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poppy-in-the-woods · 1 day

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My Ride or Die - Part 2

Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. After the conjugal visit for his birthday, you visit him, bringing food and other presents to help him keep warm on cold nights.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 2601

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: fluff, bit of angst, convict!Noah, masturbation, mentions of suggestive pictures.

Author’s note: betaed by the amazing @rottingfern. Sorry for the long wait, but you know, life gets in the way of writing sometimes, and I wanted to polish this one as much as I could. Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.

It had been exactly a week since you last saw Noah. You definitely needed a bit more recovery before thinking about having wild sex again, the ache between your legs still dully moaning, but you two were happy to see each other nonetheless.

The room was busy with spouses and kids that came to visit other inmates. Noah sat alone as he waited for you, but he quickly rose up when he saw you approaching. You greeted him with a quick hug and a peck on the lips and sat in front of him, putting the bag you were carrying on the bench beside you.

“How are you, my love?” you asked.

“Not bad. Better than most days now that you are here,” he said.

“I brought you some presents,” you said, taking the items out of the bag. “Here’s your sandwich,” you began, pushing it to him. He unwrapped it with an excited smile and began scarfing it down. “Slow down, honey, or it’s gonna hurt your stomach,” you told him.

“Sorry,” he said, chewing slower.

“I also brought you some extra underwear and socks,” you continued, putting the paper bag on the table.

“Nice!”

“The shampoo and deodorant you like…” you listed, taking them out of the bag too and placing them beside the underwear, “and a belated birthday present!” you announced, handing him the wrapped package.

“They let you bring that without opening it first?” he asked, skeptical.

“I told them it was a present, so they did me a favor” you told him, shrugging it off like it was nothing. You knew the schedule of the guard who had a soft spot for you and you fully took advantage of that, though you’d never tell that to Noah. “They ran it through the X-ray machine, with the rest of the stuff,” you assured him.

“No metal file or spoon hidden, then,” he joked.

“No, sorry,” you replied, chuckling as he finished unwrapping the book: it was a hardback copy of High Magick (A Guide to The Spiritual Practices That Saved My Life on Death Row), by Damien Echols. “Don’t take off the plastic just yet,” you whispered. He nodded. “I am sure you will find it a very interesting reading,” you added, in a normal tone.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hands and quickly kissing your knuckles.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, letting go of your hands before the guard could decide that it was too much physical contact and end the visit early.

“How’s it going with that newbie? Did he bother you again?” you asked, trying to make some small talk.

“Nah. It’s all good now, he learned his place,” he replied, finishing the sandwich. He let you clean his mouth with the paper napkin.

“Good.”

“I received your letter yesterday, by the way” he told you.

“They took their sweet time reading it, didn’t they?” you fumed.

“I’m sure the warden loves your prose, and the poems. I certainly do,” he said. “I especially loved the lines that said ‘My heart is a bird/ that every night takes flight/ to you and guards your sleep’, and ‘I dream of your hands around my waist, / your breath on my neck, / your heat inside mine, / and our hearts beating in sync’”.

“I wasn’t too inspired with the rhymes in that last one,” you said, grimacing.

As much as you didn’t feel any embarrassment for the words you wrote to Noah, you didn’t want them repeated to you. Creative writing was an outlet your therapist recommended, as were the dabbles in poetry, but you didn’t fancy yourself a poet. Noah was the poet and the musician, not you.

“By the way, do you need another notebook?” you asked.

You had given him a pretty notebook when he entered prison so he could annotate whatever he wanted, and you knew he had been using it as a sort of journal and to write his lyrics and compose his music. A month before the anniversary of his first year locked up, he had requested a new one. You had bought one with more pages that time. He was on notebook number three now.

“No, I still haven’t filled the last one. I will tell you when I need a new one, but thanks for asking,” he said, smiling. “How are you, baby? How are things at work?”

“I’m fine. Before I forget, I have a new manager now, a lady in her fifties - the old one was fired because Shelly reported him to HR for attempted grooming,” you explained. Shelly was your only underage coworker, a sixteen-year-old girl who was still in high-school. “Anyway, the new one is very nice, and upon learning about you, she told me she has a son in prison.”

“In here?” he asked.

“No, he’s in another facility. He committed tax evasion and had a money laundering scheme going on. He got mixed with the wrong crowd, apparently,” you informed him. “They don’t see each other that much, but she writes him letters every week. She told the whole team that my visitation days are sacred and that if anyone needs a change of schedule, to try anyone else, because I am not available,” you finished smiling.

“I already like her,” he said, containing a laugh.

“She also said you were very handsome ‘despite all that ink’”, you told him, marking the quotations in the air. “She’s kind of old-fashioned regarding tattoos.”

“Tell her I said thank you for the compliment,” he replied. “And that I don’t take offense to her not liking my tattoos.”

“Will do!”

“I have something for you,” he said, taking a square envelope from under his ass. “I recorded it with the boys. I want you to be the first to listen to it,” he said, as you took the CD out of the envelope. You smiled, looking at the title and all the signatures.

“I feel honored, honestly,” you said, immediately putting it in your purse. “I’ll listen to it tonight, though it might take me a while to write an in-depth review.”

“Don’t worry about that, we can wait. The boys send their regards, by the way,” he said.

“Tell them I said hi back. I’m so happy you made friends here! And Nick… well, I am not happy that he is in prison too, but… at least you already had a friend the day you arrived, you know?” you said.

“I was relieved to see a familiar face the first day, I’m not gonna lie,” Noah admitted.

“By the way, I spoke with the lawyer…” you began.

“No,” he snapped, cutting you off.

“But I would just spend two years, and your sentence would be reduced -” you began.

He grabbed your wrists.

“Look at me: we already talked about this, and I won’t let you spend a single day behind bars. I fired the gun, I take the blame,” he said, holding your gaze intently.

“But…” you tried to argue. While you recognized and were grateful for his sacrifice, you didn’t want him to spend so much time behind bars. You thought you were strong enough to endure two years if that meant he got to be free earlier. Why wouldn’t he let you do that for him? You loved him just as he loved you; why shouldn’t you sacrifice in return?

“No buts,” he said, putting a finger over your lips. “I heard what the guards do to the female inmates in prison and I won’t let you go through that to shave five years off my sentence,” he said, finally releasing your hands. “End of discussion.”

“Okay. I love you so much, Noah!” you said after a pause, on the verge of tears.

“I love you too, baby. Now, don’t cry! You know I hate to see that here,” he said, and you knew he was right: the crying was best reserved for when no one could see, because any sign of weakness on your part could reflect badly on him. You took a deep breath and smiled at him. “That’s better. Do you have an appointment with your therapist this week?”

“Yeah, this afternoon,” you nodded. You had taken notes to talk to your therapist about his response to your proposal, whatever his response would be, though you didn’t expect him to agree, honestly.

“Good. Tell her I enjoyed the books she recommended.”

“That one is also a recommendation from her,” you said, lightly tapping the Damien Echols book. “The extra material is all my idea, though,” you whispered. He arched an eyebrow, questioningly. “You’ll see.”

Not long after, you had to end the visit. With another quick hug and light peck on the lips, you said goodbye to him. On the way back home, you put the CD in the player of your car and listened to it. The lyrics were so beautiful and his voice sounded so clear, like he was beside you, that you had to pull over to the side of the road for a couple of minutes while you let the tears finally flow.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a voice asked. You lifted your gaze to find a police officer standing by the side of your car. You rolled down the window and stopped the music. “Are you injured?”

“No, sir, I am fine. I just got emotional and… I needed a moment.”

“I see. What was that band, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh! That was Bad Omens; it’s my husband’s band. They’re on Spotify, I think.”

“They sound good, I’ll give them a listen. If you are better now, I suggest you go on your way,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

Every lawyer you ever spoke to always told you the same thing: if you’re ever stopped by a police officer, be polite and don’t let them know you have a spouse in prison, because they will look at you differently and there’s a chance they won’t be nice to you upon learning that fact.

You continued your way and arrived home in time to prepare a meal for yourself, feed the cat and go to your therapist appointment.

Meanwhile, Noah was in his cell, unwrapping the book from its plastic. He noticed an envelope taped to the back cover. He opened it to find several pictures. Eight of them were of you, recreating some pin-up posters; hot, but nothing that could be considered pornographic. The ninth, tenth and eleventh were more risqué, something that could be classified as artistic nudes, but the twelfth…

He took the picture number 12 in his hands, looking at it closely. It was a close up of your nude chest, focusing on the tattoo over your sternum. Your nipples were not in frame, but he knew your breasts far too well, so he was able to complete that image mentally.

He carefully picked up the other photographs and put them back in the envelope. He then taped this one to the metal frame of the bunk bed above him and slid a hand in his pants. His mind was already racing, conjuring the image of you naked beside him, kissing him and touching him with light fingers.

“This one’s for you, baby” he muttered, stroking his cock.

Not shortly after he was finished, Nick leaned into the cell.

“Dude, what are you doing? We’re waiting for you in the music room!” he said.

“What?”

“Did you forget we scheduled a rehearsal for today?” Nick asked, entering the cell.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Were you reading?” Nick asked, seeing the book next to Noah. “Is it any good?” he wanted to know, picking it up.

“Give it back!”

But it was too late: Nick had already seen the envelope and was inspecting its content.

“Oh, I see! You weren’t reading, you were jerking off in her honor” he laughed. “To be fair, I also do it in her honor sometimes,” he joked.

“Not funny, bro! Not funny.” Noah replied, snatching the book from him. “It’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. Is something wrong between you two?” Nick asked, suddenly serious.

“No. She tried to bring up the appeal, thinks she should take part of the blame,” he said. “I told her she can forget about it, and I hope this time she listens. I understand where she comes from, but I love her far too much to let her do it.”

“And she loves you far too much not to try to convince you,” Nick pointed out.

“I guess so…”

“She does. I mean, she risked flirting with the guy at the entrance to bring you this, didn’t she?” Nick said, pointing at the book.

“What do you mean?”

“Rumor says that if you don’t want something to be too closely inspected, you compliment the guard at the entrance. Works like a charm if you’re a pretty woman, or at least that’s what my cousin said,” Nick told him. “Those pictures? They would probably be considered porn and confiscated. She’s a criminal mastermind, dude.”

“Yeah, sure,” Noah said, amused, but his laughter quickly died on his lips, as the implications of what Nick just told him sank in: you had taken too many risks for him and his pleasure, more than he was comfortable with. He sighed; his beautiful, smart and reckless wife! What was he going to do with you? “You will get out before me. Would you keep an eye on her for me?”

“Sure, dude. She’s my friend too, you know?”

Noah knew you also corresponded with Nick and talked to him on the phone. Past benders aside, you two were close enough for Nick to call you a friend. Knowing his friend, Nick was likely the one to suggest the fiery red lingerie to her as a birthday surprise, and if his suspicion was correct, Noah was very grateful to him.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me yet. We’re still both in this shithole, so maybe we could go to the music room now and rehearse?”

“Sure.”

That Saturday, while you were watching a movie, your phone rang. It was a collect call from jail, which you quickly accepted.

“Hey, baby!” Noah’s voice greeted you through the line.

“Hi! How are you? Is everything okay?” you asked, straightening yourself up on the couch. He didn’t seem distraught, but he was in jail after all, you could never be sure.

“Everything is as okay as it can be. I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “Oh, I have begun with your present. You were right, it’s a very interesting reading.”

“Did you enjoy the extras?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah! Thank you, baby.”

“By the way, I almost finished analyzing the record,” you told him. “I have the last two songs left and the conclusions, and I will have a full review, song by song.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he said.

“I know, but I like doing it, and I like to think that my reviews are useful for you guys, you know? To have a listener’s perspective,” you replied.

“Of course they are useful!” he assured you. “I just say it’s not an obligation,” he clarified.

“I know, and it doesn’t feel like it,” you swore.

“Okay. I need to go now, but I love you. Sweet dreams, baby,” he said.

“Sweet dreams, my love! I love you too,” you replied, and he hung up.

The next conjugal visit couldn’t come fast enough.

#poppy writes #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #convict!noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #my ride or die #bad omens fanfiction

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chaithetics · 16 hours

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Very Own, Personal Venus

Pairing: Abel Morales x plus size f (afab) reader Word count: 2.4K Warning/note: 18 + MDNI, fluff, established relationship, oral (f receiving). A/N: Not proofread, I hope you all enjoy it! I was hoping to get this out a lot sooner than what I did, so oops! Plus size, midsize, chubby, curvy girlies are absolute beauties, you/we deserve more love. No physical description mentioned other than reader being plus size! I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it but especially you! Please validate me and this fic, comments, reblogs and asks very much appreciated🫶 Tagging with much appreciation @steven-grants-world x Gif by @flawless-v1ctory

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It was a late night at the start of a cool winter when Abel’s car pulled into the driveway and he came home from a long day. Due to the temperature, he’d spent most of the day when at meetings and driving bundled up in his signature, large, caramel coat.

When Abel stepped inside, it was much warmer, it was perfectly cosy and he quickly took his coat off and hung it on the coat rack then he immediately took his shoes off and placed them in the shoe rack by the door. You weren’t downstairs which didn’t surprise him, it was late and he knew you’d be wrapped up like a gift in bed, either sleeping or reading.

Abel walked upstairs to your bedroom, the door was open and a light was on, he leaned against the doorway. Abel’s eyes immediately landed on you, the way that your body is laid out in bed and on display, he can’t help but bite on the inside of his cheek as he thinks about how you look like an antique piece of art depicting a goddess treasured in some museum as he takes in the soft waves of your body. His own personal Venus.

Abel lets out a low, little whistle as he steps out of the shadow of his day that hangs from the doorframe and walks further into the light of where you are in the bed. You hear the whistle and his footsteps against the floor, you start to turn over to look up and face him.

You blink tiredly for a minute as your eyes focus on his approaching figure and you give him a small smile, staying in the comfortable bed that is just perfectly cosy with all the blankets and covers. You move your arm up so you can rest your head a bit on it as you try to wake yourself up more.

“It’s late…” You whisper as he moves to sit on the bed.

‘I know baby, I’m sorry.” He says as he caresses your forehead gently while looking at you.

You’re happy to see him, you miss him during the day and you’ve certainly been missing him more lately with the late nights he’s been working over the last week trying to make everything happen for another deal and the endless issues that an entrepreneur like him is constantly grappling with.

Abel’s met with your kind smile, as you look up at him. You’re too kind for him, too perfect. It’s the thoughts that come to his mind as he looks at your gorgeous smile and how that makes your plump cheeks look. He caresses your face for a moment, his fingers dancing over the full cheeks and he tilts his head down to place a gentle, grateful kiss there.

As he does that, you place a hand into his hair, the gelled back hair, neat and short enough, styled so that his natural curls aren’t springing free, much to your dismay. But he’s still perfectly handsome like this.

You place your other hand to his shoulder and caress it softly with a tired sigh. He’s wearing one of his turtlenecks again and he looks so goddamn good. He knows you love that item of clothing on him, you don’t know what it is but it just is some universal thing that makes every look look better and Abel just pulls them off so well. No matter what colour, fabric, or where they are brought from, they all seem to be tailor-made for his body in the sexiest way possible. Your cheeks heat up a little as you think about how good he looks. You had the most handsome and softly spoken husband in the world.

“How was your day though?” You ask as you watch his face. There’s a tired look there but there’s a smile on his lips which grows each time his eyes look at you and he hears your voice. It’s the best sound in the world to him, especially after a long day.

“It was okay, it’s better now that I’m here with you.” He whispers which makes you smile. He’s always so sweet, a mouth of sugar.

Abel’s hand moves down from your cheek as he caresses your neck and then your shoulder, you can’t help but watch his face as the most peaceful expression takes over him as his hand travels further down your body. He ends up caressing your upper arm as his fingers run along the visible stretch marks on your skin, up and down, over and over. It’s a gentle, affectionate touch. He lets out a little peaceful hum.

He looks completely content and you can’t help but feel the same feeling, an easiness in your bones, as you look at him and breathe slowly as he does too. You’re sure that if you pressed your head against his warm chest and listened to his heart you’d find that you’re both so peaceful and in sync that your hearts would be beating together in time.

“Is it gonna be a quieter day tomorrow?” You ask as you relax more, feeling your body sink further into the mattress as his hand continues, you can tell that Abel is completely focused on you as he does this. He blinks slowly for a moment, his warm brown eyes had been focusing on where he’d been caressing you and they focus again on your sweet face. He gives a little nod. “Yeah, it should be. I should be home for a late dinner at least, honey.” He says softly in his dreamy voice, it’s becoming a bit breathier. Your eyes then widen, you’d put leftovers in the fridge for him but he might’ve just come straight to bed and not eaten at all. You knew he usually had lunch but it’s been quite a while since then so you tilt your head as you look at his face. “Have you not eaten? Abel! There’s leftovers in the refrigerator, do you want me to heat it up for you? A snack? Oh Abel…” “I’m fine, I’ve eaten today. Might just have a little snack.” He says as he tilts his head to look at you with a growing smirk on his adoring face.

He moves the silk of your nightgown up to your stomach, exposing your thighs and intimate areas. Abel moves down your body sprinkling some kisses along your neck and full breasts and stomach. He gets down to between your thick thighs and smiles widely. It’s the most animated he’s looked since being home and you can’t help but smile back as your cheeks heat up at this sight.

“I just need something sweet before bed.” He whispers against the sensitive skin of your thighs, it draws a sharp gasp from you and you feel your fingers start to instinctively search for a corner of a sheet or pillow to grip onto in preparation of what’s to come. His fingers dance along the softness of your thighs. “Can I have a sweet treat, beautiful?” Abel asks in a voice that’s soft and feels musical, you can feel each breath of his words.

Your cheeks heat up more and you bite your lip, it takes a couple of seconds for your brain to connect to whatever part of your nervous system it needs to to say the ‘yes’ aloud and not just think it. You finally say it and give a quick, frantic nod.

Abel’s hands expertly run around the soft thighs that he loves, he’s done this a million times and will do it at least another million times more. He peppers on kisses up and down your thighs, you squirm slightly at the feeling of his lips and hot breath. He knows just how to turn you on perfectly and immediately.

His eyes were closed for a moment as he kissed your thighs and his ran up to your vulva. He ran his fingers around, not getting anywhere near your hole or bundle of nerves as he teased you, he wouldn’t call it that though. He’d say he was building up anticipation. He did that for a moment before he palmed you, you let out a gasp at that and gripped the pillow next to you. You knew what was coming next.

Abel’s finger circled your sensitive bundle of nerves three times, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He was kissing your inner thigh now as he moved his fingers and he started to dip one into your hole, it was barely in but he was teasing you nonetheless, starting to work you up. You felt your breath become a little shaky as your cheeks heated, you bucked your hips up, trying to get more contact with his fingers, needing to swallow him up more.

You gasped, letting out a giggle as you felt his smirk against your thigh at that somatic ask for more. He smiled more and did as he knew you wanted, he started to move his finger in deeper as you eagerly swallowed his digit up with each movement. You smiled and let out a moan as he did that.

Abel kept kissing your thighs as that happened, he was licking them gently, perfectly content to take his time with you laid out, looking so ethereal with pleasure painted all over your face. When you were like this, it was like a renaissance painting just for his eyes.

His fingers pump in quicker, and he adds another finger in which you can’t help but whine at. You dig another fingers into the pillow next to you and let out a moan as your eyes shut tightly. The feeling of pleasure becomes so much more overwhelming with the extra digit and quicker pace.

It’s now that his mouth moves up and you feel his nose lightly nudge your clitoris and you gasp out, you can’t help but let out a louder moan at that. Abel’s mouth starts to devour you up, he licks through your folds, kissing along your slit and he starts to slowly lick around your bundle of nerves. “Tastes so good, you always taste so good for me.” He whispers against your clitoris and you can’t help but gasp out and slightly shake at that, the feeling of his words, what they do the fire in your loins and what the feeling of his breath does to those sensitive nerves.

Abel quickly goes back to licking your beautiful cunt, he’s lapping up like it’s the sweetest treat he’s ever had, like it’s his only source of water and it’s the hottest day in history. You just taste that good to him. He keeps lapping your juices up, pulling out the most amazing noises out of you.

One of your hands is still tightly gripping onto the pillow but the other quickly moves to his head of perfect hair. You scratch at his scalp, trying to keep it light, despite the fact that with how good he’s making you feel and how overwhelming it is, it would be so easy to scratch harder. You start to tug on his hair as you whine out. His two fingers are still pumping in and out of you at a delicious pace and you can feel his fingers reaching the perfect spot inside.

But it’s what his mouth is doing that is really driving you wild, he’s still lapping through your folds, savouring every last drop of your juices as you whine under him. His hand that isn’t pumping you, is now up holding onto your left breast and squeezing it gently. His eyes are closed now as he treasures this moment, the feeling of your perfect body and how sweet you taste. Abel starts to suck on your clitoris and that’s when you cry out. You try to bite your lip, it feels so damn good and you know you’re close. He keeps pumping his fingers in and out at the same pace, he knows better than to change it up moments away from the finishing line. He keeps licking and sucking on your clitoris, he moans and hums against it as he sucks the release out of you.

Your hand tightens in his ear as you feel your eyes roll back as the feeling overwhelms your whole body. You release, whining out over the high of your orgasm as Abel mouth and tongue slow down in order to help you ride it out and not overstimulate you. You pant and close your eyes, letting go of the pillow you were gripping and holding it to your forehead. You look down at Abel and he’s still between your thighs, looking up at you. He slowly and gently licks up your release and then sprinkles gentle kisses across your thighs.

“You’re so perfect, so beautiful for me.” He whispers as he looks at you adoringly. Your cheeks heat up again and you smile tiredly at him.

You’re saying it all with your eyes, you love him, you’re grateful for him. He’s the only one who can make you feel that good. And he feels exactly the same, and he says it all with his eyes too as he looks up at you.

Abel is looking more tired now though, you’re both absolutely exhausted and ready for sleep now. You’ve had another amazing release because of his handiwork and he got his sweet treat that he needed so badly before bed.

He smiles tiredly at you and moves his body slowly back up. He kisses your hip one last time, then your soft stomach, making sure to sprinkle it in affectionate kisses as he then lands to your neck for a long, sweet kiss. Abel then rests his head against your chest, he caresses your arm softly as your legs tangle together and you start to play with his hair as you close your eyes, feeling content. Both of your breathing settles, back to normal and then start to slow down as tangled up, you both drift off to sleep. You feel him give your chest one last kiss before he tilts his head, closes his eyes and falls into a peaceful slumber. One he could only have with you.

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lxvvie · 2 days

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Ooooo I got a couple of ideas 👀👀

After looking at some of the comic panels they’re in together, they lowkey act like exs

So maybe…

Either Ghost or Mace (because he’s part of the shadow company) gets loaned out to either team for a mission, and discovers the other is still around

(I’m playing fast and loose with the canons because we don’t know 2019 Ghost’s backstory) Ghace had broken up right before Ghost got sent out on the Roba mission. Mace hasn’t seen Ghost since Roba, and genuinely thought he died, although he never stopped looking. Ghost, because he’s been declared legally dead, didn’t really have any record of him coming back.

Fast forward to when they see each other again. First the avoidance, the drama, why didn’t you tell me you’re alive, i thought you were dead, why would you even want to see me again, and all that

This is a longer mission, so they eventually resolve it, but you know what they don’t resolve? the sexual tension. Going at each other HARD during sparring, pinning each other to the floor in suggestive manners, homoerotiscm in the showers,

Now as for reader, I have two ideas. One is civilian reader who’s ghost’s girl. He comes home feeling guilty about these feelings, confesses it to her, and shows her a picture of who he’s talking about. Reader is just like “he down for a threeway”

Or, reader is a medic for 141 who either gets loaned out along with ghost, or she help’s mace when he comes. And she is also ghost’s girl.

And reader is used to working with difficult personalities, so she quickly builds trust with Mace and he realizes that God damn she’s nice too

Either way, it’s gonna end up in a sandwich and someone’s not gonna be able to walk.

Maybe It’ll be ghost getting tag-teamed to hell and back by letting Mace bounce him on his dick while reader rides him to tears

Maybe Mace takes a trip to Paris to see the eiffel tower, with Simon drilling him into the bed and reader sat on his face

Or perhaps dear reader is getting her back blown out while by two unnecessarily big men. Cockdrunk and barely coherent enough to beg them to PLEASE never stop

I’m sorry this is so long, I like to yap 😭

I just want you to know that I fucks Ghace x Reader and I fucks with all of this 💯 . Every. Damn. Scenario.

And if you thought Ghost was fucking nasty, Mace is downright disgusting. Makes you wonder what they were like when it was just them but now? Holy fucking shit. They have your ass crying in the shower because the dick was so good. Too damn good. Demon. Fucking. Dick.

They ask you what you want to eat like they didn't just fuck the shit out of you and you go off on them and start crying again because you miss the dick even though you can still barely stand after the first round lmao.

#nsfw.#call of duty modern whorefare.#ghace x reader #mace x ghost x reader #real throuple shit: demon dick edition #ghost would be that power bottom riding theeee fuck out of mace and making him tell Ghost he missed him.#or else he can't cum. lmao

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bloobydabloob · 2 months

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Is there a reason ur drawings kinda look like someone stretched them in some direction. Not in a mean way. It's very silly imo /pos

Thank you, I’m glad you like it. I take inspiration from artists like @tostyart (twt) @robert_valley (insta) jasonlupas (twt) and several other artists, who do the same thing. I think it looks great. There’s no deeper reason sadly… just think it looks cool.

#third ask in a row about the skew. Hahaha #I get why some people might not like it #I love it though. I think it’s sooo sick #I deleted yesterday’s ask because I didn’t want to clog my page with asks but I’ll reiterate #I don’t think that imperfect art should be fixed or corrected #I struggle more specifically with rigidity in my art #I have a tendency to overwork the shapes in my art to the point where it’s just… stiff as hell #So I think also the skew helps disguise that a little. Maybe I’m a cheater #But anyways #I really like skewiff or quote unquote wonky looking art.#I love art and I love beginner artists and I love shakey lines and imperfections #I think it’s soo awesome.#I dig all art to be honest. Really honestly I just like art. I’m rambling here haha #but no… Some of the people listed get insecure about the asymmetry or whatever in their art.#I don’t think anyone should be ashamed of their art as long as they are doing something they enjoy and improving #without wonky art and without weird looking stuff #we wouldn’t improve. That’s what really sucks #But I guess that’s not why I do it. I wish I could do the skew on accident dude.#Please check out @tostyart by the way #genuinely probably one of my favorite artists of all time #I think you will enjoy their stuff. It’s so different to everything else and their characters are wonderful #they have such wonderful line work and are so great at working with composition and perspective.#Everything I aspire to be #Sorry for tag rambling. I did this exact thing yesterday too #don’t give me the opportunity to talk about art. I’ll never shut up.#still not on topic though #TLDR : I think it looks cool

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povlnfour · 1 month

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

genre: comedy, fluffy

authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!

*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others

landonorris practicing safe driving

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user you are so unserious sir

user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC

user no clue but she’s CUTE

oscarpiastri @/fia look here

landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met

user it’s giving meet cute

user i’d read a fic on it

yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR

landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED

user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???

user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others

yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!

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user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN

user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms

bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead

yourusername can you blame me

user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that

friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days

user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶

user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

[captions:

photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!

photo 2: :D

photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]

texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris and 11,276 others

yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place

👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris

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user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???

bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles

landonorris seconded

user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?

user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others

landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races

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user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped

user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?

user my heart is shattering already

mclaren 🧡

user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE

texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚

[transcript:

o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race

l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!

o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!

l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?

o: stop deflecting!

l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!

o: so how are things going now?

l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah

o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—

l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 203,467 people

mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?

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user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do

mclaren 👀

user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip

oscarpiastri you love me for it

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!

user what on earth is going on…

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others

yourusername lately :)

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user you are so ! gorgeous !

user i can see why lando is obsessed

user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️

oscarsgf pretty girl!!!

yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!

user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???

mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 287,456 people

mclaren it’s race day🫡

view all comments

user WHO IS THE GIRL

user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N

user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER

user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE

user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others

yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?

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user OH MY GOD FINALLY

landonorris i will hit you with my car again

yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?

landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast

yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit

user i love them. i love them so much.

oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates

landonorris leave this comment section now

yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others

landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services

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user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN

user new fav couple fr

oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me

user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER

user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well

oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing

yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me

landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel

mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?

landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there

———————

a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!

in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)

let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍

for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia

#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris au #lando norris imagine #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris smau #lando norris scenario #lando norris one shot

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tojikai · 4 months

Text

Sundered 9: RESOLVE

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of abortion

word count: 7.8k

a/n: sorry, it took so long. i had problems lol mb

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.”

“Like what?” You looked up at him, a look of worry filling your wide eyes. He stared down at you with an expression you can’t read. You felt his hands trail beside you, before cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. “Toji, was I not-” And he was quick to quell you

“No, Y/N. It’s not on you, stop putting everything on yourself, baby.” He hates that the first thing you think when something fails is your fault. He hates that he’s making you feel like you’re the only one who needs to put in the work.

After your arguments, Toji’s been thinking that his emphasis on how you’re being pointlessly jealous of a dead person is why you think you’re the only one who has to make big adjustments. That’s probably why you think you have to put in the most effort to make this work.

“Then, what is it? I thought we were doing well, Toji.” The worried look on your face mixed with frustration as you took a step back from him, rubbing your face with your hands. “We are doing well, Y/N.” He was firm with his answer, and you know he’s telling the truth. But why? “We work so well together. But this isn’t the relationship we deserve.” He sighed.

“That doesn’t make sense, Toji.” You pursed your lips, emotions getting stronger. “If we work so well together, then how can you say that this isn’t what we deserve?” You sat on the bed, patiently waiting for an answer.

“We deserve to be in a relationship where we don’t have to remind ourselves how we should be constantly.” Toji mentally cursed himself for putting you in such a situation early in the morning but he doesn’t think he could sleep another peaceful night with everything in his mind.

“Relationships are things that flow naturally, Y/N. You do not do things just because you have to, or just because somebody told you to do it. You shouldn’t feel like you have to remind yourself what to do.” He breathed heavily, sounding as if he’d been practicing this in his head for a while now. “Is that how you feel with me?” You tried him, only to get the question back.

“Is that not how you feel with me?” Your silence answered his question. There was a pool of hot liquid in your eyes that you wouldn’t allow to fall. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Think of the strain that you’ve been putting on yourself, Y/N. Tell me you had not once thought of letting it all go even just for a second.”

A sob erupted from your throat; one that you didn’t see coming. It’s a thought you always choose to ignore because you really want to try hard for him, for this thing to work. Now, you understand when they say that sometimes it’s more painful to hold on than to let go.

As if getting burnt by holding on to a rope too tightly, hoping that the other end would stop pulling away.

But right now, Toji’s slowly being torn away from you. And you can’t do anything about this unbearable pain that feels like it could tear you apart; limb for limb. You realize that even if he doesn’t pull away, you’d still end up being hurt for this rope that you are holding on to is too far out of your reach.

“Toji… I don’t know, I thought I found something good with you. And now it just felt like I’m losing all of it like I’m losing—” Toji quickly shushed you, hugging you ever so tightly to him and it scared you. It almost felt like he was letting you memorize the comfort of his body against yours because this was the last time you’d be feeling it.

“You’re not losing me, love.” He consoled you and though, you can’t express it, the words brought you comfort. “I just don’t think we’re meant to be in this setup but that doesn’t mean you’re losing me.” And just like that, the pain was back again.

“Do I not deserve it?” You asked him, almost flinching at your words when you promised yourself you’d never ask anyone that. Toji sighed, taking both of your hands and bringing them to his lips. “Not this. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be genuinely happy without sacrificing anything, without feeling spent.”

You can’t remember, or more like you chose not to carve into your memory how that day ended. The only image you can see in your head is how he cuddled you to sleep, woke you up to eat with him and the kids, and went home. You remember him saying that they could always visit. And you hated yourself for doubting him.

“Mama, look it.” You heard your baby talking to you as she showed you the screen of your phone. It was Toji. It surprised you that you weren’t crying, or hurting as much as you thought you would. Maybe it’s because of the reassurance that you received from him.

And it’s not something like hoping that you’d be back together again but it’s more of a security that you didn’t just lose such a good man in your life; even as a friend. “Yeah?” You answered, pulling your toddler closer to you just as she started to move near the edge of the bed. “Just wanna know how you're doing.”

You chuckled, finding it funny that your now ex is calling you, indirectly checking if you’re still crying. It’s normal for him to expect that kind of thing but the difference between this and other breakups is that you actually ended on good terms and with valid reasons, seeking only the best for each other.

“I am a bit ok, surprisingly.” You answered, you heard a sigh from the other end of the line and a tiny laugh from Megumi, probably watching something on his iPad. You looked at your daughter, thinking if she’ll start looking for her little friend tomorrow and how you’re going to handle that.

“I’m sorry.” You rubbed your eyes, humming at his words. “This is for the best, I guess.” You spoke, remembering how you used to tell that to yourself when you found out that Satoru got himself a new girlfriend; throwing all his promises out the window and choosing to move forward away from you.

“You know Yui can still come over for play dates, right?” He spoke as if reading your mind. Toji knows of your concern about this matter as you expressed it earlier to him. Yui has spent a lot of time with Megumi and you know how she is with him because he’s her real first close friend.

“I won’t mind if she’ll be dropped off by Satoruf, he could even accompany her with you guys. I won’t mind, really. I know Megumi will ask for Yui.” He laughed lightly, patiently waiting for your answer, only to receive a hum.

“Y/N, you’re free to make decisions now—” You know that he’s talking about your reconciliation with Satoru but to be very honest, that’s not in your mind right now. You might be yearning for that whole family, and you can see Satoru’s progress but that doesn’t mean you can just bounce back like that.

“I don’t know, that’s not how I really feel, I think I should focus on building myself as an independent person for now.” You pursed your lips and you could just imagine him nodding his head to your words. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” You know that Yui needs her father, and you know that if she could talk to you right now, she’d probably wish for the two of you to be together with her.

But you want to know if this thing you’re feeling for Satoru is real or if it’s only because you longed to give your daughter that fulfillment. It’s not a bad thing to want that for her but you don’t know if you can handle another heartbreak for rushing things. “I’ll just let things be for now.” You added, sighing deeply.

The conversation with Toji went on for a couple of minutes before you said your goodbyes. You know it won’t be like this every night and that makes your chest squeeze but it’d only feel like forcing things if you asked him for that. You’ll move forward. Like you always do. Your child is growing and maybe it’s about time she learns something valuable from you.

—---------------------------------------

“Da!” The little girl squealed as her father entered your apartment. She got up and ran to him, almost tripping on one of her toys. “Careful. I’m not going away.” He picked her up, kissing her cheek. You closed the door behind you, rushing to kick away the things on the floor. It’s still a bit messy because you’re trying to get her ready for the day before you head to work.

“You’re early.” You spoke to him, watching them sit on the couch. “I’m…uh, cooking something. Have you had breakfast?” You bite your top lip as you turn away from them. “I had coffee.” Yui was trying to put a clip on his hair, laughing when she thought she got it done. “Come, eat with us, then.” You picked your daughter up, heading to the kitchen.

“Mama! ‘Gumi?” You put her in her chair, sighing lightly at the mention of her playmate. It has been almost three weeks and you still haven’t told Satoru about what happened with Toji and you. He’s not asking either, but you can tell he’s curious, eyeing you as he enters the small kitchen.

“He’s at daycare. Maybe next week, when Mama’s not busy, alright?” You spoke, placing the food in front of her, and pressing on the plate to make sure that it was stuck on the surface. “Haven’t seen them around.” Satoru cleared his throat, playing it cool as he didn’t want to seem like he was intruding into your “love life.”

“They, uh, they won’t be around so much anymore.” You put the plates on the table, tucking a hair behind your ear as you turned. Satoru pursed his lips, not wanting to pry any longer but the next sentence made his eyebrows raise. “We kinda…Toji and I broke up. So, if not for the kids, we won’t-“

“Since when?” If it was before Satoru would probably be thinking about how this is a chance for him but right now, as he sat on that kitchen table, all he could feel was worry. He thinks that you really love Toji and he became your rock during the times when your baby daddy’s acting up.

“Almost three weeks ago. It’s, uh, nothing too heavy. The relationship just became too much.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right for him to say “sorry.” He’s scared that it might break you and he doesn’t want to see you cry again.

He made you cry many times and he hated himself for it. He can’t help but feel like any anger he might harbor towards Toji would be… invalid. “I didn't think dating when you both already have kids would be so different than when you don’t.” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“We just don’t think it could stand in the long run, so…” You shrugged, finally sitting down after you placed the glass pitcher on the table. You peeked at Satoru, attempting to read the expression on his face.

“Look, I know Yui’s always been our priority but if you need a bit of time for yourself, you know you can leave Yui with me.” He cracked his knuckles, not sure of how to help you with this. “You should take a break from work, if you think that’s what you need, I will-“ You placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

There’s not much he can offer that wouldn’t make it look like he’s trying to take advantage of the situation. That’s the last thing he wants you to think. He thought you were a bit gloomy during the past couple of weeks and assumed it was just a lover’s quarrel or something.

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You let out a laugh, retracting your hand away as you reached for the towel to wipe your daughter’s food-stained cheek. “Megumi and Yui still play together, I mean they’re besties now, right?” Yui giggled at the mention of her friend.

“That’s nice, he’s her first friend.” Satoru smiled genuinely. Aside from Yui’s occasional babbles, Satoru and you ate in silence. Eating together at your home is beginning to become a normal, regular thing now. And for some reason, it doesn’t worry you anymore.

Getting Yui ready took a bit more time than it should have when she wanted her Dad to pick her clothes. Of course, none of you could say no. You quickly brought out your phone to take a photo of her and her father, holding hands as they stood before the clothes she took out of her drawer.

“It’s chilly. You can’t wear that.” You commented on the shirt she brought out. With a pout on her lips, she continued to pull on her clothes. “We’ll pair it with something. Yeah?” Satoru consoled her, earning a smile from the little girl. “I’ll make the two of you fold all of that.” You joked before turning to pick up a few scattered clothes.

You checked her bag one last time, counting all the things she needed in your mind. You can hear her laughing as Satoru struggles to put on her boots. She is the happiest when he’s in the house. You fear that she’ll soon start asking about why her father lives in a different house, unlike most kids.

“You don’t have to worry so much if she left something. We’ll probably be here tomorrow, you know how she is.” Satoru laughed, lifting the child. It’s true that even during the days when she’s supposed to be with her dad, she still asks him to see you. There was one time when they showed up at your work and everybody thought that you’re back together.

“It could be something important.” You sighed, leaning in to give your daughter a kiss. “Be good.” She nodded her head, wiggling her brows in the process, knowing that it never fails to make you laugh. Satoru can’t help but stare, statued by how close you are to each other; paralyzed by the fact that this could’ve been better if he never did what he did.

“Don’t forget the face creams at night, please.” You reminded him, stepping away as you locked eyes. “Of course.” He took the bag, walking towards the door with you trailing closely behind them. “Buh-bye!” She waved at you from her car seat. You watched as Satoru made sure it was locked before closing the door behind him.

“See you in a few days, Mama.” He spoke playfully, and you know that he’s just trying to say it for your daughter but it made your heart swell for some reason, a blush forcing its way to your cheek. This has been happening a lot with him, even when you were still with Toji. You tried to convince yourself that you were just “caught off guard.”

Work kept you busy for the whole day. It wasn’t long until you found yourself on your couch, smiling at the video Satoru sent you. Yui was holding an elephant bowl full of ice cream, focused on the movie playing on the screen. Their matching lilac pajamas made everything more adorable. After sending a reply, you put your phone down.

Days and weeks went by fast. Megumi and Yui played at the park together last week. You thought it’d be awkward but it was pretty much the same with Toji minus the intimacy. He was still chill to be with and he was still very caring towards you. And you admired him for all of it.

“I ran into them at the mall once. I think they went toy shopping.” He spoke, looking over at the kids as they struggled to understand how to make the seesaw work on their own. “Oh yeah, he mentioned that one time.” You replied, before giving a warning to your daughter who’s now so ready to climb the metal board.

Your mind went back to the image of Satoru coming in with boxes and bags, and a little kid trailing behind him, holding on to the hem of his jacket. He couldn’t even carry her because of everything but she was overjoyed, showing off her new stuff.

“You can’t leave all that here. Her room isn’t big, Satoru.” You sighed, picking your daughter up, “You already have so many toys.” You reminded her but she wasn’t listening at all. “It’s alright, I’ll bring them to my house,” Satoru spoke as he put them on the couch.

Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever save up enough to get a bigger space for you and Yui. Satoru once brought it up, offering help but you don’t want that. You’re not together, so to you, being able to provide and improve on your own for your daughter is a goal. You trust that things’ll get better for you, even if you’re alone.

“You two working it out?” Toji's voice brought you out of your memory. You looked at him for a couple of seconds, and he just stared back at you, like he just asked the most normal question an ex could ask. “N-no. He’s not even trying, I mean he never even explicitly tried to show any hint. I doubt that any of us are thinking about that right now.” You rambled and he just nodded.

You didn’t mean to blurt out something like that so casually. But in all honesty, that made you more comfortable and less tense about all of this. He doesn’t make you feel awkward at all. He doesn’t make you feel like you’re stuck in your past with him. It’s almost as if he’s just been a friend, a very close one, all this time.

There was a moment of easy silence between the two of you. You can only hear the noises from the other kids and the two in front of you. But it wasn’t long until it was broken by Toji. “He loves you, you know?” You feel like even the sound of your breaths paused. “I’m not saying that you should force yourself to try again with him. I just want you to know that Satoru genuinely loves you.”

Thinking about it now, you realize that you and Toji never really talked like this about your relationship with Satoru before. It’s always just the problems and the past that you always claimed to be only bitter memories now.

Toji leaned back on the chair, not caring if you were answering or not. He’s good at sensing the atmosphere, and you’re not in a way bothered by the topic. You were surprised to hear it from him, of course, but you don’t feel troubled at all.

“Satoru and I had a talk once, just the two of us. I was expecting less from him due to how he treated you before.” He crossed his arms on his chest, eyes wandering as he recalled, “But he was so sure with his words, I was kind of taken aback.” He chuckled, and you wondered what his exact words were.

“No offense, but I feel like that was the only time I really looked at him as a man; a grown man.” He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I know 'cause I’ve been there.” He nodded, sounding softer and you just know who he’s thinking about. “The resolve; the determination in him even when he knows that it’s impossible.”

“He has to work on a lot of things. He’s got so much to reflect on.” You sighed, unsure of how to react, not because you rejected the information but because it got your heart drumming in your chest. “We gotta grow as individuals. And if we’re meant to be together, it’s…it’ll happen on its own.” You chuckled, swallowing dryly.

You don’t know if that scares you or excites you for the future. But you know that it’s gonna be so much better than before.

—---------------------------------------

6 Months Later

“Mama why? Mama why?” You heard Satoru laugh loudly at your daughter's words. She’s been repeating the same words over and over since you started getting her ready. Her hair was up extra nice today and she’s staring at her gown hanging near the dresser.

“Mama whats go on? Huh, Mama?” She asked again, sending Satoru into another fit of laughter. “Baby, I’ve been saying. It’s Yui Day today. Your birthday.” You smiled at her kindly, securing the cute hair clips on her head. “I don’t think she’s fully taken any of this in.” Satoru sat on her bed, looking at the two of you.

Her grandfather volunteered to take care of the preparations at Satoru’s house. The helpers arrived early in the morning and Satoru left him there to pick the two of you up and to help get his little girl ready. You’re still in your house clothes and you’re not even a step closer to being ready.

“Go take a shower, I got her.” Satoru arrived just as you were fixing Yui’s hair. “Okay, the shoes are over there. Put the headband on after the dress so it won’t mess up her hair.” You reminded him as you stood up. “Yes, Ma’am.” The little girl jumped towards him pointing at her dress. You stepped out and got ready as quickly as you can.

You were supposed to wear the dress you bought the other week. It wasn’t much and you were worried that it might not look that good, especially with the guests that will come over. You didn’t want to look cheap but you wanted to save so you went for something that goes in the middle.

To your surprise, when Satoru brought Yui’s gown and shoes, he got another set with him. You thought it was for some outfit change but he soon revealed, albeit shyly, that he thought the dress matched the theme of your daughter’s party so he got it for you. It was a designer dress and a pair of shoes.

“I’d…I’ll pay for this, alright? I can’t just—” He cut you off with a close-lipped smile and a gentle sight. “Y/N, I know it’s hard to accept this but I already had lots of shortcomings with you and Yui. This doesn’t mean anything, don’t worry. I’m not trying to, you know, I just want you to feel your best during our daughter’s birthday.” He spoke, nervousness still clear in his voice.

“B-but you’re free to decline it if you don’t feel comfortable, sorry, I can take it back to the—” This time you cut him off with a laugh, “I’m sorry this is just so… expensive. I don’t know how to feel if I just openly accept it from you.” You placed the box on the table behind you, sitting down in hopes of changing the atmosphere.

“Okay, then…just consider this as a gift since I, uh, failed to get you one on your last birthday.” He breathed out the last part as if it was a heavy feeling in his chest that he couldn’t push past his lips. It isn’t as heavy as it was to you though.

Your last birthday was painful to remember, probably the worst one you had ever since you were born even if you never had a big celebration your whole life aside from when you were with Satoru. Last year, your birthday was on the same day as Satoru’s co-parenting schedule.

That time you were hoping that he and Yui would celebrate it with you. But that morning, he came in with Naomi. With hickeys peeking from his jacket, messy hair, and swollen lips, they picked Yui up. You remember your daughter babbling about “Mama day” in a much less understood baby talk that Naomi still caught.

“Oh, is it your birthday? She said ‘mama day’, right?” Her bright eyes shined at you, dimples showing as she smiled but it didn’t lessen the ache in your chest. “Oh, sorry. Happy birthday.” Satoru spoke, proceeding to take his daughter’s belongings. “We should’ve picked Yui up in the afternoon so, they could spend time together.” She suggested, laughing awkwardly.

“What time did you book the Children’s Museum trip?” Satoru halted, his back turned to you. You were about to interrupt, afraid that you were starting to look too pitiful for the lovebirds in front of you and your child. “It starts at 10:00.” She spoke, adjusting the toddler on her hip. “It’s 9:19.” Satoru read his watch, biting his lips with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“We can’t really leave her now, the Children’s Museum isn’t open every day. You can…uh—” He tried to think, turning to you but you can’t take it anymore. “N-no. It’s alright. You—Yui have fun, baby, alright? We’ll go out when you’re back home.” You waved at the child and her smile soothed you. Almost.

“Happy birthday, Y/N, sorry.” Naomi smiled, avoiding your eyes and you hated it. You hated that she felt sorry for you. You hated that they felt sorry for you. “Enjoy your day.” She added, turning around as she urged your daughter to wave again. “We’ll get going, sorry again. Happy birthday.” He spoke lowly, earning a fake smile and a nod from you.

You closed the door before you could even see him put his hand on her waist and guide them to his car. It was supposed to be. That should be the three of you. You wiped the stray tear that fell from your eyes with the back of your hand. That day, you stayed at home, slept until your mother came and brought food, and refused to tell her the story.

That night you stayed awake, wondering how many falls a heart can take before it turns to dust, never to be recovered again.

“Done?” Satoru’s voice brought you back to reality. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the door in the mirror. You were about to respond when the door burst open, and your child trudged in, almost falling as she squealed. “Mama! Pretty Mama!” She pulled at her skirt, turning. “Wow, lovely. You’re so beautiful, baby!” You cooed at her as she hugged your robe-covered waist.

“Dada put this. Dada! This!” You can tell how excited she is by how she shows off everything; from her headband to her anklets and shoes. She even shows it to her father even if he’s the one who dressed her up. You chuckled in amusement, all the pain numbed as your eyes focused on the present.

You looked over at Satoru who tries to look everywhere but you. Your hair’s still wet from the shower, and you’re still in your robe, all bare underneath and you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that. “You’re so pretty, how about we take pictures downstairs? Or with your toys?” He tried to convince her, wanting to give you time to dress up.

“Mama come!” She pulls at you, “Mama has to wear her pretty dress too, so you’ll be twins.” Satoru quickly picked her up, smiling at you as her daughter babbled excitedly, allowing him to distract her as he closed the door behind them. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror once more, drying your hair quietly.

Thinking back on what Toji said, you can’t just believe them after everything Satoru has done.

—---------------------------------------

You can feel Satoru’s light touch as the three of you pose for the final picture of the day before the party ends. It has been such a long day. Yui happily walked around, clapping at the guests when they sang her a birthday song; quite the opposite of what you thought would happen. You and Satoru received a lot of statements and questions as you were greeting the visitors too.

“Oh, you’re back together again, that’s great!” His aunt said to which he quickly answered with a chuckle, “I’d love that, but no.” You smiled at the old lady, thankful for the understanding face rather than pushing.

“I knew you’d be back to Y/N!” His cousin winked at you, raising a fist bump which you couldn’t really reject. Satoru nodded his head, glancing at you awkwardly at how loud the man was being “When did you guys get back together?” He elbowed him like he was so sure of the information.

“We’re not…really back together. We’re…This is co-parenting.” Satoru took Yui from you. “Say hi.” And that’s how he changed that topic. He met Yui once when she was a baby and to say that he was mesmerized by how much she looked like Satoru now is an understatement. “How did you manage to turn yourself into a little girl.” He and Satoru laughed and you excused yourself to greet some of your relatives who attended.

“I would be mad but, oh well, anything that makes that little doll happy.” Your grandma sighed, smiling as she hugged you. “We’re not back together. I’ll bring her here in a bit.” You muttered, pulling at your dress. “That’s a nice dress you have, it looks expensive, honey.” Your mother complimented.

“Yeah, Satoru got it…f-for me. So, uh, we could match the theme. He organized this.” You smiled nervously, worried at how her eyebrows raised. “I’ll be back, Mom.” You added with a little wave before going back to Satoru and Yui who were now looking at you in distress as she got taken by Satoru’s friend.

“Don’t take him back.” was Shoko’s first words to you as you reached them, making the whole table and you laugh. “Stop it.” Satoru grunted, “Give me my kid back if you’re going to be like that.” He rolled his eyes playfully before meeting yours. “He’s still far from that.” You replied, making them laugh again. Satoru knows that you aren’t joking at all.

It’s funny how the people around you have different views regarding reconciliation with him. And you, you don’t want to think of it. Or more like you’re scared to think of it.

Because you fear that deep in your heart, you still yearn for all of it.

“Yui!” A voice called and when you turned around it was Megumi in his cut little outfit that almost matched Yui’s dress. “Oh gosh, you’re so cute ‘Gumi!” You cooed, hugging the little boy. He would look down at his shirt and back at you as if to show it off. Your eyes wandered around for Toji and you found him speaking to your Mother. You smiled as he waved at you.

“I didn’t see you guys come in.” You spoke as you got close to them. “Sorry, we’re a bit late. He wanted to get another gift.” Toji laughed, nodding at Megumi’s direction who was now walking towards your table with Satoru and Yui. “Thanks for coming.” Satoru encouraged, a little awkwardly.

“Megumi wouldn’t miss his best friend’s birthday.” Toji reached over to fix his son's clothes. You stayed for a bit to talk with Toji and your mom, Satoru took the kids to the photo booth to play with the other kids at the party.

And now you’re walking the last few of the helpers out the door, thanking them for the smooth flow of the event. Yui already fell asleep on Satoru’s shoulder, just like her little friend. Toji went home with a sleepy Megumi who refused to get carried by his dad and insisted on walking despite the constant stumbling.

Thanking Satoru’s Dad before he heads home, he gives the two of you a piece of advice: “I hope you two are not thinking too much of what to do with what you have.” You both didn’t know what to say. You don’t even get it at first but when he spoke again, it all made sense.

“It will happen if it’s meant to happen. Like before. When you were blessed with this angel.” He softly stroked Yui’s cheek, chuckling when her nose twitched. “Well, that’s all. You’re both doing just great. Satoru, stop worrying about the things with your mom. Leave that to me.” With that, he bid goodbye and left.

You had to stop yourself from being too curious about what happened with Satoru and his mother. All that you know is that he broke up with Naomi and you thought that she probably tried to stop him, of course. What’s bugging you is the fact that his father had to comfort him about it. Would it be too much to ask?

“Let’s go inside.” He ushered, adjusting his daughter in his arms and patting her head as she wiggled a little before going back to sleep. “I’m glad we hired helpers. I don’t think I can handle cleaning after all of that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the couch. “I don’t know how celebrities do meet and greets. I feel so drained.” You agreed sitting down on the loveseat.

“I can’t believe she’s three now. It’s like she was still so tiny a few months ago.” His whispers were low; gentle. You could hear all the love in his voice and the tired yet contented look on his face as he gazed lovingly at his child. She could be getting a sibling now, but you fucked around. You caught yourself thinking, biting your lip at the realization of how silly you’re being.

After a short conversation, Satoru decided to put her in her bed. You’re sure that she’ll be awake in an hour or two. You agreed to stay the night here since you considered that Yui might want to open her gifts by the end of the party. She already opened some earlier due to curiosity but got distracted multiple times and ended up forgetting about them.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered, rummaging through the baby bag with her feet on your lap. You were trying to clean her a little but you ran out of wipes and you forgot to put the extra pack due to the rush this early morning. You carefully placed her feet down to get up and find Satoru. You saw him in his front yard, putting away some things that had been used earlier.

“Does she have wet wipes here? The one in her bag ran out.” You asked him, stepping out of the house. “Yeah, it’s in my bedside drawer, do you mind getting it?” He spoke, carrying a foldable table to the other end of the yard, “Okay.” You found his bedroom door ajar and let yourself in.

Did he specify which one? There are two bedside tables. You went to the closest one, opening the first drawer. You knew you were looking for the wipes and that’s why you came here, you mentally noted that anything in here does not concern you and thus, must not be meddled with.

But right now you’re staring at the brown envelope with a hospital address and a name with the “MD, OB-GYN” title plastered on it. You don’t have to have a degree to understand that. You can feel your heart slowly picking up a pace as you think of all the possible meanings of it.

Was Naomi pregnant and they decided to abort it? Did Satoru make her do it? What if he made her do it because of the fact that he still wants to be with you? You can’t really do anything if that’s why but it makes you feel…accountable. Is this why they broke up on bad terms that even his mother doesn’t want to see him anymore?

The envelope was staring back at you and you can’t help but feel like touching it; opening it. You can get your answer right now if you just read what’s inside this quickly. You won’t have to think about all of this anymore. The voice in your head silenced the approaching footsteps and the sound of Satoru’s voice calling your name.

A shadow was cast upon you and the paper. You looked up to see Satoru staring at the envelope with slightly wide eyes. He quickly closed the cabinet, swallowing as he avoided your eyes. “Sorry, I forgot to mention.” He moved away to get the wipes from the other drawer. “It-it’s here.” He walked quickly, urging you to get moving. “Let’s go before she wakes up—”

“What was that, Satoru?” You don’t care how this made you sound as you grabbed his arm preventing him from leaving the room. He wouldn’t have reacted that way; he wouldn’t have disregarded the matter if it wasn’t something to be hidden. Why did he look so alarmed that you saw it? Like you’re not supposed to know about it.

“It was an old test, I forgot to throw it away.” He rasped, staring at your lips; staring everywhere but your eyes. “I know how to read. The date it was delivered shouldn’t be far from the day the test was done, right?” You half blinked, breathing in as you told yourself to calm down. You don’t know how you’d feel if he told you that’s none of your business.

“Was Naomi pregnant when you broke up with her?” Your voice was a bit more steady, “No.” He sounded small and you could tell that whatever was going on inside his head wasn’t easy to verbalize. “Then, what’s there to hide about it?” You don’t need him to tell you, you could tell that you weren’t supposed to see that.

“I fear that I might be getting a little too overconfident about your feelings for me but—” You lowered your eyes, embarrassed at how that sounded and a bit thankful for being cut off. “She was never pregnant. Sh-she tried…while I was intoxicated. I got her examined.” Satoru rambled, obviously triggered by your words.

“She what?” You looked at him, brows furrowed and eyes wide, finding it hard to believe the assumption in your head. “I got drunk. She…she tried to…” He walked towards that drawer, pulling out the envelope and the paper inside.

“Y/N, read it. I couldn't… I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to vent about this to you because that’s all I’ve been doing, I just want to give you all the good now. I’ll try, Y/N, I promise.” At this point, you don’t even know what he’s trying to explain to you but the welling tears in his eyes and the coldness of his fingers against your skin was enough to pull you to him.

The papers were dropped to the floor as you held him to you. His head was bowed down as he cried on your shoulder as if this was the first day he was allowed to cry about this; as if this was the first time he could hold on to someone while the fear, anger, and shame tore him to pieces.

He held onto you as he sobbed his heart out after holding it all in for so long.

He doesn’t deserve this. No matter what he did or said, Satoru doesn’t deserve this. After everything, you can see how much he’s trying. Despite not being promised anything, he’s giving his all. It wouldn’t be easy to forget and it won’t be easy to trust. But the love you feel for this man comes too naturally to be contained.

“You didn’t deserve that…” You hushed him, hearing him blame himself was shattering. Does his mother know? Why did she disappear as well? What really happened? “Satoru, what happened with your Mom?” His breath hitches. The grown man in the room is now in the form of a child, looking for a hand to hold.

“She knew about it.” His cheeks were wet and his eyes bloodshot as he looked up, running his fingers through his hair. You thought there was something wrong that day. But you didn’t think it could be this bad. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to ruin this day, this is our baby girl’s day, I shouldn’t have-“

“Satoru, don’t talk like that. That’s beyond your control.” His breaths were shaky. You doubt that even his closest friends knew about this. “My dad and I placed a restraining order against them. I can’t look at those people the same way anymore.” His eyes were closed as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what you’d feel or think if you accidentally found out…like now. I should’ve explained earlier.” He was referring to your assumptions earlier. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You don’t know how long the two of you were staring into each other’s eyes but a voice took you out of the little world that you share.

“Mama…” A cute, sleepy voice called out from outside of the bedroom. “I’ll get her. Calm your mind, Satoru. It’s over. We’re here.” You have no idea how big of an impact those words had on Satoru. He almost wanted to cry again, to pull you close and cry to you again.

To see your back walking out of this bedroom door, but this time with the promise of being on the other side, waiting.

He sat there for a few more minutes, releasing all the heaviness in his chest before getting up to wash his face. Leaning on the doorframe of his daughter’s room, he saw you putting on her little sweaters as you sat barefoot on the floor. “Gumi sing me.” The child spoke with enthusiasm. “He did? What did he sing?” You encouraged, fixing her clothes.

“Can you sing me a song too?” He interrupted, walking in to sit down with you. It was all it took for Satoru to forget what happened earlier. Eating at home with the two of you always feels like an answered prayer. After that, you helped the child open her gifts until way past her sleeping hours.

Walking you to the guest room felt like the first time you lived together; awkward yet heartwarming. Of course, no boundaries were crossed. He wouldn’t try. And you won’t allow it. At least he got to wish you a good night and sweet dreams again.

—---------------------------------------

Days, weeks, and months went by fast. It’s already been 4 months since Yui’s birthday and now you’re walking with her and Satoru at a grocery store. “Yui, this is for the stuff we will buy, this is not a stroller.” You explained as she tried to get Satoru to put her in the pushcart.

He wasn’t supposed to be with you here but it’s Yui’s pick-up day and you decided that you need to get some stuff. Satoru asked if he and Yui could join you since he doesn’t have anything planned except for an early movie night with his little girl. “You’re not a little baby anymore.” She hit Satoru’s chest as he pouted teasingly at her.

“Hey. We don’t hit.” You talked to her sternly, making her put her head on her father’s chest, whispering an almost inaudible apology. “Satoru, do not let her hit you, she’ll get used to doing that.” You reminded him, knowing that he can’t ever scold his baby girl.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied absentmindedly, bouncing the kid in his arms to get her to laugh. These days, you’ve been getting comfortable with things like this. You’ve been getting comfortable with compliments like “Oh you make cute babies” from old people who take a liking to your daughter.

You’ve been getting comfortable with Satoru pushing the cart for you as you look for what you need, reaching for the items on the top shelf, carrying your bags for you, and driving you home as you sit in the passenger seat.

Like right now.

“Her sleeping schedule got a lot better when she changed her vitamins, yeah?” You responded to Satoru with a hum as you chewed on your fries, handing a piece to your daughter as she kicked on her car seat. “Her doctor recommended that. I’m glad it works, she used to get up so early.” The car stopped in front of your apartment.

“Would you like to stay? I’ll be cooking.” You won’t deny that this isn’t the first time you asked, “I’d love to stay.” And this isn’t the first time he agreed. You don’t know why but you didn’t budge from the passenger seat, knowing that Satoru was rushing to open the door for you. You went to your baby and took her inside, not worrying about your things and the groceries you bought.

You can’t remember the last time it felt awkward with Satoru lying on your couch with your daughter. You also can’t remember how he had a pair of spare house slippers for him here. Walking past the fridge, you saw a photo of Yui and Megumi from their recent pool party.

Satoru came to pick you and Yui up but you ended up staying for another hour. You can’t remember when Toji and Satoru shed a noticeable amount of awkwardness around them. At one point, you even heard them talking about business like they didn’t try to rip each other’s heads off when they first met.

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

“Where’s her choccy-juice?” Satoru mimicked Yui’s words, laughing. “I told her we were about to eat in a few minutes but she won’t listen.” Taking the chocolate milk from the fridge, he stood beside you to fulfill his daughter’s request. “She’s not supposed to have a lot of that.” You sighed, “I’ll just let her have a taste so she’ll stop.” His voice sounded so much softer now.

“Dada!” She came running to the kitchen, holding onto Satoru’s leg as she tried to have a peek at what you were cooking. “Wanna see? Here’s your choccy.” He lifted her, letting her hold the sippy cup as they watched you cook. “Hmm…” Both you and Satoru can’t help but laugh at her reaction.

You don’t know if it’s because a lot of things happened but they all feel like distant memories; some of which you can’t even clearly see in the back of your mind. Satoru felt like a new man and along with this, the pain of your past continuously fades away each time you see his face.

You don’t want to name the feeling yet but, you know that all that’s meant to happen will happen.

Like it did when you had Yui. Like it did when you got sundered. Like it did when you tried with different people. Like it does now, as you slowly, steadily fall back together.

PREV | ALT. Ending

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neo-nomatrix · 11 months

Text

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

#spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader smut #spiderman atsv #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #marvel x reader #spiderman #spiderman x y/n

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bluebeary-jay · 8 months

Text

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t��”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

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itostea · 4 months

Text

my first & last love (gojo x reader)

satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru

tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst

word count: 11k

The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song.

It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did).

Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.

It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing.

You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it.

For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time.

“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat.

“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.

His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.

“--I like Getou and I need your help.”

“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”

He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”

It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”

“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”

Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again.

You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.

“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool.

“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself.

“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”

Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”

You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”

“I do.” He says quickly.

You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”

“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”

Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.

Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why.

“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty?

Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”

“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”

I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it. It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own.

Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”

“Uh the goodness of your heart?”

“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”

“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!”

He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”

“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.”

“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, I mean it.”

Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”

He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead.

Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning.

He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification.

(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come

Him: come ??? cum

(Name): it’s too early to be doing this

He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan

(Name): SATORU

(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS

Him: WHAT

Him: HELLO???

(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA

(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME

(Name): WHAT DO I DO?

Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.

Him: say hi back

Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly

(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn

(Name): jk he just said bye :(

Him: should’ve done what i told u to do

Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.

Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?

Him: yeah why

Suguru: Nothing

It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.

His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop.

Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again.

Suguru: She’s cute

Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.

Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it.

You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake.

The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.

Gojo: omw to ur house

Gojo: ill be there in 10

You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear

Gojo: …

Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?

You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY?

You: so i need ur opinion

Gojo: dude

Gojo: ok

Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine

You: yeah but what specifically?

Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma

Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party

Gojo: no offense

You: but i liked that dress :((((

You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways

Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way

You: wow okay thanks

Gojo: you looked nice

Gojo: ANYWAYS

Gojo: a pair of jeans

Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders

You: really?

Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up

You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day.

You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off.

Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”

“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you.

“Atta girl.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.

On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it.

“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode.

“Game plan?”

“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”

“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light.

“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”

At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.”

Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party.

You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!”

“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.

“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”

“You’re not–”

“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”

“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you.

For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”

“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”

“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”

You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?”

“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”

“Suguru.”

You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”

“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago.

You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.

Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?”

Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.”

“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom.

The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.

The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit.

You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders.

“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”

You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?”

“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”

In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it.

Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.

You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”

A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like when you compliment me.”

“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”

The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne.

And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well.

Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?

But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week.

Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on.

If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.

What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another.

You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts.

“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie.

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was.

Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache.

Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air.

Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid.

If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you.

No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.

He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking.

His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else.

He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”

“Satoru?”

Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers.

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it.

“What’s up Satoru–?”

“Party’s off.”

“What? Wait what are you–”

“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand.

You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less.

The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.

“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.

You only nod. “I want to go home.”

“Yeah I can take you back–”

“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”

For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”

“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace.

You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”

This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”

You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”

“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”

“Today?”

“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”

“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”

You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”

“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”

Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you.

His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind.

“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”

“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa.

“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.

“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”

“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”

“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”

“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs.

You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”

This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”

You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”

“Are you?”

“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”

He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”

“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?”

“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”

He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru.

His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”

“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes.

“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face.

“Satoru–”

The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more.

“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”

As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you.

“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”

Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”

“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”

You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back.

If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.

He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you.

At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that.

So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?

You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date.

Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.

“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here.

“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be.

It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”

“What?”

“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”

This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.

“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”

When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”

Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”

This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”

“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”

You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”

You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.

“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something.

“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”

Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”

Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”

“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”

“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”

“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”

“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”

You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.”

His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”

“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”

You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”

“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru.

You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—

The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“

“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”

You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”

She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone.

You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“

“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.”

“What? But you just got here—“

“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave.

Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“

“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.”

You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear.

By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”

“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light.

“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”

After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing.

Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?

No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you.

Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it.

The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace.

You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile.

“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.

Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name.

“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes.

“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs.

You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in.

You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”

You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you.

“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth.

He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”

“I–”

“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”

“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder.

“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship.

“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”

“(Name)...”

“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this.

Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed.

He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on.

Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru.

That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind.

When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him.

You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him.

Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms?

He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this.

If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.

You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”

“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”

“I’m not–”

“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”

You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”

You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”

You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”

He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”

At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”

“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”

You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”

“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”

You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”

“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal.

“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”

The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck.

You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?”

When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #fluff #angst #satoru x reader #satoru x you

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quin-ns · 1 year

Text

Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his

Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun

A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…

Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist

After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.

What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?

Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.

You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.

You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.

If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.

Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.

Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.

You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—

“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.

You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.

“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”

You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”

Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.

“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.

“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.

“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”

“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.

It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”

Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.

“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.

The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.

“If you’re against sharing with me.”

So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.

“I’m not.”

All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.

“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”

You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”

“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”

“For you maybe.”

“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”

The sudden apology confused you. “What?”

“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”

His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.

“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”

“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.

“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”

“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”

A wave of realization crashed over you.

You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.

“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.

“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.

Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.

“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.

There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.

Not that you minded.

His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner

Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.

But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.

“You need sleep,” he reminded you.

Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…

So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.

“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #ellie williams

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landososcar · 3 months

Text

lover ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader

summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea

warnings ; smau, lots of fluff

note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all

instagram ; yourusername

liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️

view all comments

user1 who are you

carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly

yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron

nando4lorris you two aren’t slick

yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris

nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf

user2 i’m so lost 😭😭

user3 i’m confused someone explain

user4 babe everyone’s confused

user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not

user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck

user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before

user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho

user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments

nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend

yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭

user10 ????????

instagram ; yourusername

liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others

yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡

view all comments

user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)

yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁

user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT

user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️

user4 i have so much to say

user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN

user6 i think i would die for her

nando4lorris 🧡🧡

yourusername 🥰

carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky

yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky

user7 oh it’s so lando

carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew

user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????

instagram ; landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others

landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁

view all comments

user1 oh my god

user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(

carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time

yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close

user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD

maxverstappen1 finally mate

oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳

user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick

user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background

ciscanorris1 💓💓

yourusername love you🥰

user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain

user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do

yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡

landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰

yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far

landonorris no sorry you’re right

user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>

user9 i need them biblically

user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo

user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour

yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰

user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER

liked by landonorris!

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voguesriot · 3 months

Text

DON’T HURT YOURSELF ✹ luke castellan

( summary ) social media au where your boyfriend became the asshole everyone warned you he’d be and now you’re looking for revenge (& luke is a down bad loser w no game)

( pairings ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader

DIRECT MESSAGES

sarahdawson: hey girly ik we’re not like close or anything but something happened last night that i need to tell you about

sarahdawson: so i was getting strawberries yesterday and max was there and he was being really weird and like flirty and i’m so sorry i feel like such a horrible person even though i turned him down right away but he tried to kiss me and i hit him and then i went back to my cabin but i had to tell you

sarahdawson: i’m so sorry

yourusername: THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE I KNEW HE WASNT WORTH SHIT

yourusername: this is clarisse btw i took her phone

yourusername: (me again) thank you for telling me sarah it rlly means a lot 🫶

sarahdawson: if it makes any difference you’re way too hot for him and literally anything you need (even rigging archery lessons so the new kids take shots just as he’s walking by), i’m your girl x

♫ Don’t Hurt Yourself by Beyoncé feat. Jack White

♡ liked by silenabeauregard , connorstroll , and others

yourusername love god herself (love u mama) 💋

sarahdawson AHHH YOURE SO PRETTY

yourusername THANK YOU GORGEOUS 🥹🥹

clarisselarue too good for anyone 😮‍💨

silenabeauregard prettiest girl everrrr

chrisrodriguez pur girlie

yourusername what.

chrisrodriguez gods forbid a man expresses an ounce of girlish whimsy

yourusername nooo queen i appreciate you thank you

seaweedbrain you ate ‼️‼️‼️

seaweedbrain ate my dessert*

seaweedbrain it’s all fun and games until you end up stealing from the youth

seaweedbrain count your days miss counsellor

yourusername my girl sally should’ve kept you on a leash for a bit longer because you are rabid my love

seaweedbrain I WAS NEVER ON A LEASH WTF

racheledare STUNNA GIRL STUNNA GIRL I CHOOSE U BABY OVER A HUNDRED GIRLS

yourusername ME AND U 4EVERR 🙏🙏

lukecastellan nice dress!!

this comment was deleted.

clarisselarue lukecastellan i saw that.

lukecastellan why are you so ominous

clarisselarue why are you such a loser

lukecastellan have you ever been chill for a day in your life

clarisselarue have you ever known the loving touch of a woman

chrisrodriguez FOUL 😭😭😭

♫ Feather by Sabrina Carpenter

♡ liked by drewtanaka , pipermclean , and others

[ tagged: yourusername , clarisselarue , silenabeauregard , drewtanaka , hazellevesque , pipermclean ]

sarahdawson girls night w my favs 💘

silenabeauregard APOLLO CABIN 🔛🔝

yourusername FORREALLL

yourusername best night i’ve had in a long time i love u all sm ☹️🫶 ( liked by sarahdawson , clarisselarue , silenabeauregard , drewtanaka , hazellevesque , pipermclean )

silenabeauregard MY GIRLSSSSS

wisegirll prettiest girls in the world 💕💕

clarisselarue sarah girl love ya but maybe leave the singing to ur siblings 🙏

sarahdawson RUDE

yourusername sarahdawson dw baby i loved our duet xx

sarahdawson we simply are destiny’s child

drewtanaka yk who is shaking in his boots

seaweedbrain oh yeah cool i didn’t even want an invite it’s totally chill

yourusername calm down lil guy maybe when you’re older

clarisselarue if zeus doesn’t smite his ass before he gets the chance 😭

seaweedbrain clarisselarue I BEAT YOUR DADS ASS HES LITERALLY A DEADBEAT DADDY

wisegirll too far

seaweedbrain sorry clarisse

lukecastellan yourusername we could hear you singing all the way in hermes ☠️

yourusername NO THATS SO EMBARRASSING WHICH SONG

lukecastellan i think it was never lose me or smth

clarisselarue bros acting like he hasn’t been thinking ab it nonstop

yourusername lukecastellan i’m so sorry for any pain i’ve caused

chrisrodriguez AYY BRO MAKING MOVES

groverunderwood you call those moves? 😭

chrisrodriguez baby steps are still steps let me celebrate my guy in peace 😔

♫ Heartless by The Weeknd

♡ liked by connorstroll , and others

maxwalsh never been better

clarisselarue oh that’s not ☠️

lukecastellan this what you’ve been doing instead of coming to sparring?

maxwalsh it’s a better challenge

drewtanaka THE CLAWS ARE OUT MEOW

yourusername just posted to their story!

DIRECT MESSAGES

lukecastellan: you look really pretty

#luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #camp half blood x reader

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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

Text

rubber duck

in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!

Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.

He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly.

“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?”

Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.”

Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition.

“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?”

“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.”

This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.

“How long have you been asleep?”

“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented.

“10:20.”

“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep. "I didn't mean to-"

“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.”

Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.

“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?”

He laughs, running a hand through your hair.

“I don’t even know where you got that number.”

“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow.

“Honey, that’s Algebra.”

You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear.

“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?”

You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.

For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?”

You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt.

“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.

“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”

“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.”

Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.

“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum.

“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-”

“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?”

Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you.

“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.”

Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better.

“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him.

He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise.

“Of course. What do you want to hear?”

“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.”

“What? No Jane Austen?”

“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.”

A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection.

“You are utterly ridiculous.”

“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm.

“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater.

“Just get the book, Spencer.”

“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.

A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub.

More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down.

“Ready to get out?”

You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air.

“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly.

“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.”

You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up.

“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.”

“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.

“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic

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viennakarma · 2 months

Text

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

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