really okay to rely on someone else for once?
will he stick to his word and catch you when you fall to your death?
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𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎.
the intelligentsia guild believes that knowledge is a valuable resource to obtain various mediums of information across the world. having one of their own at the castle not only as a professor at the royal academy, but as the advisor to the next sovereign is quite an honor. dr. ratio may be a brilliant scholar, but his interpersonal skills… not so much.
there isn’t a day where you’re spared from his lectures. to be fair, you’ve done questionable things after your family’s passing: sneaking out of the castle, researching time travel and regression, and raising raccoons that almost destroyed your garden and your servants’ sanities. nevertheless, you’re irritated by his emphasis on your reputation as a ruler. does it look like i want to be one? you storm out without a second thought.
after calming down, you search for him to apologize. you should’ve told him about how you felt instead of letting out an outburst. unfortunately he has gone home, but leaves a note that addresses your “odd hobbies” - ways to not alert the servants during your escapades, literature of topics of interest that aren’t in the library, and interventions of minimizing the chaos of your familiars. you take it as an apology; he’s more considerate than you think even if he doesn’t admit it.
can he stay by your side if you decide to abdicate the throne?
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𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃.
house landau is the “shield” of the kingdom, serving the royal family for generations. their current leader count landau is a stern man from what you recall the several times you visited him as a child. now he’s forced to retire due to his illness, replaced by his eldest and only son gepard, your childhood friend.
the two of you haven’t interacted much as you reach the training period for succession, whereas his father drills him to be insubordinate to the royal family as they have been. with your parents gone and the count ill, you can see him whenever you wish. but how should you approach him? more importantly, does he still see you as a friend? you give up instantly, exhausted from your mental trip to the past.
amidst the flames, he yells at you to run as shadows consume him. you shoot up - bloodshot eyes, rapid heartbeat, and heavy breaths. a pair of arms engulfs you, one hand rubbing your back and the other buried in your hair. rest, i’m here, he whispers against your forehead. you start to lose it, sobbing uncontrollably on his chest.
is this what giving in to your selfish gains feels like?
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.
the sight of citizens flocking to the plaza can be seen from your balcony. 
three people emerge from the crowd, who you recognize as residents of the civilization in the sky: the xianzhou alliance. they have no reason to be here unless it’s important business, and that happens to be you. how forgetful you are.
earlier you test a theory that hopefully changes your tragic fate. it takes courage to act like a jester in front of the council, sending diplomats to invite various factions to forge alliances. the entire court and yourself are amazed that one of the arbiter-generals jing yuan is here in the flesh. the xianzhou rely on themselves for help rather than outsiders, so there must be something that he wants from you.
little did you know while you’re interested in the xianzhou’s manpower, he’s interested in you. his two attendants have never seen their general smitten over someone before; it’s obnoxious. his visits become frequent; his purpose of seeking specific resources is really an excuse to shower you with gifts. he appreciates how headstrong you are throughout the tragedies you faced, wishing you give yourself more credit. he has faith in your capability as a sovereign, even if you don’t agree. 
he’s not here to play with your feelings, is he?
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𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐈.
house ruan is revered by academia as geniuses of the century, yet rarely shows up in public as they care less about being in the spotlight. rather, they dedicate their lives to science. their daughter carries the household name with grace and elegance, though it can’t be said the same with her experiments in which she entrusts you to be her assistant.
lady ruan mei is interested in the concept of life. cycles of birth, growth, and death. existence of the living. development of cognition, emotions, and behaviors. they’re fascinating to her. creating lifeforms makes you feel some sort of sorrow; your creation is modeled after yourself. then you wonder how your family reacted when you were born.
soon you’re asked by the scientist about your existence, and whether you believe the gods can answer that. now that you think about it, were they involved in your regression? the human race worships the power of the heavens: creation and destruction. death is inevitable, but can the gods also rewrite reality? if they choose to send you back in time, did they want you to redeem yourself?
why bother going so far if you’re going to screw up again?
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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.
no one hosts festivities as grand as house oak. under the impression that you’ve been secluded in your room grieving over the previous sovereign, they’ll throw a small party to cheer you up and celebrate your upcoming ascension. the thought of announcing you want to abdicate the throne is tempting, but their efforts will go to waste so you scrap it. might as well keep up a front and plan your next moves.
you’re welcomed into the venue by the high priest sunday, the organizer of this party. you’re feeling nervous, not because of the amount of guests but because of his overwhelming presence. he doesn’t seem familiar, or are you misremembering? do you still feel unwell, your majesty? behind the high priest is a young woman who bears some resemblance to him, and everything all at once falls into place.
his sister is the precious sun of his life, executed by the eclipse. the high priest follows the royal family without hesitation, only for his loyalty to be questioned at her expense. he isn’t the type to act so rash, but for her he’ll go to great lengths to exact his revenge. you lie to the siblings that you’re fine and tell the high priest to take care of her. there’s more than meets the eye regarding your behavior, but he just agrees to not arouse any suspicion.
what secrets have your people been hiding from you?
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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.
there are twin raccoons that practically live in your garden and are your servants’ worst nightmares. somehow they’re kind of like you - living in luxury while rotten to the core. you remember ordering your servants to exterminate them last time, so you take them instead so you won’t freak them out, much to your advisor’s dismay.
later you discover that caelus and stelle are shapeshifters who lost their memories, with their only lead being a magenta-haired woman. to your surprise they love to gossip, which proves themselves useful to be your spies, gathering intel on the current news that could coincide with the ones in the previous timeline. they can also find information about that woman. killing two birds with one stone. 
sometimes you worry about their work ethic, considering how chaotic they can be. for instance, their unhealthy obsession with trash cans. as much as you need them to get the job done, you realize you’re nothing better than your family. those two are extensions of yourself, learning about the world just as you are. so you step back and let them have fun with scraps. they’ll get to their missions eventually.
they appear to be loyal to a fault so there’s no way they’ll betray you, right?
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abbyromanoff · 19 hours
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can i request little reader and mommy wanda, and they go to a park and little misbehaves and acts like a brat and gets a punishment for being a brat (this is the longest red light ever)
…HATE ME?
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PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1065
WARNINGS: angst, little reader, mommy!Wanda, silent treatments, Wanda feels down because of R, R also feels down bc of Wanda, not spell checked tbh, think that’s abt it :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Your lip jittered as you whimpered, your pleads going silenced to the older woman. She sat on the couch with a book in her hands, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she flipped each page without digesting it entirely, but you didn’t need to know that.
“Mommy, ‘m sorry!” You felt tears pooling at your eyes and huddled your stuffie closer to your chest before rushing upstairs to your room. You closed the door behind you and removed every blanket and pillow from her side of the bed before placing your stuffed animals in the now unoccupied area. It was a rule of hers to not have toys on the bed, and if you did, it was only one or two that you slept with alongside her. Other than that, they were saved for play time only.
You huffed angrily and closed your eyes, intending on falling asleep until that came to a short fail. You couldn’t stop recalling the previous activities that led to this moment that had guilt gnawing at your heart.
“Baby, not today, okay? It’s too chilly for ice cream right now, and you’re already freezing!” She exclaimed her words with a rub to your arms that filled with goosebumps from the chilled wind. You glared at her after your pleading eyes did not work the way you wished, and she exaggerated a pout in return.
“That’s not fair! I wan’ ice cream!” Your hands balled into fists and your nostrils flared, your angered expression making Wanda audibly aww.
“My little cutie! Why don’t we just head home, lay down, watch a movie.” She dragged out, hoping it would bring back your excitement and tempt you into giving up.
“No, I don’ wanna go home until I have ice cream!” She sighed, annoyed that her suggestion did not work and you were still upset.
“Look, I said no ice cream, alright? Just be a good girl and listen to mommy, yeah?” She knew you always fell for the title, but there was something so strong about this truck that was now leaving that had it blanking your mind.
“No fair! I hate you, mommy!” You saw her facial expressions shift as her eyes widened with slight red behind them. You felt the hand that had been holding your wrist tighten, and her head titled to the side menacingly.
“You want to repeat that word for me?” You had come to realize your mistake and cowered down, gulping as you struggled to form a coherent sentence or thought.
“I…I didn’ mean it-“
“You didn’t mean it? So you didn’t mean to say you oh so proudly just how much you hate me? You said it, didn’t you? Fucking shit,” She mumbled the curses under her breath. “And here I thought I had trained my little girl well.”
“No, you did, mommy! I swear, you did! I didn’t mean to say it, I really, really didn’t.” She shook her head disapprovingly, guiding you to the car quickly as you struggled to follow behind her.
“Hurts, mommy.” You mumbled in hopes she’d listen, but that came to a quick end when you were pushed into the backseat.
“I’m sorry, mommy, I really didn’t mean it.” She ignored you the rest of the ride, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel and slightly filling the tense silence. You knew you were done for when you got home.
You heard the door close behind the woman as you refused to turn and look at her, knowing deep down it was all you wished for. You squeezed your eyes even tighter and pretended to be asleep, although Wanda knew you weren’t. She walked to the closet and sorted through a selection of clothes aimlessly.
“Mommy?” You eventually gave in, and Wanda did not turn to look in your direction.
“Please stop ignoring me! It’s hurtin’ my feelings,” You chewed your lip and rubbed your legs together for the warmth she did not supply.
“Oh, it hurts your feelings?” She asked, and that was the first time she had spoken in what felt like years. You sat up now, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.
“Mhm.”
“Because it really hurt mommy’s feelings when you said you hated her, but that doesn’t matter?” You looked down in shame and she hummed, now stepping out of the small room and walking closer to your proximity.
“Now, I know you were upset that you weren’t getting what you wanted, but that gives you absolutely no right to be mean and say such horrible things to mommy.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” You spoke lowly, your voice full of shame. She crossed her arms over her chest and placed a knee on the bed that was filled with your toys, but she didn’t seem to notice or care at the moment.
“I know you are, but that doesn’t change what you did.” You shook your head in agreement with her words.
“I- I was upset and I really wanted ice cream but I was really, really mean to mommy and I didn’t mean to, and ‘m really, really, really sorry.” She didn’t respond and you worried she didn’t forgive you. You were about to plead her once more before she stood and began walking to your side of the bed where you sat so anguished. She then placed herself in front of you and put her hands on your knees before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead.
“I know you are, baby.”
“You forgive me?”
“Not exactly, but I’m not mad at you anymore.” A smile began to grow on your face and she pinched your cheeks at the sight.
“Does that mean you won’ ignore me now?”
“I won’t ignore you anymore, my love.”
“And does that mean we can have ice crea-“
“Woah, woah, woah, I think we’re getting a bit too far now.” You giggled and she followed before scooting your stuffies to the side and making space for her own body to fit. She pulled you in closer and placed a kiss on your lips this time, sighing into it as she wrapped her arm around your body. She knew you could never hate her, and she knew she could never hate moments like this even if it meant she had to live out what led to it.
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bangchansgirlsblog · 3 days
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Heyyy, give me something angsty with Felix please🥰 like maybe she comes home really tired and he’s just mad about everything small and calls her clingy🙀 and they go to bed angry (really bad idea btw never do that‼️) and then in the morning she tries to avoid him bc she doesn’t want to seem clingy? Happy ending tho, I can’t take too much heartbreak🩵
By my side.
Warnings: Yelling and crying.
Paring: Felix x Reader.
This is my first Felix story and I messed it up lol. Anyways. Enjoy 🩷
**
Y/n slowly removed her shoes at the door trying not to make a sound. Her body was aching and she was extremely exhausted. She moved like a sloth as she put away everything; her coat, her bag, etc.
When she heard the sound of banging dishes she knew her boyfriend, Felix, was home from his schedules.
Never in her life did she ever think she would be so irritated by his presence. She thought she would come home to a quiet house, she really wanted to be alone since work was so tiring.
"Oh! Hey my love," Felix face lit up when he saw his girlfriend walk through the living room. He quickly hurried around the counter to give her a kiss in which she returned.
"Heyy," she said trying to be as energetic as him but completely failed. Her chest was tight and all she wanted to do was cry.
"What's the matter?" He frowned when he noticed her little pout, "how was work?"
His hands automatically land on her waist trying to sooth the not's on her back. He cringed at how stiff she was and automatically knew she wasn't in a good mood.
"Can I have some alone time babe," she shrugged his hands off and started to make her way to their room.
"Did something happen?" Felix frowned as he quickly followed behind. She let out a frustrated sigh seeing he was still going on. He heard the sigh and was a little hurt by it but decided to push it to the side and make sure she was okay. That was what mattered right now.
"Nothing, I just want to be alone Lix-"
"I made us brownies! We can eat it with ice cream and chocolate-"
"Felix! For the love of God I said it's enough! Leave me alone. You're being clingy." She screamed and slammed the bathroom door in his face. He quickly took a step back in disbelief. He was hurt and it was so obvious.
His heart ached. He didn't know what to do but stand there hearing her soft sobs. Should he say something? Should he wait outside? Should he leave?
He was overthinking it. His hands were shaking and tears filled his eyes. She never yelled at him. Never did she even try to tell him off. This was all new to him. Was she getting tired of him? He thought.
Meanwhile on the other side, Y/n's tears were streaming down her face. She felt disgusted and guilty. Felix didn't deserve any of that. She knew it, he was just trying to help.
How could she let a miserable day at work affect her home life? Her relationship? Her thoughts became foggy as she sat there. All she could do was cry and so she cried until she finally fell asleep on the cold, hard tiles.
**
The frantic knocks on the door were what woke her up. Her head was banging and she was freezing. She looked over at her phone and saw it had been an hour and a few minutes. All she could hear was Felix's voice in distress calling out for her.
He sounded weak, worried and tired. What had she done? She quickly got off the floor and opened the door to see what was going on.
When the door opened Felix pulled her into his arms. He was so scared that she might have passed out or did something to herself since she had been locked in for an hour.
"Are you okay my love? Don't ever do that again to me! I was so scared something might have happened," he told her off but still managed to keep her in his arms.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you," she whispered, "I know you were just looking out for me and you were worried. I love you babe," she tightened her grip around his waist as she hid her tears.
"Hey, look at me," he slowly put his finger under her chin. "We all have bad days, I know you didn't mean any of it. Okay?" She nodded, "stop crying my love, you need to talk to me and don't shut me out. Please?"
"I don't know what I would do without you," she whimpered.
"Well first off, you wouldn't be able to reach the top shelves..." he trailed off and smiled at her little laugh. He loved her laugh. Her laugh made him feel warm and happy. All he wanted was for her to be happy.
"You're so silly-"
"Yeah but you love it," he pecked her lips and helped wipe her tears, "should we go cuddle and eat the brownies now?"
"Yes please, I was actually craving them when I was in there,"
"My poor baby, go lay down and I'll be back in a bit," he let go of her and made his way to the kitchen where he got busy.
Y/n sat in their cozy bed trying to figure out how she would explain to Felix what was going on and she knew he was not going to let it go unless she told him and so she did.
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k33ry · 16 hours
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💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫
Older!Dilf!Steve Harrington x afab reader • Explicit content, minors do NOT interact!! • fic includes daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex • Steve’s in his forties, reader is ten-twenty years younger than him <3
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💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫
Steve’s lips were pressed to your cheek, his voice slightly taunting when he spoke… “It’s barely even in, angel, and you’re already shaking…?” Although he was right, you didn’t miss the subtle strain in his voice. For all of Steve’s bravado and talk of restraint, he was obviously struggling to control himself, too. He’d barely fit the first three inches of his cock inside you, but it already felt like you were stuffed full…
Steve curved his hips upward, forcing himself another two inches deeper inside you. The length of his cock was impressive, but it was his girth that had your eyes watering. You clenched your jaw and let Steve have you, trusting that he knew what was best for you. “Fuck, honey,” Steve marveled, his voice breathy. “Feel how she pushes back on me…?” His eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, one corner of his mouth turning up in a satisfied grin.
“Think I’m gonna have to break her in a little,” Steve murmured, his voice saccharine, thickened by lust. “Teach her a lesson or two…” He rocked his hips back and forth slowly, stroking your moist, spongy center with a firm but delicate pressure. “…Teach her that it’s rude to push back on her Daddy…To tell him no…”
You moaned softly as Steve sank his cock deeper still, at least six inches filling you at this point. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, panting against your hair. “You’re doin’ such a good job, princess,” Steve gently reminded you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His cock pulsed inside you, twitching against your plump, dewy walls.
Steve’s left hand palmed reassuringly up and down your back, his right hand cradling your neck. Your legs were wrapped around Steve’s waist as you sat in his lap, his belt and pants undone. Steve had pulled the crotch of your panties aside, pausing to rub the slippery fabric between his thumb and index finger, smiling to himself at your evident arousal. He’d pressed his pink, leaking tip inside the crotch of your panties, and let you rock back and forth over his erection awhile, slicking his cock in your cum, preparing it for yourself.
When Steve was satisfied that you were ready to take him, he’d held his cock by the base and maneuvered his tip so it was resting against your entrance, gently spreading your outer lips apart. With a reassuring kiss against your forehead, Steve had lowered you carefully onto his cock, trying his best not to hurt you. But fuck, you were so goddamn tight, so responsive to his touch, that Steve was struggling not to let his urges overtake him and bury himself to the balls inside you all at once.
He could feel your walls beginning to flutter and constrict around him; Steve knew you were getting close. “No no no,” he murmured at your cheek; you whimpered against his shoulder. “You’re not pushin’ me out, sweet girl, not yet.” Steve tightened his arms around you, securing you in place as your legs began to quiver at his sides. “Good girl,” he purred as your orgasm began to bloom. “That’s a good girl-go on, come as hard as you need to, baby; Daddy’s got you; you’re not goin’ anywhere…”
Even though Steve was right, you certainly felt like you were going to buck off his lap at any moment, your body wracked in a climax so intense, you may well have ended up injuring yourself if Steve hadn’t been holding you down. He remained still while you bounced up and down on his cock like a little bunny, your eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in your forehead contorted in a vivid expression of pleasure.
Every ounce of strength left your body during the orgasm, depleting you entirely and forcing you to hang limp as a rag doll against Steve’s chest for support. He smiled warmly down at you, tilting your chin up to face him. “Now it’s Daddy’s turn to come,” Steve said, his hands gliding down your sides. He secured your body by your hips as he fucked up into you. Every upward thrust of Steve’s cock buried him deeper and deeper inside you, your sopping cunt even slicker after coming, making it easier for Steve to take you.
His forehead fell to your shoulder, breath hot and moist as Steve panted against your tits. He bullied your grateful, exhausted cunt like his life depended on it, punching upward with so much force that his cock disappeared to his bush inside you. Steve locked his arms around your shoulders, gripping you snug against his chest as his body tensed all over. His grunts of exertion dissolved into a broken string of expletives as he emptied his release inside you. Warm, thick loads of semen coated your walls as Steve’s cock pulsed and pumped his ejaculate into you. A light sheen of sweat appeared all over his skin, highlighting Steve’s handsome features in the warm afterglow of his orgasm.
He licked his lips before taking your tongue as his possession, sucking and savoring it. Although Steve was rarely lost for words, he found it difficult in moments like this to describe all the emotions flooding through his heart, body, and mind. So rather than use his tongue to speak, Steve found another use for it. He lifted you off his lap, and gently placed you on your back. Settling himself between your thighs, Steve used his tongue to clean up the mess he’d made inside you, catching every last drop of his seed as it leaked warm and white from your precious, pouty cunt… 💖
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