#i don't know how but they found me fan fic
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hoshinasblade · 5 hours ago
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you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.
the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.
you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.
because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.
captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.
you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.
"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.
"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.
"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."
you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.
you did not know being known could feel this sweet.
"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.
[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.
also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]
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half-dead-ham · 13 hours ago
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Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 3
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I wanna say this real quick before this gets any deeper. This fic was my first, so I didn't know a whole lot about Batman and the Batfam? I'm not gonna change anything about it cuz growth and progress and shit like that (also I cringe looking at these first few chapters...) but I know a lot more about the DC verse now and I know some of this to be wildly inaccurate or OOC. I'm not apologizing. I just thought you should know ;)
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Galaxies on the brain, Dick wallows in the pain
Sore.
That's all Tim could feel. Sore and tired and heavy and cold. He could feel warm hands (weren't they supposed to be cold?) Holding him by the shoulders and knees. Something soft meets his back and he falls deeper into unconsciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim wakes up with a groan. His arm ached like he'd hung by Dick's trapeze for too long, his face felt itchy, and every time he took a breath his chest burned. His eyelids felt like lead and his head filled with cotton, he absently wondered what day he was on of no sleep when he'd finally collapsed.
As his thoughts swam the contents of the previous night (nights? How long was he asleep for?) Started to bubble to the surface of his consciousness. The stakeout, the full-bodied chill and his missing bug leading to the warehouse, sounds of gunshots and a closeup with a steel grey roof. After that, things get fuzzier. He remembered… Green, and white hair? Then an image of a galaxy came to him and he wondered if maybe he really had died.
Something to his right rustled and he struggled to pry open an eye enough to see. Dick was slumped in a chair next to his bed (when did he get to a bed?) reading over what seemed to be police reports. Tim tried to speak but when he went for air he came up in a coughing fit.
Dick's head snapped to attention as his little brother, now awake, tried to hack up what was left of his lung.
"Hey! Hey, Tim, you're okay. You're in the medbay in the Batcave. Calm down and try not to breathe too deeply okay?" Dick soothed as he reached for the glass of water with a straw Alfred had left for when Tim woke up.
As he watched his little brother get his breathing under control and take a small sip from the cup offered Dick felt his nerves settle for the first time that night. His brother was awake. Awake meant alive. Hurt, but alive. He settled back into his chair and shook out a relieved sigh.
"What are you doing here?" Even with the water Tim's voice sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.
"I said I'd be in Gotham for the weekend, didn't I? I got the call from your comm and picked you up from the warehouse district."
"Call?" Tim's voice cracked with confusion. "I don't remember sending a distress signal…" He trailed off as another hacking cough wracked through his frame. Dick held out the glass again and Tim gratefully took a longer drink.
"… What do you remember from last night?" Dick asked tentatively.
"I remember… the stakeout, my tracker going missing and following the signal to a warehouse by the docks…" Tim gasped, then cringed as the motion sent a jolt of pain down his front.
"I remember the thieves," he ground out. "I'd found their base of operations… but I was sloppy, I didn't notice one of the goons come up behind me until I'd already knocked him over. Then shit hit the fan… I remember making it out, and running, then I guess I got shot? It gets fuzzy from there…" He huffs, shaking the flashing images of white hair and swirling nebulas clear from his sleep addled mind.
He looks over to see Dick with a serious yet contemplative expression, looking down at the bedrest between them and nothing at all.
Curious and weary, Tim mutters a raspy "Why? Something happen?"
Dick seems to mull something over before shaking his head and looking up with a tired smile.
"Nothing serious enough to discuss right now. Why don't you get some more sleep Timmy? God knows you could use it."
Tim wanted to protest, he really did! But the sound of the heart monitor and that strangely familiar buzzing was already restuffing his head with cotton and his eyelids were getting heavier. That feeling of calm and safe washed over him again, sleep quickly following it. He nodded sluggishly and dove back into dreamland with his last thought ringing in his head; 'huh, the buzz sounds more like a purr now.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Danny was not freaking out. He wasn't! He was completely fine with being in the freaking Batcave because he was a hero too. Totally normal.
The sound that wanted to escape his throat was not a squeal. Anyone that told you it was is a liar. 
As he floated through the stalactites (stalagmites? He slept through that particular science class.) He had to physically stop himself from dropping his invisibility and glowing with the force of a neutron star. He was in the Batcave! Tucker and Sam would totally freak over this when he told them. Tucker would have an aneurysm over half the tech he'd seen since getting here (not that he wouldn't already have an aneurysm over him not checking in over the last three days) and Sam would have a field day with the aesthetic of the place. He didn't dare stray too far from his—(not his, no, that's not right) the vigilante he's protecting, which was, in fact, Timothy Drake-Wayne??
He has so many questions.
Like, why was Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprise, going around at night as Red Robin?? Not that he thinks it's wrong, or anything. Danny just feels like that's a lot of stress to have on a teenager's shoulders.
He knows from experience.
The fact that he's also seen Nightwing out of costume, as well as Robin, Orphan, and spoiler with their masks off has Danny feeling like he's seen them practically naked. Because, come on, Damian Wayne was Robin, Orphan was Cassandra Wayne, and Dick Grayson was Nightwing? He'd basically just learned Gotham's richest socialite family all lived double lives as superheroes! If he wasn't already fangirling about being in the Batcave ('the freaking Batcave, ancients end him!') he'd be rolling in his grave laughing and crying from the irony.
Kicking off the nearest stalagmite (stalactite? Still no clue) he floats back down to hover just above the main floor housing the Bat Computer (!!!) with Dick Grayson talking to someone on the other end.
"-have listened to him when he first brought it up a week ago, now he's in a hospital bed! Barbara what am I going to do, I feel like this is all my fault." He watched as Dick (Nightwing? Mr. Grayson?) slumped down in his seat and put his face in his hands. That faraway stare listlessly gazing at the keyboard through slits in his fingers.
Before he could startle the man out of his train of thought the woman from the other end of the call—Barbara, he remembered—spoke up.
"You know you can't blame yourself too badly for that, Dick. While the ribbing may have gone a bit further than you'd have liked, you couldn't have been able to save Tim from getting shot. You were still at least an hour outside the city limits when Tim went to follow the lead his… friend gave him." The way she said 'friend' told Danny she still didn't quite believe in his existence yet, and he was okay with that. As long as Red Robin—Tim?—knew he was there to help, he could let the other members of the batclan think he wasn't real.
A loud groan escapes the older man as he leans back to look at the ceiling of the cave.
"I know Babs," he bemoans, "But I still can't get those thoughts out of my head!" He reached up to message his temples with one hand as silence fills the cave. This time Danny is able to help his friends(?) brothers' turmoil by blowing a bit of frost out and directing it to the back of Dick's hand.
Startled, Dick's head whips around to either side of him, spinning the chair around to face away from the bat computer with a wary gaze before slowly rotating back. He stared at his hand, the one that had previously been nursing his headache and the one that had been covered in frost.
At least, he thought it was.
Dick recalls when Alfred had first pulled off Tim's first aid bandages. He hadn't even changed out of his gear, needing to see the extent of the damage to his little brother, only to watch as green tinged blue ice was revealed to be keeping him together. The ice kept the hole from tearing and bacteria from entering his punctured lung. Alfred shared a look with Dick, confirming that he wasn't the only one seeing the strange ice. As they tried to touch the ice though -get a sample for analysis- it, along with the glove being used as a tourniquet, sublimated away to mist. Leaving the now gaping wound in his brother's side and arm to weep blood, slow and thick.
He left for the showers after that. Better to let a professional patch his brother up than someone with shaking hands and blurry vision.
"Do you think Tim's imaginary friend is a meta?" The words escaped Dick's lips before he'd realized he'd thought them. Refocusing as he heard Babs hum pensively.
"With what you've told me about the magic ice that sealed Tim's wounds, it's possible," she mused. The soft tapping if a keyboard registered on the mic as she pulled something up
"The thing is though, there aren't any registered or rumoured metas with an ice-like powerset in or around Gotham. If there were, we'd be seeing more of them somewhere, ice power sets tend to be flashier." More tapping, then a pained huff came through the speakers.
"It doesn't help that I can't seem to restore Tim's footage from after he fell off the roof," she grumbles.
"What do you mean 'can't restore it'? Even with his mask torn the way it was, the cameras in the lenses should've been working fine."
"That's the thing though! His mask only cut after he fell, it was working perfectly up till that point, then this static whine comes on over the audio and the video glitches out before cutting to static until you find him. It wasn't a signal jammer or EMP, both would do damage to more than just his camera, and a jammer would leave a trace of interference." Her groan echoes through the cave, bringing a small smile to Dick's face as she continues.
"The comm too, if something had tampered with it I'd be able to tell! And yet there's no evidence of tampering and I have a recording of some almost unintelligible mess of a voice talking to us over the main line. Right beside ours that come over with perfect clarity. It just doesn't make sense!"
A chuckle couldn't help but escape Dick's lips as Babs let out a defeated huff on her end. Glancing back towards the medbay he recalled the few times Tim tried to tell him about his patrol companion.
"A snowflake in September," he mumbled pensively, gaze sinking down to his hand again. Then with sudden clarity, he whipped his head up and scanned the Batcave more closely than before, squinting up into the dark corners of the high ceiling.
At one point Danny thought Dick had caught him somehow, the odd cold spot in the area. His shoulders sagged in quiet relief when the vigilantes' eyes swept over where he was floating.
A cold spot in a cold cave isn't odd, after all, and the sensors weren't displaying anything unusual.
Dick glanced back to his hand one more time before turning back to the bat computer and telling Barbara he'd give her an update on Tim's situation in the morning. Saying their 'sleep well's' Danny watched as Dick shut off the giant computer, checked in on Tim one more time then headed to the elevator.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim woke up quicker than he had previously. The smell of breakfast wafted to the medbay even from all the way upstairs and his stomach rolled in hunger. Something cold was sitting over Tim's wound, pressing into it but strangely not hurting him in any way. The cold felt familiar, comfortably cool but not chilling, and he could faintly make out a low hum -purr?- coming from somewhere to his left. He cracked one eye open to see both what was in him and the origin of the purr, when the pressure on his wounds released. The lightness around his shoulder probably meant there was another cold comforting thing there he hadn't noticed before. Prying both eyes open fully he looked around the small patient room and realized the purring had stopped and that he was alone. He wasn't awake enough yet to wonder why that was strange, just happy when he heard the ding of the elevator open.
Someone in the Batcave meant he could get some food, after all.
Dick poked his head into Tim's room a few seconds later, a bowl of what appeared to be Cream of Wheat in his hand. He gave a smile, seeing his little brother awake, and let his body follow his head into the room. Setting the bowl down on a pull out table for Tim, Dick chipperly asked "how are you feeling, Timbo?"
"Like I decided taking Bane one-on-one was a good idea," he groaned. Sitting up enough so he could eat, he watched Dick give a half-hearted chuckle while staring into the mid-distance. Half remembering the conversation he had with his older brother last night while spooning the warm cereal into his mouth, he looked around and sarcastically commented between bites, "sooo, you gonna tell me what was on your mind when I woke up before? Or do I have to figure it out myself?"
The comment startled Dick more than it should have, and as Tim frowned at the reaction Dick turned his head, his gaze sweeping the room before he spoke.
"That imaginary friend of yours," Tim cut his brother off with another groan.
"If you're still going to make fun of me for that-" Dick raised his hand, trying to pacify the conversation before he could finish.
"Don't worry Timmers, I believe you now. I should have believed you when you brought it up the first time and I'm sorry for that."
Tim almost groaned again when he felt the tension drop from his shoulders, jostling his arm. He wiggled in his bed to readjust himself before allowing Dick to continue.
"I was going to ask if you knew anything more about them. They've been following you around for a month, right? Do you know if they pose any risk to you or the family?"
Tim shoved another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth, it was bland, but it gave him something to distract him from the fact that Dick had steamrolled over an actual apology and went straight to business.
Shaking his head as he swallowed his mouth full down, he began.
"While I don't know much other than they can apparently make ice from nothing and make things glow, I can say they don't have any ill intent. They saved me Dick, after I fell from the roof they caught me and… I think they got the guys chasing me off my back."
He ignored the images of a black-clad white-haired figure flitting through his mind with another mouth full of cereal.
Dick sighed, none of the bats liked not knowing things about what's happening to them, but the fact that the entity following Tim saved him from a bad fall released some tension from the older birds shoulders.
"So you don't think it would do anything to hurt you? I need to make sure, Tim."
They both shivered as a sudden chill filled the room. Pretending not to notice Tim answered, "no, I don't think the thing that's been following me on patrols, helping me with cases, protecting me for a month would hurt me now after all this time."
Was it weird Tim thought that so surely? A little bit. But with the way the room warmed up just as quickly as it cooled had him realising that maybe he and his brother weren't the only ones in the room. Now that he focused, he could feel the quiet cold sitting behind him.
It had never followed him to the cave before.
'Shit.'
The implications of something potentially dangerous being able to make its way into the Batcave, a heavily protected and monitored fortress of a hideout had Tim shivering for a different reason. If B ever found out, he'd have Tim's neck.
He also realized he could hear the thing purring again. 'Like a big cat,' the thought made him huff a laugh, it certainly did seem like he'd taken in a stray, an invisible, cold, possibly monstrous stray, but a stray nonetheless. The purr grew louder to Tim following his laugh and that same feeling of safety washed over him again, like a blanket.
Tim turned around—really just craned his neck, he couldn't really move otherwise—to try to pinpoint where the purr was coming from exactly, but when he faced away from Dick the comfortable noise stopped dead. The feeling of safety stopped with it, making Tim wonder darkly if the creature was intentionally making Tim think it was safe to gain his trust. He pushed that thought away as soon as it came, if it did intend to hurt him, it would be Tim's fault for trusting it.
Turning back around he found Dick watching him. Mumbling a weak and slightly annoyed "what?" He shovelled another spoonful of the now room temperature cereal.
Dick shook his head. 'So the thing following Tim really did come back to the cave with us,' it didn't bode well for them to have a potentially dangerous sentient creature of unknown origin in the cave, but if his brother thought so highly of the thing, he supposed he could let it stay his secret for now. Dodging the question he drawled, "you know, there isn't any footage on your feed from after you slid off that roof."
The "what?" That came from his brother this time sounded less annoyed and more confused, so he counted that as a win.
"That doesn't make sense, my mask wasn't that badly damaged in my escape, or the display would have told me." He watched his brother's brow furrow in thought.
"Yeah, Babs is pulling her hair out because of it. Apparently after you go over this whine comes over the audio and both cut to static until I find you."
The faces his brother was making would be funny if he weren't so curious about it. Seeing his expression finally land on clarity Dick urged "you know what happened?"
"I think I do," Tim admitted. "I heard a buzzing… it didn't have any source that I can remember, so maybe that's what caused it?"
"A buzzing? That could be it, I didn't hear anything when I found you, so it lines up for when the feed comes back."
Noticing the bowl in front of Tim is now, in fact, empty, Dick figures that maybe now should be where he cuts the conversation. The voice over the comms can be addressed once his brother's gotten some more rest. He stands, takes the bowl from the table and turns to leave when he hears Tim mutter a quiet "wait."
Dick stops paces from the door and turns to face his brother. Tim seems to fight with himself for a moment before he ground out "thanks for believing me, finally."
He doesn't look up to see his older brother's reaction, but the smile could be heard in his voice.
"Of course, Tim, I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner." With that said, he walks out feeling lighter, and yet with more questions than when he walked in.
Danny watches as Tim sinks into his bed, mindful of his injuries. The bats know about him, with that fact alone he should be leaving, yet even now his core urged him to stay and protect. 
He knows staying is only going to lead to trouble.
He doesn't want to leave.
Leaving means going back to that rundown dump of a townhouse he's been squatting in for the last three months, doing odd jobs around town during the day just to get a bit to eat (not that he needed to eat much with all the ambient ectoplasm in the air) and going back to looking over his shoulder for the GIW or, ancients forbid, his parents.
A soft "hey" breaks him out of his anxious thoughts, and looking over he sees Tim looking in his general direction. The goosebumps on his unbandaged arm tell Danny that he may have made the temperature dip again, unintentionally this time, and he makes a conscious effort to raise it back up to a more comfortable level.
"I know you're there." The sudden admittance made him jump, but Tim continued on, "I know what I saw last night was you. You saved me and I wanted to thank you. Not just for the save, but also the lead on the ghost thieves. For whatever reason you're reluctant to show yourself, and knowing some of my family you have every right to be, but maybe some sign you aren't just some hallucination or actual imaginary thing would be nice? I kinda feel like I'm talking to an actual ghost here." The last bit came out with a chuckle on both ends, Tim for how crazy he feels talking to an empty room and Danny for just how close Tim got with that quip.
Another internal struggle for Danny, oh joy. Revealing himself would be bad, but maybe something small? Tim already knows he makes ice to some capacity, and he's asking so nicely, Danny thought it wouldn't hurt, right?
On the table in front of Tim, where his bland breakfast previously rested a small statuette slowly materialized from condensing mist. Tim watched as the small mound of green tinged ice formed a base, then on nearly invisible supports a nebulous disk spread out. An icy galaxy sat before Tim, about as big as his hand, and it moved. Even after finishing its creation, the edges twisted and swirled in a continuous dance. He could see glittering stars and fluctuating nebulas as tiny clouds of glittering snow.
It was mesmerizing.
Reaching out to touch it, Tim was surprised at how solid it was. It was like touching compacted sand, if they had stuck the sand in an ice box overnight. Ever so gingerly he took the galaxy off its supports and cupped it in his hand. Despite it being made of ice entirely it gave off a strange warmth. It reminded Tim of holding a warm cup of coffee and relaxing with his family. He had to remind himself to breathe as he put the statuette back on its pedestal. The warmth lingered on his palm as he again searched for the cold spot.
It was right in front of him, and he could tell it was watching his reaction. Carefully, he reached out, like he'd done before on that night he'd decided to befriend the strange creature. Unlike before though, his fingers brushed against something. Fabric, he could feel it but there was still nothing to see. His hand slid down what must have been an arm before feeling a fisted hand just over the bed near his thigh. It was tense, and as the cold familiarity of the hand he was holding set in he realized the being sitting on the bed in front of him was afraid. He could feel the quiet anxiety coming off in cold waves, and he had to wonder what it was afraid of.
Tim shifted for better balance and the hand underneath his flinched. Was it… was it afraid of Tim? Afraid of what Tim would do if he knew it was real? That both did and didn't make sense. The being in front of Tim was powerful, he had no doubt it could level all of Gotham if it wanted to, and none of the bats would be able to stop it (not for lack of trying, of course) and yet it was afraid of Tim. Tim, the guys that practically lived off coffee and 5-hour energies, Tim the one that accidentally falls asleep at the batcomputer so regularly Alfred had a specific blanket tucked away just for him. That Tim.
The hand below his flexed again and he realized it must be waiting on an answer. With what he hoped was a reassuring pat to the back of the gloved hand before him, he smiled and snickered, "now, was that so hard?"
The fact that while the hand hadn't moved, the waves of anxious cold he felt warmed up had Tim cheer a silent victory. Trying to look in the direction of where the beings head could be, he continued.
"I get it if you don't wanna show yourself, I really do, but maybe you could keep me company? I probably got six to eight weeks laying in this bed, and I don't know about you, but I'll probably die of boredom before that's up." He chuckles, and going off of the way he feels the hand underneath him bounce, he guessed the thing in front of him does too.
"So yeah, you're welcome to stay, if you want. Maybe help me pull a prank or two, and I know that no matter what you are, you're going to love Alfred's cooking."
Well shit, Danny basically just got the go ahead to haunt the Wayne family, by one of the Waynes. He feels like he should be honoured? Sure the fact he doesn't want to go back to living in that stupid townhouse is another driving factor, but having a friend that doesn't mind his ghosty bits outside of Sam and Tucker sounds really appealing. It doesn't help that he's been really lonely.
Tim feels the hand slide out from under his. Before he can marvel at the fact they did it without making any sound, or mourn the loss of the comforting cold he watches as the galaxy statuette lifts off its base. The statuette hovers above the table for a few moments, then raises and dips repeatedly, straight up and down. Tim laughs at what could only be described as the floating statue nodding at him, before being set down on its base.
"Well I guess that settles it then," he laughs, "if you're going to be around more often, I'll need something to call you though." The room temperature takes a dive, not as cold as before, but still noticeable.
"Okay, I'm going to guess you either don't have a name, "the room temp doesn't change " or have a name but can't or don't want to say it." The room slowly warms up at that. So it has a name but can't use it. Tim can work with that.
"Well, how about I give you a name until you can tell me your real one? I'm not as good as Damian in naming things but I'm sure I can think of something." A hum heard and Tim begins to think of what he could call his new friend. Remembering the white hair he saw the night before and what was probably the same figure as a nebula had his eyes wandering to the statuette sitting prettily before him. So the being either likes space or space themed things (did it come from space? An actual alien? Just another thing to think about.) Trying to recall the knowledge he gained from the few times he's gone stargazing, a name pops into Tim's head that makes him want to laugh.
"How do you like the name Arcturus? If I remember right it's one of the brightest stars and it looks white when you see it in the sky."
The reaction he gets is instantaneous, a loud purr reverberates throughout the small room and this time Tim does laugh.
"I suppose that's as good of a 'yes' as I'll get. Good to finally meet you Arcturus." He holds out a hand before realizing that a handshake probably wasn't going to happen. Before he could take his hand back he felt the hand he was holding previously snake into his and grip it gently. He smiled and shook it, absently noting the claws he could feel poking at the back of his hand.
"I feel like this will be the start of a beautiful friendship," he grins.
A puff of frost in his face has him snort and grin in the direction of his new friend.
Yeah, this'll be interesting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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necrotic-nephilim · 4 months ago
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Sorry if this might be a rude question but why don’t you just make a seperate account for your nsfw fics?
not rude, it's a valid question! tbh it's a combination of a couple reasons.
i started posting anonymous dead dove batcest fics long before i had the balls to make a tumblr. at first i was content to just leave them unassociated with each other because i didn't really care about them being tied to me. i made this blog to actually show solidarity to my partner who wanted to make a sideblog for Sandman comic stuff so we could cheerlead each other and be brave together, since i've wanted to make a batcest sideblog but i've been nervous about actually having to get it going. (mal ik you're reading this go be brave and actually make your blog so i can cheerlead you damnit-) only did it dawn on me then that i should probably mention the fics i've written on the blog after like, three of them were posted anonymously. and it would've annoyed me to have half of them anonymous and half of them not, because notifications for them would've gone in different places. i could go back and take my fics off anon if i wanted to, but i can't switch the account they're on without taking them down entirely and that'd fuck over people who have them bookmarked already.
which, ties into my second reason, if i made an entire second ao3 account it'd be harder for me to see notifications, reply to stuff, and post things for both accounts because i'd have to constantly switch. and honestly i'd be terrified of accidentally posting on the wrong one on a brain fog day. posting fics is always the most tedious part of writing them for me lol. it's easier for me to stay logged into one account and have all of my stuff in one place for me and just use the anonymous collection when i feel like it. if ao3 pseuds worked like tumblr blogs, where you can't see all my side blogs but i can, i would've used pseuds, but since you can see all pseuds on an ao3, i felt it was a moot point.
and the last reason is i just feel more comfortable being anonymous on ao3 because of the rise in anti culture. on tumblr it's very easy for me to just filter that out and find the people i want to follow and block the people i don't. i don't mind getting hate, on tumblr or on ao3. but i think, for whatever reason you want to blame it on, there's been a massive boom of antis on ao3 who are very entitled about how they read on ao3. i tag extensively, but i just feel safer from getting targeted attacks if everything i write on ao3 isn't attached to one profile. if people like a fic i wrote, want to find more i always link my tumblr in the notes, but if an anti wants to get huffy with me, they can't easily track down my other things. they definitely could if they wanted to, but being anonymous on ao3 just makes me feel more secluded, in a weird way. it's like saying "if you want you can come find me but on here i'm just a weird faceless guy throwing stuff in the void". i've used ao3's anon feature a lot, actually, i used to be a hydra trash party dumpster kid back when that was in it's prime.
i also used to be vaguely popular on a different tumblr blog and my main ao3 and while i think it'd definitely be cool if i got a decent chunk of followers on this blog too, i don't really miss having fanfiction do so well i got targetted hate on all of my fics from the same people, i had my fics stolen, etc. it was really exhausting for me. i have 120+ works on ao3, not counting what's anonymous, and that level of exposure tires me, even when i use my main ao3 to post things that aren't trashy. it's just a weird feeling knowing so many people are subscribed to you on ao3 and what if you post something they won't like because you jumped fandoms again, or you're posting something niche, or you don't think it fills enough fandom tropes to be well-liked. i used to obsessively think like that, and it made me not write the things i wanted to because i cared about numbers. and i don't want to slide back into that hole. writing on anonymous is mostly to remind myself i wrote this for me, and if other people like it, they can come find me, but i don't have to perform like that anymore. if i get a really weird fucked up idea, i can write the really weird fucked up idea. at the end of the day, just makes me more comfortable! but i get it's a super confusing set up from an outsider perspective so, i really don't mind the question, thank you for asking!!
#necrotic festerings#batcest#pro ship#necrotic answerings#tbh asking the question gave me the chance to explain it so ty!#might link this in my about me or my masterlist for ease of access#i don't want to like. overstate how big i was on an old blog bc i was not like. a celebrity by *any* means.#but i had a ship-specific blog and i was certainly a “big name fan” for that specific rarepair#and it like. took over my life when i was a teen#i look back on it fondly now but i really regret that i would obsess so heavily over numbers and what made a fic do well#my favorite fics to write were htp back then bc for htp culture writing on anon was normal since that was during the dreamwidth days#and i just. liked that veil of anonymity and i think i defaulted to that when i decided to finally start posting batcest stuff#(all of this makes me sound so old i'm only 22 i just started fandom really fucking young which i don't recommend)#and when i say one fic got big. i mean it. i have found that fic on instagram and pinterest and tiktok and even. facebook.#do you know what it's like when your fic gets reuploaded to facebook without your permission and you see what boomers think of it.#that was so mortifying.#funnily enough the boomers were actually really nice i was just shocked to find it there scrolling one day.#it was instagram that was super mean to me and traumatized my ass. man ppl dug into me for the tinest things. do not miss that.#anyway the point is#i've tasted vitality and niche fandom status(tm) and i hated both. and i just cannot do that to myself again#ergo#anon on ao3 and a blog to post my thoughts when i have them.#it's a nice system for me#i have some stuff on my main ao3 that toes the line of like. dark dead dove trash.#and i had antis get mad at me bc their fave fluffy fic was written by. gasp. a proshipper.#and yeah that soured me to existence on ao3.#getting into the rise of anti culture is a whole other discussion that'd have me going on for hours but i will shut up now.#wow this got long. i like to fucking talk don't i.
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joyfuladorable · 1 year ago
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< Prev Doodles | First Set of Doodles
Surprise, @redstringraven!! Guess who watched a playthrough of Horizon Forbidden West AND the DLC Burning Shores and Then proceeded to reread Pretend that I Never Left and draw Four More DOODLE PAGES!!!! To all the 2k3 Mikey fans out there, this is the fic for you!
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nightrae13 · 15 days ago
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ATTENTION TO ALL ADRIZOE/CHATSPERIA shippers, I found the best fic of them.
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Honeybee by CoolCat
After feeling left aside by Ladybug, Chat is surprised to have a new partner for patrols. Lots of talking ensues, and a newfound companionship is born. AKA the Chat Noir/Vesperia fic the fandom low-key knows they need but wont admit to it.
many adjectives could be used from Paris' press to describe Chat: brave, funny, flirty, a Casanova, screw-up, dumb. However, she noticed that all of them failed to mention this sweet dorkyness and unwavering hopeful eyes that he was showing right now, and she suddenly understood why Ladybug wanted him around even with his flaws. It was endearing, really, and she suddenly felt way more at ease at being there with him.
This fan art is also on Instagram, and I'll highly appreciate it if you support me there too :)
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pondslime · 1 year ago
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Ok stupid question but I had to ask BC I love the way you answer things haha 💓💓 (Sorry if that was worded weirdly)
So Jonesy (I think that's the dog's name in House of Wax) from all the Sinclair brothers who do you Jonesy likes the most and who do you think likes Jonesy the best?
it's not weird at all!! now that my HOW brainworms are back, any excuse to ramble incoherently about this dumbass movie and the characters is like. PURE gold. lmao 💀
okay, so imo, vinny is definitely the favorite. the first place where we see jonesy in the movie is in the wax museum and that is def not a coincidence!! they were hanging out!! jonesy just got bored of watching her dad labor over the fine details of the wax titty & wandered upstairs.
they're best friends!! I just know it!! that shot where vincent's turning wade to wax? and jonesy jumps up on the bed? the CUTEST. rip wade 🙏 but?? I adore that sm.
and he takes the puppy w/him when he goes to murder blake & paige. unhinged dog dad behavior if I've ever seen it. I can 100% see them both quietly coexisting in the same space together for hours on end—vincent sculpting and sketching, jonesy napping next to him. padding upstairs in the middle of the night to have a midnight snack. UGH
I v much also subscribe to the line of thinking that lester doesn't live in corpsetown & has a lil shack of his own in the woods. but he absolutely hustles up to the house routinely to bring jonesy weird roadkill snacks and play w/her in the backyard. if anyone in the family is committed to getting her energy out, it's v much him. they're just outside for hours n hours tossing a mangled deer leg around and kicking up dirt. I feel.
as for bo. well. he v much strikes me as the kind of guy who pretends to be fairly ambivalent about the fact they have a dog running around. if jonesy ever stirs up trouble or chews thru smthn, he's the first one to be like, "UH??? it's your fuckin' dog?? I ain't never ask for this??"
v much onery dad energy. he catches vincent giving jonesy some food off his plate and immediately starts talking about how he's spoiling the damn dog and THIS is why she knocked over the garbage can & got coffee grounds and eggshells all over the kitchen floor.
never mind that he's always giving her scraps of whatever random concoction he's eating. she's chowing down on eggo waffles and beef jerky and hostess snacks whenever he's around. but no, it's vincent who spoils her. sure, jan.
he wants a huntin and fishin dog, but he's not much of a hunter or a fisher. so he gets a couch potato that sits next to him while he drinks beer and rewatches old spaghetti westerns. and he totally doesn't care about it or like her. totally.
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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still a little bitch - cs55
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summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz don’t hate each other anymore, but she still calls him a little bitch. PART ONE word count: 9.1k + social media posts
folkie radio: HERE IT IS !!!! THE LONG AWAITED PART TWO OF LITTLE BITCH!!! i’m going to be completely honest with you i’m beyond terrified of posting this. little bitch was overwhelmingly liked by all of you and i’m scared this won’t live up to it 😭 but i really really hope you like it. i’m not a fan of doing part two’s of fics but this one deserves it <33 buckle up for a ride or angst, some tears and a lot of little bitch calling. LOVE YOU ALL
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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ynpiastri highlight of imola: LEO LECLERC
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc
view all 3,998 comments
username1 OMG LEO IS SO CUTE
username2 MISS THE SECOND PICTURE ???
username3 PIASTRI SIS HAS A BF?? OMG
alexandrasaintmleux My boy 😍😍
username4 what is carlos doing in the likes i thought they hated each other 😭
username5 HOW DOES OSCAR FEEL ABOUT HER BF I NEED TO KNOW
username6 not tagging the person in the second pic she’s such a piastri
landonorris You’re not slick at all my friend
↳ ynpiastri i literally never asked for your opinion
↳ username1 HEEELP
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If someone had told you a year ago that you would be making out with Carlos Sainz in his driver's room hours before the Monaco Grand Prix, you would've laughed in their faces and told them they were completely out of their mind.
Because why would you ever think of even breathing near the little bitch, right?
And yet, there you were. Your bodies pressed together as his lips explored your neck.
"Carlos," you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair, "we shouldn't... someone could come in..."
He lifted his head, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. "Do you want me to stop, hermosa?"
"No," you admitted, "I don't want you to stop."
A satisfied smile played on his lips before he pressed them against yours again. His hands caressed your hips, pulling you even closer.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered against your lips.
You couldn't help but smile. "The feeling's mutual, you little bitch."
He chuckled softly before speaking, "And to think that you hated me."
"I still do," you replied, but your tone lacked conviction. "It's just… I hate you a little less when you do that."
His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shiver.
"Oh yeah?" he murmured, his hot breath against your skin. "And this?"
You let out a small moan, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders. "Maybe I hate you even less now."
He laughed softly, his hands sliding under your t-shirt. "You definitely don't hate me."
Almost a month had passed since that night in Carlos' car, and things between you two were amazing. You hadn't put a label on what you were yet, but you felt happier than ever.
You found yourselves seeking each other out more and more. But it wasn't just about the physical attraction or the tension of your bickering anymore. You discovered a side of Carlos you'd never seen before – his warmth, his humor, his vulnerability.
And you finally let your guard down and let him see that part of you, too.
The sarcastic remarks and playful insults were still there, but now they were tinged with affection rather than malice. Your friends had started to notice the change in your dynamic, especially Lando, who couldn't quite hide his knowing smirk whenever he saw you two together.
However, you decided to play it cool, not letting your friends know that there was something more between you and Carlos. They might be able to tell by now, but you still didn't want to admit it to them.
Which lead to secret rendezvous in hidden corners of the paddock become frequent occurrences. Like right now.
"As much as I'm enjoying this," you said as his lips still lingered on your neck and his hands roamed underneath your shirt, "I should go, someone's probably coming to get you shortly."
Carlos let out a soft groan of but nodded, slowly pulling away from you.
"You're right," he admitted, his hands reluctantly leaving your skin. "I wish we could stay like this, though. "
"I know," you smiled, reaching up to smooth his tousled hair. "But we can't risk getting caught, especially not today."
He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Tonight, then? After the race?"
"Assuming you don't crash into a wall, sure," you teased.
"Such faith in me," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll show you, hermosa. Watch me on that podium."
You were about to retort when a sharp knock on the door made you both freeze.
"Carlos? Five minutes until the briefing," came a voice from outside.
"Coming!" Carlos called back, "Looks like our time's up."
"I'll sneak out after you. Good luck out there, little bitch," you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
"Gracias, mi amor," he murmured, the endearment slipping out naturally.
You paused for a moment, surprised by the warm feeling that spread through your chest at his words. But there was no time to dwell on it. With a final kiss on your lips, he was out of the room.
Your heart was pounding as you tried to casually make your way out of Carlos' room. You were so focused on appearing nonchalant that you almost walked right into Charles.
"YN?" he said, his eyebrows raised in surprise and a knowing smirk slowly spreading across his face. "What are you doing here?"
You felt your cheeks flush as you scrambled for an explanation. "Oh, Charles! Hi! I was just… uh… coming to wish you good luck on the race."
"In Carlos' room?" his smirk widened.
Your heart sank. Of course he'd noticed where you'd come from. You tried to keep your voice steady as you replied, "No, no… I just got a bit turned around. All these corridors look the same, you know?"
"Uh-huh," Charles said, clearly not buying it for a second. "Well, thanks for the good luck wishes. Though I'm not sure how sincere they are if you're sneaking out of my teammate's room."
You opened your mouth to protest, but the knowing look in Charles' eyes made you realize it was pointless. He'd figured it out.
You were surprised Alex haven't told him already, anyway.
"Relax, YN. Your secret's safe with me," he said with a wink. "Though you might want to fix your hair before you see your brother. It's a bit… disheveled."
You groaned, quickly running your fingers through your hair as Charles walked away, still chuckling. You tried to make the flush on your cheeks go away as you reached McLaren hospitality.
Carlos Sainz was driving you crazy in the best possible way.
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ynpiastri LECLERCCCCCC FINALLY WON AND PERFECT PODIUM TYSM MONACO 😩😩😭
tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lilyzneimer
view all 4,017 comments
username1 I NEVER SAID ANYTHING BAD ABOUT THE MONACO GP
username2 her friendship with charles is so underrated love them
landonorris I wish my best friend celebrated my podiums like that
↳ ynpiastri i wish my best friend got more podiums to celebrate
↳ username1 HELPPP 😭
username3 UM HELLO??? posted sainz, TAGGED HIM, said it’s a perfect podium and she’s not coming for his neck for the touch with oscar on track that made the race re start ????? WHAT IS GOING ON
↳ username2 OH I SEE
charles_leclerc Thank you for coming to Ferrari just to wish me good luck and not anything else, that was definitely what made me win 😉
↳ ynpiastri stfu
↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂
↳ oscarpiastri I’m really confused right now
carlossainz55 ❤️
↳ username1 BITCH WTF
↳ username2 ENEMIES TO LOVERS ???
TWITTER
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The party at Jimmy'z was in full swing, the air electric with the excitement of Charles' Grand Prix victory. The club was packed with F1 drivers, team personnel, and celebrities, all riding the high of the race day adrenaline.
You stood near the bar, your fourth glass of champagne in hand, feeling pleasantly buzzed. The room spun slightly as you looked around, your gaze inevitably drawn to Carlos. He was across the room, laughing with Pierre and Charles, but his eyes kept finding you in the crowd.
Every time your eyes met, you felt a jolt of electricity. The memory of his touch from earlier in the day lingered on your skin, making you crave more. You watched as he excused himself from his conversation and made his way toward you, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace.
"Enjoying the party, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close.
You shivered at his proximity, the scent of his cologne making your head spin even more. "It's alright," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Could be better though."
Carlos's eyes darkened at your words. He glanced around quickly before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing your ear. "Meet me outside in five minutes."
Before you could respond, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. Your heart raced as you waited, trying not to watch the clock too obviously. When five minutes had passed, you made your way outside, your steps slightly unsteady.
The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy club. You spotted Carlos in one of the alleyways behind Jimmy'z. He turned as you approached, a smile spreading across his face.
"Remember the last time we were here?" he asked, pulling you close.
You giggled, the alcohol making you bold. "Yeah, when you kissed me unprovoked."
"Unprovoked?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, his hands settling on your waist. "I was being provoked by how insanely gorgeous you looked. Still do, by the way," he leaned even closer. "And if I recall correctly, you enjoyed it a lot."
"Maybe I did," you giggled, drunkenness clear in your every move. "Should we do it again?"
Without overthinking, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a bold, impulsive kiss. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then you felt Carlos smile against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.
As the kiss intensified, you felt Carlos's hands slide from your waist to your lower back, pressing you even closer against him. The heat of his body contrasted with the cool night air, sending shivers down your spine. Your own hands moved up to tangle in his hair, earning a low groan from him that you felt more than heard.
Breaking apart for air, Carlos rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in quick pants. "I'm crazy about you, Piastri," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.
You were so lost in the moment that you didn't hear the footsteps of someone approaching.
"You freaking muppets! I knew it!"
You broke apart, startled, to see Lando standing there, a triumphant grin on his face.
"Lando!" you whined, burying your face in Carlos's chest. "Leave us alone!"
Carlos chuckled, his arms still around you. "How long have you known, cabron?"
"Please, you two are about as subtle as a neon sign," Lando smirked, crossing his arms. "Oh, this is too good. You two are so busted."
"Lando, please," Carlos started, but you cut him off.
"Go away, Lando!" you whined, clinging to Carlos. "We're busy."
Lando laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you lovebirds alone. But we're definitely talking about this later!"
As Lando walked away, you turned back to Carlos, wrapping your arms around his neck, suddenly feeling very tired and more than a little drunk. "Take me home?" you asked, your words slurring slightly.
"Of course, mi amor," Carlos nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll drive you to Oscar's."
"Nooo," you whined, clinging to him. "I want to stay with you tonight. Please?"
Carlos hesitated for a moment, clearly torn. "YN, you're pretty drunk. Are you sure that's a good idea?"
You nodded vigorously, then immediately regretted it as the world spun. "I'm sure. I just want to be with you. Please?"
"Alright, alright, you win. Let’s get you back to my place," he said gently, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.
You beamed at him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, little bitch."
The night might have been a blur, but one thing was crystal clear—you were falling hard for Carlos Sainz, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
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ynpiastri have you guys ever tried hangover pancakes ?
view all 4,173 comments
username1 OMG???
username2 SHE DOES HAVE A BF
lilyzneimer 👀👀👀
username3 BITCH THATS CARLOS SAINZ
↳ username1 nah there’s no way, they hate each other
charles_leclerc I did before you did
↳ ynpiastri don’t be jealous charlie 😚
landonorris BUSTED BUSTED
↳ ynpiastri bro get over it
↳ landonorris never
↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN
username4 people saying this is carlos sainz, do you guys not know their history or something
↳ username5 yeah but enemies to lovers is a real thing
oscarpiastri 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
↳ ynpiastri ily can you pick me up?
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You could practically hear your friend's and brother's laugh through the phone as you muted the conversation. Shaking your head, you grabbed your jacket and headed out to meet Carlos.
He was waiting for you outside, leaning against a lamppost with casual smile. The sight of him - dressed in jeans and a simple t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled by the breeze - made your heart skip a beat.
"There you are," he said, his face lighting up as you approached. "Ready to go?"
Without thinking twice about it, you wrapped your arms his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss, taking him by surprise. Carlos' eyes widened but he quickly melted into it, his arms wrapping around your waist. When you finally pulled away, he was looking at you with a mix of delight and wonder.
"Well," he said, a bit breathlessly, "that's quite a hello. What was that for?"
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the blush creeping up your cheeks. "Do I need a reason to kiss you?"
"No, hermosa," he said, pulling you closer. "You never need a reason. You're allowed to kiss me whenever you want."
With a playful glint in your eye. You pulled him in and kissed him again.
God you were down bad, it's embarrassing.
"Dios mio," he murmured as you pulled away, "I could get used to this."
You laughed, linking your arm with his as you started walking. "Don't get too comfortable, little bitch. I still have a reputation to maintain."
Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Of course, Piastri. Whatever you say."
As you strolled through the streets of Montreal, you found yourself initiating more little touches - a squeeze of his hand, a kiss on the cheek, leaning into him as you walked. Each time, you noticed how Carlos's face would light up, how he'd pull you a little closer.
It occurred to you that maybe he'd been holding back, worried about pushing you too far or too fast.
For the past month, you'd been letting your guard down, bit by bit. Carlos had somehow managed to sneak past your defenses with his charm and the warmth that had been hidden beneath all that banter. You'd always prided yourself on being independent, on not letting anyone get too close. But with Carlos, things felt different, at least now they did.
Still, there were moments when doubt crept in, when old insecurities bubbled to the surface. What if this was all just a fling for him? What if you were reading too much into the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to treasure every kiss and touch? What if you eventually went back to your bitterness towards each other?
You hadn't put a label on whatever this was between you, and the ambiguity sometimes left you feeling unsteady, as if you were walking on a tightrope without a safety net.
But bringing it up to him felt intimidating.
"Whats on your mind?" Carlos asked once he noticed that you went quiet and your eyes were wandering.
You considered bringing up the subject, but decided to ignore the thought for now.
"Nothing," you replied with a small smile, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking about how Lando is going to have our heads for not wanting to hang out with him."
Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "Lando will survive. He can’t have us all to himself all the time."
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As the Spanish Grand Prix weekend approached, you found yourself in Barcelona, exploring the city with Carlos in a way you never imagined possible.
The man who once irritated you beyond belief was now showing you his childhood spots, sharing stories of his youth with a boyish enthusiasm that made your heart flutter.
When you told Oscar about your plans to head to Barcelona early with Carlos, you braced yourself for the teasing that was sure to follow.
Your brother didn't disappoint, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he launched into a series of jokes about you "fraternizing with the enemy" and how you'd "finally succumbed to Sainz's charms." But beneath the banter, you could see the genuine happiness in Oscar's eyes.
After the laughter died down, he pulled you into a hug and told you he was glad you'd found someone who made you happy, even if it was "that Spanish menace."
He was the best brother you could've asked for.
"And this," Carlos said, gesturing to a small, unassuming restaurant tucked away in a narrow street, "is where you'll find the best paella in all of Barcelona. Maybe even in all of Spain."
"That's a bold claim, Sainz," you raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You better not be overselling it."
"Would I ever lie to you, Piastri?"
"Yes, absolutely," you retorted, but there was no bite to your words.
As you sat down to eat, the aroma of saffron and seafood filled the air. Carlos watched expectantly as you took your first bite, and you couldn't help but close your eyes in delight at the flavors.
"Okay, I'll admit it," you said, opening your eyes to see his triumphant smile. "This might actually be the best paella I've ever had."
"I told you!" he exclaimed, looking far too pleased with himself. "Never doubt a Spaniard when it comes to paella."
"Alright, you win this round," you rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips.
As you continued to enjoy the meal, a comfortable silence settled between you and Carlos. It was in these quiet moments that you found yourself marveling at how far you'd come - from barely tolerating each other to... whatever this was now.
"You know, I've been thinking," Carlos broke the silence, his voice softer than usual, "We've talked a lot about my childhood here in Spain, but I realize I don't know much about your early years in Australia."
You looked up from your plate, a bit surprised by the sudden change in topic. "Oh, well, what do you want to know?"
Carlos leaned forward, his elbows on the table, genuine curiosity in his warm brown eyes. "Everything. What was it like growing up there? What did little YN enjoy back then?”
You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Carlos's question. Your mind immediately went to your childhood memories with Oscar, and you found yourself launching into a familiar narrative.
"Well, growing up in Australia was quite an adventure, especially with Oscar around," you began, a fond smile playing on your lips, “Oscar's always been obsessed with anything that has wheels. Even as a toddler, he'd zoom around the house with his toy cars, making engine noises..."
As you launched into the story of Oscar's journey from go-karts to Formula 1, you found yourself getting carried away with the memories. You talked about the early morning drives to races, the smell of petrol and rubber that became a constant in your life, the way your parents juggled work and Oscar's growing career.
"...and then there was this one time, Oscar was about 14, and he'd just won a major championship. The interviewer asked him who his biggest inspiration was, and do you know what he said?" You paused, smiling at the memory.
Carlos shook his head, completely engrossed in your story.
"He said it was me. Can you believe that? His older sister who couldn't tell a thing about cars. I think I cried for an hour after that interview."
As you finished your tale, you noticed Carlos watching you with an unreadable expression. "What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
Carlos smiled softly, reaching across the table to take your hand.
"Hermosa," he said gently, "I asked about your childhood, and you've told me all about Oscar's racing career."
You blinked, realizing he was right. "Oh, I... I guess I got carried away. Sorry about that."
"No, no," Carlos squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I love hearing about Oscar, truly. But I want to know about you. What did you like growing up? What were your passions, your dreams?"
You blinked, suddenly realizing that you had automatically steered the conversation towards Oscar, as you had done countless times before when asked about your childhood. The fact that Carlos had redirected the focus back to you left you momentarily speechless.
"I... wow," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before."
"Really? But surely people must have been interested in your childhood too?"
You shrugged, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. "Not really. I mean, Oscar was always the star, you know? My pride and joy, the racing prodigy. People were always more interested in his story."
Carlos squeezed your hand gently. "Well, I'm interested in your story. Tell me about little YN Piastri, not just Oscar's sister."
You took a deep breath, feeling a lot of emotions you couldn't quite name. Carlos's genuine interest in your personal story touched something deep within you, a part of yourself you'd almost forgotten existed.
"Actually," you began, your voice soft as you delved into long-buried memories, "I was always drawn to art. Not just painting or drawing, but all forms of visual expression. I remember spending hours in our backyard, arranging leaves and flowers into patterns, or using chalk to create massive, colorful murals on our driveway."
"That sounds beautiful. Did you take classes?" Carlos leaned in, his eyes bright with interest.
"Not really. I wasn't great in school, to be honest. Sitting still, focusing on textbooks - it just wasn't my strong suit. But give me a blank canvas or a lump of clay, and I could lose myself for hours."
"So why didn't you pursue it?" Carlos asked gently.
You paused, considering Carlos's question. It was something you'd never really articulated before, even to yourself.
"I guess... I never saw it as something to pursue," you said slowly. "My focus was always on Oscar. From the moment he started showing promise in racing, I just naturally fell into the role of his protector, his support system."
You smiled softly, remembering those early days. "Oscar was so talented, but he was also just a kid with big dreams and even bigger pressures. I felt like it was my job to shield him from the worst of it, to be his safe haven. It wasn't a sacrifice, not really. It was a choice I made out of love. Oscar's success, his happiness - that became my passion."
"But what about your art?" Carlos pressed, his tone careful but curious.
You shrugged, a mix of emotions flickering across your face. "It just… faded into the background, I guess. There were always races to attend, equipment to pack. My sketchbooks got buried under stacks of racing magazines. My easel gathered dust in the corner of my room."
Carlos reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "YN , that's… that's incredibly selfless of you. But don't you miss it?"
You felt a wave of emotion wash over you at Carlos's question, his gentle touch grounding you.
"I do," you admitted softly, your eyes meeting his. "I've been Oscar's sister, his supporter, for so long. I'm not sure I remember how to be anything else."
"Oh, mi amor," Carlos said softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You're so much more than just Oscar's sister. You're YN - a woman with a beautiful heart and a determinate mind. Your love for Oscar is admirable, but it doesn't have to be the only thing that defines you," he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, "I'm honored to be close to that woman. The one who sees beauty in leaves and flowers, who can lose herself in creating art, even when she forgets about it."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But old habits die hard, and you found yourself deflecting with humor. "Wow, Sainz," you said, a teasing glint in your eye. "Are you always this sappy, or am I just special?"
Carlos's face broke into a grin, recognizing your playful tone. "Only for you, Piastri. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."
"Oh please," you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Your reputation as what? A little bitch?"
Carlos' face broke into a wide grin, "One day you'll stop calling me that."
You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the earlier conversation dissolving into familiar banter. "Keep telling yourself that, Sainz."
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ynpiastri te quiero barcelona 🫶
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username1 OH
username2 WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG
alexandrasaintmleux 👀❤️
username3 SHE THINKS SHES SLICK CROPPING CARLOS’ EYES GIRL WE CAN TELL ITS HIM
lilyzneimer 🥹
username4 the piastri - sainz beef turning into piastri - sainz romance wasn’t on my bingo card
nicolepiastri You failed Spanish like three times in high school…
↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP
↳ oscarpiastri 😂😂😂😂😂😂
↳ username2 mama piastri is too iconic for constantly dragging her kids
↳ ynpiastri 😩
landonorris I SEE HOW IT IS NOW
↳ username1 help lando’s dreams came true
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Saturday arrived in Barcelona, which meant it was time for qualifying.
After your quick rendezvous with Carlos in his motorhome - something that was routine by now- you made your way towards the paddock club to meet Alex and Kika. Your mind was still buzzing from Carlos' touch, your skin tingling where his lips had been just moments ago.
Your hair was slightly tousled, a result of Carlos' fingers running through it. You could still feel the ghost of his kisses on your neck, and the memory sent a shiver down your spine. Pausing briefly, you tried to smooth down your clothes and fix your appearance in the reflection of a nearby trailer. The last thing you needed was more knowing looks from your friends, you had enough when Lando teasing you and Carlos whenever he had the chance.
Approaching the paddock club, you spotted Alex and Kika waiting for you near the entrance.
"Hey, there you are!" Alex called out as you neared. "We were starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "In a place I've been coming to for years? Not likely."
The three of you sat down at a nearby table and ordered something to drink. The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from race predictions to the latest paddock gossip.
"So," Kika said, leaning forward towards you, "how are things going with Carlos? You two seem pretty cozy lately."
You felt a blush creeping up your neck, the warmth spreading to your cheeks. You took a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment, but you couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. "Things are good. Really good, actually."
"But…?" Alex's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied your face.
"But nothing," you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "We're just enjoying each other's company."
Kika's eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet? I thought for sure you two would be official by now."
Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, bringing all your insecurities rushing to the surface. The ones you've tried to push away since this thing with Carlos began.
You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your friends knew you too well. The smile you'd been wearing moments ago faltered, and you could feel the doubt creeping in.
"Hey," Alex said softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Carlos is crazy about you, anyone can see that. Every relationship moves at its own pace."
You nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, of course. We're just taking things slow, that's all."
But as the conversation moved on to other topics, you couldn't shake the doubt that had taken root in your mind. You found yourself only half-listening, your thoughts a swirling mess of questions and insecurities.
Why hadn't Carlos made things official? Was he keeping his options open? Were you still just his rival's sister who picked fights with him in his eyes? The rational part of your brain tried to argue that labels didn't matter, that what you and Carlos had was special regardless of what you called it. But the insecure part wouldn't be silenced so easily.
As you sat there, surrounded by the chatter of your friends and the energy of the circuit, you felt a strange sense of isolation creep over you. You were in Carlos' home city, surrounded by his world, and yet you'd never felt more unsure of your place in it.
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"Finally," Carlos breathed, as he opened the door. Before you could utter a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind you. In one fluid motion, he pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours.
"Carlos, what-" you started, but he silenced you with a searing kiss.
When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. "Sorry," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I've been wanting to do that all day."
"You saw me right after the race, you needy little bitch."
Carlos' hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. "That was hours ago. Far too long."
"Seriously?" you teased, though you couldn't keep the affection out of your voice. "You're ridiculous, Sainz."
"Maybe," he conceded, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. "But you like it."
Carlos began to trail kisses down your neck, his touch igniting sparks across your skin. You laughed as he pulled you towards the bed, your fingers intertwining with his.
"Slow down, hotshot. The bed's not going anywhere."
"But my patience might," he turned to face you, "Do you know how hard it was to focus on the post-race interviews when all I could think about was getting you alone?"
"Oh, poor baby," you teased gently, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "It must have been tough, going over the race data after a P6 finish."
Carlos groaned dramatically, pulling you closer. "Torture, hermosa. Absolute torture."
Carlos guided you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body. With a gentle push, he lowered you onto the mattress, quickly following to hover above you. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and passionate, as his hands roamed your sides, slipping under the hem of your shirt.
You arched into his touch, your own hands exploring the firm planes of his back. Carlos broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck that always made you gasp.
"You're really needy today, aren't you?" you said, running your fingers through his hair.
Carlos' lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes softening with affection. "I'm always needy when it comes to my girl," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips once more.
Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sensation of his warm breath on your skin, but from his words. My girl. The phrase echoed in your mind, stirring up the doubts you'd been trying to push away.
Suddenly, Kika's voice from your earlier conversation rang in your ears. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet?"
The warmth that had been building in your chest turned cold as uncertainty crept in. If you were his girl, then why hadn't he made it official?
Carlos must have sensed your sudden tension because he pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing. "YN? What's wrong?"
You forced a smile, trying to shake off the doubts. "Nothing," you said, your voice not quite as steady as you'd hoped.
He studied your face for a moment, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you sure? We can stop if you're not feeling it."
"No, no," you assured him quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I'm fine. Just… got distracted for a second."
Carlos didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded slowly. "Okay, but promise me you'll tell me if something's bothering you?"
You nodded, pulling him back down for another kiss. As you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you pushed your concerns to the back of your mind.
A few moments later, you laid tangled beneath the covers, your head resting on Carlos' chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder. The afterglow should have been blissful, but your mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts you couldn't quiet.
Carlos must have sensed your unease because he shifted slightly, tilting his head to look at you. "YN? What's wrong, hermosa? You seem… distant. Are you not feeling well?"
You sighed, debating whether to voice your concerns. "It's nothing, really. I just…" you trailed off, unsure how to continue.
"Hey," he said softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"
You bit your lip, your heart racing. "It's just… when you called me 'your girl' earlier… I don't know. It made me think."
"Think about what?" Carlos' brow furrowed slightly. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, no, you didn't," you assured him quickly. "It's more about… us, I guess. About what we are. What this is between us."
"YN," he said, his voice low and intense. "I thought I've been clear about how I feel about you. I've been yours since that kiss at Jimmy'z last year. Maybe even before that, if I'm being honest."
His words should have reassured you, but they only made your anxiety spike. You sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet around you.
You'd wanted clarity, but now that you had it, you didn't know how to handle it.
"But what does that mean, Carlos?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "We've been doing... whatever this is for months now, but we've never really talked about it. We haven't put a label on it."
Carlos sat up too, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I didn't think we needed to. I thought it was obvious how I felt about you."
"Obvious?" you repeated, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "How is it obvious when we've never actually discussed what we are to each other?"
Carlos reached for your hand, but you pulled away, standing up from the bed. You began pacing, your mind racing.
"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice soft. "Come back to bed. Let's talk about this."
You shook your head, reaching for your clothes. "I can't... I need to think. I need some space."
As you hurriedly dressed, Carlos got out of bed, pulling on his boxers. "Are you really running away, Piastri?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice now. "I thought we were past this. That you weren't that arrogant girl who was ready to pick up pointless fights with me anymore."
His words stung, cutting deeper than you thought possible. It felt like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling. The accusation brought back all the insecurities you'd been trying to suppress, all the doubts about whether you deserved this happiness with Carlos. It was as if he'd reached into your chest and squeezed your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable.
You whirled to face him, eyes flashing with hurt and anger. "Arrogant? Is that what you think of me?"
"No, that's not what I meant," Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "I just... I thought we'd moved past the point where you'd run away instead of talking to me."
"Maybe I wouldn't feel the need to run if you'd actually communicate with me," you shot back.
"Communicate?" Carlos scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. You're the one who's been keeping me at arm's length this whole time!"
The accusation hit you like a slap. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, YN," Carlos said, his voice rising. "Every time things get too real, you pull away. You make a joke, you change the subject. It's like you're afraid of admitting that this might actually mean something."
"That's not fair," you protested, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "I'm here, aren't I? I've been here! But how am I supposed to be sure that this isn't just a fling for you? Or some twisted way to mess with Oscar?"
"Oscar?" Carlos looked you with wide eyes, shaking his head, "What does Oscar have to do with anything? This is about us, YN. You and me."
"Is it?" you challenged, your voice breaking. "Because sometimes I don't even know what 'us' means. Are we together? Are we just having fun? How am I supposed to know?"
Carlos' expression softened slightly, but his frustration was still evident. "You're not being fair, Piastri. I've always been the one to show my desire to be with you. I did it that night after Lando's party, remember? But you're the one who runs away when things get real."
His words hit home, and you felt a fresh wave of guilt and confusion wash over you.
"I don't... I don't run away," you said weakly, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.
"Don't you?" Carlos asked, his voice softening. "Every time I try to take a step forward, you take three steps back. I'm not the one who's afraid of labels here."
Silence lingered in the air, you felt physically sick. Carlos' words were true, every single one of them, deep down you knew it. As much as you tried to let your guard down with him, your self defense mechanisms always came through.
"When are you going to stop sabotaging your own happiness for other people?" Carlos asked after another minute of silence. "This isn't about Oscar, or anyone else. It's about you being too scared to admit that you might actually care about me."
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, once again. "Scared? You think I'm scared? I'm terrified, Carlos! Terrified of getting hurt, of ruining everything. And you're not exactly making it easy.""
"How am I not making it easy?" Carlos demanded, his voice rising. "I've been nothing but clear about my feelings for you. Every time I get close, you shut down!" Carlos shouted, his frustration boiling over. "It's like you're allergic to any kind of emotional intimacy!"
"Oh, that's something coming from you," you spat back. "Mr. 'I-can-charm-anyone-with-a-smile'. How do I know this isn't just another conquest for you?"
The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You saw the hurt flash across Carlos' face, quickly replaced by anger.
"A conquest?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Is that really what you think of me? After everything I've shared with you?"
"I don't know what to think anymore," you said, your voice breaking. "This whole thing is just... it's too much. I can't do this."
You turned towards the door, reaching for the handle. Carlos stepped forward, his anger dissipating, replaced by desperation.
"YN, wait," he pleaded. "Please, don't go. Not like this. Let's talk, mi amor. Don't run from me."
The term of endearment, spoken so softly, almost broke your resolve. You paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to flee and the desire to fall into his arms.
"I... I can't, Carlos," you whispered, your voice thick with tears. "I need some time. Some space to think."
"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can figure this out together. Just... stay. Please."
You turned to look at him one last time, your heart breaking at the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," you managed to say. "I'll... I'll call you later."
And with that, you stepped out into the hallway, leaving Carlos standing alone in his room.
You immediately felt like you made a huge mistake.
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You were curled up on the couch in your apartment, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the TV screen. The sound was muted, the flickering images providing a distraction you desperately needed but couldn't quite focus on. Your phone lay face down on the coffee table, ignored despite the occasional vibration of incoming messages.
Your mind wandered to Carlos, it always did.
The memory of your argument played on repeat in your head, each hurtful word a fresh wound. You couldn't shake the image of his face - the hurt, the anger, the desperation in his eyes as you walked out the door. It haunted you.
Everything that had happened that night felt like a blur. The passion of your initial encounter, the tenderness of his touch, the way he called you "his girl" - it all seemed so perfect until your insecurities came crashing in. You wondered if you had overreacted, if you had let your fears get the best of you.
Carlos had been right about one thing - you did have a tendency to run when things got too real. It was a defense mechanism, a way to protect yourself from getting hurt. But in doing so, were you sabotaging your own happiness, like he said?
The only thing you were sure about was that it wasn't physical attraction or the remaining tension of your bickering from last year anymore, Carlos saw you in a way no one else did, and that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.
Your conversation with Lando from earlier that day came back to you. You had called him in a moment of panic, spilling out all your fears and doubts. Lando, ever the unusual voice of reason, had listened patiently.
"YN," he had said, his voice gentle but firm, "you can't let your insecurities ruin what you and Carlos could have. I've known him for years, and I've never seen him like this with anyone else. He really cares about you."
"But what if it doesn't work out?" you had asked, your voice small. "What if we end up hating each other again?"
Lando had chuckled at that. "You two are so stubborn, you know that? You're both so afraid of letting your guard down that you're pushing each other away. Someone needs to take the first step, YN. And from what Carlos has told me, he's been trying. Maybe it's your turn."
His words echoed in your mind now, mixing with the memory of Carlos' plea for you to stay.
You made a huge mistake by walking away that night, and now you didn't know how to fix it.
A soft knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You hesitated, not wanting to face anyone, but another, more insistent knock followed.
"YN? It's me, open up," Oscar's voice called from the other side.
With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and shuffled to the door. When you opened it, your brother's concerned face greeted you.
"Hey," Oscar said softly, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. "Can I come in?"
You nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. Oscar walked in, his gaze taking in the dim lighting and the general disarray of your usually tidy living room. He turned to face you, worry etched across his features.
"What's going on, sis? I heard you're not going to Austria," he said, his voice gentle but probing. "And it looks like you haven't slept in days."
You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I just need a break," you mumbled, moving back to the couch and curling up in your previous position.
Oscar followed, sitting down beside you.
He reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and familiar. "YN, talk to me. What's really going on? Is this about Carlos?"
At the mention of Carlos' name, you felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Oscar noticed your reaction and pulled you into a tight hug.
"Oh, sis," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "What happened?"
You buried your face in your brother's shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. Between sobs, you started to explain everything that had happened in Barcelona - the conversation with Kika and Alex, your growing insecurities, the night in Carlos's hotel room, your argument. As you spoke, you could feel the weight of the past week pressing down on you, the emotions you'd been bottling up threatening to spill over.
"…and now, I don't know what to do," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I've ruined everything."
"YN, listen to me. You haven't ruined anything," Oscar said, "Relationships are complicated, and misunderstandings happen. But from what you've told me and what I've seen, it sounds like Carlos cares about you a lot. And I think you care about him too, more than you're willing to admit to yourself."
"But what if it all goes wrong?" you wiped your eyes, sniffling. "What if we end up hating each other even more than we did before? What if... what if I'm not enough for him?"
Oscar shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You've always been your own worst enemy, you know that?" you almost rolled your eyes at he familiar statement. "Remember when I left for boarding school? You were so upset, convinced that I was leaving you behind forever. You didn't want to say goodbye, afraid it would hurt too much."
The memory flooded back, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "Yeah, I remember," you said softly.
"But do you remember what happened after?" Oscar prompted.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "We ended up talking more than ever. Phone calls, letters, video chats…"
"Exactly," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "You were so scared of losing me that you almost pushed me away. But when you finally opened up, our relationship grew stronger than ever."
"That's different, Oscar. This is… it's Carlos. It's complicated."
"Is it?" Oscar challenged. "Or are you just making it complicated because you're scared? I've seen the way you two look at each other. It's not just some leftover tension from your rivalry. It's real."
You sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. "But what if-"
"No more 'what ifs'," Oscar interrupted. "You can't live your life afraid of what might happen. You're missing out on what's right in front of you," you were quiet for a moment, considering his words until he spoke again, "I know you’ve held back a lot in your life—for me, for our family—but I don’t want you holding back when it comes to Carlos.”
You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Oscar hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I mean… I’ve seen how much you sacrifice for the people you love. You’ve put so much of your own life on hold to support me, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But when it comes to Carlos—this thing between you—it’s different. I would never forgive myself if you sacrificed that for my sake.”
Your heart clenched at his words, and you realized how much Oscar understood you, maybe even more than you realized. “Oscar, I’m not holding back for you, I—”
“I know you’re not doing it consciously," he interrupted gently, "But I can see it. You’re worried about how our dynamic will change, or maybe how I’ll react. But, YN, I want you to be happy. If being with Carlos makes you happy, then I want you to go for it. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about anyone else.”
You sat there, absorbing what Oscar said. His words made you feel a lot of different things all at once. You realized he was right - you had been holding back, not just with Carlos, but in many parts of your life. This scared you, but also made you feel free.
It was time to put yourself first.
"I hate that you're always so wise, you're my little brother, I'm supposed to be the one giving you advice, not the other way around."
"To be fair, I was thrown into the motorsport world at an early age, you experience all kinds of drama there," he shrugged, making both of you laugh, "Now, are you going to talk to him, or do I need to drag you to Austria myself? Or even Madrid?"
You let out a small laugh, the first genuine one in days. "I guess I'll talk to him. But I still don't feel like going to Austria, I need some time to gather my thoughts."
"Fair enough," Oscar nodded, "Just don't take too long, okay? You both deserve to be happy. And Lando is freaking out because you're ruining his dreams again."
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ynpiastri i almost forgot how it felt to watch a race on tv. congratulations boys 🥳 and ty to my queen @carmenmmundt for the last picture
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username1 QUEEN WE MISS YOU WHAT HAPPENED
username2 the paddock is not the same without the most iconic piastri
lilyzneimer 🤍
carmenmmundt 😚😚
username3 im pretty sure this is the first time she’s not at a race since oscar’s f2 days
username4 THE 55 HELLO?????
username5 WHATS THEIR SHIP NAME?? PAINZ???
username6 she’s down bad for the smooth operator this is what i call enemies to lovers
landonorris You seem happy for my DNF…
↳ ynpiastri stfu
carlossainz55 ❤️
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You paced nervously in your apartment, your heart racing as you waited for Carlos to arrive. The soft carpet muffled your footsteps but did nothing to quiet the storm of thoughts in your head. You had rehearsed what you wanted to say a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, all your carefully prepared words seemed to evaporate.
Your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall, then to your phone, checking the time for what felt like the thousandth time. The knock on the door made you jump, your pulse skyrocketing. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. "It's just Carlos," you told yourself, but that thought brought both comfort and a new wave of anxiety.
With trembling hands, you smoothed down your shirt and ran a hand through your hair before opening the door. Carlos stood there, looking tired but as handsome as ever. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd been running his hands through it—a nervous habit you'd noticed before.
His eyes lit up when he saw you, a mix of relief and apprehension in his gaze. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions.
"Hi," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You stepped aside to let him in, hyper-aware of his presence as he moved past you.
"Hi," he replied, his voice warm as he entered.
You led him to the living room, settling on the couch. There was a moment of awkward silence, the tension palpable. You both opened your mouths to speak at the same time.
"I'm sorry—“
"I wanted to—"
You both laughed, some of the tension dissipating. The sound of his laughter, even tinged with nervousness, helped to ease some of your anxiety.
"You go first," Carlos said, his eyes soft as he looked at you. His gaze was patient, encouraging, and you drew strength from it.
You took a deep breath, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, knowing he deserved your full honesty. "Carlos, I'm so sorry for running away in Barcelona. It wasn't fair to you, and I've been kicking myself ever since. I… I panicked. Everything was happening so fast, and I just… I couldn't handle it."
He nodded, his expression understanding. He reached out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver through you. "I appreciate that, YN. Truly. But I owe you an apology too. I shouldn't have pushed you or made assumptions about your feelings. I got caught up in the moment and didn't consider how overwhelming it might be for you."
"No, Carlos, you were right," you shook your head, squeezing his hand. "I do run away when things get too real. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to myself either."
You paused, gathering your courage. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Carlos must be able to hear it. "The truth is, I care about you. A lot. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. And that terrifies me."
Carlos moved closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. The tenderness in his touch almost undid you. "Why does it terrify you, mi amor?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.
You leaned into his touch, feeling tears prick at your eyes. The vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to continue. "Because I'm not used to feeling this vulnerable. I've always prided myself on being independent, on not needing anyone. It's been my armor, my way of protecting myself. But with you… you see parts of me that I don't show anyone else. You've managed to slip past all my defenses, and it scares me how much I want to let you in completely."
Carlos listened intently, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you spoke. His warmth, his steady presence, made the walls you had built around yourself seem almost unnecessary.
"It's okay to be scared, hermosa. I understand why you feel like you need to protect yourself. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here, and I want to be here for you, with you."
Your heart swelled at his words, and despite the vulnerability, a small part of you felt lighter, freer. "I’ve never let anyone get this close before," you admitted. "But I don’t want to keep running, Carlos. I don’t want to keep pushing you away."
Carlos smiled softly, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. "I don’t want you to run, either. I want us to be together, whatever comes next. But only if that’s what you want."
You exhaled shakily, emotions swirling inside you like a storm. "It is what I want," you said, your voice firm but laced with emotion. "I want to be with you. I’m tired of being scared of something that could be so good."
A look of pure relief crossed Carlos' face, and he pulled you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his heart beating steadily under your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he were afraid you might disappear.
"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, answering the unspoken fear that lingered between you both.
Carlos kissed the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that."
You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, "I promise I'll change, I'll be-"
"Mi amor," Carlos interrupted softly, "I don't want to change you. I fell for you exactly as you are—stubborn, brilliant, and fiercely independent. Those are the qualities that drew me to you in the first place."
You couldn't help but smile at that, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Even when I was being a pain in your ass?" you asked, a hint of your usual sass creeping into your voice.
"Especially then," he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. "You know, even when we were at each other's throats, I was always drawn to you. I wanted to know you better, to understand what made you such a firecracker."
"Really?" you asked, surprised.
"Really," he confirmed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Besides, you were infuriatingly attractive when you were angry. The way your eyes would flash, the flush on your cheeks… it took everything in me not to kiss you right then and there sometimes."
You felt a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks at Carlos' words, but you couldn't help the playful smirk that tugged at your lips. "Oh, so that's why you were always trying to rile me up, huh? And here I thought you were just being an insufferable little bitch."
"Ah, there's the Piastri I know," Carlos threw his head back in laughter. "I was wondering when your sharp tongue would make an appearance."
"You love it," you teased, feeling more like yourself than you had in days.
"I do," he admitted, his eyes twinkling.
Carlos' gaze dropped to your lips. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't want to. Not anymore.
Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was still afraid you might run. But as you responded, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.
When you finally pulled apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "I meant every word I said," he murmured. "I'm serious about this. I want to make this work."
You took a deep breath, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now. "I'm serious too, Carlos. It scares me how much I want this, but… I want to be with you."
The smile that broke across Carlos' face was radiant. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again.
"You're still my little bitch after all," you couldn't help but laugh as you parted.
"When are you going to change that to something more romantic, hmm?" Carlos rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "'Mi amor,' perhaps? Or 'cariño'?"
"How many times do I have to tell you that I failed Spanish in high school?" you rolled your eyes back at him. "And I thought you liked it when I called you that. Didn't you say once that it turned you on?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," he said with a grin. "But how about this—you can call me your 'little bitch' if you want, but I get to call you my girlfriend. Deal?"
Your heart skipped a beat at the word 'girlfriend.' It should have scared you, but instead, it filled you with warmth.
"Deal," you agreed, pulling him in for another kiss.
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ynpiastri fitting 💋
view all 4,688 comments
username1 OMGGGG
username2 ICONIC
alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂
username3 WHOS THE BOYFRIENDDDD
logansargeant Is this who I think it is? 👀
↳ ynpiastri little bitches everywhere
username4 THATS CARLOS CONFIRMED
username5 CARLOSYN PAINZ 😩
landonorris BITCH FINALLY
↳ username1 i bet lando manifested this
nicolepiastri We been knew since Singapore 2023, by the way
↳ ynpiastri MUM 😩
↳ username2 I LOVE YOU NICOLE PIASTRI
carlossainz55 ❤️
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The Hungarian Grand Prix had been a whirlwind of emotions. The entire paddock was still buzzing with excitement over Oscar's maiden Formula 1 victory.
Your little brother had driven the race of his life, leading most of the laps to take the checkered flag. The memory of him standing on the top step of the podium, eyes glistening with tears of joy as the Australian national anthem played, was one you'd cherish forever. The pride you felt was indescribable - your baby brother, the kid you'd watched grow up and chase his dreams, was now a Grand Prix winner.
It had been three blissful weeks since you and Carlos had officially become a couple. After your heartfelt conversation at your apartment, you had both taken the time to navigate this new phase of your relationship, and it had been everything you could have hoped for.
Telling your close friends and family was the easy part. Lando practically squealed with delight, Oscar and Carlos had a nice chat, and of course, Nicole Piastri, a fan of dragging her own kids, reminded everyone that you failed Spanish in high school multiple times, so Carlos had to make sure to constantly translate for you. The rest of the paddock had quickly caught on, and soon, Carlos Sainz and the eldest Piastri were the talk of the town.
But you didn't mind the attention. Being with Carlos felt so natural and right.
Now, as you sat in the airport waiting for your delayed flight to Monaco, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Sure, the hours-long delay was less than ideal, but you were surrounded by the people you cared about most, celebrating Oscar's first win with good old fasioned airport McDonalds.
"I can't believe Oscar got his first win," Lando exclaimed, already halfway through a Big Mac. "That's crazy, mate."
"I know, I still can't believe it," Oscar beamed, "It hasn't really sunk in yet."
You reached over to give your brother's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'm so proud of you, Osc. You deserve it."
"Thanks, sister. Couldn't have done it without your support all these years."
"Oh, come on," you teased, "I didn't drive that car. That was all you out there."
"Yeah, but you've always been there," Oscar insisted, his voice softening. "Through the karting days, the junior formulas, all of it. It means a lot."
You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by your brother's words. You pulled Oscar into a tight hug, blinking back tears of pride and joy. "You're my little brother, Osc. I'll always be in your corner, no matter what."
Oscar returned the embrace, squeezing you tightly. "I know, YN. And I couldn't ask for a better cheerleader."
When you finally pulled apart, you noticed the others watching with fond smiles.
Across the lounge, Carlos was engaged in an animated conversation with Lando, their voices a low hum in the background. You couldn't help but watch him, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the graceful movement of his hands as he gesticulated. Even in casual clothes, hair slightly mussed from the long day, he took your breath away.
As if sensing your gaze, Carlos looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The soft smile that spread across his face sent a flutter through your chest. You patted the empty spot next to you on the couch, a silent invitation. He nodded, excusing himself from his conversation with Lando, which couldn't help but tease about the two of you being codependent now.
"Missing me already, mi amor?" Carlos teased as he approached.
You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't keep the smile off your face. "Don't flatter yourself, Sainz. I just didn't want you to strain your neck looking over here every five seconds."
Carlos chuckled as he sat down next to you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Ah, but how can I resist when the view is so beautiful?"
You snuggled into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. "Smooth talker," you murmured, but there was no bite to your words.
"Only for you, hermosa," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, watching as the sun began to set through the large windows. The quiet was occasionally punctuated by laughter from where Oscar, Alex, and Lando were playing some sort of card game.
"How are you feeling?" you asked Carlos softly, noticing the slight droop to his shoulders.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tired," he admitted. "It's been a long few weeks. But happy," he added, squeezing you gently. "Very happy."
You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm glad. You drove amazingly this weekend, you know."
"Thank you," Carlos leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. "It means a lot coming from you."
Carlos let out a contented sigh, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested on his cheek. "I can't wait for the summer break, you know?" he murmured. "Just you and me, in Mallorca. No distractions, no obligations..." he turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm, his gaze holding yours. "I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Getting you all to myself, finally."
"That sounds perfect," you sighed happily. "Though I hope your plans also include plenty of time for just lounging around and doing absolutely nothing."
"Of course, whatever you want, hermosa."
"Whatever I want, huh?" you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye. "That's a dangerous offer, Sainz."
"I think I can handle whatever you throw at me, Piastri," he grinned, leaning in closer.
You were about to reply when a french fry hit you squarely on the forehead. You turned to see Oscar looking at you with mock disgust.
"Seriously, you two? We're right here," he groaned.
"Oh, like you and Lily aren't just as bad," you retorted, throwing the fry back at him.
Oscar caught it mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a grin. "At least we have the decency to be gross in private."
"I don't think I'll ever get used to see you all lovey-dovey," Lando chimed in.
"Shut up, Lando," you rolled your eyes, "I seem to recall you being the one who was pushing for this whole thing in the first place."
"Yeah, well," Lando shrugged, "I'm starting to think I preferred it when Carlos thought you were insufferable and you called him a 'little bitch'."
You couldn't help but laugh at that, glancing over at Carlos and pecking his cheek. "Oh, I still do."
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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri 403,664 others
ynpiastri my little brother, the grand prix winner 🥺
oscar, watching you stand on that top step today brought tears to my eyes. i still remember the day you left for boarding school to chase your racing dreams. i felt like i was losing my little brother, and a piece of my heart went with you.
but seeing you now, living your dream and achieving what so many thought impossible, all i can feel is an overwhelming sense of pride. you've grown into an incredible man and driver, but you'll always be that kid who used to steal my snacks and beg me to play race cars with him.
your journey hasn't been easy, through every challenge, every setback, you kept pushing. and now, here you are, a grand prix winner, battling with the best (and occasionally a spaniard little bitch 😩)
you've grown so much, but some things never change. like how we're celebrating this monumental victory - stuck in an airport, chowing down on mcdonald's.
i love you so much, little bro ❤️
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlossainz55, landonorris, alex_albon
view all 4,648 comments
username1 im SOBBING this is so beautiful
username2 THE PIASTRI SIBLINGS ARE JUST TOO PURE
mclaren 🧡
nicolepiastri 🥲🥲🥲
username3 AHHH THE PICTURE OF HER AND CARLOS IN THE PLANE I CANT
username4 this is too pure as an eldest daughter im sobbing
username5 PAINZ CONFIRMED
carlossainz55 ❤️
↳ username1 he only comments hearts come on bro
username6 THE LANDOSCAR PIC🥺
oscarpiastri Sis, you've got me tearing up in the middle of this crowded airport. Your support has been the backbone of my journey, and I couldn't have done this without you. You've worn so many hats - cheerleader, mentor, occasional bodyguard (those Twitter wars were something else 😂 but look at you and Carlos now). But most importantly, you've been my rock. When Mum and Dad couldn't be there because of work, you stepped up. You've been my third parent in every way that counts. So yeah, we might be stuck in an airport eating McDonald's right now, but I wouldn't want to share this moment with anyone else. You're the best sister and 'bonus parent' a guy could ask for.
↳ ynpiastri bitch stop it my therapist has enough issues to deal with (ILYSM)
↳ username1 SHES SO REAL
↳ username2 OSCAR CONFIRMING CARLOS-YN
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The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in oranges, pinks, and purples. The water was gently hitting the side of the yacht, making a calming sound. This peaceful feeling matched the quiet mood around you and Carlos.
You were sprawled out on the deck, lounging on plush cushions as the warm Mallorcan breeze caressed your skin. Carlos lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
"You're staring," you murmured, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Carlos didn't even try to deny it. "How can I not?" he replied, his voice low and husky. "You're breathtaking, mi amor."
You felt a blush creep up your neck, still not entirely used to the way Carlos could make you feel with just a few words. "Flatterer," you teased, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.
He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly in contentment. When he opened them again, the look he gave you was filled with such warmth and adoration that it made your heart skip a beat.
"It's not flattery if it's true," Carlos insisted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
You couldn't help the small gasp that escaped you as his lips trailed up your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Carlos," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver through you. "Yes, hermosa?"
"Kiss me," you demanded softly, tugging him closer.
Carlos was more than happy to oblige, capturing your lips in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. You lost yourself in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.
When you finally broke apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his accent thicker than usual.
"Good. That's the plan," you grinned
Carlos groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You'll be the death of me, Piastri."
"But what a way to go," you quipped, running your hands down his back.
He chuckled against your skin, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through you. "Indeed."
As Carlos lifted his head to look at you again, something caught your eye over his shoulder. Squinting slightly, you realized what it was and couldn't help but let out a small sigh.
"What is it?" Carlos asked, noticing the change in your expression.
"Don't look now, but we've got company," you said, nodding slightly towards the distance. "Paparazzi, about a hundred meters out."
Carlos groaned, dropping his head back to your shoulder. "Can't we have one moment of peace?"
You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. "Hey, it's okay. We knew this was part of the deal."
"I know. I just… I want to keep you all to myself sometimes."
The possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through you. "Well," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, "if they're going to intrude on our privacy anyway, we might as well give them something to see."
Before Carlos could react, you pulled him down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and decidedly more public-friendly than your previous ones. When you pulled back, Carlos looked slightly dazed.
"Dios mio, your family is going to see those," he shook his head, "What will Nicole Piastri think of me? Oscar will run me off the track, too."
You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, please. My mum adores you, and you know it. As for Oscar, well… he'll just have to get used to it," you shrugged, "He was the one who encouraged this to happen anyway."
Carlos only shook his head with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling his skin against yours.
When you finally broke apart, Carlos's eyes were soft, "Te quiero," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with emotion.
You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "I failed Spanish, remember?" you teased gently, your heart racing in your chest.
Carlos's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back. "I think you know what that means," he replied, his gaze never leaving yours.
"I love you too, you little bitch."
Carlos let out a dramatic groan, but the affection in his expression was unmistakable. "I should have known the sappiness wouldn't last."
"Hey, you signed up for this," you teased, poking him playfully in the chest. "Might as well accept it."
Pulling you close, Carlos pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Gladly, mi amor. Gladly."
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INSTAGRAM
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liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 476,458 others
ynpiastri he’s still a little bitch 😚
tagged: carlossainz55
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username1 AHHHH
username2 THIS HARD LAUCH
alexandrasaintmleux love to see you happy my girl 🥰
lilyzneimer 💓💓
username3 THIS is enemies to lovers
username4 i still can’t believe they’re together 😭 THEY HATED EACH OTHER
georgerussell63 WELL FINALLY
↳ alex_albon For real
↳ username1 THE ENTIRE GRID JUST KNEW
↳ ynpiastri why are all of you so damn nosy
↳ pierregasly Or you and Carlos were too obvious
↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂😂
oscarpiastri Yup, this is weird
↳ username1 OSCARRRR
oscarpiastri However, I’m really happy for you sister ❤️
↳ ynpiastri ily little indirect matchmaker
carlossainz55 You’ll never stop calling me that, won’t you hermosa?
↳ ynpiastri NEVERRR MY LITTLE BITCH FOR LIFE
3K notes · View notes
bykshre · 2 months ago
Text
We Found Love
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charles leclerc x female reader (smau) 1/2
summary: you and charles were meant to be together even if the media, society and his girlfriend criticized you.
trope: childhood friends to lovers, ferrari driver x head strategist , mean gf (no hate to any of charles' gf's, ex or current.)
a/n: i know i know im the worst updater and writer ever (I'm sorry okay 😭 I'm busy and I lose motivation lol)but im back slowly but surely, and this is so new! My first F1 fic aahh :D This is very small, I just needed to get this out (monza took my heart away!) hope y'all like it hehe xx.
Months before MONZA
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ursernames
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life lately - enjoying the break before it's Monza ❤️‍🔥🌷🌺🌠🪽🥨🍽️🪡⌨️👠💎
iked by charles_leclerc,mlnmarta, and 1M others
lewishamilton looks like someone had fun!
⤷ ursernames obviously mate 🧉!!
charles_leclerc wannabe artistic ass 😘😻🤡
⤷ ursernames shut up donkey 🐴🫏😊
kikagomez 💫💗
liked by author
@Ynniequeenn
I'm surprised Charles isn't spending the vacay with her. Sounds fishy but they still act close 😕. I don't know man.
⤷ @chrshls: people like you suck! get a life.
charles_leclerc
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everything is good 🩵
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, ursername and 4M others
joristrouche amazing!
ursernames leooo awwww
liked by author
pierregasly simba and leo meetup soon? 😂
⤷ charles_leclerc soon!
alexandrasaintmleux amores <3
liked by author
ursernames
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thank you for the wishes everyone, just took another lap around the earth 🌍 🌷🌺🩵
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz and 5M others.
formula_1 happy birthday to the best-ever strategist!
liked by author
scuderiaferrari buon compleanno stargirl!
⤷ ursernames grazie mille!
charles_leclerc joyeux anniversaire ma meilleure fille
liked by author
mlnmarta joyeux anniversaire ma soeur
⤷ usernames 💞💞
oscarpiastri have a great day old lady 🥳
⤷ ursername when i catch you oscar when i bloody catch you! 😵😵
f1wags&insiders
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BREAKING 🚨 Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mluex were fighting at a party! Apparently, it was the same birthday party held for Y/N's 27th birthday. What are your thoughts 💭?
liked by 40K others
alexfp i just can't stand this anymore! It's clear that something's up with charles 😐
leclecice bro, alex is straight up toxic just admit it she is NOT a paddock queen neither the IT wag ughh 🥱🥱
lestappenfpp time for charles WDC lesgoo
ynstan will charles and yn ever date? they have that CHEMISTRY yk
malenalexx it's definitely something to do with charles
⤷ unknownchaaa smartest alex fan..
ynstrategyss literally how crazy can Alex even get until they fuck up yns birthday party?! seriously i lost my respect for her.
alexandrasaintmluex
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🌺🌺 floral vibes 🌺🌺
liked by joristrouche and 100K others
alexfp omg our queen 👑!!
foralexa hi alexx i hope you're doing well ❤️‍🩹 you look gorgeous btw 🤩
liked by author
kikagomez 💫😵⭐
rebeccadonaldson literally so pretty 🌺🌺
⤷ alexandrasaintmluex says the prettiest!
charlesfanpage charles not in the likes? sus.
leclecicecreammm someone's tryna churn content asap b4 the breakup LOLL
⤷ alexandrasaintmluex you're hilarious. 🥱
ynstrategyss hope y'all okay...
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
2 weeks before Monza, at the Ferrari HQ
"Hey, can we talk, please?" Charles asked Yn as the meeting begun to wrap up.
"What do you want, Charles? Does making me look like a fool on my birthday not enough?!" You said very honestly.
"No,no, mon cher, listen to me."
"I'm sorry for whatever Alex caused during your birthday party. I wanted the party to be nice and surrounded by your close friend's and family. I'm regretful I chose to bring Alex as a tag along. She wanted to go and I can't say no anyways."
"What's your point, Charles? I'm tired of this drama. I am." You said,
"Yn, we've been friends since so young, we spent almost every day with eachother, basically inseparable. Maman practically consideres you her the daughter she never had and you're really close to my family and brothers. Even with my exes you had a close bond with them."
"Mhm, that's right I loved your exes." You said slightly smiling,
"Ever since I dated Alex, she.... she liked fame and attention. Even if she didn't show it much. And when she saw us being close and basically just friends, she got mad and jealous. I didn't realise much until you told me when she confronted you."
"She reads a lot of the news, tweets and those tiktok edits of us that is all over social media. She is influenced by them. And I honestly don't get how they consider our bond romantic but not platonic."
"Alex has been fighting a lot with me past few months. We are not close, anymore. Not liked we used to be. She's constantly screaming and I can't stand her anymore."
"Mon ange, whatever happens with you and her, please... just tell me. I saw the texts she sent you and it wasn't pleasant. Why have you been keeping this a secret. Please ange, don't do it anymore."
"I don't know how longer I can sustain this relationship if it continues to be as toxic as this." Charles said earning a pout from you.
" Charlie, I wanted to see you happy with Alex. I'm sorry about what's been happening at home. I'm sorry too.." you said,
" Are we good?"
"Yeah we are, Charlie" you said, earning a tight hug from you best friend.
It's undeniable that you've always liked Charles. He was handsome, he was everything a women could've dreamt of. And obviously you're one of them. You'd never had the chance to confess and you think you'd never will. It's better to blossom a good, sustainable friendship rather than risking it all for a relationship. Your a simple person, you're critical and realistic.
When Alex confronted you about your relationship with Charles, it hit you till the pit of your heart. You begun thinking if you were too clingy or romantic with Charles. You begun distancing yourself from him thinking you were at fault. You did not want to be a homewrecker,ever.
Although Charles confrontation settled a little of your thoughts, you cannot deny the growing feelings for Charles in that heart of yours.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
charles_leclerc
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P4. Deluso ma abbiamo dato tutto. Grazie a tutti voi per esserci sempre. E domani, andiamoooooo 😍
liked by carlossainz,oscarpiastri, ursername and 3M others
ursername let's get it ✨✨
speedingcharles we counting on u buddy
anthoinetrouchet let's get it ittttttttt aaa
alexandrasaintmluex 💕
ursername
story, 1hr ago
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feels great to back in monza! hoping to make tifosi's proud this weekend 🇮🇹 Let's see what we can do with a P4 and P5.
RACE DAY IN MONZA.
⭐⭐⭐
@F1LiveUpdates:
"Lights out at Monza! Charles Leclerc is in the fight for P1, but all eyes are on Ferrari’s strategy today. Y/N calling the shots 👀 #Monza #CharlesLeclerc #Ferrari"
@LeclercFans:
"Y/N on the pit wall, looking like a boss. Monza is hers to win 🔥 #YN #FerrariFam"
Your heart raced as you watched the battle unfold in front of your eyes. Charles was in second, fighting tooth and nail to close the gap on the leader. Your freshly manicured nails hovered over the radio button, ready to call the next move.
The crowd roared in the background, but your focus was razor-sharp. Charles trusted your instincts, and you wasn’t about to let him down.
Y/N (over radio):
"Box, box. Let’s go for the undercut."
Charles
"Copy. Trusting you on this."
The team jumped into action as Charles pitted. Y/N watched with bated breath, hoping the strategy would pay off.
As Charles emerged from the pits, your hands clenched into a fist. The timing was perfect. They had nailed it. It will take time to pass through lando but it'll be worth it. And you knew it.
Y/N (over radio):
"P1. 35 laps ahead. Now hold it. You’ve got this."
The crowd was deafening as the final lap approached. You stood with her arms crossed, staring at the screens, barely blinking. Charles had a three-second lead, but the pressure was immense. Your heart pounded in time with the roar of the engines.
Y/N (over radio):
"Last lap, Charles. Bring it home."
You held her breath as the checkered flag waved and the roar from the grandstands signaled what you'd hoped for.
Charles (over radio):
"We did it! P1! We won, Y/N!"
Bryan (over radio)
"AND P1!"
@F1Live:
"Leclerc takes P1 at Monza! What a race! Ferrari fans are going wild! #CharlesLeclerc #Monza"
@FerrariFans:
"Y/N’s strategy today was perfection. Absolute genius. 🔥 #TeamYN #Ferrari"
@LeclercNation:
"Y/N hugging Charles after that win? Yeah, there’s something there. No one can convince me otherwise. #CharlesAndYN"
charles_leclerc
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Siete i numeri 1, Forza Ferrari ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
liked by ursername,alexandrasaintmluex, lewishamilton and 10M others
ursername congrats charliee <3
liked by author
⤷ charles_leclerc couldn't done it without you, yn 😘
formula_1 tifosi's pride and joy
lewishamilton enjoy the win mate! great job
oscarpiastri congrats charles!
pascale_leclerc my boy
liked by author
⤷charles_leclerc i didnt leave you at the gransdstands this time 😂
ursername
story, 2h ago
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FEVER DREAM!! GRAZIE GRAZIE TUTTI MILLE!
@LeclercNation:
"Alexandra needs to chill. Y/N is just doing her job. She’s a strategist, not a homewrecker! #TeamYN"
formula_1
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leo meets his papa who just won the italian grand prix! lovely family at sight 🐕🐶🐾
liked by mlnmarta,alexandrasaintmluex and 2M others
alexfp ahh the cutiess, though she wasn't here but mah queen is always here to shine
alexandrasaintmluex 😍
lecleccreamss since when did F1 turn into a wag thing. Seriously F1? This content is unnecessary!
alexandramyqueen omg our couple is back yayyy
mimosahater @F1Dramaa post. look at this post.
@F1Drama:
"Rumors are flying that Y/N and Alexandra had a heated argument in the Ferrari garage. How much longer can this triangle last? #CharlesLeclerc #YN"
@FerrariInsider:
"It’s getting messy. Y/N is too professional to get involved, but Alexandra seems to be on edge. #F1Gossip #FerrariDrama"
@LeclercNation:
"Y/N is just trying to do her job, but Alex is clearly feeling threatened. Charles needs to step up. #TeamYN"
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
You were packing up in the garage, getting reading to back to the hotel, when Alexandra appeared at the doorway. She looked calm, but there was a fire in her eyes.
"We need to talk." Alex said
You set down your notes, bracing yourself. You replied, "About what?"
"About Charles. About you."
"I’m just doing my job, Alexandra. If you think I’m trying to come between you two, you’re wrong."
Alexandra crossed her arms, stepping closer. "I don’t know if I believe that. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I’m not stupid!"
Your jaw clenched. "You’re right. You’re not stupid. But you’re also insecure. And that’s not my problem. I’m here because I’m good at what I do, and Charles knows that."
"Insecure?" Alexandra’s voice was laced with venom. "Do you have any idea what it’s like watching him put you before me over and over again?"
"He doesn’t put me before you, Alexandra. He’s just focused on his career. If you can’t handle that, maybe the problem isn’t me. Maybe it’s your relationship."
Alexandra stared at you, her expression hardening. "You think you’re so untouchable, don’t you? That because you’re the team strategist, you’re safe. But I see the way you want him."
You took a deep breath, stepping forward. "If you’re so sure about that, then maybe you should talk to Charles instead of blaming me."
"Look here, Charles just won the Italian grandprix. It's a big celebration for team. Let's be happy for the win, instead of bringing this up, now."
"Have a great day, Alexandra" you said and left the paddock without any hesitation.
ursername
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thank you bryan, charles, carlos, fred and the team for making this strategy happen! to our biggest supporters, the tifosi ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 6M others
lewishamilton absolutely fantastic strategy yn, you made it happen 👑👑
⤷ ursername i absolutely cannot wait for you to get on this team any longer!! tysm lewis, really appreciate it 💕💕💫
charles_leclerc tu as réalisé mon plus grand rêve, merci ma belle stratège, ma meilleure amie bien-aimée 🥇🥇🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️
⤷ ursername you were behind the wheel, you make us all dream mon rêveur, mon soleil 🩷🩷
mlnmarta such a shame i wasn't able to witness this but again, ma petite sœur, tu nous fais tous rêver 🥹
⤷ ursername tu aimes me faire pleurer 🥹❤️
After the Azerbaijan Grand Prix
charles_leclerc
story, 2m ago
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Part 2 when?
2K notes · View notes
sugume · 9 months ago
Text
YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
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✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 
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“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 
— 
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  
“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 
“Sweetheart...” 
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 
— 
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 
“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 
‘Are you serious?’ 
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 
— 
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 
“What?” You ask. 
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 
“I don’t care.” 
“Please—” 
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 
— 
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 
‘Oh wow.’ 
‘I know.’ 
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 
‘And what is that?’ 
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  
You nod. 
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 
“N-no!” 
— 
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 
 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  
“No babydoll—” 
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 
“I know it’s a lot of information.” 
“It is.” 
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  
“Suguru—” 
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 
“You okay babydoll?”  
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  
“T-that was—” 
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 
“Same.” You smile before wincing. 
“What’s wrong babydoll.”  
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  
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pyrodolls · 4 months ago
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hi i was wondering if you would do headcannons of the yan!fanboy if reader actually noticed him coming to all their shows and events
obsessed (superfan! yandere boy x gn!popstar reader)
warnings: stalking, average yandere tendencies, nsfw, perverted yandere, gender neutral reader, mentions of naked reader but no genitalia addressed, dom reader, reader is compliant with the yandere and teases him a ton, lowercase intended. btw i do not condone yanderes irl.
a/n: i hope y'all know i read every single one of your asks, comments, and reblogs. i appreciate them all and they do brighten my day. i'm just saying this so y'all know that the stuff you send to other writers (not just me) matters a lot!! when you interact it gives them inspiration!!! and motivation!! me personally sometimes i see ONE kind reblog and i immediately get my ass up and start writing something just because of that one person. don't get me wrong, i still love all my lurkers that silently like a ton of my stuff, y'all are important too. anyways i'll shut up now onto the hcs. (btw this ended up being a fic instead of hcs i apologize. i went crazy over this i'm sorry anon LMAO)
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"hey, you look pretty familiar. have you been to a few shows before?" you asked kindly, facing the short man in the front row of the audience.
bayani froze as the stadium's screens pointed to him. he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. his face went red and his throat went dry. did you actually notice him, or was he just dreaming?
after a few seconds of waiting for an answer, you shrugged. "sorry, maybe i mistook you for someone else. anyways..."
the yandere boy still didn't move, with his mouth agape, as you continued on with your show. the people around bayani didn't seem to care, assuming that he was just a starstruck fan. but it was more than that. much more than that.
out of the millions of fans that attend your shows and events, you recognized him among them. you noticed him. and he didn't know how to handle it. what was he supposed to say? what would you even talk about? sure, he's seen all of your interviews and heard your music and dissected your lyrics for hours every single day, but would you ever want to interact with him as much as he wanted to interact with you? he was just a lowlife. he had an average job, average amount of money, he lived in a shitty apartment, and he had no friends or major accomplishments. all of his free time outside of work was spent on you. spent on following your every move and investigating everything you've put your hands on. if you ever spoke to him, you'd probably think he was some sort of pathetic stalker.
that thought drove him mad. he couldn't even focus on the rest of your concert. he didn't hear the blaring music and screams from the crowd. he wasn't paying attention to your performance, either.
he could only stand there and imagine the punishments you'd inflict on him if you found out about his obsession. would you call your security to take him away? he'd hope not. if he's going to be kicked and pushed around, perhaps even handcuffed, he'd rather you do the job rather than some random guard. but maybe he'd accept the punishment, only because you were the one who deemed it necessary. he takes your word like gospel, so he'll take whatever punishment you want, even though he would prefer your hands on him while you do it.
his imagination ran wild as your concert finished and you walked off the stage with your dancers. the crowd of fans in the stadium dispersed around him, moving along with their day. but bayani couldn't just move on with his day knowing that you know he exists now. how is he supposed to simply move on from that? he spent a long time making sure you never noticed him. even though he attended every single one of your concerts and events, he did not want to be noticed. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. but it finally happened. he finally got a taste of what it's like to be seen by the love of his life. he couldn't just leave it at that. he had to do something about it.
being under your gaze, even if it was only a few seconds, made him feel like he went to heaven. it made all of the hundreds of dollars he spent on you worth it. all of the hours he spent listening to your music and watching videos of you was worth it. it was like he awoke from a slumber. a long, miserable slumber. he had to find a way to thank you. say something to you. he messed up when he simply froze after you saw him. who knows when he'll get another chance like that?
it took a few hours for the stadium to be empty, and the security started to shoo bayani away. but when he went outside, the parking lot was still full. your concert ended hours ago, but there was still loads of cars trying to leave. it would be frustrating, but bayani had to find a way out quickly.
he climbed on the back of a nearby truck and rested his legs there, waiting patiently for the vehicle to move out of the traffic. even though he knew the truck wouldn't go anywhere near your mansion, he knew how to get to your house on foot. he only needed to rest on the truck until the traffic was gone.
after a few hours on the road, he jumped out of the vehicle, and started to walk to your mansion on foot. he didn't need to look up the location online, because he already knew where it was. he visited your home many times in the past, he just never attempted to go inside before.
his veins were on fire and he started to sweat the closer he got. he was starting to have second thoughts about his idea. but there was no time to go back, because he already showed up to your house before he could change his plans.
to get inside, he had to climb up a tree, jump off of it, and land in your backyard. he used that trick often in the past, since it was not his first time going to your house. he often snuck on your property to watch or take pictures of you while you slept.
he tried opening your bedroom window, but it was locked. he had to try a different one.
he went over to a window beside your bedroom, and thankfully, it was unlocked. but the moment he opened the window, he heard the sound of water running and your familiar voice humming a song. were you in the shower?
bayani climbed inside as quietly as possible, and closed the window behind him. his suspicions were correct. he was in your bathroom, and you were taking a shower. your curtains covered up your figure, so he couldn't see you.
bayani looked to the side of the room and saw a pile of your dirty clothes on the floor. he ran up to it and immediately took a large whiff at the pile. it smelled divine to him. he couldn't get enough of it. he quickly spotted your used underwear in the pile and snatched it without thinking, then he stuffed it in his pocket. you wouldn't notice, right?
before he could take the rest of your clothes, the water suddenly stopped. bayani ran to hide, in a spot where you couldn't see him but he could see you. you opened the shower curtains and stepped out with a towel in your hands. you were completely naked, and still drenched in water. bayani felt like he died and went to heaven again that day. he couldn't believe what he was seeing. you were completely naked, right in front of his eyes. ignoring the puddle in his pants, he nervously fumbled around his pockets, trying to find his phone. there was no way he could pass up an opportunity like this. without hesitation, he snapped a photo of you.
but he didn't notice that the flash was on.
he froze, and you looked towards him. neither of you said a word, and bayani saw his future flash before his eyes. you would probably scream for security and he would get taken away to prison, never to see your face again. his life would be over.
"you're the guy i've been seeing everywhere, huh?" you whispered.
"...are you going to, uh... send me away?" bayani gulped.
you thought about it for a moment. this guy clearly cared a lot about you, because you saw him literally everywhere you went. no matter what country you visited, he was always there. even if you didn't tell a single soul where you were going, he was somehow always there. you even saw him on your property a few times, so you knew how crazy he was. but you still let him do it. and you never reported him, either. you knew exactly what he wanted. you could always hear him moaning outside your window, knowing he would have one hand down his pants and a camera on the other.
he was cute, so why not have some fun with him?
"come here." you commanded. he followed your order without thinking, immediately falling down to his knees in front of you.
you grabbed his chin, and made him look up at you. he felt hot tears well up in his eyes as you stared him down. he didn't say a word, but you knew exactly what he was thinking.
you pressed your knee against the wet stain on his pants, and he let out a pathetic whimper. he was getting off on it.
he didn't know what to do. his dreams were finally coming true. he got noticed by you, got into your house, saw you naked, and you finally touched him. he was overwhelmed, and started crying. he didn't mean to look so weak in front of you for a first impression, but he couldn't help it. besides, he'd make a fool out of himself any day for you.
"you're so pathetic.. you've been stalking me for so long, and now you break into my house to see me naked. i could call the police and have you arrested..." you whispered, as you started putting more pressure on his crotch, moving your knee up and down on it, and inching your face closer to his.
he sobbed, “please, don't! i promise, it'll never happen again. i'll stop, i'll do whatever you want, i'll-"
you cut him off by connecting your lips to his, setting his heart on fire. you pulled away after a few seconds, leaving him speechless. there's no way you just kissed him. he had to be dreaming.
and then you moved your knee away from his crotch right before he could cum, making him let out a whimper and crumble to the ground.
"thanks for letting me have some fun with you. we can do this again soon.. if you be a good boy and return my underwear." you winked, walking away and leaving bayani a hard, pathetic, leaking mess on your bathroom floor.
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biteyoubiteme · 12 days ago
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black cherry flavored
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ot5 txt x fem!reader
synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?
warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some
wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)
an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]
this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]
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"whats your favorite scary movie?"
You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 
It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  
“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 
“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 
“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 
“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 
“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 
“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 
“I'm just saying…” 
Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 
“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 
The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 
It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 
“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 
“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 
“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 
“No-” 
beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 
“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 
“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 
“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 
“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 
“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 
“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 
“So wrong it would get you killed?” 
“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 
“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 
“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 
“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 
“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 
“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 
“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 
“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 
“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 
“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 
“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 
“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 
“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 
“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 
“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 
“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.
Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 
“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”
Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 
It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  
All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 
As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 
“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 
beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”
“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 
“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 
Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 
You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 
“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 
“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 
“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 
“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 
“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.
“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 
“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 
“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 
“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 
“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 
“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 
A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 
“Next week?” 
It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 
You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 
Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 
The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 
“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.
“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 
“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 
As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 
“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 
“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 
“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 
“They come out here to check too?”
“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 
“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 
He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 
Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 
“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 
“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 
“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 
“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 
It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 
It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 
He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 
You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 
The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.
The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 
He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 
every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 
“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 
You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 
It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 
Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 
it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 
“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 
You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 
Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 
You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 
“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 
No response. 
The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 
In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 
The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 
Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 
“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 
“What's your favorite scary movie?” 
You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 
You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 
He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 
“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 
“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 
“They don't?” 
“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 
“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 
“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 
“I'm not alone, i have you,” 
He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 
“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 
“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 
“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.
Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 
You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 
“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 
You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 
“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 
You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 
He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 
“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 
Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 
You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 
The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 
“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 
“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 
“I know where one is, if you want it,” 
It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 
The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 
You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 
As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 
You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 
But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 
The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 
“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 
It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 
“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 
Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 
You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”
he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 
“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 
“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 
Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 
You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 
“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 
It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 
“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  
“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 
Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 
Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 
“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 
Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 
Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 
“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 
yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 
Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 
But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 
“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 
“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 
“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 
“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 
You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 
Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 
The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  
“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 
Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 
The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 
Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 
Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 
You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 
“No huening please!” 
“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 
“Kai…please!” 
“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 
“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 
“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 
“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 
“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 
Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 
It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 
But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 
When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 
His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 
“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 
It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 
“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 
You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 
You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 
“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 
“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 
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🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3
thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!
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pomefioredove · 20 days ago
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Hi Dove!!! Can I request headcanons of Vil with a reader who decided not to act on their feelings for him (he found out some other way) because they were worried he would brush off their confession as a shallow celebrity crush?
hehe I love a little drama
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ starstruck
type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, not proofread
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Vil had seen that look on your face from the moment your eyes met.
It was flattering. Knowing that he was an ethereal beauty in this world and yours was a compliment you hadn't even known you'd given him.
You were special. In your own right, and to him. You weren't like the others, whose love of him began and ended with his fame. You were his friend. Your love held weight.
Perhaps he had teased you about being starstruck one too many times...
"...I see," he says, fingers curling around the thin piece of notebook paper, as if it was trying to get away from him.
Vil had never looked so... so...
...His look was intense, the corners of his eyes crinkled in thought, his other hand covering the scowl on his perfect lips.
It's your handwriting. There's no doubt about that. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he tears his eyes away from the paper.
"Why did you bring me this?"
Silver looks almost... uncomfortable, out of place, standing in the Pomefiore lounge.
"I... just thought..." he mutters. "...I just thought I was helping."
You are, Vil thinks. More than you know.
"You are dismissed. Send my regards to Malleus. And tell him he has a fine underclassman on his hands,"
Silver's eyes widen, but he doesn't ask about the unexpected praise. He leaves Vil alone with the note, the note in your handwriting. The confession.
How stupid of you, he thinks. How could you think that he wouldn't feel the same...?
The note feels heavier than it should, your words leadened on the delicate paper.
I know you won't reciprocate, it says, I don't expect you to, but I don't want you to think that this is just some celebrity crush...
The rest of the confession is scribbled out, either from frustration, or embarrassment, or...
And it was left in a bin by the stables, where Sebek found it, who gave it to Silver, who gave it to Vil.
Who, now, can't seem to let it go.
.
Vil can't confront you about it like some... boy.
You need delicacy. You need assurance. He's not going to force the confession out of your throat. He doesn't need to.
This isn't about him. Or his ego.
"I'm happy you could find the time to see me. It's been ages since we've gotten together," he says, smoothing the face mask over your cheeks.
"You said you had something important to tell me,"
You speak rather bluntly. He chuckles. He can't tell if that's your nerves, or eagerness, or curiosity. But it's cute.
"I did," he says, and nothing more.
You blink. "...Did something happen?"
Yes, he thinks. "No,"
"...Are you going to tell me?"
"I am. Patience," he says, adding the final touches on your personalized face mask. A formula he made himself.
"Don't talk, or you'll crack it. Five minutes."
You nod, and once he's sure the mask has set, ensuring he'll talk without interruption, he begins.
"I first want you to know that there is nothing you could do that I would resent you for,"
You look like you want to say something, and he tsks, reminding you of the mask.
"...It's true that you annoy me, sometimes, but you should know by now that I find that quite endearing. We've become quite close. Closer than I would have thought. And I could never see you as nothing but a fan. You know you're more than that to me,"
You almost open your mouth, and he holds a finger to your lips with a gentle smile.
"And I have a feeling that I am more to you than a celebrity," he says. "Perhaps even more than a friend."
Finally, you're speechless. His features soften.
"And perhaps I think the same of you... but all I will say, for now, is that if there were anything you wanted to say... well, I've always got a spot open in my schedule for you. Understood?"
After a long moment of silence and staring, you nod. Vil smiles back.
"Good. Time's up. And then it'll be your turn to talk, and mine to listen,"
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endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago
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chemical override (6)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!
To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?
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Some time before August
New York City
The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.
The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.
After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.
The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.
Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."
"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."
"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "
"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"
Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.
"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.
Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.
Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.
Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.
"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.
"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."
Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.
Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.
The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.
"Sir, I - "
"Bruce."
"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."
"Got a partner?"
Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.
"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.
"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."
"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."
Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."
"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."
"I don't need to see - "
"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.
"You want me to hide my relationship?"
"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"
"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."
"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."
"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.
Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.
"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."
Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.
"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."
"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."
There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.
For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.
There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.
"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."
Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"
Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.
But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Near the end of August
Los Angeles
The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.
"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."
You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."
"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"
You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.
"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."
She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."
You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "
"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."
"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."
It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.
"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."
You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"
"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."
"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."
"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."
You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.
Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."
You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.
All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.
Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.
"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.
He loves you. It was true.
Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.
And that was the problem.
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Late September
The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.
The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.
He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.
Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.
It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.
Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.
Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.
And don't think about her.
An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"
Oh fuck.
"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.
"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."
"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."
"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "
"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"
"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.
"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."
"Oh, you log off?"
"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."
"It can get frivolous, can't it?"
Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.
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Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.
Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.
Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.
Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...
You must be on FaceTime everyday!
Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?
Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?
...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.
He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.
He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.
You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.
Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.
The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.
How special is the bond between dragon and rider?
What is a funny moment from set that you can share?
How similar are Aemond and Daemon?
All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.
But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?
"Matthew McConaughey - "
You.
" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "
Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.
" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -
You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.
He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.
" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -
Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?
" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."
"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"
"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."
It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.
Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."
Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"
Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?
"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.
And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -
We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.
He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨
I wonder if she's there behind the scenes
yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!
Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!
Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this
Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.
Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.
All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.
To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.
Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.
Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.
Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!
Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.
He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.
Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.
Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.
He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.
"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."
"I don't need a breather." I need her.
"Ewan - "
His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."
"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."
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October
The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"
It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.
You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.
But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.
And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.
Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.
It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.
Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"
You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.
As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.
Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.
It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.
"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.
"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.
"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."
"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.
The rest of the cast.
"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?
Do they know?
Do they secretly hate you for what you did?
"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.
"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.
"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.
"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.
You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.
They notice.
"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.
Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"So you guys know, huh?"
"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "
"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"
"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."
You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.
Your friends know you too well.
"I... I miss him."
Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.
It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.
You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.
"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."
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November
"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"
Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"
The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.
"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."
"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.
After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.
Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.
They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.
Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.
After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.
"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.
"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.
A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.
Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.
The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.
When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."
Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.
"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"
Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.
While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.
But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.
"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."
Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.
"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?
"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."
"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."
"Is it?"
Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.
Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.
So he says, "She misses you, you know."
Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.
"Let's head back inside."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
December
You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.
Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.
Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.
"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.
"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."
"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."
She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."
"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."
The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.
Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.
"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.
You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."
"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"
"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"
She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."
"Any plans for the night?"
She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."
"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"
"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."
"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.
"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."
The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.
It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.
Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.
"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.
"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"
"Why would I - "
"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.
The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.
The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.
A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.
"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."
"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."
"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."
You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.
"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.
A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.
"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."
"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.
It's what you deserve.
"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.
"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
"I... I can leave if you want - "
"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."
You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.
And he is making you pay for it now.
But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."
Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.
Stay, he asked. So you do.
It's what you should have done, months ago.
"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.
The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.
The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.
"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."
"Feels like a lifetime."
He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"
"How... how can you even ask me that?"
"How can I - "
"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.
"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."
"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.
"Like I said - nothing to fight for."
"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."
"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"
"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.
"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."
"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"
"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."
"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.
The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.
"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"
Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.
Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.
You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.
"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."
"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."
"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."
Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.
How desperately you want it to be true.
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An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?
But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.
Someone familiar to you.
And it's him.
"Ewan?"
"I need to speak with you."
You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.
You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.
When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.
"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."
"I'm sorry - "
"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"
"Ewan, I don't under - "
"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."
"You're kidding."
He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."
His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.
You'll be using each other.
You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?
What, except for him, and for good this time?
What, except everything?
"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"
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💌 next chapter
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Some notes in the margins...
Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!
The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk
So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.
Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕
715 notes · View notes
inuyashaluver · 2 months ago
Note
Firstly wanted to say thank you for your fics, they NEVER disappoint 🫶
And I wanted to request something with Grace Clinton, maybe a soft/hard launch with a non-footballer gf?
girlfriend - grace clinton
grace clinton x reader
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description: in which your girlfriend is tired of keeping the love of her life a secret, thus, you get a special invitation to her debut with her national team
warnings: nothing really!! not proofread because its me
a/n: STOPPP, thank you so much for the love and support you are so incredibly sweet, please enjoyyyyy, i'm rusty like don't mind me AHHAHAH, clearing out my drafts and requests as we speak!!
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you and your girlfriend, grace, long story short are soulmates. you have known grace pretty much your entire life and have never felt such a huge amount of love for anyone as much as you did with her. 
grace has always been in love with you, she doesn’t remember a time where she hasn’t been. and that just sums up your entire relationship, completely and utterly in love.
you and grace have known each other ever since you were 7. you were both placed in the same class at school, grace known for her class clown personality while you just smiled at her antics while working on your studies.
you two gravitated towards each other quicker than ever expected, being the best of friends until you were both 17 and grace finally asked you to be her girlfriend. an absolute surprise to not only the both of you, but everyone else around you. 
while grace was playing football, you were her biggest cheerleader on the side, her ‘lucky charm’ as she loved to call you. you did absolutely everything together, the best partner for life.
in your adult lives, you moved in together, grace playing football while you were in veterinarian school. it worked so well, it was so effortless, so easy and it was absolutely the best.
you had the privilege of being able to travel around the uk as grace joined different clubs, and grace was so incredibly grateful for you. 
something to know about your girlfriend, she was incredibly private. grace hated the thought of you being a secret but she was so protective.
she often had nightmares of you being found by crazy friends and getting harassed, and that was why she kept you private. her work and social life completely separate.
you didn’t mind it, you and grace were secure amongst yoursleves and within your relationship to not find it offensive. you both loved each other and that was all that really mattered.
all her teammates, your friends and family knew about your relationship and knew how much you meant to each other, and that was enough for both of you.
there were subtle hints here and there, people knew grace had a partner, she just didn’t want to give anyone details. both of your instagrams had soft hints towards your relationship, but nothing too obvious or completely out there.
you would come to every match without fail, always waiting for her at the end of the match.
she spots you sitting in the stands, clad in her jersey with a proud smile on your face as you watched her sign things and take photos with fans. she felt herself grow shy at the pure look of admiration on your face.
when people began to leave, she smiles over at you, you smile at the girl, nodding your head flirtily as she gave you a cheeky wave with a wink.
she gestures to the tunnel, meaning to follow her to the back later on. you nod, laughing at her cheeky antics, you pucker your lips up jokingly and she rolls her finger in a circle to hint for you to hurry up so she could say hello.
you wait for her in the carpark, perched up against your shared car, she rushes out excitedly, clearly out of breath but she smiles so brightly when she sees you, her most favourite person in the entire world.
you open your arms out to her expectantly and she walks into them with a relieved breath, hugging you around the middle tightly.
“hi, baby” she whispered in your ear, her lips giving you a subtle kiss on the shell of your ear. “hi, gracie girl”, you chuckle, rubbing your hands up and down her back before you pulled apart, puckering your lips up at her teasingly. she smirks, her hand cupping the underside of your jaw to pull you into a loving kiss. 
“i missed you” she breathes out against your lips, you smile, pecking them, “i missed you too, baby, two hours is way too long” you chuckle mockingly, kissing her a little longer this time.
she smiles in the kiss, drawing you in closer with her hands on your waist, “two hours felt like two days” she mocks, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as she walked you to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for you and closing it once you were seated.
“you played so well today, gracie baby” you smile at her when she puts her seatbelt on, she grins so sheepishly, cheeks pink no matter the time or place when it came to you.
“cause you were there” she shakes her head in your face, kissing your lips tenderly before she grabbed your hand to hold as she drove.
when grace got transferred to tottenham, things fast tracked. 
“baby, it’s only fair” grace groans, flopped on top of you as you were under the covers in the early hours of the morning. “gracie, i love you, but please, no” you beg, speaking up from under the blanket.
she sighs, smushing her face into your stomach over the blanket, “babe!” she yells, muffled by the blankets, you rip the blankets off your face, giving her your best scowl when she looked up at you from the movement.
“please, no, it’s too early” you exclaim, grace smiles at you, clearly amused by your attempt at anger on your features. “you got to pick dinner, and the movie last night” grace reminds, “i knew you let me pick because you wanted something,” you tutt, shaking your head.
she gasps, her hand clutching her chest, “i would do no such thing!” she moves up to straddle your waist as you hold yourself up by your elbows.
“my ass” you whisper, letting your girlfriend press a sweet kiss to your lips, “please” she pouts. her hands moving the blanket off you to hold your waist, kissing you again. you hum against her, clearly her little plan had worked.
“please come to training” she whispers, her words fluttering over your lips. you roll your eyes fondly, nodding and letting your girlfriend kiss your cheeks repeatedly, pulling you up from the bed excitedly.
the girl had already picked out your clothes, that’s how confident she was that she could get you to come to training with her. her separation anxiety was real.
you laugh when you see the ‘clinton’ hoodie on the top of the pile of clothes, shaking your head but putting it on anyway.
and when you both arrived at training, and you were seen in the training video wearing that hoodie, the questions and speculation were growing tenfold. who was this girl grace brought to training?
you and grace had been chatting after all the bombarding questions reached both of your phones. and you both decided, maybe it was time to put your relationship out in the open. although you both had your worries, you just didn’t want to hide anymore. 
and so after careful deliberation, you and grace would make your relationship official in her debut match for the senior lioness team.
grace was so jittery in her hotel room this morning, aggie had to message you that your girlfriend was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. you call her and she picks up a couple seconds after you press the call button.
“baby” she breathes out, clutching onto the phone as she talked to you, “hi, babe, you okay?” you ask her, phone on speaker as you get ready for the game. “i’m okay, just nervous” you hum at her words, “and that’s okay, baby” you remind her and she instantly calms down.
“yeah, i know” she sighs, “i miss you, i can’t wait to see you tonight” she grins, fiddling with the ends of her shorts. you giggle into the phone, “i miss you too baby, i’m very excited to see you” you both chatter back and forth before you hung up.
“i better see clinton on your back, babe, i love you!” she calls out into the phone before she hangs up, getting rushed onto the bus. you laugh, already wearing the england jersey with your girl’s name on the back. like you were a rooke, tsk.
you sat with her family in the stands, understanding why grace was so jittery. you watch her train and she looks pale, there’s so much riding on this. she wants to do well, she needs to do well. she needs to impress you.
she waves at you shyly when she spots you, you smile at her brightly, holding your hands up in a heart shape to make her giggle, and it thankfully works. she mimics your gesture, making you giggle as well. you both calmed down after that.
the match concludes and she does extremely well, the look of pride on both of your faces was infectious. you cheer loudly when they do a lap of appreciation. and like usual, when she completes her signatures and pictures and walks over to the friends and family section. 
she smiles up at you from the bottom of the pitch, ushering with her hand to come down to where she was.
you smile at her shyly, walking around others to reach her, and when you do, you don't think you’ve ever seen her smile so brightly. “hello, beautiful” she pulls you in by your waste to hug you tenderly, kissing your cheek before she rests her head on your shoulder to feel closer to you. 
“hi, superstar” you hug her tightly, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care. she pulls back to look at you, to really look at you. she may have just debut and reached one of biggest goals of her life, but you’re really the best achievement in her life.
“you’re sure about this?” grace questions, eyes flickering between your own in concern, you smile softly, brushing a stray hair from her forehead and tucking it tenderly behind her ear.
“i’m sure, lovey” she smiles at your words, breathing out happily as she took in your appearance before she placed her hand onto your jaw.
she pulls you into a soft kiss, tame for the public but so incredibly meaningful. you hear the distant cheering of everyone, but it's drowned out with feeling grace’s lips move with yours. it lasts for a couple seconds before she pulls away, resting her forehead on yours.
both of you smile, holding each other tightly, slightly in shock that you were both now official to the public. “finally” she teases, pinching your hip, you laugh, hitting her arm softly before leaning in to peck her lips.
you both see people holding up phones, chattering and talking about the two of you but you both really didn’t care. you had each other and that is all that matters.
though, what you both didn’t expect was the overwhelming amount of support you both gained out of this. the worry was honestly for nothing.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily celin
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graceclinton_x: she's a big softy
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yourname: says you!!
↳ graceclinton_x: yeah, yeah!
alessia: can confirm grace is more soft
↳ ellatoone: confirmed!
↳ aggiebjones: confirmed!
↳ mayaletissier: confirmed!
↳ graceclinton_x: thanks guys.
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harrysfolklore · 15 days ago
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we need a fic about carlos’ win and piastri sisters’ reaction to it
THE LITTLE BITCH WON 🥺 ahhh im so happy for carlos, i had to write this ! i hope yo like thisss
READ LITTLE BITCH HERE
The Mexico City sunrise painted the sky as you and Carlos made your way to the track. He'd been unusually quiet during breakfast, that focused energy already building.
"Nervous?" you asked, squeezing his hand as your driver navigated through the early morning traffic.
"No," he said automatically, then caught your knowing look. "Maybe a little. Starting from pole here… the run to Turn 1 is so long."
"You've got this," you brought his hand to your lips.
"Max will be aggressive-"
"And you'll handle it," you cut him off. "Like the little bitch you are."
That broke his tension, making him laugh. "How do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me feel better by insulting me."
"It's a gift," you grinned. "Now stop overthinking and kiss me before we get to the track and you go all serious racing driver on me."
He obliged, one hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you close. The kiss was deep and slow, full of everything he wasn't saying.
When you pulled back, his brown eyes locked into yours, a soft edge on them that made you melt.
It was hard to think that those same eyes glared you across the paddock once and now you were about to complete five months of being his girlfriend.
When you arrived at Ferrari, Reyes and Carlos Sr. were already there. Reyes pulled you into a warm hug while Carlos got swept up in pre-race preparations.
"My girl," she kissed both your cheeks. "You look beautiful today."
"Thank you, Reyes," you said, squeezing her hands before your eyes unconsciously drifted to the McLaren area.
"You're going to check on your brother?" she asked knowingly.
"Am I that predictable?"
"No, mi amor. Just a good sister."
You couldn't help but smile at that. Over the months you've slowly learned to not feel like you needed to choose between Carlos and Oscar, it was a slow process but their support made it easier.
You found Carlos doing his final preparations. "I'm going to check on Osc for a bit.”
He nodded, already half in race mode. "Tell him I said he's got this. The McLaren's race pace looked good."
"I will," you kissed his cheek. "See you on the podium, little bitch."
His engineer snorted, trying to cover it with a cough.
The walk to McLaren was filled with nervous energy. Early fans were already filling the grandstands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation.
The McLaren garage was quieter than Ferrari, the mood still heavy from yesterday's qualifying. You found Oscar in his driver room, staring intently at track maps.
"Brought you coffee," you held out his favorite pre-race drink. "And Carlos says your race pace looked good."
"Thanks," he took the cup but didn't meet your eyes. "For both."
You sat beside him, studying his face. "Talk to me, Osc. What's really going on?"
He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer.
"I just..." he set down the coffee, running both hands through his hair. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for this. Like everyone made a mistake choosing me."
Your heart broke. "Oscar..."
"And I know it's stupid. I know I've earned my place here, but days like yesterday... it just brings all those doubts back."
"Look at me," you waited until he met your eyes. "Do you remember when you were ten, and you came home crying because some kid said you'd never make it to F1?"
A small smile tugged at his lips. "And you made him eat dirt at school the next day."
"Exactly. And what did I tell you then?"
"That I was meant for this," his voice softened. "That you could see it in the way I drove, even in karts."
"And has that changed?"
"No, but-"
"No buts," you took his hands. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be, Oscar Piastri. Bad qualifyings don't change that. Bad races don't change that. You're my little brother, and I've never been wrong about you."
He squeezed your hands. "How do you always know what to say?"
"Big sister superpower," you kissed his forehead. "Now drink your coffee and show them what you can do from P17.”
“Thank you, sister,” he squeezed your shoulder, “Now go back to your man, he’s driving like a beast this weekend.”
When you returned to Ferrari, the pre-race energy was at its peak. Carlos was in his final preparations, but his eyes found yours immediately.
"Oscar okay?" he mouthed.
You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Another side effect of your relationship was that Oscar and Carlos became closer than ever. Oscar looked up to him and Carlos grew so fond of him that he cared about him like an older brother.
It was something not even in your wildest dreams would make sense a year ago. But right now felt like the perfect dynamic.
The garage began clearing for the grid walk. Carlos pulled you aside quickly.
"Para suerte," he murmured, kissing you deeply.
"Little bitch," you whispered against his lips. "Go win this thing."
Reyes and Carlos Sr. were waiting in the garage, both greeting you with warm hugs as you settled in to watch the start.
"Nervous?" Reyes asked, taking your hand.
"Always," you admitted. "For both of them."
The formation lap began, your heart pounding as you watched Carlos lead the field around. The ambient temperature was rising, making tire management crucial.
"He's got this," Carlos Sr. said confidently. "Look how smooth his formation lap is."
The garage fell silent as five red lights appeared above the start line. Your hand found Reyes', both of you holding your breath. The Mexican heat was stifling, but you barely noticed, every nerve focused on the Ferrari at the front of the grid.
"Vamos, hijo," Carlos Sr. whispered, his usual composed demeanor cracking with nervous energy.
The lights went out, and twenty cars launched forward into the long run to Turn 1. Carlos got a perfect start, but Max's Red Bull was immediately in his slipstream, the blue car looming in Carlos's mirrors. Side by side they went into the first corner, neither giving an inch.
"Come on, come on," you whispered, unconsciously leaning forward.
Carlos held firm on the inside line, forcing Max to take the longer way around. Through Turn 2, the Ferrari emerged still leading, and the garage erupted. Engineers who usually maintained professional calm were jumping up and down.
"Tranquila, mi amor," Reyes squeezed your hand. "Look how controlled he is."
The pit stop window approached, tension ratcheting up. Ferrari brought Charles in first, the stop clean but nerve-wracking.
"Pushing too hard on those tires," Carlos Sr. observed as Carlos finally pitted.
When Carlos crossed the finish line first, the garage exploded. You hugged Reyes, both of you crying and laughing. Carlos Sr. wrapped you both in a bear hug, his usual composure forgotten as he shouted "¡Vamos!" repeatedly.
Through happy tears, you saw Carlos pump his fist as he drove past, and you couldn't be happier for him.
The podium ceremony felt eternal. When they finally played the Spanish anthem, you saw Carlos's eyes glistening as he sang along. He caught your gaze in the crowd and winked, making your heart flutter just like it did that first time you saw him win in Australia.
Back then, you tried to play it cool, like you didn't care that he won. But right now the story was completely different.
After the ceremonies and media obligations, Carlos finally made it back to the team. He lifted you off your feet the moment he saw you, spinning you around as you laughed.
"Mi amor," he breathed against your lips before kissing you deeply.
"My champion," you whispered back. "My little bitch."
He laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "Only yours."
Carlos received hugs, cheers and champagne showers from friends, team members and family. After taking some photos and watching him complete more interviews, it was time to head out and celebrate.
"I'm going to check on Oscar one more time," you told Carlos, as you walked through the paddock.
"Tell him to come to dinner," Carlos said. "He drove well today, P8 from P17."
You found Oscar in the McLaren garage, already changed and packing up.
"Hey champ," you smiled. "Coming to dinner with us?"
He gave you a small smile back. "Think I'll pass tonight. Bit tired, and…" he paused. "Just want some quiet, you know?"
You studied his face. "You sure? Carlos specifically asked for you to come."
"I know, and tell him thanks," Oscar squeezed your hand. "But you guys should celebrate properly. I'm good, really. Just going to order room service and study the race data."
You pulled him into a hug. "You drove amazingly today. P8 from P17 is no joke."
"Thanks, sis," he hugged you back tight. "Go celebrate with your winner. Just... maybe not too loudly in the hotel? The walls are thin."
"OSCAR!"
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ynpiastri MY LITTLE CHAMPION BITCH 🥲🥲 i’m SO proud of you mi amor, we all are. one more win this season showing everyone the talented driver that you are. the best is yet to come ❤️
also beyond proud of my baby brother as always, your determination and ability to push through every setback never ceases to amaze me. chin up, i know you got this
oh and lando got p2 i guess
GRACIAS MEXICO CITY 😩
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username1 AHHHH
username2 SIMP PIASTRI
username3 this is still wild to me they used to hate each other’s guts
scuderiaferarri ❤️
username4 this is wild bc she hated him when he won in australia 😭
nicolepiastri Congrats Carlos! Come visit and bring embarrassing stories of my daughter please
↳ ynpiastri MUM😩
↳ username1 she’s an icon
reyesvdec Te amamos ❤️
↳ username2 the sainz love her so much i could cry
username5 HELP THE LINE ABOUT LANDO 😭
oscarpiastri Love you sis. Congrats to Carlos ❤️
↳ carlossainz55 Thank you brother
↳ username2 this would send 2023 me into a coma
↳ username3 THIS PLOT TWIST
carlossainz55 Te amo
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At the restaurant, Lando was the only driver who joined your celebration with the Sainz family. He fit right in, making everyone laugh with stories about Carlos.
"You know," Lando said, taking a sip of wine, "I used to be Reyes and Carlos Sr.'s favorite adopted son."
"Used to be?" you raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, then you came along with your whole enemies-to-lovers storyline and stole my spot," he pouted dramatically. "Now I'm like the forgotten middle child."
"Ay, Lando," Reyes laughed, reaching over to pat his cheek. "You're still our favorite British son."
"Small comfort when YN gets all the good Spanish mom cooking," Lando grumbled good-naturedly.
After dinner, it was time for the party celebrating Carlos' win. He claimed that he didn't want to drink much, but that went out the window when his friends lifted him up as 'Smooth Operator' played.
"SMOOTH OPERATOOOOR!" they sang terribly off-key. Carlos was laughing, one hand clutching his drink, the other reaching for you.
"Join me up here, mi amor!"
"Absolutely not," you called back, but you were laughing too.
Hours later, the celebrations were winding down. You stood outside waiting for your car, Carlos' arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. The Mexico City air was cooler now, but his warmth kept you comfortable.
"I still can't believe it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Second win this season."
You turned in his arms to face him, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. The victory high was still there, mixed with the pleasant buzz from the celebrations.
"You know what's different this time?" you asked, playing with the collar of his shirt.
"Hmm?"
"I don't have to pretend I'm not happy for you," you smiled, remembering Australia. "Don't have to hide how proud I am."
His eyes softened as he pulled you closer. "You were terrible at hiding it even then."
"I was not!"
"Mi amor," he laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "You called me 'little bitch' with way too much affection."
"That was pure hatred," you protested weakly.
"Sure it was," he grinned. "Just like when you stared at me during the podium ceremony."
"I was plotting your demise."
"With heart eyes?"
"Shut up," you buried your face in his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter.
"Never," he kissed the top of your head. "I love reminding you how bad you were at hating me."
"I'm starting to hate you again right now."
"No you're not," he tilted your chin up, eyes twinkling. "You love me."
Before you could retort, the car pulled up. As you settled into the backseat, Carlos pulled you close again.
"For the record," he whispered in your ear, "I was terrible at pretending too. Ask Charles - he said I talked about you constantly."
"To complain?"
"That's what I told myself," he smiled against your hair. "But I think everyone knew better."
You intertwined your fingers with his, watching the city lights blur past. "We were kind of idiots, weren't we?"
"The biggest," he agreed. "But we figured it out eventually."
"Yeah," you turned to kiss him softly. "We did."
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desperatelyseekingcannibals · 5 months ago
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Telling Hugh Dancy about trans masc Will and more...
As some of you already know by now, I went to Boston Fanexpo this past weekend for another stop on the unofficial Hannibal 2024 Reunion Tour.
I had planned to do autographs on the Friday before the Hannibal panel and had brought some gifts for Hugh which included a copy of Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal, which I compiled and edited last year. I also got him to sign my own copy (above).
It all moved quite quickly, but I did have the chance to explain that it's a volume by and about trans, non-binary, and genderqueer Fannibals that includes art, fics, essays, and personal pieces. He seemed intrigued and I said I hope he'd have the chance to read it and that the art isn't explicit/sexual but some of the fics are - he laughed and said he appreciated the warning.
It was all quite the whirlwind, especially after coming all the way from the UK, so I was absolutely mortified when I remembered the next morning that I had talked with a few trans Fannibals who had specifically asked me to let him know that he/Will is a trans icon. So I went back up to see him again on the Saturday morning when it wasn't too busy (and get more stuff signed) and this is what happened:
[I wrote notes down right after so this is as close an account I can get without having filmed it!].
Me: I saw you yesterday Hugh: I remember (smiley-friendly) Me: I gave you a book Hugh: I remember (smiley-friendly) Me: well, I forgot to tell you. A few trans Fannibals reached out to me to tell you that Will is a trans icon to them and we all love you for it. Hugh was surprised (in a nice way) and I was pretty much going to walk away then - job done and feeling like time for me to stop bothering Hugh lol. But before I could walk away he sort of held out his hand to stop me and said something along the lines of - I don't mean this in a disrespectful way, don't take it the wrong way... I'm genuinely curious- I get that it can be about identity- but what is the connection to Will and being trans? Luckily - my essay in the book is exactly about how Will can be read as trans, so I sort of gave him a summary of that. I explained that (obviously) both Will and Hannibal can be read as queer, and that - especially as both characters have dominant masculine and feminine traits, it's also easy to read them both as trans or in some way genderqueer. He was nodding and agreeing, so I further explained that with Hannibal, he is fully formed - he's already whatever he is - which Hugh also agreed with. But that Will is still becoming, still transitioning and therefore can be more relatable to trans fans who see that journey in themselves. So although it's not necessarily the same journey - there is enough to it that it resonates with trans people. I said that in the show there is also the added bonus of Will being seen and accepted for who he is, just as trans people wish to be. He was nodding along and agreeing with me and then he thanked me for explaining that. It was pretty quiet previously but I'd been there a few minutes so the queue was building up a little but he was so focused on me - so genuinely intent on hearing what I had to say and learning more. SO I CARRIED ON. (lols) I explained to him that it goes further than the show, that we have found a community in the fandom and that many trans people have a catalyst in their life that sparks their journey - like Will had in his friendship with Hannibal. For us it might be a person, an event, or even a TV show. I explained how the fandom are so supportive of trans people - that we are SEEN. That I for one wouldn't have been able to afford top surgery without the kind donations of Fannibals back when I was not in a good place (mentally or financially). That we all help each other and for some of us that has been life-saving. He did the hand on heart thing and said "wow" and was clearly moved. I said to him that so much of this is in the book, that I completely understand if he doesn't want to read the fanfic, but I really hope that he will at least read each of the personal pieces - that each of the fics and art also have a little write up from their creator about what the show and/or fandom has meant to them and their gender journey - how important this has been in our lives. He repeated a couple of times that he would definitely read it. I thanked him and he held out his hand and gave me the most genuine hand shake I've had in my life.
I want to really stress here how much this was instigated by Hugh. That he really wanted to know more and understand and didn't even look at the slowly growing queue but was instead intently focused on knowing more about the trans Fannibals and about why this show and the characters mean so much to us.
I then went off and spoke with a few Fannibal friends in the queue before getting around the corner to another Fannibal friend and having a bit of an emotional moment/breakdown. I can't even explain how grateful I am that he gave me the opportunity to explain all this to him. And I was especially glad I got to tell that Will is a trans icon because I'd have felt terrible if I'd have not done that after people had asked!! Thank you for trusting me to pass that message on for you!
💖
I know for many of you Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal might have gone a little under the radar. So here is some more about that >>
It was compiled last year for Trans Hanni Day, edited by Max Turner of (and in conjunction with) A Coup of Owls Press - and published under Max's ACoO imprint.
It features essays, personal pieces, fanart and fanfic by and about trans, non-binary, genderqueer and otherwise non-cis Fannibals.
IT IS FREE TO DOWNLOAD, however we ask that if you do that, please consider donating to one of the linked trans orgs if you can afford to (or a similar organisation/charity of your choice).
It can be purchased on Amazon, however, as the proceeds go to charity, and Amazon only gives royalties, more is earned/given if bought directly via Max's shop.
Dearest trans Fannibals, please know that YOU ARE SEEN!
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