can u make a gojo fanfic where he like abuseive when he comes home to their apartment bc hes stressed out about a meeting and stuff so like he abiuses the reader while she tries to welcome him home but she starts crying infront of him but tries to hide it and goes back to making dinner then gojo go takes a shower and thinks abt it then feels bad and gets out of the shower and realises the reader made him his favorite meal and feels emevn more bad and goes to apologize also make version with no smut and one with smut pleaseee thankz
😃 oh…
anyways yeah here you go pookie <3
Outline: Gojo isn’t trying to hurt you. It was an accident, swear.
Content Warnings: abuse, fem!reader, gojo hits reader, domestic violence, slight degradation (reader doesn’t enjoy it 😭), gojo yells at reader, use of “baby,” and “my love,” as petnames
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, fem!reader
A/N: this is the non smut one. word count: 743. btw, i don’t condone actual violence or domestic abuse yall 😭 if any of this feels familiar to you, help is available. national domestic violence hotline: 800-799-7233.
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You jump up from your seat on the couch as soon as you hear the doorknob jiggle. “You’re home!” you exclaim as your boyfriend opens the door.
You quickly run over to him, an inviting smile on your face, but he just stands at the door with an irritated expression on his face.
“Yep.” He says, tone clipped. You pause a few feet in front of him. “Is something wrong? Do you need a hug?” You ask, carefully stepping toward him.
Satoru stares at you for a good second, his eyes narrowing. “I’m fine.” He mumbles.
“Are you sure?” you pry, about to touch his bicep when he grabs your wrist. “Jesus, could you just give me a moment of peace for once?” He snaps, his grasp on your wrist tightening.
You flinch. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” suddenly, a sharp sting spreads on your cheek. You look at Satoru, feeling your face smarting.
“Shut up, goddamnit!” He yells, roughly letting go of your hand as your eyes begin to tear up. “I swear, you’re trying to get on my nerves. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
You blink in shock, your cheek reddening from the impact of the slap. Tears begin to fall from your eyes and you hold back a sob. The entire house falls into silence as the two of you stand there.
He watches you try to wipe the tears from your eyes, suddenly feeling the guilt swell in his chest. Why did he do that?
You sniffle, looking away from his gaze and pausing. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. “I’ll go finish making dinner.”
Satoru sighs, calming himself. He reaches to put his hand on your shoulder and calm you down, but you’re turning around and walking to the kitchen before he can apologize.
He can almost feel tears in his eyes, realizing what he’d done to you. Nevertheless, he watches you walk away in complete silence.
The whole scene replays in his head as he walks into the bedroom, hands in his hair and tugging from frustration. You were just trying to help him, and he hurt you like that. Another pang of guilt fills his body.
He’d had a bad day at work, everything was stressing him out. He hadn’t meant to hit you like that. He didn’t think.
Gojo rubs his temples as he strips his clothes and hops in the shower, hoping he could cool off and come back to talk to you later.
About thirty minutes later, Gojo dries himself off and walks into the living room. “Baby?” he calls out. You peek out from the kitchen.
“Toru?” you say softly, blinking at Gojo with a nervous expression. He gives you an apologetic smile.
“You okay?” He asks, walking toward you and stopping just a few feet in front of you. You simply nod a little.
“I made dinner.” You say, looking at the table covered with food. Gojo follows suit, looking over at the meal you made and immediately feeling even more guilt and regret then before.
“You made my favourite?” he asks, looking at you tenderly. You nod meekly again. He sighs.
“I’m sorry, baby.” he spoke quietly, as if afraid he’s scare you at a louder volume. You stayed silent as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your cheek.
Gently, he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just stressed. Work sucked, and I just didn’t think. I’m so so sorry.”
Your eyes tear up just a little bit, but you nod. “I just wanted to help you.” you tell him. He nods understandingly. “I know, baby.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you close to his chest. “I love you so much.” he whispers against your hair, holding you close.
You don’t move for a second, but ease into it eventually. You bury yourself into his warm embrace as his arms wrap around you protectively.
“I swear, it was an accident. I’ll never do it again.” he promises. He interlaces his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it.
“Okay, I believe you. Do you want to eat now?” You ask, looking up at him with a hopeful glint in your eye.
He grins back. “Of course, my love.” He says, guiding you to the table and sitting you down on his lap.
“And if you’d like, I can have you for desert.”
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Book Club - Part 7
Pairing: The Grid x Reader, Lance x Reader
Summary: reader in a crash, book club dads worried af abt her
requests open masterlist
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You felt nervous going into Spa, a feeling that you just couldn’t shake. You had talked to Kimi about it and even crashed the Haas garage to talk to your best friends, but nothing could shake the pit as you climbed into the pit as the light rain started. Max looked at you and gave you a thumbs up before getting into his car.
You’ve never done great at Spa, the only reason you are P4 is because of the rocket ship that is you car. That was one lap, this is 44 laps. You release a shaky breath and focus on the lights above you. Not even 10 laps later the pit in your stomach increases due to the increased rainfall. You can’t get rid of the feeling despite your intense concentration on driving.
My tires aren’t going to last much longer, I’m losing grip.
Copy, Y/n, push one more lap then we will bring you in.
By the time you reported the tire conditions you were already mostly through sector three. You resteel yourself and push the car as hard as you could while managing the tires.
It’s when you enter sector two that you panic a little. You are losing grip faster than you thought and have begun fighting the steering.
GUYS SOMETHING IS HAPPENING
Y/n?
Y/n? Are you okay? Y/n!
Your wheels lose grip to the track and send you into the wall. It’s a nasty crash that immediately red flags, the debris across the track plus the rain increasing was enough for the FIA to red flag it. Your head is pounding and your vision a little blurry. Only when your ears stop ringing do you hear the radio.
Fuck, yeah I’m okay
You slur the words and pull yourself out of the car, immediately collapsing when you stand up as everything fades to black.
Lance, slow down, red flag, red flag.
Andrew? Who was that, don’t tell me it was Y/n. Fuck, is my wife ok?
It was her, no word back yet. Nothing over her radio from what we can tell.
Andrew, I need to know. Is. She. Ok.
She just said she was ok over the radio. There is debris across the track, stop the car and a marshall will get you back to the garage.
Shit, that’s bad. Andrew, what are you hiding from me?
Lance stops the car and gets out when it is safe to do so, as indicated by the marshal, but his heart drops when he sees you being put into ambulance.
“Mr Stroll, please let me at least let me get you back to the garage,” the marshal senses that he wants to fun over to the scene. Lance reluctantly goes back to the garage where he immediately pulls out of the race and goes to the hospital where they are taking his wife.
Max, Y/n crashed behind you, red flag.
Shit, is she okay?
No confirmation yet, make your way back to the pit lane.
Max feels his heart drop. He knew how uncomfortable you were going into the race and he would do anything to go back and time and tell her not to race. The red flag ended the race, and every driver had a similar reaction to Max and Lance. Max felt sick that that’s how he won, and he said as much in the post-race interviews. It was visible how much he and the paddock cared about you. Every one of your grid dads, as you affectionately called them when talking to Max, came over to him asking for updates, hoping Max would know more since he was your teammate.
“Lance, take a seat, pacing won’t help,” Kimi tells Lance, equally worried and frustrated at the lack of information as they wait in the hospital. Kimi was already on his way after the phone call this morning, this wasn’t what he expected when he touched down. Half the grid is sitting in the room, their legs bouncing or anxiously conversing.
“Mr. Stroll,” a nurse says, causing the both of them to hop up and walk to the desk.
“Who is Mr. Stroll?” she asks and Lance slightly raises his hand.
“I am, this is her father,” Lance says, the nurse motions for the two of them to follow.
“The doctor is in the private room waiting for you,” she closes the door behind Lance and Kimi.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Janssens. I have a bit of good and bad news. Good news is that Y/n only has a mild concussion, some whiplash, sprained wrist, and a small hairline fracture of the wrist. Bad news is that she’ll be out of racing for at least a month,” both Kimi and Lance cringe at the news.
“That’s all? It was a nasty crash,” Lance asks a bit skeptically, looking at your sleeping figure.
“Based on tests and scans, we have ruled out any head, neck, and back breaks. We have her pain meds, which is why she’s sleeping. She will likely be under observation for another day or two,” the doctor says, trying to relay the information in a delicate manor.
“Thank you,” Kimi dismisses the doctor, a hand resting on your shoulder. He and Lance sit in silence for a minute, gathering feelings and thoughts.
“She looks so peaceful,” Lance says softly, holding his sleeping wife’s hand.
“I’ll give you a moment while I talk to Christian and the drivers. Think about when you want to make a statement. I may hate the media, but you don’t want them to be hounding the hospital,” Kimi says before stepping out. Kimi and Christian quickly come to an agreement about the seat, the later not wanting to lose out on his second driver. The grid takes the news relatively well, but they all know how lucky they were, especially you. Pierre and Charles may have been handling it the worst.
“Kimi, will you look over this statement?” Lance asks, knowing the older man is an expert in saying things vaguely.
All-
We want to thank you for your support following Y/n’s crash. She is currently in the hospital under the care of great doctors. We are thankful that she is okay and look forward to a smooth recovery.
- The Räikkönens and Strolls
“Looks fine to me, I will take care of the outside stuff. You focus on our girl,” Kimi goes into Dad mode, sending the message to Red Bull and Lawrence. He posts the statement first on his account, Red Bull and Lawrence following shortly afterwards. Red Bull edited it slightly to reassure fans that you still had your seat waiting for you.
“Lance? You ask as you wake up, wincing from the pain. The room is dimmer, as to not strain you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” he says softly, brushing hair from your eyes.
“Everything hurts,” you groan.
“Going into the wall will do that to you, you got lucky,” Kimi says from beside Lance.
“Dad? What did the doctor say, when can I get back into the car?” your vision slightly blurry as your eyes adjust to being awake.
“You have a concussion, whiplash, wrist sprain, and a hairline fracture. You’ll be out for about a month,” Kimi says, heart aching.
“Some of the guys are here? Want me to bring them in?” Lance asks, doing his best to distract you from the amount of time you will be out.
“Yeah,” you verbally confirm, not able to nod your head due to the neck pain. Lance leaves the room to grab the grid.
“I’m sorry, crashes like this are the worst,” Kimi tells you, clearly still affected by your crash.
“Thanks for being here, you didn’t have to leave everyone for me,” you says softly, thinking about your family back in Finland.
“They want to know that you are ok, and you are still my daughter, of course I will be here,” he replies, his softer side showing.
“I didn’t mean to scare everyone. Robin, Rianna, and Grace weren’t watching, right?” you panic a little, scared for their young minds.
“No, they know you are hurt, but they think it’s just a boo boo,” Kimi reassures you. The grid comes in and sufficiently distracts you, happy to know you’re okay.
You spend the next month in Finland with Kimi and your family, working back to 100%. Kimi takes you karting when you are almost fully recovered, getting you back to normal. Lance visits when he isn’t racing.
“Sissy, why do you have to go?” Robin asks, you tested in F1 cars again and got the green light to race again.
“I have to go drive in circles really really fast, just like Papa used to,” you crouch down to his level. Your sisters equally sad at your departure.
“What if you get a boo boo again?” Rianna asks, and you pause, thinking about how to explain it well.
“Do you stop going to the park even after your fall and get a boo boo there? Sometimes we get hurt, but that’s ok,” you don’t promise that you won’t get hurt, that’s not a promise you can keep. Rianna nods, understanding but sad you aren’t staying.
“Will Lancie come back next time?” Robin asks, not wanting to let you go.
“He will, I’ll be back in a couple weeks, it’ll fly by,” you give you siblings one last hug. Kimi hugs you goodbye as well, he spent the past week going over the track with you and talking about strategies.
When you get to the track, you are stopped by every driver, asking how you are and saying how much they missed you.
“Welcome back,” Fernando greets you when you walk into the club meeting.
“I listened to the audiobook, let’s get this party started,” you smile, happily listening to Lewis and Daniel fight about some symbolism. Your boys pampered you for your return. George brought you coffee from Mercedes, Logan brought you a pastry that he picked up from a bakery. Valtteri gave you some home remedies for your sore muscles that he swore works wonders. Kevin and Nico just hugged you but that was enough for you.
“Max was freaking out, he chewed out the Red Bull team for not pitting you earlier,” Daniel tells you, having filled in for you while you were hurt.
“That’s nice of him,” you smile to yourself. Lewis had also been vocal in interviews about how your crash could’ve been prevented if the race had ended sooner due to the rain.
“Y/n! Have a second?” a reporter asks and you nod.
“See you later, Danny,” you wave goodbye to him and approach the mic.
“Thanks for joining me, I just have a couple quick questions. First off, how are you feeling?”
“I’m really good, a little sore, but itching to get into the car again,” you reply, not giving away more than that regarding your injuries.
“You certainly seemed to scare the grid when you weren’t responding after the crash. How has your welcome back been?” the reporter pushes for more information.
“They’ve been great, they all came to the hospital to visit and have taken great care of me today. I obviously feel bad for scaring them, but they are the best competitors I could ask for,” you smile, before leaving the interview.
“Welcome back, kid,” Max hugs you when you walk into the Red Bull motorhome. You sing Super Max when you see him, having spent the last month listening to the silly songs that have been written for the drivers
“Thanks Maxie. Who is the better teammate, me or Daniel?” you grin, putting the dutchman in a tough spot.
“Daniel, for sure,” Max jokes. Your jaw drops and you turn around, leaving to go to another motorhome. You find yourself in McLaren, singing Let’s Go, Lando, with Lando himself who was happy to join in with your under-the-breath singing. Oscar wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at or murder the two of you.
“What brings you to our home?” Oscar asks once you both stop singing.
“Max said he liked Daniel more than me as a teammate,” you pout, not revealing that you knew he was joking.
“Right, I’m texting Lance,” Oscar shakes his head with a laugh, leaving you and Lando to chat.
“Y/n, love, you just healed, let’s not get hurt by forcing McLaren security to kick you out,” Lance laughs when he sees you and Lando bonding.
“Noooo, we were just becoming friends, she never hands out with drivers that are her age,” Lando whines. You give him an ick face.
“For good reason, you are all icky,” you quickly turn to Lance, “not you, baby,” you smile and turn back to Lando, “why would I hang out with you all and party after races when I can spend time with the older drivers whose company I prefer,” your eyebrow quirks.
“Say what you want, I’ve seen you at our parties. You have more fun than Lance,” Lando grins.
“Alright Lance, let’s go,” you get up, Lance assisting you since you are still a little slow due to the aches still in your muscles. He walks with you hand in hand back to Red Bull where your trainer helps work out your neck muscles and tape your neck and wrist.
“Let us know if you are feeling pain, if you have to pull out of free practice early, pull out. There is no shame if you are hurting,” Christian tells you, before you get to your car.
“I know, I’ll let you know,” you smile, feeling good in the car. After FP1, all of your grid dads found you after weigh ins, checking you over.
“Mi hija, are you okay? Does anything hurt? How is your hand,” Fernando asks, filling his usual position as the overprotective grid dad.
“A little sore, yeah,” you groan as you roll your shoulders.
“Don’t do that, let’s get you to an ice bath, then some heat,” Kevin says. Lance and your trainer don’t bother checking in on you.
“Let’s have a, well what your would call, a girls night. Help you recover,” Lewis suggests. And that’s how you spend the next few nights, in pajamas, with fluffy blankets, alternating cold and heat on your neck, watching movies of books you had read with the club.
“Petition to make this an occurrence each race?” Valtteri proposes at one point, getting eight voices in agreement back. They did a wonderful job of helping you recover, and the encouraging phone calls to Kimi helped you feel more than ready to race when race day approaches.
“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! GREAT START FROM RÄIKKÖNEN!” The announcer yells into the mic as you gain a few places, toe to toe with Max.
Can I race?
Permission to Race, give em hell, Y/n
You end up winning the race with a 1-2 finish, pulling a Carlos Sainz and Ferrari after his appendix removal. Your first F1 win.
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