#anyways this ask wasn't asking for my life story

[uceyliyahh]

NOVACANE

Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

word count: 4392

Jey Uso x Desiree

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak

Ø6

"I will love you forever mama,"

"You have to trust me I'm not going anywhere,"

"I don't want her only you okay? Only you,"

"I'm not going to leave you baby,"

DESIREE Jey's weekend visit came to an end all too quickly as he had to catch a flight back for Monday Night Raw. I felt a wave of sadness wash over me; I wished he could have stayed just a bit longer. Time flew by, and I couldn't shake the feeling of wanting more moments together. However, I didn't want to come off as clingy, so I decided to keep my feelings to myself and let him go.

I truly cherished our weekend together. Jey treated me like a princess, showering me with affection and attention, much like a little girl receiving her very first doll. I felt the urge to argue that he didn’t have to pamper me so, but he was determined to do it anyway, believing wholeheartedly that I deserve nothing less than the best.

Jey mentioned that he would message me as he approaches his hotel room, and I sincerely hope that no one else will be there by that time. In the meantime, I enjoyed a day off from work today, using my iPad to craft fresh designs for my clients. My boss was really impressed with my tattoo concepts and has asked me to showcase them.

I was thrilled because I have a genuine passion for drawing, especially on people. I eagerly anticipated my first day at the new job, as the strip club had become overwhelming for me ever since Jayden showed up and put me in a chokehold.

I received intimidating messages from him, and to make matters worse, the girls at my workplace were starting to learn about Jey. It really upset me, but I felt reluctant to discuss it.

 As I was using my iPad, a message from Bianca popped up, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia for my best friend. I really miss her at this moment.

IMESSAGE 💬 Binky💗: Heyyy Desiii Desi🫶🏽: Heyyy girly I miss you Binky💗: I miss you too, how are things going right now? Desi🫶🏽: it's going fine Binky💗: how are you and Jey? Desi🫶🏽: girl, please don't start Binky💗: Desiree don't act like I didn't see you all posted up with him on your close friends 😭 Desi🫶🏽: ugh fine 🙄 we are doing good but he left for Monday Night Raw im worried B Binky💗: why? Desi🫶🏽: because anything could happen while we are away from each other Binky💗: oh? You're attached to him aren't you? Desi🫶🏽: no? I'm not Binky💗: Desi? I know you Desi🫶🏽: I'm not attached to him Bianca Binky💗: you're beautiful your denying it just admit that you're in love with him Desi🫶🏽: I'm not!🥲🥲 Binky💗: so this wasn't yall on your close friends? Binky💗:

Desi🫶🏽: I hate you so much yk? But yes I love the man he's so caring and genuine Binky💗: then what's the issue? Desi🫶🏽: we are away from each other and idk what he'll do while we are away ik how busy yall get Binky💗: see what did I say? Jey loves you so much Desi🫶🏽: I doubt that honestly who knows who he's talkin too rn B Binky💗: Desi you gotta stop being In your head about this he loves you Desi🫶🏽: idkkk honestly Binky💗: you need some dick atp girl Desi🫶🏽: 🙄🙄 dick won't help at all Bianca Binky💗: it will Desiree look don't get inside your head that much that will drain you okay? I gotta go I'll check up on you later Desi🫶🏽: kk

 Reflecting on my conversation with Bianca, I realize she might have a point. Perhaps I shouldn't overthink this situation. This man has consistently shown me that his intentions are genuine and that I am his sole focus. Yet, my past experiences with Jayden have made it difficult for me to fully accept that reality.

Sometimes my heart whispers that I love him, but my mind counters with doubts, insisting he doesn't feel the same. This overthinking is exhausting, so I immerse myself in creating designs on my iPad, trying to distract myself from the turmoil within.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

JEY I was in a hotel room with my twin brother and Trinity when I came across a story posted by Desiree on my social media feed. To my surprise, it appeared she was creating something on her iPad. I was truly amazed; I had no idea she had such impressive design skills!

I truly felt her absence after our wonderful weekend together; it flew by in the blink of an eye. Returning to work was tough, and I can't help but wish she could join me on all my adventures. However, I completely understand that she needs to focus on her job to earn her keep, and I respect that immensely.

I received numerous messages from Ke'liyah on Instagram asking when I would return to Tennessee to visit her, but I chose to ignore them, focusing solely on Desiree. As I was scrolling through my social media, I suddenly heard Jon calling my name, which made me stop and pay attention.

"What's up Uce?" I asked placing my phone down on my chest.

"When are we going to meet Desiree? Trin told me she already met her the other day when Desiree came to visit," he said

I chuckle at him, "y'all will see her soon with all of this traveling and her working its goin to be a minute," Jonathan nodded his head.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and as I glanced at the screen, I noticed it was another message from Ke'Liyah. A deep sigh escaped me, drawing Trinity's gaze.

"You good Jey?"

"Yeah, I'm good it's just this girl I met before Desiree at the strip club is blowing my phone up," I replied.

"What she saying?"

I shared the messages from Ke'Liyah with her, and I could see her expression change as she read them. "That girl is really acting out; it honestly looks like she's jealous of Desiree," she remarked, and I nodded in agreement.

IG MESSAGES 💬 ke'liyah: Jeyyy I miss you uceyjucey: I don't? I have a girlfriend ke'liyah: Desiree? she's not even all of that why would deal with someone like her? uceyjucey: because I can? stop blowing up my phone why don't you start talking to my cousin he single 😒 ke'liyah: but I want you Jey uceyjucey: well I don't again I have a girl at home waiting for me to come home so you can stop messing with me respectfully ke'liyah: mmcht the dick wasn't even that good anyways little dick nigga uceyjucey: 😭😭

This girl really had the audacity to say something like that about me, but honestly, I wasn't bothered—I never liked her much anyway. I had promised Desiree that I would text her as soon as I got to the hotel room, and that's exactly what I did.

IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua💵: mamas? I made it Desiree🦋: hey that's good Joshua💵: you okay? Desiree🦋: yeah, I'm fine just watching a movie on Netflix hbu? Joshua💵: I'm just chilling right now you should watch Monday night Raw tonight Desiree🦋: just to see you? Joshua💵: exactly mama Desiree🦋: you're funny but I'll make sure to watch it tonight Joshua💵: aight, I miss yo' little cute ass already Desiree🦋: I miss you too big papa Joshua💵: big papa? 🫣 that's new baby Desiree🦋: please 😭 Joshua💵: send me a picture of yo' cute ass need something in my gallery Desiree🦋: we literally took pictures together all weekend Joshua Joshua💵: so? Send me some pictures Desiree🦋: aight hollon boy 🙄 Joshua💵: it's daddy baby doll Desiree🦋: yeah yeah whatever Desiree🦋:

Joshua💵: damn mama you making me want to come right the fuck back home looking like that 😩 Desiree🦋: boy please stop it Joshua💵: I'm fr baby them cheeks hanging out for me 🙂‍↕️ Desiree🦋: then come home Joshua💵: being bold I see? I wish I could mama but I have to be at work you'll see me again love Desiree🦋: ughhh fine 😖 Joshua💵: don't be whining or imma give you something to whine about when I come back home Desiree🦋: what the fuck ever nigga, tell Trin I said Hey Joshua💵: aight then mama I'll check up on you later I love you Desiree🦋: I-I love you too... Joshua💵: don't hesitate to say it mama you know I love you

She is aware of her feelings for me, yet her thoughts are clouding her judgment, making it hard for her to accept that my love for her is genuine. Desiree understands the situation, but I couldn't help but notice Jonathan's constant presence on my phone, which caught me off guard.

"Damn! Fool can't be sneaking up on folks like that," I said while pushing him while he chuckled at me.

"My fault Uce, my fault," Jonathan said.

"Need to get a damn private screen on my phone, yo' ass like to be nosy Trin come get yo' husband," Trinity grabbed Jon by the hair dragging him towards the other bed causing him to whine like a baby.

I chuckled at them two while continuing to scroll through my social media after texting Desiree.

OMNISCIENT Desiree was at work, gracefully dancing on the pole, her focus consumed by the rhythm and the cash being tossed her way. While the money brought her a sense of satisfaction, her thoughts drifted anxiously, wishing to avoid the sight of Jayden and his friends arriving that night. Without Jey by her side, she felt vulnerable and unprotected.

As she gracefully spun around the pole, she effortlessly transitioned into a split, showcasing her remarkable talent. The men watched in awe, clearly impressed by her skills. In admiration, they began to place money into her attire while she playfully blew kisses in their direction.

Desiree did manage to form a few friendships in this environment, yet she consistently maintained a certain distance. She was determined to avoid any potential drama with the other girls, who seemed primarily focused on their own interests, seeking both financial gain and the spotlight from the men around them.

She suddenly noticed a crowd entering, and to her astonishment, it was Jayden. Overwhelmed with uncertainty, she felt his gaze lock onto her as he made his way through the throng, pushing the men aside to reach her directly.

He stepped onto the stage and seized her by the throat, leaving her shocked and taken aback by his sudden aggression.

"Where's that nigga at Desiree?" Jayden questioned her.

"H-he's not here...let me go..." she said holding onto his wrist.

Jayden scoffed while rolling his eyes at her, "that's bullshit Desiree and you know it where is he?!" He shouted.

Desiree felt a surge of fear for her life, haunted by vivid memories from three years prior.

MINI FLASHBACK (domestic violence) Desiree and Jayden found themselves in a heated argument in the car, sparked by a betrayal that Jayden had committed without her knowledge. In a moment of anger, he struck her in the face, warning her that he would flip the car if she didn’t stop talking. Terrified for her life, she fell silent, realizing the danger of being with someone capable of such violence.

"I told yo' delusional ass that me and her didn't fuck around Desiree!" Jayden shouted.

"You're so fucking stupid,"

Desiree remained quiet, her thoughts swirling as she gazed out the window at the setting sun. She longed for an end to the tension that hung between them, hoping that soon, this chapter of their lives would close.

He was infuriated when she remained silent, seizing her chin with a firm grip and locking his gaze onto hers without hesitation. "bitch you better speak or imma fuck yo' ass up when we get home," his threats were scaring her to the bone having tears forming up in her eyes.

"I don't have nothing to say Jayden..." Desiree said.

"Oh? So now you don't have anything to say but a few hours go your ass was yapping up a fucking storm about me messing with ol' girl,"

She remained silent because the truth of her earlier words was undeniable. She had gone through his phone and discovered numerous messages exchanged with various women, yet now she was sitting there, trying to deny everything.

Desiree turned her face from his grasp, her gaze drifting back to the window as a tear rolled down her cheek, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness.

 "There are moments when I just can't take it anymore, Desiree. Your constant overthinking and assumptions drive me to this point. It's not my fault that I'm currently unfaithful; I've found myself with multiple women, and it's all because of how overwhelming you can be."

Tears streamed down her face as she listened to him confess his infidelity. She knew she needed to walk away, but the thought of leaving him felt impossible; she simply lacked the strength to do so.

The entire car journey was filled with silence; neither of them uttered a word after he admitted to his infidelity. His confession shattered Desiree's heart, yet she allowed her thoughts to overwhelm her.

'See you're not enough for him or nobody,'

'You will never find someone different due to how you think,'

'You will never be enough,'

"No nigga will be able to deal with you, they'll just cheat on you like I did," Jayden said while chuckling.

FLASHBACK OVER

"I literally just told y-you...he's not here!" she managed to gasp out.

Jayden was on the verge of hitting her when suddenly someone yanked him away, leaving Desiree gasping for breath as she sank to her knees. She watched in disbelief as the security guard escorted him and his friends out of the building once more.

"THIS AINT OVER WITH DESIREE! IMMA KILL HIM!" he shouted while the security guards were escorting him out the building.

Desiree had never experienced embarrassment until that moment. As she sprinted toward the locker room, seeking refuge from the world outside, her body trembled uncontrollably, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Memories of the turmoil Jayden had caused her over their three years together flooded her mind, intensifying her feelings of distress.

Desiree reached a breaking point after enduring countless threats of violence—beatings, shootings, stabbings—each one weighing heavily on her mind. The fear and anxiety became unbearable, compelling her to seek a restraining order against him. With Jey often away for work, she felt isolated and without support, leaving her to confront this terrifying situation on her own. It was time to take a stand and reclaim her safety.

Amidst her tears, she resolved to pull herself together and focus on her work, driven by the desire to cap off the evening by watching her man wrestle tonight.

Desiree freshened up her face, carefully fixing her makeup that had smudged, and confidently returned to the pole, acting as if nothing had occurred.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Desiree arrived home just in time to catch Jey on Monday Night Raw. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag onto the couch as she made her way to the kitchen to prepare a quick meal.

She whipped up a quick mini Chicken Caesar Salad and grabbed a bottle of water as she made her way to the living room to catch Monday Night Raw. Settling into the couch, she tuned in to Michael Cole and Pat discussing the latest happenings on the show.

Recently, there was a recap of the latest events on Raw, highlighting the intriguing love story unfolding between Jey and Liv, which also involves Dom. This unexpected twist took Desiree by surprise for a moment.

Following the recap, Liv and Jey engaged in a conversation backstage about Dom. Desiree observed Jey's familiar gestures as he interacted with Liv, his hands exploring her in a way that mirrored their own moments together. This sight ignited a whirlwind of thoughts in her mind, leaving her feeling both intrigued and unsettled.

'You see that Desiree?'

'Remember what Jayden told you in the past,'

'And look it's happening,'

Desiree found herself trapped in her thoughts, a place she wished to avoid. The idea of her man being with another woman filled her with a deep sense of trauma. She couldn't tell if it was just a plot twist or something more personal, but the discomfort was overwhelming. It reached a point where she simply didn't want to continue watching.

She dismissed it as usual, her attention fixed on the unfolding match. As the game progressed, her thoughts began to drift in every direction.

Overthinking

Overthinking

Constantly Overthinking

She couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy after witnessing his chemistry with Liv Morgan. The way he gazed at her, his lips glistening as he licked them while she spoke, made her question her own worth. Liv's beauty seemed to overshadow her, leaving her lost in a spiral of self-doubt.

MINI FLASHBACK 2 (domestic violence)

"Am I not enough for you Jayden? I have given you everything," Desiree said while folding her arms over her chest.

Jayden shrugged his shoulders at her before speaking, "I don't know Desiree, you tell me honestly," he said while smoking a blunt.

 His casual attitude towards everything was completely unsettling for her. She realized that discussing it with him would be pointless. Frustrated, Desiree raised her hands in exasperation and made her way upstairs to their bedroom to pack some clothes.

Desiree reached her breaking point after three years of feeling undervalued in their relationship. It was exhausting to watch him act as if she were insignificant, all while he was sneaking around, taking advantage of her tendency to overthink. She deserved so much more than this lack of respect and consideration.

Three years wasted down the fucking drain.

She packed a few essentials and made the decision to call an Uber to a hotel located far from his place, eager to escape his presence for good. As she descended the stairs with her bag slung over her shoulder, she caught his eye while slipping on her shoes, signaling her determination to leave.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Jayden questioned her.

"I need a break from all of this Jayden,  to think things over," she said while waiting on her Uber driver to come.

He rose from his chair with a heavy stomp, making his way toward her. In a swift motion, he yanked her hair, causing her to yelp in surprise. As Desiree met his gaze, she could see the intense fire burning in his eyes, drawing her closer to his face.

"If you thinking about leaving me I'll kill yo' ass you hear me?" His threats were sending shivers down her spine while she nodded her head.

"I'll let you have yo' alone time but you better be back," Jayden pulls away making Desiree stumble a bit while she rubbed her hair while looking at him with fear in her eyes.

'I need to fucking leave before he tries to kill me, why god did I have to go through this?' Thats all she could think about at the moment seeing her Uber driver pulling up to the place.

She cast one final glance at him before stepping out, only to find him engrossed in his phone, smiling at something that had never brought a smile to his face for her. With a heavy sigh, she walked out and firmly closed the door behind her.

Desiree stepped into the Uber, exchanging a friendly greeting with the driver. Her gaze then locked onto Jayden, who stood by the window in their house, observing her intently as if she were a captivating target.

'She fucking hated his guts,'

FLASHBACK OVER

Desiree jolted back to reality, realizing she had been lost in her thoughts for too long. She quickly checked her social media to catch up on the latest happenings. Her heart raced when she spotted a story from Liv Morgan, showcasing a picture of her getting cozy with Jey. The sight sent a rush of emotions through her.

She attempted to convince herself that it might all be a performance, merely a part of the spectacle, yet deep down, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that relocating to Atlanta with him was a mistake.

Desiree made the choice to switch off the TV, no longer interested in watching Monday Night Raw. As she tossed her food in the trash, she headed upstairs to her room.

She collapsed onto the bed, tears welling up in her eyes. How could she have been so naive to believe that someone like Jey could ever love someone like her? This thought consumed her as she cried, her breath growing increasingly shallow.

She was mentally fucked up

Hurt

Damaged

She could sense that Jey was growing weary of her constant overthinking and assumptions, just as Jayden had before. It felt like a painful cycle repeating itself. Perhaps she wasn't the right match for Jey after all—feeling shattered and mentally exhausted.

Desiree chose to take a brief shower, hoping that the refreshing water would wash away her worries and bring her some much-needed tranquility.

Desiree enjoyed a refreshing, lengthy shower and chose to activate the do not disturb mode on her phone. She wanted to immerse herself in her own world without interruptions. With her wireless headphones in hand, she placed them comfortably on her head and started playing her favorite music.

As she scrolled through her playlist, she hit play on Drake's "Find Your Love." The heartfelt lyrics filled the room, and as she absorbed the music, she glanced at her notifications. To her surprise, Jey had sent her a message, likely puzzled by her Do Not Disturb status.

Joshua💵 sent a message

IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua💵: mamas? you good? why is your phone on DND?

Desiree was uncertain about discussing the issue with him, fearing it might upset him. To avoid confrontation, she chose to fabricate a story, hoping he wouldn't catch on to her deception.

Desiree🦋: I'm okay Joshua just had a long day today that's all Joshua💵: you sure? Desiree🦋: positive Joshua💵: un-un I'm not buying it what's wrong? Desiree🦋: Joshua.... Joshua💵: nah I'm not listening to that whining what's wrong Desiree? Desiree🦋: you'll just leave me and get tired eventually...😔 Joshua💵: huh? where is this all coming from? Desiree🦋: I seen you with her Joshua💵: Liv? Baby that's just for the show it's not real Desiree🦋: then what about what she had posted on her social media? Joshua💵: I didn't know that she was going to post that I promise you it's not real mama Desiree🦋: your positive u didn't know? Joshua💵: yes mama why would I lie? Desiree🦋: men lie all the time Josh Joshua💵: like I told you I'm not him or any other man who does stupid shit like that Joshua💵: I want you to believe me baby Desiree🦋: I'm sorry a lot has been happening today...had a horrible day at work tonight and then I saw the interaction between you and her and the way you was looking at her licking your lips staring into her eyes made me feel like you wanted her instead of me...😔 Joshua💵: I don't want her baby girl, I want you and only you you have been on my mind all day today Desiree🦋: really? Joshua💵: yes, what happened at work? Desiree🦋: Jayden came back looking for you and he was being aggressive with me Joshua💵: that bitch ass boy? bet its on sight when I come back home but mama you have to trust me okay? I told you I'm serious about you and us Desiree🦋: and I told you in the beginning that you'll get tired of me with me being in my head a lot Joshua💵: and I told you that I didn't care about none of that Desiree imma love tf outta you the way you needed to be

The message he sent resonated deeply; he was genuinely serious about everything. Why did she constantly overthink when a man like him was openly expressing his love for her?

Joshua💵: I'm yours Desiree nobody isn't goin to take me away from you Desiree🦋: okay I'm sorry... Joshua💵: it's okay mamas you don't need to apologize you know I love you Desiree🦋: I do too...really do... Joshua💵: yeah? You'll see me when I come back home baby doll aight? Desiree🦋: aight Joshua💵: imma let you get some rest baby I'll text you in the morning Desiree🦋: kk Joshua💵: I love you Desiree🦋: I love you too

Desiree, after an insightful discussion with Jey, realized it was time to retire for the night. She couldn't help but wish that Jey were there beside her, wrapped in a warm embrace, providing her with the comfort and security she craved.

She quickly entered his bedroom, which appeared far cozier than her own. As she stepped into his spacious closet, she grabbed one of his hoodies and slipped it on. Then, she settled into his bed, feeling completely at ease.

She started sharing posts exclusively with her close friends on Instagram because she had a small circle and wanted to keep her personal life private from prying eyes.

uceyjucey replied to your story: I miss you too baby I'll see if I can make time to come home to see you my people wanna meet you

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: GIRL YALL LOOK SO CUTE TOGETHER OVER HERE SAYING U DONT LOVE THAT MAN WHEN YOU DO 😭😭

y2kjayden replied to your story: Your man? I don't know how he could deal with a person like you so insecure and in your head a lot

MontezFordWWE replied to your story: Don't worry sis you'll see him fasho

ke'liyah replied to your story: you mean my man?

Desiree chose to overlook the remarks from Jayden and Ke'Liyah about her story, instead focusing on Jey's response. She held onto the hope that he would find the time to visit her once more. 

She set her phone on the charger atop the dresser beside her, then nestled under the blankets. The familiar scent of him lingered in the hoodie she wore and the sheets enveloping her, providing a deep sense of comfort.

As her eyelids grew heavy, she felt herself slipping into slumber, yearning for the moment when she would finally see him again.

NOVACANE

A/n: I was expecting you all to like this story honestly I was kinda of nervous fr but honestly I think Desiree really does love Jey fr and he wants to give her the world despite all the bullshit she has been through.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[froggerland]

For the cold boys ask please tell me how you feel about Ned Little ❤️❤️❤️ Thank You!

THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

I am so normal about him you can't imagine how normal I am about that man.

Anyways:

First Impression: I think almost everyone has the same experience with this one: when you first watch the show you don't really register him for the first five episodes or so and then you either love him or are very much neutral about him. I vaguely remember the scene where he's standing next to Jopson looking like a kicked dog while Crozier yells at him and I think that's when I took note of him like "ohh poor boy let me give you a hug :(" I really fell for him in the second half of the season (first mainly bc hes pretty. Im a simple woman sometimes and im not afraid to admit it) and I cannot stress this enough how much the last scene where Crozier finds him half frozen with the chains on his face has altered my brain chemistry. That was the fr the point where I was like "okay so I'll never be normal again EVER huh"

Impression Now: I love him. I love him so so much on so many layers. For one I need him biblically bc I believe I can fix his ass and his sad energy and big cow eyes have bewitched me body and soul. Matthew McNulty was born to sport mutton chops and look increasingly disheveled while on a death march in the canadian arctic. But I can't put into words how much I relate to him. I am him, he is me. Genuinely if I was put on that stupid expedition in his place I would've made all the same (bad) decisions. I can literally name two other characters in media I relate to and those are Kat from Euphoria (only the first season version and I think if I watched the show now I would throw her off this list) and Connel from Normal People (him just,, big time). They just don't make characters that messy, pathetic and sad very often!! Or I'm not watching enough tv to find them but when I saw Ned throughout the season I was like "wow I relate to him so much and idk what that says about me". I feel like I went on a tangent there but I love him he is such a dear. He tried so so hard to do right and keep things under control bc he hates chaos but he was just so overwhelmed and had to deal with Croziers shit for way too long (I'm trying to sound smart rn bc people have very nuanced but sometimes also kinda weird takes on his character. Believe me I see him as more than sad wet puppy man but I don't have the words in the english language to express that)

Favorite Moment: Any scene he's in ever? Duh?? No but if I had to pick one I'd say the dundy intervention when he finally tries to put a foot down to rescue Crozier but they all just dismiss him. The way his eyes water. I. Mmh. I think I'm obligated to name his last scene as well bc that one makes me cry everytime even if I just see a gif of it, it's just so haunting and so so sad

Idea For A Story: Oh. Uhmmmmm. I'm really not a writer so I can't come up with anything cool on top of my head except let Ned be happy and comfy and warm. Tuck him into bed and give him soup. That's all

Unpopular Opinion: I can't really tell what's an unpopular opinion bc I've seen basically every take ever on him from "he is a pushover how did he even get his job" to "he's actually a meanie with big time anger issues" so. Maybe that I think he would've been a good lieutenant with a different captain on a more chill cruise. He'd do very well keeping order and the respect of the crew if he didn't have to be the doormat and errands boy for his alcoholic captain while starving in the arctic. I'd dare say 99.9% of life on a ship was more chill than the franklin expedition so maybe he wasn't the best lieutenant ever but he would've done a good job if the stakes weren't THAT high

Favorite Relationship: Started as a Joplittle stan, became a Sojoplittle truther and now my favorite is Solittle. I love my two dog boys, I love how they parallel each other (they were narrative foils your honor). But honestly anything goes, everyone deserves a bite out of nedward <3

Favorite Headcanon: That animals love him. Saw that on my feed a few days ago and yeah, agreed. He's definitely a cat person and they just flock towards him (extended hc that jirv loves animals so so much but they just hate him for some reason. So when the ships cat sneaks in during meetings jirv tries to get her to come towards him but the cat's like "ew no church boy" and jumps into Ned's lap who pets her but also prays he won't get yelled at by Crozier for this)

[v-whitenoise]

"Soulmates? SOULMATES--" Another pause while his screen glitched out again, this time lasting a little longer before he came back online again. The frustration had pushed on his nerves. Written all over that screen of his with his swirling hypnotic eye and the way his brows furrowed over his eyes. Even the tones of his voice between glitches was full of anger. Why was he so angry? Because it wasn't anger he felt. Not really. Vox's grip around him tightened again, those claws pressing through the fabric, though not quite hard enough to pierce through to the skin beneath. He could hurt him right now, send a shock through him. That would be easy, or even ensnare him in his many cables. But he did neither of these things. In fact the only thing he was doing was holding onto him as if he was afraid of letting him go. Despite the tones of his voice and the constant overload it was causing him, Vox wasn't doing anything but holding him against himself. As though that might somehow fix the pain that was stabbing him in the chest currently. Over and over again with each added word, every truth that had been spilled to him. A tragic story revealed - a misunderstanding. Or maybe they just had a loss of communication. He stilled while he explained himself, though it didn't stop that eye from swirling in his frustration as he listened. His teeth clenched tightly. Now the what ifs flooded his mind as they were presented to him. What would he have done if he had known back then? Thinking back to the kind of young man he used to be -- a stand up fellow back in the day, full of ambition and vigor. It seemed he had a bright future ahead of him, even from a young age. But that was not where it went or how it had ended up. A lifetime of lying, cheating and stealing -- that's what had gotten him in Hell. He earned his place here just as much as Alastor had. But in a different way, maybe he hadn't killed anyone but he had convinced people to do things unsavory for him. He had stolen from them and sold lies to make himself wealthy. "So you killed people then... there's a fucking surprise." His words were flat, but calmer. Slowly his expression easing back into its normal state. Soulmates. He kept using that word. Did that actually exist? And if it did-- how the hell were they supposed to know? Vox pulled back enough to look at him, his brows were still knitted tightly over his eyes, which were narrowed, but the glare was mild now. It seemed the realization that they had drifted apart in life had been because of concern eased some of the rage coursing through him. Or... maybe he was just more accepting of the reason being concern because it confirmed that what he had felt back then might not have been so one sided. As one sided as it had felt. That was only a small portion of all the heartache he felt though. It barely scratched the surface of everything that they had been through.

"Did you really think it'd stop just because you pushed me away?" It appeared that his calming down had at least eased some of his glitching. For the moment anyway. "I left because I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't stand living in that town without you. And did I live a great life? Ha! Maybe for myself -- I left and created an entire following to do exactly what I asked them to do. I took advantage of weak minded people to advance my own career because it was the only thing I could control." "I lied to them. Took their money and led them like sheep into a web of false beliefs. All because I wanted to feel important--" His grip tightened again. "--And then I fucking died in an accident, go figure! Crushed to death during a god damn televised event!" Why was he admitting all of his sins? Was it because he had come clean too? Maybe so. But he had a point to make here. Leading a cult, selling lies... he brainwashed people just as much as he does now. But those were all things that had been unknown to Alastor. They'd been well established after his death. Vox just at the prime of his career whenever he had died on set. A loose monitor falling from where it had been rigged up and crushing him. It was a little ironic in the end that he should arrive to Hell with the head of the very thing that had been the end of him. The TV Demon. Fate was a twisted bitch, truly. "You want to know why I bothered? Because it never fucking stopped for me!" His voice was starting to pick up again, as the pain once more gripped his chest. It seemed to worsen whenever he started to talk about his feelings, specifically. "I died ALONE because I never got over it -- YOU! And then I come to Hell and have to go through it AGAIN?!!" His display flickered again while blue sparks ran through him once again. "I bother because I CAN--T STO--P!!" Loving him, he meant. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm down again. "If THIS is what soulmates are, then I want to know why the fuck I got dragged into it. And who decided I was the one on the short end of the fucking stick?" Because he was convinced that the demon before him had long sense gotten over anything he might have felt. It was all in the past for him, wasn't it?

Wide eyed, he stared at him. The words had been stripped from him, he'd been left completely speechless. He remembered who he was? After all this time...? Something deep inside Vox burned at that thought. His chest becoming tight from the thought -- the reality of it all. The irony... If he hadn't already been dead, he was sure he would have dropped dead of a heart attack right there. With how tight and painful his chest had become, leaving The TV Demon to grip at the front of shirt, as though the fabric itself was contributing to the fact that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. Hell he couldn't even get his head to wrap coherently around any one emotion for a second. There was little room for him to react though to respond right away. Because the other Overlord had slid from his console and pulled him up out of his chair. The start of this conversation falling from his lap as he stood. A jolt ran through his body at the contact that was made between him and the other sinner. That blue static surging down and around his frame once again, but never striking Alastor. As if dancing around him to avoid touching him with it, avoiding the shock it could bring. Trembling hands rose from his sides to slowly close his side of the embrace. The question he had asked him seemed far away. He was shell shocked. Locked into a temporary stun. 'when did you start hating me?' 'the first time I ever felt love was with you... I realized that later though, too late.' Those words repeated in his mind over and over again. Like a form of code that he was trying to process. But he couldn't keep up with it. Blink at him in his shock, Vox's display flashed. 'ERROR. ERROR ERROR' His body nearly going limp in his arms for a moment until he seemingly rebooted himself a few seconds later. His screen coming back online with another flash and his expression was just as pained and mixed as it had been. Oh he could hardly handle all of this and he felt like he was about to explode. "Ha... haha. Hate you?" His intense feelings the ones he had held onto for so long here in Hell. They now mixed with the part of him he had left behind when he died. The longing he felt when he was alive. The way he'd watched him.. admired him. Genuinely enjoyed his company... his first love. His first heartbreak. A first everything. Had he ever truly hated him? Or had it all just manifested as something else because it was easier to accept his loss and heartbreak by being angry about it? That seemed much more plausible with the way he was feeling now. With how he was barely able to process anything that was happening.

Slowly his eyes shifted to focus on him, that heartbreaking smile forcing itself back across his display. "...Al I never hated you. I hated the way you made me feel--" His brows furrowed now. "I--I loved you and you -- YOU...!" Another glitch, his screen flashing for a moment before it came back on. His emotions were becoming too much. His claws sank into him a little harder, gripping onto the fabric of his coat as though that might ground him from glitching again. "Y-You push--ed me...AWAY..!" It didn't help though the more he tried to convey what he was feeling the more his screen flickered. Glitching out, the error flashing again and again. And yet he kept going, determined to until he shut down. "In life--an--d...s-seven years ago!--- FUCKER! You didn't think I'd make it here in Hell? Well what about you? Huh?" When some of his frustration returned though he seemed to stabilize himself a little bit.

[arctic-hands]

I always say the shingles saga as an immunocompromised sixteen-year-old was my near-death experience but then my mom will occasionally make musings of the time my heart stopped when I was 8 and I'm like oh yeah that happened

[iseetheisland]

Exactly one person wants more lore so congratulations, you all get it!!

This one will be a little more goofy. A little less general abuse and moreso just being a bad person. But it will come as a shock to literally no one that my dad was homophobic (and at least flirted with basically any other bigot alliance you can think of). He was especially bothered that the word "gay" wasn't just happy anymore. He ranted about it often.

Well, one time he got into this rant at the shop with me for some reason. He started popping off loudly. He gets into the thick of it. With the "gay means happy, they can't just appropriate our words and change the meaning! They ruined it! Gay should still mean happy!"

That sort of thing.

I, of course, wanted to sink into the ground and decompose. He's just ranting to hear himself talk. But finally, I chime in with something like "well it still means happy too, right?" And he goes with a "you're right! We should take the word back! ...I hope everyone has a gay day! I hope I have a gay day! I'm so gay today!!! I'm proud to be gay!!" Etc.

Now if you've met me, you know that my voice has natural volume. Well, I'm like the diet version of my father in that way. My city is not lgbtq+ friendly now. Forget about at least fifteen years ago.

So, that's how my dad came out to all of a wide-eyed walmart to uh. Revolt? Fight the gays? Idk man but but I'm happy he found himself or whatever.

[littlest-bugz]

Child me would be so happy if they saw who I am today- That's not something I would've ever thought I would say, but here I am. It's kind of surreal, if I'm being honest.

That poor kid went through so much pain and suffering, but I never gave up. I have my system to thank for my safety, my ability to bounce back. I am fractured but whole- broken but beautiful.

If only he could see all the good that has come into our life. Yes, I live with the same abusive family, but there is so much good.

I finally got the accommodations I always needed, I can finally say I have friends who care about me and understand me, and I can even say that the suicidal ideation I've dealt with my whole life is not an issue- and so much more that I'm grateful for. Itty Bitty Bugz would be amazed.

I've fought tooth and nail to get here. I've fought so much I scratched myself in the process, but gods be damned I am here. I am alive and breathing, surviving but thriving.

Things will never be the same- not that there ever was a moment of my life not colored with trauma- but I will always be resilient. I will always fight for my life, even if it's far from perfect.

Those who hurt me in the past- they tormented me, made every waking moment of my life hell, yet somehow, I find it in my heart to forgive them. Forgiveness not for them, but me, so I may let go of the past and step into the future- a happy future.

Many of them can only see me in their dreams at this point, but I will never forget them and the pain they cause me. Yet, despite everything they did to me, I came out on top.

Child me would be so happy. There is hope.

[rotisseries]

are you ever gonna post about stranger things and byler again

idk? probably, if it grabs my interest again? stranger things is a family tv show in my house and has been a long term sleeper agent interest for me so I know I'll most likely be watching the 5th season and ill care again. I just fell out of it last year, most fixations only last a year for me anyway before I lose enthusiasm (until there's new content) and also 2022 was my first active participation fandom experience, and it shows, and it was overall an at times extremely questionable experience 😭😭😭😭 so I got great friends out of it but now I feel Weird about it. so

[mittenskittensslay]

Gosh, yes, I stare at the moon in awe every night even when I'm feeling down! It's so beautiful and even that doesn't begin to describe how amazing it looks! "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" that Japanese saying that always makes me think of Lumity/Lumelia!

“Woaah look at the moon” Me literally every night no matter what phase the moon is.

[timeloop-angel]

Heeeelp my relatives started gaslighting me again. I thought they stopped doing that 😭

[sunni-stuff]

You who's studying abroad in the UK where you have a one night stand with Ghost at a bar; it's a special night for the soldiers and he gets lucky after making you laugh by telling a shitty joke thanks to the liquid confidence in you. You ask his name, and he tells you there's no need — that you'd forget by the end of the night.

Taking you back home, there was no time wasted. The man practically has you seeing stars. He pumps you full of cum, whispers absolute filth in your ears and leaves bruises on your thighs by the time it's all over. He at least cleans you up, gives you proper aftercare before disappearing while your still fucked out of your mind.

Anyways, a great night. perfect 10/10, you have a story to tell your girls. So, your life continues on track as normal, right?

Wrong!

You dream of him. You have countless dreams of him. They were graphic reenactments of that night. His stubble rubbing against your cheek, his lust-filled eyes burning into yours even in the darkness. And oh, his voice - deep and confident - the very reason why you were drawn to him in the first place.

He creeps into your dreams every single night without fail, so much so that it frustrates you. surely not because you were soaking wet afterwards, no, no, it was only because he was so annoying! Surely it wasn't because you’d end up pumping your fingers in and out your soaked cunt for hours in hopes of recreating that mindblowing orgasm he'd given you only to fail each time.

After your 10th failed attempt to cum, you crack asking the friend who took you out to the bar in the first place if she knew who the soldier was and she claims her boyfriend does. You've met Kyle before, he's a handsome man with dreamy eyes and a gentleman's demeanor.

Kyle tells you he'd pass the word back to his lieutenant, but he's a busy man who doesn't stay in one place. There's no guarantee he'd even respond.

Lucky you, screwing a lieutenant who probably doesn't remember who you are or won't have the time to find out.

The waiting game painfully starts all while the dreams continue. Each torturous night leaves you more and more agitated than before. By the 4th night, you already embraced the restlessness sure to come when the vibration of your phone changes everything.

Directly on the home screen was a text from an unknown number. There was no name, but you had a feeling who it was based on the message.

“Keep the front door unlocked for me.”

A/N I wrote this during hurricane francine when my power went out, I think she gave me superpowers. Idk I'll start flying tmr!!

P2 here

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

Worst Part/Best Part of Ravi’s MSQ journey so far—GO!

OKAY UHHH. ALL OF IT

Jk LMAO

We're making a sandwich out of this, we gonna start with aspects of MSQ that she likes, put all the MSQ shit she hates in the middle, and then we're gonna end with which sections of MSQ she enjoyed the most! :> Buckle up, friends, and let me spin you a bit of O'ravi's tale! 🥪☕

Best part of MSQ, as in "the aspects she likes the most": getting to meet such a huge variety of people, see all these incredible vistas, making a positive impact on people's lives, the friends she's made along the way, just- the incredible depths of love that she gets to experience. In some ways, it's her ultimate dream come true- she set out to become a minstrel, she wanted to see the heart of humanity, to learn of other cultures, she wanted to just...it's hard to put into words, but she wanted to live life to the fullest. To experience fully, to understand fully, it's sort of like- you know how Y'shtola's dream is to uncover the truths and secrets that lie at the heart of the world? O'ravi's dream is very very similar, except instead of being like, based on knowledge of the star, it's centered around people- their histories, their folklores and languages and songs, the love and loss and hope, the rage and sorrow and despair. O'ravi loves the star, but her truest love has always been people, not unlike Venat. And being the WoL is the only path that allows this dream to be reality.

Worst part of MSQ, as in "the aspects of it she doesn't like": she has a whole ass list and it is LONG. Really long, and it includes watching people die, people using her for their own political ends, having to put up with people she fucking hates, being everyone's Ace In The Hole, people making her play the kingmaker, people acting entitled to her time and energy (this is the biggest reason why she currently dislikes and distrusts Wuk Lamat T^T*), having to kill people literally constantly, the pain that all the fighting leaves her in and the toll it takes on her mind and body (she used to ignore it/not give a shit but she can't do that anymore)... Long story short, there is a Reason(TM) why she's a dark knight ldfkjghdkjgh, and she might be a paladin now but that doesn't mean she's hung up the greatsword. Far from it. (She has hung up Shattered Heart (formerly Zephirin's sword) though, much to Aymeric's relief fdklgjhdkgj. Not sure what sword is her main one now.)

*IT'S NOT REALLY WUK'S FAULT, O'RAVI IS JUST REALLY FUCKED UP AND HAS BEEN BURNT TOO MANY TIMES BEFORE 😭 I believe that she means well and is just overenthusiastic but O'ravi 100% does not, tbh she almost resents Wuk Lamat for sins that she hasn't even committed yet, just on account of the way she, like, approached O'ravi like the fact that she was gonna agree to help her was already a done deal and assumed the answer would be "sure let's go" without really even considering the possibility that she could - and had the right to - say no....

Worst part of MSQ, as in "time that sucked the most": base Endwalker and Stormblood (base + patches). Somehow those ended up being a lot worse and a lot harder than post-Vault Heavensward, because at least in Heavensward she had the support of her friends and the Fortemps, it was a conflict she had very personal stakes in and no one was forcing her to be there (unlike SB), and she had hope that she could save Estinien. Endwalker was just....a different can of worms which I'm putting under a cut in a bit.

Stormblood was bad because she absolutely did NOT want anything to do with that war and she didn't believe for a second that winning it was possible (Nidhogg and the Horde had reasons she could understand and she was still semi-naive and optimistic back then, but the Empire felt incomprehensible and unstoppable and she'd become extremely pessimistic by then). She just wanted to go back home to Ishgard and be left alone to grieve her friends. To sum up her biggest issue with Stormblood: Hien found it odd that she was dead silent most of the time, and he once asked for her thoughts about his plan to flood Doma Castle. Her answer amounted to "I don't have any thoughts because there's no point in thinking, it's not my job- I'm just here to be a good obedient weapon and kill whatever you tell me to. Why would I waste my time having an opinion on something when what I feel/think/need doesn't matter to anyone?"

Yeah it was really fucked up lfdkjgfdghldk. (For the record, I do like Stormblood, this is all just O'ravi's feelings about it, and they're extremely negative because it was the lowest point of her life by a landslide. She was overwhelmed by trauma and grief and it kind of broke her, she was afforded no time to process anything that happened before she was thrown into war as the Alliance's #1 Weapon. Her opinions are not my opinions, please don't come at me FKJGLHDKGJH)

Endwalker fucking sucked because uhh.....well. She held herself personally responsible for the Final Days. The rest of this is going under a cut!

It's kinda hard to get into details but between the time loop and the fact that she personally slew Zodiark, not only does she believe the blood of everyone who became blasphemies is on her hands, she also believes she doomed the Ancients - and Azem, personally - and sacrificed them on the altar to save her own people, her own timeline, her own life. She considers herself the root of all Final Days-related suffering and death both for the Ancients and for modern Etheirys, and the whole time she's practically praying that she'll be killed to end the Final Days. She believes that fate demands it- that all she is MUST die to redress the balance. If everyone else were to flee on the moon, she would be obligated to remain on Etheirys until the bitter end, because she caused this. She burned the world. All of it is her fault, she deserves to die, and there is no ending to this story in which she lives. For her to survive would be an affront to the gods, to fate, to the people she's wronged, to everyone that ever lived. She adamantly refuses to listen to anyone who says otherwise or any evidence to the contrary fgljkdhk.

I know in-game the narrative treats the concept of WoL becoming a blasphemy as kind of a joke because in what world would that ever happen lol, but uhhhh, it does almost happen to O'ravi after what I call her day from hell (the Final Days of Thavnair, where Ahewann dies and Matsya's friends are killed and he and his friends' baby almost turn to blasphemies, etc). She has a breakdown after the meeting with Shirabaht and the dignitaries, and it takes the combined efforts of Ardbert, Estinien, and probably Fray to stop her from turning. The guilt and self-loathing and sheer fucking stress from all that happening just turned into wholesale despair. It only happened that once, though.

The only reason Endwalker DOESN'T rank as being a worse time for her than Stormblood is, ironically, her unshakeable belief that she had to die at the end. Because dying at the end was her best shot at redemption and atonement, and the thought of being able to atone, even if only in part, became the hope she could hold onto. She wasn't sure if she could save Etheirys, but being able to give it her absolute all without the distraction of being worried about her survival was sort of a saving grace sdkjfhlkdjgh. Idk it's weird!!! It's a lot!!! It was a bad weird time!!!

Her other saving grace was whatever the fuck she had going on with Aymeric FKGJHDFLJGHD. That's a post for another day but the tl;dr of it is they had a sort of star-crossed lovers thing going, she threw caution to the wind and decided to kiss him and be open about how much she loved him despite the fact that they'd never get to be together the way they both wanted, they were sort of just making the most of the scraps of time they had because time was running out

Best part of MSQ, as in "time she enjoyed the most": ARR patches and the first round of ShB patches. The ARR patches were her highest point for a long time, she had everything she wanted, all the adventure and purpose and thrills she could ever want. It was also before grief shattered her and she was made to pick up the pieces, before most of her idealism and hope was ripped away from her. It wasn't perfect, though, much as she used to think it was.

The first round of ShB patches were for the most part such a joyful time? Norvrandt never for a moment took her for granted the way Eorzea does, and they don't idolize her to the point of dehumanizing her either. There's a sort of kinship that she has with the people of the First, because they've known such horrible loss and kept on living anyway, same as she has. It's more of an even playing field, as it were. She can breathe easier there. She was also sort of drunk on the joy of being reunited with G'raha and the fact they both survived; the very complicated feelings she had about Emet and Amaurot were sort of buried under that fdlkgjhdgjk. She loved helping people, and then getting to go home to the Source and reunite with the people she thought she'd never get to see again (Aymeric, the Fortemps, and her family most of all!), and so that all outweighed the problems of Elidibus's Weird Stupid Bullshit by a lot. Most of the second round of ShB patches were good too, but she was so emotionally fucked up by the Seat of Sacrifice (as well as her own insecurities getting really bad) that she couldn't enjoy those as much.

tysm to anyone who read all this, and tysm for asking this meg!!!! this is probably more than you bargained for FGKJLDHGJH but you asked a very good question!!!!!!

[poisonedfate]

oh i know. i actually went to sleep yesterday trying to formulate this. so i was thinking about it like "what hypothetic place could evoke the same vibes for me as your blog?"

so for me it's like a late afternoon indoors tea party, where laughter, heartfelt conversations and comfortable silence interchange as the sun slowly sets behind see-through curtains with crochet patterns, and the stars start appearing in the sky as it turns purple. the cups and plates are all from different sets but look nice together, there is perhaps an old persian style carpet over the creaky, worn floorboards. and there are candles in 19th century brass candle holders, and a bouquet of dried wildflowers

you're too sweet, this is incredible!!!! honestly can't stop smiling over this???? the way you describe it.....genuinely in awe! thank you so much!!

tell me about my vibes

[pinkfemgurl]

"It seems like someone raided my room while I've been away~" Your roommate says coyly. You try to explain what's going on but no words would leave your mouth, the sheer amount of embarrassment and shock has left you speechless. "Awww you're blushing, and judging by how you're dressed this isn't the first time you've worn my clothes. I know this because the items you're wearing right now are pretty old and were in the back of my closet." You attempt to take off the clothing but were stopped by your roommate. "Ah let's keep you dressed like this! You look soooo much better this way~ In fact, it's not like you have much of a choice anyways!" Your roommate begins waving the camera in the air mockingly. "Unless... you want me to send these photos of you prancing around in your roommates underwear to your family... Do you?" You shake your head and begin pleading not to do such a thing and your roommate just laughs while taking more photos of you.

"Here's what we're going to do... We're going to gather all of your old boy clothes and put them in giant trash bags. You're going to put on one of my sluttiest miniskirts and crop tops and then we're going to load the bags up in my car and drop them off at a donation bin because you won't be needing them anymore.

Afterwards we're going to hit up the big clothing mall and we're going to use your entire wallet to buy yourself a whole new wardrobe! Don't worry, if you can't afford anything you can always pay me back... by making content." Your roommate says with an evil smile.

"Oh! And before we go I have a gift for you! As a sign of being my new girl roommate, for my general security, as well as to make sure you don't get us in trouble while in public... you are going to put this on!" She smiles gleefully handing you something pink and metallic.

It's a small flat pink chastity cage that she handed you and without much thought she takes it back and begins locking it on you, too fast for you to even react. You ask her why she has one and she looks up for a second after turning the key to lock, locking you in your own emasculated prison and says,

"I've always had a thing for controlling my boyfriends, but this time I think I want a pretty slutty roommate girlfriend under my control~" Your whole body shudders in fear at the thought that this whole ordeal wasn't going to end tonight, and that this was just the beginning of an entire new chapter of your life.

Another long story! I hope you enjoy!

[lostfracturess]

THREE LITTLE WORDS — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary — for twenty-four years, satoru gojo has carried three little words on the tip of his tongue, never daring to speak them aloud. growing up as the strongest sorcerer comes with its burdens, and loving someone means putting them at risk. but when you're about to marry someone else, satoru finally realizes that sometimes the biggest risk is never taking one at all.

word count — 7.4 k

genre/tags — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective gojo, idiots in love

warnings — no explicit content (only kissing), mild violence mentions, references to injuries, angst, alcohol use, mentions of arranged marriages, family pressure, reference to assassination attempts

author's note — hey lovelies, with everything that's going on rn, i wanted to write something cute to maybe make someone smile today. there's a little bit of angst in this (sorry, yk me), but mostly it's (bitter)sweet moments. and i tried to keep it somewhat canon-compliant, but maybe not really. and i've written this with gender-neutral pronouns to ensure everyone can see themselves in this story. if you notice any places where i might have slipped up, please let me know.

masterlist + support my writing

Three little words.

Just eight letters that had lived on the tip of Satoru Gojo's tongue for what felt like forever, desperately wanting to spill from his lips every time he saw you. 

Three words that had haunted him through the years, through scraped knees and graduation gowns, through first dates and near-death experiences.

I love you.

Simple words that carried the weight of universes, that could change everything — or destroy it all. And so, he'd held them back, let them sit heavy in his chest, like a weight that pressed against his lungs with every breath.

Because loving a Gojo wasn't easy. It never had been.

Love had always been a foreign concept to him. Growing up in the Gojo clan meant learning about power before learning about affection, mastering close combat before understanding emotions. 

Love was abstract, complex, something other people seemed to grasp naturally while he watched from behind barriers of privilege and power.

But with you? With you, it had been as clear as breathing.

It hadn't been the dramatic, earth-shattering revelation movies always promised. Instead, it was quiet, constant, like realizing the sun had always been there, warming his skin. It was in the way you shared your lunch without being asked, how you never flinched when his powers flared, how you rolled your eyes at his dramatics but smiled anyway.

Love had been the easiest thing in the world when it came to you. Understanding it, feeling it, living it — that part was simple.

It was everything else that was complicated.

Because Satoru knew what happened to people the Gojos loved. He'd seen it, lived it, carried the weight of those consequences since before he could walk. Love, in his world, wasn't just about feelings — it was about target signs and weaknesses, about giving your enemies a roadmap straight to your heart.

And your heart? That was something he couldn't bear to put at risk.

So he had learned to swallow those words, to tuck them away behind smirks and jokes and casual touches that never lasted quite long enough. He had become an expert at loving you silently, at pouring all those unspoken feelings into small acts of protection, of care, of presence.

Some days, the words would claw at his throat like living things, desperate to escape. On those days, he'd find himself watching you — the way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the simple fact of your existence in his complicated world — and the urge to confess would be almost unbearable.

But then he'd remember all the attempts on his life, all the enemies who would love nothing more than to hurt him through you, all the danger that came with the name Gojo, and the words would retreat back into his chest where they lived like a constant ache.

Loving you had been the easiest thing Satoru had ever done. Keeping that love silent had been the hardest.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 6 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The first time Satoru realized he wanted to say those words to you, he had been six years old and you were crying because some older kids stole your favorite crayon. You had both been sitting in the reading corner of your kindergarten classroom, and your tears were making his chest hurt in a way he didn't understand.

"Don't cry," he had said, reaching out to pat your head like his mom did when he was sad. "I'll get it back for you."

You had sniffled, looking up at him with those wide, watery eyes that made his little heart skip. "But they're bigger than you."

He had puffed up his chest. "So? I'm stronger."

Before you could stop him, he had marched right up to the group of second graders during recess. They towered over him, but Satoru hadn't cared. He was a Gojo, after all, and Gojos didn't back down.

Ten minutes later, he had been sitting in the principal's office with a bloody nose and a black eye, but clutched triumphantly in his hand was your favorite crayon. The principal had called his parents, of course. There was talk of his "concerning behavior" and "excessive force," but all Satoru could think about was how your whole face had lit up when he handed you back that crayon.

That night, as his mother tucked him into bed, she had asked him why he did it. And he simply said because you were sad.

His mother had given him a look that he wouldn't understand until years later. "The Gojo men have always been weak to those they love," she had told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He had wanted to tell you then, as you colored together the next day, carefully sharing that rescued crayon. The words had bubbled up in his chest like soda fizz, but he had swallowed them down. Because even at six, he knew that being around him meant trouble, and he didn't want to see you cry again.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 12 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Middle school had brought new challenges and new reasons to keep those words locked away. 

Satoru had started to understand what it meant to be a Gojo — the weight of the name, the expectations, the suffocating responsibilities that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

You were still there, though, somehow always by his side despite the chaos that surrounded him. When other kids whispered about his family, about the strange things that happened around him, you just rolled your eyes and shared your lunch with him like nothing was wrong.

He had nearly said it one autumn afternoon when you were both sprawled on your bedroom floor, supposedly doing homework but really just talking about nothing and everything. The late sunlight had caught your features just right, and you were laughing at something stupid he had said, and the words had almost slipped out.

But then his phone had rung. It had been his father, summoning him to an urgent clan meeting.

Another reminder of the life that awaited him — endless meetings about maintaining the Gojo name, about upholding traditions centuries old, about sacrificing personal happiness for the sake of the clan's future.

As he had sat in that austere meeting room, surrounded by stern-faced elders discussing bloodlines and duties and arranged marriages, all he could think about was your laugh from earlier that afternoon. How free it had sounded, how untainted by the weight of expectations and tradition.

How could he tell you he loved you when being with him meant dragging you into this world of rigid traditions and suffocating responsibilities? When loving him meant you might have to give up everything you held dear?

So he had swallowed the words once again, buried them deep, even as they burned in his chest like embers that refused to die. Because he would rather suffer in silence than watch the weight of the Gojo name dim the spark in your eyes.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 16 ⁺ 　 . ✦

High school was when Satoru had started deliberately pushing people away. He had built walls of arrogance and casual flirtation, keeping everyone at arm's length while making it look effortless. He dated casually, never seriously, and cultivated a reputation as someone who didn't do relationships.

Everyone had bought it except you.

You saw right through him, just like you always had. You called him out on his bullshit, threw erasers at his head when he was being particularly obnoxious, and somehow still showed up at his house with his favourite sweets when he was sick.

"Your ego's getting too big for this classroom," you'd tell him whenever he started showing off. He'd just grin and make it worse, because your exasperated sighs had become his favorite sound.

During lunch breaks, while others gathered around his desk trying to get his attention, you'd just roll your eyes and steal food from his plate. He'd pretend to be annoyed, but he had started packing extra of your favorites, just to watch you light up when you found them.

High school had also been the time when the clan's pressure had threatened to crush him. Every day brought new expectations, new techniques to master, new reminders that he wasn't just Satoru but the future of the Gojo clan.

He never told you, but your presence had kept him sane. You had been the only one allowed to see him practice with his cursed technique, sitting on the sidelines of the training grounds doing homework while he worked himself to exhaustion.

On the days when the pressure of being the strongest got too heavy, you'd wordlessly share your earbuds with him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder while some silly pop song played between you. And you'd hold his hand, and he'd squeeze back so tight it almost hurt.

In those moments, the words had been right there, sitting on his tongue. But he couldn't. Not when your friendship was the one pure thing in his complicated life.

But the words had nearly escaped one night when you were both sneaking back into town after a concert two cities over. You had been wearing his jacket because you forgot yours, and you were singing off-key to some pop song on the radio, and his heart had felt so full it might burst.

But then he had spotted a car that had been following them for the last twenty minutes, and instead of confessing, he had to lose the tail while pretending everything was fine. You never noticed, too caught up in your impromptu karaoke session, and he had been grateful for that at least.

He had driven you home in silence after that, the words buried so deep he could barely breathe around them. You had fallen asleep against the window, blissfully unaware of how close he'd come to changing everything between you.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 18 ⁺ 　 . ✦

College had brought a new kind of torture. Because then he had to watch you date other people, normal people who didn't have assassination attempts over breakfast or cursed energy that could level cities.

He still kept you close, though. He couldn't help it. You were his gravity, his true north, the one constant in his chaotic life. You were still the person who brought him coffee during all-nighters, who listened to his ridiculous theories at 3 AM, who somehow knew exactly when he needed a hug even though he'd never admit it.

The campus had whispered about it — about how the untouchable Satoru Gojo let you into his space so easily, how you were the only one who could barge into his dorm at any hour without fear of consequence. 

They wondered what made you special, what kind of hold you had over him. If they only knew how many times he had bitten back those three words when you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder during late-night study sessions, or how his heart had nearly burst when you'd chosen to spend the evening with him instead of going to that party your crush had invited you to.

The words had almost broken free during your sophomore year, when you had shown up at his door at midnight, crying because someone broke your heart. He had held you while you sobbed, stroked your hair, and plotted seventeen different ways to destroy the person who hurt you (he had only acted on three of them, and nobody could prove anything).

He remembered how you had curled into his side that night, hiccupping through tears about how you "just wanted someone who understood you."

The irony had burned in his throat — he understood you better than anyone, had mapped every constellation of your moods and meanings, had memorized every shade of your smile.

But understanding wasn't enough when being with him meant inheriting all his complications.

You had fallen asleep in his bed that night, wrapped in his favorite hoodie, and he had spent hours just watching you breathe, his heart aching with how much he wanted to keep you there forever.

When morning came, you had smiled at him over coffee and thanked him for being "the best friend anyone could ask for," and each word had felt like a knife between his ribs.

He had wanted to tell you then, had wanted to show you how you should be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally. But he knew he couldn't offer you the normal life you deserved, so he had swallowed the words again and just held you tighter.

Instead, he had channeled all those unspoken feelings into being the kind of friend you needed. He walked you home from late parties, threatened anyone who looked at you wrong and pretended it didn't kill him every time you gushed about a new crush. 

What you had never told him was that each crush faded as quickly as it came, because somehow they all fell short of the impossible standard he had unknowingly set.

He became an expert at loving you from arm's length, at being everything you needed while hiding how much he needed you.

The worst part was how naturally it all came to him — how easy it was to be the one you turned to, to be your safe harbor in every storm. Because loving you had always been as natural as breathing, even when it hurt.

Especially when it hurt.

College became an impossible balance of keeping you close enough to stay in your life but far enough away to keep his heart from completely shattering.

He dated casually, built up his reputation as someone who didn't do commitment, all while knowing that the only person he'd ever wanted to commit to was right there, wearing his hoodies and stealing his fries and completely oblivious to how much power you held over him.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 22 ⁺ 　 . ✦

After graduation, you had both somehow ended up in the same city. Different jobs, different lives, but still orbiting each other like you always had.

You dated other people, and so did he (sort of), but you still met for coffee every Wednesday and dinner every Sunday, still texted each other random thoughts at inappropriate hours.

Those Wednesday coffee meetings had become sacred. He'd show up at your workplace, two cups in hand — one with less sugar but lots of milk, the way you liked it, and his own ridiculously sweet like his smile, as you always teased. 

He had memorized your schedule, knew which days you worked late, which mornings you had important meetings. On the nights when your job kept you at the office past midnight, he'd lurk nearby, pretending he just happened to be in the area when you finally emerged exhausted. 

You'd roll your eyes but accept his offer to walk you home, and he'd fight the urge to take your hand every step of the way.

Sunday dinners were even worse for his heart. Sometimes you'd cook (badly), sometimes he'd order in (expensively), but it always felt so domestic it hurt.

The way you'd steal bites from his plate, like you always used to do, how you'd curl up on his couch afterward like you belonged there, the casual way you'd rest your feet in his lap while watching movies — it was everything he wanted and nothing he could keep.

The words had nearly escaped during one of those Sunday dinners, when you were both a little drunk on wine and nostalgia, laughing about all the trouble you had gotten into growing up. You had looked at him with such fondness, such understanding, and he had almost broken.

"Remember when you punched that guy at the bar who wouldn't leave me alone?" you had asked, cheeks flushed from wine and laughter.

"Which time?" he had replied, only half-joking. There had been several instances, each one burning in his memory because how dare anyone make you uncomfortable.

"All of them," you had laughed, reaching over to poke his cheek. "My hero."

The word had squeezed his heart like a fist. Hero. If only you knew how selfish his protection had always been, how each act of defending you had been as much about his own possessive need to keep you safe as it was about your wellbeing.

You had shifted closer on the couch then, laying your head on his shoulder in that casual way that always made his breath catch and his fingers had itched to run through your hair, to tilt your face up to his, to finally close the distance he'd been maintaining for so many years. 

The words had risen in his throat like a tide. But then his phone had buzzed with an alert about another threat, another mission, another reason why loving him was dangerous, and he had bitten his tongue until he tasted blood.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 25 ⁺ 　 . ✦

It had gotten harder as the years passed. Harder to watch you live your life, harder to keep pretending he didn't want to be more than your best friend, harder to keep those three words locked away.

He had started taking more dangerous missions, throwing himself into his work with reckless abandon. Because if he was busy fighting curses and saving the world, he couldn't think about how much he wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to finally let those words free.

At least, that's what he had told himself as he accepted increasingly risky assignments, each one a little more dangerous than the last.

The other sorcerers had started calling him reckless. But how could he explain that facing down cursed spirits was easier than facing the way you looked at him with such concern? That physical pain was a welcome distraction from the constant ache in his chest?

But you were still there, still calling him out when he was being stupid, still patching him up when he came back injured, still looking at him like he was someone beyond his name and his power.

He always saved one small injury for you to tend to — a scrape here, a bruise there — even though his reversed cursed technique had already healed the worst of his wounds. It had become your ritual, you'd patch him up at your apartment, your coffee table covered in supplies that he didn't really need, both of you pretending this wasn't an elaborate excuse to be close to each other.

"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days," you had muttered one particularly bad night, hands trembling slightly as you cleaned a gash on his forehead that would have healed on its own in seconds. But he had let you fuss over it anyway, selfishly savoring every gentle touch.

The words had almost broken free one night when you were stitching up a particularly nasty wound on his side. Your hands had been gentle but your lecture was harsh, telling him off for being so careless with his life.

He could have healed it himself — you both knew that — but he had wanted your hands on him, even if they came with a scolding.

"You're not immortal, you idiot," you had said, and there were tears in your eyes that made his heart clench. "I know you think you're invincible, but you're not. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

The raw emotion in your voice had nearly undone him. He had wanted to tell you then that he only acted so reckless because loving you from afar was slowly killing him anyway. That every mission, every fight, was just another way to exhaust himself enough that he wouldn't do something stupid like confess his feelings and ruin everything between you.

Instead, he had just made a joke about being too pretty to die, and pretended not to notice when you wiped your eyes. But he had caught your hand as you turned away, held it perhaps a moment too long, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in what he hoped felt like reassurance.

Your apartment had become his retreat those days. He would show up at odd hours, sometimes bleeding, sometimes just exhausted, and you would let him in without question. You never asked why he came to you instead of using his technique to heal himself. Maybe you had known, just like he had, that these moments weren't really about the injuries at all.

There had been nights when he'd fall asleep on your couch, lulled by the sound of you moving around your apartment, by the domestic comfort of knowing you were near. He'd wake up to find himself covered with a blanket, a glass of water on the coffee table, and his heart would ache with how much he wanted this to be his everyday reality.

Sometimes, in his weaker moments, he'd catch himself watching you as you worked on your laptop, curled up in the armchair across from him. The soft glow of the screen would wash over your features, and he'd think about how easy it would be to cross that small distance, to finally tell you everything he'd been holding back.

But then he'd remember the last mission, the close calls, the enemies who were getting stronger and bolder, and he'd force himself to look away. Because loving him had always come with a price, and he wasn't willing to make you pay it.

So he had buried those feelings deeper, thrown himself into more missions, and pretended that the ache in his chest was from the fights and not from loving you so much it physically hurt.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 28 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The breaking point had come, as these things often did, on an ordinary day.

You had both been in your apartment, having one of your regular movie nights. You were wearing old sweatpants and one of his hoodies that you had stolen years ago, there were takeout containers scattered across your coffee table, and you were arguing about whether the movie's plot made any sense.

It had been so normal, so comfortable, so perfectly you and him that something in his chest finally cracked.

Because he had realized, watching you gesture wildly about the movie's plot holes, that he had been an idiot. He had spent over two decades trying to protect you by keeping his distance, but you had been in danger this whole time anyway. Because everyone who knew him knew that you were his weakness, his soft spot, the one person who could bring the great Satoru Gojo to his knees.

And you had stayed anyway. Through every fight, every danger, every close call, you had chosen to stay in his life. You had patched his wounds, celebrated his victories, mourned his losses, and never once asked for anything in return except his friendship.

That night, he had decided tomorrow would be the day. No more waiting, no more excuses. He would finally tell you everything.

He had barely slept, spending hours picking out the perfect flowers, hoping they would help say everything his heart had been trying to tell you for years. He had practiced the words in his mirror, ran through a dozen different speeches, each one feeling more inadequate than the last.

But when he had arrived at your apartment building that morning, flowers clutched in sweaty palms and heart thundering in his chest, he had seen them through your living room window. You weren't alone. Someone else was there, someone who had made you throw your head back in laughter, who had pulled you close with an ease that made his chest constrict.

He had watched, frozen on the sidewalk, as you reached up to brush something from their cheek, the gesture so tender it had felt like a physical blow. The flowers in his hands had suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

Satoru had stood there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, watching you be happy with someone else, watching you shine so brightly for another person. Then, with movements that felt mechanical, he had dropped the flowers in a nearby trash can and walked away.

Three words, still unspoken, had burned in his throat with every step.

For weeks after that, he had thrown himself into missions like a madman, taking on the most dangerous assignments he could find. Anything to avoid thinking about how he had waited too long, how he had lost his chance.

But then you had called him one night, voice slightly slurred from wine, asking him to come over. And like always, he couldn't refuse you.

That's how he had found himself back in your apartment, watching you pace back and forth, ranting about how empty it all felt. How you had tried to move on, tried to find what everyone said you should want — a normal relationship, a simple life, someone safe.

"But it's not right," you had said, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "Nothing feels right. They're nice, they're perfect on paper, but—"

"But what?" he had asked, his heart in his throat.

"But they're not you," you had whispered, the words hanging in the air between you like suspended stars.

A movie had still been playing in the background, forgotten as you both stood there, years of unspoken feelings spilled on the floor. The weight of your confession had made it hard to breathe, and for a moment, just a moment, he had let himself imagine what it would be like to close the distance between you, to finally say the words that had lived in his heart for so long.

But then his phone had buzzed in his pocket — another threat, another reminder — and reality came crashing back.

"You can't," he had said, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" You had taken a step toward him, and he had forced himself to take one back, watching hurt flash across your face. "Satoru, I've waited—"

"Then stop waiting," he had cut you off, hating himself for the way his words made you flinch. "This isn't—we can't—" A pause. "Do you know how many attempts there have been on my life this month alone? How many enemies would love to know that the great Satoru Gojo has someone he—" He had caught himself before the word 'loves' could escape. "Someone he cares about?"

"I'm not afraid—"

"Well, I am!" The words had burst from him with more force than he'd intended, making you both freeze. "I am terrified, okay? Because everyone I've ever—everyone who gets close to me ends up with a target on their back. And you—" His voice had softened despite himself. "You deserve better than that. Better than looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, better than wondering if each goodbye might be the last."

"That's not your choice to make," you had said quietly, and the resignation in your voice had been worse than anger would have been.

"Yes, it is. Because I'm the one who would have to live with it if something happened to you because of me." He had straightened his shoulders, pulled on the mask he wore for everyone else — cold, untouchable, removed. "Go back to them. Find someone normal. Someone safe. Someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"And what about what I want?"

"Sometimes what we want isn't what's best for us." The words had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You had looked at him for a long moment, tears gathering in your eyes, and he had dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching for you. Finally, you had nodded once, sharp and hurt.

"Get out."

He had turned to leave, each step feeling like he was walking through concrete. At the door, he had paused, his hand on the handle.

"I'm sorry," he had whispered, not turning around. Because if he had looked at you then, his resolve would have crumbled entirely.

The soft click of the door closing behind him had sounded like the end of everything.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 30 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Two years of carefully maintained distance had felt like an eternity. The clan's pressure had mounted with each passing month — meetings about bloodlines, about duty, about carrying on the Gojo name. His parents had finally put their foot down, presenting him with a list of "suitable" candidates from other prestigious families.

Satoru had turned it into something of an art form, really — how to be just obnoxious enough, just impossible enough, that each carefully selected partner would run screaming for the hills without him technically refusing anyone.

"This is getting ridiculous," his mother had sighed after the seventh failed meeting. "Are you going to chase away every eligible human on this earth?"

Yes, he had wanted to say. Because none of them were you.

You still texted occasionally — surface-level messages about holidays or birthdays, the kind of distant politeness that felt wrong after decades of intimacy. He had saved every message anyway, re-reading them late at night when missions left him too restless to sleep.

Your contact photo was still the same one from college, you resting your head on his shoulder, laughing at something he’d said. He couldn’t bring himself to change it.

Sometimes he'd catch glimpses of you around the city. You'd cut your hair, changed jobs, moved to a new apartment. He knew all this from the careful distance he maintained, from the reports he definitely didn't ask Ijichi to give him.

You seemed... fine. Happy, even. It was what he'd wanted, he told himself. You, safe and happy, even if it was without him.

The invitation had arrived on a Tuesday.

The envelope had been cream-colored, expensive. His name written in elegant calligraphy that had made his stomach drop before he'd even opened it. Inside, the words had blurred together, except for the ones that mattered.

You were getting married.

To someone safe. Someone normal. Someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

The invitation had sat on his coffee table for days, taunting him. He'd catch himself staring at it during his morning coffee, during late-night mission reports, during every quiet moment when his mind wasn't occupied with staying alive.

Your handwritten note had been worse than the formal invitation.

'I'd really like you to be there. Please come.'

His phone had been in his hand before he'd realized it, your number still muscle memory after all this time. The cursor had blinked at him mockingly as he'd tried to formulate a response.

'Congratulations,' he had finally typed, each letter feeling like a small death. 'I'll be there.'

Because of course he would be. He'd sit there and watch you marry someone else, would paste on a smile and give a toast if asked, would pretend his heart wasn't being ripped from his chest with every word of the ceremony.

It was what he deserved, really. He had pushed you away, had made the choice for both of you, had convinced himself it was for the best. This was the consequence of his protection, the price of keeping you safe.

He had gotten drunk that night, alone in his apartment, surrounded by the ghosts of all the words he'd never said. The three most important ones still burned in his throat, unspoken after all these years.

His phone had buzzed with your reply. 'Thank you. It means a lot.'

Four words that had somehow hurt worse than the invitation itself.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day of your wedding had dawned grey and miserable, as if the weather itself was matching Satoru's mood. He'd been away on a mission until the last possible moment, taking out his frustration on cursed spirits with perhaps more violence than strictly necessary.

He had arrived at the venue late, soaked from the rain, his suit probably ruined. But he'd promised to be there, and he'd never broken a promise to you before. He wasn't about to start now, even if it killed him.

But when he had made his way inside, he'd immediately sensed the chaos inside. Hushed, worried voices had carried through the open doors. "Has anyone seen them?" "The ceremony should have started twenty minutes ago." "Check the dressing room again!"

But Satoru had known exactly where to find you.

The venue's grounds had stretched back to a small lake, and there, beneath an old maple tree whose leaves provided little shelter from the rain, you had stood. Your wedding outfit was getting steadily soaked, but you hadn't seemed to notice or care, staring out at the rippling water.

He had approached slowly, drinking in the sight of you. Even with dirt stained cloths and dripping hair, you had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Everyone's looking for you," he had said softly.

You hadn't turned around. "I know."

"Three hundred people in there wondering where you've gone."

"Three hundred and one, now that you're here." Your voice had been quiet, almost lost in the rain. "Why are you here, Satoru?"

"You invited me."

"That's not what I meant." Finally, you had turned to face him, and the look in your eyes had made his heart stutter. "Why are you really here?"

He had taken a step closer, drawn to you like gravity, like always. "You know why."

"Do I?" Your voice was so small. "Because I thought I knew, once. I thought I knew a lot of things. But then you pushed me away, told me to find someone safe, someone normal." You had gestured toward the building behind you. "Well, I did. So why are you here?"

"I—"

He had caught sight of a small cut on his cheekbone in a puddle's reflection — the one injury he hadn't healed, the one he'd kept out of habit, out of the memory of your gentle hands patching him up all those years.

Your eyes had followed his, landing on the cut. Without seeming to think about it, you had reached up, fingers ghosting over the wound like they had a thousand times before. The familiar gesture had nearly broken him.

"Don't marry them," he had whispered.

"What?"

"Don't marry them," he had whispered again. "Please."

"Why not?" The question had been barely a whisper. "Give me a reason, Satoru. One real reason why I shouldn't walk back in there and marry someone who actually wants me."

"Because—" The words had stuck in his throat, years of habit holding them back.

"I love you," he had whispered, the words falling into the rain-soaked space between you, and suddenly he could breathe again. Twenty-four years of holding back, of swallowing those words, of carrying them like stones in his chest — and now they were free, floating in the air between you like butterflies finally released from their cage.

"I love you," he had said again, stronger this time. "I've loved you since we were kids. I've loved you through every fight, every mission, every time I tried to push you away for your own good. I've loved you so long I don't remember what it feels like not to love you."

"You—" Your voice had broken. "You idiot. You're telling me this now? When there are three hundred people waiting inside? When I've spent months trying to convince myself I could love someone else?"

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry, but—"

"Shut up," you had breathed, and then you had pulled him down by his lapels and kissed him.

He had kissed you back like a drowning man finding air, like coming home after a lifetime of wandering. Your lips had been cold from the rain but soft against his, and when you had melted against him, he'd felt something in his chest finally slot into place.

Years of careful control had shattered like glass, and he had wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground in a surge of desperate joy. You had gasped against his mouth, and he had taken the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pouring decades of longing into it.

He had spun you around, your hands threading through his wet hair as he held you against him like he was afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. Rain had continued to fall around you, but neither of you had noticed or cared.

His hands had splayed across your back, holding you impossibly closer as he kissed you like a man starved, like he was trying to make up for every kiss he should have given you over the years.

When you had broken apart, you were both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together as the rain continued to fall around you. Your fingers had still been twisted in his jacket, and his hand had still been cradling your face like you were something precious, something he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch.

The weight of all those unspoken words, all those careful distances he'd maintained, all those moments he'd held himself back — it had all lifted away like mist in the morning sun. For the first time in twenty-four years, he had felt truly, completely free.

"You're so stupid," you had whispered, but you hadn't moved away. "There are three hundred people in there, expectations, plans, a whole life I'm supposed to—"

"Run away with me."

"What?"

"Run away with me," he had repeated, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "Right now. Let me take you anywhere you want to go. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for lost time, for every moment I was too scared to love you the way you deserved."

"Satoru—"

"I know it's selfish," he had continued, words tumbling out like he couldn't hold them back anymore. "I know I have no right to ask this of you, not after pushing you away. But I can't— I can't watch you marry someone else. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering what if, knowing I let you go without fighting for you."

You had laughed, the sound wavering between tears and joy. "You really are the most impossible man I've ever met."

"Is that a yes?"

"My parents will never forgive me."

"I'll win them over."

"The clan will be furious."

"Let them be."

"Everyone will talk."

"Let them talk." He had cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the rain and tears on your cheeks. "I don't care about any of that. I just care about you. About us. Everything else… we'll figure it out together."

"Together," you had repeated softly, like you were testing the word. "You won't push me away again? Try to protect me by leaving?"

"Never again," he had promised. "I'm done running. Done pretending I don't love you more than anything in this world. Done letting fear keep me from the only thing that's ever really mattered."

You had searched his face for a long moment, and he had let you see everything — all the love, the fear, the desperate hope he'd kept hidden for so long.

Finally, you had smiled, bright and real, the smile he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Take me away from here," you had said, and his heart had soared. "Show me what it's like when Satoru Gojo finally stops holding back."

He hadn't needed to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he had swept you into his arms, your surprised laugh warming something deep in his chest.

"What about everything inside? My things, the guests—"

"I'll send Ijichi to handle it," he had said, already walking away from the venue, from the life you'd almost had without him. "Right now, all that matters is you and me."

"And where exactly are you taking me?"

"Anywhere you want," he had promised, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Everywhere. We have a lifetime of moments to make up for, after all."

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your face against his shoulder. "I love you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear."

He had tightened his hold on you, something fierce and protective and overwhelmingly tender swelling in his chest. "Say it again."

"I love you, Satoru Gojo," you had whispered against his neck. "I always have."

As he had carried you away from the venue, the rain had finally begun to let up, sunlight breaking through the clouds. A new beginning, he had thought.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Looking back, Satoru couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. All those years wasted, all that time spent pushing you away when he could have been holding you close. He'd thought he was protecting you, but in reality, he'd just been protecting himself from the terrifying vulnerability of being truly, completely loved.

Because that's what you did — you loved him entirely, unconditionally, with a fierce devotion that still took his breath away. You loved him through the dangerous missions and the late-night emergencies, through the clan meetings and the political drama. You loved him through the nightmares and the victories, through every high and low that came with being Satoru Gojo.

Life wasn't perfect, of course. There were still threats, still enemies who thought they could use you to get to him. But they had learned, quickly and painfully, that you weren't some helpless weakness to exploit. You were his strength, his anchor, his reason for coming home safely every time.

Those old fears seemed ridiculous now. Because yes, loving him came with dangers — but you had always known that, had always chosen him anyway. And together, you were so much stronger than apart.

The clan had been furious about the wedding scandal, of course. But it was hard to maintain their anger when you handled every social situation with grace, when you proved yourself more than capable of standing beside the strongest sorcerer in the world.

Eventually, even the most traditional elders had to admit that perhaps the Gojo heir had chosen well after all.

Your old routine had shifted, evolved into something even better. Now when you patched up his wounds (the ones he still deliberately saved for you), he could kiss you afterward. When you fell asleep during movie nights, he could pull you close instead of maintaining that careful distance. When you brought him coffee during all-nighters, he could show his gratitude with more than just words.

The best part, though? The absolute best part was being able to say those three words whenever he wanted. And he said them constantly — whispered them against your skin in the morning, called them across rooms just to see you smile, breathed them into quiet moments like prayers.

"I love you" when you handed him his coffee, exactly how he liked it.

"I love you" when you rolled your eyes at his dramatic entrances.

"I love you" when you fell asleep on his shoulder during clan meetings.

"I love you" when you patched up injuries that didn't need patching.

"I love you" for no reason at all, just because he could, just because the words had lived in his heart for so long that letting them free still felt like a miracle.

And every time — every single time — you said it back, like you'd been waiting just as long to be able to say it freely.

Sometimes, on quiet nights when you were both home safe, he'd watch you doing something mundane — reading a book, making tea, existing in his space like you'd always belonged there — and the gratitude would hit him so hard he could barely breathe. Gratitude that you had waited, that you had loved him through his fears and his mistakes, that you had given him the chance to love you properly.

Because that's what he did now — loved you properly, openly, with everything he had. No more holding back, no more careful distance. He loved you the way you deserved to be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally.

And every day, for the rest of his life, he made sure you knew it. Three words, eight letters, repeated like a promise, like a prayer, like the most important truth he'd ever known.

I love you.

And every day, for the rest of your life, you said it back.

masterlist + support my writing

author's note — after editing this, i realised it's more angsty then intended but oh my i'm sorry, i can't help it. but i hope it made you smile anyway. thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this story. your support means the world to me. in these challenging times, please remember that even the darkest nights eventually give way to dawn. sending lots of love your way <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[onlyhyunjin]

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL pt.2— lando norris (angst)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: it took lando too long to realise it wasn't just 'casual'. warnings: a LOT of angst, toxic relationship, sexual implication, not proofread a/n: casual part 2 was not really a part of the plan but the audience had demands 🦧also i think this was too long lmao. AND IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG DELAY OMG

part 1 - casual

miami grand prix: the biggest pr nightmare for every driver—especially lando norris.

the media had been all over him that weekend, going to the lengths of literally calling him 'the hottest catch on the single market'. hollywood stars and instagram models were so desperate to marry him and have his kids that they didn't catch on the fact that he was a 23-year-old racing driver who couldn't give a fuck about them.

because he was stuck on you.

for weeks, he'd waited—hoping you’d reach out, or at the very least, watch his instagram stories. he posted shirtless photos, sun-kissed photos—hell, he even threw out a thirst trap just for you. But you didn’t take the bait. you didn't take the fucking bait.

you hadn't texted him or spoken to him since the moment you walked out of that hotel room weeks ago, so he didn't try to reach out either. "would've been a blow to my ego," he'd told sainz.

but now, he didn't give a shit about his ego. he was tired of waiting.

his eyes darted across the packed club, friends and guests scattered all around. he couldn't wait to get out of there.

he hadn't been drinking. didn't really feel like it. truth be told, he hadn’t been feeling much of anything at all.

pool parties, clubs, yachts, champagne and girls.

he was tired of the glitz and glam of his life, and you were the only escape from it.

but you were gone.

his mind wandered to that morning, when you had kissed him and the two of you had ordered room service. when he had held you for the last time.

he hated how the only thing on his mind was you. how it was the only thing on his mind all through the celebrations, as hookers danced around him and people tried to pour drinks into his mouth.

for fuck's sake, he had won a grand prix for the first time in his life, and yet he was unhappy.

how did he get here?

he looked up, eyes falling on a group of men in the VIP section, the lights illuminating their faces.

everyone could tell something was off with lando. he didn't want to do any of this.

all he wanted was you. you, you, you.

the girl who had left without an explanation.

why had you left, anyway? no calls, no texts. your friends avoided him, and you avoided his friends. it was like the two of you were nothing.

lando norris was many things, but he was not a fool. he could recognise when something was wrong, or when a situation had escalated beyond his control.

he knew that there was a reason why you left, but the reason never clicked in that thick brain of his. what had he done wrong? where had he gone wrong?

"i'm not feeling too well, mate." he muttered, handing the beer bottle back to the guy standing next to him.

okay, maybe not admitting his feelings for you had fucked things up. but, what could you expect? he didn't have the time to give you what you deserved.

not right now, at least.

"what are you waiting for, then?" the other man asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"what?"

"just call her, bro. i know it's about a girl because there's no way any sane man would say no to expensive beers and a million hot hookers."

did lando even know this man? probably not.

"i can't call her. she doesn't want to talk to me. trust me, i've tried."

"have you?"

he didn't know how to deal with rejection. not like this, not with you. you weren't supposed to leave.

"judging by your sulkiness, i doubt you're going to find a girl like her again. and you'll never have her if you're here."

lando didn't have a heart of stone, as much as his social media persona might suggest. he didn't care for any of this. the women, the money, the fame.

he wanted to hold you again. kiss you, tell you he loves you. he wanted to hold your hand. he wanted to be near you, and only you.

so, when his feet hit the floor and he found himself walking towards the exit, he wasn't surprised.

yeah, it was foolish of him to leave a party full of women who were celebrating him (literally) for a girl who had ghosted him, but the need was stronger than his pride.

out of the yacht, he was dialling the only number he'd ever memorised. the phone rang, and then it rang again.

would she be wearing his clothes, or would she have gotten rid of everything related to him?

maybe she'd found another man, finally realising that lando was a bad investment.

as the phone rang, you were hidden in your apartment with blankets wrapped around you and a youtube video playing in the background.

it had been months since you'd heard the word 'casual' leave his mouth. months since you had fled london and monaco to move to miami.

at first, his words had echoed in your mind constantly, and you'd cried yourself to sleep a few times more than you'd like to admit.

but just like every heartbroken poet in history, the hurt faded and the pain slowly morphed into hatred. and anger.

you wanted to slam your head against a wall. scratch that, you wanted to slam his head against a wall.

it was so stupid, and you hated yourself for believing he'd been genuine.

it was just sex. that's all it ever was. it truly was just casual.

the phone was still ringing. your finger hesitated over the answer button. you weren't going to answer it.

it wasn't worth it. you didn't want to hear his voice. didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that his words had hurt you. you didn't want to know if he was sleeping around, if his girlfriends were prettier than you.

so the line went dead.

lando stood by the harbour, watching as yachts and ships sailed past him. the air was humid and his t-shirt clung to his body, the heat almost unbearable. the sound of waves, the distant laughter and music, and the sound of his ragged breaths.

he ran his fingers through his hair, looking around. where was his car?

he had to find his way back to his hotel. he was a mess, and his clothes were sticking to his skin. he needed to fix his appearance, buy a bouquet a flowers.

he checked the time on his watch, and cursed as he saw the numbers. it was almost 3 am. he wouldn't find flowers anywhere at 3 am.

"fuck it." he said, running over to his car. the drive was quiet, save for the low hum of music and his occasional swearing when someone drove a little bit slower than he'd like.

lando norris had the world on his fingertips. he could have any girl he wanted. anyone, really. but he only wanted you. he was a hopeless romantic, and you were his muse.

when he pulled up outside the apartment, his nerves were going haywire. he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

he knocked twice on the door and when it opened, his eyes lit up.

you stared back at him, sleepiness in your eyes and confusion etched on your face.

and god, did you look gorgeous.

he loved you, he realised. he had to cross his hands behind his back to stop them from reaching out and holding you close.

"lando?" you breathed out.

he had grown a slight stubble since you last saw him. his hair were still the same, except a little bit longer. his blue eyes were wide as he looked at you.

"hey," his voice was shaky.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

he wanted to say so many things. ask you why you left, where it went wrong, why you moved to miami. he wanted to declare his love for you, press his lips to yours, hold you by the waist. he wanted to hear you say that you loved him too.

he was so in love with you, and you had no idea.

"lando? why are you here?" you asked again.

he was at a loss of words. what could he say? he couldn't exactly just stand there and say nothing.

"because," his voice cracked, "i miss you."

your throat went dry. he could not just say that.

it had been weeks. weeks of him not contacting you, weeks of you not speaking to him. the phone calls had stopped, the text messages had stopped, the late night chats had stopped. everything was just gone.

and now, he missed you?

tears welled up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. you shook your head, pushing back the tears, "go away."

"what? no, wait. wait. don't do this." he pleaded, his voice fragile and desperate, like a child trying to avoid bedtime.

"lando-"

he interrupted you, voice louder than before. "can we please talk about this?"

"what is there to talk about?" you were raising your voice. you hated him. how could he act like this after all that happened?

"everything. just—please, can i come in?" he sounded so pathetic. he felt so pathetic. his hands were slightly hovering over the door, ready to push it open and walk in.

the request took you by surprise. "i-no."

you missed him. there was no denying that.

you wanted him to tell you it was okay. wanted to go back to that night in his mclaren, the night he told you he liked you. wanted the weekends spent in london with his family. you wanted him, all of him.

his curly hair wrapped around your fingers, blue eyes staring at you, soft lips kissing you. his cold hands grabbing yours, and his voice saying your name. you wanted it to not be casual.

"i just want to talk to you."

he was drunk. there was no other way he would've showed up here, let alone begged to talk to you. the fact that he needed to be drunk to have this conversation made your blood boil.

"do you still have my jacket?"

of course, you still had his stupid jacket. the one that had his smell embedded into the fabric. it was an exclusive print mclaren had given him, and he had swung it around your shoulders after the night you had first made love to each other.

but he didn't care about the jacket, and neither did you. it was just a reminder.

you were silent for a while, taking in the sight of each other. it was his breath mingling with yours.

"i love you." he whispered.

your breath hitched in your throat, the tears finally falling out of your eyes as you sighed.

"i love you," he repeated to himself. "yes, i do. and i've known that since the day i met you."

you choked back sobs as you shook your head, "you're drunk, lando."

"i'm not," he chuckled, "maybe a little, but not enough."

then, he added, "i mean it. i love you." his voice was steady. he truly meant every word. but he didn't know what would happen now.

"what do you want me to say, lando?"

he sighed, "anything."

you laughed bitterly. anything, he said.

anything would've been better than what had happened.

"i don't think i can do this, lando."

"we can take it slow."

"you've never done slow."

he fell silent again because you were right. he'd never done slow. he didn't know how to take things slow. he was a fucking formula 1 driver, after all. slow wasn't something he did. he'd always lived life like it was the last day. and that's how he had lost you.

"i'm sorry," he began, his voice breaking. "i should've been a better person. i'm sorry for everything i did. i should've given you more, i-i should've loved you more, because you deserve so much more. i'm so, so, sorry."

"lando," you whispered, "it's not—"

"don't make excuses for me, please. i love you, i really do. and if i have to spend the rest of my life proving that, i will." and he meant every word. "i just want you back."

your mind was racing, a million thoughts running through it. it was like a movie. his blue eyes, his voice, the desperation in his tone, the way he stood before you.

"okay," you muttered.

"wait, okay? does that mean—"

"you're gonna have to work for this," you said.

"i know, and i will. i promise."

you sighed, rubbing your temple. this wasn't a good idea. "get in."

lando's face lit up, and before you could change your mind, he had walked into the apartment. he hadn't really been here before, considering you moved here after the two of you had stopped talking. but the apartment was lovely, homely. everything you.

you closed the door behind him, watching him look around the living room.

"how'd you know where i live?"

he chuckled, turning to face you. "i'm a famous driver. i have my sources."

"i'm sure." a tense silence followed, neither of you knowing what to say.

"i'm not letting this happen again," he blurted, "i'm not. i don't know how, but i won't."

"i don't believe you." you scoffed.

"fuck, baby, what do i have to do for you to believe me?" he stepped towards you, closing the distance.

"stop calling me that."

"you are my baby." he tried to joke.

"lando, i'm not joking."

"i'm serious too," his voice was sincere, "i love you, and i'll do whatever it takes for you to believe me."

you had been through a lot together. the highs, the lows. you had seen him at his best, and at his worst. the good and the bad.

he moved closer, reaching a hand out to hold yours. you didn't know why, but the moment his hand touched yours, it was like a switch had flipped inside of you.

you let his hand wander over yours like a ghost, his calloused fingertips tracing over your knuckles. he intertwined your fingers together, eyes casted down.

"i've never cared about anyone the way i care about you." he admitted in a soft voice.

and then he pressed his lips to yours. his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

and god, did he taste the same. lando had a way with his lips. it was a talent. he kissed you like he needed your lips to survive. he was desperate for your touch as if he had been starving without it.

you were so lost in the feeling that you hadn't realised how far you had pushed him until the back of his knees hit the couch, and he fell on top of it.

his eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, exposing his chest and toned abs.

the two of you stared at each other, eyes searching the other's.

"i love you." he murmured for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

maybe it was the way his blue eyes bore into yours, or the way his lips quivered, or maybe it was the fact that he had driven across the city to say this.

but for the first time that night, you believed him. and suddenly, the anger was gone. it was all gone.

"i love you, too." you whispered.

it was the only thing the two of you needed. the confirmation, the reassurance. the love.

you leaned down and connected your lips once more, hand reaching up to his curls and tugging lightly. he moaned into the kiss, pulling you on top of him.

your tongue entered his mouth, the taste of him making you lightheaded. his hands roamed over your body, the feeling of his skin against yours.

"baby," he whispered between kisses, "i want you so bad. i've waited so long."

his lips trailed along your jaw and down your neck, sucking marks into the sensitive skin.

"i want you," he murmured against the crook of your neck, "so fucking bad."

but he pulled away, flipping the two of you over so he was on top of you. he took off his shirt, and rested his head on your chest. he cleared his throat, "i should've asked this question earlier, but are you single?"

"yeah." you chuckled, running a hand through his curls.

"so, can i be your boyfriend?"

"lando norris," you hummed, "did you finally get the guts to ask me out?"

"yes," he smiled, lifting his head up to look at you, "yes, i did. will you be my girlfriend?"

"you're a dork."

"that's not an answer."

"yes," you laughed, "yes, i'll be your girlfriend."

lando grinned, and you grinned back.

yeah, it wasn't casual anymore.

(u guys im so sorry if i've tagged someone who doesnt want to be tagged i just had no idea how to let non-followers know part 2 is out bcs tumblr is not letting me reply to comments😭if anyone wants their tag removed, feel free to dm me!! i hope u liked this) @oscarpiassrri @meglouise00 @f1fantasys @technicallypleasanttree @ggaslyp1 @obxstiles @nataliambc @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @ushygushybaby @emilyroxy @yootvi @fishingarden @pillowprincess4him @herexpertcollector