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#this post isn’t going to make any sense in the morning is it
wildmrmix · 1 day
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12:30 I’m here to spread some Curly Johnny Ponyboy friendship based on what I used to do with old friends.
They’re all pretty chill with affection, especially with those they’re comfortable with. So sometimes they’ll go down to the lot and Ponyboy will lean against Johnny, and Curly will just… stand there before eventually sitting on Pb’s other side and very slowly start to lean against him as well (he will deny purposefully initiating any kind of affection till his last breath). And then they all just talk absolute trash about people. 3 boys alone for hours what will they do: make fun of people. Sometimes it’s strangers, sometimes it’s people from their school, sometimes it’s other buddies; nobody’s safe.
Sometimes Curly’ll come by the lot just to see if Ponyboy’s there yet, though he doesn’t just ditch if it’s only Johnny. I mean, he did, but then it got kind of weird to interact with the guy you very obviously ignored a handful of times. Those two are awkward as hell without Ponyboy being their middle ground in conversations, but they become actually acquainted with the other through these accidental lot-meetups. At least, as much as you can with how quiet Johnny is
On weekends, sometimes they try to push the curfew and go out to places like the Dingo, or the park, or sometimes they simply walk around for a while after dark. They make fun of and poke at and tease each other, sometimes giving out stupid dares just for laughs. And sometimes they will all just sit and smoke, ranting about their problems not because they’re inherently overwhelming at the moment, but because the others will listen.
During lunch periods, if Curly’s set on the idea enough, he’ll get Ponyboy and Johnny to ditch for a bit and they go off behind the school building to waste the period away. One time they walked off and found a storage/ water tank some ways away and they climbed onto it. Curly lost a ring on it and they ended up spending the rest of their time there trying and failing to find and grab it.
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anguis-sapphire · 2 years
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Hmmmmm..
names..
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ode2rin · 9 months
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all my flaws
pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader
genre. post-argument fluff | suggestive themes | established relationship | new boyfriend!rin 
content/warnings. 2k+ wc | characters are in their 20s ! | pro-athlete!rin | making out | narration heavy! | profanity | minimal proofread (me and my word vomit) | it’s like a new installment of this rin
in which: people say new relationships supposedly need a breakthrough fight to level up, but rin swears he would rather go through hell than do this again.
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Your first fight as a couple freaked Rin out, even though he appeared stoic during the argument.
In the heat of the moment, Rin abruptly left your apartment, not uttering a word. Instead, he left you with a lingering glance filled with apathy—a look he'd never cast upon you before. His eyes turned void once again, when you were just getting used to it being bright and free.
What began as a simple disagreement, like any other couple's quarrel, escalated into rhetorical questions, accusing tones, and suddenly, it was him against you.
Silently, he rose from his seat, walked to the door, and vanished like a shadow that had never existed. To Rin, it felt like the right thing to do. You can't leave him if he does it first, he convinced himself. A twisted logic, fueled by emotions creeping from his past.
Yet apparently, his logic seems to be in total shambles when mixed and driven by emotions concerning you, because ten minutes later down the road, he wanted nothing more but to turn the car around.
Even so, in Rin’s true self-sabotaging fashion, he refrained. Because he’s awful, selfish, and couldn’t even fix insignificant arguments like a normal person would. Convinced of his own flaws, he believed you shouldn’t be with him— shouldn’t give him that chance after all.
The next thing he knew, the ten minutes he could’ve made to retreat back and apologize turned into 27 hours and 48 minutes of misery, spent in non-speaking terms with you.
It sucks. Everything sucks.
That night, he slept in his own bed. The next day, the in denial and emotionally constipated side of him made himself believe that the expensive yet seemingly useless mattress felt responsible for the raging tension in his shoulders and back. Of course it wasn't because of the absence of your messages or the unfamiliarity of his own bed. Of course, it’s the bed’s fault.
Life isn’t what it used to be. The sun didn't shine properly if it didn't come through the window of your room he spent the night in, his usual protein drink tasted like absolute shit because you didn’t make it for him, and not to mention the lack of cuddles before he gets up in the morning— it was bound to be the worst day of his life ever since you happened.
To make things even worse, he’s disassociating in practice, even missing a goal making everyone stop in their tracks. It was an unusual sight, Itoshi Rin doesn’t miss, after all. 
He was acting so gloomy that Bachira even pointed out how there’s a storm cloud looming over his head. A statement that earned a curt ‘fuck off, bobcut’ from the striker.
Meanwhile, Isagi took a more rational approach of expressing his concern toward his friend’s atypical behavior by taking out his phone and sending you a message.
Isagi: Did something happen between you and Rin? He's being tenfold more insufferable. [1:13 pm] Isagi: Please do something about this. - Chigiri [1:15 pm]
On the receiving end of these messages, you couldn't help but admit to yourself that you felt a peculiar sense of relief, knowing Rin was grappling with the same turmoil after he left.
You'd had your share of arguments before—petty disagreements that were easier to fix due to forced proximity. It was simpler when you were obligated to walk together on the way home from school; otherwise, he would stand in the same spot outside your classroom if you decided to be petty and ignore him. Annoyed but still caring, he insisted on confirming you got home safely, reasoning that your houses were next to each other.
Rin was still hard-headed, much like all these years. A testament to this was his silence over the past 24 hours.
Reading Isagi’s text messages once more, you let out a sigh and made up your mind – you will force him to fix things with you. You will express your displeasure at his abrupt departure, insist he not repeat it if he wants to do this right with you, and convey that it should always be the two of you against any problem.
It might be a blow to your pride to give in first, but it is what the two of you needed. It is what he needed. 
It just happened that you loved that man enough to provide what he needed, despite all flaws.
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A day of missing you must have driven him to hallucinate, Rin concludes. You, perched on his couch, delicately peeling oranges and chuckling at a whimsical show on the screen, are just a hallucination.
“You’re home.”
And would you look at that, hallucinations even speak.
From your vantage point, Rin looks like he's seen a ghost greeting him with his unblinking teal orbs and brows slightly arching upwards. You notice the subtle tightening of his grip on the strap of his gym bag as he takes measured steps towards you, as though cautiously approaching a dream he fears might dissipate.
“Rin?” you whisper in confusion. It was meek, barely a whisper of his name, yet it was all that he needed to close the gap between you in mere seconds.
You gape at him from how determined his strides were. Surprise is instantly replaced by warmth as your lover basically throws himself over you for a well-sought embrace the moment you're within his arms’ reach.
You’re real, and you’re here.
And he can’t even begin to tell you how much tension finally left his body with that realization.
“I thought…” he trails off, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
As shallow as one might say, each passing hour of being away from you has fully convinced Rin that it might have been the end to what the two of you had.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” you whisper softly in his ear, your fingers finding solace in the familiar texture of Rin’s hair, tenderly tracing paths down to his nape. Rin responds with a gentle kiss along the side of your neck, a silent affirmation of his gratitude for the comforting gesture.
Unspoken sentiments hang in the air, but neither of you feels the need to verbalize them just yet. The minutes stretch, and you both savor each other’s warmth that has been sorely missed.
As minutes gracefully slipped away, you initiated the release from his embrace, much to his chagrin. Rin openly displayed his disapproval by gently yet firmly wrapping his arms around you. But you were resolute in your purpose and slightly pushed him back.
“Have you eaten?” you ask, holding his face to look at you.
“No.”
“I’ll make you some food, then. Stay here.”
Before your intentions could take you to the kitchen, Rin pulled you back making you fall back to his lap. “don’t want you to go,” he confessed.
“But dinner–”
“No.”
“No? You don’t want to eat?”
“No,” he firmly replied, “Later. I want to hold you first.”
You didn’t respond to Rin, and just took it upon yourself to make yourself more accessible for him to hold by facing him while still seated in his lap. The shift in position sent a shiver of anticipation through both of you, and Rin, consumed by the moment, reveled in the exquisite sensation of your body pressed closely against his.
Slowly, his fingers reached the side of your jaw, tracing and guiding you closer to meet him halfway. With closed eyes, you felt his lips approaching, delicately and purposefully, until his lips were a breath away from yours. The distance between your lips diminished as Rin closed in, capturing your mouth in a sweet, lingering surrender. 
Rin’s strong hands explored every inch of you it could reach. You felt his touch on your neck, shoulders, down to your thighs. The teasing fingers paid extra attention to your waist, their grip subtly teasing the hem of your shirt. You melt into him more when you feel said teasing hands slide inside.
He was everywhere— your mind, your body, your very soul. Rin had them well occupied with all of him.
A soft gasp escapes you when he nips the familiar spot on your neck just below your ear, each kiss that follows tracing a path to your collarbones. Another gasp, louder this time, as Rin gently sucked the skin beneath your collarbones, mending the sweet sting with his feather-light kisses.
It was getting harder to think when a feeling of desire ran from your chest down toward your inner thigh from how impossibly hot Rin’s lips were consuming you.
And just when you thought he had had enough of you, Rin’s hand once again cradled your jaw, guiding your gaze to meet his. Shivers danced down your spine as you absorbed the sight of his half-lidded, glossy teal eyes.
“I need you, baby,” he breathed, “please.”
It seemed as though there was a lot to make up for in the past twenty-four hours that he couldn't hold you.
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You stirred from your sleep to the sensation of lingering kisses scattered from your forehead down to your jaw.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you found your lover gazing at you with those bright and free teal eyes, and you swore you never had a better way to start the day than this.
A smile graced your lips as you prepared to reciprocate the affection, intending to reach for him and plant a kiss on his jaw. However, your gesture was momentarily halted by his unexpected outburst.
“I love you.”
Professing to you used to terrify Rin – it used to knock all the air from his lungs and make the room seem so small. Now, with a few years ahead to gather enough backbone to escape the misery of pining, professing to you— loving you, felt as easy and natural as breathing.
And he hoped, with every beat of his heart against yours, that he would be breathing just fine in the many years to come.
“I love you,” he tells you again. Just for good measure, to ensure you heard him right, and just to make sure you know he does love you.
You heard him well. His words were clear enough, and the rapid beating of his heart against yours was loud enough to attest.
“Say it back, please,” he pleaded against the soft skin of your neck.
“I love you, Rin.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
He offered no verbal response, but a palpable sigh of relief emanated from him. For a man of few words, he sure does need a lot to feel better.
His warm breath lingered on your skin as a brief silence enveloped you both. Then, with a deliberate yet gentle gesture, he gathered both your arms, placing them above his shoulders, and pulled you closer by your thigh, guiding it above his own.
He loved holding you this way. He wasn’t a big believer, but he wondered if this, right here, was the closest he would ever come to heaven.
“But we have to unlearn those bad habits, Rin,” you asserted, your voice carrying a firm resolve, “No more leaving. We will sit through it, and we will talk, baby.”
Rin’s arms around your waist tightened, as if silently acknowledging your words. You knew he was listening— Rin could be hard headed and all, but he always listened. To you, and only you, that is. 
Minutes passed in silent communion, the world outside fading away as you and Rin held each other. Eventually, drowsiness began to cast its gentle veil over your senses. You couldn't tell if Rin had fallen asleep because his face was buried in the curve of your neck, hiding away in your scent. Yet, the soft and steady rhythm of his breath made you think so.
As you closed your eyes, allowing the realm of dreams to envelop you, Rin’s voice, muffled and quiet, broke the silence.
“Are we going to be fine?”
Barely audible, his question carried a hint of hesitation. And perhaps, if you listen a little closer, you could almost hear the 11-year-old Rin behind his lucid words.
Lucky for him, you had known that little boy throughout your life, enough to love him just as he needed, despite all flaws.
“We will be.”
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note. hi, my life ain't life-ing lately soooo here !! i hope all of you are fine and having a blast. but if you aren’t, i’m sending you all of my love. we’ll have better days ahead, trust 🤞🏻
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mysumeow · 4 months
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. . . ꒰ TEMPTING
Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PIV unprotected sex, edging, prone bone position, thigh job, pwp (plot what plot). This is sort of a continuation of another smut i posted but you can read this without reading the first one.
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: uhg. lilia. i love him. i love general lilia. thats it that all i have to say.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | TWST MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS
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Whenever a window of opportunity to rest presents itself, you’ll sit on the nearest tree stump or log available, idly watching what happens around you.
You see soldiers' training, sparring, fixing tents, and the general dividing tasks among his subordinates with a stern voice. Lilia’s an example of what being a leader means—not limiting himself to delegating labor, but also lending a hand.
He grabbed the handle of his lithic weapon as he sparred with one soldier; with practiced ease, Lilia unarmed the soldier. The general reprimanded the other fae for losing his footing over a basic movement.
Lilia plans tactics for ambushes furtively, aiming to attack the enemy’s weakness first. Deft and sharp.
Soon, you’d understand that the general isn’t used to docility of any kind. Neither giving nor receiving. A war general shouldn’t allow a margin of error, steps should be given with precision and intent on subduing your adversary.
You recalled your first intimate night with Lilia. You remembered the sensation of him holding back, and even then, he still did a number on your body. You’ve spent enough time with the fae to know that the moment you try to point out any attempt at tenderness on his part, he would deny it.
You couldn’t help but find it endearing. And your curiosity increased the more you wondered about to what extent you could tease him and make him lose his constraints. Lilia’s libido was pretty responsive to what you did or said, so it wouldn’t be difficult to push him in that direction.
The moment the soldiers were already in their tents, you sneaked into the general’s.
“I’m heading to the lake to wash off the dirt,” you said as you entered the tent. You found your fae writing something down on the map splayed across the table.
Lilia acknowledged you with a hum.
You sighed. “I don’t wanna go alone. The woods become frightening the moment there’s no more sunlight, you know.”
Lilia dropped the pencil and looked at you. “A little dirt on your body’s not going to kill you,” he teased.
“You know I can’t sleep like that. I sweated a lot today, too. Baur made me accompany that expedition group to the mountain’s skirt in the morning,” you complained. “I promise it won’t be long.”
You sensed that he was about to give up.
“And someone could sneak up on me and see me naked.”
That was enough argument for the fae to stand up from his chair and rush to tag along with you.
This was your favorite moment of the day, when you could not just finally go to bed but also freshen up with clean water. Even if the temperature might be a bit chilly during the night, the fresh water was welcomed to clean you up from the dirt and sweat that clinged to your skin.
“The water feels nice,” You hummed as you dipped your toes into it. Lilia was more concerned about making sure no one was near, though, his ears flicked at the slightest suspicious sound.
You began undressing in front of him, as you have done many times before. Even with your back turned towards him, you could feel his stare roaming around your flesh.
You carefully entered into the serene lake until the water covered your chest.
“Lilia,” You called out to him again. His gaze returned to you. “Why don’t you join? You look like you need this, too.”
“You said you wouldn’t take long. I still have work to finish.” He crossed his arms, gripping his lithic.
“Just this once,” You almost pouted. “You’ve been busy these past few days. I miss you already. I’ll even help you wash your back.”
You held Lilia’s stare before he, for the second time today, humored you. Soon, his clothes were untidily placed next to yours.
Beaming with joy, you hugged Lilia the instant he was within reach.
“General, your hair’s getting wet,” You hurried to help him fix his hairstyle in a way that the inconvenience would be resolved. “There. All done.”
Lilia grumbled about something meaningless as he allowed you to scrub his back, washing off both dirt and dried blood and uncovering new lacerations he had gained from recent ambushes. You traced them with your fingers, leaning closer to kiss those scars.
You couldn’t see Lilia’s expression, but you did sense his body’s temperature going up.
“Mm, you’re so warm,” You relished the warmth from the fae’s body. Your tits pressed flush against his back, and your hands roamed around his front—feather-like touches teasing his chest and abdomen. You were aware that your words and actions were leading in a certain direction, so before Lilia beat you to it and followed through with it, you pulled away from him. “It’s getting chilly, though. Let’s head back already.”
In the blink of an eye, Lilia gripped your wrist and pulled you towards his chest. Your backside making contact with something hard and hot, nudging in between your thighs.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Hm? I thought the general had work to finish,” You feigned innocence.
“That can wait. Right now, I need to have you.”
“But we’re in a lake! Someone could walk in on us. Let’s head back to the tent,” Ignoring the evident ache in your body, you did your best to deter him. For fun. To test how far you could make him wait. If not for your determination to uncover the fae’s strength, you would’ve conceded.
Under the promise, the general’s complaint had died for the moment.
Once in the tent, you were preparing to go to sleep, until a sudden force pinned you against the bed. A small squeak left you, and the familiar arms squeezing your waist made you understand that your little teasing reaped an interesting reaction from him.
“Lilia—” You tried to gain some balance by trying to prop your torso up with your hands, but the general immobilized you by further pinning your legs against the mattress with his.
“You little tease, you think I wouldn’t notice what you were trying to do?” He brushed away the hair covering your nape to nip at the sensitive skin there. “If you wanted me to rough your body up, you should’ve just asked for it,”
This was what you wanted, although you didn’t imagine it would be this soon. If this little teasing got you to this point, you couldn’t imagine how he would be if you had done more...
One hand slipped under your underwear while his other hand covered your mouth in time before a moan escaped you. With his index and middle fingers, he began rubbing your clit in circular motions.
“I’ve been treating you with so much leniency you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with,” His breath against your ear made you shiver, and a renewed sense of pleasure overtook your body. “I’ll have to remind you,”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You managed to whisper, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but failing with how he played with your sex. Lilia really did know you inside out.
“You were already wet when I slid my hand under your clothes. Don’t try to act coy now,” He seemed to be amused, above all.
You clutched the sheets as you lost yourself in pleasure, your head falling against the pillow and using it to muffle your voice. You barely register Lilia pulling your pajama pants down and off your legs.
The fae grew eager, having a sliver of enough composure left to discard your underwear, but your uncoordinated and trembling body made the task more complicated than needed. Instead, he pushed it to the side, his fingers not once faltering in stimulating you.
A muffled whimper of his name. Not even a second later, Lilia stopped his movements.
“Noo, what’re you doing,” You protested, not expecting him to halt. “I was about to…”
“Aw, you were about to. What a pity,” He mocked you, momentarily freeing your body from his antsy hands to remove his own garments. Once done, you felt him spread your slicked pussy lips with his thumbs, eyeing you up with a satisfied, complacent grin. “You like being treated like this. You have no salvation, do you?”
Despite not being able to deny it, your face burned from embarrassment. Even if Lilia tended to put your pleasure first and holds back from going all out, the change in that tactful demeanor into a meaner one still excited you.
While holding you open still, he grinded his cock between your folds, using both his pre-cum and your arousal to lubricate it. You were growing impatient, and thus, tried to grind back against him to incite him into already giving in.
Lilia rested his weight against your back, his chest flush against it, weighing you down. Lilia dug his fingernails into your flesh, while demanding that you stay still. His fingers went back to playing with your clit, using your sticky inner thighs to pleasure himself.  
After what felt like forever, the tip prodded inside, taking his time to stuff you with more of his dick. He pulled back until the just head was in and thrust with more strength. The feeling of Lilia’s warm body embracing yours and his thickness stretching you almost made you forget about holding back your voice.
From the very moment you conceived the idea of teasing him, to Lilia not allowing you to touch yourself or him, the buildup to your orgasm approached faster than what you expected. As if both factors weren’t enough, you were still sensitive over the climax you were robbed of prior moments ago.
You mewled, trying to reach behind you and hold his hand to ground yourself.
Instead, the fae grabbed your arms and pinned them against your back, his pace not stuttering for even a minute.
This was what you wanted—for him to be rougher…and within a couple more smacks of his hips against yours, you came hard around him, broken moans of his name escaping from your bitten lips. Lilia quieted himself by kissing your shoulder the moment he released his cum inside.
Sore and spent, your head collapsed forward against the pillow again. You heard Lilia’s amused chuckle, resting next to you while keeping an arm wrapped around you.
“I wasn’t too rough, right?” He muttered after a while in silence, his eyes inspecting your body. “Does it hurt somewhere?”
“My arms, you gripped me too hard,” You mumbled. “I didn’t notice it at the moment because…it felt nice…”
At your confession, he looked taken back by it before his expression shifted into a relieved one and he chuckled. “I should’ve known you like being treated like that. You are quite keen about my fangs, and I’ve noticed how your body melts when I bite you,”
Before you could fawn over the coy visage that took over his eyes for a split second, it faded away with the same ease it appeared as he turned his head to the other side.
“I love it when you’re trying to be gentle, even if you’re not that great at it,” You teased, your fingers brushing his hair. Lilia grunted, suddenly grumpy about you pointing that out. “But I also enjoy it when you’re rough,”
He humphed, still avoiding facing you. You smiled at him, despite it not being visible to him. You closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion getting to you.
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brynnewithane · 2 months
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[Dating Hoshina Headcanons]
Absolutely no one asked but this is how I imagine dating Hoshina would look like:
This post is based on my personal research and officially published information about Hoshina up to Chapter 110. Please read this with a giant grain of salt.
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If he has a half day off:
Casual coffee dates, talk about anything and everything.
Walk in the park while he’s still wearing his tracksuit so he can respond quickly to Kaiju’s attacks.
Takes you to all the bookstores or libraries, buy books for each other then go home and read each other’s book.
Late night Izakaya date when his shift is finished. Both grab a beer and you’ll listen to him telling you about how his day went, including all the drama at work of course lol.
Spend a lot of quality time together reading, discussing a book he has recommended (probably non-fiction or classics).
I also love the idea that he likes to take you to every Japanese Festival like the Kyoto Gion Matsuri (Kyoto is in the Kansai region; he’s from a traditional old-money clan in the Kansai region, so this festival is a must), but he’d probably be on duty those days for extra vigilance in case there’s an attack. Despite so, he’s gonna make it up to you later on bc this man does have a sense of loyalty and he cares a whole lot once you make it to his heart and earn his trust.
Another headcanon of mine is that he‘s lowkey romantic. Like c’mon, he reads poetry lmao. I’ve never seen someone who reads poetry that doesn’t have a romantic side. If he’s off duty, he’d plan a proper date, such as:
Watches the Blossom Forecast to plan for a Hanami picnic (花見, hanami, "flower viewing") when Spring comes. He’ll bring sweets like Dango, Daifuku, and his favorite Mont Blanc.
Takes you to those kimono retailers, makes you try on different types of kimono, and buy the one you like most.
He’d take you to the beach, or onsen on some mountains. He’d ask you to go on a hike with him in the early morning bc that’s his routine and he wants you to join him as well.
He’ll prepare a yukata for both to attend summer festivals, buy sparklers (線香花火, senkou hanabi), play goldfish scooping (金魚すくい, kingyo sukui), eat candied apples and watch fireworks together.
Chilling in his house, drinking ramune and eating watermelon. You watch your favorite show, he reads his newly bought novel. Either you both cook and prepare dinner, or head out to a rather fancy traditional restaurant.
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English is not my first language so my grammar isn’t grammaring sometimes. If there are any parts that feel weird or unnatural, please let me know🤧
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littlereddream · 15 days
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Under Heavy Rot
You didn’t realize the apartment you were crashing in was already occupied, but the dead have already gathered outside and you’re too injured to fight any off. It helps that the stranger living in there isn’t so keen on kicking you out there with them, even if he did just have a gun to your head.
Warnings: zombie apocalypse au, similar to the walking dead but no prior knowledge required, also no spoilers here for the show. No characters from the show are featured here either. mild zombie apocalypse typical gore, all your normal apocalyptic warnings, gn reader
Every step you take burns like hell, pain shooting from your foot up, up, up all the way into your knee. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, how long since your last camp was completely overtaken by the living dead. You’d thought it was safe, that it was impossible for them to cross the river without being swept away.
It was foolishly easy to let your guard down there, things settling into a peaceful routine. Life became peaceful. In the mornings, you’d even collect eggs from the chickens and bring them to the cook. Friendships with other survivors led to lively dinners around the campfire, filling the air with story after story.
You should’ve realized something was off when you woke up to distant snarls outside your tent instead of the familiar rooster’s crow.
In everyone’s rush to scatter, you’d been so focused on getting out of there that you’d forgotten about one of the camp’s main defenses. It was a matter of luck that you hadn’t lost your foot entirely to the bear trap, thanks to a woman with a hatchet being kind enough to pry you free before escaping with her family.
You’d been lucky then. But now? The longer you go without treating the wound leaves you more and more susceptible to infection.
Half a day’s walking has you wandering into one of the city’s nicer neighborhoods. It’s unusually nice for Gotham, but it makes sense for being on the city’s outskirts. You can’t help but imagine it’s history before the outbreak. While walking, you can see a rusted basketball hoop on one of the driveways. It’s easy enough to imagine neighborhood kids playing, laughing while their parents watch them from the porch over fresh barbecue.
You head up the front steps of a place two houses down from there, wedging your knife into door’s crack until it’s creaking open with a quiet click.
Maybe it’s the pain, or maybe you’re just exhausted from the day. Whichever it is causes you to step inside without checking every corner. Three steps in, and the door is slamming shut behind you.
“Don’t move.”
The familiar click of a weapon’s safety coming off.
There’s near silent shuffling behind you, measured footsteps too practiced to tell where the voice is coming from.
“Drop the knife.”
So screwed. So stupid. You were gonna die. This man is gonna kill you and it’s all gonna be because you couldn’t clear a room.
Your knife drops from your fingers, landing on the ground with a clatter.
“Now kick it away.”
You do, and with it goes your last chance of defense.
You take the chance to turn around, slow as you can. Whatever you were expecting to see, it’s far from what’s stood in front of you. The guy might have a gun pointed at your head, but you’re injured, not blind. This would make it the first time you’ve met somebody who pulls off the post apocalyptic look so well.
“Is that a bite?” He asks, gaze flickering to your foot.
Right. Words.
You’re quick to shake your head. “No. No, just got caught in a trap.”
He relaxes a little, but it’s almost immediately after that both of you are flinching. His weapon flies to point at the door, and your hands clench reflexively around your now empty knife sheath. A car alarm.
The stranger swears, clipping his pistol back into his belt before slipping into the closest room. There’s some rustling coming from inside, but you take the momentary distraction to lean against a wall, shifting weight off your injured leg.
“So,” you begin, uncertain,” I really didn’t know anyone was staying in here. I can go find another house to crash, seriously.”
He’s back, carrying a chair to shove in front of the double door, wedged underneath the doorknobs.
“No leaving,” he states, absolute with no room for negotiation.
You raise a brow at him when he glances back at you, but he just gestures towards the peephole. Cautious, hand as close as you can get it to the hilt of your knife without actually drawing it, you stumble forward. It’s hard to ignore the way the stranger’s eyes linger on your ankle, but you lean in to look outside anyway.
You’d thought it was bad at the camp. At least a dozen walkers tore away at your closest friends.
More than two dozen herded together outside. Half of them were climbing over each other, clawing at the empty car for any bit of medal their fingers would catch on. The other half walk aimlessly, twitching at every little sound that could mean another bite to eat.
You lean away from the door, thankful to find the stranger hasn’t moved a single inch out of place. His arms are crossed over his chest, almost smug in a way like he’s daring you to take your chances outside.
Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on his kitchen table while he’s got a chair pulled up in front of you, your ankle cradled in his hands.
“What’s your name?” You ask.
His thumb brushes over the corners of the wound, and your fingers grip the table’s edge a little tighter.
“Sorry.” The fingers pull back, reaching for the wet towel to your left. “It’s Jason.”
Jason cleans the wound as gently as he can, whispering quiet apologies for every sound of pain that leaves your lips. You tell him your own name through gritted teeth, and he seems to accept it as forgiveness for the necessary pain.
Once your ankle is fully wrapped, he carefully pulls down the hem of your pant leg to cover it. For a second, neither of you move. His hands stay there, and you don’t bother pulling your foot away.
Then he’s pushing his seat back to stand, clearing his throat.
“There’s an empty bedroom upstairs. You can stay here till your ankle heals. If you really want to leave, then at least wait till the herd clears up,” he suggests, rushing to clean up all the leftover medical supplies.
You stay till the herd leaves. Then you stay a little longer. Eventually, you can walk without any pain at all. You stay anyway.
Then you’re completely healed up and Jason suggests you stay a little longer. “Just in case,” he says.
Then it’s been a month and the only time you’ve ever brought up leaving, he looked at you like the option never even crossed his mind. You stay a little longer.
During a supply run, Jason kisses you. You got attacked by three walkers, backed up into a shelf of a nearby corner store.
Later, Jason blames it on the adrenaline from saving you. Later, he apologizes and promises that it won’t happen again.
But in that moment, with his calloused hands cupping your jaw, his breath shared with yours, leaving stops crossing your mind too.
Two weeks after, you learn that Jason can’t ever make good on a promise that involves staying away from you. Two weeks later, you kiss him first and he returns it with all the fervor of a starved dog.
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chlix · 19 days
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sharpest tool
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bf! chan x fem! reader: chan doesn't love you like you love him. you're not planning on doing anything about it
genre: angst, suggestive (but not actually very fun or sexy)
word count: 2.9k
warnings/tags: toxic relationships/situationships, arguing, self-worth issues
a/n: this fic is inspired by "sharpest tool" off sabrina carpenter's new album! i heard it and immediately knew i wanted to write for it. i also plan on doing other songs off the album with other members but we'll see if i get to that before the album loses all relevance 💀
“What’s new with you then?” your coworker Seohyeon asks once the lunch rush dies down. You’re wiping spilled coffee off the bar and she’s pretending to reorganize the stacks by the till, but really, you’re both just trying to look busy while you recover from the last round of customers. Seohyeon has already bitched about her evil landlord and snitched on your manager for critiquing the way the new girl set up the cup display. Now, it’s your turn to overshare. Unfortunately, your life is scant of any juicy details.
“Nothing. You know I have no life outside this job,” you say.
“So not true,” she says. “What about that guy who keeps hanging around waiting for you to get off every day? How’s that going?”
You stiffen. “It’s going.”
She hums sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”
You drop your rag in the bucket of sanitizer water and take a long breath.
“It’s not bad. It’s not really anything right now.”
“You know, I mentioned how he’s always waiting for you, but I haven’t really seen him in a couple of weeks.”
“You and me both,” you mutter. Unwittingly, your hands drift to your phone in your apron pocket, hoping it’ll buzz and you’ll get a text from Chan, as if he’d sense you thinking about him and give you the attention that you’ve been craving. When you first met, the two of you had that kind of psychic connection. It was like you were of one mind. He was everything you wanted in a guy. He still is.
That’s what makes this all so difficult.
The idea of Chan using you as a warm body isn’t inherently distressing. Or, it wouldn’t have been, if he’d posed the idea initially. Maybe if he’d asked you for that up front, then you would’ve known better than to catch feelings. Or at least if you had, then you could take all the blame unto yourself for being softhearted, overly optimistic. He could be blameless. This would be easier if he was a bad person. Or maybe he is, and you just love him too much to care.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Seohyeon says.
“There’s not much to say. We weren’t really even dating. I think. I mean, he doesn’t owe me anything.”
Seohyeon gives you a knowing look, and it makes anything else you were planning on saying stick in your throat.
“Get well soon, girl,” she says, and turns back to the till. You swallow, pick up the bucket of dirty water, and go to dump it out in the sink in the back.
Chan does not come in at the end of your shift and wait for you. Of course not. He does text you, though.
Hey, he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you in a week. The casual nature of it swallows you alive.
Hey
Busy tonight?
Never for you <3
My place? 8?
It’s almost pathetic of you to keep falling for the same old trick. Can it even be called a trick if you’re neither fooled nor impressed? You always knew you were just a placeholder, filling in the gaps for when he can’t have the girls he really wants. He doesn’t have to make it so obvious, though.
Placeholder. It’s one of those thoughts that as soon as it crosses your mind, you know you’ve already lost. You’re not sure if Chan realizes that’s what he’s turned you into. You can’t really blame him. You only recently realized it yourself. You’ve been hooking up for months, you’ve been hanging out with his friends, you’ve been posting each other and having cozy nights in with long conversations that last until the early morning. He’s your baby. You’re his girl. But you’re not his girlfriend. Six missing letters and suddenly, you’re the crazy one.
You wonder if Chan knows how these periods of long silence make you feel like a cheap lay, like someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he does, and this is all an elaborate manipulation tactic that’s working distressingly well. Maybe he doesn’t know, and you’re projecting malice onto his thoughtlessness.
It doesn’t matter either way. You know it, and you’re still going to go.
Ok <3
You put your phone away and start walking to the bus. You need to go home and get ready.
You arrive at his apartment just before eight pm. He hates it when people aren’t punctual, and you hate it when he’s upset, so here you are, shaved and showered and dressed all pretty. You’ve developed a scarcity mindset around him- you need to make sure every time he sees you is perfect because the incidents are so few and far between. You need to look irresistible, so enticing that he’ll be begging to come see you again. It’s so pathetic that you piss yourself off on a daily basis.
You fix your hair and clothes, ring his doorbell. He answers the door, all smiles and muscle tees, and it almost makes you forget that you haven’t seen him since the last full moon. It’s like a thirst that doesn’t make itself known until that first drop of water.
“Hey, baby,” he says, drawing you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, not lustful but loving and you let yourself fall into it.
“Missed you,” he says, low in your ear. He smells like aftershave, like sandalwood and pine.
“Missed you more.”
He pulls you into his apartment and closes the door behind you so he can press you up against it and kiss you again. He licks into your mouth, and you let him, bringing your own hands up to cup his face. The barest bit of his stubble tickles against your palms. His body is warm and solid against you, it makes your knees weak, makes your heart race. For the moment, you forget every grievance you’ve ever had with him. You forget how upset you were at work today, and Seohyeon’s pity, and how empty your phone has been lately. The world outside the two of you might as well not exist.
Chan’s hands slide up under your shirt, pressed against your stomach. Your gut twists.
The illusion shatters.
You pull your lips away from him.
“Chan,” you say, trying to be authoritative, but you’re breathless. He moves away from your mouth and latches onto your neck, and your body reacts without your permission, arching into the touch, but you pull your hands away and press on his chest.
“Chan, stop.”
He lets you push him, taking a step back and looking down at you with blown wide eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just…not feeling it.”
“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to pounce on you. We can move to the bedroom if you want?”
“No…” That sticky feeling is building in your throat again. “I’m just not really in the mood for sex at all, right now.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Awkward silence stretches between you. He’s just looking at you, unsure how to proceed, and you want to die a little more every minute.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just- I’ll go-”
“No, wait!” He catches your arm as you go to turn away. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize for something like this.”
“Okay…”
He kisses your forehead again, affectionate and chaste. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t lying about missing you, yeah? Let’s just have a chill night in.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’ll order in. It’ll be nice.”
You let out a long breath and pull him into a hug. He embraces you, and your ear ends up pressed against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming under his ear, soothing, reassuring.
Okay. Okay okay okay.
You try to have a good night, you really do. You want to be happy when you’re around him, but it’s like a switch has flipped in your head and it’s impossible to truly relax. He orders food from your favorite place without you having to even ask.
“You want your usual?” he asks.
“You still remember my usual?”
“I remember everything about you, love.”
You think about earlier, how he’d known to text you as soon as you got off work yet hadn’t made the effort to actually show up like he used to. You tell him your usual is fine and kiss him on the cheek.
When the food arrives, you curl together on the couch under blankets and put on some show as background noise. There was a drama you were watching together, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you. As he pulls up Netflix, you notice the title card in his Recently Watched, but you haven’t been over in so long that you know it can’t be from the last time you were together. He doesn’t pause, skipping over it completely to select another random thumbnail.
“This okay?”
You hum an affirmative and the Netflix logo appears on the screen, signaling the start of the episode. You eat your food and try to focus on how good it tastes instead of how leaden your stomach feels.
As the night wears on, you realize that he’s being cagey. He asks you questions about your life and your job, about your sister and her baby and your plans for the holidays. He’s always been a good listener, always attentive and empathetic and curious. He’s been good at getting secrets out of you as long as you’ve known him.
I’ve never told anyone this before, you would start sentences, but I feel like I can trust you.
You can, he’d respond. I’d never judge you. I care about all of you, even the parts you might not care about yourself.
Always so welcoming, so loving. It had you spilling your guts after only the third date.
I’m rambling, I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about all my baggage.
Y/n, I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Communication is important in relationships. It builds strong foundations.
And yet here he is, only a few months later, dodging all your questions about where he’s been or what he’s been up to.
“How’s work?”
“It’s been alright.”
“You’re pretty busy around this time of year, aren’t you?”
Chan shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.”
You nod around the fork in your mouth, unsure how to continue the line of inquiry. You try again, another topic this time.
“Did you hear about that giant pile up downtown? There were like ten cars involved.”
“I haven’t been watching the news much lately.”
“Well what have you been watching?”
“I’ve kind of had other things going on. Not much time for leisure.”
“Right. You said you were busy with work.”
He doesn’t reply to this. You want to shrink into the couch cushions and coil inside one of the springs.
You eat in silence for a while, eyes flittering between the screen and his face. Once or twice, his phone will ding, and he’ll pick up and scroll through it, shoot back a quick reply. You don’t ask who’s contacting him. When he’s done, he sets his phone face down on the table, out of your reach.
When you’re both done, he takes the empty containers from you and goes to dispose them. His hair bounces as he moves, curling around his ears and the tops of his brows.
“Your hair’s getting long.”
“Is it?” He pulls at a loose curl, stretching it out in front of him critically. “Guess I should get it cut.”
“Nooo, I like it. It suits you.”
He glances at you shyly. “You think?”
“I know. You look adorable.”
“I can’t be walking around adorable. What would that do to my image?”
“Right. Mr. Tough Guy Bang Chan, who always has short hair and thick biceps. There’s a brand image to consider.”
“Exactly! I knew you’d understand.” His cheeks dimple in his smile, but it’s shaky, and it disappears as quickly as it came. “And anyway, I just don’t think…” He trails off.
“Don’t think what?”
Chan stays quiet for a while, lost in thought. You’re unsure whether or not to push, but before you can say anything else, he snaps out of it. He shakes his head as if to clear it and throws an apologetic look your way.
“Never mind. Just getting too into my head.”
Concerned, you rise from the couch and cross the room to his kitchen.
“Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course I worry about you. I care about you.”
Chan isn’t meeting your eyes. “Just leave it alone, y/n. It’s stupid anyway.”
“Something bothering you could never be stupid.”
“I said just leave it alone.” His voice is harsh now, face hardened in the way he does when he’s not being nice anymore. He’s putting his walls up and you don’t understand why, and it’s tearing at you, the cumulative weight of all this distance.
“Okay. Whatever then.”
You turn around and start walking back towards the couch.
“Whatever?”
The audacity to sound offended after the way he’s been treating you.
“I can’t make you talk to me. If you don’t want to tell me anything then why keep asking?”
“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been talking to you all night.”
“No, you haven’t. You’re shutting me out.”
“Shutting you out?” He sounds genuinely confused. You stop halfway back to the living room and turn to look at him.
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
He lets out a short laugh and pushes his curly bangs away from his forehead, hands alight with anxious energy.
“Y/n I invited you over here. We’ve been talking and watching the show. I thought we were having a good night. Now I want to keep one thought to myself and I’m ‘shutting you out’?”
That same twisting in your gut starts up again.
“You’re making me sound so unreasonable.”
“I mean, can’t you see how this looks from my perspective?” He turns away from you and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s developing a headache. Like he’s the one being tormented. “Sometimes I feel like you and I are living in different realities.”
It’s like a dagger in your chest. All your indignation leaves you, leaking out of you and pooling at your feet in a sad little puddle of self-respect.
“Don’t say that.”
“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
You set out of your ring of self-loathing and approach the island where he is, still turned away from him. You reach out a shaking hand and turn him to face you. When you meet his eyes, you see frustration, confusion, and helplessness.
You’re a placeholder. You know it, Seohyeon knows it, the girl he’s been texting all night knows it. It’s possible Chan doesn’t.
That’s fine. You know it, and you’re in love with him anyway.
You press your hands against his chest, leaning up so you can look right in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “You’re right. I’ve been on edge lately; I didn’t mean it.” You smile, self-deprecating, embarrassed. “Forgive me?”
Chan lets out a long breath. He grabs your hand and kisses it, then keeps holding on to it, his grip strong and secure.
“Nothing to forgive. I’ve been all over the place too. But we’re here now, together. So let’s just relax, yeah?”
You nod. He leans down and kisses you. The twisting in your gut persists, but you don’t pull away until he does.
“Let’s go finish this episode,” he says, and goes to lead you both back to the living room.
The night feels like a failure. You can’t figure out why, but the thought of just finishing your show and then putting your coat and boots back on and leaving feels like accepting defeat. Your legs are unstable underneath you, but not in the way they were earlier, when Chan was kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, you are standing at the top of a very tall hill, fighting against gravity to remain upright on the slope.
Get well soon, girl.
You close your eyes tightly, then reach forward and grab the back of Chan’s shirt. He jolts, surprised, then turns back to you. You release his jacket as he turns and grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together.
“Forget the show,” you say. “Take me to bed.”
His eyes widen. “Are you sure? Earlier you said-”
“I’m too in my head. You’re right. I should try to relax. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You get on tiptoe and lean up to his ear and whisper. “You can make me feel better, right Channie?”
Chan’s fingers tighten around yours. When you lower yourself back onto your heels, he’s looking down at you with dark eyes. You push down your unease, leave it abandoned on the floor with your anger and ego and heartbreak.
“You’re sure.”
“Never surer. Unless you don’t want-”
He effectively silences you by sweeping you into his arms, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.
“Baby, you have no idea the things I want.”
You laugh, shocked at the display of strength, and wrap your arms around him as he carries you away. The last thing you see before he shuts the bedroom door is his phone on the table, vibrating with an unanswered call.
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silksongeveryday · 7 months
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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!
1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!
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Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.
I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??
(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)
A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.
So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)
I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.
Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.
Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol
I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over
Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!
Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!
Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!
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delcakoo · 1 year
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enha’s favorite petnames ´✩ˎ˗
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requested <3
PAIRING ! enhypen x f!reader
WC ! 2.1k
GENRE ! tooth rotting fluff
WARNINGS ! lots of petnames ofc ^^
a/n: finally ot7 post woo! a bit shorter than my usual but hope u all enjoy <3
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// LEE HEESEUNG !
if you’re the type to get flustered easily.. oh boy
you miiiight be in trouble
but even if you aren’t? hee WILL change that
this man will search a whole dictionary just to find a name that’ll get you shy for him
but on the average day he’s pretty chill yet flirty with pet names
its a bit unexpected.. the longer you’ve been dating the worse it gets
everything begins with baby
it just starts replacing your name like
“there’s my baby, how was your day, hm?”
before you can even get used to that he’s already gotten more confident
his other go to names for you are angel and occasionally pretty
mushy yet effective c:
for example if you’ve been having a rough day or just got back from work or school? healing gamer boyf hee to the rescue!
“missed you, angel. wanna come sit on my lap while i game?” with a kiss against your temple :c
it’s such a simple name that he’d only ever call you, n’ he always says it so absentmindedly as if the name was your own
the latter is commonly used when you’re mad at him
“m’ sorry pretty. can your boyfriend try and make it up with some cuddles? and i’ll let you pick a movie?”
or perhaps when he’s being evil and wants a reaction out of you
“hey pretty girl, can you pass the remote?” pArdon
where did that come from sir..
when your reply comes out stuttered he snickers
this is not to say he isn’t just as weak for you!!
make sure to get him back since IT ISN’T THAT HARD
hit him with ‘handsome’ and bros a goner
“morning handsome, how’d you sleep?”
“i just woke up, stop..” suddenly your smug, confident boyfriend is hiding the grin on his face in the safety of your shoulder
BUT proceed with caution because hee will never just let you win, nuh uh!
if you step up your game so will he, be prepared for him to hunt down any name in the book that can get you going <3
// PARK JAY !
cmon this man is the epitome of romance!
he doesn’t even nOtice the effect it has on you, as his s/o jay thinks it’s common sense that you should have all the special names ^^
“darling, want me to get you a drink? i washed your favorite mug.”
“sweetheart, should i cut up some fruit for you and the boys?” yeAh he’d literally be in the kitchen doing shit instead of joining in movie night (just like in sosofun T-T)
THE BOYS DON’T EVEN TEASE because it’s just so cute and pure
even if they did it isn’t like he’d care
brushes them off because nothing can stop him from showering you in love
after a while you soooorta get used to it
but like can you ever really get used to jay’s way of waking you up in the morning
“my love,” he mumbles, peppering kisses along the back of your head while holding you tighter against his sturdy chest, “time to get up, okay?”
you just ask how he expects you to get up when he’s holding and talking to you like that :c
either way pet names are quite important for jay
it’s a method to show how serious he is about your relationship, he doesn’t go around calling just anyone beautiful,,
so if you use them on him as well? his heart will MELT
literally anything you do makes him happy, even just baby would get him smiling
even if it’s over text,, “sleep well! goodnight, love” HE IS FAST ASLEEP WITH A GIDDY SMILE ON HIS FACE
all in all jay is a giver!
doesn’t expect anything in return for his labor, so having you call him such praising names like he does for you..?
just?! starts malfunctioning
his brain immediately goes to things like “how’d i get so lucky” “i don’t deserve her”
also why words of affirmation is one of his top love languages!! give him the affection he deserves <3
and and one time you tried to see his reaction by calling him husband on the phone with a friend
..bro didn’t even bat an eye
the real definition of husband material
// SIM JAKE !
now this one.. unironically uses all the playboy pet names
you see
he started calling you babygirl as a joke A JOKE OKAY
just teasingly or fake flirting as if you weren’t already together y’know
however.. the annoying name
kinda stuck
and now he brings it up every so often,,
bro’s lucky because it’d probs give you the ick from anyone else..
when you’d show off a new outfit or arrive at your date location?
“yoi! looking pretty, babygirl!” :)
his other favourite is princess! no reason just that you’re his princess
you rarely hear your own name any more it’s always just
“when’d you buy that, princess?”
“hey princess, is the food warm enough?”
not that you mind!
as for him.. jake literally loves anything and everything when it’s from your mouth
call him snookums for all he cares as long as it isn’t his boring old name
if you even try to call him jaEhyun or jake you’re getting the injured puppy eyes >:[
baby, love, handsome, literally anything makes him smile and mentally kick his feet like AUGHHH hes so in love with you it hurts!!
however this may seem oddly specific
‘cause it is but
calling him dumb things like my hero WILL GET HIM GRINNING SO FAST
jake loves! feeling helpful! and important! mainly for you!!
EVEN IF ITS JUST. he tied your shoe just go ‘my knight in shining armour! i would’ve tripped without you’ and mans will be doing a lil’ dance in his head <3
yes you could’ve tied your own shoe but heeee did that he’s such a good helpful caring wonderful boyfriend right?? right
let him have his moments,,
// PARK SUNGHOON !
he is. sort of sorry
listen.. hoon can’t help his shyness
even after dating for a while this man still blushes at the thought of calling you something besides your name T-T
he settles for.. babe
around others it’ll be your name
but in private he’ll just quietly go “babe, now that they’re gone can we continue that show?” awWw
sure when he’s being a teasing nuisance he’ll pinch your cheeks and start calling you cutie or my baby just to see your annoyed frown
but when you harmlessly ask why he doesn’t call you that at any other time he gets all fidgety and shrugs his shoulders
“i dunno! it’s.. embarrassing.”
so pretty much
the only real way to get pet names out of hoon is if you can muster up the courage to start using them first
just jump scare him like
“pretty boy, wanna go get ice cream?” he’ll be looking around the room pointing to himself going mE??!
then he’ll eventually start using them in return, maybe just baby or angel here or there
more specifically if he’s really missing you or needs something
“yah, angel~” he’d yell from your apartment’s entrance, “you look good and all.. but we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!!”
“wanna come visit the recording room at break? baby i’ll cry from exhaustion if you don’t.”
synopsis is. you know he reaaally needs you when those names come out
but but! like mentioned before he feels most comfy with casual nicknames
and if you’re okay with it, your own name which sometimes feels even more special to hoon ^^
he just loves saying your name as much as he loves everything else about you
however if pet names mean a lot to you no need to worry, he’ll get the hang of em’ and soon this dork will have you a blushing mess 24/7 mwahaha!
// KIM SUNOO !
baby is.. more romantic than you think!
as he warms up,, his favourite is simply calling you his love :c
in fact, he doesn’t mind saying it in front of the members even if they’re sure to tease him later on
“my love!” he exclaims as soon as you answer the phone, “i’m on the way to practise with everyone, wanna visit at lunch? jungwon keeps mentioning some mario movie he wants to watch with you..” *eyeroll*
he’s very.. go with the flow
if you call him a specific name then he may use the same one on you too ^^
for example, it was a bit unexpected to hear him start calling you hun
but at the same time you’ve called him that a couple times before too
sunoo always tries to catch on quickly when it comes to what you’re comfy with!
you wrap your arms around your boyfriend's waist just as he drops his duffle bag on the floor, “sun, how was recording?”
“ahh.. the others were yelling and gave me a headache. but it’s okay now that i’m with you, hun,” despite his exhaustion, he squeezes you with equal enthusiasm <3
as for himself, sunoo can’t help but smile when you call him the softer stuff
AND sun of course, it’s cute but simple — his favourite!
despite being the oldest of the maknae line, he’s used to being coddled a lot and sometimes.. it gets annoying
especially when the younger members join in
however when it comes to you?? he couldn’t care LESS
“my baby looks so tired, wanna sleep in my lap?” yep he’s absolutely sold
sometimes you have to repeat yourself ‘cause he was too busy getting flustered over your names for him <\3
// YANG JUNGWON !
being known for copying things like ‘yoi’
wonnie sometimes gets his pet names by watching/reading things
he could be on the plane during tour, watching a movie when the main lead says ‘beautiful’ and his first thought is just
“ah, that’s a good name for y/n”
may or may not have a note tab in his phone dedicated to names for you..
he would even research ones in other languages because he LOVES seeing your shy reaction when he explains what it means
“yah, why’d you text me something in a different language?”
when his cat eyes turn to crescents and his dimple poked through, you know he’s proud of whatever it is
“it means ‘darling’ in chinese, jagiya.”
when your expression changes and you turn to hide your smile, he leans over to give you a victory kiss through many giggles <3
on a day to day basis though
he enjoys saying your name in a cute way, besides the classic jagi/jagiya
“y/n~ come cuddle!” c’mon how’re you gonna say no!?
“look jagi,” he says it absentmindedly, even with the members nearby, “you’re my lockscreen now!”
will think it’s cute if you use the same names back, but won doesn’t mind anything ^^
he just really enjoys matching with you whether it be petnames, outfits, jewelry, anything really
so if there’s a specific name you like calling him
he’ll definitely steal it..
“bub, wanna order something for dinner?”
cat boyfriend just tilts his head, “okay, but why am i bub now?”
“i dunno, it’s just a cute name.”
then a few days later he—
“bub! i missed you!!” as soon as you walk through the door <3
cutie T-T
// NISHIMURA RIKI !
creative boy likes being unique with it :0
also ‘cause using super mushy names simply isn’t his style bUt
perhaps when he gets older that’ll change,,
most of the time babe/baby is an exception though
its quick, sweet, and right to the chase which is perfect for your impatient boy especially when he needs attention
“babe, babe, babe-“
you push him away slightly, holding the phone closer to your ear, “can’t you see i’m on the phone, ki?”
before you know it his arms are wrapped around you as his head dips into the crook of your neck, “baby i’m bored..”
“just a bit longer, okay?”
sometimes you may need some patience T-T
he also enjoys finding ways to make his own personal nickname out of your name, it feels much more special to him even if it’s not as ‘romantic’
AND OH BOY if anyone
absolutely anyone tries to use HIS name for you they’re getting the coldest death glare >:[
especially if it’s one of his members
in that case he has zero shame telling them off
“ow! what was that for?” jake whines, recoiling from the punch the younger had delivered to his arm
“you used my name for y/n,” he explains with a shy yet scolding grin, “the only thing you’re allowed to call her is her name, idiot.”
poor jake had to retell his story from the beginning,, sigh
just because he doesn’t do it himself does noT mean he won’t want you to call him cute shit!!
his reactions are always so worth it
“love, do you see my phone over there?” you feel bad interrupting your boyfriend who was peacefully napping in the living room, but the stress of being late for work was worse
instead of looking around though, riki only peels his eyes over to you, smiling giddily
“what was that?”
“have you seen my phone, doofus,” you repeat
“no, the first part!”
“love…?” suddenly he’s running over, picking you up and pulling you right over to the couch with him happily
good luck escaping his grasp c:
if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback is always appreciated!
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trippinsorrows · 3 months
Text
looking through your eyes + three
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authors note: wow! omg, thank you all so much for the kind words of support for this story! it really does mean a lot to me, cause i know the content is pretty heavy.
also, if anyone has read the acotar series, i imagine the dynamic between roman and the twins to be a bit similar to the bat boys. and yes, we'll def see more of the twins moving forward.
in addition, if you want to be tagged, you have to explicitly ask as such. the last thing i want to do is tag someone i thought wanted to be tagged and didn't, and they end up triggered. :(
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: language, violence against women, trauma responses (nightmares/night terrors), hints at suicidal thoughts, references to traumatic past
song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
words: 9k
Roman doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s out the house again before the sun is even up.
Solana knows all of this because she doesn’t sleep that night.
It’s not for lack of trying. She spends nearly two hours twisting and turning before finally accepting that sleep isn’t in the cards for her. She instead finds herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom, door locked, writing away in her journal. No letter to mom this time, just pure word vomit, all of her thoughts and feelings about everything that’s transpired. 
There’s as many tears as there are words, and like always post–writing, she feels a tad bit better. The best and only release she ever has is in her written word, all of the things she could never say aloud, melted from her head and sealed into paper.
When she’s done writing, Solana opts to read a book in her Kindle Library. Doing so makes her realize that she still doesn’t have her stuff from back home. It’s not that she has a lot, but the items she was told to pack just for the first few nights will only last just that—for a few days.
But, Solana doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask Roman about that. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask him for anything, not after she’s clearly and understandably upset him. She’ll just….she’ll just have to make do until it's noticed she's essentially living out of a suitcase. 
And Solana has a thought, an idea, that getting up early to fix him breakfast could be a good thing, something to tame his anger toward her. It’s the least that she can do.
But one look around Roman’s massive kitchen indicates he’s every bit the stereotypical bachelor. There’s only a couple of ingredients, not enough of anything to make an actual meal. There’s also a lot of “meal prep” meals, which makes sense. She can imagine he’s insanely strict with his diet and fitness. One can’t look like Roman Reigns without an intense amount of focus and dedication.
It makes her wonder just what kind of dietary restrictions and preferences she’ll have to learn about him to make meals that he can actually consume. Another question she needs to ask but doesn’t know how or when considering he already has very little to no interest in having anything to do with her.
It’s another thing she knows she’ll have to figure out but tries her best to focus on anything else besides the fact that she’s now married to a man who can’t stand her, the same man her family wants her to somehow assassinate.
Yes…..other things is a much better seat filler.
Solana briefly wonders how she’s going to get to work considering her car is still back at her dad’s house, but just when she’s considering calling an Uber, she’s met in the living room of Roman’s massive estate by none other than his right hand man and cousin.
Solo Sikoa 
All he says is, “ready?” And she realizes that this is how she’s to get to work, that he is to escort her. Him and another set of large men, guards as she realizes. A separate set of guards, not the ones who roam and patrol Roman’s mansion. 
Being around so many men….it’s a different kind of experience. Leaning more on the side of uncomfortable than anything. 
But, she’s at least a bit more at ease when Solo only opens the door to the back of the SUV and doesn’t join in, instead sitting in the passenger seat.
She's grateful for that.
Solo is almost the same exact person as his cousin. Large, strong, stoic and scary as hell. The only difference is that she’s not sure Solo is capable of sentences that include more than 1 to 3 words.
It’s obvious he’s not thrilled about being assigned as her personal guard, and she can’t blame him. There can’t be anything exciting about watching her boring life and making sure nothing happens to her during said boring life.
But Solana can’t deny there’s a small part of her that feels a small sense of comfort at having someone to look out for her. Even if she partially questions his loyalty to said job. Something happening to her wouldn’t do anything to anybody. At all. 
She’d just….cease to exist.
And lately….that hasn’t seemed like the worst thing ever. 
But, it’s when she arrives at work, goes into her office to start to prepare for the work day only to find her brother already waiting that that comfort is obliterated.
“Sis.” Wes' smile is tight and inauthentic, his eyes darting between her and Solo. “Sorry to scare you. I was just hoping we could talk.”
Talk….
Wes never wants to talk to her, not unless it’s him berating and screaming while he beats the shit out of her. 
“Alone.” He gives Solo a faux sympathetic expression. “Family things….you understand, I’m sure.”
Solana doesn’t know if Solo understands or he doesn’t, but she does know that Wes' kind and friendly tone is all smoke and mirrors. She knows he’s pissed that he didn’t catch her off-guard, didn’t catch her alone, that he couldn’t corner her like he always does.
And for a second, Solana believes she’s safe, knows that Solo won’t let Wes lay a hand on her. It’s….it’s his job to keep her safe, right?
But just as that hope is present, it’s extinguished by the reality she knows is inescapable. Solo won’t be with her 24/7. She won’t be protected forever. She’ll eventually be around both Wes and her father alone. And the price she’ll have to pay for denying him in this moment….
It’s not worth it. 
Roman’s words to her father about not touching her are nice in theory, but she knows better. Xavier Miller does what he wants, regardless of what’s said and by who.
“O–of course,” Solana mumbles, fingers dancing at the side of her pants. She turns to Solo. “Please….give us a few minutes.”
For the first time since she’s met him, Solo actually shows some type of emotion. It still stems from anger, maybe a branch of irritation, but it's still something different. “Tribal Chief said I’m supposed to watch you, so that’s what I do.”
She swallows. This is going to require a level of assertiveness that’s almost foreign if not non-existent. “I–I understand, but….Wes is my brother. He—” It’s almost impossible for her to even get the words out. “He would never hurt me.”
Solana almost immediately wants to vomit. That’s all this man has ever done. 
At least since the murder of their mother. 
Solo is struggling but wavering, she can see as much, so she continues. “It’s okay,” she assures, even mustering up a small smile. “Please….just a couple minutes. I won’t—I won’t say anything to Roman.”
Solo still looks torn but eventually agrees, leaving her alone with one of two men who hate her most on this earth. 
The door is barely closed when Wes has her pinned against the wall, hand slapped over her mouth, a knife pressed to the base of her throat.
“You stupid bitch, don’t think for one second that being married to Reigns changes shit,” he snarls. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He just doesn’t like people messing with his possessions.”
Solana knows all of this, knows that anything Roman may do that seems to be for her benefit is just him asserting his dominance. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this. 
“Wes, you’re hurting me.” She suddenly feels so stupid saying that, telling him what he already knows. Of course, he is. That’s the whole point. Still, she stupidly believes she can plead to whatever humanity is left in him. If any. “P–please.”
“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving her head against the wall. Solana winces quietly, mindful of Solo who stands outside the door because of her. Because she told him to, because she welcomed this violence onto herself.
“Reigns told dad you won’t be available for a couple weeks, so I suggest you start doing what you need to do to change that. We need to be able to communicate with you.”
This startles her. Why would Roman say that? Did Roman say that? Wes is a master manipulator, and she doesn’t put it past him to be playing mind games.
“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” And it’s true. Solana has no idea what to do in any of this, how she’s supposed to kill a man who’s more or less impossible to kill, how she’s supposed to win his favor when it’s obvious she already annoys him. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming.
“Did you fuck him last night?”
It’s a question she hoped no one would ask, didn’t believe would be asked because there’s no one who would care enough except for Roman himself.
And while Solana knows being dishonest with her brother won’t turn out well, in this moment, she doesn’t know how he’ll respond if she tells the truth.
So, she lies. She lies to live to see another day, for what reason, she doesn't know. It’s not as if any other day will provide her some sense of solace or security. But, it’s just what she does. 
“Y–yes.”
Wes looks understandably pleased. “Good.” She gaps in fear when he drags his knife against her skin, gently trailing it across, just light enough to avoid drawing blood. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for us for anyway.”
A frown falls upon her face. What….what does that mean?
“Just keep contact open, you understand?” No, she doesn’t, but she has no choice but to pretend that she does. Nodding, Wes shoves her into the wall one more time at an angle that causes her shoulder to take the impact. Wincing, she holds onto it as he releases her and walks out the door. “Don’t fuck this up, Solana.”
Easier said than done. Much easier said than done. 
It’s when he leaves her alone that the tears pool in her eyes. But, it’s when Solo walks in, studying her that she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “I–I’m fine.”
She’s not.
She’s far from fine. 
————
The day ends up slightly, maybe even moderately, improving. It’s to be slightly expected though as it’s Monday, the day that Solana runs her reading club with the younger kids. It’s always a highlight to see their bright, smiling faces, answering all of their fifty million questions.
It’s a break from a very bleak reality that is her life, immersing herself in their world of pretend and minimal worries.
Sometimes, she finds herself a bit jealous. Jealous that they still have their innocence, that their view of the world hasn’t been painted in red and blood like hers.
But, it’s when Solana is in the back taking her break, journaling, that that improvement takes a deep dive. Because a single knock on the door is followed by the large intimidating frame of her husband entering her space. 
Naturally, her stomach knots. She hasn’t seen Roman since last night, since he helped and scolded her in the same brief timespan. She understands it though and doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.
She’s far from the perfect picture of mental stability. 
Swallowing, Solana stands up and opens her mouth to address him when his eyes go from her face to her wrist. Following his line of vision, she sees why. There’s a blueish/greenish obvious bruise starting to form, beyond that initial point of formation really. It's just a straight up, fully developed bruise.
Roman slowly walks over to her and reaches for her arm. Solana naturally tenses. He hesitates for a second but still takes her wrist, lifting it so that it's at her eye level but still close enough for him to assess. 
She closes her eyes and acts quickly to think of an excuse. “I—umm—”
“Who?”
His voice is quieter than she anticipated and as much as she wishes she doesn't know what he means, Solana knows exactly what he’s asking. She just doesn’t answer. 
“I’m only going to ask you this one time and one time only.” His brown eyes are burning into her as he perfectly enunciates each word. “Who fucking touched you?”
Solana winces at his tone but eventually answers. “Wes....”
Roman drops her hand, and Solana brings her arms to her chest, head dropped. 
He’s pissed. 
That seems to be the only emotion he experiences around her, because of her.
His nostrils are flared as he demands. “Where was Solo?” 
Making him wait for a response is clearly something that sets him off even more, so Solana does her best to answer in a timely manner. “I—I asked him to leave. Wes….Wes didn’t want him in the room.”
“Of course, he fucking didn’t. Why would you—” Roman pinches his nose. A day. It’s been less than 48 hours, only a day in, and this marriage shit already has him fucking stressed out. Being married to this damn girl is like having a fucking child to look after. “From now on, I don’t give a fuck what your idiot brother and poor excuse of a father tell you, you’re not to be alone with them.” Roman’s command is a lot easier said than done. Denying her father or brother has never done her any favors. Solana isn’t sure how to verbalize this to the man in front of her who’s already six different shades of annoyed. “I thought I made that clear to them at the wedding, but obviously, they need a reminder.”
Solana feels every bit the scolded child, murmuring a quiet, “I’m sorry…”
Roman looks at her, and for a slither of a second, maybe even less than that, he feels bad for her. Feels bad because it’s clearly not her fault that she’s so fucked up. With a dad and brother like Xavier and Wes, what chance did she have?
He then briefly wonders about her mother, wonders what the dynamic was like there. But that’s a short lived trail because his mind then goes to his own mother. 
And Roman can’t have that, can’t go down that road for a variety of reasons, reasons that may not be that different from Solana’s. 
“Send me your work schedule.” Redirection is always a good strategy. That and fucking. Obviously, only one is an option for the woman in front of him. 
Panic builds in Solana’s stomach. Why does he want that? Her mind starts to race, arriving at only negative conclusions. Does he want her to quit? That thought kills her. 
Working at the library is the highlight, the only highlight, of her days. She doesn’t know what she would do without that outlet. 
“It won’t get in the way of my duties to you.” Solana typically isn’t the one to advocate for herself. Ever. But this….she can’t lose this, and it scares her to think of what mental decline could happen if she does. Nothing good. That’s for certain. “I—I can get up early and–and make your breakfast and meal prep lunch. A–and I’ll make sure your dinner is ready too by the time you come home—”
Rubbing his temple, exasperated, Roman asks, “what are you talking about?”
She’s not above begging. In a pleading tone, she begs, “please don’t make me quit my job.”
Roman isn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that the most words he’s heard leave Solana’s mouth are practically her begging to keep her job. He can understand it though. He would bet that her only time away from her family was when she was at work. “You can work as little or as much as you want. I don’t care about that.”
His words create instant relief. “Oh–I’m sorry, I thought—”
Roman runs his hand over his face. “You don’t have to apologize for everything.”
“Sor—” Solana drops her head as he exhales. Loudly. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over and done with this damn day.
“What time do you get off today?”
Solana licks her lips, answering. “Three.”
“I’ll meet you then.”
He can see she wants to ask but has decided against it, most likely recognizing his irritation. “We need to get your stuff from that house.” 
And in the midst of her anxiety in this conversation, she finds a glimmer of hope. She’s thankful that this isn’t something she had to initiate to ask him about.  
Something tells her Roman doesn’t like being questioned a lot.
Or at all.
“O–okay.” Is the answer she finally settles on, not wanting to say too much, vowing, “I’ll make sure I’m done by 3pm sharp.”
On one hand, Roman enjoys and respects punctuality, but something tells him Solana’s is based more on fear than anything. “Whenever is fine.”
Nodding and pushing her hair behind her ear, Solana watches Roman walk over to the door, preparing to leave when he asks, “is your brother right handed or left handed?”
His question takes her off guard, and she doesn’t quite know why he’s asking this in the first place. “W-what?”
Roman clearly doesn’t like repeating himself, because his tone takes on an edge. “Is he right handed or left handed?”
Solana swallows. She’s made him mad. Again. “R–right.”
Without another question, he leaves. And once the door shuts, he snaps at Solo, demanding, “why the fuck did you leave her alone with him? I told you to watch her!”
Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that Solo is doing a brilliant job masking his embarrassment at his failure. “She said—”
“I don’t care what she says. You don’t answer to her. You answer to me. Understood?”
Solo keeps his head high, acknowledging, “yes, my Tribal Chief.” Roman wastes no time in exiting the library and entering the SUV waiting for him, slamming the door shut. He pulls out his phone, selecting one of his most recent contacts, hitting dial. 
Jey answers on the third ring, but he’s immediately yelling to someone else, “slam my door one more fucking time, Nicki, and see what happens!” Roman’s jaw clenches, another new source of irritation being presented to him. “Ayo, Uce, now’s not a good time—”
“I don’t care.” Roman’s hot headed cousin and his equally hot headed wife arguing is nothing special. The fight. They fuck. They make up. And do it all over again. It’s not pressing news or even news at all at this point. “The Miller boy. Send him a message. A clear message.”
“I’ve got—”
“Did you hear what I just said?” There must be something in the air or the water, because Roman having to repeat himself is fucking asinine. He speaks once, and everyone should jump immediately. The fact that that isn’t happening is only pissing him off more. “And his right hand…make sure it’s broken.”
Jey sighs on the other end of the phone. “Aight. Me and Jimmy will have it done by the end of the day.”
Roman ends the phone call before his cousin can feed him any more excuses. Head tilted back against the headrest, he tries to settle himself. This day so far has been nothing but inconvenience after inconvenience. 
There’s nothing that pisses him off more than having to repeat himself, having conversations extend longer than they should, and that’s all this day has been thus far. He’s had to over explain and reiterate himself more than Roman feels necessary. 
And the day isn’t even halfway over. 
He needs an outlet.
Roman switches apps, finding one of his more recent contacts and sending out a message. 
Roman: Come over tonight. 
As expected, her reply comes almost right away. 
Samantha: Lol. That didn’t take long.
Samantha: See you then.
————
Solana always struggles with a level of anxiety when entering the home she grew up in. For a myriad of reasons. Most, if not all, being completely valid. Nothing good has ever happened for her in that place. And more often than not, she’d barely be in the house for more than a couple of minutes before she was either being berated or beaten.
Usually both.
But this…..this is different. A lot different, because she’s not walking into hell alone, she’s walking along (behind) Bloodline guards and the 6’3, pure muscled leader of said Bloodline. 
Roman Reigns.
Who also happens to be her husband.
Playing around with the wedding ring on her finger, Solana tries again to remind herself that this is real, that she’s married, that she’s married to Roman Reigns of all people. 
The reality definitely hasn’t set in.
Roman is about to knock on the door again when it swings open. Solana naturally steps back, something Roman takes notice of.
Xavier looks pissed, his fiery gaze landing on her first, but just as quickly as it was present, it's gone, settling into an almost pleasant smile. Directed at Roman, of course.
“Tribal Chief,” he greets. Solana’s gaze is on the ground now, focused on her painted toes instead of the man before her who she’s certain would be unleashing hell on her if not for the multitude of much larger, much stronger men surrounding her. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“I don’t care,” Roman interrupts, voice reeking of indifference. “She needs to go get her stuff.”
“Oh.” Solana can only imagine the difficulty her father is having in not throwing a fit. “Well, we can arrange for it to be delivered—”
“No.”
She means more to think it than to say it, but that intention falls short, because she definitely says it aloud.
And most of her regrets it, but there’s a small slither that doesn’t.
Solana knows her father. She knows him very well. 
Roman has done nothing but piss him off from the very beginning of this whole ordeal, pushing and pushing him. And Solana has always been the object of her father’s anger, but Roman seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen. 
That means he’ll have to get creative with his punishments.
If he can’t hurt her, he’ll go after the things she loves. 
The few items in that home that she holds near and dear, items that belonged to her mother.
She knows he would dispose of them all so that all that would be retrieved by the movers would be clothes.
And the thought of the only things she has of her mother being discarded like trash makes her sick to her stomach.
She can’t give him that opportunity. 
Looking up, she’s met with two sets of eyes on her. One indicating irritation and the other, curiosity. Swallowing, she stutters, “I’m sorry. I—”
“No.” Roman’s interruption is stark and to the point. “We’re already here. She gets it now.”
“But—”
“Move.”
Xavier’s jaw ticks, but he does as such, stepping to the side. Roman looks back at Solana, motioning for her to walk in. 
Instantly, she’s going to the key holder. She has to make sure she gets her mother’s stuff before anything. But, the key to the attic, the key that’s sat in the same spot since she was a girl, is suddenly missing.
Her stomach drops. 
Without hesitation, she turns to her dad, asking, “wh—where’s the key to the attic?”
Solana knows before he even says anything that she’s not going to like his answer. She just doesn't realize just how much she’s not going to like his answer.
“Oh, I put it in your old room on the dresser.” Solana’s chest is immediately tight, her stomach dropping. Xavier gives that sly smile and little shrug. “Figured there’d be some things you’d want to grab as well.”
It’s hard for Solana to not start crying right then and there, standing between her father and her husband. Two men who dislike her for very different reasons. 
And maybe dislike isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling her father has toward her. Because one has to have an inhuman level of vitriol toward another individual to put her in the situation he just did.
That room….Solana hasn’t been in that room in years and planned to never enter it again for as long as she lived. And he knows that. Knows that there’s nothing in there she wants. Knows that she’d rather walk on burning coal barefoot than enter that space of horrific memories and unspeakable horrors. 
“I–I—”
“Is something wrong?”
Roman, watching this whole exchange closely, is instantly annoyed. It’s obvious something is wrong, there’s some story with this old room of hers, because she looks just as terrified as she did last night. And something about this pisses him off all over again, because this man is still trying to defy his orders, still trying to find ways to inflict his torture without lifting a finger. 
“Where’s the room?” 
Solana doesn't expect that question to leave Roman’s mouth, but it instantly brings on another layer of dread. He doesn’t know why she can’t go in that room, and he can never know, but that not knowing is probably going to result in him pushing her to hurry up so they can get the hell out of here.
But, that doesn’t happen. He steps towards her dad and repeats in a calm voice. “Show me.” It’s then she realizes that he’s asking so he can retrieve this key for her.
And that confuses the mess out of her because why? He doesn't have to, doesn’t need to. It doesn’t benefit him in the slightest. 
So why?
But for Roman, it’s simple. He’ll take any opportunity presented to piss off this son of a bitch, and undermining every attempt Miller takes to mess with Solana presents an opportunity for Roman to assert his dominance. 
And it’s obvious by the pure terror that crosses Solana’s face that, for whatever reason, she has zero desire or even ability to enter this room. It does cross him a bit strange that she would have such a reaction to her childhood bedroom, something that typically holds special memories for people.
Until he enters said room. 
Immediately, there’s a darkness about the aura, something heavy and unsettling that he can’t necessarily describe but most definitely feels. It’s a stark contrast to the design and decoration, lots of pink and girly shit, a couple of stuffed animals sitting on the top of the dresser. It’s on the dresser he notices a shattered picture frame that in picking up he sees a photo of a young woman, dark curly hair, beautiful, light eyes and a breathtaking smile. There’s something about her that reminds him of Solana. Her mother. This has to be her mother.
For reasons Roman doesn’t quite understand, there’s something suddenly uncomfortable by looking at this photo, a ghost, someone from the past. A person cruelly and violently ripped away from her family.
It….it hits too close to him.
Laying the broken photo frame down, Roman continues to assess the room and suddenly notices scratches on the door and the wall that holds the door. But, they’re not scratches that come from furniture being moved or kids being rough, they’re clearly nail marks. As if someone was dragged and the scratches a testament of their fight against whatever attack they were facing.
Snatching the key off the dresser, he then redirects his attention to the poorly cleaned splashes of dried blood on the carpet near the bed. He’s suddenly frowning of sorts. 
There’s a story here. A story that paints a dark, grim picture. One that makes Roman slightly curious about just what the hell this girl has really been through in this hellhole?
Not wanting to stay in that creepy ass room any longer than necessary, he walks back out into the living room and ignores Miller’s obvious irritation to reach Solana the key.
Accepting it, she offers the first smile he’s probably seen on her since their first meeting. “Thank you.” Her voice is the usual mixture of soft and quiet but also….grateful. She’s probably the only person in history to ever be so happy at being given something as simple as a key. But Roman isn’t stupid. He recognizes the deeper meaning. 
Nodding, he motions for a few of his men to follow her as she heads for wherever the attic door is located. 
That leaves Roman alone with his least favorite person in the world.
“She can’t take everything, you know.” Xavier shares. He reminds, “she has a brother. My son and I deserve to have something of my late wife to—”
“I don’t care.” And he doesn’t. He honestly, truly doesn’t. “She can take whatever she wants.”
“I understand that she’s your wife, but she was my daughter long before she became your wife. And you’re standing in my house.” Xavier doesn’t skip a beat to contend. “I think you should also remember that, Tribal Chief.”
To be fair, Roman would like to think he’s done a half decent job all day managing his temper. He’s yet to maim or kill anyone which is commendable for him, in and of itself. But something about Xavier pisses him the fuck off to the point where he doesn’t give a damn about controlling his temper. 
And that’s exactly what happens. 
In a matter of seconds, Roman has Xavier by the throat, pinned against the wall, squeezing so tightly he can practically feel the man's bones pressing against his fingertips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Xavier’s eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as he helplessly grasps at Roman's grip, which only makes the Tribal Chief squeeze harder. “Don’t ever fucking forget who runs this. I run it all!” As much as Roman enjoys playing the long game with this bastard, there’s only so much he can put up with. Miller needs to know Roman is not his daughter, but he damn sure will dictate that any interactions with said daughter go through him. “You see Solana when I say you can see her. You talk to her when I say you can talk to her.” Intensifying his grip, Roman notices the color draining from Xavier’s face. And it’s probably the best thing he’s seen all day. “You live because I allow it. You’re still fucking breathing because I will it.” Recognizing Miller is at the door of unconsciousness, he finally lets the man go, enjoying the sight of him coughing violently, nearly laying on the floor. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that shit.”
Xavier, wisely, doesn't say much after that. And neither does Roman, who simply makes sure his men help Solana gather all she needs, which isn’t that much outside of clothes. He starts to ask her about her car, but something tells him it’s under Xavier’s name, which is why he decides against it.
He’ll just get her another one. 
Roman doesn’t want her to have shit to do with this family, largely because he doesn’t want shit to do with this family.
And he knows what the first step toward initiating that separation will be.
—--------
The Warehouse has always been Roman’s escape.
17,000 square feet of escape, completely revamped and redone by him in his early twenties. It’s a massive compound that serves as both a place to train and compete. The former of which being why he’s present and needing to speak to the one person who he has in charge of all the day to day workings of the Warehouse. 
But, that’s all she’s interested in outside of competing herself and only training those with some fire to them.
It’s why he’s not surprised when Nia takes one look at him, then Solana, and with a snort and roll of her eyes, simply says, “no.”
Roman isn’t an idiot. He knew his cousin would immediately decline, would know what he wanted to ask before it could even leave his mouth.
If only he cared about her objection. 
“Wait here,” he mutters to Solana who only nods, hugging the jacket around her body. Solo remains nearly inches away from her. She looks so out of place, a small part of him can’t blame Nia for declining.
Nia continues to walk the balcony, eyes clearly checking in on the various sets of people training. Roman does as well, just not nearly with the same amount of focus and attention. That’s what he has Nia for.
His blood cousin and close friend since they were kids, there’s few people in this world that Roman trusts, and Nia is grouped in that category. She’s a worthy member of the bloodline and a hell of a person to have alongside you in a fight. 
It’s why she's the perfect person for this task.
“Nia.”
“I said no, Roman.” She turns to him, smirking, taunting him in a way only she and his close family can. "You know, that word that you hate?”
It actually makes him chuckle, a speckle of amusement in a day full of anything but. “If you know I hate it, why are you saying it?”
“Because unlike the rest of the world, I’m not your bitch.”
It’s partially true. Nia has never been one to shy away from being completely and, often, ruthlessly honest with her cousin. It’s something Roman sometimes appreciates, enjoying the occasional challenge and differing perspective.
This isn’t one of those times though. 
He again reiterates. “She needs to be trained.” 
It’s abundantly clear that Solana has no backbone, and he can’t entirely fault her for that because it’s also clear that she’s never really had the chance to develop one. But, that’s no longer the case, because while he can deal with the stammering and quietness, her fragility has to go. 
She has to learn to stand up for herself.
She needs to learn how to fight back.
Nia turns around with a sarcastic chuckle. “You really think that girl can be trained? I saw her at the wedding. She looked terrified the entire time. You breathe too hard in her direction, and she’ll probably have a fucking panic attack.” Roman is briefly taken back to last night. Nia hasn’t the slightest clue how true her words are. “She’s not built for this life.”
Roman doesn’t entirely disagree. If there was ever a person who’d do well and significantly better in something cookie cutter, white picket fence type shit, it’s Solana. But she’s here now, this is her life, so they need to make the best of it. She needs to learn how to survive in this life. and he expresses as such. “Regardless, she needs to learn to defend herself to some extent.”
Nia shrugs, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So teach her.”
“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.” It’s almost entirely true. There are already so many hats that Roman has to wear. Adding on another one that includes teaching a traumatized young woman how to fight is not an option. Even more, something tells him that Solana would do better training with a woman. She seems most skittish around men.
Nia scoffs, pointing to herself. “And you think I do?”
“Nia….” As much as he enjoys sparring with his cousin from time to time, his patience has grown thin. His tone darkens. “I’m not asking you.”
While tempted to continue to push back, Nia isn’t a stupid woman. She can recognize when Roman is about to lose his cool. “Fucking hell….” With a heavy sigh and shrug of defeat, she accepts. “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to like her.”
“I never expect you to like anyone.” He chuckles, adding. “And Nia…..take it easy on her at first.”
Nia curses, instantly accusing, “You think coddling her will help?”
“I know being too rough with her won’t.”
A hard exterior is built from experience and tolerance. Roman fully believes that. However, something tells him his new wife has had enough experiences that anything more could push her closer to breaking point. So approaching it almost gingerly would probably wield the best outcome. 
Nia is, justifiably, vexed. “Whatever. I don’t have time for your weak ass wife. I’ll have Naomi teach her the basics, and once she learns how to actually throw a punch without crying, I’ll take over her training.” 
Roman has no issue with this. Solana seemed to be fine around Naomi at the wedding, so it might actually be a good match. “Fine. Just keep me updated with her progress.” Roman adds, starting to walk away.
“Do I have a choice?”
Instantly, he answers. “Nope.”
Nia’s laughter behind him brings a small smile to his face. 
Rejoining the group, he finds Solana looking just as nervous as he left her. “Let’s go.”
He turns and so does Solo, Roman deciding he’ll talk with Solana about starting training back at the house. But, her small voice calling his name, the first time he’s heard her say as such draws his attention.
Turning around, he asks, “yeah?”
She swallows and starts that damn stammering. It’s hard for him to not snap at her to just get it out. He hates that beating around the bush bullshit. “Umm, can we—uhh, stop somewhere?” Roman does his best to hide his irritation. Where the fuck does she need to go? “I just—-I noticed you don’t have a lot of ingredients at the house, and—and I need some things so I can cook.”
Initially, Roman’s first reaction is to tell her no, that she doesn’t need to cook. He doesn’t need her to cook for him. He does just fine on his own, but that’s the thing that makes him pause. He’s not on his own anymore. She needs to eat too.
So, he agrees, “fine.”
“Ayo, uce!”
Jesus Christ.
Roman needs a vacation. A week long vacation, because the way the past 24hrs has drained him more than anything he’s experienced in the past year is criminal.
The twins jog over, exchanging what is an undeniably awkward acknowledgement to Solana. And he doesn't blame them. She’s so damn docile that they probably don't know how to interact with her.
“Let us catch that ride with you.”
Roman shuts his eyes. “Why?”
Jimmy is the one to answer. “You wanted us to debrief you on that thing from earlier, remember?”
Roman realizes they’re referring to the message he had them send Solana’s brother, which he does want to hear about but not necessarily now.
“She needs to stop at the store before we head back to the house,” Roman informs, hoping the twins will just take a car back to the house to meet him their to debrief.
But that’s too much like right, because they end up in the same SUV as him and Solana, seated in the back, while he sits in the middle with her. And it’s not missed upon him how she’s practically tucked in the corner of the SUV, notebook out as she writes away while his idiotic cousins go on and on in the back about whatever.
The old lady from the library wasn’t kidding. This damn girl is always writing. 
When they arrive at the grocery store, Roman reaches for his wallet, sliding out his black card and handing it to her. “Here. Use this.” 
Roman hadn’t thought about this until just now, thought about the need to make his money available to her. He makes a mental note to have his accountant add Solana to all of his accounts and have cards mailed out with her name. In the meantime, she’ll have to deal with using his.
“Thank you.” She accepts the card, quickly asking, “what’s my limit?”
“What limit?”
Her cheeks redden as she explains. “Like….like how much I can spend?"
“There is none,” he answers with a shrug. “Just get what you need.”
Jey suddenly leans forward, tapping Roman on the shoulder. “Ayo, Big Dog, lemme run this by you.”
“No.”
Of course, the word goes in one ear and out the other. “So, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s not what she thinks. I don’t even care about that bitch, but she’s not trying to hear me. Going on and go about how I ain’t shit, I don’t treat her right—you know, the usual—-and so finally, I just snap on her ass cause who the fuck you think you talking to—”
Jimmy agrees. “She acting like you ain’t got no options.”
Jey sucks his teeth, “man, that’s what I’m saying. Like, I ain’t gotta put up with that shit!”
“Hell naw!”
The idea of grocery shopping doesn’t appeal to Roman in the slightest, but neither does listening to his dumbass cousin complain about his marriage problems to his equally dumbass brother. So, it’s the lesser of two evils, really. 
“Fuck it,” he mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening the door. Solo and Solana’s eyes fall on him as they’d yet to enter the store. “I’ll go with her.”
Solana looks expectedly surprised as Solo simply nods and gets back in the passenger seat.
“I’ll make it quick.”
Roman says nothing, walking alongside her, still providing enough distance to not make her uncomfortable. 
As long as the twins are harping on and on about stupid shit, she can take as long as she wants.
Once in the store, Solana pushing the cart, Roman realizes she was writing down a grocery list that she uses to track the needed items as they peruse what feels like endless aisles. Granted, he hasn’t been inside an actual grocery store in probably close to two decades, if not longer, so maybe this is normal for a grocery store. 
It’s when they reach the produce section that she seems a bit stumped, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly perplexed.
He starts to ask her what’s wrong, but she walks over to one of the workers and takes him slightly by surprise when she starts speaking in a different language. Spanish, he eventually settles on. It’s also the first time he thinks he’s ever seen her smile. Outside of when he gave her the key And laugh. That one is definitely a first. Both small and quiet, but still, a first. She seems to know or at least be familiar with the worker who digs around the produce and reaches over a packaged bag of whatever produce it is. 
It’s when she returns to place the produce in the basket, continuing to walk, that he asks, “you speak Spanish?”
She looks up at him, but not for too long, as if doing so is forbidden, explaining. “My—my mom taught me. She was originally from Mexico.”
Roman figured as such from the picture he saw in her room that Solana’s mom was Hispanic or had some type of Central American ancestry. He’s also surprised by her answering with more than just 3 to 5 words, providing more information than he asked. 
It’s not something he necessarily cares about, but it doesn’t annoy him like it typically does when people give him a longer answer than what’s necessary. 
“Are—are your cousins always like….like that?” Again, she takes him by surprise, up until the point where she immediately goes into apologizing. “I–I don’t mean it in a bad way. I would never—”
“Yes,” he cuts off her rambling. It’s unnecessary because the answer is simple. “They are.” With a mutter, he adds, “they never shut the fuck up.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. That smile smile, this time conjoined with a small laugh that she does a decent job trying to suppress. And it’s like she catches herself, changing the subject as she asks, “umm, are you—like—allergic to anything? Or is there something you don’t like? I can learn—”
“I can eat anything.” It’s a simple, truthful answer. It also seems like something she’d been wanting to ask but only built the courage to do so at the end of their current conversation, even if brief as hell.
Solana doesn’t say much after that, and it confuses Roman when she tries to grab items on shelves much higher than what exceeds her reach. It confuses him because it would be significantly easier for her to just ask him to reach it. Granted, something tells him just her asking to be taken to the grocery store seems to be her daily quota for requests.
So he takes it upon himself, hand on the small of her back, ignoring how she tenses at his touch, to tell her to step aside as he easily retrieves the item. With a tuck of her hair behind her ear and a small “thank you,” she continue shopping but this time actually, still with that same irksome gentleness, asks him to reach items that she cannot. It’s not a lot, just a couple.
And it’s not long before she’s done, checking out with his card that she makes sure to give back to him immediately. He gets the sense that that’s something she thinks is important to him.
It’s not.
The worst he can see her doing is going crazy at fucking Barnes and Nobles.
Roman has his men load the trunk for her, something that also seems to take her off guard. Like she’s not used to the assistance.
And she probably isn’t. 
————
Samantha Irvin has been on Roman’s revolving roster of women since he was in his teens. The longevity being that It’s always been the easiest with her. Sexually, at least. Their compatibility in that one area, the only one he really (only) cares about, is astronomical. But lately, more in the past few months than anything, she’s dropped a comment here and there about wanting more. 
He’s ignored them everytime. 
Roman has never promised Samantha anything more than what they currently are: fuck buddies. She knows this, just like she knows she’s not the only woman he’s fucking. Nothing about that should indicate him wanting more with anyone, including her.
Well, other than the wedding band now on his finger.
Samantha’s gaze falls on that wedding band, a bitter chuckle leaving her mouth. “I still can’t believe you actually did it.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. Discussing his shitshow of a marriage is the last thing he wants to do and far from the reason he left Solana in the middle of the night to come see her, to come work off his frustrations.
The same reason he invited her over tonight. 
Last night was a dumpster fuck, without a doubt. But today with Solana was….decent. Not amazing. Not awful. Just some strange space in between. Even as they arrived back at the estate and she went straight into cooking, creating something he can’t pronounce but can honestly say was delicious, a meal she delivered to him in his office. There was something manageable about that, this level of she does her thing, he does his, and if their paths cross in the process, he can deal with that.
The intimacy though….that’s something he’ll have to figure out, have to navigate, just not now. Not tonight. 
Right now, he just needs Samantha’s talented mouth on him.
She moves her hands up his chest, biting on her bottom lip. “She’s just a little girl, baby. You need a woman who knows how to please you.” Roman knows the other side of what she’s saying or rather what she’s not saying. Another subtle, or not so subtle depending on how you look at it, hint that she’s the one he should settle down with.
In all honesty, he has, or had, zero desire to settle down with anyone.
Especially not with Sam. She’s the kind of woman that’s good for fucking and nothing else. As much as Solana’s extreme passivity annoys the shit out of him, he’d pick that over the bitching Sam would do. He just knows she’d be on his ass about stupid shit like fucking other woman and not paying her enough attention. Like she’d think she’s somehow above him doing who and what the fuck he wants just cause he put a ring on her finger.
Way too needy.
But at least he can actually fucking touch Sam.
Kinda hard to make a baby with someone who has literal fucking panic attacks just from being touched.
It builds up his frustration again, hence Roman grabbing Samantha by the back of her head, forcing it back. She hisses, both from pain and pleasure. It’s another thing he does actually enjoy about her. She lets him be as rough as he wants and needs.
“Why are you still talking?” There may be a slight dim in her eyes at his question, but she hides it well. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” He releases his grip and shoves her to her knees. “Put that mouth to actual good use.”
If she’s hurt by his brusque tone, she doesn’t show it, simply bringing her hands to unbuckle his pants. “I got you, daddy…” 
She gets his zipper down when a scream sounds throughout the house, causing her to freeze in her motions as she shoots Roman a confused look.
“What the hell?” Samantha’s obvious irritation is the last thing he hears before adjusting himself as he heads out the room and down the hall.
For some reason, Roman already knows what to expect before he even reaches Solana’s room. Opting against knocking, he opens the door and finds her twisting and turning in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving up and down, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.
Yeah….just as he expected. 
Sighing, he walks over to the bed, sitting on the side. “Solana.”
“No.....” she’s crying in her sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare. Or night terror. “Mom, please…don’t leave me.”
Roman tenses. Immediately, he knows exactly what her nightmare is. He brings hands to her shoulder, shaking her. “Solana, wake up.”
“No…..”
He says her name again, a bit louder, firmer, “Solana, wake up.”
“No!” She screams again, shooting up from the bed, immediately fighting and pushing against his body. “Leave me alone!” She’s crying, clearly fighting against the demons one faces once in life but forever battles, even when they’re gone. 
It’s a permanent scar on the soul.
“Solana,” he says again, still stern, but somehow gentle. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” It’s the ‘safe’ word that seems to trigger something for her, mouth still ajar, painting heavily but no longer struggling against him. “It was just a bad dream.”
There’s a fleeting thought he has about pushing some of the flyaway hairs out of her face, but it’s gone before he can really process let alone act on said thought.
Solana looks at his hands on her forearm and immediately tugs them back to her body, hugging herself. She drops her head, eyes closing, “I’m—I’m sorry.”
His eyes take her in, studying her, “it’s fine.”
“I—I need some air.” She kicks the blankets off her body and swings her legs over the bed, hurriedly grabbing a notebook off the dresser and rushing out of the room past a smirking Samantha.
Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the strange array of emotions, or something like that, he’s experiencing.
He hasn’t been this exposed to this kind of behavior in years.
This may be more complicated than he realized. 
And it’s as he stands up from the bed, walking near the door that Samantha smirks. “Did she seriously say mom?”  His eyes snap to her as she runs her hands up and down his chest. “What a fucking child.”
Her words take him back, reframe things so that it’s not Solana the child crying for her mother not to be taken from her. It’s a young boy. Burned, bloody, and beat, fading in and out consciousness, the gaze of fiery flames in his peripheral vision, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils, the sound of wails and sirens all mingling together from the shock of it all. 
Roman catches himself, forcing those buried memories back where they belong in the very back of his mind. He then looks at Sam for a good five seconds before demanding, “get the fuck out.”
She pauses and then asks with an uncomfortable laugh, “what?”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” he repeats, shoving her hands off him. 
“What did I sa—”
“Get out!” Roman snaps, volume and tone making her jump. He probably scared her. He also doesn’t care. He just wants her gone. And she does as such, walking away without another word of protest. 
Left alone, he tries to gather himself, moving back to his room.
So much for a fucking distraction.
 —----- 
Roman finds her out back on the patio. 
He needed to clear his head, get back into his tunnel vision focus, and the gym he had included when he built the house is the perfect place to do that. Two hours later, recentered and showered, he readies to call it a night. But, he realizes he probably shouldn’t do as such until he makes sure Solana is at least partially stable enough to be left alone. 
And she is. 
She’s laid out, sleeping on the rattan lounge chair, a closed notebook tucked into her side. Roman recognizes it as the same one she was writing in that day at the library as well as the one she used for her grocery list just earlier in the day. 
He settles down on the chair next to her, studying her. Even in her sleep, she looks….sad. And for the first time in the midst of all these strange experiences with her, Roman understands. He understands her sadness, understands her difficulty, understands the memories that clearly haunt her.
The same way they used to haunt him. 
His hand goes to his tatted arm, intricate tribal tattoo hiding permanent remnants of that night of hell. The night that he once had the same kind of night terrors about. 
Noticing the breeze, he walks back into the house, grabbing one of the throw blankets on the sofa. Roman is careful to not directly touch her as he lays it over her body. A part of him is tempted to carry her back to her room, but he remembers these kinds of nights. The kind where it’s a challenge to escape the memories, let alone find a place and mental space to turn your brain off enough to just sleep.
So he leaves her alone, allowing her to enjoy the only escape she clearly has in this life.
173 notes · View notes
surshica · 1 year
Text
RUMOR HAS IT..
: CL16
genre: fluff,angst? (if you squint),social media (smau) + written
warnings: translated french and korean,cussing
A/N: imma just add angst just in case i forget but if you squint maybe it’ll be there? also broken humor here i made this in the morning soo excuse any typos..not proofread btw!
synopsis: charles is in a new relationship with a runway model and fashion icon reader—all is well until a rumor comes around saying he is cheating on you with your bestie.. (fc: tingting_lai)
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc,yourbestie,lilymhe,pierregasly and 828,927 others
yourusername yacht trips with you are always wonderful <3
tagged charles_leclerc
yourbestie y’all are so cute it makes me wanna puke <3
alex_albon werent you there with them…
yourbestie yeah but that doesn’t mean i wasnt third wheeling half the time…
yourusername you literally invited your bf..
yourbestie he fell asleep 😒
arthur_leclerc …slanderous.
charles_leclerc everyday with you is a wonder day mon ange <3
liked by yourusername
pierregasly i think imma throw up
maxverstappen1 me too
landonorris me three
charles_leclerc go away.😐
f1wags beautiful as always!!
user5 check your dms bestie…
user3 drop the workout routine.
user2 okay BUT how does he bag someone like you. TELL ME THE SECRETS
user4 right the math isn’t mathing !
user1 he fr must of bribed her with like a castle in monaco or smthing
liked by yourusername
yourusername i wish 🫤 i kinda just got stuck babysitting him
charles_leclerc that’s not true and you know that…
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f1wags
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liked by pierregasly,yourusername, and 30,743 others
f1wags was dmed a photo of what looks to be yourbestie and charles staring at eachother lovingly while yn is away! is this the case of playboy charles returning after years of being in a relationship with yn 👀😉🫣
user1 doesn’t yourbestie have a bf…
user6 yeah and it’s charles’ brother!!
user5 SOMETHING DOESNT FEEL RIGHT
user1 nah..she a brother hopper😭, yn and arthur deserve better
user8 idk where yall seeing the love like eye contact because i for-one do not see it!!
user9 RIGHT like it doesn’t make sense, it was yourbestie who introduced charles to yn so why would she want to get with him now when she had all those years ago to get with him? ppl making stuff up.
user8 it’s like you were reading my mind!
user10 it shouldn’t be our business too!
user3 PIERRE LIKED THIS?!:!he probably knows something we don’t…
user5 @pierregasly spill the beans mister; i know you know all the f1 gossip
user4 okay but why did yn like it too? does she know something too?
user2 yn liking this is definitely giving hot girl revenge arc!!
yourusername now wtf is this?
user13 SHE REPLIED. OMG SHE KNOWS.
user4 YN REVENGE ARC YESSS
user3 charles gonna regret he hurt this girls feelings
user9 we love a good villain arc!
user10 her replying is iconic
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yourbestie
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liked by charles_leclerc,yourusername,lilymhe, arthur_leclerc,lewishamiliton and 682,167 others
yourbestie cheers to an 14 year friendship! you truly are the world to me, you are like the sister i’ve always wanted. i cherish every memory with you, i am greatful for everything you do for me! i can’t wait to see what the future leads us too~ 너무 사랑해요!! i love you so much
yourusername YOURE SO ADORABLE. :( i wish you weren’t busy so we could hang out today, 나는 당신을 더 사랑 !!! i love you more
yourbestie I KNOW IM SORRY something came up last minute but i promise to make it up to you in a girls day<3
yourusername yeah you better.
yourbestie anything for you!
yourusername @charles_leclerc take notes!
charles_leclerc you two are literally just flirting with eachother in the comments…what more do you want me to do:(
arthur_leclerc feel my pain
user3 aint no way she posted this while quiet literally fcking her bff’s bf behind her back..
user7 THIS IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING
user12 not until you find out she flirting with charles.
user9 can y’all take these negative ass comments somewhere else and just enjoy the fact ITS AN 14 YR FRIENDSHIP.
liked by yourbestie,arthur_leclerc,charles_leclerc
user13 i want what they have.
user4 brother hopper!!!😂
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yourusername just posted a story
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f1wags charles leclerc and your bestie spotted roaming around monaco ‼️ charles and your bestie were reported to go on a shopping spree and they looked very happy and giggly. reportedly they came out of cartier with two bags, both were holding a bag. maybe this a sign that these two are actually together 👀🔥
user1 no fcking way..
user3 ON THE FRIEND-VERSARY ??
user6 didn’t she tell yn she was busy..
user13 busy fcking charles..thats for sure
user5 this is more disgusting than i thought
user9 imma give them the benefit of the doubt maybe we weren’t supposed to see these photos!!
user10 we should fr respect their privacy, idc if he is cheating on her or not this is fr creepy.
user7 okay but coming out of Cartier with bags?! now i’m even more suspicious..
user11 i feel so bad for yn and arthur, the fact they liked this too. they need to find better bf and gf fr😭
yourusername 진심이야, 이거 진짜야? 🫠 seriously, is this real?
arthur_leclerc lets not get ahead of ourselves, you guys don’t know what’s going on..
user6 arthur you know what is going on between these two? and what they are doing together?
arthur_leclerc yeah, i know the plans but i don’t like that you guys are jumping to conclusions like this
yourusername 🤔
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a small pout formed onto your lips, ohone in hand screen frozen on the f1wag page. a part of you wanted to be in disbelief of what you saw. charles had told you that he something important to do and bestie name had said she was busy as well. the dots were slowly connecting as if it was a game of squares.
the thought of your boyfriend of almost two and a half years cheating on you with your best friend was not a pleasing thought, scowling at the idea of it. you were sitting down on the couch knees tucked into you, your head resting on them staring down at the phone screen. dozens of thoughts flooded your brain.
is he cheating on me? how long? does arthur know he is being cheated on? are they for sure cheating on me? they’re childhood friends i don’t think he is cheating on me! bestie name doesn’t even like charles like that! am i being played? the thoughts had flooded your brain you had completely forgotten to get ready. the vibration of your phone had broken you out of your dazed state. looking at the caller id it was him. it was charles, the words in bold “lover boy<3” had popped up with a cute picture of him. pressing the accept button you put it on speaker,
yn : hello?
lover boy<3 : mon ange! are you ready?
yn : ..uh yeah im almost ready!
lover boy<3 : okay i’ll be there to pick you up in 15 minutes~
his voice sounded deeper through the phone, a small smile formed onto your lips
yn : where did you go charlie? you’ve been out for a while..
lover boy<3 : have i? désolé chérie je devais faire quelque chose d'important, sorry honey i had to do something important why? are you worried about me? how sweet
charles had a small smirk formed on his lips, he just dropped off your bestie name at her house as he called you.
yn : who said that? no i was just curious, thats all.
yn’s smile slowly formed back to a pout. he didn’t tell her but rather just said something important, it didn’t make her feel any better.
yn : (sigh)
lover boy<3 : what’s wrong mon-
yn : 꿀 honey i’ll you back i need to go to the bathroom.
you quickly ended the call ruffling your hair taking in a deep inhale before getting up to go get ready quickly.
after rummaging through your closet you found a cute brown pleated skirt, to match with it you grabbed a white tank top and black and white cardigan with a black beret. looking at the mirror you smiled at the outfit heading to the bathroom to do some quick makeup. nothing too fancy
charles furrowed his brows at the erupted ending of the call. he didn’t think much of it shrugging it off. maybe you were just tired was a thought he had, not once did he think you found out he was with your bestie name.
you had just finished in time, charles texted you that he was outside. grabbing a small purse putting your wallet and phone in there pranced your way to the front putting on a pair of brown boots you had just bought. the walk to the car felt dreadful. the more you stepped closer more thoughts flew over your head, you were starting to convince yourself that maybe he was cheating on you with her.
you needed to shake the idea out of your head and you had to do it now, your hand was on the car door handle but you hesitated. charles noticed your hesitation, his brows furrowed some more as he leaned over to the other seat opening the door for you. “mon angé are you alright?” he watched you climb into the seat buckling up. one thing about charles, he is a person who is very expressive from the body language to the faces to the voice itself. yn looked at him placing a small peck on his cheek, “yeah im just a little tired that’s all”
charles stared you down he was trying to see if you were lying or not, “well tu sais tu peux toujours me dire n'importe quoi mon ange, si ça te dérange tellement dis le moi. you know you can always tell me anything my angel, if it bothers you so much tell me.” he tucked a piece of your hair behind your exposing your cheek that got what felt like a genuine kiss. the ride to wherever you were going was suffocating, both of you hated it. you cleared your thought brushing your hand against his free hand. “so mister charles where was this important place you went to today?” you wanted answers so you kept pushing for him to tell the truth. 
charles quickly looked and you before looking back at the road, “if i tell you where i was and what i was doing it wouldn’t be a secret mon ange!” he was being very smiley, your lips formed an o shape. “why do you wanna know? are you trying to stalk me?” charles snickered his shoulders slowly bouncing up and down. you shook your head clearing your throat, “i don’t need to do that i already have someone for that..” your tone was bitterly.
you were staring out the window, you didn’t want to bare the sight of him. what if questions flew everywhere you got more upset with yourself you didn’t want them, charles noticed the shift in attitude; “mon ange seriously tell me what’s wrong,” concern laced his voice as he grabbed your hand placing mini kisses on them “, i don’t like seeing you upset. i can any questions you have just talk to me..”
a sigh escaped your lips looking at the pouty monegasque, “why were you with bestie name today? she said she was busy and you said you had an important thing to do today. are the two of you you kn—” your throat throbbed as each word managed to escape your throat, “what?” was all charles could reply with, he quickly parked the car before facing yn.
“rumor has it you were with bestie name today at a mall together..there of pictures of the two of you together charlie” his grip on your hands tightened as each word flowed out of your mouth. “chérie im not cheating on you with bestie name, i would never.” his heart broke seeing you think of all that, “okay but what was important that the two of you had to go to the mall together?” you just wanted to few reassurance.
“well..fuck i cant say it but its a surpise. you weren’t supposed to see those photos seriously, im not cheating on you when i went to the mall with her earlier. we went to go get some gifts for arthur you can even ask him mon amor!” he watched as her shoulders that were tensed up became relaxed. “oh. i’m sorry that i jumped to conclusions so fast it wa—”
charles chuckled letting go of her hand, “it’s okay mon ange. its those stupid fan accounts fault for making you think that.” he said getting out of the car to go open the door for you.
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he had taken you to a nice small cafe, it wasn’t very popular but it was one of your favorites. the honey outside atmosphere was definitely to die for, the way green plants coated everywhere. the two of you sat at what was a four person table. pointing at the two empty seats charles just smiled, “two people will be joining us but they’re running a little late..”
“i didnt get to say this but you look beautiful my love” charles who grabbed your hand the table fiddling with it. “am i never beautiful to you?” you scoffed playfully—charles was taken aback from that comment “no no you’re always beautiful you just look extra beautiful!” charles justified or well he believed. “so you don’t think i’m extra beautiful whenever?” you pouted playfully. charles who was lost for words “no you are just so—you know what i mean mon amour!!” he sighed frustratedly causing you to giggle at his frustration.
“you’re so mean mon chérie~” he scrunched up his face to make it look like he was upset, “i’m not mean you are just easy to pick at!” you justified, “mean.” “no” “mean” “no” “charlie we sound like children..” “well you started it” he smirked making you roll your eyes at him. a comfortable silence fell between the two, you started to believe the other two were just not going to come at all.
“you have pretty eyes charlie” you blurted out without a care, a blush crept onto his face. he didn’t know if it was the compliment or if it was the fact you were staring at him as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world, maybe it was both. “you think so chérie?” he felt the grip of his hand that had been interlocked with yours tighten. “i don’t think so i know so” she had such loving stares it made charles weak to his knees. the stares she gives him make his heart flutter like a teenage boy seeing his school crush, he was always lost for words, he was little butter melting in your touch and stares.
the truth is, he was upset with himself finding out that you had these thoughts, these thoughts that he was cheating on you with your best friend. he wanted to get you a gift and he didn’t want to fuck it up; he believed bringing someone who you held dear to your heart and who knew you best would’ve been the right choice—he didn’t think once you would take it as him cheating on you with her bestie. it hurt him inside.
he had always wanted to show you how appreciative he was of you, he never had the time but now he does. you do so much for him and he wants to thank you for that, the states you give him; they were loving and warmly. the way you love him throughout his career taking time to visit his races it did something to him. from how you looked at him, touched him, smiled and laughed at his jokes, how you talk about him so much to family, how you make playlist about him, and even made sure he felt like he was the priority in everything—it did something for him. since the first day he met you he knew you were the one for him.
the way you made sure you’re there for him after the races and that you were okay made his heart skip beats. he had always felt like the knight in shining armor in previous relationships but with you he felt like the princess and you were the knight. he loved everything about that; it was something new to him something he never would’ve thought he would love. the small cartier box warmed in his pockets. you are always doing stuff for him he just wants to do one simple thing for you, is that too much for him to ask for? he knew he had to wait for arthur and bestie name to get here but he seriously couldn’t.
he thought any longer he waited he would spill the beans about everything, “chérie you know how much i love you right?” his lips parted as his hand slowly made his way to his pocket grabbing the small cartier box. “always know, you tell me like every hour even on the race track” you had teased a smile evident on your lips. “tu sais à quel point je t'aime mais sais-tu à quel point je t'aime ? Je te chéris tellement, j'aime tout ce que tu fais pour moi, j'aime la façon dont tu es toujours là pour moi, peu importe à quel point je fais mal sur la piste de course ou je suis contrarié. tu fais tellement pour moi, c'est vraiment comme un cadeau! you know how much i love you but do you know how much i love you? I cherish you so much, I love everything you do for me, I love how you are always there for me no matter how badly I do on the racetrack or how upset I am. you do so much for me, it's really like a gift.”
“tu es un cadeau que je dois protéger de tout ce qui arrive, je n'ai jamais été doué avec les mots mais chaque fois que tu es avec moi, je fond. tu as sur moi cet effet que je n'avais jamais ressenti auparavant dans les relations que j'avais. you are a gift that i have to protect from everything that happens, i have never been good with words but every time you are with me i melt. you have this effect on me that i have never felt before in the relationships i had.” charles titled his head to the side closing his eyes taking a deep breathe, “charlie what’s this about?” you had questioned sitting up properly instead of slouching. “just promise me something mon amour. promise me that you will be with me no matter how hard times are.” charles slowly pulled out the red velvet textured box from his pocket.
it was a small rectangular box with gold like lettering saying “cartier”. charles had placed it into your hands, “you do so much for me so the least i could do is buy a promise ring.” his voice turned soft, it was silky soft. the box on the other hand was in your grasp you were staring at it, a prominent smile rushed to your face, “charlie..” you had opened the box to see a singular gold band with jewels graves into it, “its a promise ring, a promise that i will love you endlessly.” charles held up his hand showing how he was already wearing his.
“its beautiful…charlie. i love it” you took the ring out of the box putting it on a one your right index finger, “and i promise to love you endlessly.” a blush creeped onto your cheeks, “thank you 아기. 사랑해요 baby. i love you” charles wasnt fluent i.n korean that’s for sure but he knows how to say he loves you, “i love you too mon ange.” he grabbed your hand with the ring on it placing a soft kiss, smiling to himself.
“CHARLES I TOLD YOU WAIT TILL WE GOT HERE.” you heard your bestie name’s voice boom near you, it startled you but it made you giggle. “well you two were taking too long and i got impatient…hurry up next time” he scoffed, your bestie name didn’t let that slide and she started to punch him lightly. “i hope you didn’t fuck it up. be glad i went with you to get the proper ring size!” your bestie grabbed his ear and the two started to fight.
it truly did feel like home with them, “i’m guessing he gave you the ring?” arthur said standing behind you with his hands in his pockets, “you knew?” yn looked at him your lips forming an a line. “of course i knew thats why i tried to defend them but it was no use at that point, people jump to conclusions too much” he shortened a chuckle. “yeah you’re right they do.”
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername,yourbestie,lewishamiliton, alex_albon,pierregasly,maxverstappen1 and 1,827,289 others
charles_leclerc its always rumor charles is cheating on his gf but never rumor has it that charles is still and forever madly in love with his girlfriend of two years.
user8 SEE YALL WERE WRONG ADMIT IT.
liked by charles_leclerc
user9 they’ll forever be happily in love yall are just haters!!
liked by charles_leclerc and yourbestie
user10 my cuties ㅠㅠ
user15 charles yn defender till i die.
user4 SO CUTE OMG
user1 is that a promise ring?? that’s so..i’m melting
yourusername 나는 내 아름다운 소년을 너무 사랑 !! <3 i love my beautiful boy so much
maxverstappen1 soo i dont get to yell at him for cheating on you?:(
yourusername LMAOO NO
charles_leclerc HUH WHATD I MISS MAXIE?
maxverstappen1 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️
user13 get me someone who looks at me the way charles looks at yn.
liked by yourusername
pierregasly listen if charles was gonna fumble this one i would whole heartily become a homie hopper‼️
lewishamiliton agreed
charles_leclerc i know where the both of you live…
lilymhe stop i was ready to fight him after what i saw. the two of you are so cute !
charles_leclerc WHY IS EVERYONE TRYING TO FIGHT ME OR STEAL MY GF??
yourbestie okay where is my thank you? i helped you 😒
charles_leclerc do you not see these comments??
yourbestie i agree tho if you fumbled her i would’ve ended you🤷‍♀️
landonorris we need you on the grid more
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yourusername
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liked by yourbestie,danielricardo,charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 926,518 others
yourusername 기다리는 자에게 좋은 일이 생긴다<3 good things happen to those who wait<3
tagged charles_leclerc,arthur_leclerc,yourbestie
arthur_leclerc SEE THEY CAME OUT GOOD!
yourusername thank you my little photographer!!
charles_leclerc i thought i was your photographer?
yourusername you were busy fighting bestie name…
yourbestie so beautiful they grow up so fast ㅠㅠ
charles_leclerc the loml truly is beautiful ❤️
liked by yourusername
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@ surshica | rb & follow.
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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 months
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— oh my god, derek's here! | Glastonbury Series
well here's the third part of this mini series then. i hope it doesn't completely suck ✌🏼
massive thank you to @alotofpockets and @lvnleah again for the ongoing help throughout writing this and putting up with me throwing ideas at them all the time.
pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey
summary: the second day of the festival and leah's dealing with her hangover but of course it's more reason for monkey to be a menace
you can check out the whole masterlist here: chaos fc masterlist
also it's come to my attention that the order of it might be confusing so i'm working on writing something up to make better sense of it :)
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"Goooood mooooorning!" You are kind enough to shout out loud the next morning to wake the blonde from her slumber and no doubt she is definitely going to feel somewhat rough this morning, “Good morning! Good morning!”
It is kind of her own fault for getting in that state though last night.
So, she deserves this after all.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” You not so gently poke and prod her until she stirs from her sleep, because you’re absolutely going to make the most of this while you can, “Rise and shine, Le!”
“Agh, Monkey,” The blonde grumbles, instantly trying to pull the sleeping bag over her face in an attempt to drown out your voice no doubt, either than or block the light on, “No, my head. Stop!”
A shit eating grin takes over your face as you try and peel back the sleeping bag, “Come on, Le. Wake up, wake up. I’m bored!”
“Then go and find entertainment somewhere else,” Leah murmurs, scrunching her eyes shut as the brightness hits her, “Monkey, I swear to god. Stop it!” She shouts as you attempt to try and pull the hands away from her face and by the look on her face, she instantly regrets it.
Snickering to yourself, you are so kind enough to not so gently sit right on top of her and continue to poke her, “You’re the one that drank probably more than your liver can handle. It’s not my fault that happened!”
The blonde huffs, showing her clear annoyance for you waking her up, “I’m just enjoyin’ myself.”
“What and lettin’ loose? Cos’ you definitely did that!” You remark, beaming a wide smile as you can’t help but enjoy the blonde looking so… dishevelled, considering how much she drank, “You’re still wearing last night’s clothes, ouch!” You note.
“I don’t even remember how I got back here,” Leah admits, slowly sitting up and rubbing her eyes tiredly before she glances around the tent, “Agh, jesus. My head is still pounding. How much did I drink?” She questions, placing her head in her hands.
“You really took full advantage that Buddy isn’t with you and the whole idea of being sensible went completely out of the window– Phew, gone!” Making the noise of an aeroplane accompanied with hand gestures, you get your point across, “I’m not sure, but it was enough for you to get absolutely hammered.”
“Oh my God,” Leah murmurs, holding her hand in her hands.
Remembering what happened the previous night, you scramble to find your phone as you pick it up and unlock it, “I do know that Holly literally had to help you back to the tent last night though and you almost ended up getting into some random persons instead, so that was funny to watch,” You pause as you flick through your photo album to find the video, “Oh! I even managed to video it as well. Watch it!”
That being said, you all but shove the phone in front of her face to show her antics from the previous night while the blonde continues to look completely mortified.
“God, no, delete that!” Leah demands as she tries to reach for the phone out of your hands as she winces at the sudden volume, “Tell me that you didn’t post that anywhere!”
“I wouldn’t dare,” You try to act innocent.
It’s not a complete lie, you didn’t share it across any social platforms… But you did send it somewhere.
“I know that look and you would,” Leah grumbles, attempting to rub her temples to ease her current headache, “Tell me you didn’t post it.” She repeats, looking at you wearily.
Biting your bottom lip, it’s not long before you can’t keep a secret, “Yeah, you’re right, I totally would… And I did, well kinda,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck, “I posted it to the group chat!”
“WHAT?!” Leah shouts and immediately regrets it once again as she winces, “Monkey, are you serious– What group chat?” She questions, trying to find her phone in the tent.
“The family one,” Grinning proud of yourself, you switch to the family group chat that you are in amongst the rest of the Williamson/Baker clan and show Leah the chat, “Your brother found it hilarious. See?” You ask the grumpy blonde.
“You’re such a little menace!” Leah mutters in disbelief and shakes her head slowly, “That better not go anywhere else!” She warns, pointing her index finger directly at you.
Holding your hands up in mock surrender, you smirk slightly, “I can promise that, but I can’t say much about anyone else though,” At least your honest about that one because you could have said worse, “Anywho, can you get up and deal with the hangover, cos’ I really wanna go and watch Jamie Webster perform!”
“I’m not in the mood to go anywhere right now other than back to sleep,” Leah says as she attempts to lie back down and close her eyes.
“Nuh uh, you can’t do that,” You’re very much against the idea of that, there was so much more to do today, “Come on, Le! I happen to know the perfect hangover cure!”
“Oh, yeah?” Leah looks at you sceptically.
“To drink more, duh,” You tell her like it’s the most obvious answer, “You can’t feel a hangover if you’re just still drunk instead!” You state your idea.
The blonde scoffs in disagreement, “That doesn’t seem like a sensible option to decide.”
“Yeah, well, it’s either that or you suffer a hangover all day,” You tell her honestly while you shrug your shoulders, “You want breakfast? I got it sorted!”
“God, no,” Leah’s face instantly pales at the mention of food and you can’t help but grab the pizza box with leftovers in and shove it right in front of her face, “I’m gonna be sick– Get that out of my face!”
“Heh, why?” The mood you’re in today, you can’t help but want to wind her up about things. “Cold pizza happens to be a great choice of breakfast!”
Wrinkling her face in disgust, Leah is very much in disagreement with that one, “Ew, that’s gross, Monkey. When did you even get pizza?” She questions.
“I got it last night,” You tell her, munching on a cold slice of it, “On the way back to the tent, cos’ you forgot to feed me since you were so busy drinkin’ and all. Oh, by the way, how was the kebab?” You ask her, waiting to see if she remembers any of it.
“Kebab?” The blonde looks confused.
“This one,” You gesture to the photo on your phone that you swipe across to, “See? I knew you wouldn’t be able to remember it!”
“I… I don’t remember it,” Leah admits feeling completely embarrassed by her actions the previous night, “I don’t even like kebab meat.”
“That’s what I said!” You shout aloud in agreement.
“Monkey, my head,” Leah grumbles and covers her head in her hands again, “Lower your voice, please– How can you even stand to eat cold pizza right now?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to munch on the pizza, “Hey, I love pizza and pizza loves me!” You quote the blonde’s words from an interview she did once with Sky.
“You’re seriously using my own words against me?” Leah questions in disbelief.
“Yus,” You say with a mouthful of pizza still, “Are you sure you don’t want any of it?” You offer, holding the box up in front of her face again.
“No– Get that out of my face, Monkey!” Leah grumbles, batting the box away from her.
“Safe to come in?” Holly’s voice calls from outside the tent, “I brought you some painkillers.” She adds.
“All safe in here,” You reply loudly to the blonde.
Unzipping the tent, Holly pokes her head into the tent, “Ah, good morning Le! How’s the hangover?” She teases her cousin.
“Oh it’s just peachy,” Leah murmurs sarcastically in response.
“Well you certainly did enjoy yourself last night,” The older blonde can’t help teasing her cousin still.
“I heard all about it from this one,” Leah tells her, exhaling a sigh as she winces, “Please tell me you’ve got painkillers?” She asks.
“I do indeed,” Holly chuckles and passes the packet to Leah along with a bottle of water, who doesn’t hesitate to pop them in her mouth and wash down with water, “So, no round two today then, eh?” She jokes.
“Absolutely not, I don’t think my liver could handle it, honestly,” Leah says honestly as she screws the lid back on the bottle.
“You drank enough for the entire weekend,” You snicker in amusement.
“I haven’t felt this rough in a while,” Leah groans as she does no more than try and lay back down, shoving what she thinks is a pillow over her face until she gets a mouthful of pink fluff, “What the– What the hell is this?” She spits it out and looks at you confused.
“Oh! Meet my unicorn… I haven’t decided on a name yet though!” You grin in triumph as you take it from her, “I got it last night while you were drunk!”
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“Come on, come on!” You exclaim, try to rush the two blondes through the crowd of people to get to the other stage where you’re keen to watch Jamie Webster perform, “Hurry up, slowpokes!”
“If you expect me to run after you then you have another thing coming with how I feel,” Leah remarks in disagreement at the idea of running to catch up with you, “That one has too much energy.” She murmurs to her cousin beside her, still feeling the pounding in her head.
Holly chuckles lightly, “Paracetamol still not kicked in yet then?” She wonders.
“No, sadly not,” The blonde scrunches her face up, “God, my head. What on earth was I even thinking of drinking that much?” She questions.
“I don’t know, but you seemed to really be enjoying yourself so there’s not much harm,” The older blonde laughs in amusement at her cousin's unusual antics, “I saw the comment your brother left, so you know you won’t be living that one down now.”
“You’re not kidding there but that’s all down to Monkey,” Leah huffs and shakes her head.
“Hurry up you pair!” You shout aloud impatiently that they both seem to be taking forever to walk at the pace they are, “Come on, we’re gonna miss it!”
“Yeah alright, chill out. We’re coming,” The blonde responds, rolling her eyes, “Who even decides to have a set this early in the morning?” she murmurs aloud in protest.
Holly snickers in amusement, “Le, it’s like 11…”
“And I’m still hungover– Uh I think I’m gonna be sick or something,” Leah states as a wave of nausea washes over her and her face pales.
“Hurry up!” You can’t help but continue to be impatient, not liking the pace of the older girls when you just want to get there and watch the performance, “Hurry up! Hurry up!”
“Yeah alright, we’re coming, Monkey!” Leah huffs and shakes her head, “Honestly I swear you have no patience sometimes.” She adds.
“I wanna watch it today, not tomorrow!” You’re very impatient and you hate waiting around, so you do no more than what you're good at and make a run for it through the several people in the crowd.
“Monkey– Ow,” Leah immediately regrets the decision as she winces in pain, “She’s going to get lost– I knew I should have put a tracker on her. I’m not going to be able to find her!” She panics slightly in realisation, her eyes widening.
“She’s got her phone, I’m sure she won’t be too far ahead,” Holly reassures her cousin straightaway, “She’ll be fine, knowing her, she'll most likely be at a food stall or something.” She jokes.
Leah smiles slightly but that doesn’t ease her worries, “I hope so. That wouldn’t look good if I end up losing her here.” 
“Hi, girls!” Grace greets, meeting up with them ahead of the set, “How’s the head this morning, Leah?” She jokes, having seen her state last night.
“Oh I’m feeling as fresh as expected,” Leah replies sarcastically.
Josie winces at the comment, “You look rough, mate. You were so gone last night.”
“God, not you pair as well,” Leah groans, placing her head in her hands.
“Someone had a bit too much fun last night, didn’t they?” Holly takes the opportunity to tease her cousin.
“You really were dancing like no tomorrow,” Grace chips in.
“And now you can barely stand,” Josie adds as she looks around and notices your absence, “Where’s Monkey? It’s quiet.”
“She ran ahead,” Leah murmurs, trying to not think about the worst about you running off.
“Ah I see, well no doubt you’ll find her soon enough—” Grace is cut off as you bolt back over to them.
“Oh my God, Derek’s here!” You exclaim at the highest volume possible, making Leah instantly wince and hold her head in her hands again, “Guys! Come see, follow me, follow me!”
Oops?
“Oh… There she is!” Holly jokes, shaking her head in amusement.
You don’t waste time to take hold of Leah’s wrist and not so gently pull her in the direction of where you found Derek, while the rest of the girls reluctantly follow you taking the lead.
“What in the… Who’s Derek?” Grace is left baffled but reluctantly, they follow you.
“Le, looky!” You point your index finger in the direction of the cows, “Looky! Le, it’s Derek… And he’s got a brother as well!” Your excitement is given and you can’t help but the loudness of your voice.
Leah on the other hand isn’t as thrilled, “Monkey, please… Not so loud. My head is fragile this morning.” She tells you, trying to rub her temples to ease it.
“You only have yourself to blame there,” You state, shrugging your shoulders carelessly before you turn to look at the makeshift cows, “Looky! Hi Derek— Whoa! This is like, so great. Can I get a selfie?” You ask them.
Grace and Josie look deeply concerned, “Is she… What is she…” Neither of them quite know how to express their words, looking at you with a mixture of facial expressions.
“This is Monkey,” Leah murmurs, shaking her head.
“You just have to go along with what she says. It’s the best bet,” Holly adds into the explanation.
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“Where is it?” Leah questions while she is routing through her purse and looks directly at you.
Standing in the line of a food stall to get something to eat before the next set which happens to be Cyndi Lauper, Leah goes to pay with her own bank card and has the sudden realisation about the fact that your bank card is missing in her purse, even if she remembers seeing it yesterday before you both left.
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” You answer, trying to act innocent.
Of course you know what exactly she is talking about, you just find it funny to mess with her right now when she is in the fragile state that she is.
Leah scoffs and shakes her head, “Don’t play that game with me, you know exactly what I am talking about here!”
“Nope, nuh uh. I literally don’t have any idea what you’re going about right now,” You tell her, continuing to act innocent as you try to play off looking confused.
“Your bank card, Monkey. I know that you have it!” Leah states, firmly. “Where is it?”
“Oh that thing,” You tut slightly as you tap your forehead in a thinking motion, “Nope, soz’ dunno. I can’t help you there.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday,” Leah narrows her eyebrows and gives you a look that you usually just cower and agree to not be such a menace, but today is a different game, “Where is it?” She repeats.
Trying to stop the shit-eating grin from your face is proving hard, “I told you already that I don’t know.”
“And I told you already that I’m not buying that,” Leah doesn’t back down as she holds her hand out for you to pass her your bank card, “I know you it, Monkey. Hand it over.”
“I don’t have it,” You continue to insist, loving winding up the hungover blonde a little bit too much.
“Monkey!” Leah raises her voice a bit and then winces in regret.
“Fine, alright, alright,” You reluctantly give in, sliding your card out of your pocket and handing it to her, “I don’t see why I can’t handle my own money. I’m perfectly capable of it!”
The blonde scoffs in clear disagreement, “Oh really? Because the giant ass unicorn that I discovered in the tent this morning doesn’t really scream that to me.”
“Well there’s also a cowboy hat and a green neon flashy light, but we won’t talk about them,” You murmur, shoving your hands in your pockets and hoping she didn’t hear that.
“And this just proves my point!” Leah looks at you in disbelief, waving her hand about in the air, “Do I even wanna know how much you spent?” She asks.
“It really wasn’t that much, I was sensible,” You tell her, honestly.
You're sort of telling the truth there, but of course you won’t mention taking out a lump sum at a cash machine just in case you find something else that you just need to buy.
“You and sensible do not belong in the same sentence,” Leah remarks while shaking her head as you both walk back to meet up with the rest of the group, “Did you know anything about Monkey’s spending spree?” She asks her cousin.
“Huh, what,” Holly takes a moment to understand what she’s on about, “Oh, no, I’m just as surprised as you are about it.”
Your eyes widen and your mouth is agape in disbelief, “Wha… That isn’t true!” You exclaim, seeing the look that Holly gave you that the blonde couldn’t see with her head turned, “Yeah no, actually, yeah, I wandered off when you were drunk last night all by myself.”
“I’m not letting you leave my sight again, god knows what else you would end up buying here,” Leah insists, shaking her head at your spending habits.
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“Fifteen minutes until I finally get to see Camila Cabello live, this is like, a dream come true!” You are literally bouncing up and down in excitement over this, from the minute you found out the line-up, this is someone that you were adamant you want to go and watch live.
“I thought you said that about watching Scouting for Girls,” Leah jokes, ruffling your hair much to your annoyance of her doing that.
“Someone’s excited, huh?” Holly teases lightly.
“Duh! It’s Camila Cabello, people!” You exclaim, you don’t mean to be rude but you’re freaking out inside and you have a tendency to not think before you speak sometimes.
“Yeah we can’t tell that you’re excited at all.” Grace chips in, sarcastically.
“Roar!” You burst out with it and it does get you a few odd looks, but you don’t care, you’re way too excited about the fact you are literally minutes away from watching Camila Cabello.
Holly looks at you in concern, “Wha… You’re so weird sometimes, kid!” She tells you.
“So? It’s better than being normal though, ain’t it,” You shrug your shoulders in response.
“Well… You have a point there,” Josie chimes in.
“Hey, I’m here for a good time, not a long time!” You grin at the older girls and turn to look at Leah, “Le! Can you believe it? We’re gonna be watching Camila Cabello soon– I’m so excited I could scream!”
Leah exhales a sigh as she slides her phone back into her pocket, “Er, I hate to burst your bubble, Monkey, but you’re not going to be able to watch that,” She drops the bombshell on you.
“What?” You shout aloud, looking at her like she’s out of her mind, “Why not? Of course I am!”
“Well not unless you can be in two places at once,” The blonde explains, biting her bottom lip, “I’ve just checked the performance times.” She adds.
You stare at her confused, “What’re you on about?”
“Louis Dunford is on stage in ten minutes,” Leah tells you.
“Oh,” You frown in realisation before you shrug your shoulders, “That’s okay I’ll just skip watching Louis and watch Camila instead– I can always see Louis another time.”
Now it’s Leah’s turn to stare at you in bewilderment, “You cannot be serious?”
“Wha… Cos’ I don’t wanna watch Louis Dunford? Boo hoo!” You joke, winding her up about it knowing that of course she’ll be passionate to watch him considering she’s a lifelong Gooner.
So are you, technically, but come on this is Camila Cabello!
Tickets to her shows are expensive, it’s not like you can watch her perform at the drop of a hat when she is on tour.
“Whoa, okay, alright. I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t just say that,” Leah clutches her hand over her heart, “Come on, we’d better head over there now. Girls, which stage is it again?”
“Left field,” Holly states.
You furrow your eyebrows and cross your arms, “I don’t get why I can’t just stay here and watch Camila Cabello, she’s better!” You insist.
Probably a bad idea to say these direct words to the blonde, who looks at you deeply offended.
Oops… You did it again.
“Enough of this nonsense, Monkey,” Leah clicks her tongue in disagreement, “You play for Arsenal, you’re my kid– You’re going to come and watch Louis Dunford perform. I will take you to watch Camila Cabello another time!” She insists.
“But Le. you don’t get it– This is Camila Cabello that we’re talking about here, this is like a once-in-a-lifetime chance!” You try and get your point across, because this really is a whole different experience to witness but no, of course you’re not allowed to watch it because you’re stuck with a blonde that all but bleeds Arsenal and god forbid you disagree with watching him.
“Well in this case, consider that Camila Cabello is cancelled today because you’re not missing out on the chance to watch Louis Dunford!” With that being said, Leah’s all but dragging you across the other side of the field to the left field stage where Louis Dunford is set to perform.
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“Lighten up kid. What’s with the long face?” Holly jokes, nudging you lightly when she sees you looking miserable still, “Nobody should be this unhappy about going to see Coldplay!”
“This is my sad face because I’m well, sad,” You murmur as you keep your hands shoved in your pocket as you follow the older girls in the direction of the pyramid tent to watch the next performance of the night which would be Coldplay, although you’re still upset about not being able to watch Camila Cabello perform.
“What’re you sad about?” Grace wonders looking at you in concern, but of course she already knows the answer.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t made your opinions and thoughts very clear the whole set that Louis Dunford did, you grumbled in complaint and refused to even enjoy listening to the music.
No matter how much Leah tried to encourage you to join in, it wasn’t like you could do much to escape when the blonde had her arms wrapped around your neck and you were all but forced to stand there for the better part of 40 minutes.
Although you may have found yourself singing along the lyrics to a certain song…
At least there was the advantage that Leah wasn’t extremely drunk today, sipping on her water, but that meant she was more level headed and you couldn’t sneak off like planned.
“Because somebody made me miss Camila Cabello performing live, which is literally a dream of mine and it couldn’t happen, because Malfoy over here is a diehard Gooner and decided that I needed to watch a song be performed which I’ve already heard a dozen times before!” You rant, still pretty upset about the fact that you did miss out on the opportunity to watch the women perform which is literally something you have wanted to see even through the early days when she was a part of Fifth Harmony.
Leah rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “Are you never not dramatic? You can’t seriously still be upset about this one, are you?”
“What’d you think?” You scowl at the blonde, “It’s not fair I had to miss it!” You shout aloud in protest, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I fear we’re gonna hear about this for the rest of the weekend,” Holly jokes, trying to keep the mood light.
You scowl at the older girls in annoyance, “It’s not fair though, watching Camila would have been totally sick!” You exclaim, making this a big deal because it really is.
“I’m sure you’ll get over it, Monkey,” Leah remarks, rolling her eyes again and shaking her head at your dramatics, “Don’t act like you weren’t there belting the lyrics out to North London Forever, you didn’t seem too upset about it then.”
Damn, you’ve been caught out…
“Yeah well, it’s not like I had a choice!” You threw your hands up in protest, “It still hurts, I’m pretty cut up about it inside, you know?” You state, wiping a fake tear away.
“Oh yeah, you seem really upset about it,” Leah snickers in amusement, “That’s great acting that one is, Monkey. You deserve an Oscar.” She adds.
“God, I’m ready to sit down. My feet are killing me!” Leah complains at the end of the performance, “Pretty sure I have lost my voice as well from screaming so much!” She adds.
“Mine too– I think I have danced way too much tonight,” Holly states,  feeling completely exhausted.
“I can’t wait to get back to the hotel!” Grace exclaims in agreement.
You scrunch your face up and look at Leah, “See? Why couldn’t we stay in one of them instead,”
“Camping is part of the experience, Monkey,” Leah insists, grinning and slinging her free arm around you, “You can’t deny it hasn’t been fun so far!”
“Still though… At least there’s wifi there!” You whine and complain, being the typical teenager that you are and can’t survive without wifi, “I can’t even FaceTime Kyra because the signal out here is so bad!”
You’ve been wanting to FaceTime your best friend ever since you got here, but with the delay of time zones and not to mention the terrible connection, it’s been difficult to do that.
“I’m sure you’ll survive a couple more days until then,” Leah rolls her eyes in disagreement, despite the fact that she knows you really do miss your best friend.
“Kids these days, eh?” Holly teases you lightly.
Pouting at the older blonde, you’re not so keen on her teasing you, “What is the next act of the night?” You ask Leah.
“Bed time,” Leah replies, patting your shoulder.
“Wha… No way. That’s– It’s still early!” Your protests are loud, you have so much energy that you feel like you can easily run around the whole place.
A yawn escapes Holly’s mouth as she looks at you in confusion, “Kid, it’s almost midnight,” She pauses for a second to yawn again, “How’re you not tired?”
“Dunno,” You answer with a simple shrug of your shoulders, “But I haven’t even had a single energy drink either! I could keep going all night!” You exclaim, proving how wide awake that you still are.
“I’m so exhausted,” Grace remarks as she yawns.
Josie nods tiredly as she leans on her friend for help, “Yeah, me and you both.”
“Cos’ you are both old and boring,” Sticking your tongue out at the two of them, “Come on, there’s so much more to do still!”
“How… How are you still going kid?” Holly looks bewildered at your non stop energetic energy.
“Yeah, I thought you’d have crashed out on the ground for sure by now,” Leah chips in, reminding you of that eventful night in Nashville that you still aren’t able to live down.
“Wha… That only happened once!” You whine in protest, of course Leah would be the one that would bring that up again, but then again you probably do deserve it when you have been winding her up all day about her hungover.
The blonde chuckles faintly, “I was convinced it was bound to happen again today. Come on, let’s start heading back!” She gestures in the direction of where the tents are.
“Yeah, we’re gonna head back that way to get an Uber back to the hotel,” Grace chips in, sliding her phone into her pocket after you figure she has just booked it, “See you all tomorrow!”
“Night girls,” Josie waves to the three of you.
“Night girls!” Holly repeats, waving to the two of them.
Leah waves and starts to pull you gently towards the direction of the tents, “Come on Monkey. Let’s go back to the tent and we can sleep.”
Scrunching your face up in disgust, you're not too much a fan of that, “I’m not even the slightest bit tired,” You spin around in a circle and something in the distance starts to catch your eye which you want to check out.
“You might not be, but we are,” Holly speaks with the tiredness clear in her voice.
“That’s cos’ you’re both old and can’t hack it any longer!” You’re quick to fire back at them, trying to walk off in the opposite direction.
“Cheeky sod,” Holly murmurs in shock.
“Come on, let’s go!” Leah states, trying to pull you in the direction, much to your own disappointment, “Monkey, come on– No, no, this way!”
“I already told you I’m not tired, I have so much energy!” You whine in protest, “I’m free as a bird– Ooo, I wanna check that out!” Your attention is caught by neon lights that of course you want to go and look at more.
Cos’ pretty lights are great and all, right?
 “You have a pretty light back in the tent, stare at that instead,” The blonde tells you, firmly as she continues to hold onto your wrist knowing full well what you are like, “You you can burn off the last bit of energy you have running round the tent for all I care, but I’m tired and I’m not going to leave you here by yourself.” She adds.
“Why not?” You huff in protest and reluctantly walk back to the tent much to your disagreement, “I could totally make friends with the hippies. Smoke a lil’ bit and have a blast!” You mumble.
Leah looks at you with wide eyes, “No, I definitely don’t agree with that. That doesn’t sound safe at all!” She’s not so keen to let go of your wrist as the three of you push through the crowd to get out of the main bit of the festival.
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“Hey, Le!” You poke and prod her as she lies in her sleeping bag fast asleep, which is the complete opposite of your own wide awake state right now,  “Le, are you awake? Le, I gotta ask you something!”
It’s been a few hours since you left the festival, Leah and her cousin were pretty eager to fall asleep but you on the other hand, well you can’t sleep not one bit so you spent the first couple of hours scrolling through your Instagram feed, watching several TikTok’s and you had even managed to speak to Kyra briefly which was great.
You really do miss your best friend a hell of a lot, it just sucks that you can’t see her until after the Olympics.
Now you just have the problem of being wide awake and bored, so in return now you wanna be a menace.
Leah’s had at least a few hours of sleep so it’s perfectly fine to wake her up now.
It’s only 3 am, it’s not that bad.
The blonde beside you grunts in displeasure of being woken up, “Monkey, wha… What’s wrong?” She’s half asleep as she looks straight at you, “Are you okay?” She asks, concerned.
“I can’t sleep,” You admit to her as you exhale a sigh.
“That’s it?” Leah furrows her eyebrow as she reaches out for her phone to check the time, “Monkey, I thought there was something wrong with you! It’s 3 am, it’s late. Go to sleep!”
You can’t help but huff in disagreement, “But Le, I can't sleep. I gotta tell you something” You insist, sitting up properly in the sleeping bag, “It’s super important!”
“I’m sure whatever it is can wait until tomorrow morning,” The blonde grumbles, trying to close her eyes and go back to sleep, “But for now, sleep.”
Scoffing in disagreement, you shake your head, “Sleep is for the weak.”
“Then I guess I’m weak,” Leah murmurs with her eyes still closed, “Monkey, please just go sleep.” She tells you, tiredly.
“I can’t sleep, I’m not even the tiniest bit tired!” You whine in protest, “I really do have to tell you something though!” You turn to look at her and poke her again for her to stay awake.
Leah groans and opens her eyes to look at you, “Alright, fine, go on then… What is so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow to tell me?” She questions.
Your eyes lit up glee, “Have you ever wondered about what happens when you put sprinkles on ice cream?” You question the blonde, who looks at you with a pinched eyebrow, “Like, the sprinkles on ice cream is an explosion of flavours, innit?”
“Wha…” Leah continues to look bewildered, “That didn’t make any sense at all. Monkey, is there an actual question you want to ask me?” She questions, trying to understand the way that your brain works sometimes.
“That was the question!” You exclaim against her words.
The blonde pinches the bridge of her nose, “Monkey, it’s almost 3 am now. Now isn’t the time for you to be asking daft questions like this,” She states, firmly.
You huff in protest and sit there for a few minutes in silence, “Oh, oh, I have another really important one to ask you!”
Leah grumbles and swears under her breath, “Monkey, I swear– No more questions, go to sleep. It’s late!” She tells you, firmly.
“But Leeeeeah, this one is really, really important!” You continue to insist, trying to fight the idea of going to sleep, “Like super duper important!”
“Monkey, sleep, now!” Leah tells you firmly while giving you a look that you are all too familiar with when you’re in trouble but you're not too bothered about that right now.
You have a super important question that you just need to know the answer to.
“I really need to know the answer to this one,” You tell her as you pout dramatically but you still have a ton of energy inside of you.
Leah grumbles and shakes her head, “I swear to god– What? What is it that you're so desperate to ask me? It had better be an actual question this time, no messing about!”
“Yus alright then,” You grin at the blonde, “Do you reckon that lightning mcqueen needs car insurance or life insurance?” You wonder.
Oh my God, I cannot even…” Leah pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales a sigh, “No! No more, that’s it! Lie down, close your eyes and go the fuck to sleep!”
“You swore, you need to put money in the swear jar!” You gasp dramatically, pointing your index finger at her, “Don’t be a hypocrite either!”
“I couldn’t care less about the damn swear jar right now,” Leah grumbles in annoyance, “It’s late, go to sleep, now!”
You huff in protest and shake your head in disagreement, “I can’t, I’m not tired. It’s an important question that I need to know the answer to!”
“I don’t care, I am!” The blonde replies in frustration, “I’m not listening to any more of this nonsense. Go to sleep, Monkey!” She repeats.
“One more thing…” You try to tell her much to her annoyance which you don’t quite get the memo of it yet.
“No, no, nothing else,” Leah interjects holding her hand to shut you up, “I’m not listening to any more of this. We have another full day tomorrow, so sleep now!”
“I’m not tired still though,” You whine in complaint and go back to scrolling through your phone.
“Maybe if you get off your phone that might help?” Leah murmurs as her eyes slowly flutter shut again, “Go to sleep, Monkey. I’m not dealing with you being grumpy tomorrow.” She adds.
“Sleep is for the weak, who needs sleep? Certainly not me,” You speak your thoughts aloud huffing in disagreement, “I reckon I could stay awake all night and not feel the slightest bit tired– I don’t even need an energy drink, not like I’d even be able to get away with drinking one– I can’t wait until I can finally see Buddy again. I miss her so much!”
You're yapping so much that you don’t even realise Leah has fallen back to sleep until you hear the sound of soft snores beside you, “Pst, Le?” You poke her gently as she continues to sleep, “I can’t tell if you’re pretending to sleep to ignore me or you’ve actually fallen asleep– Well guess I’ll just waffle to myself instead then.”
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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gatheringbones · 1 year
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[“Later in the day, while Heather and I were making the bed and talking about the chores we needed to get through the next morning, she used a male pronoun in regard to me. “Well that’s gonna be weird, huh?” I said. “Not saying ‘he’ for me anymore.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “I mean I want to transition. I want to become a woman… fully.” She paused and fell silent. I think the revelation that I was a transsexual truly hit her in this moment. She slowly started to comprehend that this didn’t mean I’d simply be cross-dressing around the house. It started to hit me, too. I wanted to transition genders, and there was a lot more to that than just hormones and surgery. Neither of us fully understood what it meant yet, or where to start.
The next day Andrew and James met me at the studio to talk about plans around the album and the future of the band. Jordan came, too, as he was again filling in as our manager. Until then, I’d been telling them that I was writing a concept album about a transsexual prostitute—the metaphor behind the feeling of having whored myself out to a record label was thinly transparent since James, Andrew, and I were all processing our own post-traumatic stress disorder from the past couple years of music industry hell. Previously, I’d been able to sneak a few subtle metaphors about my dysphoria in here and there. But an album focused entirely on it? I didn’t know how to explain that, and the new songs were not sticking with the guys.
James could make out a few lyrics to the title track through his in-ear monitors: “You want them to see you like they see every other girl / But they just see a faggot.” “Hey, man,” he said between takes. “Are you saying ‘faggot’ on this song? It sounds like you’re saying it a lot. Are people gonna be cool with that?”
I realized that the reason the words weren’t connecting with them was that they didn’t have the context. So I came out with it. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted them to understand. I couldn’t hold back the momentum of the day before. Once the truth was spoken, it could be contained no longer.
“It’s about me, and how I’m a transsexual. This is something I’ve been dealing with for a long time,” I told them. Once I started explaining it, I couldn’t stop. It was like an out-of-body experience where I saw myself, but was powerless to hold back the flood of words. “I want to start living as a woman, and to be referred to as Laura. This is something I’ve thought about a lot and isn’t going away, so I might as well embrace it.”
No one knew what to say once I finally stopped rambling. The three of them just sat there in the studio control room, looking down at their feet or at whatever lit-up piece of audio equipment their eyes could find, focusing anywhere but on me. We’d had some heavy conversations over the years—emotional moments where we’d told each other off or outright quit the band—but nothing compared to this. Andrew’s usually warm smile was locked in since I started talking, and it looked like it was going to melt off his face. His skin flushed red, trying not to flinch. There was nothing any of them could say. I broke the silence by asking them to come smoke a joint with me. We got high standing in a circle in the open back doorway. “OK, well,” I said. “I guess that’s all we’ll do today. How about we try again tomorrow?”
We shared the most comically awkward group hug, a horrible mess of pats on the back and overly extended stiff arms. They left, and I locked the door behind them. Oh fuck, I thought. I called Heather and told her that I had just come out to them. It felt unreal to speak these secrets aloud, hearing myself verbalize thoughts that had only ever existed in my head.
The guys had an hour and a half back to Gainesville to think about all that had just been unloaded on them. James has since told me that as he sat there stoned on that long drive home, a lot of memories over the past 15 years suddenly started to make sense for him. My lyrics, my behavior on tour; one by one, he had tiny flashes of realization about me in this new light.”]
laura jane grace, from tranny: confessions of punk rock’s most infamous anarchist sellout, 2016
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buttsmasher · 8 months
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Gage (Edited)
Been trying to go through my old stories and slowly re-upload them after I give them a review. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Tags/Warnings: Fag bashing, face farting, willing victim turned to unwilling, asphyxiation by farts, fart torture
Gage is a grade A prick. You pretty much learned that the moment he moved into the house. Your other roommate literally moved out because he couldn’t stand him. The only reason you’ve stayed is because the rent is cheap and the landlord isn’t complete trash. The other reason is that you have a sort of hate crush on Gage.
You understand he’s a prick and he seems like a bit of a fag basher, but dude has a rockin bod. And he has no sense of other people’s personal boundaries. One time when you had friends over, he walked out of his room completely naked to get a beer out of the fridge. Which you didn’t mind too much because you got front row seats to watch his ass jiggle. Your lesbian friends were mortified of course. Especially when he started to shake his hips to make his dick flop around. After that, you’ve all decided to do movie night at their house now to avoid any more incidents.
The other thing about Gage is that he’s a literal gas bomb. The dude is constantly gassy and it may make your dick strain against your shorts when you’re both watching TV and he lifts a leg to let out a massive fart. And look, if you’re secretly there taking quiet inhales of his stinky gas then no one needs to know.
It all comes to a head today though. You keep a journal, and you may or may not have written all your dirty fantasies about Gage in them. Looking back at it, probably not the best idea, but too late to change that now. 
You’re in the kitchen making scrambled eggs when Gage comes into the kitchen. “Good morning.” You mumble to him, not fully expecting an answer. He opens the fridge and pours himself a glass of OJ as he plays on his phone. He laughs at something before walking towards the kitchen table. 
“Hey fart slut, what’s for breakfast?” You freeze. Did he really just say that? He snaps his fingers a couple of times. “Yo, fag, I’m talking to you.” You slowly turn to look at him.
“Uhm, Scr-scrambled eggs?” You don’t know why it came out as a question. 
“Cool, I want cheese on mine.” He doesn’t even look at you as he plays on his phone.
“Oh, uhhh, I didn’t make enough for the both of us.” You look at the pan and push it around. 
“It’s fine, just give me yours.” 
“What?” He locks eyes with you.
“Let me put it another way. Give me your breakfast and I don’t post your dirty fart fantasies online.” You try to stay calm but you’re freaking out. You turn back around fully and focus on finishing the eggs, throwing cheddar cheese on top right before you finish. Your hands are shaking as you plate the food and bring it over to Gage.
“Anything else?” You say nervously placing the food and a fork down in front of him.
“Tabasco.” He doesn’t look up from his phone, you just do as he says. “Sit.” He says as you go to make yourself more scrambled eggs. “I gotta say, you’re pretty nasty. I mean, to like that shit, you gotta have some serious problems.”
“Fuck off.”
“I mean, to want to get on your knees to sniff someone’s dirty ass. That’s some dog level shit.” You watch as he stuffs his mouth with eggs. “Tell me, how are you any better than a dog?”
“You’re an ass.” Your chair groans against the floor as you get up. 
“Sit back down.” Gage says firmly.
“No, fuck you. I don’t have to take this.”
PFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFF
You freeze as Gage rips a five second fart. The smell hits you from where you’re standing. You can hear Gage laughing from behind you and you can’t help the shame that wafts over you. “You’re pathetic. You get one whiff of my ass funk and you can’t walk away.” You take a deep breath and calmly begin to walk to your room. “I have more where that came from, you know?” You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to ignore him. 
PFFFFFF
A high pitched fart hisses from his ass. “See? And they can be up your nose if you ask me nicely.” You’re not even looking at him and you can just see his cocky grin.
“What do you want?” You ask, knowing you’ve already lost.
“Heh, knew it.” You hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up. “You just need to beg.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Beg your daddy to fart up your nose.” He whispers in your ear.
“You’re an ass.”
“I know.” He turns you around and pushes you down onto your knees. “Beg doggy.” You lock eyes again, completely humiliated on the ground.
“Please, Gage, fart up my nose.” You say without enthusiasm. 
PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT
“Fuck, that was a big one you just missed out on. Beg.” You sigh.
“Please daddy, please make me your fart slut.” He laughs.
“Better.” He turns around giving you the view of his brief clad ass. “Get your face in it.” You do as he says, getting a whiff of the lingering scent of the last fart. “Just remember you wanted this.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFF
Airy farts warm your face as your nose gets overwhelmed by the absolutely toxic smell. It’s not like anything you thought it’d be like. “Wait.” You manage to cough out. “Wait stop.” You go to pull away but he holds you firmly in place.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He hikes his leg up slightly.
PFFFFFFFFFFFBBRBRBFFFFFTTTTTT
“Oof, that one’s gonna be bad.” He wasn’t wrong. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you're forced to endure that blast of a ten second fart. It’s absolutely eggy, and your eyes are watering. “Definitely wouldn’t want to be down there. But you’re liking this right fag?” You frantically shake your head no, wanting to pull away. “Aww, I knew you’d love my ass. Here, I’ll blow you a kiss.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFF
Another disgusting fart burns it’s way up your nose and down to your lungs. Your face is extremely warm and you can’t think straight. You strain to pull away from the toxic fumes constantly barraging your face but Gage’s hold is too strong.
PFFFFBRBRBRFFFFFFTTT
“Look, I know my brew is strong, but you’re the one who wanted this. And you begged oh so nicely for daddy to fart in your face. Who am I to get in your way of your dream?”
PFFFF PFF PFFFFFF PFFFFF
“It’s okay, I won’t judge you. Well maybe a little. Only cause you’re a fucked up a fag.” 
PFFBBRRRFFFTTT
It’s getting really hard to breathe down here. The only air you’re getting is Gage’s eggy farts. You’ve begun to uncontrollable cough and gag against his dirty briefs. 
“Man, imagine if I didn’t have these undies on. There’s no way you would survive that.” He laughs as he pulls his tight black briefs under his naked ass.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF
“Jesus, what did you put in those eggs? I bet you put in some extra fiber didn’t you?” 
“I know I’m a gassy guy, but damn, this is way worse than normal.” 
PFFFFFFFFBBBRRRRRRBRRRRR
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT
Everything is spinning around you and you’re having a hard time staying conscious. 
“Is it everything you hoped for faggot?” 
PFFFFF PFFFFFFFF PFFFFTTT PFFFFF
You feel yourself slump further into his musky ass, no longer able to keep yourself upright. You can hear Gage laughing as everything fades to black. A final fart hits your nose as you finally lose consciousness. “Night night fag.” Gage lets your body hit the floor before leaving you there.
When you awake again, you’re still on the kitchen floor. The smell of Gage’s ass still lingering on you.
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hopelessdazai · 1 year
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Hiii! I love your writing, please ignore this if your requests are closed I’m on mobile and sometimes it’s weird with showing symbols and stuff TT could I request fem reader head-canons with dazai,Chuuya and atsushi, basically they haven’t seen eachother in a long time (mission or whatever) and they’re being intimate again but the boys are like way more sensitive since it’s been ages please. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense or some things are wrong English isn’t my first language.
of course anon! I'll do my best . this might be a big one !! I didn't write any scenario sections because the post was already so so long, maybe another day !!
"Missing you" nsfw headcanons
contents ; nsfw, dazai x reader, atsushi x reader, chuuya x reader, reader is fembodied, switch!reader, biting, crying from pleasure, needy needy boys, breeding kink if you squint, biting, oral ( both recieving )
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Dazai Osamu -
god he is so touchy with you the exact second you're home. immediately his hands are on you and making you shudder the moment you're through the door. he was so patient waiting, he needs you now so so bad :((
he'd tried to pleasure himself while you were gone but it just didn't do the job like he would've hoped. it was so difficult without you and for sure everyone was hearing about it. (u can slap him it's okay)
he's praising you more then normal, before you went away he'd told himself that he'd do just fine without you but it's really made him realise how much he treasures and needs you. he just loves being close to you!!
you'll hear this multiple times on the list but god he's so loud. as soon as he's inside you he's making sounds you'd barely even heard from him before, whimpers and whines like an animal in heat.
there's definately multiple rounds. good luck trying to get back to work tomorrow, if you're 'lucky' enough he'll coax you into another one in the morning.
he misses so much about you :((. the sounds you make, the way your walls are so warm and inviting, your taste, how soft your skin is. everything like that!! he just loves you so much.
he probably won't be letting you go on another mission for a while. he couldn't handle all that time apart again!!
he cums pretty quickly the first round. he almost forgot how good you feel, so when he's bottomed out inside of you it's almost like reality sets back in.
tears up a little too. he's very very sensitive!! the time away from you was so stressful and having you so close again and like this is too much for him.
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Chuuya Nakahara -
he doesn't wanna pressure you back into it and be begging as soon as you get back like dazai does. he gives you time to relax again and cooks dinner before anything. he wants it, so bad, but he's scared to overstep immediately.
he's so lovesick, as soon as you give him the allowance to his hands are on you and his fingers are in you. he wants you to feel good, and hopefully if you feel good enough, you won't leave him again!!
say goodbye to the usual loving pace, you feel so good around him that he can barely control himself. sure, it's passionate, but he's rougher with you then he normally is. he's pent up!!
switching positions so often, he wants to make up for the time lost. one moment you're sat over his face and the next you're face down ass up as he hits deep inside of you.
again as I said, he's louder then usual. he tears up a lot quicker then dazai does, because it just feels so so good to be back inside you again.
he holds you so tight, in this time his favourite sort of positions are generally ones where you can be as close to each other as possible. he for sure would love to half hug you while he fucks you.
your markings he left previous probably wore off in this time, so he's remaking you during the session. he doesn't want to let you free from the constant reminder you're his!!
he doesn't go as many rounds as he usually would, he orgasms a lot quicker due to the time away so he's just trying his best to pleasure you enough to then hold you all night long. fully satisfied and stuffed with his cum :)
so many kisses. be it sloppy or tender, throughout the entire act his lips are on yours. he misses the taste of your tongue, and eating you out can only go so far.
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Atsushi Nakajima -
you thought the other boys were loud? rethink after you've heard atsushis volume. he's whining like a wet animal and you better just pray your neighbors aren't hearing it.
if you've ever wanted to peg him this is your chance. he's missed you so badly he'll literally let you do anything with any kink as long as you give him a night.
hes so loving with you !! if you ignore his nails digging into you as he clutches onto you for dear life, he's so soft and tender as he readjusts to the feeling of being in you again.
hes a biter. like very much. much like chuuya, the usual small markings he left are probably faded by now, but he's missed the taste of your skin so much that he can't sinking his teeth into you when near orgasm.
he doesn't cry like the others unless you peg him, and if you do so you'll barely even manage to get a sentence out of him. he is just so sensitive :((
he'll take you anywhere in this time. be it up against a wall, on the couch, over the kitchen countertop or in the usual side of the bed you always do. as long as its with you, he doesn't care !!
he wants to taste you again for sure. you'll have at least a couple rounds where he makes you cum on his tongue, he's so eager with it too.
it's all giving the day you're back. usually he's shyly asking for a blowjob at the end of it, but today it's all you!! ( no denying if you offer though. )
he didn't try to pleasure himself the entire time you were gone. poor baby, it never felt as good as you did, so he decided to keep himself until the day you returned.
I hope you enjoyed!! thank you for all the likes on previous posts. - zai
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transform4u · 24 days
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Hey...I'm sorry to bother you but I had a request, your stories are quite hot and amazing, and I want to know if there would be any possibility of you doing a story where the individuals love each other? I mean not physically but sentimentally. Something like a romance story.
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As the ping of a text message interrupts the quiet around you, you feel a sharp pang in your head as loud snaaaaaapppp echoes in your mind. The ache intensifies as a series of incoming texts from an unknown number disrupt your peace. The first message is a flood of heart emojis—red hearts, pink hearts, and even a few purple ones. The screen lights up with a new message: “OMG babe! I can’t wait for our date tonight.”
Confusion swirls in your mind, mingling with the throbbing pain in your head. You had been on Grindr earlier, but this isn’t from that app. Your body feels strange, like it’s being reshaped from the inside out. The ache becomes a tingling sensation as your muscles and body undergo a remarkable transformation. Fat melts away, revealing a youthful, tan, and lean physique. Your body becomes more defined, with a noticeable cut to your abs and a cute, perky butt.
Your hair lightens to a sun-kissed blonde, shimmering in the light. Your once full beard and facial fat dissolve, giving way to a fresh, preppy look with a cute, slightly upturned nose. Your biceps and triceps become more toned, and a charming, polished appearance emerges.
Your phone pings again, and you look down to see that the contact name has changed to “BAE.” Another message appears: “Hey cutie 😘 I hope your day’s going well! Can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got a little surprise planned 😍”
Your heart skips a beat, a fluttering sensation filling your chest. The messages continue, each one sweeter and more endearing than the last:
“Thinking about you all day 💕 Every time I look at my phone, I hope it’s you texting me!”
“Can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life 💖 Your smile just lights up my world.”
“Got something special for you tonight 🌟 Can’t wait to hold you close and make some amazing memories ❤️”
As you read each message, a warm, tingling sensation spreads through you. Your fondness for this person grows with every word, each message filling you with a sense of joy and anticipation. You feel a profound connection, a deepening affection that resonates with your very being. The thought of your upcoming date and the affection behind these messages makes your heart swell with happiness, filling you with a radiant sense of love and excitement.
As the name “BAE” on your phone transforms into “BAE, GWEN,” a wave of clarity washes over you, reigniting your memories of Gwen. She’s not just anyone—she’s your high school sweetheart, your confidante, and the love of your life. The initial confusion melts away, replaced by a profound sense of recognition and affection. You and Gwen are inseparable, a pair that has been head-over-heels in love since the first time your eyes met. Now, as you both navigate college together, your relationship is the epicenter of your universe, and your social media presence reflects that devotion in the most exuberant and heartfelt way.
Your TikTok account is a testament to your unrestrained affection and commitment. Each video is a mini celebration of your relationship, overflowing with Gen Z enthusiasm and Christian faith. Mornings start with you both performing synchronized lip-sync routines to the latest Christian love songs, complete with playful winks and loving glances. The backdrop is always set to cozy, sunlit mornings where you both look adoringly at each other, often holding a devotional book between you, a symbol of your shared faith.
Under the hashtag #BlessedLoveStory, you post a steady stream of content chronicling your journey from high school sweethearts to college couple goals. The posts are a vibrant mix of nostalgic throwbacks, from your first awkward date at the local diner to those tender moments when you realized you were each other’s forever. Your feed is filled with clips of you both singing worship songs in the car, tears of joy mixing with laughter, as you both immerse yourselves in the magic of each moment.
Every viral “couple goals” challenge gets a Christian twist from you two. Whether it’s mimicking dance routines or answering relationship questions, you both infuse each video with your infectious love and devotion. You always end on a high note, quoting your favorite Bible verses about love and reminding your followers of how blessed you are to have found each other.
In every post, your love for Gwen shines through, a radiant beacon of devotion that captures the hearts of your followers. Your social media presence is a blend of sincerity and exuberance, a celebration of the deep, abiding love you and Gwen share. Your relationship is not just a part of your life—it’s a vibrant, public expression of your joy and faith, making every moment together feel like a blessing.
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