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#at least sis will watch over him
pink-icedcoffee · 1 year
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I miss the farm so much.
Living there used to be exhausting. Mainly, it was who I was living with. I felt trapped, especially since we moved there because of covid. The suffocating feeling was so real. That's why being in uni was really a breath of fresh air (lol, I find that funny because this is a city, and the farm is, well, a farm?).
The first few months really felt freeing. I was letting go of that pathetic version of myself behind. But now I'm a different kind of pathetic, which is way better than before. I just wished that money grew on trees, and I could fly back every time I felt like breaking down completely.
Lol, I'm venting so much bcos I called the fam for like almost 2 hours, and it was just purely me being silly and laughed at (I bought a bambi book and started reading it to my mom like she's 5) bcos me was looking like a grandma.
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manicrouge · 2 months
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‘It’s cannae be that difficult,’ Soap scoffed, watching as the masked man fiddled with the pieces of string in his hand.
‘She mentioned in er letter that she’s been buying handmade bracelets from this market back in Manchester,’ Simon said, ‘thought I’d give it a shot myself.’
‘Aye, Lt. but your hands ave only ever brutalised thing… ye no bracelet maker. More of a necklace maker — ye know, like a noose—’
‘Shut it,’ he snarled, looking down at the loosely woven bracelet in his hand, ‘she wanted me to make somethin’ for er, so I am.’
‘Could’ve just asked me to draw er somethin’,’ Soap chuckled, pushing himself up off of the doorframe. ‘Or are ye scared am gonna steal ye missus?’
‘Go away,’ huffed the other, focusing back on his bracelet, ‘I swear to fuck all you ever do is give me a fuckin’ headache, go an’ bother Price.’
Soap disappeared down the hall, leaving Simon to figure out the complicated and strenuous task of making a bracelet, ‘Fucks sake,’ he sighed, finally tying the ends together, holding it in the palm of his hand in front of him.
Part of him was convinced it would have been an insult to send that to you; there was hardly any talent to be found in his creation (at least, that’s what he thought) as the plaited yarn was hardly neat. Only, he bit the bullet and added it into the envelope with the letter he had messily scribbled.
And, for the first time ever, he felt anxious… over a stupid fucking bracelet.
It took a while for him to hear back, counting on the fact that after making the bracelet he’d been called by Price on another mission. In fact, he’d forgotten about the entire conundrum until he sat on his bed in his room with your envelope in his hand. When he opened it, a black and white beaded bracelet fell onto his lap, as did a loose polaroid you had taken.
A smile met his face when he saw you wearing the pesky bracelet with the brightest smile on your face. Setting the photo down, he opened your letter.
I love the bracelet so much Si! I thought I’d make you one myself too so we could have matching ones. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to though, I just thought it would be a nice gift for you.
Taking the bracelet in his hand, he closed his fist around it as he continued to read through your letter.
‘Nice piece of jewellery you got there, Lt.,’ Soap sniggered, bringing his mug of tea to his lips before adding, ‘how much did it set ye back, ey?’
‘Shut up, Johnny.’
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pseudowho · 7 months
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Stoic
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When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.
Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant
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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.
"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.
A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"
"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"
"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"
"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"
Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.
Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.
"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."
Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.
"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"
"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"
"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"
"--why are we doing this--"
"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"
Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"
"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"
Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"
"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"
Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.
"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"
The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.
"...what did I miss?"
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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 6 months
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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .
cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)
“Simon, I’m home!”
You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.
“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”
You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.
“Stop.”
He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.
Oh no, you’re so fucked up.
“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”
Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.
“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”
Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.
“Where do you get this?”
“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.
You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.
“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.
“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.
“You think there’s other options?”
“... No.”
“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.
“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”
Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.
His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.
He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.
“Told you to close your eyes, love.”
You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.
“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”
“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.
When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.
You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.
He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.
“It’ll hurt a bit.”
He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.
“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”
He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.
Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.
“Thank you, Si.”
You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.
“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.
“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.
He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.
“Anything you want now, princess?”
“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”
“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”
Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”
“Are there other options?”
“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.
Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.
“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.
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acid-ixx · 3 months
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ch.1: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three
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read until the end for an author's note.
if there was one thing you hated more than the crime-filled streets of gotham, it would be empty promises.
when was the last time they attended your birthday? or your school ceremonies? or any special event that meant for you to be the center of attention?
plot twist, there was no last time, or a time before that or any day that they were there for you.
not your eldest brother, dick, not your dead brother, jason, of course tim wouldn't be there for you, damian's absence is a given, not even your sisters would come, and most especially not your father, bruce wayne.
you never wrote wayne as your last name. in every test, it would always be your mother's last name. in every document that you had to fill, you would violently scratch in the name of your father, wishing it wasn't required at all so you wouldn't have to hang your head in shame everytime someone looks at you incredulously for having the bruce wayne as your father but never once appearing to be with you.
you can't recall a time you had called him your dad, or even considered him as one.
if you could count the times you have seen him in person, it wouldn't even fill ten fingers. even interviewers and paparazzi have more luck in coming across him than you would, his child.
it sucks, really, how despite having nearly sharing the same age as tim, you never once saw him outside of his room. you thought you would've been the closest to him, but the most you have seen him was when you were watching the news with the "new" robin popping up, or worse; when bruce would be seen guiding tim through the paparazzi and not you. alfred had to drag you away from the tv that day because you were already suffering through a panic attack just seeing those two act so close; ripping your hair out just from watching the news wasn't a good way to cope.
you remember being so jealous of him, of how bruce would always spend time with him and not you. it made you wonder, were you special enough? tim is so brilliant, you could admit. and you were, too, having enough comprehensibility as a child to find out they were vigilantes a year or two after living in the manor— but you weren't good enough like tim. you weren't cut out to be like a detective or a fighter.
it was no wonder why bruce chose them over you.
it came to you in the form of talking to tim that had you discovering that no one ever mentions your name inside the house, proving it to be true when tim had hesitated calling your name and even stuttered through pronouncing it. and then he left after finding you were of no use to help him. alfred had to stifle your sobbing after tim left the room, allowing you to cry on his chest whilst you sat beside him.
(name) wayne was so, so lonely.
you would've accepted their absence long ago, but you were a stupid child who needed care and reassurance because your mother left you for good at the age of five. you were too naive into thinking you would receive the same love from your family just like the other kids in elementary would. you were a child who expected too highly of your father, thinking that he would pick you up from school with that picture perfect photographed smile of his and kiss your forehead and tell you that you did a great job at school today.
it was your teachers who would be the one having to walk you up the stage whenever you achieved an award. alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least.
it was long ago that you stopped praying for your family to attend at least one of your birthdays.
it's ironic, really, for a child to prep and plan for their own celebration just to hope that a single member of their family to even walk by the kitchen and join them in on their already lonesome celebration.
too bad everybody only goes to the kitchen when alfred cooks for them. who would want to taste sadness in a sloppily made birthday cake, right? nobody, not even you would have the appetite to eat your cake with the knowledge that it was you who had to put all the effort to bake it because you didn't want alfred to feel obligated to. knowing nobody would celebrate birthdays with you, save for alfred, it was expected that you started to prefer cupcakes.
because then you wouldn't be scolded for making such a mess.
you never cooked family meals after the incident where nobody came and to not waste food, you had to bring in large containers to bring to school so you could celebrate your birthday there.
it was there that you find more solace in your small group of friends compared to the desolate rooms of the mansion. your family celebrates holidays together as a whole, but you never once attended after that one time where everybody had forgotten to get you a gift for christmas, save for alfred who gave you a bracelet (one that you cherished deeply). you only smiled weakly and hopelessly, sneaking into your room before the family dinner.
it was alfred again who bought you leftovers and sat on your bed for an hour to encourage you that there's still more christmas's to go.
you never believed what he said. not anymore.
there was a period of time where you hated them more than anything, blamed them for everything and became more rebellious, purposely failing tests, fighting your classmates and disrespecting teachers in hopes that for once your father would bat an eye on you. that only resulted in you being taken out of the school and being transferred into another, for a behavioral reform is what alfred stated to you when you annoyed him for answers.
damian started to bully you a bit more harder after that incident, calling you immature and childish, a weakling, an attention seeker. how someone at your age should've known better. you were convinced that he was relishing in the heartbroken glare you gave him, ignoring the way his eyes widened momentarily at your reaction before sneering and walking away.
alfred gently scolded you, but you were too choked up and instead you almost tripped running inside your bedroom, locking yourself in for what seems like hours.
you don't want to remember the immense breakdown you had that evening too, screaming on your blankets and destroying your things and hurting yourself because... because you had lost your old friends for nothing! your caring teachers, your academic progress, everything! every single thing for an ounce of attention! because he didn't have enough energy to come with you to the guidance counselor and he only had you transfer out so you wouldn't ruin the wayne's reputation!
you hate him, you hate bruce fucking wayne so much and you hate clinging onto their empty promises and sorry's to make it up for you. you hate how their promises were never even said directly to you, you hate how alfred was your only source of hope for a medium of communication.
you hate them all.
and worst of all, you hate yourself for drowning in hope. for wishing you were physically stronger so you could at least bond with them through training. for dreaming about a day where they could surprise you and told you they were just testing you and that you actually had worth inside this manor. for praying nightly that they'll smile at you like the heroes you see in tv rather than that of pity.
you wished there was a universe where gotham was safer, more protected with no criminals littering the streets. maybe then they would have more time to notice you crying every night, writing self destructive entries in your diary, sketching what would've been a happy family. they wouldn't have to wear their silly costumes to fight crime and instead would save you from your own demons.
if...
if you were brutally tortured and killed by the joker, or forced to choke on the fear toxin by the scarecrow— hell, even beaten to near death by some random goons; would they have given you a sliver of their love? would they finally look at you and save you from yourself?
because despite your resentment, you would never lie and say you didn't feel blessed that you were thrown to a family of talented individuals.
your drawings of a complete and happy family holding hands together and a diary filled with rants and fantasies of spending time with them proved just that.
you were blessed with them yet cursed at the same time to never reach the same level to be even considered part of their lives.
you were hopeless. you never amounted to anything. you were just, you.
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thirteen years have passed by then, and in those years you were proud to say your development as a person, albeit slow, transformed you from a child that succumbed to neglect to an independent person who managed to maintain a comfortable circle of friends, a scholarship for a college far away from gotham, and an apartment of your own (you were a bit in debt due to having to pay for your own because no way in hell would you ask for your father for financial support).
allowance was scarce, your food supplies weren't infinite compared to back when you were living at the wayne manor, and you weren't greeted to michelin star restaurant meals cooked by alfred— but you were content, and that was enough.
though content translated to nightly breakdowns whilst finishing projects or writing essays, the point still stands! at least you had celebrated your eighteenth birthday with drunk smiles and your friends spoiling you to death when you had opened up about your first lonely years of life. everything was going well for you, truly.
you were so, so happy for the nice turn of events. and you wouldn't have made it so far if you hadn't slapped yourself out of the delusion that they actually cared for you.
look at you now! independent and with a life of your own! you'd give yourself a pat in the back.
you hadn't blocked them at all, but their contacts were empty (save for a few desperate messages that date back years ago) and you were fine with that. it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!
alfred communicates with you time to time, reminding you to eat a complete meal rather than those one dollar priced noodles that tasted like pure salt. he told you he misses you a lot, you and your annoying, daily rants about life and school. he misses your awkward smile and when you would help him cook whenever the others aren't around. he misses it when you imitate his posh accent when you taste test his food and give commentary about it.
you miss him, too. growing up, you realized just how much effort alfred would exert just to spend a lot of his time on you.
now, he told you that you are still welcome to the manor whenever, and how he cleans your room weekly in case you'll visit him.
whenever you audio call with him, you'd tear up just a bit at the realization that alfred was more of a father figure than your own biological father. because he at least attended your graduation to make up for the other times he was unable to join you.
what's even better was that he gifted you something you had always wanted for your birthday. despite it being delivered to your door rather than him giving it to you face to face (since you had refused to give him your location and him respecting that decision at least), the heartfelt letter he left you was more than enough to let you cling onto pieces of your past. after all, it was him who greeted you by the door when you were first introduced into the family, bruce being too busy with paperwork that day when you were a measly five year old.
you had started to teasingly call him 'alfie' and a few more nickname after that, which results with a chuckle over the phone every time you had come up with a cheesy name for him whenever you get a wee bit irritated at his own way of making fun of you.
if only this was your life years ago, then maybe you wouldn't have been jealous of all your other friends and pushed them away that day, maybe you would learn that sometimes, family comes in the form of the people outside of your house rather than inside.
that reminds you, maybe you should reconnect with your old friends back in elementary and apologized for your sudden explosive behavior.
you were laying on your bed, phone in hand and opened your inst*gram app to stalk through the names you could remember. well... that was what you should've done, if not for the fact that a notification popped up the very moment you pressed on the search bar and you had accidentally opened a chat with your oldest brother, dick.
you would've ignored the desperate messages you have sent him from the past which all varied from inviting him to eat dinner with you or to at least join you to play in an arcade or anything to convince him to talk to you, all of which were unseen, if not for the fact that it was him who sent you a sudden "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" message, alongside a few more replies that spammed through your phone...
oh!
... that was enough to make you sit up and want to hurl.
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dick grayson was a man of many talents. the mature eldest child, the ideal good leader despite his anger issues from time to time, and the same guy who set the standards high for the future robins. he is bruce's greatest achievement.
it was safe to say that if not for the support of many, then he would've suffered so many falls and would've never been strong enough to stand up despite the pain and continue his fights. nightwing was what many superheroes strive to be, an image of light in a grove of darkness such as gotham.
so why was it that he felt like he has failed so deeply right now?
inside your room, dick stands with furrowed brows. it felt too clean to look used. your furniture was polished and look untouched, the lights were too bright and the windows were bolted shut. there were no signs of life other than the notebooks and sketchbooks that were neatly tucked on the middle of the bed and the trinkets that scatter through your desk.
dick stalks through the room, careful to not make a noise as he walks over to the closet, opening it and finding nothing.
he bites his lips at the implication that this was probably the second time he visited your room and how it was also the longest time he remained here. compared to his other siblings, you were the one he noticed the least and... now he feels bad for dismissing you.
didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago?
damn it, he was way too focused on his mission that night and ended up ditching and forgetting you! oh god, dick facepalmed and clenched his teeth, seething in some air because no fucking way did he actually remember to feed damian's dog, titus, the same day but forgot to take you out for an important event...
it occurred to him that that was the same day you scored a perfect on "the hardest test of my life!" you had bragged to him awkwardly when he wasn't listening nor looking and you, wanting to celebrate what was a small achievement for dick, chose him to spend time with you!
dick had to carefully breath through his mouth then gulp down the shame he feels right now. he- he has no time to focus on the past but rather the present. he has to find out why the hell is your room so lifeless, yeah... then he'll make it up to you today, definitely.
huh?
is it just him, but why does the room seem so small? it looked like it was meant to be for a kid. clearly, there wasn't enough space for a growing individual like you... did bruce not provide you with a bigger bedroom? ah, dick would definitely tell bruce to relocate you to a bigger room, the current one is too small for even a dog in a manor to sleep in.
dick doesn't want to admit it at all, but... he hasn't seen you for the past few months, or not all, really. sure, he had only recently visited the manor since he's bludhaven's vigilante now, but even through his time in gotham he had never seen you other than the times you pulled his sleeves from back when you were a child.
back when you were a child.
how old are you now? you were so small back then, innocent too. he can recall your curious eyes, your chubby cheeks and the way you stutter through your words as you try to talk to him.
you were significantly younger than jason, and was adopted a week before tim was introduced to the family. he remembers you peeking through alfred's back, gleaming with curiousity and whispering to the butler if it was really the dick grayson. he smiled fondly at your dumbfounded expression, the way your mouth shaped into an "ohh," when he was the one who answered that, yes, it was him. then you whispered again if you can take have an autograph from him, to which he chuckled and told alfred that he'll help accompany you to your room.
when your five year old body tried to waddle closer to his body for an ounce of warmth when he had been guiding you up the stairs, that was also the first time he called you baby bird, with the way you coddled him so closely. his hands find itself patting your head, ruffling your hair and grinning as you both make your path through the halls.
he comes to immediately regret leaving you alone after he had introduced you to your room, remembering his duties as a vigilante than that of a brother.
but despite his early memories of you, he wants to see his baby sibling all grown up now.
had it really been years?
when was the last time you ever had a full-on conversation with him?
was there even a time that he had approached you by himself?
he had always called you baby bird after the first time you meet because of the age gap you two shared. the rare times he acknowledges you, you gave him that look filled with such adoration, like you were proud of him for being your older brother. why did he not notice you?
oh, his baby bird...
dick gulped, trying to ease his shivering by sitting on your neatly folded blankets and taking a worn diary in his hand, one at the bottom stack of books. well, if it was a personal diary then maybe you would've hidden it better, right? he figures since it was all placed on the center of the bed like a piece of treasure that... it would be alright to take just a glimpse.
to confirm if you still see him as your favorite brother.
dick's heartbeat spiked, hoping your entries would be filled with, he doesn't know, anything that didn't implicate some sort of hatred for the family, for him. hoping that despite his lack of attention towards you, that there would still be a spark of love for him. if what he thinks was actually true then... he doesn't know what to do with himself.
he flips through the first page, noting how it was bulkier than the others. the paper was filled with glittery decorations, sequence beads and cheap stickers sparkling at every angle the light hits. it was meant to be a design for the 'front cover' of the notebook, colors blended in a cacophony of rainbows and butterflies and flowers beyond the messy calligraphy that merely states "(name)'s diary!"
dick stifles a grin just from skimming through at the amount of mistakes and erasures, clearly written by the the younger version of you; naive to the world and its cruelty. he commends your creativity, his eyes softening at the few doodles that were written on the corners of the pages.
you're just too adorable for your own good, so much so that the thumping in dick's heart beats louder and louder, ears wringing uncomfortable inside your unventilated bedroom. but he just couldn't rip his eyes away from the diary, daydreaming about how proud you must've been when designing your own diary. he could picture your wide eyes, shy and harmless, and your feet kicking back and forth whilst you decorate your stuff.
everything was what he expected it to be on the first few pages of the diary. all your little rants about your daily life, your eargerness to meet your entire family from your father's side, and the hurt you experienced from your mother's sudden abandonment.
he would've skipped through another diary, one that lacked design and color, save for the name plastered on the front, if not for the grim undertones at every end of your entries despite the child-like manner it was written in.
it all started with "i wish to see my father soon and my big brother dick again!", "alfred told me my father can't come to the parent-teacher conference, he says he's in a veryyy important meeting :( but alfred would come!", "dick told me he can't help me with my science project but he promise he'll help me with something else later!" which halfway through the diary, your style fluctuates and lesser effort was exhausted on the writing.
one entry in particular, written on the last page of your diary, shattered a sliver of hope within dick, his breathing momentarily ceased from reading through your sentences; uncharacteristic of you, too mature for someone at the age of ten to write.
"XX/XX/XXXX.
dear diary, it's my tenth birthday today. i celebrated with my friends at school. they told me i always look down whenever it's my birthday. they think that bruce would throw a fancy celebration for me. i tried to hide my laughter from them. it's a really funny joke. i haven't seen him for months. i told dick that he was invited but i don't think he remembers it's my birthday today. alfred told me to come out of my room, he said he cooked my favorite dinner, that he's sorry he got my present late, but i don't want get out of my room. i heard dick is gonna watch a movie with tim later. i don't feel so good, my chest hurts, but i don't want to get out right now.
i'll eat the cupcake tomorrow."
it had been nearly two hours since dick had sat on your bed, eyes dilating whilst reading through your first diary. the cold season had already pricked his skin, but his entire body felt so unnaturally warm, a warmth that scorches him, searing deep into flesh. a lump had form in his throat, accompanying the hellish throbbing of his heart.
"fuck..." he brought his fingers to his head, carefully massaging his forehead but it relieves nothing. he wants to see you right now— he needs to talk to you. god, he has to apologize, he needs to see what you look like right now, needs to know if you're alright.
you're clearly not.
he has to oppress the urge to punch the walls, reminding himself that it's your room he's in and if he damages your already delicate property, then he's proving himself worse than he already is.
he rushes to grab another diary, the one at the top of the pile, skipping to the end of the page.
nothing. all the entries were months ago, all written in vague detail like you were starting to hide secrets. his teeth grinds against each other, frustration seeping through his veins.
he needs to— shit, he needs to find you right now. he needs to find his baby bird and make up for the all bullshit him and his family had done. if you were gone for months, even years; he doesn't even want to think about it.
but how?!
there were no signs of you. anything written your diary, your drawings, the trinkets on your bedside table— they signal no clues whatsoever, all dating back to months, even years. it's not possible at all, for nobody to notice your disappearance. dick would've noticed sooner. he should've noticed sooner. oh, he doesn't even want to think about the dangers that await you outside the mansion. with how naive you were about the outside world, you wouldn't last at all.
his baby bird wouldn't survive gotham's streets, especially not when winter was nearing.
think, grayson, think...
his phone!
he immediately reaches into his pockets to grab his phone, clammy fingers swifly encoding his password and opening his contacts.
your number was the quickest to find, it was the only one without an icon of you and an endearing nickname. he makes a mental note to change that soon and replaced your default name to your nickname.
then, without hesitation, he typed, "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" sending the message without rereading, foot tapping impatiently against the floor as he scrolls through all your previous messages.
messages that he should've replied to with the same level of enthusiasm as you. skimming through the past, unseen texts as your motivation began to dwindle the further he refused to reply back. he promises he'll never make you feel invisible again.
seconds feel like hours for him, as he blows raspberries to pass the time, too concentrated an ounce of a reply to even notice the entirely new presence inside the room.
it's alright to call you, yes? after all, dick just wanted to check in with his baby bird and see if you're doing swell and dandy and... safe without him...!
his thumbs pressed on the call button before he could think through his actions, his other hand runs through his hair, sweat running down his forehead as if he had ran a marathon.
he waited, and waited, and waited until the call beeped and provided its automated response. he calls you again but the line immediately cuts off, he tries to spam you with more messages but they weren't delivered.
you blocked him.
fuck, he messed up big time. he needs to get to the batcave. he needs to find your fucking location before it's too late. dick needs to see you again before he loses it.
but before he could carefully place your sketchbooks back to its rightful place, he sees a silhouette at the corner of his eyes; short figure, arms crossed, and a sneer on his eyes already tells him who it was.
damian wayne.
he forgot to train with damian today.
but it doesn't matter, damian has to see it for himself— what made dick so disheveled, so delirious. damian has to finally see just how much of a wonderful sibling you are.
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: this was 4,600+ words and it drained the energy out of me. it was supposed to be posted tomorrow but i was too motivated !! i'm also quite proud of this chapter. it was a pain characterizing dick grayson and the reader. i really hope this is as good as the prequel because it's 3am right now and writing dick's part was a pain in the ass ^^' as always, please do comment or send asks if you like it for quicker updates!!!
taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @alishii, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @deadinside-09, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa (shoutout to her specifically because i got motivated from their comment!)
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elexaria · 8 months
Text
dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”
therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.
“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.
god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?
and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.
“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.
it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.
there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.
that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.
“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.
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frogchiro · 1 year
Text
Z-zombie!Ghost who is stalking and resource guarding you as you travel and traverse through the bleak and empty ruins of the once lively towns in hopes of finding either resources or a human settlement that will be kind enough to let you join them, but for now you have only yourself....or at least that's what you think.
Ghost will follow you all the time but not show himself just yet, instead he will grunt and growl in delight to himself as he watches you camp for the night or, even better, take a bath in a clean lake or stream.
Not to mention that he's incredibly aggressive when it comes to you, his beastly instincts expand more and more as the infection took a hold of his brain and in result made him violent and hostile towards everything that could be a potential threat to you :(( So the times when you traverse through another town and you hear a blood-curdling screech that makes your skin crawl you may think that it's some zombies that fight over food or whatever zombies might fight over, but in reality it's Si tearing one apart for getting way too close to you♡
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astonmartinii · 3 months
Text
imgonnagetyouback [guilty as sin part four] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader
PR jail did a lot of damage, but unlike SOMEONE else, charles is ready for the apology tour
MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: the timeline is absolutely all over the place in this and for needs must pretend that the spanish and austrian races are swapped on the calendar!
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,045,389 others
yourusername: i think your house is haunted, why are they always mad?
view all comments
user239: i have had it with little miss poet over here TELL ME IF MY PARENTS ARE DIVORCED OR NOT
user240: i hate that as this generation, them following each other on instagram is a key feature to whether they're still together or not
user241: my grandparents didn't have to go through this 😭
maxverstappen1: spill it sis
user242: WHAT DO YOU KNOW MAX
maxverstappen1: ummm nothing, and if i did i only take cash bribes. this is baby max relating hard to the caption
user242: oh :(
yourusername: oh maxy .... at least we now have good ways to express our emotions!
user243: ma'am he tore lando's wheel off because he can't handle wheel to wheel racing
liked by landonorris
yourusername: it's called hard racing, maybe mclaren should watch some of senna's old races instead of doing their 100th tribute livery xx
landonorris: you know he said you would do this exact thing, you can't handle anyone linked to your brother doing well
yourusername: oh i was perfectly prepared for you to win every race after miami since it was clear that the mclaren is the fastest car on the grid EVEN THOUGH you've publicly sided with them when anyone with a moral backbone (and a hint of PR awareness) would've run for the hills
landonorris: i'd really worry about the fact that the one piece of relevance you had left is no where to be seen, you're not worth defending for him
yourusername: it's insane the way you all have the same pompous attitude about this (i know that's a big word, but maybe you guys could get a couple of quid together to buy a dictionary)
maxverstappen1: also don't try and pretend 1. that you're completely in the right about everything that happened in austria 2. that you weren't scrounging around me (when we were friends i guess) trying to get details on y/n and charles
user244: okay this is wild
user245: i really thought lando would see the light on this
user246: or he realised that he can't race wheel to wheel unless he has the power of carlando friendship so he's burning bridges
oscarpiastri: i miss leo
yourusername: we literally are down the street bozo
oscarpiastri: i am ON MY WAY
user247: she's in monaco ???
user248: has to be, oscar only has a rental place he stays in london for mclaren and y/n has only ever lived in madrid or monaco
user249: there is still hope everyone
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 2,309,677 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: was i out of line? did i say something way too honest?
there are a couple things i need to get off of my chest.
first, a massive apology to my girlfriend. y/n is the love of my life and will be my wife sooner or later and i hate that as a 26-year-old grown man i haven't had the backbone to stand up to ferrari when it comes to her. she's incredibly strong and i hate that she's had to go through this without my public support. i can't take it back now, but if i could i never would've let them take my phone and take control of my social media. they have now been dealt with and no one will stop me declaring my love and support for her.
second, if i hadn't already ran out of patience before, the legal trouble that family have put their own blood through threw me over the edge. they will never, ever deserve that girl and if i have anything to do with it they will never talk to her ever again. i may have been silent online but money talks and we will have vindication soon.
third, a big thank you to max, oscar and ollie for their continued support of y/n. it means so much that the public still saw how loved she is when i couldn't.
four, i am awake and i am angry, these people will learn who they are fucking with. see you soon lecfosi, it'll all be worth it in the end.
view all comments
user254: WAR IS OVER
user255: my heart dropped when i got the post notification but this is the best news possible
user256: am i going to excuse a 26-year-old man for being a pussy? no. but i am going to celebrate him seeing the light and y/n having him back in her corner
yourusername: he was never out of my corner. true there was no public support, but he was there. i would rather have his support behind closed doors where it matters than plastered all over social media
maxverstappen1: you wouldn't believe the lengths these two were going, i became a messenger pigeon when they physically took his phone and the letters were so grossly cute
yourusername: that's literally mail tampering
maxverstappen1: and i'm a human not a pigeon, we can't all get what we want
charles_leclerc: i did i got y/n 😁😁😁
maxverstappen1: ugh welcome back gross instagram comments
user257: so that's what max meant when someone referenced letters that's so cuteeeee
user258: the shout out to max and the extended leclerc family i know that's right
oscarpiastri: anything for my grid mum
olliebearman: actually charles can you get your phone taken away again cause the heist was VERY fun
yourusername: heist???????
charles_leclerc: don't answer that ollie
yourusername: answer it ollie, did you put yourself in harms way ???
charles_leclerc: it was hardly high-stakes
olliebearman: we only stole a phone from silvia's office
yourusername: ollie that's kind of slay but i'm going to need you to delete all of these incriminating comments i don't want you to get in trouble for charles
user259: i know this is just eating up carlos inside seeing how loved she is in his sport
user260: it really does seem that lando is the only one in his corner
sebastianvettel: i am proud of you charles, i know how much ferrari means to you, but never let them take you from those who matter
charles_leclerc: thank you seb, i couldn't have done it without you
yourusername: we love you seb
sebastianvettel: my impromptu not at all prompted trip to maranello definitely wasn't to give you a well-earned slap up the side of the head
user261: no carlos bitching it up in the comments... i've been dreaming of this
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,734,037 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername
maxverstappen1: back to being a third-wheel, balance is restored - the united front of hating is BACK BABY
view all comments
user263: i prayed for times like this
user264: i know they didn't break up but i'm so glad y/n and charles are back together they're too pretty not to be in our faces 24/7
yourusername: just paying you back for you and kelly let me crash on the sofa
maxverstappen1: that really wasn't the burden you thought it was, jimmy and sassy loved their interactive cat bed
yourusername: i miss them (don't tell leo)
charles_leclerc: HOW DARE YOU MUM :((((((((
yourusername: okay baby we're not going to do that ...
charles_leclerc: but :( his feelings are hurt
yourusername: i know lewis is cool and will be your new teammate, but i draw the line at pretending to be leo in the instagram comment section
roscoelovescoco: watch urs backs
yourusername: AHAHAHHAHAHA
maxverstappen1: this man is about to turn 40
lewishamilton: you people ever heard of having some whimsy in your life
yourusername: i got sued by my own family 👍
lewishamilton: um yeah, sorry that happened to you
user265: y/n be ticking up the amount of drivers she's gone toe to toe with in instagram comments
charles_leclerc: you can finally eat my ice cream without trying to hide it
maxverstappen1: i think it's against my partnership contracts to publicly say that i like that ice cream
yourusername: don't worry baby we both ate three tubs and cried watching chick flicks while you were locked away in maranello
charles_leclerc: there's a reason a special edition strawberry flavour made its way to you
yourusername: i love you :(
carlossainz55: you might be "united" but you haven't won yet
charles_leclerc: do you ever shut the fuck up?
carlossainz55: oh someone finally found their voice
charles_leclerc: yeah i did which means you don't get to control the narrative anymore and i can call you a bitch
maxverstappen1: also if there was anyway we would lose, at least we are united, i can count how many friends you have left in this sport on one hand and two of them are your dad and your cousin
charles_leclerc: and watch out, clearly you guys aren't afraid to betray family, who knows it could be you next?
user266: i think charles is still being restrained but can we please at least get one day when he can fully go off his rocker
user267: i think we deserve it after all of it
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,764,094 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: she's not only poet barbie but also lawyer barbie - THAT POETRY IS MINE BITCH, SUCK MY DICK AND RUN ME MY MONEY
view all comments
user268: i don't think i've ever been more happy for a stranger before in my life
user269: she deserves this so much i'm actually like over the moon
charles_leclerc: i'm so happy for you baby, i knew it would all be worth it in the end
yourusername: they can't stop my romantic ramblings now
charles_leclerc: i don't know if i want them to hear them all
yourusername: oh no some are for our ears only ;)
oscarpiastri: unfortunately it's NOT all just for your ears
olliebearman: for a millionaire i thought you'd at least buy a house with thick walls
maxverstappen1: you'll get used to it after a while
yourusername: THERE WAS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION ARE YOU GUYS NOT HAPPY FOR ME ???
oscarpiastri: clearly not THAT happy
charles_leclerc: good. that would be entirely inappropriate
user270: finally some normal fucking couple stuff for y/n and charles
user271: their dynamic is so cute going from poetry to FUCKING
user272: i would be the exact same if i looked like either of them
fernandoalo_oficial: spoken like a real poet, i'm happy for you niña
yourusername: thank you pops !! couldn't have done it without you <3
fernandoalo_oficial: dealing with charles having close to a nervous breakdown every weekend was a lot, but i'm glad you have each other
charles_leclerc: thank you nando :)))) (i didn't have a nervous breakdown)
fernandoalo_oficial: you stress ate seven punnets of grapes
charles_leclerc: FERRARI I SWEAR I DIDN'T
charles_leclerc: wait i'm still annoyed at you ignore that
user273: i think charles is the first case of stockholm syndrome to a sports team
yourusername: @carlossainz55 come on i wanna tussle stop being a pussy
carlossainz55: enjoy your victory lap while you can, it won't last for long
yourusername: suck my actual dick, you put me through this i won't let you run away from it
yourusername: massive tip because i'm feeling generous, maybe actually come to court because there's a lot that you could know ...
carlossainz55: why would i waste my time on you?
yourusername: all will reveal itself
user274: oh it's finally on the other foot .... i'm enjoying this
user275: i think y/n and charles are too
f1tea
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liked by user276, user277 and 21,056 others
tagged: carlossainz55
f1tea: sources close to us say that there is serious worry in the sainz camp after the courts decided they were unlawful in their actions against y/n sainz. the financial standings of the sainz family were already somewhat dyer before they took the youngest sainz' income but it's said to be even worse now they've had to pay damages.
in terms of f1, several of the teams that were interested in sainz were put off by the way he and his family were treating his sister but have fully backed out now the financial struggles of the sainzs has become clear.
this comes after a number of sponsors have ended their partnerships with the spaniard. where do you think he'll end up?
view all comments
user278: at the job centre hopefully
user279: i think this is what the kids call poetic justice
user280: the way charles just picked up a new sponsor... we love to see it!
user281: all the sponsors flocking to charles is so fucking real
user282: life comes at you so fucking fast
user283: in the words of his hero: KARMA!
user284: especially since fernando congratulated y/n on her win in court 😭
user285: bro can't even afford the tractor seat at williams i am HOWLING
user286: or at sauber, boy oh boy this is some great great content for a hater like me
user287: or HAAS and they fucking took nikita mazepin
user288: the next race can't come fast enough i wanna see how this guy spins it in the media
user289: for once in his life i can't see him spinning this is any way that makes him look good
user290: god i hope y/n is in the paddock as well
user291: oh gosh i need her diana revenge dress moment
user292: i don't care if that's your brother i need you to STUNT ON HIM
user293: other than y/n and charles, i know oscar is cheering at this news
user294: bro saw his grid parents get back together and his biggest opp be declared broke and jobless
user295: i really don't understand how y/n slutting round the paddock has been praised so much when her hopping from driver to driver has cost her brother his dream
user296: cope.
user297: also y/n has only ever been with charles DESPITE carlos and her father trying to pimp her out for favours
usr298: now we know this ^^ i don't understand why carlos was so annoyed that she was finally doing what they always wanted
user299: it was because it didn't serve him.
user300: he was probably happy y/n was with charles until he realised it was for you know an ACTUAL relationship rather than psychological teammate warfare
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carlossainz55
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liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 104,889 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
carlossainz55: it was never 'true love' if all you ever wanted was to bag a trophy husband and never work again
view all commments
user302: posting a picture of charles' crash and tagging him is nasty business
user303: would've been iconic if i wasn't him
user304: also that caption just really isn't the read he thought it was
user305: i grew up watching posh spice and cheryl cole in the stands at england games like obvs people want to be with athletes
user306: also this guy pretending he doesn't have a revolving door of models who are just there to be wags
yourusername: yes? and.
yourusername: at least wag isn't my only job. you better hope that rebecca stays booked honey
carlossainz55: don't bring rebecca into this she has nothing to do with any of this
yourusername: awwww did you already cheat? that does track...
yourusername: also you've been slandering my boyfriend all over the internet and ON THIS POST so shut the fuck up i'll bring up who i want to bring up
carlossainz55: get the fighting words out, you might need them when charles questions why you just happened to fall into his lap
yourusername: you've stolen every last penny from me, sued me and tried to turn everyone i care about against me - and guess what? YOU'RE STILL STUPID
carlossainz55: i'm not stupid you're a gold digging slut and you WILL BE FOUND OUT
yourusername: i actually think i could play pinball with the one remaining brain cell in your head
user307: i know this is serious drama but YES SASSY Y/N IS UNLEASHED FROM HER LAWYER'S GRASPS
user308: someone TAP CHARLES IN
user309: please you're out of the ferrari jail NOW IS THE TIME
charles_leclerc: you think i'm going to be offended that the most beautiful girl in the world has always wanted to be with me?
yourusername: what if i told you i'm a mastermind?
charles_leclerc: i would say i'm impressed and FLATTERED
yourusername: and now you're mine :P
charles_leclerc: and i'm glad
charles_leclerc: and i am of the serious belief that even if you didn't seek me out, we would've found each other regardless
yourusername: you made me believe in soulmates
maxverstappen1: @carlossainz55 this post really didn't do what you thought it would lOL
oscarpiastri: bro is falling at every hurdle
carlossainz55: yeah, yeah fuck you two. i'll see you on the track
maxverstappen1: if you can get close enough :P
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,783,088 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1
yourusername: siri play hoes mad
view all comments
user310: this girl is a bestselling poet and this is how she's captioning her instagram posts
user311: babe we're like months into a family war that has had whole ass court cases we don't need eloquent captions
oscarpiastri: where's that one tiktok audio
yourusername: that audio has gone platinum in our house, i think i've saved every edit with it and charles
charles_leclerc: they do slap every time
maxverstappen1: HOES MAD HOES MAD HOES MAD
yourusername: someone is enjoying this
maxverstappen1: i've been praying on these people's downfall since i was 17 i've got a fancy bottle of wine i've been waiting to open
yourusername: we've really been through the wars with these people
charles_leclerc: and ME
maxverstappen1: well here's to them being BROKE AS FUCK LOL
yourusername: cheers!
charles_leclerc: 🥂
user312: this has been some kind of crazy turn around
user313: considering we all thought they had broken up not long ago we have come SO far
charles_leclerc: i'd have the whole world mad at me if it kept you by my side
yourusername: i love you so much
user314: tbf i'd say a good 80% of people were mad at you when you were being ferrari's bitch
charles_leclerc: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY I'M SORRY
sebastianvettel: if it's any consolation, he was very torn up about it
yourusername: i know what happened charles, don't worry. i know you're dedicated to your craft and have people you want to win for
charles_leclerc: but i'm also dedicated to you
yourusername: we're in it together, forever now
yourusername: although this does mean ferrari have to deal with me now
user314: ugh they're so precious
carlossainz55: i'll have the last laugh don't you worry. you may have won the battle but you have not won the war.
user315: does this guy ever Shut the FUCK UP
user316: i'm bored. can't you just let them be happy
carlossainz55: no.
fin.
note: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but here she is, can't tell whether i love it or hate it - probably because i've been looking at it so long xx i guess p5 will be out hopefully some time soon and i hope my tagging works
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5sospenguinqueen · 4 months
Text
Bedtime Stories Pt 2 | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader
Summary: Daniel made a silly little comment that lost him everything. Over a year later, he tries his hardest to fix his mistakes.
Warnings: Swearing. A tiny smidge of angst but mainly fluff. Redemption for Daniel.
Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2023. For the purpose of this, Daniel has been with AlphaTauri the whole time.
Main Masterlist
prev.
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28•05•2023
danielricciardo just posted
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liked by redbullracing, YourUserName and others
danielricciardo monaco, always a delight. P11. so close to the points but racing through your streets feels like being on a podium
4,337 comments
landonorris and whose attention are we trying to grab with that sexy last pic 👀
→ danielricciardo only yours, mate 
→ User1 don’t act like you’re not dying inside because y/n liked this 
→ User2 relax, they never unfollowed each other 🙄
maxverstappen1 you’ll get them next time, mate
→ danielricciardo fancy giving me a tow?
→ maxverstappen1 never
→ User3 i love their friendship so much
User4 um, did anyone see that y/n liked and then unliked this post 
→ User5 omg yes! sis was caught stalking and we love her for it 
→ User6 i too would thirst over my ex if he looked like that 
kellypiquet we were watching the whole time
liked by danielricciardo
→ User7 what a weird comment to make?
→ User8 who’s we, kelly? 
→ User9 what does this mean? 
 
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04•06•2023
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Tweet 1
User10 @ kikiki babe did you hit your head? is that why you were in the ER? they broke up
User11 @ kikiki maybe ask them to do a head scan whilst you're there 'cause ain't no way you saw here there
→ User12 literally. like why would she even be in spain right now?
Tweet 2
User11 i think we might have to apologise to @ kikiki
→ User10 can we really trust the wag page though? They did report that Lando was having a secret love child the other week..?
Tweet 3
User13 asking the real questions because she's not even hinted that she’s been writing so it’s not like she’s on a book tour or anything?
→ User14 some people are saying she could be on vacation but please, why would mother choose a holiday destination during a time that she knows is a GP?
User15 guys, guys, I think our sacrifice circle worked 
→ User16 please, please, 🕯️🕯️
User 17 how poetic would it be though if they got back together  during the spanish GP when they broke up at the spanish GP a year ago 
User18 shouldn’t you know these answers, and that she was in spain, if you're her so-called updates page
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22•08•2023
YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others
YourUserName some big news approaching 
6,349 comments
kellypiquet i can’t wait, my beautiful girl 
→ YourUserName thank you for being my #1 support
→ kellypiquet thank you for letting me help plan
→ User1 what does this mean? 
→ User2 miss piquet stop being so cryptic on socials 
maxverstappen1 i’m very excited 
→ YourUserName did kelly force you to write that because i could feel the excitement oozing through the screen
→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to say something worse 
→ YourUserName i hope she leaves you
→ kellypiquet behave, you two! 
→ User3 i live for max and y/n terrorising each other, even without danny ric being around to encourage it
bloomsburypublishing we look forward to the end result
User4 i’m sorry but is this a soft launch?
User5 who is that in the last slide, miss y/n?
→ User6 the inspiration behind a new romance we hope
User7 don’t be shy. tag him 
User8 soft launches have recently become my least favourite thing
charles_leclerc are you perhaps writing my next plane read
→ YourUserName depends how long the flight is 
→ User9 confirmation of a new book ya’ll!! everyone say thank you charles
User10 i like to be edged by her books, not by her hiding her man
User11 don't try and distract us with news of a new book, we wanna know who the feet belong to!
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01•09•2023
danielricciardo just posted
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liked by maxverstapen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others
danielricciardo ciao a tutti. lovely sightseeing in beautiful Italy
6,445 comments
User12 you’re telling me that i’m currently in the same country as THE daniel ricciardo?
kellypiquet i’m still trying to recover from that hike
→ User13 kelly and max went on a double date with daniel and the new girl?!
→ User14 omg please be y/n. i can’t imagine kelly agreeing to it otherwise
User15 i know he's trying to distract us with his beauty but we see the last slide, daniel. we see it
pierregasly so you’re telling me that you were in milan and didn’t bother to come and see me? that’s it. i'm ending our friendship
→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, mate. i was doing more important things
→ pierregasly clearly ;)
User16 someone check on y/n, please
→ User17 babe is clearly having the time of her life in italy (yes, i'm delusional)
User18 does nobody find it odd that he’s posting a soft launch not long after y/n posted a soft launch
→ User19 i know! it’s only been three weeks since hers and he’s posting one
→ User20 i can’t decide whether they’re soft launching each other or he’s trying to make her jealous by flaunting a new relationship as well
→ User21 it HAS to be each other or i will die
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15•10•2023
lando.jpg just posted
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liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others
lando.jpg so i attended this event… and no, it’s not mine before you all freak out
8,223 comments
charles_leclerc it was a beautiful day ❤️
alexandrasaintmleux i’m so thankful to have been a part of such wonderful memories
kellypiquet the most beautiful bride i have ever seen
maxverstappen1 this was a nicer caption than i expected from you
→ danielricciardo agreed
→ landonorris i take offence to that
User1 guys do we think kelly and max got married? they’ve both comments on this?
→ User2 yes but so did charles and alex so…
→ User3 plus, i know kelly is stunning but do we really think she would call herself the most beautiful bride in 3rd person?
georgerussell63 i’m surprised you remember much after the state you were in
→ landonorris excuse you but most of that was just pure happiness
hulkhulkenberg an amazing day
estebanocon so happy to have been a part of this
alex_albon how’s the hangover, mate
→ landonorris i didn’t drink that much!
→ georgerussell63 tell that to the bouquet that you puked on
→ landonorris i caught it so it was mine anyway
carlossainz55 beautiful photos. she’ll love those
→ User4 who’s she?!
lewishamilton🤍🩵
fernandoalo_official congratulations to the happy couple
User5 the entire grid are commenting on this post, clearly having been in attendance. who IS IT?
pierregasly c’était une belle mariée
liked by YourUserName
User6 guys, y/n’s name on socials just changed from y/l/n to ricciardo
liked by danielricciardo
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03•04•2024
YourUserName just posted with danielricciardo
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liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and others
YourUserName my husband helped with this project. baby ric coming aug 2024
9,550 comments
kellypiquet you will be the most beautiful mother. i’m so honoured to be part of this with you 💕
→ YourUserName stop you’re going to make me cry. you’ll be the most perfect godmother
→ kellypiquet i still think you should've married me instead
maxverstappen1 i call godfather
→ landonorris no you don’t get to call godfather! you already got to be a groomsman
→ maxverstappen1 yeah because who helped get them back together
→ YourUserName kelly
→ danielricciardo me
→ YourUserName no, babe
danielricciardo and before you all ask, no I haven’t stopped crying since she told me
→ kellypiquet me too, dan, me too
maxverstappen1 on a serious note, i am very happy for the two of you. y/n will be a wonderful mother, and daniel, he’ll be there also
charles_leclerc i am so excited. alex keeps telling me to stop buying baby things for you guys but i just don’t listen
→ YourUserName well at least you can safely say that uncle charl bought little mcqueen’s love
→ User7 uncle charl!!!!
lewishamilton congratulations, you two. y/n looks amazing
fernandoalo_official how lovely 💚
User8 omg it WAS their wedding lando attended!!!!!
hulkhulkenberg baby ricciardo!!
pierregasly congratulations. i can’t wait to be uncle GASSLYYYYYY
alex_albon welcome baby ricciardo
→ lilymhe it’s not an alien, alex. you don’t have to greet it so formally
redbullracing we’re all so excited for the upcoming grid baby. working on a racer stroller right this minute
→ mclaren you stole our gift idea!
→ redbullracing you stole our driver!
carlossainz55 congratulations y/n and daniel 😄
mercedesamgf1 what wonderful news 🍼
landonorris i’m just so glad i can go back to calling you mum and dad without daniel wanting to drive his car into the barrier
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Please don’t hate me for this! I did say from the beginning that Part 2s would be redemption.
I’ve had this planned and written since before Part 1 was published so when half of you then asked for her to get with another driver/move on, I was like noooooo I’ve already planned their baby 😂
As always. Requests welcome. If you have requested, I promise I’m not ignoring it, it’s been added to my queue
Baby Fever Angst Part 1s
Max’s Version | Lando's Version | Lance’s Version
Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version
Tag list
@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @leclercsluvs @hannannannannannah @lifeless-firefly @sinofwriting @exotic-iris13 @imperfect-paragon @dan3avocado @barcelonaloverf1life @avillagesperson @hard4ndsoft @justzluv @laneyspaulding19 @danielshoe @chocolatefanunknown @redcrescentmoons
Sorry if I missed anyone!
1K notes · View notes
vroomvro0mferrari · 4 months
Text
LN4 | Kiss and Make Up
Summary: You used to get along with your brother’s best friend, but at some point, it all changed. Lando’s rude comments frustrate you to no end, and your brother is fed up with your complaints. Max only sees one solution: you need to make up.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader (enemies to lovers)
WC: 5.0K
Warnings: cursing?
Masterlist
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You heard the keys jiggle in the door, followed by the creaking sound of it opening, and your brother stomping through the hallway of your parental home. You finally have some time off from school after the insane amount of deadlines and exams that filled your last couple of weeks and decided to visit your family. You like studying and university, but it’s nice to come home and be taken care of instead of doing everything on your own. However, you’re still in charge of dinner tonight. You can never make it back home without being forced to make your famous lasagne at least once and tonight’s the night your family will be blessed with your famed, home-made dish. 
Max smiled when he saw you standing in the kitchen, chopping up the veggies for tonight. Although he’d never tell you directly, he had missed you. Max still lived close to your parents whereas you had moved further away for school. It made it difficult to see each other regularly, especially since Max had started Quadrant with Lando and didn’t make the effort to visit you anymore. Seeing you in person had become a rare occurrence, something that would only happen in his parents’ house.
Max put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned forward to watch what you were doing. “Hey sis, are you making lasagne?” He said with a smile.
“Hello Y/N, I’ve missed you. How are you doing? – I’m doing well, Max. Thank you for asking.” You mumbled as you continued to cut vegetables for dinner.
You couldn’t see it with your back towards your brother, but he smiled at your antics. “Hello my dear sister, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I do wonder how you’re doing.”
You turned around and smiled when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s your own fault. You never come to visit me, but I’m doing well now that the exams are over,” you tell him with a chuckle.
Max decided to ignore your complaint, instead redirecting the conversation to what you were busying yourself with. “So, lasagne?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Max. I’m making lasagne for dinner.” 
He silently cheered at your response. A cheeky smile made its way onto his face when he asked, “Is there enough for one more?”
“Depends… Who’s it for? P?” You said, looking back over your shoulder to meet his eyes as you cut up more veggies.
“Does it matter who I invited? You won’t let anyone else eat your lasagne?” He said with a laugh, but you knew the question was serious. He knew you didn’t particularly get along with some of his friends – actually, one of his friends, Lando. To say your relationship with Lando isn’t great would be an understatement. Max didn’t know why exactly you didn’t get along, you’ve never indulged him, but the dislike is clearly noticeable and has been going on for ages. Max had tried to improve the relationship in the past, but nothing had worked, only making it worse. He doesn’t understand why Lando, specifically; you don’t seem to have any issues with his other friends. 
You looked at Max pointedly; he was asking for something he already knew. Of course, you’d let people other than P eat your lasagne. There’s only one person that you wouldn’t allow.
Max sighed at your seriousness, “Yes, I’ve invited P,” he told you.
You smiled triumphantly, “Good! I’ve missed her; more than you, actually,” you said with a snort.
Max rolled his eyes at your comment. “I should never have introduced you two. You’re suspiciously close,” he mumbled as he shook his head, leaving the kitchen.
You grinned at his comment and continued to prepare dinner. You carefully cut the veggies, made the sauce and built the lasagne before you covered it with cheese. After you finally put it in the oven, you went to your room to freshen up. Of course, you cannot cut tomatoes without getting juice on your shirt, so clean clothes are a necessity. You quickly changed your shirt, reapplied your deodorant, and fixed up your hair before you heard the door opening, footsteps and voices following soon after. You smiled as you walked down the stairs, excited to see Pietra after months. You walked into the room, ready to hug your brother’s girlfriend, only to see his boyfriend making himself comfortable on the couch.
Your smile dropped from your face in an instant, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Lando,” you said in a low voice. What on earth was he doing here? Your brother told you he’d invited his girlfriend, your friend; was she not here yet? Lando must’ve come to pick something up, right? He wouldn’t visit around this time unless he came to pick something up… Or come for dinner… Judging by how comfortable he had made himself on the couch, you doubt it’s the former.
“Y/N! How are you?” Lando said, getting up from the couch to properly greet you. You scoffed and folded your arms as he moved closer.
“What are you doing here?” 
“Nice to see you too,” Lando said with a smirk.
“I hope you’re not here for dinner,” you continue.
“I am here for dinner, actually. Max invited me.”
You shifted your eyes over to Max in anger. He’d told you P would be coming over, not Lando. The little bitch. 
“I take it P’s not coming, then?” It was evident in your voice that you were upset.
Max looked at you with apologetic eyes, like a child being scolded, as he avoided your gaze. At the lack of response, you turned your attention back to Lando.
“There isn’t enough food for all of us, and even if there was, it probably wouldn’t match your fancy diet anyway. Go buy a salad or something,” you told him, rolling your eyes.
Lando couldn’t help but smile at your response. “Such hostility,” he said, his hand resting on his chest in fake hurt, and a teasing grin on his face that made you want to slap it off.
You gritted your teeth at the teasing – God, this man frustrated you to no end, and he was enjoying it, too. 
“Fuck off, Lando. You’re not welcome here,” you said before walking away.
Lando was about to follow you into the dining room, unable to resist teasing you further, but Max stopped him. “Come on, man. Don’t provoke her. She’s already annoyed, especially because I lied to her.” 
You paced the dining room in an attempt to calm yourself down while the lasagne cooked in the oven. You grabbed the plates from the cabinet and started setting the table. You'd cooled off until you realised you’d have to set a place for Lando. You frowned as you stared at the last plate. Why couldn’t Lando just leave you alone? He should know not to bother you, you’d shown him before how petty you could be when he frustrated you, so why did he have to try again and again? Should you act like the bigger person, get over yourself and set the table for Lando, or should you 'forget' about Lando and set only four places? Your parents would be upset for sure, but the urge to retaliate is so strong. You stood still for at least a minute as you weighed your options. 
A smile crept its way on your face when you spotted the kids’ table in the corner of the dining room. Usually, it’s only used for big family events, when your much younger cousins would come to visit. They don’t properly fit at the adult table and have their own tiny table in the corner of the room. A normal-sized human wouldn’t properly fit on one of the seats, but then again, Lando’s short, right? Besides, if he acts like a child, then he can sit at the children’s table. You grab the children’s cutlery and plate from the cabinet and set a special place for Lando. You can barely keep your laughter back at the thought of Lando sitting at the small table in a chair that’s way too tiny for him.
When you heard the timer beep, you tried to neutralise your expression. You placed the lasagne on the kitchen table before calling your family (and Lando) for dinner. Your parents were, unsurprisingly, the first to join you at the table. The boys, naturally, were still finishing up the game they started before dinner was finished. Your parents were already seated and provided with drinks before the boys came walking in. Although your parents hadn’t noticed the table in the corner or the missing chair, your brother noticed straight away.
He looked at you disappointedly as he said, “Y/N, did you seriously not set a place for Lando?”
“No, I did. It’s right over there,” you said, pointing to the kids’ table.
The boys looked in the direction you were pointing, and Max started laughing immediately. Meanwhile, Lando was shocked at how blunt you were being. So far, every retaliation you’d ever taken wasn’t that obvious. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and disappointment as he stared at the table – did you really dislike him that much?
“Where’s the other chair?” Max asked, still chuckling as he stood at the empty spot by the table.
You didn’t look up when you responded, “I don’t know,” shrugging your shoulders as you casually continued to divide the lasagne.
Lando sighed as he tried the chair, his knees pointing out above the table. Max only laughed louder at the image, and your dad couldn’t resist chuckling either while Lando pouted.
“I can’t eat like this.” 
“Then don’t. I told you you’re not welcome.” 
“Y/N!” Your mum scolded you before turning to Lando. “You’re always welcome here, darling. Ignore her,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.
You rolled your eyes.
“Where did you put the chair?” She questioned you.
You sighed, “They’re just in the pantry,” you admitted.
Your mum stood up and grabbed the chair for Lando who was still sitting in the tiny seat, while Max took pictures to post on his story, laughing. Lando smiled thankfully when she came back with the chair and grabbed a normal plate to serve him a generous portion of your homemade lasagne.
You couldn’t help but glare at Lando when he took his first bite. He was undeserving of the food which you had put so much effort and love into. You couldn’t even enjoy your own portion with the boy sitting across from you, although it tasted great. But Lando couldn't enjoy it either with the glares you kept sending him. Your resentment made him uncomfortable, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d be afraid that you’d poisoned his dinner. That was not your style though; he knew exactly how you liked to take your revenge. After all, he had experienced your wrath many times, and he had to admit you were very creative in creating your retaliations. He could never be entirely sure, or prove that you were the cause, but everything about the weird situations he’d been in the past years screamed your name.
There was one time that he’d gotten tens of phone calls every day for a week about a missing key. Even now, he occasionally gets calls about a key that was found. It seems quite innocent, but Lando’s phone was blowing up the entire week at the most inconvenient times: while he was in important meetings, when he was spending time with friends, even when he was streaming. Another time, Lando’s Netflix was completely messed up. All the recommendations on his home screen were for kids’ TV and romcoms. This, too, seems innocent enough, but after he had watched Netflix together with Daniel Ricciardo, and his homepage was filled with Cocomelon, The Kissing Booth, Riverdale and other films and series of the same genre, he had to hear about it for years to come. Some other time, Lando’s clothes mysteriously fell apart after only a few hours of wearing them after he’d stayed the night at Max's place at the same time as you. He didn't know how, but he was sure you had something to do with that too.
Although your reactions were very petty and often childish, Lando did admire your perseverance, resourcefulness and creativity. If he wasn’t always the victim of your crimes, he would have loved them, and perhaps even encouraged them, because, let’s be honest, it’s impressive if you can make someone’s clothes fall apart when you’re not even near them.
Lando didn’t really understand why he was always your victim, though. When you were younger, you’d gotten along fine, but as you’d gotten older you’d become meaner to him. He didn't know where things went wrong, and whether it was his fault or you just decided you were done with him. You used to tease each other, yes, but that was always mutual and lighthearted. Neither of you minded the comments that were made because you both knew it was all in good fun. At some point, you just started doing things like these, and Lando still doesn't know what initiated it.
You know exactly when it started, though. Everything was fine until Max and Lando hit puberty. Suddenly, they were ‘too cool’ to hang out with you, and you were excluded from all of their activities. The teasing didn’t really feel like teasing anymore, but rather mean comments that hurt you. Lando never caught onto your change in perception; he thought you still saw it as teasing. But the comments became more rude over time, and it felt like the boys who were your friends once, were now making fun of you.
Like when you were invited to apply for Honours College at your university. You were extremely proud that your grades in your regular courses were good enough to be admitted, and that you’d been invited to apply. But Lando just called you a nerd and laughed before continuing to talk about his own achievements, as if what you’d done was nothing important or impressive.
It wouldn’t have mattered much if it were any other friend of your brother, but Lando was important. You’d known him for about ten years, and he was basically a part of your family. What didn’t help either was that you had developed a small crush on him over the years. By the time he turned twenty, he’d gone through a glow-up. He finally learned how to deal with his curly hair and his face had matured to that of a handsome man. You were attracted to him, but his ugly personality distracted from his looks – most of the time.
Nevertheless, you wanted to impress Lando; to make him like you so he would stop with the off-handed comments. Though you weren’t necessarily good at sports or karting like he was, you excelled academically. You thought by showing your intelligence, you could gain his respect. Unknowingly, it made Lando feel dumb. He’d never even finished secondary school, and you were taking on extra classes in university without any troubles. He reacted differently than he would have liked to, but he thought you’d understand it was a joke.
Another time, you organised a last-minute surprise party for your brother. You had made sure there were decorations, music, food, and most importantly, drinks. You were happy with what you had managed to do in the time available, but your mood significantly worsened when Lando jokingly said you could have put in a little more effort. He was smiling when he said it, but it felt like he was making fun of you; of the amount of effort you had put in to make sure everything was organised as perfectly as possible. Despite his intention to tease, it didn't feel that way to you.
The comment that you believe triggered your best revenge was on Pietra’s birthday. She celebrated her birthday at Max’s apartment, and of course, you’d come to visit and celebrate with her. A few months before her birthday she’d shown you a top she really liked when she was online shopping, but the colour wasn’t right. So, for her birthday, you decided to crochet the top in her favourite colour. It was a bold choice because you didn’t have much experience crocheting, nevertheless, you tried. If she didn’t like it, you would just buy it from the store after all, or get her something else. You thought it looked pretty good, especially for your first try. Regardless, there were some mistakes and uneven shapes.
Pietra was completely surprised and elated with the present, especially when you told her you made it yourself. She knew how much time and effort it probably cost you to make it, but Lando didn't consider that when he commented on the piece.
“You made it yourself? Maybe you should practice a little more, huh?” He said, laughing, before handing it back to P.
You felt the smile drop from your face at the hurtful remark, but Lando was oblivious to the fact he hurt your feelings. Max turned to Lando in shock, while Pietra assured you that she loved the top, and couldn’t wait to wear it. You plastered a smile on your face, but it was obvious (to anyone but Lando) that it was fake. That night, after drinking your feelings away, you tore the seams in Lando’s clothes. Not every single one, but enough so it would fall apart after too much exertion; the punishment should fit the crime.
The anticipatory pleasure at the thought of Lando’s clothes tearing at an inconvenient moment was enough to satisfy you. When you heard about what happened a few days later from Max, you could barely keep your laugh back.
More recently, you had gone clubbing with your brother and his friends. It was an unusual event because your brother didn’t want to see you flirting or dancing with random boys in the club, but this time it was different. He knew you’d been stressed from school, and he’d rather you let loose when he’s there than when he’s not there to keep an eye on you. 
You were dancing with your brother and his friends when a cute boy came up to you, asking if he could buy you a drink. You said yes, of course. You would never refuse a free drink, especially in good, handsome, company, and you wanted to get over your small crush on Lando. You don’t know why or how, but he always seemed ten times hotter in a club, and you needed to get away from him. The longer you stayed near him, the more his pretty face and well-dressed body seemed to distract you from his unattractive personality, and that couldn’t happen. 
You followed the man to the bar and ordered a drink as he flirted with you. His attention was completely focused on you, but you kept getting distracted by the feeling of eyes on your back. It wasn’t until you were dancing in the middle of the large crowd that the feeling faded. You felt free without the supervision of your brother, and without Lando to distract you.
The man pulled your back closer to him, and you let him. You swayed from side to side with your arms in the air while he kissed his way down your neck. It didn’t feel right, but that didn’t matter; it was good enough. You liked the feeling of his lips on your neck and felt yourself get lost in the moment until suddenly there was a tug on your arm.
Your eyes opened in shock as you felt yourself get pulled away. The man you were dancing with didn’t seem to mind much and moved on with another girl standing nearby as you stared at Lando confused and disoriented.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him as you struggled to pull your arm from his firm grip.
“I’m taking you back to the group, you need to be more careful,” he explained.
You scoffed, “What? I was perfectly safe! Let me go!”
“Were you? He seemed untrustworthy,” Lando continued as he pulled you through the club.
“I was just having fun! God, you’re so annoying!” You say with a huff before walking back to your brother.
Lando watched you as you walked away. He didn't want you to dance with that man, or any man for that matter, even though he would never admit it. However, you had misunderstood his intentions. To you it seemed like he was interrupting your fun, cockblocking if you will, and it frustrated you to no end. 
For days to come, you complained to your brother about what happened, insisting that it was none of Lando’s business and he should’ve left you alone. However, your brother grew tired of your complaints really quickly and couldn’t deal with your issues anymore. Your ongoing dispute with Lando had dragged on for too long and it needed to be resolved, soon, before he went insane. During your next fight, Max would force the two of you to repair your relationship, whether you wanted to or not, because he simply couldn’t take it any longer.
It didn’t take long until your next fight. You were looking at pictures of Lando and Max on Instagram from when they went golfing a few days back when you spotted something. In one of the pictures, Lando was taking a photo with a camera, a camera which he had seemingly ‘borrowed’ from you without your knowledge. 
The second you saw him enter your parents’ house, you targeted him.
“You stole my camera?”
“Hello to you, too, Y/N,” he responded with a grin.
You rolled your eyes.
“Where is it, Lando,” you continued, stepping closer to him.
“I gave it to Max. He was supposed to give it back. He hasn’t yet?” 
“No, he hasn’t. And you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”
Your gaze shifted to Max, who walked in behind Lando.
“Where is it, Max?” 
“In my room somewhere, I think.”
“Can you go grab it? Please?”
The words you said were much kinder than the way you said them. Max sighed before walking up the stairs to his room, you and Lando in tow. He looked around the room, getting on his knees to look under the bed.
“You put my camera under your bed?” You asked angrily.
“I’m not sure if I did, that’s why I’m looking, Y/N.”
Max thought this was the absolute worst. He had gotten himself pulled into one of your arguments again, and now he was being yelled at by you when it wasn’t his fault to begin with. He sighed before getting up. 
“I’ll just go grab my phone for the flashlight,” he said before leaving the room.
You merely nodded in response as you continued to look around the room in search of your camera when you heard the door close, the lock falling in place.
“Max? Did you just lock the door?”
Lando lifted his head from his place on the floor, where he was looking under the dresser, at your insinuation. He quickly changed his position to sit up, staring at the door with you.
“Yes, I did. The two of you need to make up. I won’t let you out until you get along. I can’t handle the two of you fighting anymore. It’s really fucking annoying,” he said through the door.
You looked at Lando in shock, to find him already staring back at you.
“Max, you can’t do this! What the fuck is wrong with you! Let us out!” You yelled as you knocked on the door.
When he didn’t react, you hit the door again, “Max!”
You looked at Lando at the lack of response, “Do something!” You said, but he merely looked at you.
“What am I supposed to do? Knocking the door won’t help. I actually think it might be a good idea for us to talk everything out.”
You looked at Lando in shock. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged while he stared at you, and you shook your head in response.
“I’m not doing this,” you said, pacing around the room while Lando followed you with his eyes as he sat on your brother’s bed, an amused smile on his face.
“I’m leaving,” you said, opening the window.
“What are you doing?” Lando asks, quickly getting up from the bed.
“I’m leaving,” you repeated, sitting on the window sill, throwing one leg outside.
“What have I done to you to make you this angry? I can’t believe you’d rather fall out of a window than talk to me,” Lando frowned.
You let out a choked laugh, mouth open in shock. “Are you serious? You don’t know what you’ve done?” You said as you sat on the window sill, one leg outside the window, the other still on the floor.
“Yes. Please tell me, because I’ve obviously missed a lot if you’re willing to climb out of a window. By the way, stop climbing out of the window!” Lando said, all but running to prevent you from dangling your other leg out of the window too. It was already halfway there, leaving you in a very uncomfortable position when Lando grabbed your leg.
“You’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N!” 
“No, I’m not,” you grunted out as you tried to kick him away. You leaned away from him, losing your grip on the windowsill at the exertion. Lando could barely catch you before you fell out of the window. 
“Fuck, Y/N! I told you to get away from the window!” He yelled as he pulled you away from it and back into the room before quickly closing the window. He stood in front of it as if he was trying to block your way from the window, trying to block your escape.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t be such a baby, I’m fine.” 
“Only because I was holding your leg.”
“If you weren’t holding my leg I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.” You stepped closer to him, huffing in defiance. 
Lando sighed, but he didn’t respond. He kept silent while he stared at you, challenging you as you crept closer without breaking eye contact. The tension in the room was palpable, and it only increased the longer you stared at each other. Your breath was shallow from the adrenaline of your near-fall, and your glare was met with a look of annoyance. Lando’s hands hung limply by his sides, the complete opposite of a mere moment ago when he grabbed you with such urgency.
"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Lando's voice was low, strained with frustration.
"Me?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You're the one who's always so demeaning, so... so infuriating!"
"Infuriating?" Lando repeated, scoffing. "Coming from the girl who sabotages my Netflix and sets up kiddie tables for me?"
"You deserved it," you retorted, folding your arms and looking down. "You always mock me and belittle everything I do, every achievement, every effort… Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
Lando’s confidence faltered at your confession. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, stroking your arm softly. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I thought... I thought we were just joking around, teasing. I didn't realise-"
"Didn't realise what?" you interrupted, eyes brimming with tears. "That your words actually affect me? That I care what you think?"
Lando's hand reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost adoring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know."
You closed your eyes, breathing out through your nose as you let the apology sink in. When you opened them again, the regret you saw in his eyes made you believe him. But it was the love and adoration in his gaze that convinced you.
"Lando..." you began, but your voice caught in your throat.
Before you could finish, Lando closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was longing. Slowly, almost apprehensively, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in an uncertain kiss.
Your initial surprise was quickly replaced by the warmth spreading through your body. Almost automatically, your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The kiss deepened, filled with your pent-up frustration and unspoken feelings. Your hands slid up Lando's neck and you ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it softly. The sensation of Lando's hands on your body, and his lips against yours felt right, making everything else fade away.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Lando’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and you were certain your eyes showed the same.
“What… what just happened?” you whispered, your voice shaky.
Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was now slightly tousled from your fingers. “I don’t know. But it felt… right.”
You swallowed, trying to make sense of all of the emotions running wild inside you. “We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, Lando.”
“I don’t want to,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. 
You laughed softly at the situation, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder. Lando wrapped his arms around you straight away. 
“This is not what I expected to happen,” you whispered.
Lando chuckled softly. “Me neither, but it’s not so bad, is it?” 
You snuggled into his neck, sighing contently once you were comfortable. No, it wasn't bad at all.
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fictionismyreality3 · 6 months
Text
Simon Introduces You
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Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, military stuff?, nsfw at the end because I’m a whore
Notes: somehow all of my drabbles end with a nsfw scene and I blame the worm in my brain that whispers sweet nothings to me in the night 😔🙏🏻
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He would’ve kept you all to himself if the rest of the team (Johnny) hadn’t kept begging to meet you.
Soap saw that Ghost seemed to be on his phone more and more during down time, his fingers flying across the screen as he responded to someone or something. Even Price was getting curious.
“Who ye textin’, mate?” Johnny slid up next to Simon, poking him with a sing-song tone to his voice and a shit eating grin on his face. “Fuck off, Johnny.” Ghost snapped as he tucked his phone away. “C’mon, big guy, who’s the wee lass who got your balls in a-” Soap was subsequently silenced as Simon put him in a headlock.
Will debate even asking you about whether or not you wanted to meet his team for like 3 weeks at least. What little you know about his work is enough for him, he doesn’t want you in that world.
He had been acting quieter than his usual quiet self. “Simon? Have I done something? You can tell me.” Coming to stand beside him, you reached up and pressed a kiss to his chin. “No, no, dove. I just..” He trailed off, looking out the window. “If it’s about the dishes, I know I said I-” You were silenced by a firm kiss. “Nothin’ like that, luvie. It’s.. the lads wanna meet ya.” Your ears perked up and you swatted at his chest. “Why didn’t you just say that, silly?”
You were given explicit access to visit Simon at the base. Everyone was oddly polite and even looked at you with a little confusion. The poor private escorting you around kept calling you Mrs. Riley, and you had no doubt that was Simon’s doing.
Finally, you were ushered out to a training room of some kind, where you spotted Simon with some other men. “There you are, sweetheart.” He rumbled, coming over to you and wrapping you in his arms. “Missed you, Si.” Gaz had to literally close Soap’s mouth as they watched Ghost, the Ghost, dipping his head to press a kiss on the neck of a pretty girl. “M’glad you’re here, luv.”
The introduction went well, aside from Soap’s teasing. They were all very respectful, even though they all had an air of lethality. Simon kept his arm around you the whole time, internally growing irritated with the jeers about his girl.
Simon’s massive, gloved hand took up nearly your entire face as he muffled your cries. “Wanted me t’show you off, huh?” He growled into your ear as he pounded you into a random briefing room desk. “Wan’ the whole base know your mine, dovie.” Your eyes rolling back only served to remind Simon why he’d never share you. “You’re mine, my- oh god, my fuckin’ girl.” You blushed as you waved goodbye with hickeys you didn’t show up with.
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Text
“Fuck, fuck, shit.” Simon cursed as he ran to the kitchen. He’d lost track of time again, and in the process, burnt the chicken that was supposed to be your dinner for the night.
How did you always make cooking look so effortless? Simon could recall in the dozen times he’d watched you cook for him, how you’d dance around the kitchen with your beautiful head in the clouds.
He sighed deeply before throwing out the chicken, frustrated with himself that he couldn’t cook a single dish right today. He’d been in the kitchen all day trying various recipes, and ended up wasting nearly your entire fridge of food in his attempts.
Simon ran a hand through his hair, frowning as he now had nothing planned for tonight, and had a little over an hour until you’d come home. You’d had a long week, and he figured the least he could do for you was to make you dinner.
With seemingly no other options, Simon decided to go with his last resort- takeout. He’d remembered you said that you wanted to try the new diner down the road, so he quickly dialed the restaurant and ordered something he was sure you’d like, including your favorite bottle of wine.
~
With ten minutes to spare, Simon raced through the front door, and began to set up the kitchen table for your arrival. He set out your favorite candles, poured each of you a size-able amount of wine, and out the food from the takeout containers, setting it all neatly on the table.
Upon hearing the click of the front door, Simon quickly put the finishing touches on the table, before making his way over to you- his eyes softening as they landed on your tired frame. “Hey, sweetheart.”
You looked up at your boyfriend, your foul mood immediately forgotten upon looking at the shy smile lining his lips. “Hey, Si.”
Simon walked over to you, grabbing your coat from you and placed it on the back of the couch. He turned back to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pressing another kiss to your nose. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m starved.” You groaned, grabbing Simons outstretched hand and following him into the kitchen.
You felt tears tricking the corners of your eyes as you took in the sight of the table Simon had prepped for you. You looked over at him, and found him wearing a proud expression. “Oh, Simon you didn’t have to-.”
“Don’t even finish that thought. Just sit, and eat, yeah?” He gestured to your chair, which he held out for you. You giggled slightly as you sat in your chair, and looked down at the food in front of you.
“This looks incredible, Si.” You said in awe, before placing the napkin in your lap.
“I’ll certainly say you make dinner look like a breeze. I uh..didn’t have the easiest time with what to do for tonight.” Simon chuckled, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.
“Oh my god, this is amazing. You cooked this yourself?” You asked, your eyes practically rolling in the back as you took a bite of the food.
He was going to tell you, he honestly was, but with the way you were looking up at him in complete admiration had Simons heart melting, and before he knew what he was doing, he was nodding at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Yeah, ‘s nothin.”
“Nothing my behind. You’ll be Chef Riley from now on this house. This is incredible, all of it. Thank you.” You praised, practically beaming up at your boyfriend.
Simon felt his cheeks burn red at your praise as he continued to eat, occasionally stealing glances at you throughout dinner.
Conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you finished eating, and Simon could see the weight of the day visibly leaving your shoulders as you began to relax into your chair.
Simon stood and bent down to place a lingering kiss to your lips, causing you to moan softly against him. You sighed deeply before pulling away from him. “I should help you clean this up.”
“Don’t worry about clean up, love, that’s my job come mornin’. You’re my priority right now.” He spoke, as he looped his arm underneath your thighs and began to carry you bridal style toward the bedroom. “Be a good pup and let me take care of you.”
~
You, of course, would never mention the takeout containers you found in the trash can the next morning - after all, “Chef Riley” did have a nice ring to it.
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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 3 months
Note
Sorry for english mistakes, it is not my first language. Can we have more of what ‘Familial Issues Anon’ was talking about? Requesting for more Brother Aegon but it is not tied to the previous fic? Like Aegon and Little Sister Reader growing up with one another and the ideas of the Anon that requested it? Sorry it is my first tine asking for a fic request!
THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x READER ) [ PREQUEL? ]
AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Young! Aegon Targaryen x Little Sis! Reader prompt: Aegon finds himself enable to grasp the thought of losing you forever. word count: 1, 000+ words
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You were a pest. No, you were a clingy pest. Like a leech. Aegon's personal leech. You just stuck to him. No matter how many times he tried to get rid of you, you came waddling back to him like a little duckling. You'd stare up at him, big puppy dog eyes and a giddy smile. So pure, so untouched. He wanted to ruin you. To ruin that good you had in you, in hopes it would make you stop clinging onto him. But, it never worked.
He could spout out the cruelest of insults to you, and you'd just stare at him. So innocent that the words did not click in his head. He could push you, and you'd just stand back up unflinching. Still seeing the best in him. He hated it. It was odd. Why could you not see the bad in him? The bad that everyone else saw in him? Why did you have to be so good? So sweet? So loving?
He hated it. Yet, he craved your presence. There was something nice about having you by his side. You weren't like Jace, trying to impress him. Or as much of a follower as Luke, wanting to fit in. You just adored him and everything he did. Like a stupid puppy. It was a battle within him.
"She's a pest." Yes, but she's your little sister.
"She sees too much good in me." Yes, but wasn't that better than hate?
"She was too young." Yes, only eleven and still too naive to understand just how horrid and rotten he was. But, she made him smile with her child-like wonder of the world.
"She loves you." Yes, she was the only one that did. Or at least, the only one that did love him for him. No matter how rotten he was. 
"She's too clingy." Yes, but one day she will grow out of it and suddenly the loneliness will come creeping back in. She won’t be there trailing after him, or hug him, or smile at him. 
"One day she will marry and leave you all alone." Yes, but for now you were his little sister. You were his little duckling. His little shadow. His little pest and he wanted to cling onto that a little longer. 
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Watching you trailing after Aemond like a puppy, he scowls deeply, hatred and jealousy bubbling inside of him. You were supposed to be his little shadow. Not Aemond's. Keeping his distance for now, he watches as you give Aemond a big hug and smile, nodding your little head enthusiastically at whatever he says. The scowl on his face grows more and more deep. What could Aemond say that made you so happy? Watching you hand Aemond a linen cloth, he grows even more angry. No, no, no, that was his thing. You were supposed to give him gifts! Not Aemond.
Not being able to hold back any longer, he stalks towards the two of you, a dark glare on his face pointed towards Aemond. There was no way in the Seven hells was he going to allow Aemond to steal you from him. You were his pest. You were his. Not Aemond. Aemond could have Helaena or Jace and Luke for all he cared. You were his. You were meant to cling onto him. Watching you ramble away to Aemond, he straightens out, puffing up his chest to look more bigger. 
"Oh, Y/n.." He calls out, a hint of sing-song tone in his voice.
"Egg!" You cheerfully call out, your words lisping together.
"Aegon. We've been over this. It's Aegon, not Egg." He huffs, rolling his eyes.
“What are you doing here, Egg?” You ask, not catching his annoyance. 
Watching you completely forget about Aemond, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you on his back in a piggy back ride. You were a little heavy and too big to be carried in such a manner, but he didn’t care. If it meant keeping you close to him, he would grit his teeth and do it. Hearing you giggle loudly, he walks away from Aemond, shooting a deadly glare over his shoulder. As if he was a dog pissing on the ground to mark his territory. He wanted to be clear to everyone, you were his.
“Does not matter.” He brushes off, “We are going to the kitchen’s, I heard they are making lemon cakes.”
“Lemon cakes?”
“Yes, I think we can steal a few of them.” He nods, “What do you say, hm? An adventure with your big brother?”
“I would like that.” You smile, making him perk up.
"Good, good, because I wan't going to put you down anyways."
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Watching as you dissect the lemon cake, you push the bitter lemon frosting away with your fork, piling it up on the side of the plate. Smiling softly as you turn your plate so he could eat the frosting, his gaze softens ever so slightly, shoulder’s relaxing. You were too kind. Even when eating your food, you still wanted to share with him, knowing that the frosting was always his favorite part. Pushing his uneaten slice closer to you, he had no desire to eat the lemon cake anymore, just wanting to see you smile some more. 
“Aegon?” You mumble, playing with your food with your fork. 
“Yes?” 
“I have a question.” You stare at the plate, “About marriage.”
“Marriage? What in the Seven’s name is making you think of marriage? You’re too young for that.” 
“Grandsire said I will one day make a good wife and mother. That I must follow my studies closely.” You mumble, “Do you think that I will be a good wife and mother one day?”
Furrowing his brows in confusion, he didn’t know why you were asking such a question, you were a long way away before marriage would become a concern. You barely turned ten and one, weeks ago. You should be focused on other matter’s, like embroidery or whatever stupid Court gossip spread around.
Wrinkling his nose up the more he thinks of you getting married, the more he dislikes the thought. You were too young, and too important for him to let you succumb to such a boring fate. If he was King, you would never have to marry. You two would just fly on dragon back and have fun all day. 
“I do. But, that’s like a billion years from now.” He rolls his eyes, exaggerating with his words.
“Do you think so? I know of many other girl’s who are already betrothed.” You mumble, playing with the frosting. 
“Yes, well, those other girls aren’t you. You're a Princess, a Targaryen one. You’re important and different from them. They're dull.” He shakes his head, refusing to compare you to the other girl in Court.
“You think so?” You ask, eyes full of so much hope.
“I know so. We’re Targaryen’s! Everyone wants to be us because we are special and they are dull and common.” He smiles, “There’s a thousand of them, and only one of you. You’re special.”
Watching as a big goofy smile spreads on your face, he perks up at the sight, happy to cause such joy within you. Picking apart the lemon cake with his fork, he watches as your eyes lower down to your plate, shoulder’s slouching for a moment. The smile on your face falters for a moment, almost as if some thought popped in your head and ruined the moment. Furrowing his brows at how quick the joy is gone, he wanted to punch whoever or whatever had popped into your head. 
“What is it?” He asks, slightly concerned by your shift in mood. 
“But, Grandsire said⎯”
“You are barely reaching your ten and two name day. You are too young to be considered a wife or Mother.” He shakes his head dismissively, “Grandsire is a fool. Do not let such things upset you. I won’t let them marry you off. You’ll stay here in the Red Keep with me, for like, forever.” 
Little did either of you know, that just on the other end of the Red Keep.Your marriage had already been arranged, and soon you’d be shipped off.
---
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sainns · 4 months
Text
LIKE OR LIKE LIKE.
𝓢. ㅤㅤthis is the the first time you've ever gotten drunk and of course you go and confess to your best friend.
SJYㅤ✶ ㅤ (⠀femreader⠀) . . . best friends to lovers (kind of, they don't explicitly start dating), fluff, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk, not proofread.ㅤ1428 words
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“i’ve never seen her drunk before,” sunghoon points to where you’re leaning against the wall.
jake turns to look at you, watching as you talk to chaewon. you’re continously taking sips of your drink, a sleepy smile on your face as you listen to your friend’s (most likely) drunk ramblings. he can tell you’re tipsy, at the very least; your body is swaying, it seems like you’re having a hard time staying upright.
“yeah.. i’m gonna go lay her down before it gets worse. i don’t want her to wake up sick,”
sunghoon gives jake a knowing look, shrugging as he takes a sip of his own drink, “predictable,”
“what?”
“nothing,”
sunghoon grins, patting jake on the head before walking away to—jake assumes—bother his girlfriend. the older boy shakes his head, running a hand through his already messy hair, turning around once more to watch you.
this is the first time you’ve ever gotten drunk, he thinks. you’ve mentioned before that it’s because you’re scared of how you’ll act, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of them. he’s glad that you’re more comfortable now, and at least you’re only here with them, your friends, and not at some party full of strangers and weirdos.
he watches as chaewon pats your back, albeit a little forcefully, before she leaves to find someone new to bother. he also watches you attempt to follow her but give up halfway through your first step. he smiles to himself, heading over to where you’re standing—or leaning.
“oookay, no more for you. you can’t even stand straight, dude,” jake takes the red solo cup away and out of your reach, giving you an amused smile. you pout but you don’t put up a fight—you can’t, not fully anyways. if you could, though, you would tell him that he’s being dramatic; six shots and half a cup of jungle juice is hardly anything.
“c’mon, you can go lay down in my room, you look tired,”
“okay,”
you make a move to walk by yourself but jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your waist so that he can guide you away from your friends. it feels like your senses are heightened to a dangerous level because why do you get goosebumps the moment he touches you? you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your heart to calm down.
somehow you make it to his bedroom without stumbling a whole lot (this is 100% thanks to jake; you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to do it yourself), and he taps your side, signaling for you to sit down on his bed, which you do.
he kneels down and pulls your shoes off, setting them on the floor. he pats your thigh, leaving yet another wake of goosebumps on your skin, “stay here, ‘kay? i’m gonna go get you some water,”
“i don’t want any,” you whine, “i’m tired, not thirsty,”
“yeah, well, you’ll be thirsty in a little bit,”
“no, i won’t,”
“yes, you will. you’re drunk,”
you huff, throwing yourself back on the bed, “am not. also you’re so annoying. i don’t want water, i always drink water,”
jake snorts at your antics, tucking his head away as he tries to keep from laughing too loudly. after a few seconds, he calms down and looks back at your figure, smiling fondly. you can’t see him, your eyes closed as you hum some random song that he hasn’t heard since he was ten years old.
you look so serene, he doesn’t want to disturb you. he figures he can just tell sunghoon or someone to come bring some water or he can wait for you to fall asleep.
“i’m sad,” you huff, sitting up slowly.
“why are you sad, hm?” he rests his head against your knee.
you frown at him. his words felt slightly condescending. not that you really cared, in fact it kind of made you feel dizzy. wow, he’s just terrible. looking at you all worried, taking care of you while you’re (not) drunk.
“because of you,”
he sits up at that. he looks like a dog who heard the word ‘snack’ or something. of course, he wasn’t happy. he looked more worried than before, in fact.
“me? what’d i do?”
“you’re just annoying,” you whine, “you know, i like you and it’s kinda funny ‘cause i’m, like, so obvious about it,”
“you like me? like like me?”
“well, actually, i love you,” you pause, “you’re not very smart, now that i think about it. how’d you even graduate? did you cheat? i think everyone knows but you. this is so awful, i can’t believe i had to go and like someone so oblivious. you’re lucky everything else cancels that out,”
“wait, wait, wait. you love me? that’s..” jake asks, his face flushed, completely disregarding everything you said after your confession, “yn, you’re.. you know, you’re drunk,”
“oh, okay,” you push his head away, “look, i’ll tell you tomorrow, ‘cos i really mean it and you’re so annoying and it’s, like, oh my god,” you say something else after that but he can’t tell what. not with you speaking as fast as humanly possible paired with drunken slurring.
he nods slowly, processing your words, “yeah.. okay. you can’t forget, alright?”
you grin, poking his cheek, “duh, i have an amazing memory,”
your amazing memory may be your downfall. surely, you had drank enough to wake up the next morning with zero memory. isn’t that what usually happens when someone gets so drunk they tell their best friend that they like them? not even like, you said you loved him.
and now you’re laying in his bed, face pressed into his pillow, absolutely mortified at your past self’s actions.
you’re never going to speak to him again. you’re going to get up, put your shoes on, and sneak out. yeah, it’ll seem like you’re doing the walk of shame, god forbid anyone catches you, but that’d be less embarrassing than having to talk to jake.
you don’t get the chance to attempt to escape, though, because jake walks in right as you’re weighing your options.
“hey, are you awake? it’s two in the afternoon,” you hear him place a glass on the nightstand as he sits next to you.
you could pretend that you forgot.
you feel his hand rubbing your back, “i heard you groaning, get up,”
“i don’t want to,” you mumble into the pillow, pressing your face into it harder.
“i can’t hear you, you know,”
you groan loudly, picking your head up, “i don’t want to get up,”
“why? are you embarrassed?”
“i didn’t do anything embarrassing,” yes you did.
he nods, “nah, you didn’t. i was just checking, you get embarrassed easily,”
you’re quiet for a moment after that. his hand is still rubbing your back and you can feel your heat beating against your chest. you want to pretend that you forgot about last night but for some reason you can’t. you want to bring it up despite feeling nauseous at the thought of being rejected.
“i like you,”
he smiles, “yesterday you said you love me,”
you gape at him and he laughs loudly. you want to kill both him and yourself.
“i’m sorry—i’m kidding.. i like you too,” he hums, tilting his head, “no, actually, i love you,”
you frown, “you’re embarrassing me,”
he laughs again which makes you want to both laugh and hide away from him, “god, you’re so cute. i kinda wanna kiss you, is that okay?”
you almost say yes before you remember that you just woke up not even twenty minutes ago and you are not going to kiss him with bad breath. especially not when you were drinking the night before.
“i just woke up,”
he leans forward, close enough that you can just barely lift your head and you’ll be able to kiss him, “so?”
“no,” it pains you to do so but you turn your head away from him. you know he won’t kiss you if you don’t want him to but you’d probably fold and kiss him if he kept staring at you like that, “you can.. uh, later. after i brush my teeth,”
he turns you over onto your back, smiling above you brightly. you gasp at the sudden movement, your heart racing yet again (you should go to the hospital), “promise? i really wanna kiss you right now,”
you laugh, reaching your hand up to move his hair out of his face, “yeah, i promise. i really wanna kiss you too.”
964 notes · View notes
beomiracles · 2 months
Text
⌞ 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 ⌝
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DREAM RECALL your brother's best friend always seemed to have it out for you. But when he sneaks into your room one night, you start wonder if this is another one of his sick games.
wc -> 6.2k
pairings brother's best friend!taehyun x afab!reader warnings older!reader, kind of perv!taehyun, protected sex, vaginal fingering, slight edging?, tiny bit of marking (tiny tiny), taehyun refers to reader as "noona", some dom/sub dynamics, sub!taehyun + dom!reader, but they're both kind of switchy, idk how to tag it, just read heh
#serene adds ✎ @binniesbooks ahh baby I know I'm late but here's your little birthday gift!! happy belated birthday love (..◜ᴗ◝..) I originally didn't plan for it to be this long but I can never stfu when I write so I'm not very surprised heh :3 oouuu but I really like how this one turned out and I hope you will to, kisses from serene <3
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The paintings on your wall rattled, the floorboards of your bedroom practically thumping in rhythm to the obnoxiously loud beat coming from your brother’s room. You tried to ignore it, pressing your headphones against your ears as you fought to block out the heavy bass. How long had it been, twenty minutes? It sure felt like three hours. — That’s it, you’d had enough.
Your blaring fists against the wooden door were barely heard, and after your third attempt, you kicked it open, causing it to slam against the wall with such force that Beomgyu finally turned around in his seat. His gaze flits between the squeaking door and your furious figure. “Sup sis?” He flashes you a small grin, leaning back in his gaming chair as he studies you expectantly. 
His ignorance only fueled the fire already searing within you. “Turn that down!” You yell, trying to overpower the thunderous noise of his speaker. Your brother’s grin only widens. “What was that?” He asks, his brows knitting together in a play-pretend frown, undeniably enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. But you weren’t going to let him have it, not today. 
With fast and determined strides you march over to the source of your misery. Pulling the thick cord from its component, you breathe out a small sigh of relief as the speaker falls silent. — “Oh come on, don’t be such a mood killer”, Beomgyu whines as he reaches for the cable in your hands, much to no avail as you step back. 
“Yeah, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Another voice carries out from somewhere to your left. Oh great, he was here too. Your glare is redirected from your pesky brother by his desk and over to his even peskier best friend. — Sprawled on Beomgyu’s bed, Taehyun shoots you a smug smirk as he watches the way your face contorts from anger into pure rage. 
There was little to be enjoyed about your brother’s best friend. And by little you mean nothing, the guy didn’t carry a single positive trait. Sometimes you thought he might’ve just been put onto this earth to serve as a plague to others. — Judging by how he made your life a living hell, you guessed it wasn’t far from it. 
Taehyun would come over more than often, it was almost as if he used yours and Beomgyu’s shared apartment as an extended home. Something about his dad being a shit person and him having nowhere else to go since he dropped out of college, at least that’s what your brother said. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. What you did care about was your studies, your peace and most importantly, quiet. 
You didn’t like Taehyun, you didn’t like the way he made your brother act. Sure Beomgyu was an ass most of the time, but it was manageable. Though whenever his best friend was around it was like your brother became a completely different person, an almost unrecognizable one. — Beomgyu was always the first to jump in front of Taehyun, defending his every word and action, all the while his so-called ‘best friend’ couldn’t be bothered to even lift a finger. 
“He’s got a rough time at home, cut him some slack.” Your brother had practically wailed as you had forbidden his friend from ever stepping foot inside your flat again.”I don’t care Beomgyu, he’s an ass. Can’t you see how he treats me?” You huffed as you ran a hand through your hair. But your brother only shook his head, feverishly grabbing onto your arm as he begged for you to reconsider. And unfortunately you did.  
“Come on, it’s only a bit of music”, Taehyun presses, propping himself up on his elbows as he tilts his head to the side ever so menacingly. You scoff in disbelief, gripping the wire tighter between your fingers. “If it’s only ‘a bit of music’ then I’m sure you’ll suffice without it.” Without waiting for them to get another word out, you turn on your heel as you storm out, not bothering to close the door behind you. 
It wasn’t like your hatred toward your brother’s best friend was unbiased. There were plenty of instances in which Taehyun had effectively fucked things up for you. Just thinking about them made your blood boil all over again. — For one, there was the shower incident. 
It had been a Thursday afternoon, your brother was in class but since yours had been canceled the day prior, you took some time to yourself. The apartment was silent, save for your quiet hums as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair, warm water cascading down your bare skin. — You later found out that Beomgyu, that idiot, had given him a spare key, and that’s how he got in. But unbeknownst to you on that fateful Thursday, Taehyun had let himself inside your home. For whatever reason, you had yet to be made aware of. 
Not only was he an annoying piece of shit human being, he was also a fucking perv. Upon turning the shower off, your hands in your hair as you squeeze the remnants of wetness from it, you pull the curtain to the side only to let out an ear-piercing scream as you come face to face with your brother’s best friend. — Taehyun was leaning against the door frame, arms neatly folded across his chest as his gaze roamed your bare body. 
“What the fuck!” You yell, immediately wrapping the drenched shower curtain around yourself as you shouted for him to get out. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes still fixed on your figure, barely shielded from his view. “Get out you freak!” Your words have little effect as Taehyun merely shifts on the spot, “I’m not a freak”, he counters, his brows drawing together in an offended frown. You scoff, “you act like one.” — He shakes his head, “a freak would like what he saw”, his eyes snap back up to your own, “I don’t.” 
Your mouth falls open in bewilderment as you let out a short breath of air. “Well then that solves it, get out.” The corner of his lip twitches, and he chuckles, shaking his head but he still complies; sauntering down the hallway without the decency to even apologize. 
The second incident happened not long after. 
“Where the fuck is my laptop?” You had turned your room upside down in search of the device, frantically going through drawers and getting on all fours to peek under your bed. But it was nowhere to be found. — “Beomgyu I swear to god if you so much as lay a single hand on my shit– …you!” Stopping dead in your tracks, your gaze falls on Taehyun, perched on the sofa in your living room with your laptop in his hands. 
He gives you a small grin, but it was impossible to not catch the mischief lingering in his eyes, “your brother said I could borrow it.” Your mouth opens and closes several times as you try to comprehend the scene before you. “Can’t you use his? — And did you fucking go in my room?” You practically seethe as you point an accusing finger toward him. But Taehyun only shrugs, his attention shifting back to the screen in front of him, “maybe.” 
You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying the things on your mind. It was one thing to be allowed in your home, where he had made himself more than comfortable, but it was a whole other thing to go through someone’s stuff without their knowledge, much less their permission. — And you knew for a fact that Beomgyu hadn’t allowed him to take your computer, ass or not, he had at least some sense. 
When snatching the laptop back, you found that he had managed to install not one but three different viruses. It took you about a week to get rid of them all before you could resume your coursework, and after that, you made sure to hide your stuff well. 
Those were only a few of the many occasions in which you had wanted to snap his neck in half. And as you flop back down against the soft mattress of your bed, discarding the cable somewhere on your floor, you let your eyes shut as you prepare for the very long day ahead. 
You spent the majority of the remaining afternoon cooped up in your room. Immersing yourself in your studies as you sought to block out any indication of Beomgyu and his friend’s presence. It proved very difficult as the pair would yell at one another, the game they played blasting through your small apartment. It seemed like disconnecting just the speaker in Beomgyu’s room served a minor threat to their antics. 
Briefly you considered telling them off once more, but you realized that it would probably only add to the building headache you were already experiencing. Instead you waited them out, Taehyun was bound to leave sooner or later, right? — Wrong. By 8 pm the game was still roaring, loud as ever and you were beginning to lose your last piece of sanity. 
Just as you were about to head out and get a look for yourself, there’s a knock to your door. You don’t know why you had expected it to be his best friend, but you’re relieved when Beomgyu pokes his head through the small opening. “We’re ordering pizza, you want something?” He asks and you hesitate for a moment before nodding, “sure, get me whatever.” Your brother grins before disappearing once more. — Oh well, at the very least the obnoxious sound of their game had died down. 
You think about thirty minutes had passed, thirty minutes of the apartment being basked in a calm silence. It was nice, your mind finally felt clear, but the persistent ache pounding in your head had yet to subside. With lazy feet, you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, from the safety of your room, before venturing down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. 
Your light footsteps seemed to echo off the wooden floor, every small noise making your head flare up in pain. Gripping your temple, you reach for a glass to fill, the pour of water sounded like thunder in your ears. As soon as the pizza arrived, you would head back to your room, eat, and then go straight to bed. With that gameplan in mind, you swallow the small pain killer, chugging half of your glass before setting it down on the counter. 
“What’s that?” 
The voice of Taehyun makes you flinch as you spin around on the spot, catching him by the entryway, a harmless smile on his face. But you knew better, you could see right through him, or so you told yourself. “Where’s Beomgyu?” You ask, clearly on edge as you study him with distrust. — Taehyun shrugs, pushing himself off the door frame as he walks over to the small kitchen island. “He went to get the food.” 
“You didn’t go with him?” It was odd for the two of them to ever be seen without the other, but your brother’s best friend doesn’t seem to mind as he leans against the smooth marble. “No”, he simply states, his gaze falling on your discarded glass. — “You took something”, he then adds, his eyes flitting up to yours. Still wary of the intent behind his question, you frown. “Yeah, painkillers.”  — “Why?” 
His persistent probing both confused and irritated you. “I don’t think that’s got anything to do with you.” Your voice grows snarky, you know he can tell by the way his lips twitch into a small smirk. “Why the sudden apprehension? I’m just making small talk.” He sounds almost defiant as he shifts against the countertop separating you. Sure, but Taehyun had never made small talk for the two years Beomgyu had known him. In all honesty he hadn’t even bothered to learn your name until his fourth visit here. 
“Cut the bullshit, there’s no point in acting coy now.” You snap, grabbing your glass as you empty the remaining water down the sink before setting it down amongst the other dirty plates, you can feel his gaze on you as you do. With your back turned on him, it’s impossible to read the expression on his face, but the smugness in his voice speaks for itself. “I’m not acting. I wanted to talk to you, noona.” Your jaw clenches at the formality, the way he drags the word out, each syllable sickly sweet on his tongue. — You often forgot the fact that Taehyun was a year younger than both you and your brother; a fact he would use to get his way with Beomgyu, but that wouldn’t work on you, not in the slightest. 
“Why, so you could pester me further?” You wonder, turning back to him with a small grimace. He shakes his head, the smirk on his lips growing with each passing second. “Not at all, noona.” — Biting the inside of his cheek, he hesitates, if only for a moment, “this is the only way I could get you alone. Letting him go without me I mean.” 
You were almost certain that the lines on your forehead would become permanent if the frown on your face didn’t ease up soon. “And why would you want to get me alone?” You huff, trying to hide the sheer curiosity behind your snappy voice. Taehyun leans even further across the small island, inching dangerously close to where you’re currently standing. “Isn’t it obvious?” He cocks an eyebrow, letting his head tip to the side as his eyes roam your bitter expression. 
“I think you’re pretty.” 
Alright, that’s it, if Beomgyu doesn’t walk through the door right now you would surely have his best friend killed. Taking a small step back, you shake your head as you try your best not to laugh at the corniness of the situation. “Your jokes have not gotten any funnier”, you mutter, moving to walk around the countertop and head back to your room. In your haste, you fail to notice the frown etching itself onto his otherwise unwavering face as he turns around to follow your figure. 
It’s not until his fingers wrap around your forearm that you freeze. “Taehyun I’m serious–” Just as you’re about to tell him that you’re not in the mood for any more of his sly comments does he interrupt you. “Do you think I’m joking?” He sounds perplexed, and his eyes fervently search yours. You scoff, yanking your arm from his grasp as you fold them across your chest. “Why do you think I stayed behind? I mean, come on.” 
You want to tell him that no matter what comes out of his mouth could make you change your mind, much less your opinion on him. You want to tell him that he’s an annoying piece of shit asshole that’s made your life a living hell for the past two years now, and that you don’t understand what in the world your brother sees in him. But you don’t get the chance to get as much as a word out before Taehyun slams his lips on yours. 
It was sudden, and it felt forced, the way his hands grabbed either side of your face as he locked you in place, backing you up against the nearest wall in the process. Your first thought was that he kissed like a teenage boy, over the top and rough, his tongue pushing inside your mouth with little to no control as your teeth clashed together. Your second thought was, what the fuck is happening and why the fuck is he kissing me? 
Your hands jerk up to his chest, your eyes wide as you let out a strangled noise of surprise. Seemingly ignorant of your stunned reaction, he continues his assault to your lips, messily pulling your bottom one between his teeth, effectively drawing a small yelp from you. 
Taehyun was strong, a lot stronger than you, and it took a whole of three attempts to push him off. You’re both left panting for air, but while Taehyun looks to be in a clouded state, your face has contorted into a scowl. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You spit, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you eye him with disdain. 
He swallows, opening his mouth to say something but before you can hear it, the front door is unlocked, announcing Beomgyu’s return. Your gaze flits between Taehyun’s almost alarmed expression and to the entryway. Immediately seizing your opportunity, you dart out of the kitchen and down the hallway to greet your brother.  
You get there just in time to see Beomgyu kicking his shoes off, balancing three cardboard boxes in his hands. “Here, I’ll help”, you offer as you grab the pizza from his arms. He mutters out a quiet “thanks” before frowning, “what are you doing out here? I thought you’d locked yourself in your room.” — Rolling your eyes you turn back to walk down the hall again, “went to get some water”, you simply state, not waiting for him to catch up, but he does anyway, trailing behind you as he speaks, “where’s Taehyun?” Internally cringing at the mention of his name you shrug, “beats me.” 
Though Taehyun was exactly where you had left him, except now he was leaning against the wall, his usual and indifferent expression plastered on his face. You head straight past him, slamming the boxes down on the kitchen island as you rummage through the cabinets for a couple of plates. “Hey man, everything okay when I was gone?” Your brother wonders to which he merely receives a small nod from his friend, his friend who had his gaze intently fixed on your figure as you moved about the kitchen. 
“It’s getting kind of late”, you say as you pull a bottle of coke from the fridge, discreetly throwing a glance toward the clock on the oven. You prayed and hoped that at least one of them would catch on. Taehyun looks as if he’s about to say something, his lips slightly parted but your brother beats him to it. “Yeah you’re right, I reckon we’ll be done eating by 9.30.” Beomgyu turns to his friend with a small grin, a grin you knew all too well.
“Why don’t you stay over, Tae?” 
Your mouth falls open at the proposal. The completely uncalled for and unthinkable proposal. “I’m sure Taehyun’s dad will want him home..” — “No it’s fine, he couldn’t care less where I am”, the same lips that had been kissing your own not even ten minutes ago curl into a smirk as Taehyun watches you with gleam in his eyes. “I’d be happy to stay.” 
Swallowing the insults waiting on your tongue, you turn grab some glasses, intent on hiding the scowl on your face. The air was unusually thick, sure your brother was used to you and his best friend getting on each other’s nerves but there was something different lingering by the two of you today. And Beomgyu was not late to pick up on it. — “Did something happen when I was gone?” He wonders as he begins pouring soda for your small party. 
Taehyun remains silent as he rests against the wall, his expression near impossible to read. “No, nothing, why would it?” You snap, going through the boxes to find your pizza. “Alright”, he mutters before pointing to the cardboard box that held your food. — Mumbling out a quiet “thanks” you take it before reaching for one of the glasses. “I’ll be eating in my room.”
As you move around the island and head for the hallway once more, you can feel Taehyun’s eyes on you one final time before he falls back into a relaxed conversation with Beomgyu. — Not until the door to your bedroom is safely shut behind you do you breathe out the tension that had built in your body. Whatever Taehyun was playing at… you wouldn’t allow yourself to get pulled into his schemes. 
You stay in your room, listening to the sounds of the TV slowly dying out as your brother and his friend got ready for bed. You had made sure to use the bathroom before them, already clad in your pajamas, you sat on your bed as you waited for the apartment to fall silent. — It might have been just past midnight, or maybe it was even nearing 1 am when your head finally hit the pillow. 
But even though the flat was now being basked in an almost eerie silence, you couldn’t quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind as you tossed and turned on the mattress. Images of Taehyun flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t the usual Taehyun, the pesky one, the snarky and mean one. It was a different Taehyun, a Taehyun you did not recognize. 
You wanted to ask him why he kissed you, you wanted, no needed to hear him say that it was all a joke, a sick prank he was trying to pull. But when your mind so clearly envisions him, part of you thinks it wasn’t. “I think you’re pretty.” What a joke. Two years of pestering you and now he calls you pretty? No that settled it, it had all been a play, just another way for him to tease you. Just like he always did. 
The creak of a floorboard rips you from your overanalysis of the hours prior. Your eyes snap open and you still, holding your breath as you wait for anything to indicate the presence of someone else. “It could’ve been the wind”, you told yourself, or a flicker of your imagination, it was late after all. But the rattle of your door handle is unmistakable. 
You sit up, back pushed against the headboard as you watch the old wood glide open, revealing a shadow on the other side. It’s blurry, shielded by the darkness surrounding it but you can still make out Taehyun’s figure as he slinks inside your room, gently closing the door behind him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Your voice cuts like knives through the silent air, and Taehyun can thank himself lucky that Beomgyu was a heavy sleeper. 
At first he doesn’t say anything, aimlessly shifting by the corner. It’s impossible to make out his expression in the dimness of the night. When he finally speaks his voice is low, not hushed, but low, lacking all sorts of menace it usually held. “I can’t sleep when he’s snoring.” — A petty excuse, there had to be more to it. 
Shifting on the bed, you pull the blanket higher over your chest, suddenly becoming very aware of the thin nightgown you were wearing. “But that’s not why you’re here.” You state, this time in a less aggravated tone. You can hear him let go of a small breath, taking a step forward which illuminates half of his face as moonlight seeps through the cracks of your curtains. “No”, he breathes. 
“I…” He hesitates, you catch his hands balling up into fists for a moment before relaxing again. Then he suddenly grows bold, bolder than you’d ever seen him as he takes yet another couple of steps forward. He reaches the end of your bed and you tense up, eyes narrowing down on his frame. “What do you want, Taehyun?” The doubt and suspicion in your voice is clear as day and you see his jaw clench at your accusing tone. 
He runs a hand through his hair, restlessly shrugging his whole body. “Fucking hell, come on noona, don’t make me say it.” You freeze at the small formality, it still felt unreal, hearing it pass his lips so easily. Just what was going on? “If this is another one of your stupid pranks then I–” 
“It’s not.” He sounds determined, almost stern. The mattress dips as he sits down, immediately scooting closer and you find yourself backing up as far as the headboard would allow you to. It’s easier to make out his features now, the way his brows drew together, how he bit onto the inside of his cheek as his eyes remained on the pillow next to you, unable to meet your gaze. 
“Why did you kiss me?” You had longed to ask the question, your mind practically reeling as it awaited his response. He blinks, once, twice, three times, then he swallows. “I thought if I…If I didn’t do it then…then I might never get the chance to again.” His brows furrow even further and he sounds as if he was at war with himself. “Why, do you mean you’ve been waiting to do this?” 
His once dazed gaze snaps over to you and he lets out a small scoff. “Of course I fucking have but you– your brother, he’s always around, I mean it’s impossible to get you alone and I..” He trails off, his fingers intertwining in the soft duvet as he pulls the silk into his hands, gripping it tightly. “My brother is your best friend.” You remind him, eyeing him with wary eyes as a confused frown etches its way to your face. 
“I know.” He runs his free hand through his hair, seemingly a nervous habit of his. “That’s what makes it so much worse.” — “Makes what worse?” You’re beyond puzzled, trying desperately to piece together the means of his otherwise scattered words. He huffs out a sharp breath, then he grabs your wrist with the same force he had used just hours earlier when he pinned you against the wall in the kitchen. In one swift motion he moves the palm of your hand to rest flat against his crotch, the prominent bulge makes your eyes widen as you try and pull your hand away. “This”, he practically seethes, his grip unwavering as he yanks you closer. 
“It’s torture, being in this house when I know that you’re just a room away.” His face is mere inches from yours and you find yourself at loss for words as you stare back at him. “I can’t even hang out with my best friend without my mind being clouded by his fucking sister.” He spits, letting your wrist go as he withdraws his hand, as if ashamed of his feelings. 
“Then why do you come here? If it’s such torture”, you wonder, rubbing your sore joint between your thumb and index finger. Taehyun looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter as he shakes his head. “Because it’s the only way I can see you, isn’t it?” — “Hell, even now, I’m forced to sneak into your room in the middle of the night to get you alone.” 
He inhales through his nose, his chest rising as he does, “don’t you understand, noona?” Your mouth parts in a thousand unspoken questions, none of which you ask. Slowly, you piece together just why he was here, why he had burst into your bedroom during the darkest hour of night, why he was so desperately sharing things you never thought you would ever hear him utter out loud 
The hesitation only lasts a second, then you find yourself leaning closer, so close that your lips pressed against his. A small peck, that’s all you give him before straightening your back once more. “I think I understand.” Your soft whisper is like a warm caress to his face and without waiting another second, he pulls you back, pressing his mouth against yours with the same urgency he had hours prior. 
You didn’t know what you had expected him to do, but pinning you down against the mattress of your bed was certainly far from it. His large hands cradle your face, his knees sinking into the bed either side of you as he holds you down. — It was wrong, it really was. He was your brother’s best friend, not to mention the fact that he had made your life a living hell these past two years. Were you really going to let one kiss change all of that? Taehyun’s hand caressing the bare skin of your thigh makes you think, yes. You could deal with the consequences tomorrow. 
He was all over you, kissing down your jaw and neck, his hands dipping beneath your nightgown to roam your chest, squeezing your tits before moving down your sides. It was almost as if he didn’t know where to start, too caught up in the fact that the unimaginable was actually happening. — “How long have you liked me?” You’re unable to hide the teasing edge to your voice, but he doesn’t seem to catch on. “F-Fuck since I first saw you”, he groans, yanking down your panties with one harsh tug as his fingers messily circle your clit. 
Letting out a moan of sheer surprise, you arch into his uncoordinated touch. “Then why did you act like such a bitch?” You question, your hands running through his dark hair before giving it a small tug, feeling him shudder against you. “H-ah, didn’t know what else to do..” He grunts, middle finger probing at your throbbing hole before pushing it in, drawing lewd sounds from you as you grip his soft locks tighter. 
“Why, do you get off on making me pissed or something?” Your comment was meant as a mere sarcastic remark, but Taehyun nods against the skin of your neck. “M’jack off to you so much”, he bluntly admits, adding a second finger to your dripping cunt as he does. You scoff, bewildered at just how deep his small crush was rooted, “that’s disgusting.” He only hums against you, thumb pressing down on your clit as he nibbles on your soft flesh. 
“That time in the shower”, he drawls, his lips moving up your throat, reaching your jaw before reconnecting on top of your own. “Can’t get it out of my head”, he groans into your mouth, his hard on pressing against your thigh in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling. “I thought you said you didn't like what you saw.” — He shakes his head, “m’lied”, he mumbles before pushing his tongue inside your mouth. 
“Please, let me have you, I promise I’ll be good from now on, noona.” 
The thought of denying him was sweet, a way to get back for all the shit he’d caused you. But the way your cunt clenched around his fingers made you waver in your decision. Your silence makes him slow down, he pulls back to study you intently, wet lips hovering above yours. — “Fine”, you huff, propping yourself up on your elbows, “do you have a condom?” When he immediately nods as he shuffles through his pockets you wonder just how long he had been thinking about this. 
He reaches for the hem of his pants but you swat his hand away, “give it here.” Gaze flitting from the small package between his fingers and your determined expression, Taehyun complies as he hands you the condom. With practiced habit, you slip a hand down his briefs, fingers wrapping around his leaking cock as you pull it from his sweats. You never thought you’d ever get to see a pretty dick, but it was the only way you could describe it. Flushed and pink, slick with precum as it throbbed in your palm, you clenched at the sight.
He lets out a small noise of pleasure as you give him a few lazy strokes, ripping the plastic packaging open with your teeth in the meantime. “You’ll be good, yeah?” Your question hardly requires an answer but Taehyun eagerly nods, emitting a small yes. The corner of your lip twitches, the sudden change in his demeanor was almost endearing. — He inhales sharply as you slide the condom on, making sure to drag out your movements as you do. 
Upon settling back onto the bed, you shoot his unmoving figure an expectant look. “Well what the fuck are you waiting on?” — Blinking, he immediately springs into action as he moves to hover above you, the tip of his cock pushing against your glistening folds as he lines himself up. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, noona”, he mumbles, gently pushing himself past your tight rim with a small groan. 
“Flattery won’t work on me”, you breathe, fingers reinstalling themselves in his hair as you tug his lips back onto yours. His moans vibrate on your tongue, the tip of his nose nudging your cheek as he presses himself even closer. “I mean it..” — “Shut up.” Your sharp tone makes his cock twitch inside of you and you have to bite back a sly remark. He pulls back, his heavy breath mixing with yours as he picks up a fast and rough pace. The snap of his hips makes the bed squeak beneath you, and you can only hope that Beomgyu was knocked out good in his own room. 
Your hands leave his hair, fingers trailing down his chest before dipping inside the fabric of his shirt. You knew that he was fit, often catching glimpses of his toned arms whenever he’d move about; yet you couldn’t help but marvel at how his broad back felt under the tips of your fingers. — “Noona”, his voice is gruff and his arms either side of you tremble, “m’close.” 
Your nails digging into the skin of his back makes him groan as his pace stutters. “I’m not”, you state, even though you felt your orgasm building in the pits of your stomach, the thought of letting him endure it for just a moment longer was satisfactory in itself. — Your hands move to his shoulders, urging him off as you flip your positions. Hesitantly he complies, leaning back against your soft pillow with a small frown, only for his face to contort into a breathless one as you slid down on his cock once more. 
“Being good from now on doesn’t solve things, does it?” You drawl, moving your hips tantalizingly slow as he writhed beneath you. The new position allowed for him to sink impossibly deeper inside of you, and the stretch of his thick shaft made your jaw slack. “You’ll have to make up for all the past shit you’ve caused me, got it?” He blinks before quickly nodding, large arms finding your waist as he helps you move quicker, rougher, on top of him. 
“I will”, he gasps, hips snapping up to meet yours impatiently. His eyes remained glued on the way your tits bounced with each movement, your perky nipples poking through the thin material of your gown. You felt him grow even harder, the throb of his cock matching that of your cunt, vigorously clenching down on him. He bit his lip, suppressing the sinful sounds on his tongue. “S-Shit noona.” The grip he maintained on your hips was bound to leave marks but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 
One of his hands leaves your waist as he props himself up in an attempt to get closer to you. But he barely makes it halfway before you push him back down. His head hits the mattress with a small thud and he grunts in displeasure as his hand on your hip tugs you closer, making your lips part in a small whine at the wave of pleasure that shot through you. “Fuck, are you tryna wake your brother or something?” He huffs, lips curl into a menacing smirk as his thumb presses against your clit, making you shudder on top of him. 
“Why, I bet you’d love that wouldn’t you?” You scoff, hands moving down his chest as your nails scrape across his skin. He doesn’t answer, his jaw clenching as he jerks up inside of you, the movement followed by a string of hushed profanities. Rolling your eyes, you lean down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, the action has him stilling completely and he groans as he spills inside the condom, the twitch of his cock making you wince as you urged your own orgasm on. 
Your fingers close around his chin, pulling his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. “You’ll be good for your noona from now on, right?” He nods, immediately letting you push your tongue inside his hot mouth. “I will, I will”, he breathes, gasping as he feels your cunt clench around his already overstimulated cock; your high searing through you like never before. You never think you’d come this hard in your entire life, and to think that it was all because of your brother’s best friend. — Your thighs ached, arms burned, but your heart was beating uncontrollably fast as you finally pulled away from the kiss, leaning back to admire Taehyun’s fucked out expression. 
Fuck if only your brother knew what his best friend was up to at night. Seemingly reading your mind, Taehyun clears his throat, his now soft cock remaining inside of you as his hands caress your thigh. “You won’t tell Beomgyu about this?” — A small grin pulls at your lips and you shake your head. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that his best friend prefers his sister.”
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obvi-the-best-soph · 11 days
Text
we're all bound to break. (pt. 1)
alexia putellas masterlist: here requests: here
based on this request: Hey! Got a request for a teen!fic with Barca women’s team (focus on Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid if possible). I’m a sucker for angst so would love an angsty storyline, maybe an injury or off pitch event or something!
word count: 2,375k
summary: your parents pass away 2 weeks before the champions league final, but you don't tell anyone, which of course has knock on effects.
genre: angst/hurt warnings: disordered eating, vomiting, death of parents, swearing, grief, drunk driver/car accident, alcohol, struggling alone, body dysmorphia.
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a/n: this is my first full length fic i'm posting on here, so i hope you enjoy it. sorry if the spanish is bad, i tried lol. would love requests and feedback as this had taken me literally ages. thank youuu :)
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Ever since you were a little kid, 4 or 5, you had wanted to play for Barcelona. Your papá had taken you to nearly every game you could make it to, and you loved it. That was always a special time, just you, and papá, and football. That was how you liked it. You and papá. Of course, you loved your mamí too, more than anything, but she didn’t quite love football just as much as you, but she was always supportive and tried her best to understand. So when the contract came for the first team of Barcelona Femení, you couldn’t put pen to paper fast enough. And suddenly, papá wasn’t just coming to games to watch the team, but to watch his own pequeña princesa (little princess) play.
And you absolutely dominated too. At first, you were just another new signing for Barcelona, a young kid that would probably barely ever play and hardly ever get started, but you quickly squashed those assumptions, scoring a hattrick in your debut game, shocking Camp Nou into near silence. You celebrated every goal by making a heart with your hands over your eyes, looking through the gap, where your papá would be cheering and clapping for you. Everything you did, you did for your papá… sound familiar? Every award you had won was dedicated to him, every goal, every game, similar to your mentor and current roommate, Alexia Putellas. When you signed for Barcelona, you had needed somewhere to stay as you and your family lived just outside the city, and after Alexia had met you, she had immediately offered. So that’s where you lived, in an apartment with Alexia. And occasionally, her girlfriend Olga. 
But Alexia wasn’t the only person you’re close to, Mapi and Ingrid often hosting you for sleepovers on weekend or Friday nights. You loved Mapi, always interested in her tattoos and their stories, or the funny things she’d tell you about Alexia or Ingrid. And Ingrid was great too. 
You loved all the Barca girls really, the second you stepped foot in there, they welcomed, loved and accepted you. Especially Ona, who you had become really close to, and Lucy and Kiera were always funny when you tried to teach them Spanish. Lucy was pretty good, but Kiera could barely make her way through “¿Hola, cómo estás?” (Hello, how are you?) without stuttering or looking around for reassurance. She was teased for it a lot, but it was all in good fun. All in all, you loved it at Barcelona, and now anywhere with that team felt like home. 
This season, you have been killing it. Scoring at least one goal every game, often two. And now, you've made it to the Champions League final. 2 weeks before, you got the most devastating call of your life. 
“Is this Y/N L/N?”
“Si, who is this?”
“Uh hola, this is the Police Department of (your hometown), and we regret to inform you that both of your parents have been involved in a serious car accident, they were hit at high speed by a drunk driver. Unfortunately neither of them have survived the impact.”
The phone slipped from your hands, clattering to the floor. Everything went blurry, the tears clouding your vision, and your knees shook until you found yourself crumpled on the bathroom floor. Thankfully, Alexia and Olga had gone out for dinner that night, so you were home alone, otherwise you would’ve immediately had people at your side, and you couldn’t think of anything worse right now. 
So… what now? No more papá, no more mamí…
You didn’t know what to do. So you just sat on the kitchen floor, and cried. And cried. And cried some more. “Why did it have to be me? Why did it have to be my parents?” you thought, the stages of grief already hitting you hard. 
After another hour and a bit longer of crying, you retreated to your room. You curled up in your bed, staring off into space, thinking about all the little things you didn’t have anymore. No more hugs from mamí, no more of her cooking, no more one on one time with papá, no more childhood home to go back to, no doubt your Tia (aunt) would sell that the second her greedy, money-loving little mitts could, no more papá. No more mamí. The two people that kept your world spinning. 
You decided you weren’t going to tell any of the team about it, not yet. Maybe after the final. There were a few reasons you’d thought of, one; you didn’t want them to pity you and treat you differently, two; you didn’t want to make them worry over you anymore than they already, and three; you just couldn’t bear to actually voice the words. “My mamí and papá are dead.” It was too much, too painful. So, you just stayed silent.
You didn’t get out of bed or leave your room much anymore, unless it was for training or other football stuff. That made Alexia begin to worry, you were always happy, and cheerful and hyper and pestering the others. But now you seemed like a shell of the person you were, which was partly true. You didn’t enjoy life much anymore, you just barely managed to drag yourself out of bed each morning, no breakfast, training, then back home, and back to bed. Spending so much time in bed was something you thought to be ‘lazy’ or ‘slobbish’, although you still couldn’t manage to muster up enough energy or fucks to give to get out of it. So you began skipping meals. Not intentionally per say, but you certainly weren’t trying overly hard to eat either. 
And when you look in the mirror nowadays, in a strange, twisted way, you prefer what you saw. You look older, more mature like the other girls in the team, not the baby-faced 16 year old the public sees you to be. So you make even less effort to eat. You know you should, that an athlete starving themselves was like trying to drive a car on empty, but you simply can’t part with the new reflection you saw, the ‘beautiful’ and ‘mature’ one. 
Finally, the day of the final rolled around, and everyone was extremely hyped. The locker room was buzzing, music blasting, girls dancing around, and the atmosphere generally excited. But all you could feel was the emptiness of your stomach, the pounding in your head from the harsh drum beats of the music, the way the backs of your ankles had large red blisters from how your skin had thinned and now the bone rubbed right against the back of your cleats now, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness, knowing that neither of your parents were in the crowd. So you kept quiet, avoiding conversations unless they were completely necessary, slipping out of the locker room as soon as you had finished changing. 
You were starting today, playing up the front with Alexia. You two had become known for your chemistry on and off the pitch, goal scoring machines on it and best friends off it. Alexia had been insanely worried about you recently, living with you, she had obviously noticed your tendency to stay in bed and skip meals, she’d always push for you to eat, but you always passed it off with a “Sorry, I’m not feeling well, I think I’m just going to go to bed.” “Oh, no, gracias, I’m not hungry.”. 
You jogged onto the pitch behind Alexia, before joining the line facing out to the stadium while the National Anthems played, Alexia had her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and her firm grip and presence felt like it was just about the only thing holding you up in that moment. You refused to look at the place where your parents always sat, not being able to bear the sight of someone else sitting in their seats. 
The first whistle blew, and you played well for the first half, scoring a goal in the 26th minute after Alexia set you up for a header. You didn’t really know how to celebrate it, there was no point in doing your usual celebration, because there was no one to look through your heart hands at. You barely even smiled, letting the team just crowd around you with a group hug type thing before getting back to it. You scored again about 10 minutes into the second half, the equalizer, the score was now 2 all, but once again, you barely celebrated. Running on an empty stomach had meant that the game had drained most of your energy, and you weren’t really in the right frame of mind for playing anyway, stuffed full or starving. 
Now, it was the 89th minute, and still a draw, someone needs to score, and quick. You snapped yourself out of the hazy, barely-there headspace you’d been playing in previously. Now was not time for being floaty and sloppy, now was the time to focus. You yelled at Alexia profusely for the ball, 45 seconds on the clock. She made a shit pass, but you managed to recover it. There were 2 defenders on you, and you were barely past halfway with no support, but a quick glance at the clock and you had made up your mind.
You shot. From halfway out. It was a powerful shot, with the perfect curve and force. You watched as it flew through the air, the stadium silent, but the second the ball hit the back of the net, the noise was near unbearable. 20 seconds to go, you’d scored a hattrick, won Barcelona the final, scored from halfway out, and not even celebrated. 
3-2 to Barcelona.
The final whistle blew. All Barcelona goals had been scored by the 16 year old girl. The 16 year old girl that hadn’t eaten in 2 days, the 16 year old girl that had no family to her name but an aunt that never liked her, the 16 year old girl that had secretly been an orphan for 2 weeks, the 16 year old girl that didn’t even know what to feel anymore. 
This was your dream. Win the Champions League for Barcelona. It’d been your dream for as long as you could remember. But it didn’t mean anything now. Not without papá waving his silly flag from the stands, cheering louder than everyone else in the section, wearing your jersey, waiting with open arms when the sound of the last whistle rang through the stadium. 
You stumbled off the pitch, the exhaustion and lack of fuel to keep your body going hitting you all once. You felt weirdly light, your head spinning and vision blurry, steps uneven, like the ground was moving beneath you, like you weren’t really controlling your body.
Eventually, you got to the locker room, where there was thankfully a few sandwiches and some Powerades laying around from before the game. As much as you really, really, didn’t want to eat them, you knew you couldn’t pass out. Not now anyway. So you swallow the two sandwiches down, washing the bready taste away with the Powerade, trying hard not to think about all the carbs and calories in the meal.
You made your way back out to the pitch. But you didn’t go into the middle to celebrate with the other girls. You just plonked down a little way in from the sideline, just staring out at everything, the crowd, the girls, the losing team, the fans, the losing fans. It wasn’t like you at all. You were always in the action, partying and pestering, but now, you were intentionally avoiding it. You hid away in the dugout when you saw the team looking around for you. Their star player. “The goal scoring machine at 16”, as some fans had nicknamed you.
“Y/N? What are you doing chica? Come celebrate!” Alexia called at you from the sidelines, grinning, a slight confused furrow in her brows. 
Welp, hiding place blown you guess. You sigh and get up, painting a fake smile across your face and letting Alexia wrap her arm around your shoulder as she leads you back to where the rest of the team are, in the middle of the pitch.
“Y/N! Our little superestrella (superstar)!” Mapi yells, excitedly making her way towards you, the rest of the team rushing along behind her, wanting to celebrate you. Attention. The last thing you wanted right now, but you were being smothered in it. 
Eventually, the team retreated from the pitch, and into the locker rooms. That was okay, there was far too much alcohol and drunk women in there for you to be allowed in, being underage still. So you went home. Despite practically winning the Champions League for Barcelona, you just ordered an Uber and took yourself home, flicking Alexia a quick text to tell her you’d left.
You got back to the shared apartment and struggled your way through a shower before crashing into bed, and crying. Bawling. Sobbing. Shaking. At one point, screaming.
Over the past two weeks, you had gone through a lot of the stages of grief, but most recently, anger. 
Why? Why had it had to happen to them? What had they done so wrong that the universe needed to kill them? Why you? Why them? You couldn’t remember your last words to them either, so nowadays any time someone left, you made sure to say a real goodbye. 
You had passed out after around 2 hours of violent crying, having cried so hard at one point you’d had to lean over the bed to be sick in the wastebasket between your nightstand and the mattress. It felt good, as your mamí had always said, better out than in. It also made you feel a tiny bit better about the sandwiches earlier too.
It wasn’t until 10am the next day Alexia stumbled in the front door. She wasn’t drunk anymore, but looked insanely hungover. She cracked the door to your bedroom and looked at you. Really looked at you. 
“Superestrella, we need to talk. There’s something wrong, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”
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a/n: sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger! but i just want to see how well this goes before launching into a second part. feedback would be greatly appreciated, but of course please be kind! 
requests for a part 2 (or any other requests): here
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