#ITT May | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cliodevotus · 2 months

Text

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ SOZINHA NO BANHEIRO COM O IRMÃO GOSTOSO DA MELHOR AMIGA - AGUSTÍN P.

❛ honestamente, ser a melhor amiga de Alfonsina desde a infância tinha muitos benefícios, mas certamente o principal deles era dono de um nome, rosto e jeito de homem Homem: Agustín, o irmão mais velho que era um sem-vergonha. Mas não era como se a atração fosse correspondida, afinal, você sempre seria a Cuqui, a melhor amiga da irmãzinha 7 anos mais nova, uma eterna criança aos olhos de Agustín. Quer dizer, era o que você achava, porque Agustín estava decidido a te fazer tirar essa ideia da cabeça.❞

— AVISOS : agustín pardella x leitora afab, meio slowburn, pegação mas sem smut muito explícito (sorry bbs, sou tímida), menção a oral (f!receiving), age gap de 7 anos, leitora é a melhor amiga de infância da irmã do Agustín, meio angst-fluff. || CUQUI é um apelidinho que eu achei na Internet que eles aparentemente usam pra se referir a alguém que tem muito carinho e que meio que significar "fofo", "adorável". Vem da palavra "cuco" (que é tanto "bicho-papão" ou aquele passarinho que tem o canto "cuco, cuco", sabe?)

— PALAVRAS : 4119 (pelo menos é o que o iA Writer disse)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 notas : adivinha quem inventou de começar a escrever fanfic do cast de la sociedad de la nieve meio que muito tempo depois do hype dar uma esfriada? euzinha. mas aqui estamos, o importante é fazer. e eu escolhi o pardella pq eu sou gamada nesse homem. e bem, eu tive essa ideia junto da @bestgirlie que compartilha as loucuras e tesões por esse cast delicioso e fiquei de escrever essa fanfic, inclusive cheguei a mandar pra @creads um dos pensamentos bem pensantes meu que eu tenho com a Ana sobre o Agustín irmão mais velho pegando a leitora universitária melhor amiga da irmã dele e ainnnnn que as contribuições dela foram 💯💯🗣👌absolute cinema🙌 então é aqui estamos com essa minha humilde fanficzinha com esse tema. espero muito que gostem e queiram ler mais trabalhos meus ♡

#☆ masterlist. | regras.

꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦

AGUSTÍN PARDELLA era um cachorro. Não tinha outra palavra para descrever aquele malandro barbudo e estupidamente charmoso que vivia te provocando e, pior ainda, nem mesmo sabia que você existia. Era maldade pura, de verdade, mas infelizmente ele nem tinha culpa disso. Você era a verdadeira culpada, afinal, que tipo de garota alimenta a paixãozinha idiota pelo irmão mais velho da melhor amiga que se tem na infância ano após ano até chegar aonde está hoje? Apaixonada por aquele cachorro safado e cara de pau. Não é como se fosse muito difícil: Agustín era o pecado vivo, parecia que ele fazia de propósito para te deixar ouriçada, mas toda vez que você decidia visitar sua melhor amiga, ele aparecia sem camisa, o peitoral e as costas cheios de tatuagem e o cabelo cacheadinho longo quase caindo nos ombros. Sempre com ou uma cuia cheia de mate ou um baseado na mão e aquele sorriso cafajeste no rosto. Até mesmo quando fazia frio, Agustín fazia questão de abrir a porta do quarto da irmã para buscar alguma coisa que tinha esquecido lá ou para falar alguma baboseira sem sentido com aquele peitoral peludo exposto para quem quisesse ver. Será que ele sentia frio? A irmã dele vivia reclamando dessa mania dele que tinha supostamente começado "do nada", mas você não ia reclamar daquela visão dos deuses, não? Ela também reclamava de como ele andava deixando o cabelo e a barba crescerem, e ela não era a única, a mãe dele também reclamava. Faziam questão de comparar ele com o Capitão Caverna ou o primo Itt da Família Addams quando ele estava por perto.

— Sabe Cuqui, — a mãe dele te chamou durante um almoço na casa deles, — você não acha que o Agustín ficaria melhor se cortasse aquele pello todo?

Foi tão de repente que você nem soube como reagir, apenas riu tímida e brincou com o uso inesperado do apelidinho bobo que eles te deram quando você ainda era pequenininha. Você era como família, esteve por perto desde o dia que conheceu a irmã mais nova de Agustín, Alfonsina, quando se mudou do Brasil para a Argentina por causa do emprego do pai. Por uma ironia do destino, moravam no mesmo condomínio mas não no mesmo bloco, os apartamentos um na frente do outro e frequentavam a mesma escola. Ficaram grudadas como carrapato e não se desgrudaram nunca mais; os pais acharam que vocês iam se afastar com a formatura do ensino médio e com a entrada na faculdade, mas quando vocês duas fizeram o anúncio de que iam para a mesma faculdade naquele churrasco de domingo, ficou mais do que claro que eram almas gêmeas destinadas a serem amigas para sempre. Agustín não estava presente nesse almo��o, na verdade, durante todo o ensino médio você quase não viu o dito cujo, o que foi ainda mais duro para o seu coração apaixonado. Não sabia o que era pior: ver o objeto de seus desejos e sofrer porque não o tem ou não o ver e ainda sofrer pelo mesmo motivo.

Sempre no escanteio, a eterna melhor amiga da irmãzinha, a Cuqui que ele certamente sempre veria como aquela criança de trancinhas esvoaçantes e sorrisinho banguela que grudava nele nas brincadeiras que ele participava. Alfonsina morria de ciúmes e era muito engraçado, vocês decidiam uma brincadeira e no momento que Agustín decidia que ia se juntar, você trocava de lado na hora para ficar com ele. Se estavam brincando de casinha e ele vinha pedir se podia participar, ele era o seu marido e pai do seu bebê e ponto final. Brincando de boneca na sua Casa dos Sonhos da Barbie? Ele fazia a Barbie que namorava a sua Barbie e de quebra ainda era o Homem Aranha, porque ele era um homem Homem e não podia deixar a masculinidade de lado. Ou quando brincavam de pega-pega e ele fazia questão de te abraçar quando te pegava? Ou quando era esconde-esconde e ele fingia que não te via para te deixar ganhar? Você sempre soube que ele fingia que não te via, porque vocês cruzavam olhares e não tinha como ele não te ver nos lugares idiotas e óbvios que você escolhia para se esconder – Alfonsina sempre sabia e conseguia te achar por primeiro (ela até dizia que era sem graça brincar contigo por isso), então porque Agustín que era tão mais alto e mais velho que você não achava? Ele brincava que você era a Cuqui dele, a amiga favorita da irmã favorita dele, até provocava Alfonsina dizendo que te queria de irmã no lugar dela. Doía, claro que sim, comprovando ainda mais a sua teoria de que você era só a Cuqui, uma irmãzinha para ele. Doeu do mesmo jeito quando ele apareceu em casa com uma namorada. Na época, ele tinha uns 17 anos, e você seus 10. Nem mesmo tinha entrado na puberdade e assim que viu a namorada dele: alta, esbelta e com um corpo escultural, você soube que a batalha estava perdida. Estava brincando com umas bonecas Monster High com Fonchi na sala e na hora que ele entrou com a dita cuja, você ficou vermelha de vergonha da cabeça aos pés. Estava usando aquela jardineira e meias coloridas, os cabelos presos em duas marias-chiquinhas e o aparelho de dentes cor-de-rosa. Talvez ali foi o primeiro momento em que se sentiu insegura com a própria aparência e não foram poucas as situações de constrangimento que você passou se comparando com outras mulheres.

Foi até bom o fato de você não visto Agustín muito durante a puberdade devido a faculdade dele, que era de noite. Ele trabalhava o dia todo e ia para a faculdade em outra cidade quando chegava de noite e você só o via nos finais de semana, isso se chegava a ver. Ouvia Alfonsina reclamar das namoradas do irmão que ela às vezes nem conseguia se acostumar com a presença delas ou decorar o nome antes dele trocar, isso sem falar nas inúmeras peguetes que ele levava para casa. Ele era um amante da farra, gostava de ficar puteando por aí (como a mãe dele dizia) e não parava quieto em casa; elas não sabiam, mas saber das aventuras românticas e sexuais do malandro machucavam mais seu coraçãozinho do que você deixava transparecer. Mas vida que segue, não é? Foi no primeiro ano do ensino médio que você decidiu que ia deixar aquela paixão de lado e aproveitar. Chegou até mesmo a ter um namorinho com um garoto do terceirão que não passou da escola, mas que foi bom. Parecia que quanto mais perto da formatura você chegava, mais bonita você ficava e, de fato, quando a faculdade chegou, uma das primeiras coisas que você notou foi que você já não era mais uma menina, mas sim uma mulher. Uma mulher Mulher, como Alfonsina diria, imitando a mania do irmão de dizer que era um homem Homem. E por falar no malandro, foi nesse contexto de faculdade que você teve seu reencontro com ele.

Alfonsina decidiu que queria porque queria ir numa festa de formatura de uma das amigas veteranas de vocês no fim do seu terceiro semestre, e você, que andava com a cabeça tão ocupada com provas e trabalhos e com a possível ideia de ter pego exame (mesmo com Fonchi te afirmando que não tinha como, afinal, você era a melhor da turma) decidiu que ia para a festa e que se foda o resto do mundo. Ainda moravam no mesmo condomínio e decidiram que iriam se arrumar juntas na casa da Fonchi. E tal como nos últimos anos, você ficou mais do que satisfeita com o resultado do seu look: o vestido preto de alcinha que chegava um pouco acima da metade da coxa e o tênis branco eram básicos, mas a maquiagem e o penteado eram os verdadeiros tchans na sua aparência. Fora o perfume gostoso de lírios que você tinha ganhado no seu último aniversário e tinha se tornado sua marca registrada por onde quer que fosse. Alfonsina brincava dizendo que aquele perfume impregnava na roupa e na cabeça e não saia nem com oração.

Alfonsina estava dando os últimos toques no cabelo. — Ah, Cuqui? — Ela te chamou, desviando sua atenção do celular, estava no Instagram de papo com um bofe padrãozinho da sua faculdade do curso de educação física que você estava doida para dar uns beijos naquela noite. — Lembrei que deixei meu carregador portátil no quarto do Agustín, você pode ir pegar para mim? Acho que está na cômoda dele.

— Claro, Fonchi. — Se levantou em um pulo e saiu do quarto. Quanto mais se aproximava daquele quarto no fim do corredor, o maldito quarto no fim do corredor, mais sentia as borboletas no estômago se revirando. Será que ele estava em casa? Devia estar em uma festa, como sempre, puteando com algum daqueles amigos dele. Será que era com o Enzo, o Matías ou com o Esteban? Eram tantos que você nem lembrava o nome. E se ele estivesse jogando videogame com eles? Ele nem notaria a sua presença. Você só precisava entrar silenciosa e furtiva como um ninja, pegar o carregador portátil e vazar. Só isso. Fácil, não? Errado, porque no momento em que você parou em frente a porta e, num reflexo, deu algumas batidinhas nela como sempre fez. Era uma garota educada, fazer o que?

— Entre. — A voz grossa do outro lado da porta te pegou desprevenida. Ele sempre teve a voz máscula assim? Respirou fundo e, controlando a tremedeira, girou a maçaneta e entrou no quarto. Continuava igual como sempre foi, a única diferença sendo que não tinha mais os bonecos de super-heróis nas prateleiras e que agora ele estava cheio de caixas e mais caixas. E tinha um cheiro excêntrico no ar. Maconha, era claro, você não era boba, mas resolveu focar nas caixas. Será que ele estava de mudança? Ele estava sentado em uma cadeira gamer na frente do computador e com um fone de ouvido gigantesco na cabeça; ele nem te olhou quando você abriu a porta. Provavelmente achou que era a irmã. Ignorou a ignorada dele e andou em direção a cômoda do lado da cama, pegou o dito carregador portátil (que estava carregando) e saiu do quarto o mais rápido possível, só queria ir logo para a formatura e beijar o padrãozinho da educação física. Tão imersa nos pensamentos, nem poder ver o fato de que, em nenhum momento nesse processo todo, os olhos de Agustín desgrudaram de você e do seu corpo. Por Díos, quem era você e o que fazia na casa dele? Não que ele estivesse reclamando, mas ele não lembrava das amigas da irmã ou da mãe serem gatas daquele jeito.

— Gracias. — Você disse antes de fechar a porta e vazar para o quarto da sua melhor amiga.

No dia seguinte, Agustín ainda não tinha tirado você da cabeça e não se aguentou na hora do almoço. Você já não estava mais ali, tinha ido para casa direto depois da festa porque não queria ter que ficar de ressaca na casa dos Pardella (não daria esse desgosto para a Mamá Pardella, apenas para a sua própria mãe), então Alfonsina foi deixada a própria sorte com um Agustín muito curioso.

— Alfo, desculpa te perguntar, mas quem era aquela garota bonita que foi no meu quarto ontem pegar o teu carregador portátil?

Alfonsina olhou para ele como se ele fosse louco: — Do que você tá falando, Agus? Você conhece ela há anos.

— Nunca nem vi aquela garota.

— Agustín, você não se lembra da Cuqui? — A Mamá Pardella se intrometeu. — ¡Dios mío! vocês viviam grudados.

Alfonsina riu da cara de choque do irmão. Como era a história? Aquela gatinha era você? Você, tipo, você a Cuqui? Não era possível. Ele resolveu fazer algo que ele nunca imaginou que faria na vida: entrar no seu Instagram e tirar a história a limpo. E quebrar a cara no processo, porque de fato, lá estava você em toda a sua glória. A mulher mais linda que ele já tinha visto em seus quase 30 anos de existência. Como isso era possível? A última vez que ele tinha te visto, você não passava de uma pirralha! Literalmente, a última vez que ele lembrava ter te visto foi quando ele levou a primeira namorada para conhecer a família. E isso faziam o que? De certo, uns dez anos. Você sumiu depois disso (pelo menos do campo de visão dele) e ele nunca tinha parado para perceber isso, se sentindo mal por não ter estado por perto nesses anos.

Alheio a você, ele começou a querer "recuperar o tempo perdido", como ele mesmo tentava se convencer. E quando ele colocava algo na cabeça, nem o diabo tirava; inclusive, a maldita ideia de aparecer sem camisa na sua frente para ver se tirava alguma reação sua foi totalmente ideia dele. Agustín nunca foi idiota, ele percebia o jeito descarado que seus olhos brilhavam quando olhava para ele e ele sabia dizer que você tinha certa admiração por ele, mas ele nunca levou a sério. Primeiramente, o fato de que vocês tinham uma grande diferença de idade o impedia de dar importância, e segundo que mesmo que ele tivesse alguma segunda intenção, como era o caso no momento, você era a melhor amiga da irmãzinha dele. Só cara safado se interessa pela melhor amiga da irmãzinha. E minha nossa, ele era o maior safado que existia na Argentina e tinha orgulho disso.

Tinha mais orgulho ainda quando a mãe implicava com ele para raspar a barba e cortar o cabelo e ele não dava o braço a torcer. Como ele poderia depois do que ele tinha ouvido algumas semanas atrás?

— A verdade é que ele fica parecendo um homem das cavernas com aquele monte de pelo e cabelo. Tenho desgosto de homem assim, cruzes, a mamá também. A gente tenta porque tenta convencer ele a cortar e nada. Ele diz que quer ficar parecendo um viking másculo, parece que ele esqueceu que ele é latino, e não um nórdico. — A voz de Alfonsina ecoava pela casa. Você e ela estavam sozinhas, Agustín e os pais estavam no trabalho sem previsão de voltar cedo; ao fundo, o álbum Life Support de Madison Beer tocava baixinho, apenas para que não ficassem no silêncio total. Talvez por isso vocês não ouviram o chacoalhar das chaves de Agustín e o ranger da porta principal abrindo. Ele entrou silencioso porque estava cansado. Tinha sido liberado do trampo mais cedo porque tinha um compromisso mais tarde (ser amigo do chefe nessas horas era uma benção e tanto) e sentou no sofá da sala, exausto, com os braços e pernas extendidos e a cabeça no encosto.

— O que eu tô querendo dizer é que homem de cabelo comprido ou barba não é para mim. — Alfonsina falou ao fundo. Ele suspirou, ela provavelmente estava em mais uma das suas intermináveis ligações com alguma amiga ou mandando alguma mensagem de áudio no WhatsApp.

Mas foi uma surpresa e tanto quando você respondeu. — Eu sou o contrário. Meio que eu me amarro em homem cabeludo e meio peludo. — Riu e Agustín imediatamente levantou a cabeça do encosto do sofá, mais atento do que nunca. — Eu acho que o Agus ficou mais bonito assim, ele nunca foi feio, mas certamente deixou ele mais gatinho.

— Se você diz. Mas não entendo essa tara por homem barbudo.

— Não é tara, é só uma preferência.

— Ah, sei, mas tenho certeza que você tem uma tara pelo meu irmão assim.

Você engasgou. — Eu nunca disse isso!

Alfonsina gargalhou. — Eu sei, sua boba.

— Mas é verdade. Eu ia dizer, você sabe o Vladimir do curso de fisioterapia? É tipo ele.

— Você tem uma quedinha pelo Vladimir, é?

— Eu nunca disse isso.

— Primeiro você diz que o meu irmão fica gatinho de barba, agora vem com essa? Seus gostos são estranhos, Cuqui.

— É que você não entende como isso dá um plus em muitos momentos. — Riu. Agustín nem mais pensava direito, uma parte de si enciumada desse tal de Vladimir da fisioterapia (quem esse marmanjo pensava que era para chamar a sua atenção assim?), e a outra completamente animado pelo que ele havia acabado de ouvir. Você achava ele gatinho? Parecia que os deuses tinham enfim abençoado ele com um sinal verde para os objetivos dele.

Só existia uma pedra no caminho dele nessa história toda: Alfonsina que não desgrudava de você em nenhum momento. Porra! Ele amava a irmãzinha, de verdade, porém estava ficando cansativo você vir visitar a casa dos Pardella só quando a irmã dele estava. Por mais que ele amasse aquele jogo de gato e rato, em que ele aparecia sem camiseta no quarto só para te deixar constrangida ou para ver como você estava linda toda arrumada para alguma festa da faculdade, estava ficando cansativo aquela droga de nunca conseguir tomar uma atitude e dar o bote em você. E Alfonsina estava começando a ficar cansada e irritada com as interrupções dele nas fofocas da semana da faculdade ou nas sessões de estudos.

— Ei, Alfo. Posso pegar o seu-... — ele disse enquanto abria a porta do quarto da irmãzinha, mais uma vez naquela semana. Mas foi surpreendido com o quarto vazio quando abriu a porta. Quer dizer, quase vazio. Você estava lá, deitada na cama de Fonchi mexendo no celular completamente desinteressada, os cabelos espalhados pela colcha e usando uma tennis skirt que tinha subido até perto da virilha quando você se deitou sem cuidado. Por Dios, você era um inferno de gostosa e um tormento na vida dele por si só. — Ué, cadê ela?

— Fonchi saiu, ligaram do estágio pedindo a presença dela quase que imediatamente e ela teve que sair correndo. Acho que faz uns quinze minutos, mas não tenho certeza. Não acho que ela vai voltar tão cedo, você precisava dela para alguma coisa?

Os olhos dele brilharam, será que tinha sido iluminação divina? Abençoado fosse o estágio da irmã e a visita dos pais à tia do interior. — Poxa, que pena. — Ele disse no tom de voz pesaroso mais convincente que ele conseguiu, mas a verdade era que era quase impossível disfarçar a felicidade que ele estava sentindo. — Vocês combinaram de fazer algo?

— A gente ia fazer skincare, eu comprei uns produtos coreanos e eles chegaram na segunda. Queria testar para ver se era tão bom quanto dizem. — Suspirou, brincando com os pacotes de gel de limpeza facial, máscaras faciais, depiladores e afins que estavam na colcha.

O sorriso de Agustín se alargou ainda mais, isso se era possível se alongar mais do que já estava. — Se você quiser, eu posso fazer com você. — Você o encarou, ainda deitada, e sorriu como uma criança que tinha ganhado um picolé num dia de sol. Se sentou rapidamente na cama, animadissima, perguntando se ele estava falando sério. — É claro que sim, porém com uma condição. — Ele até ergueu o dedo indicador ao falar isso. — Que você fume um comigo.

Quem era você para negar essa oportunidade tão única na vida, não é? — Ah, não sei não... — Você fingiu estar pensativa, tinha que manter a postura e não parecer tão desesperada por um tempo sozinha com ele. O sorriso no rosto dele começou a desaparecer, receoso com a possibilidade de você recusar. — Eu tô brincando, bobão. — Riu, se sentando na cama em um pulo. — Vamos lá!

— Mas tem um problema, Cuqui. Aqui não, fica cheiro. Vem pro meu quarto.

Que se foda a sua dignidade. Antes de você notar, lá estava você sentada na cama do Agustín com a máscara de limpeza de pepino no rosto fazendo efeito e dividindo um baseado com ele do lado. Talvez fosse efeito do baseado, mas a verdade é que você estava tão relaxada que conseguiu ignorar as borboletas na barriga e ter uma conversa decente com ele, tal como nos velhos tempos; pareciam até velhos amigos íntimos de tanto papo. Agustín tinha aquele jeito brincalhão mas maduro, aquela aura de conforto que te fazia se sentir segura em se abrir com ele e falar tudo da sua vida que você achava interessante compartilhar, algo que nenhum outro amigo homem ou peguete seu tinha, pelo menos não tanto quanto o argentino.

Você ria de uma piada dele quando resolveu olhar o celular, já tinha passado o tempo suficiente para as máscaras fazerem efeito. — Ah, tem que tirar. — Ele te encarou confuso, antes de você apontar para o rosto. — A máscara, Tín. A máscara.

— Ah, sí. — Ele se levantou da cama e te puxou junto, te ajudando a ficar de pé. Riram como dois idiotas o caminho todo até o banheiro da suíte dele. — Mas eu preciso de ajuda, Cuqui, não sei fazer essas coisas. Soy un hombre.

Estava agora sozinha no banheiro do irmão gostoso da minha melhor amiga. Riu, "sozinha no banheiro do irmão gostoso da melhor amiga", parecia até nome de um filme pornô barato e ruim. Após molhar um algodão com a água morna da pia, você passou ele pelo rosto de Agustín, limpando o produto verde sem deixar nenhum traço dele. A pele de Agustín parecia mais brilhante e, bem de perto, foi a primeira vez que você notou como ele tinha um perfume bom. Muito bom. — Sabe Cuqui, — o olhou curiosa, os olhos dele (vermelhinhos) estavam grudados no seu rosto. Há quando tempo ele estava te encarando? — eu queria muito te dar um beijo, mas eu não consigo te levar a sério com esse negócio verde no rosto. — O que?

Você nem teve uma resposta imediata, o cérebro entrou em curto-circuito com aquela fala tão inesperada e te deixou tão desnorteada que você nem reagiu ou protestou quando ele te levantou sem dificuldade alguma e te colocou sentada na pia. Agustín sempre foi forte, mas não imaginava o quão forte ele era. E então algo molhado tocou seu rosto, limpando a máscara com o maior cuidado do mundo; era como se você fosse uma bonequinha de porcelana e Agustín um cuidadoso restaurador. Assim que o resto da máscara foi devidamente tirada e seu rosto molhado e seco, Agustín sorriu sacana. — Listo. — Aproximou o rosto do seu, o contato visual jamais sendo quebrado e as mãos grandes e calorosas envolvendo o seu rosto, pronto para te beijar. — Posso? — Perguntou, raspando a ponta do nariz no seu.

Que SE FODA a sua dignidade. — Sim... Por favor... — Arfou. E foi assim que você se permitiu ser atacada pelos lábios de Agustín, que te envolveram num beijo caloroso e nem um pouco inocente. As mãos, antes ao redor do seu rosto, desceram tortuosa e lentamente até chegarem a sua cintura, apertando-a e te fazendo inclinar o corpo para frente com o toque súbito. Nesse movimento súbito, o sacana aproveitou para colocar a mão nas suas coxas, brincando com a bainha da sua saia, perigosamente perto da sua bunda descoberta, como se pedisse permissão. E é claro que você concedeu, aproveitando que ele estava distraído com a sua saia, colocou as mãos por debaixo da camiseta dele. A pele estava quente, muito quente, e quando sua mão geladinha entrou em contato com ela, Agustín estremeceu, mas foi quando você arranhou as laterais do corpo que ele reagiu de verdade, soltando um gemidinho contra os seus lábios e aproximou mais o corpo do seu, te permitindo que você pudesse envolver a cintura dele com as suas pernas e usar os ombros dele para que se apoiasse e levantesse o suficiente para que ele colocasse as mãos na sua bunda, apertando a carne com desejo. Os seus gemidinhos e arfares estavam o enlouquecendo, ainda mais porque você tentava contê-los. Pressionou a pélvis contra a dele, tentando se aliviar, e o argentino gemeu, te envolvendo com os braços carnudos e te apertando com força contra o corpo, tendo um acesso estratégico para o seu pescoço, que agora era o que recebia total atenção dele. Beijava e chupava com gosto, lentamente descendo e descendo. Inebriada, tanto pela maconha quanto os beijos sufocantes do argentino, você nem notou quando o homem se ajoelhou em frente a você, beijando a sua perna direita conforme subia, até chegar perigosamente próximo demais de sua intimidade. Enfiou a cara entre as coxas e esfregou barba no interior de cada uma conforme beijava, te dando arrepios e te fazendo enfim dar atenção a ele, quando ele agarrou as coxas com forças e não te deixou se afastar dele. Os olhares se cruzaram quando ele olhou para cima, para o seu rosto que ele se perguntou se sempre foi tão lindo e hipnotizante, e com um fio de voz, fez a tão infame pergunta:

— Posso, Cuqui?

E quem é você para dizer que não para esse homem Homem?

#la sociedad de la nieve #lsdln cast #lsdln x reader #lsdln imagine #agustin pardella #agustin pardella x reader #agustin pardella fanfic #mine #@cliodevotus

93 notes · View notes

leeknow-thoughts · 2 months

Text

୨୧ CHAMBER OF REFLECTION

𝝑𝝔 cw : STONED!sex, 3way, mxm action, poly!2chan x f!reader, birthday sex, I think that's itt???

𝝑𝝔 a/n : wrote this after I shared the thought with miss Juno ! @hyunsvngs

Changbin trusted you and Chan more than anything or anyone else. You three had discussed it for a few weeks by now, a stoned three way. One where Changbin would be submissive, rather than you. He would let both you and Chris take care of him, a birthday present of sorts.

He found himself sandwiched between the two of the people he loves the most. You laying on his right, your pretty tits on full display while you brushed his hair out of his face, whispering sweet words into his ear. While Chris was laying on his left, Chris' cock straining in his boxers while he sucked on Changbin's nipples.

"My sweet Binnie," you muse, kissing his temple, "isn't Channie sweet? Playing with you so nicely."

Changbin is nodding fervently while his eyes just start feeling heavier and heavier and his thoughts are swirling. A familiar warm feeling being felt from every pore of his skin. There's no doubt Changbin is hard, so hard he thinks his cock may explode, twitching against his stomach with every kiss Chris gives his chest.

"Chris," you snap him from his trance, the man on the other side of him lifting his head up to look at you, "I think our baby is feeling floaty right now, aren't you?" you look to Changbin for a response.

He nods, "feeling floaty."

"Aw, good," you coo, "now the real fun begins, baby."

Chris is quick to help Changbin up while you pull your flimsy shorts off, settling down on your back, opening up your legs and watching as Changbin's eyes bug out of his head, seeing your pretty cunt all spread out for him. "C'mon Binnie, fuck my cunt," you instruct the man hovering over you.

Changbin is in no state to deny your wishes, sinking his fat cock into your warm walls, head lolling back when he bottoms out inside you. "That's it Binnie," you coo, pulling him in for a kiss.

He's yelping against your lips when Chris gently pulls at the butt plug that was put in his ass earlier, a groan following his outburst of noise. "Sweet boy," Chris is whispering to Changbin, "you ready for me t'be inside?"

"Please," Changbin is quick to whimper.

You watch Changbin's face, observing the way his mouth falls open and how his brows knit together when Chris starts pushing his cock into Changbin's hole. How the softest and sweetest whimpers leave his mouth as Chan slowly fills him up while his own cock is still buried inside your own cunt.

"Not gonna last," Changbin announces once Chris bottoms out inside him.

"That's okay baby," you insist, a blissful grin spreading across your face.

When Chris moves you feel it as it moves Changbin's cock further into you. The three of you figure out a rhythm, one that has all of your heads falling back while whines fall from all of your lips.

Changbin wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't last long like this either, his cum seeping into you while a cry leaves his lips. You kiss him through his high while Chan's fingers play with his nipples.

#bun.writes #bunwritesskz #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #stray kids x you #skz #poly!binchan #seo changbin #chan stray kids #bang chan x reader #changbin smut #bang chan smut

102 notes · View notes

sanest-bsd-delegate · 7 months

Note

Hii!!! Sorry to bother you,I hope you are healthy as always❤️

So, i have a funny idea with Dazai (and others Character if you like), like what about Reader is a woman + tomboy but she more handsome and popular than him (Even though reader is a woman).How will they react about that!

If you don't like it you can skip itt! Thank you❤️❤️

───𝗣𝗢𝗣𝗨𝗟𝗔𝗥

Headcanon in WHICH, Dazai react to reader being more popular then him

A/N: I actually lost my senses to write and my humour is broken, i swear i arent like this :D

→Masterlist

DAZAI OSAMU

Denial is the first step of grief they say, and thats what exactly he felt.

I mean, with a ego as big as the sun, Dazai Osamu never in his life met with such a crisis.

what crisis you may ask?

Well, you and him were in a cafe, when a girl approched both of you.

Dazai being Dazai, thought the girl was approching him because, Who can resist his beautiful face and charms?

Oh boy how wrong he was when the girl turned her back towards him.

"Um...Miss you look so cool, I want-"

Dazai was so deaf to the conversation after that (Lmao)

Like he knows you are the most beautiful human to exist on earth but people turning their back on him for you??

He used to get free chocolates to eat from girls and free vegetables for the venders but now? IF HE IS WITH YOU HE HAS TO PAY???

"Hey lets go the market together!" "NO"

Bro is actually really sad cause no free stuff for him #he'sbroken

One time, he actually made you wear a mask when you both went outside for the evening walk, and the next moment a toddler boy came upto you and gave you flowers.

Bro got jelous of a boy.

A TODDLER BOY WHO CAN BARELY WALK PROPERLY

why do i think he made you wear this mask?

LIKE HEAR ME OUT

"Y/N pleaseeee" "NO DAZAI I AM NOT WEARING THAT...THAT MASK" "PLEASE"

and the mask in question would be this:

WHY DOES IT EVEN EXIST IN THE FIRST PLACE WHAT THE FUCK HELP

I mean after sometime, he might as well as give up and use you as a medium of free food gainer (as if he doesnt already)

"Y/N PLEASE RIZZ THEM UP FOR FREE CHOCOLATE" "yeah i dont really want you"

Like he is fr secretly proud of you.

Even asked you to sign his shirt so that whenever you get famous, he might as well as have a original merch.

"Dazai why am I voted as the most handsome/beautiful person in yokohama?" "Well its the truth tho?"

You got delivered free chocolates and flowers after

"WE CAN OPEN A SHOP WITH THAT" "No babes we cant, its not enough" "..." "NO DAZAI YOU ARE NOT ENTERING MY NAME IN A PAGENT"

Sometimes i think he as well as enter your name into politics

"I AM NOT ENTERING THE WORLD OF POLITICS NOW DAZAI ISTG" "BUT YN I SWEAR IT WILL BE..." Whispers "Chuuya please pick me up i am scared" "ARE YOU TALKING TO CHUUYA NOW?"

I officially lost my senses.

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

Join or remove your user here.

#bsd x reader #bsd #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou sd #drabbles #requests to sbd #bsd dazai #dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu

162 notes · View notes

livlaughloveluke · 6 months

Note

Reader getting neglected by her mom Hera bc she was a mistake? And Luke convincing her to join him and in the end she does- or she doesn't bc she is still loyal to Hera and Luke leaves her because of itt

ᡣ𐭩 𝗴𝗼𝗱𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘀

luke castellan x daughter of hera! reader 🦚

IN WHICH.. basically just the request

warning! this fic contains- use of y/n // few curse words // female reader // spoilers for tlt // heart wrenching angst

[a/n]- a lot of lines inspired by the last episode of the good place (literally my favorite show) and a line from the song “anything” used

🎧- goddess by laufey

2.3k

You were a mistake.

There was no alternative way to phrase it, at least not in the eyes of your godly mother, Hera. You were conceived in a fit of jealousy; your mom wanted to get petty revenge on Zeus for some clueless error he made. And so, within the blink of an eye, she transformed into a mere mortal and seduced a random man, otherwise known as your father.

When you stumbled into camp, bruised and bloody from a Cyclops attack, not a soul expected you to be the malicious goddess's daughter. Hera was loyal to her husband, even claiming multiple times that she forebode affairs, only allowing Zeus to commit the unfaithful acts. However, while she may have been the goddess of marriage, her extreme jealousy overpowered them all.

Which is why she detested you. You were a symbol of her errors, a constant reminder of her regretful affair.

You had a total of two interactions with her, the first one being her claiming of you and the second one being a spiel about how she resented and wanted absolutely nothing to do with a ‘disgrace.’

She was the reason you were so alone your whole life. There were no siblings to talk with, no mom to spend time with, and no father who could actively be present. In fact, the cabin hadn’t even been furnished when you arrived; no one thought your mother would commit infidelity.

With no bed to sleep in, at least until the one Mr. D ordered online arrived, you stayed in the Hermes cabin, a place welcoming to all. You were fourteen when you met Luke Castellan, who had already been claimed by his father and who generously made you feel included. He stayed up with you on those late nights, helping to calm you while you vented about your neglectful mother, and he saved you a spot at the picnic tables when no one else would.

From that point on, you and Luke had formed an incredible relationship. Even after you moved back into Cabin 2, you remained close friends. Seeing that you were the only daughter of Hera, you joined Cabin 11 for the daily activities, which only amplified your connection with the boy. Eventually, with the help of your friends, Chris and Clarisse, Luke worked up the courage to ask you out. You happily obliged, and ever since then, you have been dating.

Four years later, your bond with the boy was admired by nearly all. The two of you were a symbol of hope—that even in the pandemonium of demigod life, you could find love. As you grew into young adulthood, you became a profound woman, one with elegance and kindness, despite the hauntings of your past.

With Luke by your side, you began to love the simple joys life provided. You cared for the campers like your own kin, in hopes of providing the external fondness you were never granted as a child.

You and Annabeth became as close as ever, bonding over the experiences Camp Half-Blood provided. Her flawless skills in battle proved she didn’t need any protection, and yet you were always there to guard her from the dangers life presented. While Annabeth was reticent to most, after many weeks of being friends, she opened up to you.

You had that welcoming effect on nearly everyone, helping arrivals settle into their chaotic lifestyle. Which is how you ended up being chosen to complete a treacherous quest along with the new camper Percy, the satyr Grover, and your honorary little sister, Annabeth.

After packing the evening before departure, you headed to say goodbye to Luke. You both knew that the trip would be dangerous, with a chance you wouldn’t return, so you decided to relish in each other’s presence by the lake, just in case.

He sat on the dock while you lay in his lap, gently stroking your scalp as you watched the sun set and paint bright colors atop the sky.

“I’m gonna miss you.” You spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence.

“It’s only ten days. I went fourteen years without you; I can manage a week.” He said, smiling softly while looking down at you.

“Yeah. Ten days is nothing. I’d wait a hundred years for you.” You agreed, mirroring his expression. While you chatted, the colorful sky eventually faded into a deep blue, signaling that your time by the lake was coming to an end.

“Cmon, everyone’s asleep by now.“ He alerted you, standing up and offering you a hand. You accepted, interlocking your fingers and walking back to the cabins.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You pondered as you strolled to Hera’s cabin. Sure, it was against the rules, but you just wanted to spend the last night with him. And what’s the worst you could do while surrounded by twenty other children?

“Course. The campers owe me a favor since I took them to the lake last Friday, so they won’t snitch.” Luke replied, changing course to the Hermes cabin.

Sleep came easy that night as you laid on Luke’s chest while his hands rested on your waist. Leaving the next morning was hard, but with the words from last night still present in your mind, you left with a smile.

The mission was nearly impossible, with monsters chasing you around every corner. After traveling to (literally) hell and back, you finally arrived back at camp.

Campers lined up cheering; a whole festival was planned for the victory brought by Percy. While most would miss the warm, safe beds in the cabins or the hot showers, you only craved one thing: your boyfriend. One short Iris message during your trip wasn’t enough. You wanted to listen to him blink, to listen to his hands soothe, to listen to his heart beating.

And so, within minutes of your arrival, you had found yourself embraced in Luke’s arms. All of your worries pertaining to the Lightning Thief faded away as you ran your fingers through his curls, your knees practically buckling at the sight of him.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, swaying side to side as you hugged him.

“I missed you too. Camp hasn’t been the same.”

“I’m here now. We have all the time we need.”

“There’s too many people around. I found a new spot in the woods if you want to join me, and we can talk about the quest.” He spoke softly, his tone honey-sweet.

“Lead the way, Castellan.”

And so he dragged you deep into the secluded woods, the final location remaining a mystery as you hiked through hundreds of tall trees. The walk was suspiciously long, but with him, time seemed to fade away, and you grew blind to the flaming red flags.

Finally, you reached a clearing, surrounded by luscious greens. You both sat down, leaning your head on his shoulder as you glanced up at the stars. He was silent most of the journey to this unusual destination, just listening to you babble on about everything that happened during your time apart. And his nonverbal attitude didn’t disappear as you sat down, but this time you joined him in the comforting silence while staring up at the stars.

Gazing at him through the moonlight, you watched as his deep brown eyes lit up with a feeling you couldn’t determine. Curious, you queried what roamed his mind. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“I’m-“ he let out an angry sigh, pausing to gain composure. “I’m tired of the gods treating us like shit and getting away with it.” His indignant behavior staggered you, but Luke was prone to these fits of loathing after speaking to his neglectful father, so you assumed that’s what caused his wrath tonight.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Rough interaction with your dad again?” You tried to ration, hoping to calm his resentment, but instead it seemed to irritate him more. His jaw clenched with fury as he snapped at you.

“Why are you apologizing? Don’t defend the gods. They’re ruthless idiots who won’t even spare a glance in your direction.”

His cruel words made you question everything, praying this was just a dumb prank or something not as serious as he was letting on. Quietly, you asked what he meant. “What are you.. What are you saying?”

After a long pause, he looked away from you and spoke up. “I want you to join me. To join Kronos.”

Your heart sank upon his confession, and you scooted away from him frantically, standing up and trying to brace yourself for whatever he was going to do next. He lifted himself off the ground after you, taking a baby step closer.

“Kronos? You’re joking, right? Luke, please tell me you’re joking.”

You made eye contact with him, realizing that the mysterious tint in his eyes was now readable. It was hatred, pure evil.

“No. I can’t stand to watch them carelessly prance around while their children suffer. I’m standing against them, and I want you to be by my side.”

You grew vexed and infuriated that he was ruining your years-long relationship for some stupid dream. “Are you kidding me? I’m not joining you.” You snarled.

“You’re choosing them? Over me? You’re choosing your mother, who has ignored you your entire life, instead of me. Instead of us?” He growled, approaching you as you trudged backwards. For the first time in your life, you were scared of Luke. Scared of the man you loved.

“I’m choosing my friends at Camp Half-Blood. My family. What about Annabeth? And Percy? Do they know?” Thoughts of Annabeth finding out one of her closest friends was a traitor flooded your brain, hurting you more than Luke’s words ever could.

“No, not yet, at least. Why won’t you stand up for what’s right?”

“You’re starting an unwinnable war here. Tell me, do you really think you could overpower them?” You replied, fuming with anger towards him and the gods, too. And if we’re being honest, you were mad at yourself, too. Mad at yourself for still loving him even though he was hurting you.

“I will overpower them. With or without you.”

“You're—you're really leaving?” You questioned, and the rage dissipated.

“I have to.” He demanded, looking down at his feet while clenching his eyes shut.

A wave of memories washed over you, and suddenly, you didn’t want him to go. You wanted the boy who picked you the freshest of flowers—the boy who came knocking on your bedroom door at night, just wanting to chat.

“Please, Luke. We can forget all about this and go back to living our lives.” You pleaded, your bottom lip quivering as you fought back sobbing.

“It’s too late now. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N.”

“Please don’t leave. I was alone my whole life before you, and I told myself I liked it that way, but I don’t. I don’t want to live a life without you. I can’t.” You choked out through mangled sobs, and his demeanor shifted to one of guilt.

“I’m sorry, but it has to be this way. And I can’t let you leave here and spoil my plans before they even start.”

The air became thick as he finished his sentence, and your tears subsided, freight replacing the sadness that lingered deep in your heart.

“What does that mean?” You entreated. Was he going to kill you?

“I love you. Maybe in another universe we can be together.” He said this, fleeting into the shadows.

“Wait! Luke, you can’t just leave me here!” You yelled, attempting to run after him, but he was nowhere to be found. You stood alone in the darkness of the woods, with no clue as to how to escape the woods.

Every fragment in your body was telling you to give up, to let go, and to sob. To silence out the cruel world and lay on the earth floor, to wait for your impending death, from the freezing cold temperatures or one of the hungry monsters that lurked in the night. But the thought of Luke getting away with this and letting him escape untouched fueled you. You hiked out of the path you came from, praying you could get back to camp alive.

Eventually, you met the forest ends, stepping foot into a camp that was blissfully unaware of Hermes’ boy’s plan. You shoved through crowds of partying teens, eager to find Annabeth and Percy and warn them.

After searching through every crook, you spotted them talking to Chiron. The look of concealed misery on the young girl’s face told you everything. Luke had already visited.

You were grateful the two preteens were even alive, but you know how hard this was. They were only kids, not deserving to experience such heartbreak at a mere twelve years old.

Running up to Annabeth, you wrapped her in a comforting, empathy-filled embrace. Her muscles tensed up at first before accepting the hug and leaning in.

“I’m so sorry.” You muttered into her ears as she sighed. Pulling apart to read her emotions, you asked a simple question. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She murmured unconvincingly.

“Promise?”

“Swear.” Annabeth replied.

“And you promise you’ll come talk to me if you’re not?” You asked again.

“Promise.”

You smiled for the first time in hours, basking in the warmth of your family.

“Is he... gone?” You whispered to her, and it didn’t take an Athena kid to understand who you were talking about.

“Yeah. He escaped through a portal.”

“Oh.” Was all you could reply, trying to shield the way your heart shattered.

“I’m sorry.” Annabeth said, looking into your glossy eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll tell you everything later, but I’m just going to go to bed for now.”

You left, tears pouring down as you lightly jogged to the Hermes cabin. Slipping off your shoes, you plopped down onto Luke’s bed and sobbed.

His cheap cologne mixed with the citrusy shampoo he used lingered in the hot air, and for a moment, it was like he was still with you.

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

#luke castellan #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #hera #liv’s writing !

206 notes · View notes

allaboutnayeli · 8 months

Text

could've been [i.engen x reader]

prompt: after all the regret, ingrid finally changes. too bad you aren't there to see it.

author notes: this is my sorry for making ingrid so toxic in part one, i swear she is ten times better in this one. hope y'all enjoy itt! look at the bottom of the fic for another surprise.

warnings: angst but not in a (part one) way, lots of mentions of regret, ingrid gets help finally, rejection, and more 🤗

masterlist to other two parts

PLEASE, ALLOW ME TO SHOW

YOU SOMETHING

MM, SOMEBODY GIVE ME, YEAH

SOMEBODY GIVE ME, UH

SOMEBODY TELL ME THE ANSWERS

ME AND YOU ISN'T THE ANSWER (UH)

ME AND YOU ISN'T (NO)

MAYBE I'M TELLIN' MYSELF THAT

BUT THERE AIN'T NOTHIN' THAT'LL

CHANGE THAT

WHAT GOOD WOULD IT BE IF I KNEW

HOW YOU FELT ABOUT ME? (YEAH)

healing, change, forgiveness takes time. especially when one is trying to forgive themselves for their actions.

ingrid's therapist told her this in her most recent appointment when she broke down; her tears and words trying to express the guilt that still hangs heavy in her heart. the way she sobs almost makes it seem like she's the victim in the situation. that she was the one played with and cursed at and left to overthink. ingrid knows this. she knows how fucked up it looks to cry after being the one to do all the hurting, but her therapist reminded her that this is one step on the road to being better. those genuine tears of guilt shows remorse. now actions and effort needs to be put behind them so that those tears aren't put to waste.

when the norwegian whispers out, "what if i have done this sooner? do you think she would have left?" her therapist just gives her a small shake of the head before explaining that the past is the past.

"y/n is not the answer to all your problems. she's not the solution, you are. she may have been your first motivation, but now it's time for yourself to be the motivation. you are doing this for the betterment of you," the woman who goes by the name ms. alcaraz says. the way one of her legs are crossed over the other reminds ingrid of how you use to sit whenever listening to ingrid's rambles about her favorite show. y'all's favorite show. she always found it a little funny how many thoughts and items and mannerisms led back to you in her mind.

ms. alcaraz snaps her fingers to get ingrid out of her head. another thing the norwegian needs to work on; less focusing on the past and more looking at the future. "understand? enough dwelling on how you treated her and more working on the problems that led you to those actions," the therapist says as ingrid nods. that makes complete sense even if almost makes her heart snap in half. all she wants to do is remember and dwell and regret over and over again until she runs herself ragged.

the rest of the session is spent figuring out ways for ingrid to finally stop focusing all her on energy on the non-existent forgiveness she wanted from you and how she can finally start to forgive herself. ms. alcaraz proposes for her to write a letter to you. an actual physical letter. not a text from her fake page or an call from a text now number, a physical letter that ingrid would be forbidden to send. the norwegian wants to tell ms. alcaraz no. that this won't help anything. that it will actually make things worst and how she just couldn't do that but then she remembered how many times "couldn't do it" slipped out of her mouth when she talked to you. how badly that impacted your relationship. the fear that was vocal in those words always annoyed you; and ingrid knew this every single time. she just couldn't bring herself to push past that fear and do it. so no, this time around she can do it. will do it. if not for her then for you. even if you won't ever see it and it will just be laying on her desk for days to come, she had to do this.

you deserve an apology, some type of effort even if the only thing left of you in barcelona is just memories.

all ingrid thought about after leaving the session was what to say. what words could express how deeply she regrets everything and how wrong she was? god she just didn't know.

it has been three months since ingrid made the choice to go to therapy and do something about all her issues. for such a long time after you left all ingrid did was cry herself to sleep on her couch every night and then act completely fine all day in front of her "boyfriend" and everyone else. it took one month in therapy for her to break things off with him; her therapist explained to her how leading him on into believing their relationship was worth anything was wrong and will only lead to pain. not just for him, but for her too since being with someone she didn't love wasn't good for her mental health.

it was month two when she finally sat and accepted that she was a lesbian. "i'm a lesbian and i don't understand what that means for me? i can't... i don't know how to.." ingrid said one day at a session as she picked at the skin near her nails. the appointment was actually supposed to be focused on ingrid's fear of being judged and her fear of people's opinions but her vocally proclaiming that she is infact a lesbian led to a different direction for that day. the first direction was worked on in the next appointment with it being a perfect follow up to helping ingrid with her identity crisis.

month three's word of the month was fear. ingrid hated month three. every single last session was focused on what she fears, why she fears it, and how to overcome that fear. she hated it so badly just because the ingrained reaction to fear in her mind is to run. to shut down and isolate or to lash out and explode. there was never a in-between, but now it had to be. that's what she needed if she ever wanted to get better. that's what she needed to make sure all her regret didn't go to waste.

back to that dreadful letter. ingrid went straight to her desk when she reached her apartment. looking around her bedroom for some paper and pen so she could write down the apology she has been wanting to say to you for ages. ingrid finds a paper and a pen in mere minutes, but as she sits down at her desk she stalls for a moment.

is this even worth it? what if this makes everything worse? what if she spirals and can't even figure out what to say? too many what ifs. too much uncertainty. ingrid hated this. she hated that she couldn't just do it. what is her fucking problem?

tears well up in her eyes as she looks at the blank page. her mind was nothing like it. her mind is messy and full and feels like it's going to slip out of her brain onto the floor.

this won't help.

this won't change anything.

this can't change the past.

ingrid won't change, she can't, she's unable to. she's going to be stuck being a horrible person who can't do anything right. someone who fucks up everything in their life. a failure. no wonder you left; she was a fucking mess.

the norwegian doesn't even notice how her tears are now dripping onto the paper. no, no, no. she has to stop. she can't, won't, refuses to give up. if not for herself than at least for you.

do this for you, ingrid. letting your panic blur your vision won't lead to anything good. breathe, just breathe. let it go.

just write and say whatever is what ingrid mentally says to herself as she picks up the pen and starts writing. her fingers are so shaky that the letters on the page are hardly readable, but the emotions are there. the regret, the sorrow, the pain.

ingrid's so sorry.

and she had to make sure you knew that; in spirit. not in actuality.

so she writes and writes and writes until her fingers feel numb.

dear y/n,

i don't know how to start this off or even what to say. you will never see this, but i want it to be perfect. i ruined everything because i was just so afraid. i was scared to find out how people would react if they knew about us and instead of telling you more about my thoughts, i pushed you away. not just pushed you away, i exploded and treated you like shit to make sure you didn't to be near me. at first when i first started to act out i thought you would leave, but you didn't. why didn't you leave? i will never understand it. i'm so grateful you didn't because the moments when i wasn't being a horrible girlfriend, yes i can freely say that we were together now, were the best moments of my life in all honesty. you didn't give up on us, i did. i'm the one who kept running away. who kept using others to make it seem like our relationship was nothing important. you should have left and taught me lesson. well i guess you finally did, but that was after i put you though months of emotional pain. i was an awful girlfriend who let my own personal issues ruin everything and i ruined you. i know i did. and i'm so sorry. i love you, y/n. i love you so much and i don't know how i will ever move on.

IT COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT, BUT

I WAS WRONG (UH)

ONLY THINK 'BOUT YOU WHEN

I'M ALONE (YEAH)

THE PART OF ME THAT CARED IS

ALMOST GONE

AND I KNOW THAT I CAN'T GET CAUGHT UP

WE COULD'VE BEEN

AND WE TRY TO PRETEND

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN

WE DON'T DREAM ABOUT, DON'T

THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN

THOUGH I'M HOLDING IT IN

'CAUSE I KNOW IN THE END

YOU DREAM ABOUT, I THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN

WE COULD'VE BEEN (DAMN)

WE COULD'VE (DAMN)

when you first left you were the only thing filling up ingrid's thoughts. from the moment she woke up, while getting ready for the day, at practice, on the way back home from practice, at matches, during press conferences, every single moment that she was awake she thought about you.

however after the first few months of therapy, slowly but surely you started to slip her thoughts. she started to get back into her hobbies and became more focused at games. you were slowly becoming a memory for her; that didn't mean the regret and pain wasn't still there. those emotions will always hang in the back of her mind even when she moves on. to the day ingrid is on her deathbed, the bullshit she pulled on you will always stay there; that pain will be taken to the grave.

ms. alcaraz has helped her learn how to live on with those emotions. instead of shutting down whenever ingrid felt like everything was too much she would write or meditate or do yoga. anything to clear her mind.

but there's nights where all the norwegian can do is lay in bed. scrolling down on your instagram. even looking at content posted by the san diego wave social media just to get a glimpse of you. when she saw how you and that mystery brunette has already moved in with eachother she wanted to scream. all of those hours of therapy helped her, they really have, but still the immense urge to just explode rests on her chest.

the urge to just blow up your phone with a text now number. the violent urge to just text you on instagram over and over again until you either answer or block her fake page. the burning urge to leave very specific hate comments under your posts about only things she would know shimmers inside of her. however those urges are never answered.

ingrid has changed. she isn't her past self and she can finally feel proud about it. however still she couldn't block your instagram. her scrolling time has gone down from the entire night to just two hours with the help of therapy, but two hours is two hours too much. ingrid knows this.

she still wants some type of connection to you even if it's just a one way street. she can't help it, so for now she will scroll until she either feels satisfied or like she wants to pull out her hair.

after all that the norwegian wonders to herself what went wrong between you two; she already knows that answer. it was her. it was all her fault, but still it's fun to wonder how it would have been if you two had stayed together. if ingrid wasn't scared out of her mind of public scunity. god she hates the what if's that cloud her mind after seeing you happy with your new girlfriend for the ninth time that week.

sometimes, even though her therapist warned her that it could slow down the work ingrid has been doing on herself, ingrid thinks about a different reality. where you and her had an actual happy relationship that was public. you two would be loved by the public. living a great life together and when you two retire y'all would decide to adopt a little girl. the norwegian is unsure of what name you two would have picked out, but it would be gorgeous just like you. that faraway dream always ends with you two living out the rest of y'all's retired days in norway in a quiet neighborhood.

what she would do for that to be true is something she doesn't want to think about. ingrid still hates herself sometimes for what happened, but slowly you are leaving her life fully; and surprisingly she's not even sad about it. actually she welcomes it. those months of therapy are working their magic on her.

REMEMBER?

REMEMBER THE NIGHT IN MIAMI?

FIRST TIME YOU PUT YOUR ARMS

AROUND ME

I'M UP REMINISCIN' (OOH, YEAH)

AND THINKING 'BOUT YOU ISN'T HELPING

THINKING 'BOUT YOU DOESN'T TELL ME

WHAT GOOD WOULD IT DO IF I

DECIDE TO FACE THE TRUTH

IT COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT, BUT I WAS WRONG

ONLY THINK 'BOUT YOU WHEN I'M ALONE

YOU ONLY HIT ME UP WHEN SHE'S NOT HOME

AND THAT'S WHY I CAN'T GET CAUGHT UP

WE COULD'VE BEEN

AND WE TRY TO PRETEND

EVERY NOW AND AGAIN

WE DON'T DREAM ABOUT, DON'T

THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE BEEN (OH YEAH)

THOUGH I'M HOLDING IT IN

'CAUSE I KNOW IN THE END

YOU DREAM ABOUT, I THINK ABOUT WHAT

WE COULD'VE, WE COULD'VE BEEN

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN, WE COULD'VE BEEN

ingrid doesn't know when, but sometime after she hit the sixth month of therapy she started to move on from you. something she never thought she would be doing, but she also didn't think you would ever leave either or that she would be in therapy these days so ingrid got used to the surprises that invaded her life.

slowly her heart started to wander towards someone else. a certain tattooed spaniard whose smile sends shivers down her spine; mapi.

ingrid doesn't know when the lines between friendship and love started to blur with mapi, but they did. the spainard was someone she went to when everything got too overwhelming and her therapist's hours were closed. clinging to mapi's waist as her head rests on the defender chest. "sometimes i just feel so stuck you know.. like all my progress wasn't worth it," the norwegian mumbles. mapi's hands rub soft circles on her lower back as she listens. taking in every word ingrid says. "you're never stuck, life always has to move on. just try your best every time, ingrid" she says softly. that's how it always was when mapi comforted ingrid and frankly, the norwegian loves it.

their friendship wasn't always that close. back when you left, ingrid had isolated herself socially. she would go to outings with the team and her little cover-up boyfriend, but she wasn't talking as much as she usually was or drinking or just being her usual self. then after the third month of therapy ms. alcaraz helped her understand that isolation doesn't help anything and that she needs a support system, so ingrid started to go back into being more social. it really did help along with all the therapy she was doing.

then she just started to gravitate towards mapi. it was something alluring and fun about the defender. and it was the same for mapi. she thought ingrid was gorgeous since the first day they met, but never got a chance to get close to her. with ingrid's attention on her, mapi finally found the opportunity to become friends. maybe even more.

only a few weeks of this closeness and it bled into something more. ingrid would be scared of how fast things are going usually, this is how you two's mess of a relationship started, but her therapist has told her to welcome new things. not to run away from the things she wants anymore.

she wants mapi.

ingrid refused to let this new situation stay the way it is. she wanted a relationship, not a messy situationship. since she was the problem in you two's relationship, ingrid decided to be the one to start off on the right foot in this new one.

"can i take you out?" the norwegian asks one day while mapi was cooking some dinner in ingrid's apartment while wearing her pajamas; yeah this had to become something official sooner rather than later. they're already in too deep.

mapi gives her a quick glance over her shoulder, a small smirk on her lips. she just shrugs as she goes back to cooking. "i would love that," mapi says. bringing the freshly cooked food still in the pan over to the table. "i have plates you know" ingrid says playfully as she smiles. mapi rolls her eyes playfully as she turns back to the counter to grab two forks from the drawer. "we don't need them, chica" the spaniard chuckles as she sits down at the table. scooting her chair closer to ingrid's until their legs touch.

the warmth of the first bite was just like the warmth ingrid has been on the receiving end of. mapi is warm like the sun; an overwhelming presence that fills any room it steps in. mapi is ingrid's star and hopefully her only star for the rest of their lives.

the week after is when they decide to go out. it's on a sunday which has officially become their day since the two footballers always hang out on that day especially. spending the whole day together while doing mundane things. however this one was extra special, because they were going out instead of staying in.

ingrid stands in front of the floor length mirror in her living room. checking out the blue silk dress she decided to wear with black heels to match. is too formal? ingrid thinks to herself. she isn't able to dwell more on the topic as a knock at the door interrupts her thoughts.

mapi.

a smile already reaches the norwegian's face as she walks over to her front door. opening it to see a nicely dressed mapi. the spainard put on a black dress, similar to ingrid's. "didn't think we would be matching, bonita," mapi chuckles as she takes in ingrid's look. she looks gorgeous. mapi gets a bit distracting as she checks out ingrid before looking back at the woman's face. "huh? sorry. you're just too beautiful right now," mapi smiles.

"oh? more than usual?" ingrid jokes as she gestures for mapi to come inside. closing the door behind them before walking over to her couch to grab her jacket and purse. "hm of course not. you always look amazing. i just couldn't stop my eyes from wandering, that's all," mapi says as she leans against the door. smiling once ingrid turns back around and smiles back at her.

"let's go, bonita" the spainard says as she grabs ingrid's hand. interlocking it with hers. then they leave out of the door. a burst of giggles leaving them both as ingrid almost trips over her heels.

the rest of the night is full of happiness like that. the two footballers go out for dinner firstly then some ice cream for dessert and a small walk around the streets to end it off.

ingrid smiles at mapi as they stand in front of mapi's car. their date is sadly coming to an end and spending the night together wasn't in the question; can't go too fast. "can i kiss you?" mapi says softly as their hands interlock, swinging slightly. "i don't know, can you, maria?" mapi just laughs at ingrid's words before pulling her into a short kiss.

after savoring the moment, the two pull away from each other. shy smiles sitting on both of their lips. ingrid pecks mapi's cheek before letting go of her hand and running off to go inside her apartment building. mapi just chuckles as she watches ingrid run into the building.

ingrid's still smiling once she gets inside of her apartment. she couldn't believe how well the date went. those fears of possibly fucking up another relationship fade away as she changes out of her dress. kicking off her heels that been hurting her feet since they had ice cream.

as she slips into the shower, darker emotions cloud her mind. why does she suddenly feel guilty? those burning feelings of regret claw at her conscience as the hot water hits her body.

does she deserve to move on? after all the hurt she caused you, did she deserve to be happy with someone else?

the norwegian thinks back on you two's first unofficial date. with you both being too shy to call it an actual date; just calling it a simple hangout. it was a festival happening around this time in barcelona so of course you had to bring ingrid out there. that night was full of laughter and fun with it ending with a sweet kiss done near the beach. ingrid sometimes wonder what would have happened if she would have just asked you to be her girlfriend right after that moment. if she would have let your situation turn into an actual relationship. if she would had gone public with you on her social media months into the situationship like she did with that cover-up. would things be different? would you have been here right now and this night of fun of mapi would have never existed? for some reason ingrid frowns just thinking about that possibility.

in the past, all she wanted was to go back and fix everything so you two could be together in the present. however, now after her date with mapi she didn't want that. would it really have been better? the teenage puppy love feelings that were coursing through her isn't the same as the feelings she felt with you. the fear of being known tainted whatever love that was between you two.

it doesn't matter anymore. let it go. ingrid thinks to herself as she shuts off the water before stepping out of the shower. she looks at herself in the mirror as she dries her hair. she's done. ingrid realizes she has finally done it.

she has fallen out of love with you. out of love with constantly feeling the regret and guilt. ingrid is over you and ready to move onto more things in her life. ones that don't involve overthinking constantly about what she's done to you.

ingrid has forgiven herself.

that was the night ingrid blocked your instagram and deleted your number.

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN, YEAH

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN

AYY

WHAT WE COULD'VE BEEN

WHAT WE SHOULD'VE BEEN

IF I WASN'T, IF I WASN'T WITH SOMEBODY

IF YOU GOTTA HIDE IT, WHAT'S

THE POINT OF TRYING?

I AIN'T JUST YOUR FRIEND, NO, WHAT'S

THE POINT OF LYING?

TRYA SELL A STORY AIN'T NOBODY BUYIN'

LOOK ME IN MY EYES, DON'T THAT FEEL NICE?

WHY SHOULD IT END? BABY I COULD'VE BEEN

I COULD'VE BEEN HIM, MORE

THAN YOUR FRIEND

JUST SAY WHERE AND WHEN, WHERE

TO MAKE A TRIP

BABY, MAKE A WISH, BE THE ONE I'M WITH

SHOULD'VE BEEN A, SHOULD'VE, COULD'VE,

WOULD HAVE BEEN, AYY

YEAH, I WOULD HAVE BEEN (DAMN)

YEAH, I WOULD HAVE BEEN (YEAH)

DAMN, DAMN (COULD'VE BEEN)

YEAH, WE COULD'VE BEEN (OH NO)

around four months later, after officially getting together with mapi, ingrid decides to face her biggest fear. the one that toppled you two's relationship.

she posts a photo of mapi kissing her on the cheek on her instagram. cutting off her phone the moment it's posted, she may not be scared of having a public lesbian relationship anymore but still she didn't want to look at the comments.

nearly a full year of therapy has changed her into a much better person and girlfriend. the teasing comments from her teammates about them not knowing she was into girls weren't as frightening as she thought they would be. the online discussion about the reveal of mapi and her relationship was more positive than she expected.

oh, it really was just the fear holding her back.

it has been months upon months since ingrid had last seen you and she was fine with keeping it that way. of course she knew eventually you two would see each other somewhere. the women's football world is only so big with most women footballers being around each other at the same events and campaigns. however she didn't think it would be so soon.

she had been invited to an event by puma for their new campaign with puma athletes. it was later on during the event when ingrid spots you. one moment she's eating peacefully on her pasta and the next she's looking up to see your eyes on her.

what..?

she doesn't remember you being a puma athlete. perhaps that partnership happened after she blocked your instagram. god, now all that pasta is about to come up out of her throat. ingrid wants to run and run until this night is just a distant memory, but she doesn't. because ingrid is a different woman now. she doesn't run away from her fears now, she faces them.

the eye contact between you two doesn't last long as you look away. ingrid's throat feels like it's collapsing in on itself as she stands up and heads towards the bathroom.

as the norwegian throws some water on her face before looking up in the mirror. you come into the bathroom, warily standing next to the door as you look at her. "i didn't expect to see you again," you say softly. ingrid gives you a glance before sighing. this was a chance to at least give you an apology.

"y/n, i'm so sorry. for everything. i ruined something that could have been great and i treated you horribly. you didn't deserve that.." ingrid says as she looks at her, trying to see your reaction. you stay silent as you gesture for her to continue. "i was so afraid and needed so much help. i'm sorry it took you being hurt enough to leave for me to get it. i been doing therapy for months now and i am a way better person now," ingrid gives you an apologetic smile, "just know it was all me. never you. everything that happened was never your fault, y/n."

silence fills up the room as she finishes talking. you just blankly stare at her. it unnerves her, but it's okay. she's ready to see whatever reaction you will give.

"i don't forgive you.." are the words that come out of your mouth. ingrid just nods; it's understandable after all she's done to you. "but i'm glad you got help. finally," you say. she can tell you are being genuine with your tone.

the two of you look at each other before you turn and leave the bathroom. ingrid leaves out a bit after. heading back to her table feeling lighter than before.

she didn't get forgiveness, but you acknowledged how much work she has done. that's all she needed.

author notes: LMAOO it took me so long to finish this, but it's done. so basically i made another version of this part where ingrid is a little less sane in the head and also i plan to make a part 3 focused on the reader. which will be the last part (unless i change my mind), so if y'all could vote on what y'all want me to post first please do.

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #norwnt

172 notes · View notes